Stan watched Wendy leave his house at about eleven at night. She looked perfect, her black hair perfectly straight and her clothes looked freshly ironed and not a single thing was out of place.

And yet his clothes were rumpled, his hair disheveled, his bed was messed up beyond recognition, and he figured she smelled like perfume while he smelled like sex.

She turned and waved to him at the end of the block, and when he waved back, she continued on her way.

Immediately he pulled out his cell phone and text Kyle, whom he hadn't spoken to since Kyle had walked out of his house a couple hours earlier.

'Kyle, I'm really sorry' he sent.

He then proceeded to clean up his room while waiting for Kyle to text back, but no reply ever came.

He checked his phone what seemed like every five minutes, but Kyle never text him back.

Stan finally gave up and called his friend, but Kyle didn't pick up the phone.

Stan felt sick to his stomach, Kyle always answered his texts and phone calls, was Kyle okay? He needed to know, so he decided to walk to Kyle's house to see his friend in person.

Ike answered the door when Stan knocked, and peered at the older boy with an angry face.

"Kyle doesn't want to see you," he said, trying to close the door, but Stan pushed it back open.

"Ike, please," Stan begged, "You know me, let me talk to Kyle,"

"I know you fucked him over," Ike glared at Stan, and tried to shut the door once more.

"No Ike!" Stan said forcefully, pushing the door open and running up the stairs.

"Stan!" Ike yelled, "KYLE! HE'S HERE!"

Stan heard a door slam and lock; he could only figure it was Kyle's.

"Kyle, please open the door," Stan sighed, resting his head on Kyle's door.

There was no reply.

"Kyle, you know that I can get into your room…" Stan sighed, knocking and jiggling the doorknob.

Kyle remained silent.

Stan groaned and pulled a bobby pin out from his jacket pocket, stuck it in the doorknob and twisted.

Kyle flinched as he heard the lock pop and quickly ran into his bathroom, locking that door behind him as well.

Stan entered the room and saw a flash of red hair and then the bathroom door was shut, and that door locked as well.

"Ky-yle" Stan taunted, closing Kyle's bedroom door and locking it behind him.

Kyle was really starting to bug him with this vow of silence thing.

Stan jimmy-rigged the bathroom door, and was surprised to find Kyle staring at him, looking terrified and backed up against the sink.

"Get out," Kyle said, his words sounding firm, but his eyes showed his possible submission.

Stan put his hands on the bathroom mirror and leaned over Kyle, who was right in the middle of both his arms.

"Do you really want me to leave?" Stan asked, leaning down and kissing Kyle's neck, making the Jewish boy moan and twist his fingers into Stan's black hair, eventually tilting his head up to meet the taller boy's lips.

Stan kicked the bathroom door shut and grabbed Kyle's waist, moving their hips together and grunting at the friction. Kyle was writhing with pleasure as Stan ravished his neck and mouth.

"S-stop," Kyle panted, when Stan began to rub him through his jeans.

"Why?" Stan smiled, nibbling on Kyle's ear, knowing it was a weak spot for him.

"We went over this today! Didn't you hear a damn word I said?" Kyle asked, pushing him away and glaring at him.

"Yes," Stan sighed, stepping away from the pissed off Kyle and crossing his arms over his chest.

"I said I was sick and tired of being the person you cheat with Wendy on! Damn it I deserve some respect and I am getting none from you!" Kyle said, poking Stan in the chest for good measure.

"Well what do you want Kyle?" Stan groaned, fixing his jacket which had been crumpled during their make out session.

"I want… well to be honest Stan; I don't want anything from you. Before I wanted you to choose me over Wendy, but you were already faced with that question, and you chose her, so now I really just want you to leave, and not bother me ever again," Kyle said, fixing his messed up hair and staring at Stan with a look Stan didn't recognize in Kyle's emerald green eyes.

Nothing.

Normally Stan saw anger, love, desire, in their darker times sadness and despair, but this was a look someone would give a passer-by in the mall or something.

"Kyle," Stan said, genuinely worried about his relationship with his best friend, "I love you,"

"I love you too Stan, I probably always will," Kyle said with a sad smile. "But you chose Wendy, and I'm through with this,"

Stan gaped as Kyle exited the bathroom and sat down at his desk and began studying.

"You should probably leave now," Kyle said, not even bothering to look at his former best friend.

"…And I'll see you tomorrow at school right?" Stan asked.

"You'll probably see me sure," Kyle shrugged, "But Stan, we're not friends, we're not anything anymore," he clarified.

"And how do I change that?" Stan asked.

"If you honestly want to, you'll figure it out," Kyle mused.

Stan left Kyle's house racking his brain for a way to make Kyle his friend, lover, whatever again.

"I have to prove to him he's more important than Wendy," Stan said aloud, but instead of feeling elated at the idea, his stomach dropped instead.

Maybe he didn't want Kyle to be more important than Wendy…

Hey there, sorry about the last one, I know it sucked; bad. But hopefully I'll get better at this, I don't really like writing stories, as you can tell I love oneshots.

This one is for lillie andrews, who liked the first story Wishful Thinking, and wanted one that was more mature.

I offered a oneshot, but she likes stories, so here ya go =]