Class was as uninteresting and mundane as ever; the one thing that kept Stan from faking nausea and winning a ride home was the promise of hanging out with Kyle at his house after school. Stan was letting his chin slump in his palm lazily as he doodled ninjas battling on his loose-leaf when he heard his classroom door swing open. Kenny stood there; his hood down as he announced with fear,

"Stan! Come quick! He's asking for you!"

Stan's Global History class was staring at him strangely, but before his teacher could interrupt Stan and Kenny with any complaints of disrespect and imprudence Stan asked nervously,

"W-what? Who's asking for me? What's going on?"

Kenny's face flushed as he simply shouted, "Kyle!"

Stan instantaneously shot up out of his seat and ran out of the room, following Kenny's orange tail. He was lead to the nurse's office where Kyle was lying on his back on one of the futon-looking beds. Two nurses were crowded around him, but one quickly raced off to the back room, muttering some complicated medication with far too many syllables for Stan to care about. Stan immediately knelt by Kyle and inquired, "W-what happened?!"

Kyle smiled weakly, facing him with a pale face as he replied softly, "N-nothing, Stan. Don't worry about me. But I don't think I should have those pop-tarts again…they're pretty filled with sugar."

Stan's stomach sank as his short daydream of Kyle dying over pop-tarts that had appeared humorously in his mind on the bus became reality. He gripped Kyle's shoulder, his heart beginning to pound with worry as he stammered, "R-really? This…this is all my fault?"

Kyle rose his clammy hand over Stan's and told him reassuringly, "No, Stan…none of this could ever be your fault. Don't blame yourself. Stan, I'm going to be perfectly alright. I'm just a little sick."

Stan was still worried beyond Kyle's comprehension. Stan quizzed, "…how sick?"

Kyle chuckled sickly before slurring slightly, "You're still coming over after school, loser."

Stan smiled; he knew then that Kyle would be okay. He was always worried at times like these, when Kyle was clearly in need of help, but was always trying to do the 'selfless thing', the 'strong thing' so that he wouldn't be a 'burden' to anyone. It made Stan anxious and immensely protective over Kyle. Maybe Stan was worried because he felt like he was indirectly the cause of pain for Kyle; maybe Stan was worried of losing Kyle—the only one in the world who never asked anything of Stan. Or maybe Stan was worried for Kyle because he secretly knew that the road of 'selflessness' and 'strength' was an incredibly lonely one. Maybe he didn't want that for Kyle.

He never wanted Kyle to be alone; never. He never wanted Kyle to be without care or affection, because he knew Kyle deserved so much that he didn't receive.

I'll always be with him.

The thought sort of spilled into the front of his mind; it made his heart thump a little louder, as if it were a mistake. His brain had nearly ordered him, that he would never leave Kyle. That no matter what Kyle said or did, Stan swore to himself that he would never allow Kyle to know one lonely day. That no matter what kind of person Stan became, no matter how he changed, he would give Kyle all of his time and all of his care.

Stan's grip tightened a little before he whimpered, "…good, you faggot."

Kyle laughed at Stan's insult with a muffled cough and turned to Stan again before demanding quietly, "Stan…you should go back to class…I promise I'll be fine. I'll see you on the bus after school."

Stan was sold then; when Kyle promised something, he never broke it. Stan's heart finally beat at rest as he rose and smiled before murmuring, "…fine…you better really be okay."

Kyle chuckled, somewhat reluctant to let go of Stan's hand for reasons he couldn't place before telling him, "I'll really be okay, Stan."

Stan grinned; "Then I'll see you on the bus."

"You'll see me on the bus." Kyle repeated

"Promise?"

Kyle laughed, "Yes, Stan, I promise."

Stan finally surrendered and turned to walk back to class; he had just made eye-contact with Kenny when he stopped in his tracks. He turned his head slightly, spotting what had stopped his turn and cocked an eyebrow as he looked to Kyle. Kyle's hand was still tightly gripping Stan's.

The charcoal-haired boy began to form a question kind enough to have Kyle elaborate, but Kyle immediately let go of Stan's hand the moment he realized his friend was going to mention it. Stan's heart skipped a beat at the tenderly adorable image of his red-headed friend turning his freckled and flustered face away. His eyes were low and embarrassed and he was holding his hand to his heart as he stammered to Stan, "S-sorry. I forgot I was holding on. Y-you can go."

Stan blushed as he turned away, waving awkwardly as he walked through the threshold with Kenny, replying as he walked away, "It's okay, see ya later, Kye."

Kyle blushed more furiously; there he went again, calling him by the stupid nickname. Kyle didn't know what had just happened, and he hoped it was just the effects of his awful fever that had made him flush with red and forget he had engrossed Stan's hand in his own. Kyle shut his eyes close in mortification and bashfulness as he turned redder yet when his brain scolded him, telling him that he hadn't forgotten at all. That he hadn't wanted Stan to leave or let his hand go. Kyle prayed that when this fever passed, his heart would not beat as it was and he would not wish for Stan to remain ever present.

Stan was walking alongside Kenny in the hallway; Kenny soon turned to Stan and asked,

"So how long as it been?"

Stan turned to Kyle with a strange expression, asking, "Sorry?"

"You know…since you guys starting going out."

Stan's face flooded with several shades of red before he quickly stumbled, "N-n-no! W-what? What are you talking about?! Kyle and I aren't like that…we're…we're just friends! Why would you think we were…like that…"

Kenny smiled solemnly before nodding and sighing out, "I dunno…the way you guys get along so well, you're always spending so much time together, you act like he's dying when he's just sick, and you guys hold hands…I dunno, Stan…you guys just seem to care a lot about each other."

Stan was looking saucer-eyed at Kenny as he spilled those arguments; he was right. Him and Kyle did care deeply about each other, but they were Super Best Friends; they were supposed to be like that…right? It wasn't unnatural to want to spend every day with a Super Best Friend, or to sometimes overreact when they're in pain, or dedicate your life to healing them of their loneliness, right? It's true, that Stan could die in the pain he put himself through whenever he hurt Kyle, that he never really wanted to be without him…but…but that way normal, right?

Stan let his eyes sink and watch his feet stride across the borders of the green tiles of the hall. It was okay to feel like that, right? Those times when he wanted to hug Kyle, those times when he sat up all night worrying in Kyle's nights of illness, those times he fought and sacrificed nearly everything but his dignity for Kyle…everyone had those kinds of times, right?

He turned back to Kenny as he asked, "You really think he's like that?"

Kenny returned Stan's gaze and replied with a question, "Like that? You mean gay?"

Stan nodded nervously, but Kenny responded without missing a beat, "Yeah. I always kinda suspected he was that way. With the way he's always sticking up for you even though he's a scrawny, unpopular, sickly diabetic, and the way he admires you and stuff…it just always made sense to me. But I don't hear you saying you don't feel that way about him, huh, Stan?"

Kenny nudged Stan's arm with his elbow and added a sleazy wink with the ending of his question. Stan blushed again as he stuttered, "N-no! Of course I'm not! Are you out of your mind?! I…I could never be like that…"

Kenny laughed, "…yeah, Stan…sure."