It had been a week since Kyle's indirect promise. Stan was walking around, down by the stores and wondering when he would escape the terribly cold weather and reach Kyle's house. The moment he thought of Kyle, those perverse images from Math re-entered his mind. This was not the first time these images had re-visited Stan. In actuality, he had been thinking a lot about it. It disturbed him to no end.

For his dirty dreams of the redhead, perverse scenes running through his mind during class and awful beat of his heart since Kyle gripped his hand last week he was rewarded no sleep. He was fairly confused, because since he was little he had always had a thing for Ms. Wendy Testaburger. Always. He knew what attraction was, and this was it. He had always thought of Wendy, of undressing her, of kissing her, of being her hero, but…now she was replaced with Kyle in his mind's eyes.

He let out a sigh of fog as he approached Kyle's house. He loved showing up at Kyle's unannounced. He loved surprising his best friend with his welcomed visits. He knocked and was answered by Mrs. Broflovski. Her large hair was as stiff as ever and she was still round and rosy as she exclaimed, "Oh, Stanley! How have you been? You're here to see Kyle? He's up in Ike's room, helping him make costumes for Ike's play!"

Stan's head rushed as it always did at her hurried interrogations. He smiled nervously, walking through the threshold as she moved out of his way. He grinned, walking towards the stairs and saying kindly, "Thanks, Mrs. Broflovski!"

He soon found himself in a hall and entered what he had grown to know was Ike's room. He walked in, though…to see something he never thought he would. And he had hoped he wouldn't, as it would increase his sinfully dirty dreams…

"Stan!" Kyle's voiced echoed in surprise as Ike gathered some pins off to the side of his bed

Stan stood in awe at the short, Japanese school-girl outfit Kyle was adorned in. Kyle had turned to him slowly, his hands with fingers curled raising to his chest in girlish, dainty embarrassment. The skirt twirled as he turned, the air lifting the top a little, revealing a glimpse of the toned stomach of his friend. Kyle's eyes were worried and sparkling in shock as one of his knees became weak and tilted into his other hairless leg. The image was so cute that Stan nearly fainted, blushing furiously before trying to compose himself and crack a joke, "Is this something I should know about?"

Kyle laughed anxiously, rushing to reply, "N-no! Ike has a play at school and…and he wanted me to help…I told him that he'd need to make it small on me to fit his friend, but…he didn't care…"

Stan chuckled, walking in to the room further, trying to remove the red from his face. He let his chuckles die out into a smile as he approached this math day-dream come real. He was standing in front of Kyle and Stan realized something intriguing. That when he looked down to Kyle, in the girl's uniform, noting his bashful fluster, freckled cheeks, enchanting, mesmerizing emerald eyes…he really looked like a girl. Stan was repulsed when his mind told him how he thought Kyle was cuter as a boy.

Stan rose his hand to Kyle's surprise; he knew Kyle was almost frightened by the way his shimmering, swirling irises followed Stan's hand to the top of his ushanka. As Stan's arm traveled further into Kyle's air, he instinctively moved closer to Kyle. Stan's eyes were low and lustful, and Kyle was intimidated…why would Stan look at him like a hungry prostitute? Kyle's face reddened even more deeply as Stan shifted ever so slightly and let his face grow closer to Kyle's. Their lips no more than an inch apart as Stan gripped the green ushanka and removed it; tossing it onto Ike's bed.

Kyle's knees were beginning to grow weak; he didn't know why. His heart was racing; he didn't know why. His face was growing hotter; he didn't know why; his arms begged to run up Stan's chest and let his hands brush and grip through Stan's hair. Stan's brain barked at him, screaming to him to play out the twisted scenes that had been flashing before his mind all week. To eliminate his hat, then his jacket (or in this case, his school-girl shirt), then allow him to take off whatever top he had on, then Stan would again take over and discard of whatever else Kyle was wearing.

Their faces were so close and Kyle was worried that Stan may kiss him. He was scared, frightened beyond comprehension; his heart was pounding at his ribcage, trying to push through his flesh or jump out of his throat. He didn't want Stan to kiss him…no…he…no, that's right, he didn't want Stan to…to…

…to…kiss him?

"Stan?" Ike's voice pierced through

Stan immediately stumbled backwards, chuckling and replying, "Y-yeah?"

"What were you doing?" Ike inquired

Stan nervously stammered, "I-I was taking the hat off…h-he looks more like a girl like that."

Ike observed Kyle with his index finger to his chin shortly, then told Stan, "You're right. He does look like a girl."

Kyle flustered cutely; Stan smiled as the redhead turned to his little brother and spat, "You're stupid, Ike, I don't look anything like a girl!"

Stan laughed and as he realized he had regained his grace and confidence he snorted, "Yeah, you do, dude."

Kyle turned to Stan sharply, a humorously offended look in his emerald eyes as he bickered, "No, I don't! And don't talk to me Mr. Emo-Flip-Faggot!"

Stan became defensive quickly and he fought back, "Hey! Girls dig Emo-flips, you ass-hat!"

Kyle's fists clenched as he snarled back, "I'm not an ass-hat, uncle-fucker, and you're such a liar! The only girl you care about seeing your hair-care is Wendy I-EAT-TESTACLES!"

Stan blushed with anger as he retorted, "WHAT? I am not an uncle-fucker, you're the uncle-fucker and Wendy TESTABURGER is way ho—"

Stan didn't finish his comment, though, as he finally noticed what he had revealed a while ago. Kyle's hair had indeed changed since they were little, Stan learned. Kyle's fro had calmed and turned into heavy, silky curls twisting down to his neck. They were a beautiful, dark, shiny coat of fiery red and it had captured all of Stan's attention until he heard Kyle make a girly squeak. Stan shot his eyes to Kyle's red face, his jade eyes showing forming tears as he twisted around to Ike and barked, "IKE! YOU JUST SHOVED THAT PIN IN MY ASS CHEEK! WATCH IT YOU LITTLE FUCKER! THAT HURT!"

Ike laughed and replied, "Sorry, Kyle…but you're getting distracted."

Kyle smirked to Stan and stated, "His fault."

Stan lowered his eyes evilly and snickered, "Yeah, come on, Kyle, stay on target."

Kyle glared, but with a smile. And that was the only important part to Stan.

After many "ouch"s, "watch where you put that!"s, "shut the fuck up"s and several insults regarding Wendy's meals and Stan's sexual orientation, Stan and Kyle left Ike's room fully dressed in their own clothing.

Stan was standing in Kyle's room with him, discussing exactly how much Kyle hated Ms. Garrison when Kyle's mother entered and announced,

"Boys, there's a blizzard starting. Stanley, your parents are still at your uncle's, upstate, so your mother told me to keep you here. Thank Abraham that it's Friday! Well, Ike's still at his friend's house, so I'm keeping him there, but your father wants me to join him; Kyle, you know how he hates this weather alone. So I'm going to him, you boys will be alone for a while if not the whole night, are you boys okay with that?"

Kyle looked to Stan; not acknowledging the rushed sentences of his mother as he had grown so used to them. Stan nodded and Kyle replied, "Yeah, that sounds fine, Mom."

She grinned and blew a kiss to Kyle before turning and shutting the door. Kyle plopped down on his bed, his back facing the ceiling as he asked Stan dully, "So, how do I get her?"

Stan turned from poking around Kyle's large collection of thick books on his shelves and ventured, "…sorry?"

Kyle closed his eyes tiredly against his puffing pillow, sighed and asked with a scratchy voice, "Wendy…how should I get her to like you again?"

Stan looked away bashfully, ashamed of what he had made Kyle think he needed to do. Stan coughed before telling Kyle while absently running his fingers down the spines of books, "You don't have to do this, Kyle…it wasn't fair of me to…say that…"

Kyle popped an eye open for a moment, then decided he really was too tired to keep it open, closed it and responded exasperated, "Ugh…Stan…I'm not doing this for my health…I'm doing this because I care about you. If I didn't want to help you, Stan, I wouldn't do it."

Stan flustered very lightly as his eyes traveled back to Kyle's bed.

There he lie; silky smooth, fiery curls falling over each other onto his pillow, his back muscles outlined by the slightly tight black shirt he wore; the small of his back was just scarcely showing, but it still led Stan to his doom as his temptation took over and his eyes gathered Kyle's rounded bottom hungrily. His eyes stayed there for a long while, devouring the image and all of the dirty thoughts it provided; he then traveled downward, noting how even in the green corduroy pants he wore, Kyle's legs were still visibly shaped and strong from the track team he had joined. Lastly he watched Kyle's big feet stretch, his toes curl and Stan could only think of all the rumors abo—

"Okay?" Kyle's voice cracked through

"…uhm…sorry, what?"

Kyle sat up, flushed, but he didn't know why. He glared at Stan and told him, "I care about you, Dude. As much as it might sound stupid and whatever, but…I do. A lot, I care about you a lot, okay? So yeah, for the rest of our lives, I'm gonna put my ass on the line, stretch my neck out and go out of my way for you to be happy. Get used to it."

Stan still pouted in astonished happiness as Kyle rose and walked up to Stan, planting a friendly hand on his shoulder. He smiled and suggested, "How about I go make hot cocoa, we sit down in front of the T.V. and see if any good scary movies are on?"

Stan smiled, he felt his heart pounding, but it was a good pounding. It wasn't pounding really, it was…singing…it was the best way he could phrase it…

"Yeah…that'd be cool."