Having completed his last two finals, Stan was learning that overhead ceiling lamps can sometimes make really trippy shadows at noon thirty, when all useful information has been sucked out of your brain, channeled through a pencil, and neatly organized on a sheet of notebook paper, handed in for a final exam.

When he blinked, he saw spots of light, and watched them dance and flicker. And maybe they were some hue of electric green or maybe they were pink. He wasn't sure. He wasn't sure of anything anymore.

And, as it turned out, it was actually rather funny.

Stan decided to stop bestowing eye-worship on his ceiling light, and closed his eyes, watching the light dancing light spots as best he could until they were gone.

He was far away, some place comfortable, between being awake and being asleep, and he was making a valiant attempt to think.

He and Kyle had decided that they were going to Telluride in a couple of days, because there was another music festival going on, and they thought it would be fun to throw things at the hippies, and maybe lie down in the street again. They'd stay for about a week, maybe more, just until the whole thing blew over, so they could go back to their normal lives…or about as normal as their lives got, anyway, and hopefully Cartman would have just gotten frustrated and/or bored with the whole idea and give up. Worse comes to worse, they could stage an elaborate break up, involving tears, bloodshed (most likely Kenny), and a five gallon tank filled with Mexican jumping beans, and then stage an even more elaborate reunion on the first day of school.

Because really, this was much, much more reasonable and simple than informing the Broflovskis that he harbored and acted upon perverse sexual lust for their son, as well as informing this fact to his own parents.

His father had freaked over Big Gay Al being his Mountain Scout Leader. Stan didn't even want to entertain the scenario where Kyle got down on one knee and asked Randy for Stan's hand in marriage, and confessed his undying love for him, as enjoyable and entertaining as the thought was.

Stan also dreaded the imminent day when he would have to kowtow to Sheila Broflovski, and say, "Mrs. Broflovski, your son and I have been Madly in Love TM and fucking like rabbits for quite some time and will continue to do so for quite some time, and let me tell you, he's a screamer. Oh, and we aspire to some day own a llama farm.", although in a much more formal tone, perhaps even in Hebrew, because, after all, she was rather volatile. And yet, somehow Stan felt that she would be accepting of it. It was Mr. Broflovski he had absolutely no idea about.

But, if everything went according to plan, he wouldn't have to worry about that, at least for another a while. They weren't quite sure what they were going to be doing about College, considering Kyle was a freaking genius and would most likely be getting pushed towards some elite university, but somehow they were maintaining that they would find a way to stick around each other.

That's how it had always been, the two of them stuck together, and however it had happened, whether it was indirect luck or by dharma, they were happy, and more than open to the idea of being stuck together for all eternity, be it joined it Super Best Friendship or Holy Matrimony, assuming South Park maintained its Gay Marriage Laws. It didn't need to be official or anything, or really be called anything other than two best friends in complete love. So long as Stan could hold Kyle's hand, physically or symbolically, he was cool. As long as they wanted to just stand around and smell each other they were cool.

That was why they were still maintaining that they were Super Best Friends in the first place; labels were overrated. And technically, they hadn't really officially told each other that they loved each other, but they were in love all the same. In love and at peace, it had just sort of happened, somewhere along the way, be it luck or dharma. They didn't need all of the other stuff, they just needed each other.

Stan was so absorbed in his happy, half-asleep and contemplating his relationship with Kyle mode, that he only vaguely registered the sound of broken glass. He did, however, open his eyes just in time to watch Ike hurtle through the air, and ricochet off of the wall opposite the window that he had destroyed in his grand entrance into Stan's room, although he was fully intact and completely unscathed.

Stan and Ike stared at each other for a minute, registering the other's appearance. It was a major, oh-hey-,you kind of Moment. Then they heard footsteps bounding wildly up the stairs, coming up the hall…

"Hide me!" Ike whispered, puberty causing his voice to crack ever so slightly as he scrambled to find solace beneath Stan's bed.

Unfortunately, his legs were sticking out awkwardly when Kyle threw open the door to Stan's room, looking about as threatening as a skinny Jewish kid can.

"Gahh! Don't kick the adolescent!" Ike just about nearly squealed.

"How many times, Ike? How many times have I told you, never, ever do anything Cartman asks of you! It only ends bad!" Kyle yelled.

"Oh, hey! Kyle! Come on in." Stan muttered under his breath, glancing on in confusion, deciding that he was best off as he was; completely out of the whole thing, despite the fact that the scenario was taking place in his bed room.

"But he paid us each twenty dollars!" Ike's voice could be heard, just slightly muffled.

"That only makes it worse!"

"I didn't know he was going to show the video tape to mom."

"Of course he was going to show the video tape to mom! Ike, how can you be such a genius, and yet be so, so incredibly…" Kyle finished his statement with a defeated sigh, and sank down onto the bed next to Stan.

There were a number of possible reasons why it was instinctive for Stan to grab hold of Kyle's hand, and for Kyle to lace his fingers around Stan's. Maybe it was because Stan knew something was up, and this something was obviously something big and possibly involved the fate of their relationship, an that Kyle just wanted to feel that no matter what was to come their this was secure.

"What's up?" Stan whispered. He wasn't really sure if he wanted to know, didn't want to know, or already knew. Maybe all three.

Kyle laughed, but for the first time, the situation really wasn't funny. To them, anyway.

"My parents. They know, Stan. They already knew, at least my mom did. Cartman got to them, by apparently getting Ike to kiss Filmore on camera, which has somehow convinced my parents, or at least my father who, unlike my mother, has maintained his ability to not just speak but to yell, to finally confront me about our scandalous love affair, described in excruciating, and partly fabricated I'm sure, detail in a four page letter citing specific dates. I just finished chasing Ike down, but just before I left the house, my dad was informing me how they are plotting an intervention, once they can get a hold of your parents." Kyle informed him, his voice eerily calm.

"Bail?" Stan asked quietly. Only one possible solution.

"Bail." Kyle concurred.

"To Telluride?" Stan asked, standing and pulling Kyle with him.

"I think we have to make it a bit more drastic. Let's see if we can get to Canada."

Ike, whose presence they had forgotten, peeked out from under the bed.

"Can I come, too? I doubt I'll ever hear the end of it as it is, and if you two up and disappear, it'll just get worse for me." He pleaded.

"Ike, do you really want to watch us make out on the entire plane ride?" Stan asked.

Ike thought this over for a minute.

"It would be totally hot." He said, with a devilish grin.

Kyle somehow managed to drop kick Ike out of the same window he had crashed through only minutes before, an act which Stan, although witnessing the act had no idea how it was even managed.

Authors Note:

A note on the chapter title:

Yom Kippur is the Jewish holiday, acting as the day of atonement. Basically, you "atone" for your mistakes, anything you wish to be forgiven for, or need to acknowledge to yourself from events in the past year, following the new year celebration Rosh Hashanah. Yom Kippur is the holiest of all the Jewish holiday, and is commenced with a twenty-five long hour fast, and fastidious prayer, making it the worst holiday. Ever. (This is a Joke. I've only celebrated Yom Kippur once, though, lol)

I chose the title because, as the day of atonement, I feel that the events in this chapter have to deal with the "shit hitting the fan" so to speak. Although Kyle and Stan don't actually "atone" (and have no need to, in my opinion), they are faced with some issues that their relationship brings up. Yes, I know I dealt with it very rushed, but I promise I will emphasize it in the next chapter, giving it more weight. The pacing of the events is actually supposed to be very rushed, a very spur of the moment planning.

And that is about as dramatic as I'm gonna get. Sorry to those of you who totally couldn't stomach all the fluff. The next chapter will be much more comedic, I promise.

Oh, and the previous chapters have been edited, grammar mistakes corrected, because I suck at grammar but am trying to get better.

On that note, there will not be another update for at least two weeks. Details are in my journal on DeviantArt. Keep writing, out there! I have so much to look forward to from the South Park fandom when I get back! Love you guys!