"What? What happened?"

"It's Kyle!"

The urgency in his voice came again, just like that day of the dreaded poptarts. Stan's brain bruised in dizzy pain as he shot up right and demanded nervously, "What's going on?!"

"We…we all went to a bar together, cause Kyle and Cartman are tall enough to pull off an adult-look, and we got in! It was great until I stupidly told Kyle what I've been feeling and whatever…but he'd been drinking and I kissed him and…and…I was kinda wasted too, and I still sort of am, but I'm sobering up…and…and…"

"And what!?"

"I went back to dancing and ended up getting nasty with some skank and now he's gone!"

"What?"

"He left, I guess, I don't know where he is and Cartman's gone too!"

Stan's heart skipped a beat. The only thing that sounded threatening was Cartman being gone as well. Stan growled and jumped out of bed, slipping on shoes and telling Kenny,

"I'll be there soon; it's near Clyde's house, right?"

"Yeah."

With that Stan hung up but kept his phone on. No one saw or heard him leave the house, and it was a good thing too. First of all Stan's parents didn't know him and his friends had ever had a drink in their lives; second of all he was only in pajama pants and shoes out in the freezing cold and third of all his mother would have alerted the police and gotten the whole lot of them in trouble. He rushed out into the cold, his huffs turning into icy fog as he jet down the sidewalks, glancing either way all the while; looking for a red coat, a fat silhouette, a green Ushanka, a red curl, anything! He was running by what he thought was a bonfire, but slowed down when he saw one large silhouette over another small one, lying down on the snow.

Stan's chest wrenched as he raced over; so nervous he couldn't form words. It was Kyle and Cartman; it had to be. He was stretching upon the ground and eventually reached the icy pit where Cartman sat. He looked to the heavier boy angrily and finally snarled, "W-WHAT THE FUCK, C-CARTMAN!?"

Eric looked to him sorrowfully, his eyes fogged with intoxication. The Jew was unconscious and lying across his lap. A fire before them; Kyle's journals.

Stan glared, even when he noticed Cartman's streaks of tears.

"If I can't have him, I don't want anyone to."

Stan was repulsed; he felt sick, but it may have been from running in the freezing cold with no shirt on. He gripped Kyle's arm and in one swift moment swept him out of Cartman's hold. He heard Kyle murmur, "…S-Stan?"

"Yeah, it's me, dude."

Kyle didn't say anything coherent after that, though. Stan looked to Cartman and felt the anger rise even higher within him when Cartman continued to stare at the fire and utter, "If you were me…and read what was in there, you'd understand."

"No I wouldn't. I'm not a sick psycho who drugs his friend and sets his secrets on fire. You're a fucking freak and need help…Cartman…if you ever touch Kyle again…"

Stan's throat filled with angered bravery as he continued, "I swear to God you won't see tomorrow."

Stan tossed Kyle's thin, nearly weightless body over his shoulder and walked home. Cartman did not follow and Stan called Kenny on his way home. He told Kenny that he needed to learn responsibility and told him to stick to girls. Kenny, surprisingly enough, agreed. Stan felt bad; he could hear Kenny's heart broken in his voice over the fact that it was probably his fault that Kyle had been out there with Cartman alone. He didn't need to say it, though. Stan eventually made it home and decided he'd come up with an excuse as to why Kyle would be there tomorrow. When he entered his room he let Kyle down to his feet; Kyle wasn't really drunk, he was clearly drugged. Stan smiled sadly as Kyle looked to him with low, tired-like eyes.

Kyle blushed furiously and took a step closer to Stan; Stan did not move as Kyle progressed towards him. They were finally chest-to-chest when Kyle muttered in a hot breath, "…Stan…"

Stan would've replied had his lips not been covered by Kyle's. To say Stan was caught off guard would be an understatement; he was shocked. He was going to try to stop Kyle's advances, he was going to push him away and possibly beat the living shit out of him, but somehow never got to it. He just allowed Kyle's thin arms to wrap around his neck and let Kyle's dexterous fingers to rake through his charcoal hair. Soon enough, Kyle was taking his shirt off and Stan was beet red, but it was then that he stopped. He knew Kyle would most likely forget this by morning, and it was no use. He had a short daydream, imagining it was the morning after and Kyle would wake completely naked in a bed with Stan, possibly feeling sticky or wet.

When morning came Kyle was already awake. He turned over; thinking he was home in his comforter. He was surprised to find Stan's arm draped over him with his lips only inches away from Stan's. He stained his cheeks with red as he recalled that night. He could only remember blurred, quick moments, but they were certainly there and certainly real. He looked to the sleeping boy; his silk hair falling over the top of his head onto his pillow. His face was calm and stoic, his lips not parted in the least. Kyle's heart thumped louder in his chest as he slowly realized he was fascinated in tasting them. After all, what was the harm? Stan was asleep, and Kyle certainly knew he wasn't gay; it was all curiosity. He then remembered the quote "Curiosity killed the cat" and replaced it with "Curiosity killed the straight man." Then his brain starting playing "Video Killed The Radio Star" and he decided to stop his idiotic train of thought.

He leaned upwards a little and ran his tongue over Stan's full lips. He shifted so that his nose fit next to Stan's and continued to run his tongue over the boy's lack of expression. Stan's body slowly began to reply, feeling the welcomed sensation. Stan's sleeping body returned the actions, though slowly and calmly. Kyle thought of how it was so different from the last times he had kissed Stan. Stan was usually so dominant, and fast and strong. Kyle blushed even more furiously when he started yelling at himself for having memorized the feeling of Stan's kisses. He was scolding himself inwardly, but he also noted he was stilling kissing Stan. It was like he was being a hypocrite to himself, so all in all, he didn't really mind. He started accepting just how much he loved being like this with Stan.

He ran his hands up, hooking his hands under Stan's ears, brushing through his smoky hair and hungrily dominating the kiss. He broke away to catch his breath and saw the dark red in Stan's cheeks; then he moved his vision to the pillow. His red curls were leaking onto Stan's hair and their silky textures were making them run over each other like ice on ice. Kyle returned to Stan's sleeping pout and was suckling and lapping over his thick bottom lip when he heard Stan intake deeply. Kyle instantaneously moved away and waited for Stan to come to. His friend opened his ocean blue eyes and sighed a warm breath. He asked simply, "You okay?"

Kyle muttered in reply, "…yes…I'm fine. But…just…forget about last night, please…"

Stan's brows rose in surprise as his face darkened with red, "W-what? You remember last night?"

"J-just the important parts…"

Kyle rose out of the bed, stating deadpan, "We've got school. I'm gonna get home as fast as I can."

Stan rose and followed Kyle; standing behind him and realized somewhere within the last couple months he had grown taller than Kyle. He could smell the sweet scent of Kyle's hair radiating from their distance, or lack thereof. He sighed and thought for a moment…

A while ago, Stan had kissed this boy that stood before him. He had kissed him, passionately, trying to show the boy how he felt by using his body. Back then he couldn't word how he felt, and that fact remains. He was sick of this; this pathetic hiding and fear. It made him sick to the pit of his stomach. He felt like a coward to himself. He stepped forward, lifting his hand into Kyle's labyrinth of curls before making his decision…

"You wanted to kiss me, Kye…"

Kyle blushed, still not turning to face Stan as shivers shot down his back from Stan's hand running against the back of his neck…

"W-what? What do you mean? I told you to forget about it, I was drugged up…"

"Exactly," Stan began, "you were drugged up, yet you still said my name before you kissed me…you knew it was me…"

Kyle turned ten shades darker, if at all possible and snapped, "N-no! No I didn't, I was fucked up last night and you know it and I never would've done it had I not been drinking and been drugged!"

Stan leaned over, running his kiss-swollen, torrid lips over Kyle's ear, murmuring, "Cause you wouldn't have had the courage."

Kyle twisted around, his face a mixture of anguish and sorrow; "N-no! No I…no! Just no! I don't…I wouldn't…no! No! No! No!"

"Kye…"

"S-stop! Stop calling me by that s-stupid nickname! It's so gay! And…and you're gay! And…and no, no, everything is so wrong here! Everything is wrong…this isn't how it was supposed to be! You're not supposed to like me like Eric and Kenny! You're supposed to be my best friend!"

"I am your best friend!"

"No! No you're not! J-just leave me alone from now on! Don't come near me anymore!"

With that, Kyle ran out of Stan's room leaving him with only his thoughts. But Stan figured that maybe that was all he could ask of Kyle.