Okay, so I have finished doing Coffeey's prize: http/ since the links don't always work, you can go to my deviantart page, and it will be under recent deviations. The link to my deviantart page can be found on my fanfiction user page, or here:
broflovskifan. randomly came up with this picture, then decided randomly to add it into the storyline – so in case you were wondering what came first – the picture or the chapter – it was the picture.
Chapter 9 – Movies and Whispers – SPOV
I spent the next while trying to kill time before I went out with Kyle on our date. I tried watching TV, but nothing good is ever on during the afternoon. I tried to play games on the Internet, but my head wasn't into it. I ended up lying on my bed, staring up at the ceiling, thinking about nothing, and everything, and Kyle.
Why now? Why did I suddenly have to have feeling for my friend – best friend, in fact. That just makes it worse. I thought it over – 'Stan Marsh likes his male best friend' – so wrong. Just so wrong. Yet how could this be anything else? I can tell by the way my stomach clenches whenever I think about him that I like him – it's the exact way I felt back five years ago.
The one question floating in my mind was if this would be another week long thing, or something longer? Maybe my crush from five years ago never went away. Maybe I just hid it and forced myself to forget because I knew it would never work out. Maybe being deprived of Kyle for four months then suddenly being back with him again reawakened old feeling.
There was no more sense in denying it – I knew it to be true. So what's my next step? I gather up the possibilities:
I hide it like I did before, and wait for it to fade away
I hide it like I did before, and watch the emotions bottle up until I explode
I tell Kyle, and he runs away, never to talk to me again
I tell Kyle, and he laughs at me then forgets it ever happened and we go back to how we were before
I get advice from someone, which will probably screw me up because no one in this town is worth getting advice from
Most remote: I tell Kyle, and he confesses is own urges towards me. We then proceed to do who knows what.
I like my last possibility the best. But I can tell you right now – it's not going to happen. It's just not. Best to move on.
The thing is – does this make me gay? I don't think so. Like, I check out girls all the time, and I DO find them attractive. I have never checked out a guy in my entire life – save Kyle – and I have never thought of a guy as being 'hot' or 'sexy' or 'fuckable' and who knows what else.
I guess I would be bi at best then.
Hm. Bi doesn't sound like gay.
'Hello, my name is Stanley Marsh, and I do not prefer the male or female anatomy.'
If Kyle was a girl, we totally would have been together years ago.
I don't want Kyle to be a girl. Haha. Kylie Broflovski. Kelly. Nah. Kyle sounds best.
I checked my watch. 6:30. Goddamnit. Kyle had called me about an hour ago to offer a drive in Blitzkrieg, his pride and joy. I think he loves that thing more than he loves people. Haha.
What to do now? I figured it's about dinner time, but I wasn't really that hungry.
"Stanley! Dinner time!" I heard my mother's voice. Well, at least making small talk at the table would kill some time. So I sat around, picking at my own food, smiling and answering questions where appropriate. At the end, I volunteered to clean up and therefore keep my mind off of tonight. I think my mother nearly had a heart attack.
So now it's 8 o clock. What the fuck. Could time go any slower? I began to go through my closet, to decide what to wear. I could just wear what I had on now, but I guess it was kinda dirty. Day sweat. So I spent a good half hour, drawing out the time as long as possible, choosing something else to wear. Then I took a shower even though I had one that morning. I almost started putting on Axe, before stopping myself. I recalled what one girl had told me in the eleventh grade ('Don't you hate it when guys drown themselves in that Axe shit? It's enough to gag on!). Okay, no Axe. I chucked it in the garbage. Instead, I focused on screwing around with my hair.
By the time I had finished everything, it was nearly time to go. I sat on the edge of my bed, watching the minutes tick by.
At 9:47 exactly, I heard a horn honk from outside. I felt my stomach tighten
Jesus, get a grip, I told myself. This is just a normal get together with your friend. Completely normal. You do not like him. You are merely friends.
Yeah, right.
The second I stepped out my front door, Kyle turned on his headlights to high beams, nearly blinding me in the process.
"Fuck! What the shit was that?" I demanded, getting into the passenger side. Kyle was laughing hysterically.
"Oh man! The look on your face! Holy shit!" He choked out, gasping.
I shook my head. "You're such an asshole."
"Takes one to know one."
I looked at Kyle. He looked really good tonight. He was wearing a deep green sweater with 'Harvard University' written across the front, and deep brown khakis.
Goddamn, you look hot.
Okay, I need to stop thinking like that if I want to get through the night.
I was looking plain in a white long-sleeve shirt underneath my famous blue 'Fuck Da Police' shirt, one of mine and Kyle's all time faves. He had the same shirt in brown. It used to be that whenever either of us wore it, we would have to incorporate 'Fuck Da Police' into our conversation. I wondered if Kyle remembered.
Kyle finally stopped laughing at me and flicked the lights back down to low beam. "Well let's get this bitch on the road!" he announced to me. "Let's cruise a chill 80 miles/hour down this residential street."
"But won't the cops flag you down for that?" I asked jokingly.
Hoh shit. I totally fell for it.
Kyle grinned at me mischeviously. "Fuck da police."
A grin split across my face before I proceeded to laugh my ass off, doubling over.
"You remembered!" I exclaimed.
"Of course I did. Don't you remember the old saying?"
I looked at him, inquiringly.
"Elephants and Kyle Broflovski never forget."
"Well what about Cartman? He's like the size of an elephant."
"Cartman's bigger than an elephant. Therefore, the rule is void." We both started laughing at this, before Kyle stopped us.
"Okay, okay, seriously. Stop making me laugh. We have to go," he told me.
We spent the five minute drive to the movie theatre (yes, our town is that small) reminiscing over stupid high school memories.
We were not five steps into the movie theatre when I heard a shrill voice screech out
"KYLE!" Bebe Stevens came running over, and grabbed Kyle by the waist, once again nearly knocking him over.
Oh, for the love of God!
Judging by the expression on Kyle's face, Bebe, was no different than a leech. I snickered, and Kyle glared at me.
"Bebe, what do you want?" Kyle asked rather rudely while prying the girl off of him.
Bebe pouted. "Well Mr. Meanie-" Is this girl for real? "I just saw you here and I was like – ohmygod! – because you said you were busy tonight!"
Kyle gave her a dirty look. "I am busy – me and Stan are going to see a movie."
"Ohmygod! Really? Me too!" No shit. "Which one?"
"MI:3."
Bebe wrinkled her nose. "Ewww why would you want to see that? It's all big and noisy, and all it is is a bunch of things getting blown up! Who wants to see a sucky movie like that?"
"We do," I responded flatly. Bebe glanced over at me, before turning her attention back to Kyle.
"We're-" Bebe said, indicating to a girl waiting impatiently for her by the snack bar "-going to see Over the Hedge."
Kyle raised his eyebrows. "Isn't that, like, a cartoon? For preschoolers?"
Bebe shook her head enthusiastically. "Nuh uh! It's for us too!"
Wow, what a persuasive argument.
"Anyways, wanna come see it with us? I bet it will be way better than Mission Impossible 3." She said the name of the movie like it was a disease.
"We're good, thanks," I said rather coldly. Bebe ignored me.
"What about you Kyle? Wanna ditch the loser? No offense Stan," she said, looking at me.
"None taken," I forced a smile on my face.
Kyle frowned at Bebe. "I'm quite good thanks," he said monotonously. "You go and have a good time now."
She giggled a little. "If you came I bet we could have more than a good time."
Holy shit. She just doesn't give up. Time for me to take action.
"Wellllll, will you look at the time?" I said rather loudly. "Kyle, if we don't get tickets soon, we may not get in to see our movie! We better get in line! Bye Bebe!" I took Kyle by the arm and dragged him over to the ticket booth. Once we were a safe distance away, I muttered to him
"Geez, if you want her to leave you alone, you can't be nice to her!"
Kyle looked at me blankly. "The look of disgust on my face was nice?"
"Bebe's an idiot. The only way she'll leave you alone is if you tell her to fuck off or something."
"I would, but I kinda feel bad for her. I mean, she's so stupid! The only way she's gonna get far in life is if she marries a rich guy."
"So that's going to be you?"
"Ew no! And who says I'm going to be rich?"
"Come on Kyle! You have like Bill Gates' IQ! You're going to be rolling in it one day."
Kyle rolled his eyes, but I saw his face redden slightly. He looked – flattered, almost.
By the time we bought our tickets and got through the concession stands, we only had a few minutes until the movie started. We went to the theatre to find it nearly packed. The only available seats I could see were near the back.
"Dude, the only seats are near the back," Kyle said, stating the obvious.
"Aw, but that's where all the couples go to make out!" I complained.
Kyle turned towards me, and wiggled his eyebrows.
"Ah dude! Sick!" I exclaimed, shutting my eyes tight and turning away, pretending to be disgusted. I didn't want him to see the look in my eyes that would give me away.
"Well, that's where the only seats are, so suck it up, you homophobe."
"Hey! I am NOT a homophobe!" Where did that come from?
"Whatever, homophobe. Let's go." So we went to the back of the theatre and took our seats just as the lights started to dim. I made myself comfortable, and prepared myself for staring at the screen before me, and not at the guy beside me.
This is going to be a long movie.
---
It's halfway into the movie, and I am DYING here. The theatre is like a raging inferno it's so hot. I can see the girl sitting next to me wiping her forehead every few minutes. Next to her, there's some guy and girl making out. They don't notice that it's like an oven in here. My palms are sweating.
I wish it was just the temperature in this room that's making me hot. Kyle has been leaning over every few minutes, mocking the movie, Tom Cruise's bad acting, and the physical impossibilities of the stunts. And every time he does that, he leans in to me so close his mouth is inches away from my ear, and I can feel his breath tickle it. And every time he does it, I feel a tingle in my spine that threads its way through my whole body.
No, it's not just the temperature in the room that's making me hot. It definitely has something to do with my best friend sitting next to me.
I have yet to say something intelligent this whole time. Kyle is constantly making witting remarks, and all I've done is smile weakly and nod. I can tell he's frustrated by my lack of participation in the MI:3 bashing. My only hope is to stare at the screen and search for flaws.
Several minutes and three ear-whispers later, I spot my opportunity. Alas! I quickly turn my head around to state my remark.
Unfortunately, Kyle also has thought of something to say and turns his head to face me. The result is that Kyle's lips catch me right between my nose and upper lip.
Even more unfortunately, my first reaction is to jerk upwards, moving the position of Kyle's lips from between my nose and upper lip to right on my mouth.
Even more unfortunately, we both start to say what we were going to say, causing both of our mouths to open, catching us in this awkward somewhat-kiss.
All this happens in about half a second. We stare at each other for a brief moment before backing away simultaneously.
"Dude… I was just-" I start to say.
"Sorry…It's just that-" Kyle says at the same time.
This causes both of us to laugh quietly. Some guy in front of us turns around and rudely shushes us. I flip him off. I turn back to Kyle, and feel the tension between us.
"Dude, I was just going to tell you something," I explain apologetically. I am glad the theatre is dark, as Kyle cannot see how red my face is.
"Yeah, me too," Kyle whispers back, smiling weakly.
"You go first," I whisper to him.
We exchange our remarks, then go back to watching the movie. The tension is relieved, but Kyle doesn't try to talk to me for the rest of the movie, and I don't try to talk to him.
---
"Dude, that movie SUCKED!" Kyle exclaimed as we exited the theatre. He seemed to have forgotten the earlier incident. I, sadly, had not. Nor would I probably ever.
I had to agree with him though. Aside from all the kick-ass car explosions and the like, the movie was totally lame. I told him as much, and Kyle laughed.
"Yeah, the car explosions were pretty sweet, although half of them were scientifically improbable."
"Mr. Harvard goes at it again," I tease him. Kyle frowns at me.
"Goddamnit don't call me that!" He says as we exit the theatre. It's raining.
"Aw shit, I hate the rain. I always slip and fall." This much was true. In the tenth grade, Kyle outsmarted a genie out of an evil wish made by Cartman which included the certain death of Ike. In the genie's last moments of life, it did the most devastating thing it could do with its' fading powers – curse Kyle to forever slip and fall whenever it rained out. Which doesn't sound that bad, but one time during our senior year, he slipped and fell funny, causing him to break his ankle.
I find a solution to Kyle's problem. Acting quickly, I scoop Kyle up, supporting his back with one hand, and his legs with my other. As I walk out into the rain, Kyle looks at me, inquiringly.
"What are you doing?"
"Saving you from the dreaded curse of the rain. You're not walking, therefore you can't slip and fall."
"Wow. That was clever. And obvious. I should have thought of that," he told me.
"Ah, but when there is a damsel in distress, who is there to save him but his night in shining armor?"
Kyle plays his part. He raises his hand to his forehead, as if swooning. "Oh, Mister Marsh! I do believe you may have smitten me with your manly wiles and rugged good looks."
Heh. I have rugged good looks.
"Ah, but what about my impeccable charm?"
"And your infallible modesty?"
"And my- HEY!" I say, realizing his mockery of me. We reach his car, and I immediately let go of him, causing him to fall on his ass. Kyle glares up at me.
"Ugh, my ass is all wet! So much for the damsel in distress!"
I smirk at him. "The damsel is not supposed to mock his knight."
We get into the car, and Kyle blasts the heat. Damn, South Park winters are cold.
It's slippery on the way back, and Kyle is paying extra attention to the roads, aware of any threats to his Blitzkrieg. This means I can freely look at him without him noticing. He looks really good tonight.
I should stop staring. He will eventually notice.
I am brought out of my dream state when I feel Kyle hit the breaks hard. A car has swerved out in front of him from the lane over, nearly colliding with the front of his car. Kyle blares the horn and lets out one of the longest stream of obscenities I have ever heard.
"GODDAMNIT, MOTHERFUCKER WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING? NO GOOD RAT BASTARD SON OF A BITCH! GO FUCK YOUR MOTHER YOU ASS RAMMING PIECE OF DOG SHIT! GODDAMN YOU ALMOST HIT THE FRONT OF MY FUCKING CAR YOU ASSHOLE! MOTHERFUCKING PIECE OF SHIT I HOPE YOU DIE AND BURN IN HELL FUCKING SHIT HEAD! I-"
I interrupt Kyle's rant in an attempt to calm him down.
"Woah dude, chill. Yeah, the guy's an asshole. But your car is fine. So relax."
Kyle frowned, turning his eyes back to the road, glaring murder. "Goddamn asshole almost hit my car."
I left his to his mutterings, and by the time we got back, he was back to his normal self. When we got back to my house, Kyle for some reason he found it necessary to walk me to my door. Like a real date.
Stop it Stan, it was not a real date.
Unfortunately, I was not carrying Kyle. After taking a few steps, he slipped on the sidewalk, falling backwards. He grabbed onto my shirt, causing me to fall backwards with him onto the wet snow. I land sideways on him, my hip jabbing into his stomach. This winds Kyle, and he gasps for air as I scramble off of him. He pulled himself into a sitting position, grabbing both my shoulders and leaning onto me.
I try to ignore the fact that our chests are pushed up really close against each others as I ask him 'Dude, are you all right?"
Kyle nods, but maintains a firm grip on my shoulders. After a few moments, he releases me and lets go. I hear maniacal laughing it the distance. I frown. Damn genie.
I pull Kyle up to his feet. "Dude, I'm sorry about that."
Kyle shakes his head, dripping with wet snow. "It's not your fault Stan. It's that GODDAMN GENIE!" He shouts the last part, flipping off the sky with both his hands. The laughter recedes into the distance.
I suddenly become aware that we are both dripping wet and cold.
"Dude come into my house, I can give you a clean pair of clothes," I tell him. Kyle nods and follows me in. We have to be quiet, as it is now nearly one o clock, and both my parents are asleep.
We go up to my room, and Kyle takes off his shirt as I go through my closet looking for a top for him. I make sure that my back is towards him so I don't have to look at his chest. That's the last thing I need right now.
I find a plain red top and give it to him as he takes off his pants, revealing a pair of blue boxers.
If he takes off his boxers he'd be naked.
Goddamnit! Stop thinking about that.
Damn Kyle has such a nice chest.
I ignore my thoughts and toss him the red shirt. He looks at it.
"Dude, I can't wear red. It clashes with my hair."
"Does it matter? You're just going home anyways." It was true though. Kyle wearing red has never been a good idea. He looks like a tomato. He tosses the shirt back to me, and I pull out a blue one. He mutters a thanks before putting it on. I breathe a small sigh of relief. Any longer, and I think a little too much blood may have moved downstream, if you know what I mean. I quickly throw him a pair of pants.
I proceed to take off my top and pants, and go through my stuff looking for a shirt and pants. No luck in my closet. I move over to my drawers, and find something in there. Kyle is watching me with a slightly glazed over expression.
I wave my hand in front of his face. Is he staring at my chest?
Chill Stan. That's probably just your perverted mind filling in the blanks.
Kyle snaps out of it, and I pull my new top and pants on.
"Heh, dude, sorry. I'm just – kinda tired, that's all," he says.
Is Kyle blushing?
No. Kyle doesn't blush. Ever. It's just your stupid mind.
"Yeah, right," I say.
Kyle coughs. "Well, I better get going, thanks for the shirt."
"Yeah. See ya around," I say.
I walk downstairs with Kyle, and I lock the door behind him when he leaves. I head back upstairs to my room, where I lie on my bed, thinking about the events of the night. I remember our accidental 'kiss', carrying Kyle to his car, Kyle swearing at the driver who almost hit his car, Kyle gasping for air, and Kyle topless.
I have come up with a conclusion, which goes something along these lines:
Well, that was interesting.
However, there is one thought plaguing my mind, no matter how ridiculous it seemed. It has to do with how Kyle didn't immediately pull away when our lips touched in the theatre, how Kyle grabbed both of my shoulders when I winded him and how Kyle looked at me with my top off.
Is there a chance that I could get Kyle to like me too?
I doubted it. But if there was, I best be discreet about my attempts. I'd never forgive myself if I ruined our lifelong friendship. There is only one piece of advice I can take at a time like this.
Tread lightly, Stan Marsh. Watch your footing, and tread lightly.
---
Ooh lala! Deny no more!
Update was fast this time! Hurrah to you all!
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