Once again, I'd like to give a big thanks to my loyal fans. Last time, I took the time to thank each one individually, and I didn't get as many reviews: ( Just know you guys are great. I plan on wrapping this story up soon, but there are still a few decent chapters left. I'm not sure about this one though. You be the judge. Read on!

Chapter 8- Can't Hardly Wait

Kyle drove abnormally slowly on the highway back up to school, taking extra precaution to miss Stan. It was Monday morning, and Stan had a 10:00 class. Kyle had purposely scheduled all of his classes for noon and later—he couldn't deal with the hell of morning. Throughout high school, his mom had ruined those precious hours for him by routinely waking him up at the butt crack of dawn with a quick pull to the curtain and some utterly annoying morning tune. Kyle vowed to himself to never wake up that early again, even if his life depended on it.

That's why it was so surprising to him that he stayed all night at Kenny's, when he could have easily drove back Sunday night. It was good for him, though. He needed time away from the drama that was his life.

Stan in particular.

A lot of truths came out for Kyle during his stay at Kenny's. He realized that he was not at all afraid of Stan's love. Actually, he was beginning to welcome it. Having the love of your best friend wasn't going to be a bad thing.

The problem was that Kyle was unsure of how he still felt about the whole situation. He knew he had been an ass, and for that, he was going to come up with some grand gesture of apology to make Stan's heart melt. But then again, he didn't want to lead the poor boy on either.

He was so torn up over his emotions, he missed the exit for his school, bringing him into unknown territory. Although Kyle was a genius, he was God-awful with directions. He soon found himself without a clue as to where he was, and unsure of where he was heading. The highway had ended, and he was driving straight through downtown Denver.

This terrified the redhead. He hated city traffic, and he hated not knowing where he was going. His brain craved logic, and there was no such thing around for miles. Perhaps that was why the whole Stan ordeal was bugging the shit out of him.

Logically, he couldn't be with Stan. It was just too damn difficult. Being gay would be one thing. But he wasn't gay. How could he make a relationship work with his best friend? A male?

Emotionally, he had already admitted several times he loved the guy. Stan had been there since the very beginning, and Kyle treasured their friendship more than anything in the whole world. He never wanted to leave Stan. When they had made plans to go to college, Kyle swore he would go wherever Stan decided to go, or at in least close proximity to him. He couldn't see his life without his best friend. Already, these past few weeks had lost all meaning without Stan around.

Now, was he in love with him? This was the part he was unsure of. Stan could easily be datable. He was incredibly handsome, kind, beautiful, inside and out. He was a little jealous at times, but Kyle would never have to worry about that, because he would never be looking at another guy. He wasn't gay.

Kyle kept telling himself that. Maybe if I say it enough, I'll actually start to believe it, he thought.

"Whoa!" he said to himself. "Where did that come from?"

He pulled his car into a shady looking gas station and slammed on the breaks. Talking to himself had been something that had gotten him through tough times, but this conflict within could not go on.

"I AM NOT GAY!" he cried, aware that innocent bystanders had walked up to see what the commotion was about. "I have to find out where the fuck I'm going. In this damn city, AND in life." He casually laughed to himself. Kyle's epitomes always reached so many levels. He swiftly turned around, barely avoiding a collision with an unknowing pedestrian. Heading back in the opposite direction, he pressed the gas pedal to the floor to get away as fast as possible. He wasn't sure how long it had been since he missed his turn, or if he was even going the right way. But that didn't matter. He was at a dead end, so to speak. There was nowhere to go but back. Back to comfort. Back to familiar.

"But if go back to what I already know, I'll never know what else there is out there," he noted, talking to himself again. "I can't completely go back. Nothing will ever be the same. All I can do is try another direction."

And that's exactly what he did. Completing the second abrupt turnaround that morning, he successfully maneuvered through a strip mall parking lot, and sailed off in the original direction. Kyle was crazy sometimes.

"I know I can get to where I want to go no matter what road I take." He had so often used metaphors and analogies in his life, and this was yet another example. He didn't have to be at class for another two hours. What did it matter that he was lost on some Colorado highway?

He heard the familiar tune of his cell phone, and quickly cut back to reality.

"Hello?" he asked, not bothering to check caller ID to see who it was.

"Hey Kyle." The clear voice of Kenny could be heard the other line. "Did you make it back okay?" Kenny was always looking out for his friends.

"Nah, I'm actually lost," Kyle replied truthfully. "I got all philosophical on myself and now I don't have a fucking clue where I am." He glanced around, as Denver's skyline became a blur in his rearview mirror.

He heard laughter on the other end. "You sure you weren't just trying to avoid Stan again? Cause you know, you're gonna have to face him some time."

"I know," Kyle replied, shortly. "I just need to avoid him until this weekend. Cartman will be gone, we can do…whatever it is we want to do…"

"Oh, shit, Kyle! Thinking of sex already? Damn, that's fast," Kenny joked.

"NO, I'M NOT THINKING OF SEX," Kyle protested forcefully. Truth be told, he had thought of sex, among other thoughts. What it would be like, how weird it would be. It was all part of the crazy chaotic confusion that surrounded his head like a dense fog. Kenny knew this, but said nothing.

"Alright, dude. Calm down," he instead suggested. "You've got yourself all turned around, it seems like. Is there any way I can help?"

"Yeah. You can look online and tell me where St. Rt. 6 leads to."

Kenny was at work, but the owner let him borrow her computer in exchange for some 'favors'. Kyle grumbled as Kenny recited some directions on how to get back on course. Kyle had strayed so far away from his school; he was now heading toward Wyoming. He wasn't even sure how he had gotten there, but with Kenny's help, he spun around, heading south, and 22 minutes later, he was pulling up the creepy alleyway that led to the back of his house.

"Thanks, Kenny," he said. "You've been really great throughout this whole…mess. I appreciate it."

"No prob. Talk to you later, Kyle!"

And Kenny was off the phone. Kyle stepped out of his car and headed inside.

---

Kyle's POV

I've done it. I've managed to avoid Stan for yet another entire week. This is really taking a toll on me though. I see him pass me in the hallway, and I want to cry out to him.

I've had a lot of in depth conversations with Kenny. About me. About Stan. And about this new girl he is so completely infatuated with that turned him down. Now, I love the guy, but that is hilarious! Imagine. Kenny McCormick. Getting turned down.

I am no stranger to heartbreak. Yeah, it sounds lame. But I'm not! And it sucks that I am the one breaking the heart. I'm really unsure of how this weekend is going to play out, but Cartman just left a half hour ago, and now's my chance to find out. It's now or never, right? I really wish it were never.

I'm so confused. Even more confused than when I started, because I know I like Stan now. I do. How can't I? He's been all that has occupied my thoughts for three straight weeks. That means I like him, right? No? What am I doing then? This is so horrible. I am scared that our friendship won't withstand this HUGE blow that has been dealt to it. I'm pretty sure Stan hates me now for ignoring the issue. I'm starting to hate myself. There are so many better ways in which I could have handled this…

I squint my eyes one last time, trying to recall anything from that fateful night. I still have no idea what it is we did. I eliminated sex, because I'm pretty sure I would have been sore the next day since…well…yeah. So no sex, what did we do? I guess knowing that is knowing enough? It was more than kiss, and less than sex. So we could have done pretty much anything.

I sigh. I wish I knew. Somehow, I feel like that knowledge could make this weekend better for some reason.

No time to think about it now. I glance at my watch. 4:48. At 5:00 I am going to go to Stan's room. I'm going to! Just wait and see.

---

At 5:00 on the dot, Kyle forced himself downstairs, determined to confront Stan once and for all. He slowly pushed open his bedroom door, once again fearing what possibilities were to come. He held his breath and knocked on Stan's door.

The door creaked open, and Kyle peered inside. The room was dark and empty. Stan's bed was unmade, and on the bed was a pile of scattered clothes. His closet appeared to have been torn apart, with shoes, pants, and shirts strewn everywhere on the floor. Kyle had never seen his room so messy.

He casually strolled past the clothes pile, and made a place for himself on the bed. Forgetting that he hadn't breathed in awhile, he slowly exhaled. He had slight feelings of disappointment and sadness as he looked around the room once more. Stan wasn't there. And Kyle was alone. Alone in Stan's room. He was unsure of what to do next.

Glancing around the room, his eyes came to focus on a small yellow post-it note on Stan's bedside table. The words were scribbled down in a hurry, but Kyle could make out what it said:

Olive Garden 5:30

check for movie listings

Kyle stared long and hard at the note. He looked around for another clue as to what that meant. Noticing that Stan's screensaver was on his computer, he quickly trotted over to the computer, plopping himself in the cheap fold up chair in front of it. He waved the mouse and the screen came to life. There were several conversations still up from Stan's buddy list, but the one in front shocked Kyle the most.

Jermy4866: so we still on for tonite?
StanthemaN: you know it
StanthemaN: I don't know what to wear
Jermy4866: lol, you sound like my sister
Jermy4866: doesn't matter, you look good in everything
StanthemaN: yeah? well I'll just wear everything then
Jermy4866: sounds grrreat
StanthemaN: you know, my house will be empty tonight
Jermy4866: correction, THAT sounds grrrreat 
StanthemaN: so I'll pick you up at 5
Jermy4866: can't wait
Jermy4866 signed off at 3:36pm

Kyle gasped. "He has a date!" He fidgeted with the pencils on the desk, rereading the conversation over and over. "What the fuck am I supposed to do now?" He buried his face in his hands, more perplexed than ever.

"Did you really expect him to wait on something he never thought would happen?" Kyle asked himself. He sighed, and backed away from the computer. He glanced once more at the yellow note near his bed, but was distracted when he saw the tip of something underneath the bed. Curiously, he tiptoed over to the unknown object, and pulled it out. It was a gay porn magazine. He dropped it as soon as he picked it up, and reality started to sink in. Stan was gay. He was on a date with another guy, and Kyle was in his room, feeling pangs of jealousy. Jealousy? But why?

The sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach caused him to back out of the room slowly. It was too late. He had gathered all of this courage to confront Stan and maybe, just maybe, see what happens…and now he was on a date. It was too much.

That night, Kyle felt like doing absolutely nothing. He fixed himself an individual serving of ramen noodles—cheap food for the college kid—and melted into the couch, playing video games. After losing interest, he browsed through the three hundred channels on their big screen TV before settling on some B-rated horror movie that included zombies and some cheesy firefighter that could save everyone from death. It was the most awful waste of money ever spent to produce a movie, but Kyle wasn't really paying attention anyway. He was too busy focusing on the door for that dreaded moment when Stan would appear, along with his dinner partner.

It was nearing midnight, and there were still no signs of Stan. Frustrated and impatient, Kyle broke out the whiskey in the cupboard and downed a shot. A few minutes later, he took another.

This wasn't typical Kyle behavior. He never had been a big drinker, but at this point in time, he wasn't thinking too rationally. He swallowed another.

"Where the fuck is he?" he angrily asked the air. He knew compulsive drinking wouldn't bring Stan home any sooner. But it might be easier to deal with Stan's new boyfriend that way. One more.

Kyle glanced at the microwave clock. 12:03. He took a seat at the kitchen table, almost guarding the back door. From his seat, he had a clear view of both the back and front doors. There was no escaping…

Fifteen minutes passed excruciatingly slow, and Kyle was starting to feel the effects of his binge. He had grown restless and even more impatient, ready to claw the bastard who had taken away Stan. He conjured up scenarios in his head about how Stan was probably behind the movie theater with the mystery man, getting his. Kyle shuddered at the thought of Stan with a guy. Then he tried to picture himself with Stan.

He couldn't do it. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't see himself in Stan's arms, relishing him with kisses. Yet he was still so curious how it worked before, and what it would be like.

Thinking of Stan made Kyle lonely. He was, and had been, without a best friend for the past few weeks, and it was really starting to hurt. He longed for Stan's laughter. His voice. His presence. He missed the guy so much, he found himself back in his room.

The lights were off, and the computer had created a soothing buzz that filled the air. Kyle sighed as he fell atop of Stan's bed. Cradling his head with his hands, he tried to imagine his life without Stan.

He couldn't do that either. Stan was inevitably going to be in his life—it wasn't a choice. He needed Stan in his life. He loved him.

Kyle soon discovered his vision was increasingly growing blurry, and his head was starting to throb. He fell back onto the cool sheets, catching a whiff of the shampoo that both he and Stan used. Stan had been using it since he was in high school. Kyle had always just thought it was another shampoo. Cleaned his hair. But as he lay in Stan's bed, breathing it in, it was the sweetest aroma that had ever permeated his nostrils. He began thinking of the time that he and Stan went on spring break together, and they went skinny dipping with two very outgoing girls. After the brisk swim, they had rinsed off in the shower together, eager to spend the rest of the night with the mystery women. Stan quickly slopped the shampoo all over his body in an attempt to clean up, filling the steamy air with that incredible scent. Kyle smiled at the thought, grabbing a pillow to hold on to. That was such an amazing vacation for him.

During that very same trip, Stan accidentally walked in on Kyle naked. He wondered if Stan liked him back then, without really realizing it. And Kyle had seen Stan in nothing except his boxers many times before. He had always thought the guy had a nice body—he had been envious of it during high school. But all of this was innocent friendship thoughts and actions. Now it was different, because Stan wanted Kyle's body.

Kyle clutched the pillow tighter. He was still so unsure of how to handle his friend, but he knew now that he could not avoid him any longer. It was going to happen tonight. What was going to happen, he didn't know.

He felt himself grow sleepy, falling in love with the comfort of Stan's soft bed. He drifted in and out of consciousness, soon falling fast asleep.

---

Stan's POV

I know I told Jeremy that my house was empty tonight, but I'm just not ready. Not ready for anything really. I'm so worked up over this whole Kyle thing, I'm afraid my mind has been somewhere else entirely this whole night. Jeremy is looking at me with big dough eyes, and I know he wants to come inside. But I'm just not ready.

After our dinner (which was lovely by the way), we went to watch a movie. He wanted to see some mushy romantic flick, and I wanted to see the die-hard action flick, so we compromised on a comedy. Which was okay, I really didn't get into it, but he thought it was a riot. I don't know, I just can't focus knowing that my best friend in the entire world has disowned me. I've started to think about moving out of our house. I know it would be a burden on the guys trying to find someone else, but I'm starting to feel uncomfortable sitting in my own room, and that is not a pleasant feeling.

Jeremy is leaning in to kiss me again. I can't do it. We've made out for a while, and he's a pretty good kisser. Not as good as Kyle, but dammit, I have to get that off my brain. ITS NOT GOING TO HAPPEN, MARSH! Get over it.

"Ugh, Jeremy, I'm sorry. I can't do this anymore," I regretfully say, knowing this is a harsh end to a seemingly perfect night for him. But its 1:30 in the morning, and all I can think about is climbing into my wonderful, inviting bed. Alone. I'm drawing the line. He cannot come upstairs. I have to take him home. I drove him back to my house, getting his hopes up, and now I have turn right around and take him back.

His expression changes to concern. "Is everything okay, Stan? You've been kind of out of it all night."

Ah, so he DID notice it. Oops. I shrug my shoulders. "There's just a lot going on in my life that I've been thinking about."

He smiles warmly. "Is there anything I can do to help? I hope I haven't been too pushy with us. I know it's a hard time right now…you know…coming out and all." God, Jeremy, you have no idea. I had told him that he was the first guy I've been out on a date with, and he pretty much knows that I just found out that I like guys. But he does not know—nor will I tell him—about Kyle.

I attempt a smile back. I know its weak. "No, really, you've been great. Thank you so much for understanding." I am being honest when I say this. If Kyle weren't on my mind every waking minute of my day, I might be able to see how wonderful Jeremy really is. I bet we could be really good together. But its not going to happen. At least not now.

His smile fades. "You are in love with someone else. I can see that." He turns away from me. "I'm just glad that you gave me a chance."

Am I that fucking obvious? I know my expression mirrors this thought.

"You are an incredible guy, Stan. I hope that whoever it is, he'll make you really happy." He sighs. "I know that sounds trite, but I really do wish you the best."

I am speechless.

"And, you know, if it doesn't work out…you know who to call," he adds with a heartfelt smile. Wow, is this guy for real? I'd be pissed as hell for getting strung along.

"Jeremy, I-" I start.

"Sssh," he tells me, and puts his index finger over my lips. He presses his lips against mine in the most mind-blowing breakup kiss I have ever encountered. My body falls to mush, and my feet go numb. I gently reach up to his sandy blonde locks and ruffle them with my hands. He has the softest hair…

He pulls away, panting heavily. I can see in his eyes that he does not want go home, and for a split second I contemplate inviting him up anyway. Somebody that can kiss like that can certainly take my mind off of Kyle. But I'm not going to use him like that. Its wrong, and I'm through thinking with my dick. Its gotten me nowhere in the past. I don't expect that to change anytime soon. But I will compliment him.

"Jesus Christ! you are a good kisser!" I blurt in one jumbled sentence. My mouth is still in awe. I wish I could like this guy so much more…

He cracks a smile, and looks over at me. He is hot. He is fucking hot, and I can imagine what it would be like to be with him.

STOP IT STAN! I am sounding like Kenny now.

"Don't forget it," he flirts, playfully. I am definitely keeping his number in the back of my mind.

"I'll see you in class, Stan," he says in all seriousness, abruptly switching tones. "Don't worry, I'll walk myself home. It's a nice night out."

No its not. Its cold as hell. But I don't argue. I think if I ended up driving him home, we'd kiss like that again and I'd find myself in his bedroom with the lights off before I know it. I can't take that risk. "O..Okay," I stutter, unsure of what how to end this. "I'll see you there."

Yep, I'm lame.

He smiles at me one last time before opening the door and disappearing into the darkness of the night. I estimate he lives about fifteen minutes away from me, because it took me about five minutes to drive to his house.

I remain in the car for a few minutes longer, soaking up what had just happened, and calming myself down. I'm telling you, that kiss got me mighty aroused. I'm not walking into that house until this thing goes down.

Ah, screw it; it's been long enough. I grab my jacket and keys, and make my way to the door, cautiously turning the knob. What if Kyle is inside? I scold myself for thinking he would ever be in there. He disappears on the weekends, remember? To get away from me. The guy who turned his life into a living hell. I reach over and turn on the backroom light. I'm hungry.

Seeing the kitchen in plain view, I make my way over to the fridge. We have zero food in this joint. I'm going to have to fix myself something. I glance through the cupboards, and decidedly pick out chicken flavored ramen noodles. They'll be good enough. I grab the black pot from the sink, and begin to fill it with water.

There is a shot glass in the sink. There is a shot glass in the sink, and there is a bottle of whiskey on the counter. Come to think of it, Kyle's car was in the alley. Whoa, did he stay here tonight? Why would he be drinking whiskey? Maybe he's fucking that girl from the party. Or some random girl. Any girl to remove any kind of gay off his body. I sigh. I wish he felt differently.

I eat my noodles double time, eager to get up to bed. I know it's a bad habit to eat directly before you go to bed, but give me a fucking break. Its not like I do this all the time, and I've had a stressful day. Week. Month. You get the picture.

Life sure was easier when I didn't kiss my best friend and tell him I'm in love with him. God, I'm such an idiot! How will we ever recover from that? I'm pretty sure our relationship is forever ruined. I'm never going to get my Kyle back.

And I love him so much. Boy, do I love him. I would do anything for that guy. I would put my feelings aside if I got just one more chance to talk to him. Friend to friend. I just crave his companionship.

I make my way up the stairs. Another cold, lonely night with no one to talk to. It would have been wrong to invite Jeremy up here though. Damn, that boy can kiss. But he's not the one for me. And it would be very wrong for me to continue with our relationship knowing full well that the only person who's on my mind is the one person I can't have. Life sucks ass.

As I reach my door, I get this weird sensation in the bottom of my gut. Probably the ramen noodles doing a reverse back flip into my stomach. Food after midnight never sits well. But no, this is different.

I turn the doorknob, and wander into my room. It is very dark and quiet, but I swear there is something lurking in my bed. I search for my lamp, finding the switch and flipping it on.

I gasp in pure amazement, shock, terror, and excitement at who is lying on my bed.

"Kyle?" I say aloud, knowing full well that is who it is. What is he doing in here? In my bed!

Kyle looks so cute when he sleeps. His arms are hugging my pillow for dear life, and his mouth is slightly open. I want to run over to him and give him a great big hug, but I know that wouldn't be appropriate. I'm so indescribably happy he is in here. Happy, for once, that he might be doing a noble act and confronting his fear. Maybe he feels the same way as I do? Has he been harboring these feelings all along? Is he here to tell me he loves me too? Calm down, Stan, it's probably not what you think.

Still, I can dream. I imagine him waking up, running over to me, and encasing my hand within his. I smile at him, and he gazes deep into my eyes. "Oh I love you so much Stan," I hear him say, and he apologizes for all the wrongs he's caused. I apologize for ever having that shit X in our house and we make up. And it's beautiful. But I'm getting way ahead of myself. The chances of him even apologizing are probably slim. He's probably in here cause he needs something.

While I am speculating, he stirs in his sleep. Did I wake him?

I stop breathing. What happens if he wakes up? I'm going to just leave him here. I can easily go downstairs and sleep on the couch, pretending that it doesn't bother me that my best friend is snuggled in my bed after not talking to me for way too long. After an eternity of me staring at him wide-eyed, I see his right eye twitch open.

He looks at me with—I don't know how to say it. Almost happiness. I take a deep breath, unprepared for what comes next.

"Stan?"

---

Alright, that's it for now! More homework and work work. I'll continue this later.

Freaky thing…I randomly chose route 6 out of my head, and turns out there IS a route 6 north of Denver. Weird…