The Unnecessary Epilogue

The sun shone unusually bright that morning as Stan tossed in his bed. He twisted and turned in his sleep, trying to avoid the merciless sun, but it would not relent.

"Few more minutes," he mumbled quietly, though, unsurprisingly, it did not listen. It shone all the brighter, finding any possible way of breaching the curtains, finding any method of getting the boy to wake up….

In the end he gave up, however, and with an irritated sigh he picked himself off the bed. It was the last day of school, the last day he'd have to get up early—at least, for a long while. Even if the students were to be at school at a later time, purely because of the day being the last one of the school year, Stan felt it still was much too early to be waking up.

The door opened suddenly, but Stan's tired eyes failed to show him quickly enough who the intruder was. "Wake up, turd," Shelley spat, and before slamming the door shut once more, Stan felt a French-English dictionary connect with his head.

It took a good minute to recover from the blow, but once he was certain his left eye hadn't been blinded, he trudged his half-naked self into his closet. Blue windbreaker, red shirt, navy jeans… that seemed right. He pulled out the articles of clothing, tossing them onto his bed when he had found them, and he threw the now empty hangers hastily on his closet floor.

His mind went over the things he needed for the day. He'd have to pick up Kenny and Kyle before going to school, as always…. He never exactly told the blonde that he was still offering rides out of pity, not wanting him to walk all that distance… yet it really didn't matter, for it was pretty much an engraved habit, now.

As for bringing Kyle to school…. The boy had finally gotten himself his own car, but still they chose to carpool together. But neither boy was complaining; at least once a week Stan would drive Kyle away to some remote location in South Park (though any location qualified for that 'remote location,' really), where the two would spend hours with each other, just talking about their day, discussing philosophies and theories, planning the future ahead of them—just being themselves, living life they thought it was meant to be lived.

…of course, they did all this while enjoying secluded moments lost with each other, taking time to explore each other, letting their curious desires burn rampant, allowing themselves to—

Another book at the back of his head told him that he was wasting too much time.

Where had he left off before trailing away… ah, yes!—what he needed to do that day. He exited his closet, still half-naked, and as he dragged himself to his book bag he began to fill it with all the textbooks he needed to return. After that… well, he wasn't planning on taking Kyle anywhere after school that day… at least, not immediately afterward. So he'd have time to go home from school and rethink his agenda, then….

"Stan!" his mother called from downstairs; "Stan, don't forget, we're going to the pool with the Broflovski family this afternoon!"

Stan blinked. Pool?

Oh, right. That pool. The one all the first graders pee in.

In a way then, Stan was taking Kyle somewhere after school that day.

He sighed, setting his filled backpack on his bed, and then without any more ado, he snatched a towel and hurried to the bathroom. His shower had lasted a good five minutes, and he ignored his screeching mother as he returned to his bedroom, sopping wet. Chuckling at his mother's angry calls ("You're getting the carpet wet, Stan!"), Stan tossed his towel on his computer chair, letting the cool air of his room acquaint with his skin before covering himself with the clothes he had set earlier.

Now… it was time to depart.

"Bye, mom!" Stan called, still ignoring his mother. He gave a wave to Shelley, and although she was equipped and ready to chuck something else at her brother, she gave him her best forced smile.

Stan went to Kyle's house first. It was, again, out of habit, ever since he resolved to get the truth out of Kyle, so many months before…. Kenny didn't mind the change, obviously, even encouraging Stan's decision. And of course, he always claimed the backseat, which he claimed was the "best seat in the theater," when it came to "watching the hottest foreplay in man's existence."

Sometimes Stan wondered if Kenny thought much of his old (yet fake) relationship with Kyle.
Stan hoped not.

Less than five minutes passed before Stan arrived at Kyle's house. He turned off the car, stepped out of his car, and made his way to the door.

He barely placed a finger on the doorbell when the door swung open.

"Hello… Stan." Ike smiled at him, a glint in his eye, before letting Stan inside the house. "Kyle's getting ready, still. Apparently you're not the only one who's running late." Ike pointed at his watch, causing Stan to turn a deep red.

"Last day of school," reasoned Stan, shrugging sheepishly. "It makes you do things like waking up late."

"I see." Ike brought his hand to his mouth and gave a cough, immediately resting against the wall when he had finished. "I'm sick on the last day of school. Aren't I lucky."

Stan nodded. "Lucky bastard, indeed."

"What was that?" Ike said, frowning. "Didn't quite catch that. For a second I thought you had said a cuss word…."

"Stan!" and as Stan turned to the stairs he caught a fleeting glimpse of a flying Kyle, right before it made its crash. Stan fell to the ground, crumbled by Kyle's weight, and as he struggled to get up Kyle kept in place. "Happy End-of-the-School-Year Day!"

"Happy… day to you, too, dude…." Stan groaned, resting his head against their floor. "Kyle, can you get off? It hurts, and we still gotta pick up Kenny."

When Kyle refused, Ike chose to intervene. "Mom might think you're having sex in the foyer."

That had gotten him off.

"Well then," said Stan, giving Ike some sort of salute. "I'll be seeing you later, then?"—and then they were out the door.

"I wouldn't have minded," muttered Kyle, catching Stan's eye as they walked to his car. "Having sex in the foyer, I mean. I don't think I would've minded."

"My, my," said Stan, shaking a warning finger as he unlocked the car. "You're being a bad influence on Ike, aren't you?—besides, I thought Kyle Broflovski was my boyfriend, not Kenny McKormick.

Kyle snorted and said nothing as he climbed into the car. The silence remained as Stan took off, their fatigue heavily influencing their ability to carry a conversation, and it was only when they passed Stan's house when Kyle found the energy to talk. "I mean, I'm sure if mom saw us…"—he made a dirty gesture with his hands—"…in the foyer, she'd only get angry because we're too young. But dad… well…."

Stan sighed; it had been two weeks ago since Stan's mother had found the two in Stan's car, practically naked (underwear was next to nothing in Mrs. Marsh's book), hands all over each other, both drenched in a mixture of the two's sweat…. She had told Kyle's parents, and since then their relationship was well-known to the family—though of course, it was only the parents who had been previously left in the dark.

However, while both moms saw this as perfectly normal, their dads weren't so keen on the idea. With much persuasion (and with much alcohol) Mr. Marsh had been able to accept them… for now; however, Gerald Broflovski had been an entirely different case, going off on Kyle in a way that shocked all three of his family members.

"Luckily your mom's such an advocate," Stan said, and Kyle couldn't help but to agree; his parents had gotten into a two-day fight about the issue, and Mrs. Broflovski had attained a retort on equal human rights for all…except Canadians, because they poisoned those rights given to American children by cussing and farting and….

"I'll be right back," said Stan, who stifled a yawn as he went to fetch Kenny. Kyle nodded, allowing himself to sit silently in Stan's absence, though it wasn't very long at all when he was woken up by Kenny's loud voice.

"Still sleepy?" he greeted, giving the boy a friendly shake from behind.

Kyle only responded with a grumble.

"Don't bother him," said Stan, climbing back into his own seat.

"Why?" asked Kenny, a challenging tone in his voice. "You want to save his energy for what you've got planned later tonight?"

Stan shook his head. "Kenny, how many times do I have to keep telling you? We aren't doing anything… really. Besides, Kyle's birthday was a week ago; if anything, we did it then."

"But we didn't," added Kyle, who quickly dropped out of the conversation once more.

Kenny scoffed. "Right… and that incident in your car about two weeks ago? That was you "not doing anything," huh?"

"How'd you find out about that?"

"Oh you know… I have my ways."

Kyle feigned a cough, which distinctly sounded like "Ike."

Stan shrugged, making a turn onto a road with many trees. Somehow one of these trees could provide him a distraction…. "You excited about summer, Ken?"

"Of course," he replied enthusiastically. "Summer's my favorite season of the month!"

"Wonder why," muttered Kyle, snoring immediately afterward. Of course, both boys knew by now that he wasn't really sleeping, or even trying to, for that matter….

Kenny sighed. "It'd be much better if Tweek liked the summer, but he doesn't."

"He doesn't?" Stan asked curiously. "What's his favorite month, then?"

"Winter, of course… so the Underpants gnomes can freeze to death."

XX

"Do you have a lucky charm?"

"No."

"Can I be your lucky charm, then?"

"No." Kenny sighed, and then pouted, all before returning to his own bowl of Lucky Charms. The three were in the cafeteria, eating the breakfasts they had purchased, and they (they being Kyle, Stan, Kenny, Cartman, and Tweek) were seated at the table, talking about pointless stuff. It seemed even the cafeteria ladies were psyched for the last day of school, having only served cold food for breakfast that morning.

Kenny turned to Tweek. "Tweek?"

"Ack!"

"Tweek, can I have your nuts?" Kenny asked, causing Stan to choke on his milk. "I'll give you my lucky charm, if you want it."

Tweek blinked, looking at his cereal, and perhaps even lower—though no one could tell. "S-sure… stop freaking me out like that, though."

Kenny nodded, smiling apologetically, and as he was passed the cereal a devious smirk was plastered on his face. "Thanks, dude."

"I don't think he realizes what he's done," Kyle said sadly, turning to Stan. "Tweek's pretty much just sold his soul to him."

"What'd you mean?"

"Tweek just gave Kenny permission to flirt with him without realizing it." Kyle sighed, looking at his own bowl of frosted flakes. "I wonder if he ever catches any of his innuendos like we do."

"You want me to make more innuendos from now on?" Stan asked, raising his eyebrow.

"If you mean talking dirty, then sure. But honestly, Stan, I think you should leave the job to Kenny."

"What?" Stan asked, looking dejected. "You don't think I could make a good innuendo?"

"No."

"Well, I can."

"Prove it."

Stan blinked. "Well, uh… if you gave me something to, err, make an innuendo about, I could, uh…."

Kyle looked at him with an amused expression. "That's what I thought," he snapped, sticking his tongue out at Stan.

He caught it with his finger, refusing to let it go.

"Cat got your tongue?" Stan asked, not catching Kenny's disappointed look—indeed, that had been quite the overused phrase. "Get used to the feeling; after tonight I'm sure you'll be at a loss for words."

Kenny smirked; Kyle laughed nervously, to the best of his ability. "Stan—"

"Get used to doing that too, Kyle; I'm sure you'll find yourself panting my name a lot, later."

The disappointment on Kenny's face had vanished; in fact, the blonde was clearly impressed, nodding his head in approval as Tweek choked on one of Kenny's lucky charms. "Three times's the charm, Stan. One more time, and I'm sure Kyle will be convinced."

"Let go of my tongue!" Kyle tried to say… except it came out like "Leh-go-ah-mah-hung."

Stan let go. "Happy?"

"Much." Kyle leaned into Stan, closing his eyes contently. "By the way I changed my mind. I think you can pull off talking dirty when you want to."

"Like tonight!" Kenny exclaimed, a grin on his face. "God, I wish I could afford a video camera."

Stan tried explaining to Kenny that they were not going to have sex that night, but Kenny seemed unconvinced. "You just said so!"

"I was just saying that to prove my point," Stan said defensively. "And by the looks of it, I think I've proven my point."

But Kenny scoffed, shaking his head disbelievingly. "Whatever, dude, I'm still gonna be at your window tonight to record—" but he never finished his sentence. A loud slam of a book interrupted him from across the table, and as all eyes (except Tweek's, too busy examining his cereal for lucky charms that might cause him to choke again) turned they found Cartman with an enraged expression.

"You guys are all gay," he said, shaking his head. "Not that I mind, because Big Gay Al's gay, and he's pretteh cool. But seriouslah, do you ever talk about anything other than screwin' each others' brains out?" He glared particularly at Kyle before collecting his things and stampeding away.

They could all hear his voice before it faded away: "Screw you guys, I'm going home…."

There was a moment of silence at the table, save Tweek's spasms, and it was only after a minute when Kenny dared to talk. "…Tweek, your nuts are really sweet, you know that? Hard… but sweet."

XX

"Do you think he'll ever finish?"
"I doubt it. Kenny's got endurance, dude."

Stan began to hum as they peered out the window, waiting for Kenny to get into the car. "You think if we told him we had candy, you think he'd get in faster?"

Kyle shrugged. "It worked one time, didn't it?"—and Stan nodded, his mind relapsing to that memory. That had been the night Kenny had encouraged Stan to chase after Kyle, the night things started getting better, the night Kenny had given him the balls to ask Kyle out (quite literally).

Stan frowned; where would their relationship be without Kenny? The blonde had helped Kyle, and then Stan… Stan began to fear where the two would be now if it hadn't been for Kenny's help.

He voiced this thought to Kyle, and he shrugged. "You'd probably be encouraging Kenny and me to go on another date… that, or to actually go ahead and do it already."

"I would not be saying that!" protested Stan. "Well, the date thing, maybe. But I doubt I'd ever encourage two people to have sex, dude!"

"…you're right, I'm thinking of Kenny… since he is doing that to us, now." Stan nodded, looking out Kyle's window once more. "What's he doing, you know?"

"Can't say," muttered Kyle, taking a look for himself. "He's talking to Tweek—"

"—I know that much, dude."

"…I suppose he's flirting with him, again." Stan laughed at this; Kenny had been flirting with the clueless Tweek for almost a month and a half now, yet with each attempt he made he only seemed to become more unsuccessful. "I kinda feel bad for him, though."

"Because you left him?" suggested Stan, a slightly bitter tone in his voice. "Kyle, you said—"

"No," cut off Kyle, looking rather smug. "Because I think Kenny's really taking a liking for him, but Tweek doesn't have a clue what Kenny's trying to do."

"Oh." Stan turned red once more. Then, as he prepared for his next question, he turned even redder. "You never… did it… with Ken, did you?"

Kyle raised an eyebrow. "No, Stan, I didn't. That's the seventh time you've asked me."

"Oh… right." Stan looked over Kyle's shoulder once more. "If he doesn't come here in ten seconds…."

But thankfully he did come, a wide grin plastered on his face as he jumped into the backseat.

"Seatbelt," Stan said sternly, "and then you can tell us the good news." He challenged Kenny's pouting look; the blonde had been so used to death he barely regarded something as simple as a seatbelt. Yet it seemed Stan would not back down unless he complied, so, with a sigh, he reached behind him for the belt.

"I did it!" Kenny said the second the seatbelt had made a click. "I finally did it, dudes!"

"Did what?" asked Stan, though he seemed to already know the answer.

"Tweek said yes to a date!"

Kyle looked shell-shocked. "He… he did?" he stuttered, looking at Kenny disbelievingly. "What the hell did you do to get him to say yes?"

Kenny snickered, a sly grin on his face. "Well… I didn't exactly mention the word 'date,' see. I told him if he wanted to catch a cup of coffee later tonight, and he said yes."

"So you tricked him into a date?" Kyle clarified, and Kenny gave a shrug.

"At first he insisted that they were impossible to catch, and that coffee cups could run away very fast if people tried catching them." Kenny snorted, then continued. "But in the end he got what I meant. And he said yes, did I say that part?"

"You did," said Stan, who had just remembered he needed to get home. He stuck the key in the ignition and took off from the parking lot, keeping only an ear in the conversation behind him.

"Well, congratulations," Kyle said weakly, unsure of whether to scold at Kenny for tricking someone to go out with him, or to remind him that Kenny wouldn't be getting any during that 'date.'

He chose the latter.

Kenny smiled. "It'll work out, I promise you, Kyle. Besides… I'm Kenny. Everyone wants me."

Much to Stan's relief, no one had made a comment after Kenny's claim. Sure, hearing Kyle go against Kenny would've been more satisfying, but in that scenario Kenny could possibly wind him up into another sick, perverted situation…. No, this way would be much better.

"Enjoy your date tonight," Kenny said once they had arrived at his house.

"How'd you know about that?" Stan and Kyle both asked at the same time.

That answer was easy to answer, though, and all three knew it.

"Let's see," began Kenny, and he did an impersonation of Stan. "God, Kenny, I'm running out of ideas to take him! Help me, Ken, please, please, please, please, I don't wanna bring him to a place he'll hate!" Then, turning to Kyle, Kenny changed his mimicking voice. "Dude, Kenny, Stan's taking me to the arcade! The arcade! Doesn't it bring so many memories? We're going tomorrow, you know, on the last day of school. Ken, I'm so—"

"We got the point," Kyle muttered bitterly, looking at his feet, his cheeks flushed. Kenny smirked, waved a goodbye, and entered his… house.

"I thought that was a terrible impression of me," Stan said with a laugh as he pulled out of the car. "God, I sounded desperate… and I don't think I said 'please' that many times in a row."

Kyle had other things on his mind, however. "You really say that, though?"

"Say what?"

"That you didn't want to take me to a place I hate." Stan shrugged, nodding his head only slightly as he continued looking onto the road. "I don't care if we go somewhere you like, dude. It's not always me, you know."

Stan shrugged again. "Anything you like is something I like, too."

Kyle sighed and relented; there would be no convincing him otherwise.

The trip to Kyle's house had been a silent one. Occasionally Stan let go of the wheel, usually on the straight paths, and inched his free hand toward the space between them, stroking the back of Kyle's hand softly, gently…. Yet both lips were pursed; the excitement of school's end hadn't exactly settled in, yet.

Kyle stepped out of his car in silence; Stan turned off the engine and got out of the car, too.

"I'll be seeing you in fifteen minutes, more or less," said Stan, placing an arm around Kyle. "God, we're pretty much signing ourselves up to bathe in kindergarten pee… sick."

Kyle laughed. "Well," he said as they reached the door, "I'll see you later, then."

He gave a small kiss on the cheek and left. Stan remained motionless for two seconds, letting the feeling linger, before heading home.

XX

Sitting in the backseat was something Stan hadn't done in a while, and as he stared out the window he realized how much he had hated it. Sure, if he had been the only member in his family, he might've enjoyed it a little more, but he wasn't; instead, he had to share the space with Shelley, who seemed equally upset with having to travel in the family car.

"Try and have fun, the both of you," snapped Mrs. Marsh, turning around from her envied shotgun position. "Those glares of yours could kill someone, you know."

Both ignored her, allowing the music of the car drown her voice—and that had been another thing Stan disliked. He had no control of the music; he was stuck listening to his parents' music, which was all oldies music (of course). Perhaps the first time he wouldn't have minded, but… he had heard their music so many times it was sickening.

…on that note, listening to his own music thousands of times wouldn't make it sickening. Perhaps it was just opinion.

"Here we are," announced Mr. Marsh, and their car came to a halt. "The Broflovski family should already be inside, so we'd better get going."

"Don't forget your towel!" his mother called, and Stan looked around the car. Sadly, he saw no one except Shelley and his mother, so he let it go. He could've sworn someone else was there, though…. "I swear, Stan, if you leave your towel in the car again—"

"I was ten, mom." But Mrs. Marsh only continued to bicker about it on the way inside the pool. The particular location had both an indoor and an outdoor pool, but the two families had preferred the former. Incidentally it was unusually chilly for a June afternoon, so Stan didn't mind at all.

Stan was more than thrilled to see Kyle's beaming face, and as he hurried away from his mother's ongoing rant, he swept his boyfriend right off his feet.

…tackled, more like.

Mr. Broflovski shook his head disapprovingly before turning to the Marsh family. "Glad you could make it."

"…like old times, Gerald."

Mrs. Marsh shook her head. "So where're the changing rooms?" she asked, and Mrs. Broflovski immediately led her and Shelley away from the rest of the group.

Mr. Broflovski looked uneasily between Stan and Kyle. "Stan, why don't you go change with your dad? The boys and I will catch up with you later."

"Why can't he change at the same time?" challenged Stan. He knew Mr. Broflovski motives, seemingly; he was probably afraid the two would… bang things other than locker doors.

However, he was mistaken. "We've already changed, Stan." And true enough, he looked at the Broflovski, already half naked and attired with swimming shorts.

Stan turned red. "Oh… then I guess I'll be off now." Then, as he approached Kyle, he added in a whisper: "No wonder I felt some abs when I tackled you…."

Stan had finished getting changed twice as fast as his father, for obvious reasons. Mr. Marsh had called to Stan, asking him to wait, but he gave up once he realized Stan would be too eager to listen. Still, he sighed, putting his own clothes into his locker, all before exiting.

Stan and Kyle were already in the pool by then, but at least Ike was with them.

"Oh no Ike!" Kyle called with a foolish grin. "Watch out for the kindergarten pee!"

"I don't see it," Ike said frankly, looking around. "Is it yellow?"

"Clear pee!" Stan piped in, swimming away. "God, it burns!"

"…that's probably just the chlorine, Stan." Stan pouted at Ike's sourness, and Ike, in retaliation, splashed both Stan and Kyle with a kick of his feet. "Why, you little…."

Their splash fight thus commenced, splashing pool water, chlorine, yellow pee, and clear pee at each other, the disgusting elements barely crossing their mind as they swam away and attacked, dove under the surface and struck on it, getting the lifeguard pissed off….

"Sorry ma'am," Ike said innocently, which seemed satisfactory enough for the brunette lifeguard. "We won't do it again."

Once she had left, Ike turned to his brother. "I just saved your ass."

"Yeah right," Kyle retorted, clinging onto Stan's arm. "And what exactly can a lifeguard do, anyway? That whistle of hers can't kill… can it?"

"Probably not," Stan muttered, "but I'd be careful in case."

Ike snorted before turning his back, running off before ultimately diving into the pull. "Sorry!" Ike apologized to the lifeguard, and she turned her head yet again.

"Salutary neglect," Kyle muttered under his breath.

"What?"

"That lifeguard… it's like she's practicing salutary neglect. She's not enforcing any of the rules on Ike; she just keeps turning her head away…."

"Dork," concluded Stan, and with that he pushed Kyle into the water once more, diving in after him.

They had only been in the pool for thirty minutes, but it seemed as if they had been there much longer. Not that they were complaining, though, as the splashing fights and miniature races were quite enough. They had even opted to aid Ike in reenacting World War II in the pool (the Pacific Theater), Kyle thoroughly enjoying creaming Stan's 'army' as his nation was slowly claiming victory.

"The Japanese surrender!" Stan called at last, and Kyle climbed off Stan's back.

That had been when Mr. Broflovski called Kyle out of the pool. Kyle looked upon his father sourly, asking if they were leaving, but when his father admitted he only wanted to talk, Kyle reluctantly left.

Stan turned to Ike. "I didn't get him in trouble, did I?"

"Probably not," Ike replied. "Dad gives him talks all the time, so he's used to it by now."

"About what?"

Ike hesitated. "Well… about you, actually." Stan looked at Ike blankly, almost forgetting to tread the water. Once he remembered he was still in the deep end, he asked Ike to clarify. "I'm sure you remember that dad's… not so keen with your relationship."

"Why?" Stan asked, both angry and curious. "I mean, your mom accepts us. Your mom, of all people! She didn't create an MAG organization, for crying out loud!"

"You don't get it, though," Ike reasoned, though it took a while before Ike could properly get Stan's attention again. "Listen, Stan, my mom—listen!—my mom doesn't have a last name she wants to pass on! That's why she isn't pissed like my dad is."

Stan calmed down and blinked. "…his last name?"

"Sure, Stan, you've never heard of anything like that before? Dad wants someone to continue his family's 'legacy,' someone who'll pass down the Broflovski family. As far as truth goes, Kyle's his only son. I'm just adopted."

"But when you marry, you'll have the Broflovski name too, won't you?"

Ike shrugs. "It's not the same, I guess. Besides, hypothetically, if I turned gay—which I won't—but if I did, I'm sure dad would be even angrier… having to deal with both Kyle and myself."

Stan sighed. "I guess, dude…. I still don't really—"

Kyle returned.

"Hey, dude!" Stan said with a smile, wrapping his arms around their new guest.

Kyle smiled. "Things will be better now, Stan. Don't worry."

XX

"…no dinner then?"

"I'm fine… thanks." Stan smiled sheepishly at his sister, who was busy setting the plates on the dining table. He was only watching her, as his hands were occupied with tying a red tie around his neck. "Shelley, can you help me with this?"

He recoiled for a moment, noticing the plates still in her hand, afraid she might toss one at him—but she merely set them down and took the tie from his hands.

"What's up with guys nowadays," Shelley muttered under his breath, wrapping it around his neck. "They wear ties more than girls do, yet they never seem to know how to put them on themselves."

Stan was tempted to make a smart comeback, such as "but I never wear them anyway, so there's my excuse," but he was too scared to do it—after all, a wrong move and Shelley could strangle him.

But perhaps he was antagonizing his sister too much. After all, she did assist in giving Stan the thing that had made his life so blissful. He watched her serenely as she fitted the tie, and as she tightened it Stan grew scared she might actually tighten it too much….

And then she stepped away, nodding at her work.

"I thought you were going to the arcade, only?" Shelley asked, frowning. "You have to dress up for that?"

Stan turned red. "How'd you find out about that?"

Shelley smiled. "On one of my midnight trips to the kitchen. I passed by your room—you talk loud, not to mention to no one in particular." She paused, mimicking her brother's voice. "Oh, god, what am I gonna do at the arcades! He's probably going to find it so boring!"

"Shut up," whined Stan, turning away. "I do not sound like that." He paused, avoiding the victorious smile on Shelley's face. "And obviously then, you weren't eavesdropping when I said I was gonna take Kyle to a surprise dinner."

Shelley's face lit up. "Ah… I see. That explains the getup, then." She patted her brother on the shoulder. "Have fun, then."

"Thanks." And with that, he was out the door.

The drive to Kyle's house was silent, yet that particular silence was much too noisy for him. It was like he could feel his heart beating—but why was that so? It wasn't like this was to be their first date… so, why was he so nervous?

He arrived at Kyle's house without difficulty. He inhaled a deep breath, stepped out of his car, and walked to the door.

The door opened before he could ring the doorbell—as always was the case.

"How do you always know I'm here?" Stan asked incredulously, gaping at the rather amused Ike.

"You haven't figured it out yet?" Ike replied, looking rather pleased.

"No, dude!"

Ike smirked. "I'll let you figure it out for yourself, then."

"Stan!" Kyle called out from upstairs, and he immediately took Stan into a suffocating hug. "I like what I'm seeing… but what's with the shirt?"

"What, this?" and Stan looked at the red tie and blue dress shirt he had on. "Well… I figured I'd dress for the occasion."

"It's only the arcade," Kyle replied, and he led Stan out the door. "Later, Ike, hope you feel better!"

"Ike was sick?" Stan asked, frowning as the two heard the front door shut behind them. "Oh, that's right…."

"He insisted he was well enough to go swimming, though," said Kyle. "It took a while to convince my mom, but in the end he was allowed to go. But now he's feeling a little queasy again, though I don't know if he's faking it, or what."

"Must've been the kindergarten pee," said Stan, and Kyle laughed. "After you," he added, opening the door for Kyle.

Two minutes and the two were off.

"Out of curiosity," began Stan, "how does Ike know I'm at your door?"

"What'd you mean?"

"Like… he always opens the door before I can ring the doorbell. It's like he can see through the door or something."

Kyle laughed. "Well… not exactly looking through the door, dude. But he is keeping a look out for you through the living room window."

"Really?" Stan asked, and Kyle nodded.

"He keeps a lookout for me, especially when I'm not ready yet. He likes looking through that window, though… sorta how he chanced upon us that one night…."

"First kiss," Stan mumbled. He turned red, but it went unnoticed.

"Uh, Stan…?"

"Hm?"

"The arcade's that way." Kyle pointed behind them, but Stan seemed not to notice. "Where're we going? Stan?"

"Just somewhere…."

Stan left it at that.

XX

"I can't believe you," Kyle said with a laugh, shaking his head as he exited the restaurant. "I assume that's why you dressed up?"

Stan nodded. "I was afraid I'd have to ruin the surprise, in case you didn't dress up very well… but I figured your black polo was good enough."

Kyle smiled, leaning into Stan as they walked away. The atmosphere had been magnificent, the food delicious…. It had been quite the night, and Stan was happy that Kyle looked quite satisfied.

"I feel bloated though," Kyle said sadly, patting his stomach. "Keep taking me to dates like me and you're gonna be dating Cartman."

"You'll work it out," said Stan, opening the door on Kyle's side once more. "And now, to the cafeteria!"

"Cafeteria?" Kyle asked with a frown, stepping inside the car.

"Er… arcade… sorry. I've got no idea where I got cafeteria from." Kyle laughed, leaning against the window as Stan started the car.

"Stan…?" The boy glanced at Kyle, who was still leaning against the window.

"Yeah, dude?"

"You think we'll… you think we'll have a future?"

Stan blinked, making a turn on the road. "Future?"

"Yeah, like… is there a future for us?"

"Of course!" Stan said, taking another glance at Kyle. "I mean, if you're willing to try, then of course we can have one… but why are you asking me?"

Kyle sighed, still staring out the window. "Just thinking about what my dad was saying. That's all." He sighed. "I mean, I convinced my dad that what I'm doing won't change, that I'll never leave you just because you're not a girl. But… I feel like I'm disappointing him.

"I told them that being with Stan makes me happy, and that he should be happy that I'm happy, like most fathers. Yet I felt bad, you know? I understand his reasoning, but… it's what I want. But I've ruined his dreams, too."

He looked to Stan, trying to find an answer, but Stan had none. Everything the boy had would make him sound self-centered; supporting Kyle's decision would benefit him, and somehow Stan knew Kyle was trying to sympathize with his father.

"Things will work out," said Stan slowly, heaving a sigh. "I understand what you're trying to say, and I get it. But it's just… seeing you unhappy like this… especially now."

"Sorry…."

Stan tried to smile. "You think just for tonight, you could forget about it for a while? Just relax and smile like you usually do… for me?"

And just like that, with the addition of the last two words, Kyle's face twisted into a smile. Stan smiled, relieved, yet he didn't know what had caused Kyle to comply with his request. He didn't care either, not at that moment—he was just happy to see Kyle's smile.

"I think that's a change I can live with," Kyle said quietly. "For once, we're doing something because of you."

Stan said nothing.
The moments they'd share from here on out would surely do the talking for him.

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-Zak