Sorry for the slow updates. Been very busy these past few months, though hopefully updates shall be more frequent in the upcoming weeks. This chapter is dedicated to Ami, who is the Stan Marsh to my Kenny McCormick. She inspired me to finish writing this chapter and has done nothing but support me and my writing. I love you.

Kenny's POV

May 18th

I had been awake since 2am, and I hadn't been able to sleep. I had nodded off for a while since midnight, but then some subconscious reminded me sharply that the next day was my first day back to school since April. I wasn't sure exactly how I felt about going back; a part of me mentioned that it was better than sitting around here waiting for Stan to come back, but the other part argued that it meant seeing...Kyle again. Maybe me going back would cause difficulties for Stan? He'd have to flit from Kyle to me and would that really be fair? But then again would it be fair on me by forcing me to be around Kyle again? I squeezed my eyes shut and pictured myself around him, around his scent, his smile, his touch, his clothes that I once wore, his voice...

A great, strong tug jerked at my heart and my eyes snapped open. My eyes felt wet and it took me a moment or two to feel the cool beads trickling down the sides of my face, past my chin and then dribbling down my throat. You know when you think about a moment and it starts to play in your mind despite your head telling you it'll do you no good and will only hurt you even more? I began to think back, and it felt like a splinter, sitting raw and tender in my chest.

February 16th

Kyle had suggested we skipped the last two lessons of the day to spend some time alone at his house before his family returned home. It was snowing lightly, but it didn't deter us from taking a slow stroll down the street, hand-in-hand, lavishing those rare instances when we were completely, utterly and wonderfully alone. No family, no friends, no strangers. Nothing to make us feel out of place or anxious, and we could act like a normal couple. We were laughing about something, though I struggle to remember what. All I know is that his face, rosy and flushed from the chill, was lit up and he looked so...beautiful. It's an odd way to describe someone who's male, but handsome just didn't do it justice.

He tilted his eyes upwards, and for some reason we just both stopped walking, stopping stock still to look at one another, our breaths pouring from our mouths like clouds, melding to create one giant one before fading into nothing. Whenever Kyle looked at me that way, a lump would rise in my throat and I would just keep thinking about how happy I was, how happy he was making me. I'd never felt that good, so content, in my entire life and I clutched at it like I was drowning, scared of losing it all and being left with nothing. But my grip was also slacked because a part of me strongly believed we'd never be apart.

I reached out and adjusted the collar of his jacket to ensure he was shielded from the wind; he was staring intently into my face, hands folded at his chest as he held himself for additional warmth. I smiled to myself, muttering something about what he'd do without me. He whispered that he didn't know. My hands froze on his zip of his jacket that I was going to pull up to its limit, and Kyle's hands were suddenly seizing my shoulders, pulling me closer and he leaned upwards to press his lips against mine.

His lips were slightly chapped, rough compared to their normal suppleness due to the weather, but I didn't mind. I kissed him back, my eyes shutting upon contact and my hands instinctively dropped down onto his hips. It was one of our moments of complete privacy, and I savoured every millisecond of it, knowing soon our very relationship would soon resume being a huge secret, one we concealed with upmost care and cautiousness. Right then, we weren't a gay couple, and we weren't just two friends walking home. We were a couple, a loving one at that, a relationship shared between two people whose genders were irrelevant. We were just Kenny and Kyle, and I loved it. We only stopped when our lungs reached their maximum and were absolutely starved for proper intakes of oxygen.

As we gulped the air like water, I kept my eyes closed and my forehead against his, my hands tightening on his hips and his on my shoulders. That squeeze was a silent 'I love you' and struck me the same as the very words. The rest of the journey home was a blur, a mixture of laughter, swift pecks on the lips, cheeks, hair, anywhere we could steal a quick kiss and then we went straight up to his room after checking his parents or Ike hadn't come home early unexpectedly. Thrilled to find we had the house to ourselves, we just allowed ourselves to let loose.

To me, I felt like we were a married couple or at least one that lived together. I imagined the house was our own, and the walls secluded us from the rest of the criticising and unforgiving world. I made sandwiches in the kitchen whilst he picked a movie for us to watch, slipping into a fresh change of clothes that hung off of him so perfectly it made my heart throb. I changed too into one of his spare shirts, pulling the collar over my nose so I could inhale his scent deeply, imprinting every different smell into my mind. We watched some random film, our eyes really set on each other, stealing sneaky glimpses, grinning when we caught the other looking at the same time.

The second the film faded into credits, I turned fully round to face him and he did the same. His eyes flicked from my eyes to my lips, gradually becoming more frequent, and his eyelids turning heavy as we leaned in closer to one another. I cocked my head to the left and he to the right, and our lips met again. Kyle's hands were smoothing my hair, fingers curling round my ears as he passed them on his way down to my jaw line, tracing the shape of it until he reached my chin, encouraging me to get closer. My hands roamed slowly over him, memorising him like he was my Braille, reading every little raise of his skin, every bone I travelled past, how his skin texture became smoother from his nipple downwards.

Kyle breathed something about going upstairs and we did, continuing to kiss on the way up the stairs, he walking backwards, stumbling on a step he did not foresee and me steadying him, gripping him more and more as I became increasingly desperate for him. Inches of me were throbbing and aching, groaning his name and pleading with me to follow my feeling's strict instructions.

Our clothes, a second, irritant layer of skin to us were torn away from us and that insecure, worrisome pieces of ourselves were stripped from us. We were the only things that made any sense in the world, and we didn't want to branch out any further to find anyone else. We made love for the second time, and it was also our last. I won't ever forget the way we lay afterwards; his arms wound around my waist and mine around his back, his head resting perfectly on the curve between my head and shoulder. Neither of us spoke; I for one didn't really want to. The pleasurable thumping continued to radiate between my legs, gradually ebbing away, my heart went on pounding behind the cage of ribs and the taste of his name was still fresh on the tip of my tongue. I wanted to let it roll off of it again but held it back like a hiccup, ignoring its urgency to be set free.

"Is it funny that we used to be...just friends and now we're...now we're this?" Kyle said quietly, kissing my chest right over my heart, lips twitching at its rapid pace.

I felt a twinge of disappointment that the silence had been snapped but I couldn't imagine someone better to break it.

"Yeah..." I sighed, rolling over to look at him, his hand moving onto my stomach. I scanned his eyes. "I'm glad things changed though...it's one of those good changes."

His expression turned vacant, like he was sinking into thought and I allowed him to. I simply pressed my mouth against his forehead, keeping it there for a few minutes, breathing him in. We dressed half an hour later, leaving his room to greet his family who had returned home shortly after we'd started to get changed. Kyle was my routine, and I followed him faithfully and eagerly. If he'd suggested pulling a Romeo & Juliet, I would have in an instant without a second thought, and I didn't question him, not at all. I trusted him, but most of all I loved him...

May 18th

...I suppose I still do, which was why it was so hard now having to go back, having every single detail of those days and nights etched sharply into my skull. It was so vivid and clear, and it hurt me to think about. When we broke up, a wall of security that had been slowly built, brick by brick of comfort, trust, and love had toppled down and I was left staring at where it had once been, wondering what I had done wrong to make it crumble so quickly. It just fell down so easily, like it had been built with little care, although I had put every effort and everything I had into building it up. I wasn't so sure I could go through that again...

Stan's POV

I'd been feeling insanely guilty, about a lot of things but the main one being what occurred between Kyle and me on the Saturday. Seriously, what the fuck was I thinking? I let him kiss me and the sickest thing was I enjoyed it. As much as I tried to shove it all away out of my conscious, as much as I wanted to turn my mind away all I could feel was the ghost of Kyle's kiss on my mouth, the noises our lips made sounding in my ears and how I felt when he'd squeezed my hips...shit that's fucked up...

Kenny had texted me twice, once on the Saturday evening and a second time on Sunday morning. Just little ones, asking how I was and saying he'd say me on Monday. I just couldn't find the balls to reply to him. I felt like pulling my waistband to my boxers and taking a peek just to check my nuts were still there. They were, much to my confusion. If they were there, how come I couldn't even answer Kenny's texts? I hadn't really done anything wrong...technically. Kyle had kissed me and I had pushed him away...eventually. And it wasn't as if I had wanted more...consciously. Saturday night, I couldn't sleep. I stayed up watching movie after shitty movie, trying to preoccupy myself. Sunday night I had the sickest dream I'd ever had.

Kyle was kissing me again but we were naked and he wasn't keeping his lips to mine this time, those bastards were going literally everywhere and I moaned and mewled like a little bitch, begging for more. When did all of these thoughts spring into my mind? I clamped my hands over my eyes and took a deep breath, hearing it tremble as if I was holding back tears though my eyes remained dry. I slept rough to say the least, and I was up an hour early, early enough to spend some time downstairs with my dad as he got ready to leave for work. When he asked why I was up, I lied and told him I had a major headache, though he didn't seem to hear my answer as he was half-asleep, munching dazedly on his cereal.

The morning went pretty fast from there and before I had time to prepare myself, it was quarter to eight and I had to go and pick up Kenny. My heart somersaulted and I tried to waste time, patting down my jeans several times over to check for my keys, even though I felt them in my jacket pocket. I smiled faintly when my mom pointed out their location.

"Are you okay, Stanley?" Mom asked, narrowing her eyes. "You're not usually this bad in the morning."

"I'm fine," I replied hoarsely, slipping on my trainers. "Promise." I insisted as her gaze sharpened.

"Alright, but if you feel ill during the day, you have my permission to come home," she said, not entirely convinced I was telling the truth. She cupped my face and kissed my forehead tenderly, smoothing out my hair before I shrugged out of her grasp. "Have a good day," she called after me as I strode briskly down the road in the direction of Kenny's house.

I skidded and tripped my way over, clumsier than usual due to my thoughts being elsewhere, revolving around Kenny and Kyle. They swirled around with such dizzying speed I couldn't even tell the two apart anymore. I had to lean against the nearest fence I could, swigging the icy cold air to refresh my body, pushing away the stuffiness that filled me like straw.

"Stan?"

Needless to say, I jumped out of my frigging skin. When I swung myself around, I registered two things; Kenny's house and then Kenny himself, standing right in front of me, a perplexed look on his face. It struck me then, maybe 'cos we were out in broad daylight I dunno, but it hit me how different he looked from the last time I saw him properly outside. He was back with Kyle then, and his eyes seemed much brighter, his skin seemed less ashen and pallid, and, possibly most noticeably, his hood was down. Now it had resumed its usual placement over his head although no snow or rain was falling. It was his barrier, back up again, protecting him and keeping him safe. Now, something as trivial and feeble as a hood being up meant nothing for everyone else; if Cartman came in wearing a hood over his head my second thought (after wondering how he managed to get it over his fat head) would be that it was slightly out of the ordinary but I wouldn't think more into it. He probably just wanted a change or extra warmth to conceal his ears from the cold...but with Kenny it was different. Ever since he was a kid he'd wear it; teachers would tell him off time after time but after a while they grew tired of tearing it off his head to find him pulling it back on five minutes later. It didn't really matter to me back then, I just knew that was how he liked to dress and I didn't question him about it.

Only when Kenny had taken it down when he was with Kyle, did I suddenly understand. He was hiding because being invisible was something he didn't necessarily like, but he felt safer and more secure. It was his security blanket, and when it was down I started to notice him more. How scruffy his hair really was and no matter how frigging hard I tried I couldn't flatten it; how he wrinkled his nose whenever he was confused or didn't like something; how he was sensitive to the cold; how wide and fucking natural his grin was. All of those things made me like him more, made me feel closer to him. He wasn't just a hood anymore or a jacket for that matter; Kenny was a person, a friend. And now the hood was back up, it was like he was trying to fit back into that old persona, just the accessory, but I couldn't forget the person, the friend, underneath it...fuck that was really gay...

"Hey Ken," I choked, clearing my throat 'cos it sounded like I was about to burst into tears. "I didn't see you there."

"Well you couldn't really," Kenny said softly. "Your eyes were closed."

We stared at each other blankly for a moment; I felt caught between laughing and feeling irritated both for completely unknown reason since his statement was neither hilarious nor annoying. Looking into his eyes, I felt all my concerns and guilt begin to slip away, sliding into an unconscious part of me that I would soon reunite with when I was away from him. Right now, I relished it and decided to keep a positive attitude around Kenny, to keep him optimistic about his first day back. When my mouth split into a grin and I held out my hand to him, he looked surprised.

"C'mon then," I said as brightly as I could manage. "Let's get going."

Kenny didn't say a word and he didn't really have to. I'd said everything in those simple words, and he milked comfort from them, walking to meet me and tapped my hand away, his mouth twitching.

"No hand holding," he said lowly, a wisp of a laugh in his voice. "People will think we're gay."

0000

We talked with ease all the way up to the school, side by side, talking about anything and everything. That was one thing I loved about Kenny; I could bring up utter shit, like some retarded thing Sparky did last night and he'd bust a gut laughing. He was easily pleased, which was probably why he could withstand Cartman back when Kyle and I were borderline a married couple. I didn't feel boring around him; I didn't have to suffer prolonged silences or feel like I was frantically searching for topics he'd find entertaining or interesting. With Kyle, he'd always wind up discussing Cartman in some shape or form, and that was the only way to fuel the conversation. With Kenny...it was as if he was just eager to speak and to be acknowledged.

Only when the school began to emerge into view, did Kenny start to quieten down until he reached the point of just his lips twitching into an awkward smile whenever I spoke and a brisk nod alongside a quiet "Yeah" or "Mhmm". If I wasn't aware of how great a step this was for him in his getting over Kyle, I would've felt agitated that he wasn't paying attention to me, perhaps even a little saddened that the enthusiastic and light atmosphere had dimmed. But this was a massive step in Kenny's recovery and a speck of concern dotted itself in my mind as I considered the possibility of this going horrifically wrong and setting Kenny back rather than dragging him forwards. I decided to try to distract him and make him feel like this was just another normal school day as best as I could.

"Ken, Mr. Cunningham really liked your poem," I threw it out there, a part of my brain ticking as it recalled our English teacher's praise.

Kenny blinked and looked at me, his thoughts, for the time being, averted. "Poem?" his voice sounded strangled, like it had just about managed to clamber out of his tightly sealed throat.

"Yeah," I stopped walking and dove my hand into my back, shuffling through countless pieces of paper, some possibly from last year and never touched after I received them from my teachers. "Hang on..."

I stuck out my tongue as I pulled out sheet after sheet, giving them hasty glimpses before deeming them useless and putting them back into the depths of my rucksack until my bag's next clean out (whenever that would be). And then there it was; Kenny's English book, scruffier than it was originally if that was possible. I found him the page, feeling the same squirm in my stomach as my eyes skidded over the first sentence as I did the first time I read it, and then handed it over to him.

Kenny took it from me and stared for a long while at it, eyes swinging to and fro as he read, and then his face turned alarmingly red. He let out a tiny gasp and then shoved his book back into his bag, catching his fingers on the zipper as he did so, letting out a yelp. Kenny put his smarting fingers to his mouth as if to soothe the grazes.

I was freaking perplexed to say the least...then felt worried in case he remembered he had written it for Kyle. But he wasn't crying, and he didn't look upset. If anything he just looked purely embarrassed, like I had just walked in on him during his 'flying solo' moments if you catch my drift.

"Let's go," Kenny said abruptly, not looking me directly in the eyes. "We'll be late otherwise."

I blinked, bemused. Kenny was actually in a rush to get to school? I suppose he wasn't really thinking about Kyle at that point. He just looked keen on moving on from what had just occurred...although what that was I wasn't entirely certain. He was already walking away before I could reply, sliding and slipping in his determination to get away as quickly as possible. I sniggered to myself, tucking my hands in my jacket pockets and I followed him up to school...

Kyle's POV

If I could rename Monday "Kenny-Coming-Back-Day" I totally would because that was all this day was to me. It wasn't the end of the weekend to me like it usually was, and I dreaded it for entirely different reasons. See, Stan and Cartman had been kinda easy on me concerning the whole break up scenario and hadn't been slamming it in my face. I wasn't quite sure why Cartman had been letting me get away with it, but I had a feeling that Stan may of had a part to play or perhaps the fat ass was just relieved that he didn't have to live up to his vows of revenge against Kenny for breaking his nose. After all, Cartman was a complete and utter wimp.

Things hadn't exactly been left on a good note with Stan and me. I'd kissed him...again. And I got rejected...again. I was starting to get a little cut up over these pinches of denial. The first time, I didn't expect him to respond. I would've been shocked if he had, and when I had looked into his eyes, searching for his reaction, I wasn't stunned to find confusion, hurt and anger tangled up together there. The second time, however, I had expected something a little more than him pulling away from me a second time, those same emotions knotting themselves with brand new ones, which was mostly frustration.

"What the fuck gave you the impression I wanted to kiss you?" he said, his voice stiff only to be broken by his ragged breathing. "We're talking about Kenny, Kyle."

I had went to say the three words that had been dwindling inside of me for years, waiting for the moment to burst from my lips to bring everything into the light, to explain everything, to let him in and make him understand. But he turned away and the instant his back was facing me, I knew that I had punched a massive dent in our friendship. It would never truly heal, and that frigging hurt. It stung so badly, and the fear swung to and fro through me. I wanted to let him know, I wanted him to understand...he just discarded my feelings like they were blatant lies.

It had taken every ounce of strength within me not to get in contact with him. So many times I typed out e-mails and texts, long ones full of apologies and explanations that I swore would be expanded in person. The moment my eyes roamed over what I had just written, I cancelled the message, knowing it just wasn't enough. I knew Stan needed time; he was the kinda person who didn't like being confronted when he was feeling negative emotions. He'd rather deal with it by himself rather than share. When he and Wendy had broken up, he didn't answer any of my calls and it made me feel like a shitty friend, like I was useless to him, though when I saw him next he told me that he couldn't stand ruining other people's days and taking up their time by complaining about things that were out of his control.

I guess this was one of those moments, but now I was standing outside the school, watching countless students drag themselves past me, each whining about one thing or another. None of them really paid me any heed, and I was way too preoccupied to care. I was peering over countless heads, waiting to see any sign of Stan or Kenny. I dreaded yet anticipated seeing them both; Kenny to see how he was doing, and Stan to see how he was handling what I had done and whether he had quite forgiven me yet. Having two people who would rather avoid you at once is pretty rough.

The bell rung, alerting students that they had approximately two minutes to make their ways to their first lesson of the day, and I reluctantly joined the flood of pupils skidding and yelling on their way to class, stealing glances over my shoulder just in case I saw them. I didn't.

First lesson was gym (I always had it first on week one, and I only enjoyed it for one reason...I got to steal glimpses of Stan getting changed next to me). Although that one good reason was probably non-existent since by then I had assumed Stan wasn't in for whatever reason...I just hoped it wasn't me. I was usually first there to gym 'cos Stan and I would stand there scratching out fake notes from our parents explaining why we had no kit, despite the fact Miss Maxine barely ever believed us and just gave us those left in the lost-and-found box kept in the P.E staffroom. To my surprise, I wasn't the first one there. Stan was.

Snow was caught in his thick, jet hair, his hands tucked deep into his jacket pockets as per usual, and his usual blue jeans hanging and hugging in all the right places, his dark blue eyes stuck on the wall. He looked so handsome...that was the thing about Stan Marsh. He was handsome even though boys our age were usually classed as 'hot' or 'cute'. Those two words did not sit on him right and the only one I could think of was handsome. That same fogginess drifted over my brain and I didn't want to think any more. I didn't want to worry and I didn't want to reconsider or think twice. I just wanted him, and I didn't want to second guess myself anymore. It did me no good.

Stan selected the perfect moment to meet my gaze and pinkness immediately brushed along his cheeks. I was highly aware of every slight movement he made, reading every twitch of his jaw, every shuffle of his feet, every gulp he made that made his Adam's apple bounce in his throat.

"K-Kyle..." he spluttered, and I crossed over to him, crushing my lips to his own.

Of course, Stan reacted how I thought he would. His hands instantly leapt to my shoulders and they began to push but I was ready. I began to pull and this deepened our kiss even more. My eyes remained wide open, staring into his misty blue eyes that were, at first, alarmed but then began to dim into a calmer shade as I ran my tongue along his bottom lip tentatively. People cave to their feelings, to how things feel, and then they don't think anymore. Stan wasn't thinking. He wasn't wondering about Kenny, he wasn't concerned about being caught, he wasn't even battling with the concept of being gay and kissing someone of the same sex. He rode the feelings and began to clutch at me, back hitching as I ran my hands up it.

We backed into the changing rooms, knowing the class would first have an assembly with the teachers, giving us enough alone time to explore and experiment. Stan fully supported being pushed against the wall; I was enabled to curiously run my hands over him. Everything was better than I had first imagined. I stroked his cheeks first, knowing he was ticklish there and then trickled down his neck earning a moan here, a groan when I skipped over his entire torso and touching a rather sensitive area of his that was covered by his pants. His eyes widened and, for a second, I wondered if I had pushed him too far but he bucked his hips as if begging me to go further. I complied.

Not for a millisecond did I forget who I was doing this to. This was Stan Marsh, and that fact sent shocks of electricity through me, rumbling inside of me and driving me on further. I wanted all of him, every inch, every layer of him, and every aspect. Unzipping his jeans I helped myself to what was beneath. His high-pitched moans and mewls drove me on further, squeezing his hips and denying them the ability to shift as I licked and nibbled softly. Stan cried out as I took him in my mouth and I smiled to myself, starting to suck. Straight away his hands went to my hair, running through it and pulling my head closer. His knees were going week and I had to keep a hold of his violently shaking legs that threatened to give way under him at any moment. It wasn't long before he came and I wrinkled my nose a little at the taste. I suppose not everything is as sweet and delicious as you expect it to be.

I straightened up and pressed my lips against his again, pressing up against him with one hand on his hip and the other knotting the back of his hair in my fingers. He hissed as I gave a tiny tug and I immediately made up for it by kissing his neck over and over, savouring the sounds my mouth made against his skin.

Sorry about the serious lack of updates and what happened in this chapter ^^; It was difficult to write about but it was what I had intentioned for the story and I couldn't work around it without changing the entire plot. Sorry to Ami who is probably shaking her fist at the screen right now. Let's just pretend for the entire Kyle POV that it was an imposter Stan Marsh! Plan ;]

Please review! It puts food on our table LOL