The Curious Moves

by Genis Aurion

THE EDITED VERSION. In which Stan becomes jealous of Kenny’s bold advances.

6. The Curious Moves

6: The Curious Moves

He stared wide-eyed at him, his gaze leaving scathing marks down his naked body. He smiled—it was all his, now—and as he searched him from head to toe, he couldn't suppress the grin that was already on his face. That neck, just asking to be bitten, to be hickey-infested… his shoulder blade, screaming for the touch of his desperate fingers… his chest, bare, pale, and waiting for his tongue to ravish it, explore its taste… his stomach, with his name already on it… his navel, practically gift-wrapped for him… his pen—

Stan woke up.
Just a dream.

He groaned, tearing the comforters off him as he sat up. He frowned, feeling the blanket in different areas, and then let another low groan.

Yep, just as he thought. They were sticky.

It had been the second time in a row—Kyle, spread atop a desk, papers carelessly rumpled beneath him, unhelpful books piled to raise his body where necessary… all a dream. Stan wanted to say they were in a library, yet he never seemed to recall any bookcases anywhere.

But the fact remained: Stanley Marsh was having boners over Kyle and books.

…Kyle with books.

…perhaps Kyle alone?

…but definitely not the books.

Stan sighed, stripping off his boxers as he tossed them somewhere. Thankfully enough, the dreams weren't happening at school, and Stan could only imagine how difficult it would be for him if he fell asleep during class nowadays.

He walked to his closet naked. He wondered, very suddenly and very randomly, if Kyle was having dreams like these, as well. He had another thought, that maybe Kyle was boning over Kenny—but he forcefully shut that out of his mind. Believe what you want to believe….

And, of course, Stan wanted to believe that Kyle was boning (over) him, not Kenny.

He found a pair of grey underwear and pulled them on. They would surely stain if he had another accident, but he hadn't much choice—after all, he had already used most of his colored boxers, and briefs would surely be an embarrassment for the boy to wear, especially if Kyle saw them.

No, there would be no other choice—Stan kept them on.

But now what? It was a Sunday morning, much too early for his own good, and Stan was left with nothing to do. Kyle would be sleeping, of course, and calling him would be unheard of….

Yet Stan grabbed his cell phone anyway, turning it on as he prepared to punch in keys. It took awhile to get to the screen he wanted, but eventually, with time, it came.

Morning dude call me when u wake up. I love u.

Stan frowned. Would that be a bit too forward? They had only been dating for two days now; what if love was too strong of a word for him?

But it was the truth, wasn't it? He had been using like all this time, but somehow Stan felt he really did love Kyle… yet did Kyle 'love' him back?

Stan shook his head, sighing as he punched a few more keys. It wouldn't do at all, no it wouldn't….

It now read: Morning dude call me when u wake up. I miss u.

Stan nodded at the message; that seemed much better. But then, another thought occurred to him: should he include a farewell?—should he type more? Would Kyle not believe him if he sounded too emotionless?

…but it was only words, after all, words that could only be seen, not heard, words without emotion, but simply staring at him, mundanely, coldly, revealing only as their meaning would allow….

Stan's face contorted, punching a few more keys: Morning dude call me when u wake up. I miss u see u soon.

That had to be better, it had to be. There was no way he could improve that message, he just knew it.

…unless… he made the sentence grammatically correct, with proper spelling and punctuation?

Grumbling, Stan pressed more keys—why did sending a simple text message need to have so many complications to it?

Resolving that he would change it no more, Stan looked at the final message: Morning dude call me when you wake up. I miss you see you soon.

Screw the punctuation, Stan muttered to himself, sending it to Kyle. Hopefully Kyle wouldn't be turned off by a boy with poor grammar.

…the thought alone scared him—what if he was?

XX

"…no."

"Aw, come on dude, just give it a try!"

"…no."

Stan whined. It was lunchtime, and Stan was in his room, with the door shut. He was on his phone, but not with Kyle—no, Kyle hadn't been home all morning, particularly because the family was to pick up Ike from the airport. Kenny didn't exactly own a cell phone, so….

Yes, he was on the phone with Cartman.

"Dude, you have to!" protested Stan. "You're gonna make Kenny really lonely if you don't go!"

"Why the hell are you making me go?—get Kenneh to not go, or somethin'!"

"…but I want Kenny to come, dude." Stan paused. "Come on, Cartman, just go."

"Nope." Stan groaned again. "Why do I have to go, anyway? The three of you will probably just have one giant threesome, even if I were there."

"No we wouldn't."

"Kenneh would. He'd do it for the kinky sex. And I'm sure Kahl's all about the relief." Stan shook his head as he searched his desk's drawers. "You'd do it to fulfill your fantasy, Stan."

"What?"

"Nothing," Cartman said quickly, and though Stan frowned at the thought, he was quickly diverted off matters when he found the battery he needed. "Anyway, I guess I'll come."

"Huh?" Stan said, blinking. "Why the sudden change?"

"What?" snapped Cartman; "can I not change my mind or somethin'? Besides… I kinda owe it to you guys, anyway."

Stan frowned; Cartman owed it to them? What the hell was that supposed to mean?

Cartman continued, as if he already knew what Stan wanted to ask. "Remember the time I made fun of you, in that one class, that one time?"

"…which time?"

"…you know… that one time."

"…goddamnit, Cartman, that falls under like, every time."

There was a moment before Cartman answered. "Okay, that one time, in seventh period, when I told you not to sink to Kahl's level."

Stan blinked. "I think so." He paused for a moment to replace the batteries in his clock. "Why?"

"Well… this is gonna sound totally gay…."

"Say it."

Another moment. "I… regret it."

Stan laughed; Cartman apologizing was gay to him?—god, what did he think of his three friend's affairs?

Cartman spoke again; maybe Cartman really was psychic…. "I've been treating you all quite… harshly lately, and I wanted to say… well, I wanted to say that I'm okay with my three best friends being… gay." He had said the last word so repulsively, but Stan hadn't cared. Three best friends…?

In a way Stan felt guilty. Here they were, always treating him disrespectfully, even ignoring him in the midst of the three's confusion—and still he considered them his best friends?

"I figured… Big Gay Al's pretty gay himself… and he's cool. So, you guys probably are too."

"Thanks, dude," Stan said, even turning red a bit. "You should probably tell Kenny and Kyle that, you know…. I'm sure they'd love to hear that, too."

And then, once more, Stan found it—the familiar tone of Cartman's he knew. "You fuckin' kiddin' me, Stan, they'll bring it to my grave if they find out!"

"Sorry… sorry… calm down."

The two shared a laugh. Things were going to be better now.

XX

It wasn't Friday night, and it was barely evening. Yet they were there, anyway.

"Good afternoon," a rather bored yet familiar lady said lamely as they walked through the doors. "How many lanes?"

"One's fine," said Stan, reaching for his wallet.

"Three pairs of rental shoes?" the girl in the red-and-white uniform added, looking especially at Cartman.

"Hey, she remembered!"

"Three's good," and Stan handed over the money. Somewhere behind him were Kenny and Kyle, and even though they weren't doing anything, he couldn't help but to snag a look….

Kyle smiled in his direction; Stan turned back to the lady.

"Twelfth lane," she said monotonously. "Buzz or call if you need assistance."

"Thanks… Jessica," Stan added, glancing upon her nametag. He turned around, handing out the pairs, and soon they left for their assigned bowling lane.

"We got lane twelve last time, didn't we?" asked Kyle, who was now (barely) holding Stan's free hand. He glanced first at Stan, who seemed to be shaking with each step he took; and then to Kenny, who seemed to have a curious eye on their clasped hands. "Cartman?"

"Aye! How the hell am I supposed to know?"

"…yeah," Stan said weakly, and Kyle left it at that.

Stan was nervous. Sure, he and Kyle had talked long into the hours of the night, sometimes even until the night itself had died in the morning's warmth; but in person, Stan had never felt so nervous. He had never thought he'd get the opportunity to be this close to Kyle, and yet… here he was, holding his hand.

It was the only thing he could really do with somewhat confidence. Would putting an arm around him give Kyle a wrong impression?—what if he leaned into him? Would that be okay?

And then, when they would be ready to leave, what kind of goodbye would he say?—what would he say, even? The love word was hard to manage, as he had already found out earlier…. And would he give a goodbye kiss, a hug?—a friendly hug, a romantic hug?

The four found their lane, and as Stan and Kyle sat down in the seats, Kenny and Cartman huddled around the small screen.

"Nu, Kenneh, I'm typing the names."

"Damn you, Cartman, if you punch in the names, then don't put any nicknames!"

"Fine!" sneered Cartman.

Kenny searched him from head to toe, giving a curious glance. "Okay then…. Now that that's settled, I'll go find myself some balls."

Stan laughed as he watched him leave; he remembered that line from days ago, back at McDonalds when Kenny had first told him to try his hand with Kyle… and here he was now, with Kyle by his side. Did Kenny regret that day?—Stan only hoped not.

He turned to Kyle, who was busy looking at the screen above them, as if waiting for Cartman to type his name in… properly. He looked at his free hand, which was resting idly on the seat. Should he…?

And he did. Though with much self-encouragement, he slowly extended his own hand and, after closing his eyes, let it fall on Kyle's.

He opened his eyes; nothing happened.

Stan sighed in relief.

Why was it so hard to touch Kyle? In all his dreams he could easily touch him, crave him, hold him… but he wouldn't go into the details, or he might have a slightly hard problem to deal with. But the point was, in real time, in the present… he couldn't. Well, it wasn't that he couldn't do it, but… it was more difficult than he would've imagined.

"He put my name," Kyle said at last, turning to Stan, not even acknowledging Stan's hand on his. "Not Jewboy or Ginger or Kahl… just Kyle."

Stan looked above him. "Wonder why he actually listened to Kenny?"—but he knew, of course, from their phone conversation not too long ago.

He felt Kyle lean on his shoulder, and for a split moment Stan felt a wave of happiness. He cheered on the inside; that would be another action he knew Kyle wouldn't mind.

"Tired?" Stan asked him, and Kyle nodded. "How was Ike's trip?"

Kyle laughed. "The convention was fine; he got first place in everything he entered, which scares the living hell out of me."

"Oh… right, that genius." Genius indeed—after all, Ike had known Kyle's secret…. Again, Stan wondered if Kyle knew about his brother's secret knowledge, but Stan decided it wouldn't be his place to simply ask him about it.

"But," continued Kyle, a smile all the wider on his face; "but, as for the plane ride itself?—well, he sorta… puked in the aisle."

"What?" asked Stan, and Kyle nodded.

"I'm not sure if it was because of plane food or what, but…." Kyle ended there. There was a moment of silence as the two watched Cartman hobble away, presumably to find Kenny.

Stan looked at Kyle—for some reason, Stan felt as if putting an arm around Kyle would make the scene look somewhat better, especially with Kyle's head already on his shoulder… and so, with little hesitance, Stan placed an arm around Kyle, bringing the boy closer to him as he looked down at Kyle.

He was smiling at him.

…but others weren't.

"Mommy, mommy, I think they're gay!"
"Don't stare, Matthew, it's impolite to stare and point."
"But Mommy, look, they're holding each other!"
"I think the boy's just crying, Mathew, now turn away." Stan could've sworn he heard the mother add "At least, what they're doing, they won't catch any girl cooties, now will they, Matthew?" after they were no longer looking at him, but Stan figured that might've just been his mom's voice echoing in his own mind.

…though he could be wrong, because shortly after Kyle snorted.

"Oh, by the way," Stan said, as it had only just come to mind. "Remember I was telling you about the person spying on us in the library?"

"Yeah," said Kyle slowly, biting his lip. "The person behind the bookshelf?"

"Yeah." Stan paused. "Well, I found out who it was."

"Really, who was it?"

"Who else?" Stan said, and the two joined together in laughter as Kenny and Cartman returned.

"…goddamnit, if I hadn't forgotten my custom-made ball…. It was right beside the shoes, too!"

Stan frowned at Kenny as Kyle seated himself upright once more—Stan kept the arm around him. "None of the balls fit him," Kenny said with a smug face, and Kyle broke into laughter. "I'd expect a zero score from him."

"We'll see now, Kenneh, won't we?" he challenged, and with a laugh he grabbed the nearest ball. "Let's play!"

XX

"…are you sure, dude?—it's only, like, six."

"Stan, I've gotta get a start on all my homework." Stan sighed; it was much quieter around them, now that Kenny and Cartman were already out of his car. Stan had been hoping to take Kyle out for the rest of the night, alone, but Kyle had declined him, remorsefully.

"Next time," said Kyle, "I promise."

"Okay." The two stepped out of his car, and as he locked the door, Stan hurried to Kyle's side. "Are you doing anything tomorrow?"

"Other than school?"

"…well, yeah, of course. Like, tomorrow evening."

Stan frowned, pausing to think. "I don't think so, dude. Why?"

Kyle stared at him blankly. "Wanna go out tomorrow, then?—like… a date, if you wanna call it that."

Stan's heart was beating faster now, his hand shaking as he placed an arm around Kyle's waist… wait, waist?—no!—he meant to put it around Kyle's shoulders!—shit!—what would Kyle think, what would he—

Stan blinked. Nothing.

"Stan?" Kyle asked, looking at him curiously.

"Huh?—oh." He smiled apologetically. "No, no, of course… what time?"

"Like, about this time." Stan nodded, and as they approached the front of his door Stan leaned against the wall of the house. A date? God, he wanted it so badly, but… he was already finding it difficult just holding him, let alone trying to impress the boy….

And then, as Kyle fished for his keys, Stan realized: that moment was here. The moment where he'd have to say goodbye, where he'd have to say something, do something, prove that—

"I'll see you later, then?" said Stan, shaking his head from all the thoughts, and as he pushed himself off the wall Kyle nodded.

"Hey, Stan?"

Stan turned around on the spot, almost falling in doing so.

"Hm?"

"Thanks." Kyle stepped forward, and for a moment Stan found himself trembling once more. But Kyle merely stepped right up to him, and as Stan felt arms wrap around him he figured mirroring would be at least a start.

It was a hug, but it certainly didn't have the feel of the one in the library. Kyle's warmth was mixing with his own, a much more welcome feeling, yet… all the anxiety and nervousness inside him was ruining it, spoiling the moment.

"For what?" Stan whispered into Kyle's ear, and the boy jumped.

…that's not what he had wanted to do, at all.

"For tonight," Kyle replied, pulling away to look at Stan's blue eyes. "And I'm sorry again for not being able to go out tonight, but—"

He did it. Stan wasn't sure what made him do it, and he grew increasingly scared the longer his mouth was clasped over Kyle's. Perhaps it had been the way Kyle was staring at him, or maybe just Kyle himself…. The kiss was still going, and Stan was waiting for it, waiting for the moment Kyle would push him off….

It never happened, though. It was still a pathetically light kiss, yet Kyle wasn't refusing; Stan found himself pushing Kyle into the wall, his instincts taking over, that lusting, Kyle-thirsty side taking over him….

Stan had been the one to end it.

It had taken him all his willpower to do it, convincing himself that if he kept this going his family would see them, walking in on them when they didn't even know Kyle had a thing for his best friend…. Plus, Stan didn't even know if Kyle was merely humoring him, if he liked it at all….

"I'm so sorry," Stan said, quickly backing away. Kyle was looking at him with a dazed look. Oh god, what had he done?—why had he just swooped in for the kiss, not even thinking—his breath probably smelled, too. Did he tilt at the right angle? Was pushing him into the wall a good idea?

Stan closed his eyes shut. He had ruined the relationship; he had gone too fast, he had lost his chance with Kyle…. There went every chance for one of his many wet dreams to come true… though that was the least of his worries, of course. God, he didn't even want to think about what would happen next. It would probably be too much for him.

But what did happen next? Well….

"What the hell are you sorry for?"—and when Stan opened his eyes he found himself lost in Kyle once more.

Stan's hands were on the move. They sought first his thick hair, his fingers entwining themselves in his red curls, tightening their grasp when pleasure came his way; but soon they left, trailing scorching trails down the back of his neck, circling its perimeter, tracing up toward his jaw line….

For a moment Stan's eyes widened, but his realization passed. This was real. It wasn't a coincidental situation; it wasn't an innuendo in any way. It was real; he really was kissing Kyle on his porch, his hands really were feeling the boy's soft cheeks, Kyle's warmth really was surrounding him….

They let go, only to catch their breath. By the look of Kyle's expression he seemed exhilarated, the widest grin plastered on his face. Stan most definitely felt the same, yet his lack of breath made it difficult for him to show it. So, he resumed doing the only thing he could to show Kyle he liked it.

His hands rested on Kyle's waist as they kissed again. Ignoring his usual, doubting instinct, Stan probed his tongue against the parting of Kyle's lips. His eyes widened when Kyle gave him the access, but he had no idea what to do once his tongue was in his mouth….

So he merely licked the insides of it, and soon he found himself occupied with a new quest: a quest to savor as much of Kyle's taste as he could. There was a distinct taste of pizza, probably from the bowling alley they were previously at… yet there was also something unique, something Stan couldn't place.

His fingers found the hem of Kyle's shirt, and, without thinking, he slipped them underneath. Kyle made no sign of disapproval—had this been the result of Kenny's influence?—so Stan merely continued in caressing the soft skin beneath his shirt, ghosting over the abs Stan kept forgetting he had….

And then, the opening of the front door tore the two apart—as if Stan had changed magnetic poles in an instant, suddenly repelling the two instead of attracting them….

"About time," said Ike, who seemed to be ignoring the fact that the two had just been in a rather hardcore make out session.

"About… time?" Kyle echoed.

"You're smarter than that," Ike said, shaking his head. "If you must know, for next time, don't kiss each other when the curtains in the living room window aren't drawn."

Kyle turned a deep red as he looked to Stan. "What's he mean by about time, dude? You know what he's talking about?"

"Not at all," Stan said, deciding it was better to not tell Kyle about his chat with Ike some time ago….

Ike seemed to catch this lie and consequently gave no comment on the matter. "I'm guessing you don't want me to tell mom, huh?"

"Tell mom what?"

"About you… and Stan." He gave a distinct cough, nudging his head inside the house. "They're… busy, we'll call it, and I really don't want to think about it, frankly. But you don't want me to tell them anything about you being with Stan, right?"

Kyle shrugged. "I guess… I don't think it'd matter much, though."

Ike stared at his brother blankly, and as Kyle turned to Stan, he seemed to be doing the same. "Your mom's insane, dude," Stan said quietly. "She might start a MAG organization…."

"Oh." Kyle nodded, and then shook his head. "Yeah, don't tell her I guess…." He turned to Stan, giving him an apologetic smile. "Well, Stan… thanks." He walked up to him and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before heading inside the house.

He remained motionless for several moments, even raising a hand to the spot where he had been kissed.

Ike, however, scoffed at the action. "So pathetic, Stan Marsh…. But I see you finally found out Kyle's secret?"

Stan nodded. "I had no idea why you kept calling it a secret until he told me…. Geez, he's just… too much of a genius, sometimes, you know? Kinda like you."

"We're not related," Ike reminded, staring at the sky. Stan muttered an 'oh' in his defense, finding himself just as lost amongst the stars. "On that note… I want you to promise me something, Stan."

"Is it something I can keep?" asked the boy, frowning. "I'll do my best, but—"

"You don't even know what I want to say, yet," Ike said, and Stan apologized quickly. "I want you to promise not to have sex."

There was a moment between them, neither boy talking as they met each other's gaze. And then, just as Stan tried raising an eyebrow, he couldn't help but to break the silence between them.

"How random…?" began Stan, but Ike's facial expression told him he was being completely serious. "Why?"

"It's not random," Ike muttered, still staring at the sky. "I just don't… well, I mean, by that I meant like, don't have sex for the hell of it, you know? Wait until you really want it…."

"You sound like my health teacher."

Ike merely glared at him. "My parents… my real ones… I think they must've had sex by accident or something… that's probably why they didn't want me." Ike hiccupped. "I just… don't want anyone else making that same mistake."

"I see," said Stan, turning to Kyle's adopted brother. "But, I mean, that doesn't really apply to us, you know. I mean… Kyle and me—we can't have a kid. I think male pregnancies only exist in crappy television shows, right?"

"I guess." Ike hiccupped again, turning to Stan. "Just… look after him, okay? I trust you more than that Kenny kid."

"I will," and, after giving a quick goodbye, sped away to his car. Yet the smile on his face was priceless—he was better than Kenny!

XX

He was in that dreaded class once more.

It felt the same every day—the same boring lecture, the same boring subject, the same, excruciating feeling, and the same, tantalizing anticipation, knowing that lunch was not too far off….

On his desk was a sheet of notebook paper, Kyle's name etched at the top. He scanned it once, viewing the letter he had written—would it be good enough? He barely found the need to write a letter to anyone before, yet it seemed to make so much sense. Of course, it could've just been the influence of sheer boredom….

He went over the paper, editing it for spelling mistakes. He'd have to ask him that, one day, if Kyle was turned off by bad grammar and spelling…. He placed it at the back of his mind, however, concentrating on making the letter as perfect as he could.

In the end his eyes fell upon the last line, a frown forming on his face.

I'm gonna see you in like, two seconds, dude, so I'll stop here. Hope you've had a good day so far. (Four lines of blank lines). Stan.

It was the same issue all over again. How would Stan say goodbye?

Sincerely yours?—no, that sounded too… well, not something he'd say.

From?—too simple, something he probably would've said before their relationship….

See you soon?—but he had practically just said that.

Love?—Stan paused at the word. Love… why the hell did it scare him so much? Had Kyle been right?—was he afraid that Kyle didn't really love him, that he was attached to Kenny, that—

No. He knew better. He had to trust Kyle.

But this love word…. It was a strong word, much like hate.

Yet he hated Cartman. But he hated Cartman. And though he was somewhat in good terms with him at the moment, he could say he still hated Cartman without second thought.

Same with Shelley.

But then, if he meant the word 'hate' when he used it… could he use the word 'love' when he meant it too?

…because, now that Stan thought about it, he did love him….

The bell rang. Stan panicked, looking at his letter—still blank, at the bottom. He bit his lip, feeling everyone around him vacate the classroom, and as he picked up his pencil he wrote down the four letters (and the comma).

Love,

It sounded so… pathetic, in Stan's mind, but he quickly folded the paper and stuffed it into his pocket. He hurried out of the class, dodged students in the halls….

He arrived in the cafeteria to find Cartman bickering with Kenny.

"They argue like a married couple," Kyle said quietly, whispering into Stan's ear. "But don't tell them that."

"I won't," said Stan, laughing as he watched the two. "What're they arguing about, anyway?"

Kyle sighed. "Kenny making too many innuendos. What else?"

XX

Stan was content with life for several reasons.

1 – Ike thought Stan would make a better boyfriend for Kyle than Kenny did.
2 – As he had found out shortly after Kenny's argument with Cartman, Kenny had taken a new liking for Tweek.
3 – Kyle gave his best wishes to Kenny, which, to Stan, meant that Kyle was now entirely his.
4 – Kyle was his boyfriend. Of course.
5 – Shelley had stopped being a freakishly pleasant sister to him, and although he hadn't minded the absence of objects flying in his direction, he felt safe knowing that things were returning to normal.
6 – Things were returning to normal.
7 – No one was complaining about his relationship with Kyle, not even Cartman.
8 – Kyle was his boyfriend… or had he already mentioned that?

There were many things Stan was happy about, but he didn't bother thinking of all of them. As long as he was enjoying life—that was what mattered.

XX

All those times he questioned his actions, became cautious of what he said, what he did, what others were doing, how they felt… they had all paid off. His curious moves had gotten him to where he was now, and he was more than thankful.

Stan expressed this to Kyle, who was seated on the swing next to him, and his Jewish boyfriend laughed.

"Tell me one more time?" Stan asked, and Kyle began explaining once more the plan he had undergone all those months ago, when Kyle had liked him secretly, not knowing those feelings were already being reciprocated…. "You're a genius, you know that?"

"I'm told." He swung lightly, glancing over his shoulder at Stan. "Oh, Stan, I read your note, by the way. It gave me… quite a laugh."

"Did it?" Stan said, chuckling under his breath. It had become a habit, ever since one and a half months ago, when he had written that first letter…. "So, any comments on it?"

Kyle smirked. "No, Stan, I am not turned off by bad grammar."

Stan gave an enthusiastic cheer. "Good, because I think I might've forgotten a period on the last sentence."

Kyle rolled his eyes. "Like I care, dude…." They continued to swing silently at the park, letting the winds of spring blow pleasantly against themselves… it wouldn't be long before summer, where they could spend countless hours under the sun, having almost no worries, just being themselves….

"You think we should tell our families about us?" Kyle voiced quietly, not looking at Stan as he spoke. "Ike's been pretty good about keeping silent, but… I'm afraid the longer I keep it from her, the longer mom will get mad at me."

"Do whatever you like," Stan said, shrugging. "I'm hoping Shelley stays quiet, too, but… if you feel ready, then I'll be, too."

Kyle laughed. "Even if you really aren't?"

"Even so." Stan flashed Kyle a brilliant grin, and Kyle couldn't help but to leave it alone.

"Always for me, huh, Stanley Marsh…. Don't you ever think about what you want?" Stan shook his head as Kyle jumped off the swing. "I don't think I'll ever understand you, dude…."

Stan followed suit. "Kyle Broflovski," he mimicked, jumping off his own swing and joining Kyle's side under the sunlit sky. "I don't think I ever will, either…."

- fin -