You could most definitely call this an intro/prologue to "Fixed." I like the way this came out...so, now about it...know how in "Fixed,"Stan narratedthat Kyle kissed Stan out of nowhere one day, but that helped Stan realize he was in love with Kyle and they started dating and all?
Well, basically, this is Kyle's point of view on that day, and building on the brief reference from Fixed.
StanxKyle South Parkoneshot. Started and finished May 19, 2006. One and a half hours...at least? I don't know.
Inspired by "Thoughts Before Me" by Amber Pacific if the story doesn't give it away completely.
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"So…wait. What's number five?" the dark-haired boy looked up, confused. I was lying on my stomach, but switched to a cross-legged position to see what he was doing wrong.
"Well…you almost had it," I replied. "Carry the one, remember?"
He laughed; music to my ears. "Damn!" he flipped his hair back. "How the hell did I forget that?"
I smiled. "No big deal, I do crap like that all the time! Just be happy I was here to fix it…" gosh, I sounded so cheesy today. What the hell was wrong with—no. I knew what was wrong. Yeah, I was in love with my best friend…and we're both guys.
FUCK.
We've been friends for what seems like forever, and gone through the good, bad, and downright weird together—rescuing Terrance and Phillip, me moving away when my dad got a Hybrid (we moved back, thank God), and our elementary school teacher having a sex change operation—and those are only a few examples of things we've been through.
I used to think we had a normal, friendly relationship…until Stan got a girlfriend. Wendy was cool and all, but I was just so jealous of her. Not even in a "his-girlfriend-is-stealing-time-away-from-him-doing-stuff-with-his-friends" way—it was in a "why-are-you-going-out-with-him-he-should-be-mine" way. It creeped me out at first, but after a while I started ignoring or suppressing the feelings. Later, when Wendy broke up with him and started dating Token, things were a lot easier, though I still longed for something to happen between us.
Now, I was fourteen and he would be too, in a month, and I was having so much trouble keeping myself from saying or doing anything about my true feelings for him. Maybe it was the way the wind from the open window was moving his hair askew…or the cute way he kept jumping up to rush after the papers that kept getting blown off of shelves and desks….
Or maybe I should just stop thinking about that stuff. It would usually turn out for the best that way…I hoped…
Good, now that I was snapped out of that, I could notice Stan staring at me with a smirk on his face. "What?" I asked, trying to sound annoyed.
"You spaced ou-out," he taunted.
If only he knew what I was spacing out about, I thought, smiling to myself. "Oh…shut up," I said, giving him a friendly punch on the arm and sliding back to my stomach, where things were comfortable and, sometimes, safe.
"Whatever," he said, his smirk changing to one of concern. "Hey…well…you've been doing that a lot lately. Spacing out, I mean. Why?" He was sitting cross-legged, like I had been just a moment before. His foot was shaking.
"Hey, I'm okay," I said, grabbing the toe of his shoe to stop it from shaking. He blushed and pulled away. What was he so embarrassed about? "Nothing's wrong. It's just that…uh…" I shifted my weight from arm to arm uncomfortably, not sure what to say. "There's been a lot on my mind lately…" No. I couldn't tell him. Not yet. Not ever.
His face fell, and I felt bad. I felt bad that I couldn't tell him everything that was wrong right now, like I wanted to. Because there was a lot wrong. I was a pansy, a co-dependent pansy, and it was so hard to have to keep these things from him.
"Well…you know…I'm here for you. So…just…tell me what's wrong…when you want to…okay?"
"…I will." DAMMIT. He was making this so hard…too hard.
There was an awkward pause for a second; the only sound being the radio on our favorite station. He returned to solving the problems on his math homework, then stopped again. "I love this song!" he jumped up to turn up the volume.
It was an Amber Pacific song, "Thoughts Before Me." It was my favorite song; I always associated with my feelings for Stan. He sat on his bed and put his hands on his knees, singing along. "It's just not enough; when we're so much more than friends…we're much too young to throw away our cares…"
Now it really was too much. I stood up, shifted the weight on my feet for a moment, then sat down next to him on the bed.
"Kyle? What's wrong…you look kind of…"
Looked like I would have to wait a bit before I found out what he wanted to say next…I put my arm around his back, moved in front of him a little, and kissed him. He stiffened at first, but, strangely enough, leaned into me after a second. I wrapped my other arm around his neck and leaned forward a little, so happy to be kissing him after all these years…
Wait, I was seriously kissing him?
…Crap.
I pulled away and blushed. "Um…sorry…" I could see him trying to keep his lunch down…had I really grossed him out that much? I gathered my things together quickly and started running out of his house. Mrs. Marsh looked at me, confused, then went back to making their dinner. "Bye Kyle…"
After I was out of his house, I wasn't sure where to go. I felt dirty, like I couldn't face my parents after what had just happened. And I sure as hell couldn't face Stan.
In the end, I found myself at the playground of South Park Elementary—that sanctuary of years ago. It was different now, and sort of falling apart. It made me sad for some reason, especially on this cold, desolate September day.
I don't know how long it was before Stan showed up. I stood up, ready to run away, but he jogged over to me and grabbed my shoulder. He hugged me.
"You really could have told me…I love you too…so much…."
What?
Did he really just say I love you?
A weird noise came from my throat. I was…crying? When did that happen?
"But…why were you about to puke…?"
He chuckled softly. "It makes me throw up when I think about kissing someone I really love, remember?"
Oh yeah.
"I…I love you…"
Me this time.
"Don't cry," he kissed my cheek, my forehead, my lips. "It's okay, really."
He was right, it really was okay. And it would stay okay. I knew it would. We would make it stay okay. I wiped my tears, and he giggled.
"You know…I really wish you wouldn't have stopped kissing me before…I just won't think about it this time…"
He wrapped his hands around my face and kissed me.
Okay, seriously, when was it that I got pressed up against the jungle gym, tangled with Stan Marsh, my best friend since, well, forever, making out with him?
…I should stop asking questions.