SBF Reunion

When I woke up the next morning, the bed was unusually light and cold. It took me a second to realise, but Cartman was gone. I panicked for a quick moment, then I heard muffled singing and cooking noises downstairs and relaxed again. I didn't prepare at all for a sleepover, so I have no clothes to wear to school today or any means of brushing my teeth, washing my face etc. I could probably stop by my house before the bus gets here and quickly change into something decent. I'd better hurry then.

I forced myself up, trudging down the steps sleepily. When I came down, Cartman was singing 'S&M' by Rihanna. I haven't heard him sing in years. It's not all off key and annoying like I remember. He's actually hitting some notes and sings smoothly. Though, S&M wouldn't be my first pick for songs. Especially at breakfast.

"'S&M' isn't an appropriate breakfast song." I said. Cartman turned to see me, and smiled.

"Good morning to you too Kahl. I'm making french toast."

I sat at the table and waited for him to cook his meal, hoping he'd try some. After what happened last night, I don't think I doubt him anymore.

He finished up and placed two plates down, one for me and the other for him. We each got one piece of bread with syrup,butter and blueberries on it. I took a fork and ate mine quickly, but I stealthily watched Cartman struggle a bit with his food. It was obvious he was trying to eat it all, taking bigger bites each time, but I think he forgot we're taking it one step at a time. Regardless, I let him continue. I'm not gonna stop him if he wants to finish it all.

"So, what was last night about?" I asked. I told him we'd talk about it tomorrow, and I'm not backing down on it. Now's the best time anyways. He paused and set his fork down.

"I was just angry I guess. Recently, my first instinct after I think I've lost something again or I messed up is to kill myself. I know it's not an acceptable thought in today's society, but I can't help how I feel."

"Well, you can try talking to people about it."

"Like who?"

Not gonna lie, that kind of hurt me, but I don't let it show.

"Like me."

"And what if you leave too?"

"I won't."

"But what if you do?"

"There's no 'what if'. I will never leave you."

He didn't respond, and went back to nibbling his food. I saw him suppress a gag, and he spat on his plate. Then he stopped eating and placed his plate in the sink.

"You're not gonna finish?" I asked. He shook his head. "I can't.".

I didn't want to feel bad for him, so I handed my plate over to him and went back upstairs to get my stuff. When I came back down, Cartman was hunched over the sink, dry-heaving. I can tell he'd probably been trying not to puke. I rubbed his back and whispered, "It's alright. I need to get to my house, but I'll see you at the bus stop. Okay?"

He nodded and spat up some more. I decided to take my leave and just pray he doesn't empty himself of everything before school starts. I didn't heard any retching, so I figure I was safe to head home. I really wish he'd just tell me what happened so we can get help together.

When I got home, nobody even acknowledged my existence. Mom was hanging up Ike's Aced tests on the fridge, and Ike was gloating about how he's the top of his grade. I'm both glad and angered by the fact that my family doesn't even notice me anymore, but I don't linger on this revelation and go up to my room to get ready. The whole process was a blur as I thought about Cartman again. It's already been established that I like him, but I don't have time to go on about it. There's bigger things going on than my nonexistent love life. Right now, I need to focus on finding new ways for Cartman to cope with his suicidal thoughts and tendencies. I could try getting him back into photography and such. Maybe I could buy him a camera and film with the money I have stored in my closet. That's be nice.

At the bus stop, I stood waiting for Cartman. As I waited, I heard the grass shifting behind me and turned. Stan stood in front of me, smiling sheepishly. At first I felt happy to see him, then I remembered how he acted last friday towards Cartman and I gave him the cold shoulder. He sighed quietly and walked up to me.

"Come on Kyle, don't act like this."

"No. I don't like what you did."

"You're right, I fucked up. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have snapped at Cartman like I did."

"You're apologising to the wrong person.".

Stan groaned and shoved his hands in his pockets, growing antsy.

"Hey dude."

I turned to him, my expression softening when I met his eyes. He cleared his throat. "I have sort of a weird question to ask you."

"Okay, what is it?"

"Are...are you gay?"

How...

How the fuck? Am I really being that obvious?

"How did you-"

"I've suspected it for a while now. I just never had the courage to ask, because I figured you'd tell me when you were ready. It feels like we're getting farther and farther apart."

"I agree. And, to answer your question, yes. I am gay."

Stan was quiet for a few seconds, then he asked, "Have you ever thought about me in that way?"

I thought for a second before speaking "Maybe when we were small, but I don't think I'd ever want to take it past the imagination. It was just a thought."

"What about now?"

Just as I was about to speak, I caught Cartman and Kenny walking towards us. I smiled to myself when I saw that Cartman and Kenny were singing a song together.

"I don't think so. It's just not a good time."

Stan didn't respond, and the bus was coming in the distance, causing Kenny and Cartman to book it to the bus stop. It's pretty funny watching them run like the world was ending. Me and Stan piled on the bus without them, but I made sure to glance back and make sure they made it on. They did, and I sat next to Stan, three rows in. Cartman and Kenny took the back of the bus and chattered about meaningless nonsense. I was interested more in their conversation than I was of my own with Stan. I should try being less obvious of my affixation on Cartman. If I was that obvious towards my sexuality, it's only a matter of time before Stan realizes my little crush.

"So, what do you say?"

"Huh?" I might've took a misstep here.

"Do you want to stop by my house after school to hang out? You know, like old times."

"Oh, sure Stan. I'd like that."

I haven't seen Stan smile like he did in years. Actually, I have, but never directed at me. It was always at either Wendy or his football friends. To actually have him look at me in such a way, after all this time makes my heart soar with glee. I miss Stan, no matter how much of a dick he's been towards me. Speaking of which,

"By the way, why did you and Wendy break up?"

He froze, his smile fading quickly. I shouldn't have brung that up when he was in such a good mood. Curse me and my big mouth.

"Oh um. We just weren't working out. I couldn't give her what she needed in a relationship, ya know? So we decided to disperse. It's fine though. I've been over her for a while now."

He tried to prove to me that he was fine with it by smiling at me, but I still felt guilty for ruining his mood. I could've picked any other time to ask, but it had to be now. Oh well, it could've been worse I guess. I could've asked him when he was still upset.

"So, what time do you plan on stopping by?" He asked, changing the subject.

"I guess between 4 and 5."

"Okay then."

The bus pulled up to the school, and Stan swung his backpack over his shoulder, squirming around the bundles of kids also getting off. I couldn't push my way past as easily as Stan did, and struggled a bit. Then I felt strong hands grab my shoulder and pull me in front of them. Cartman was the man behind it.

"You're such a short little Jew."

"Shut up asshole."

Kenny giggled behind us, and we piled out of the bus. I felt my face once I was out of sight, and felt the candescent heat on my fingertips. I need to watch myself before I out myself. I know that's not the expression, fuck you.

School flew by faster than I would've liked. I'm not complaining though.

Afterwards, I went directly to my house and to my room to immediately get started on homework. I usually would get it done later in the day so I could relax after school, maybe take a nap, but that was before I started doing things. Now, I have places to be, and I gotta get it done so I don't end up sitting at my desk all night. I'd hate to disappoint my family by failing one assignment.

I finished studying and homework at 4:13, and sat back in my desk chair. My shoulders were tense as fuck and I was already drowsy, but I might wake up a little later when I get to Stan's house. So, I slipped into some comfy clothes, a large green tee and an oversized orange cardigan, threw on some old shoes and made my way out the door. My parents were too busy with their own personal hobbies that they probably forgot they had children and therefore I didn't even have to bother asking for permission to leave. Besides, it's not like they're gonna say 'no' anyways. This is the first time I'm hanging out with Stan in years.

When I got to Stan's house, Randy answered the door with a fancy wine glass in his right hand and a hardcover copy of 'Catcher in the Rye' in his left. It was obvious he was actually reading a porn mag, but I didn't feel the need to point it out. He can do whatever he wants in his spare time.

"Oh, hey Kyle. Long time, no see." He said with a slight slur. I'm guessing he's a little buzzed.

"Hey Mr. Marsh."

"Stan's out in the backyard."

I nodded in thanks and pushed past him to get to the back door. I caught a strange look on his face as I passed. Like, sort of an uncomfortable look, with a little bit of disgust. I'm not sure why Randy looked at me like that, but I should just pray it's not because Stan told him I was gay. That would not end well for anyone. Luckily, I know Stan better than that, and he would never tell his dad something that personal. They're not that close in their father-son relationship.

Just as Randy said, Stan was in the backyard. He was sitting on the porch steps, strumming on his guitar. When I opened the door, he turned and patted the next step below him, urging me to sit. I did, and he went back to mindlessly strumming random chords on the guitar. I watched him and felt my worries and stress fade out of me. Something about the relaxing sounds of a guitar make my bones melt. Stan knows this, as he used to play when I was angry or upset many times, but I didn't think he'd remember it.

"Hey Kyle." He said softly, to not ruin the mood. I turned to him, giving him my attention, and he continued "Remember that song we used to play. I played the guitar part and you played the Uke.".

I nodded. I do remember that. I can play guitar, but my thighs and fingers usually hurt afterwards, so I like playing Ukulele better. Stan pulled out an old uke from beside him and handed it to me. It took me a little under a minute to tune, but when I did, Stan started to play the first chord to the song. The song was 'Bobby' by Alex G. We'd play it together sometimes, but I'm not sure if I remember the chords. Nonetheless, I started strumming and eventually, my muscle memory kicked in and I started playing the intro with ease.

"Bobby's just a friend of mine. He's on his back, I'm on his mind." We sang. I tried not the think about the meaning of the lyrics as I sang, and the relevance they have to my current situation, but it's really hard for an over analytical teenager like me.

"He wakes me when he goes to work. His hands are cold. His breath is smoke.".

I never noticed how low Stan's voice dropped. It's really noticable when he sings. My voice stayed the same as far as I'm concerned. It's still the same annoying, squeaky voice I remember it being, though there's a slight chance that my voice did change, I just didn't notice because no one told me. Stan's voice is pretty good though, especially when he sings. Not as good as Cartman's, but a close second.

"I'd leave him for you. If you want me to, I'd leave him for you. If you want me to, I'd leave him for you. If you want me to, I'd leave him for you. If you want me to."

This line isn't true, I don't think. If I were with Cartman, I don't think I'd leave him for Stan. As harsh as that sounds, Stan just isn't my type. He's more of a close brother to me, if anything. Although, he does tick all the boxes that I consider to by 'my type'. Tall, strong, funny. Nothing too big. I guess I'm just more attracted to guys with mystery. Go figure.

"Do you forget when we first met? You grabbed my hand, I tore your dress. I felt things I cannot express, but I lost my way. I made my mess."

While I sing this, all I can think about is when me and Cartman met when we were babies. I have no memory of this, but my mom tells me about it all the time. Stan's mom had started a 'Mommy and me' playgroup that my mom, Kenny's mom, Butters mom and Cartman's mom all joined. At our first meeting, me and Cartman were seated next to each other. Cartman reached his chubby hands over and pulled on my mom's shirt, causing her boob to fall out of for all the world to see. I smacked him, and he pulled my hair in retaliation. Then we were poking and pulling and slapping each other while the parents all helped my mom 'collect her baggage'. After, Our parents separated us and moved away us away from each other. My mom still swears to this day that baby Cartman still gave me some death glares after that. I wish I could remember that day, but I think it's better that I can't, since it makes for a better story that way. I don't even want to know what baby Kyle was thinking.

"I'd leave him for you. If you want me to, I'd leave him for you. If you want me to, I'd leave him for you. If you want me to, I'd leave him for you. If you want me to.
But I know what you're doing. I know what you're doing. I know you. I know you, I do, I do. I tell you what."

Stan's eyes seem to glimmer in the low sunlight. He seems so happy being here with me. I wonder if he misses hanging out with me as much as I did with him. Probably so. Even though Stan and I weren't as close in fifth grade, we were still Super Best Friends all the way. We'd do anything for each other, but after sixth grade, I don't even think we were friends at all. Stan actively avoided me for, seemingly, no reason. I'd try to talk to him, but he'd answer in short, brief sentences and walk off. He'd say that he had something to do, but I'd find him talking to someone on his football team later as if he had all the time in the world. That made me really angry for a long time, which is one reason why I didn't mind being alone. In middle school, I had a very grim view of the world and friendships. I thought that since friendships end anyways, what's the point of having them. I didn't want to go through the pain of losing a best friend again, so I talked to no one. If someone reached out to me, I flat out ignored them. I didn't care. I've grown out of that dumb mentality, and I've come to learn that there are some people that are meant to be in your life, whether or not they were supposed to stay in it, and you can either be thankful for them or you can live your life sad and lonely. Even though I didn't want to make new friends, I did strongly believe that. I stopped resenting Stan a while ago, but I don't know if I can forgive him. He made my middle school experience a lot more depressing than it should've been, but that probably would've happened whether or not he was my friend. Middle school is just a weird time.

"I paint pictures of my heart. The colors blue and purple start to bleed into an endless dark. It's only you, it's only you."

I scooted up a step to be on the same level as Stan. He smile appreciatively.

"I'd burn them for you. If you'd want me to, I'd burn them for you. If you'd want me to, I'd burn them for you.If you'd want me to, I'd burn them for you. If you'd want me to, I'd burn them for you.
But I know what you're doing. I know what you're doing. I know you.
I know you.
I do, I do.
I tell you what."

We softly strummed the last few chords, forming a soft line of harmony. When I strummed the last chord, I felt heat come close to my face, and looked up, only to feel soft lips pressed against mine. I didn't process what was happening immediately, but when I did, my eyes grew to the size of saucers and I leaned back, breaking the kiss. Stan opened his eyes, and looked at me, wanting. I sighed, and whispered.

"Stan, I'm so sorry."

He caught on shortly after and focused his gaze down, smiling softly.

"Yeah, I know."

He sat back,much to my relief, and moved his guitar to the grass. He then crossed his arms and sighed loudly. I felt like I needed to clear the air.

"Look Stan, it's not that you're unattractive or anything, it's just-"

"You like Cartman, right?"

How the-

God dammit!

There's no way I can deny it. My face is probably glowing red and it's not like my sudden pause helped anything. Stan chuckled,

"Yeah, I figured, what with the way your eyes light up when he comes near. Me and Kenny talked about it over the weekend. At first I was mad, then I was jealous."

"Jealous? Why?"

Stan got up and lied down in the grass, with me following after. We gazed at the few stars in the sky for a second, then Stan started.

"I've liked you for a while. Back since the summer of fifth grade is when I found out. When sixth rolled around, I started to avoid you. I didn't like the way my heart raced and my throat closed when you were around, so I did everything to make sure you stayed away. Eventually, you did, and I felt empty inside. It got to the point where Wendy even noticed and broke up with me for it. I finally decided to man up and ask you out the other day, but then you told me that you and Cartman were going to your family's house that weekend, and I got really angry. Not at you, but at Cartman. For stealing the moment I was gonna have with you, and for being able to spend a whole weekend with you. That's when I started that fight back in the cafeteria. After you two had left, Kenny came over and we talked about you and Cartman. Then he brought up how you've been spending an excessive amount of time with him, even going as far as changing your schedule just to be with him all day. We reluctantly came to the conclusion that you probably like Cartman. I...I didn't want you to be with him. I wanted you to be with me. I was hoping if I kissed you, you'd like, magically change your mind and like me instead. It was a stupid idea, I know. I'm sorry."

I'm glad we weren't facing each other. I didn't want to look at his sad face. Feel the guilt of turning him down. I wish I could like him instead of Cartman actually. He's more put together, nice to me, open about how he feels and actually wants to live.

Probably.

I wish I could trade my feelings towards Cartman for feelings towards him, but I can't. I can't ever have a shot at a good, well put together relationship because I'm attracted to guys like Cartman.

"Don't be sorry Stan. It's not your fault I have shitty taste in men."

Silence.

"You don't plan on telling him, right?"

"Don't worry dude, I'm not gonna tell him."

"Good. It wouldn't end well if you did. Besides, I'd prefer if you didn't get yourself romantically involved with Cartman. Remember what happened to Heidi?"

I nod. I do remember what happened to that poor girl. I remember vividly.

I sat up and said, "Yeah. Though, he might be different now. I've seen him at his most vulnerable state before, so he should be more trusting of me, right?"

Stan didn't respond and sat up too. Then he grabbed the uke I left by the steps and mindlessly strummed it. I checked my phone, and found the time to be earlier than I expected, but since I'm getting uncomfortable, and I wanted to check on Cartman, I decided to announce my leaving.

"I'd better get going. Seeya Stan." I said, lifting myself off the grass and towards the side of the house. Stan waved a hand goodbye and watched as I slipped through his bushes to the front of the house. When I was in his front yard, I caught his dad tearing out the pages of 'Catcher in the Rye' in his car, naked and sobbing. I decided not to question it and headed to Cartman's house.

At Cartman's front door, I could hear retching from inside and knew what was happening. I didn't bother knocking and came right in, seeing Cartman hunched over in the middle of his living room, puking. I was at his side in an instant.

"Cartman, I'm here. Do you need anything?"

He breathed heavily and shook his head, but I went to his kitchen and grabbed some paper towels for him. He took them without question, and I went back and made a makeshift bucket for him. It was just a pot covered with a plastic bag. When I handed it to him, he emptied himself more into the bucket and flopped on the floor, dry heaving. Since I promised to help him, I took a seat next to him and comforted him.

"What happened?" I asked, hoping to actually get an answer. Thankfully, Moses was listening and made sure Cartman didn't give me a hard time on this one.

"I tried some microwavable food. Just a simple hot pocket. That was all. Then I had a flashback. It's not like how it is in movies. I could literally feel the event happening again. Hear his voice ringing in my ears. Feel his hand on the back of my head. Then I got up to puke, but I didn't make it to the bathroom."

"His?" I knew who he was talking about. Esteban. I needed to make sure I knew fully before jumping to any conclusions.

"My moms boyfriend."

"What did he do?"

Cartman looked back into his bucket, and I knew by the way his eyes grew that something was coming up again, and quickly grabbed the paper towels. Cartman only threw up a little, mostly spitting. I still handed him a paper towel. He took it and whispered, "I don't want to talk about it."

It's totally understandable that he'd not want to talk about something like that, but I'm getting a little irritated from waiting. I don't show it though, and just rub his shoulder and pull out my phone. It's getting a little late, so I figured I should get going home, but I should make sure Cartman's good tonight first.

"You think you'll be fine tonight?"

"I...I don't know."

"Should I stay?"

"N-no. I'll be fine. You should hang out with Stan tomorrow though. I think he needs it."

What is he talking about?

"Cartman, that's nothing to be concerned about right now."

"Can you just do it?"

"No! You obviously need help right now, so-"

"I don't need help!"

He yelled so suddenly, I didn't expect it. I removed my hand from his shoulder and he took a breath.

"I'm sorry. Sorry. I'll be fine tonight. You should get home."

We stood up, and he walked me to his door. I wanted to ask what that was about, but he was trying really hard to get me to leave. He probably just wants to be alone right now.

"I'll see you tomorrow, right?" I asked, hoping to lighten the mood, and maybe silence the voice in my head saying otherwise. He didn't answer until I was outside his door, on his doorstep. Then he nodded.

"Yeah. Tomorrow.. Bye Kahl."

"Bye Cartman."

He slammed the door in my face, and left a dark feeling in the pit of my stomach. The way he said that left me uneasy. There's no way he's gonna do something again...

Right?

Ooooooohhhhhh

Cliffhanger!

3 more chapters by the way. Also, I sincerely apologise to all the Style shippers I just killed with that interaction. It had to be done!

If you want to hear the song that Kyle and Stan played, just search Bobby Alex G and pick the one by Cavetown and Conan Gray. It's the one I envisioned. It's a beautiful song :P

As always, comments, criticism, review and anything else, leave them below!

~Craigory