IS THIS REAL LIFE?

Chapter Thirteen

KYLE'S P.O.V

Considering there were five of us, all male, living in one house, especially since of of us was Cartman, I shouldn't have been surprised that I had to go get groceries so often. But I was.

I came back laden with bags, and it was whilst I was putting it all away that someone grabbed my forearm, making me jump and drop several tins of food.

"Holy shit!" I yelled, turning to find Kenny, still gripping my arm and with a somber look on his face.

"Sorry dude. Can we talk?"

He looked so sad that I just had to follow him back to his bedroom, where he shut the door. Butters was in Cartman's room helping him edit the movie he'd made for Sarah, so we were alone for the time being.

"What's up Ken?" I asked, plopping down on the bed.

"I need to ask you about something." He said simply, throwing off his shirt.

"I figured."

Kenny fidgeted for a moment before blurting. "When did you know you were gay?"

I spluttered, lost for words. Eventually I managed a very Mom-esqe "What what WHAT?"

Holding up his palms, Kenny answered defensively "No offence man, I'm just wondering!"

"I'm not...What makes you think I'm..." Rather than babble like an idiot, I breathed deeply and forced myself to remain calm. "I'm not gay."

Kenny smirked. "Oh, c'mon dude. I've read your diaries."

I blushed. To be frank, I didn't really care. It wasn't Kenny I was worried about. "Okay. You do know that's a violation of my privacy?"

"Who's to say I care?" He laughed.

I laughed too, and then sat back to think. I was still a little embarrassed. My face was hot and a thin sheen of sweat was forming on my person.

"I guess I knew when I didn't stop enjoying my dreams." I answered. Kenny nodded, urging me to go on.

"At first I thought it was a phase. Then when they didn't go away, I just sort of accepted it. Then it came to me that I've never been ineterested in girls and I think some guys are hot. And I realized."

Kenny continued to nod at me dumbly.

"Why do you want to know anyway?" I asked, suddenly suspicious. If he told Stan, I'd-

"Can you keep a secret?" Kenny asked, grinning and leaning in like a little kid.

"Fuck, dude, I have to!" I laughed, but I leaned in too.

"I think I like Butters." Kenny told me, without even a hint of shame in his voice, nor red on his cheeks. He was guilt-free, embarrassment-free, and I admired him in that moment.

"You...You do?" I asked, trying to picture a guy like Kenny having the patience and capacity to deal with an innocent like Butters. I couldn't quite get it right, but if anyone could try such a thing I knew Kenny could. Kenny made mistakes sometimes but he always worked to put them right.

"Uh-huh." Kenny leaned back on his pillows, arms crossed behind his head.

"How do you figure?" I pushed.

"Well, just little things. He makes me feel warm and fuzzy. The way he talks makes me smile. When he's happy, I'm happy. Oh, and I jacked off to a porny story about us the other night."

Once again, Kenny made me splutter. I had no idea what to say to this last sentance, but I did know that something within it had caught my attention, and it was not the thought of Kenny masturbating.

"Porny story?" I asked eventually. "About you and Butters?"

"Oh yeah." Kenny sighed non-chalantly. "There's a whole website full of them. They've paired us all. You and Stan, me and Butters, Eric and Butters, you and Eric...Other guys from back home too."

The cogs worked around in my mind. Suddenly the papers I found in my bed made a lot more sense. Cartman didn't know as much about computers as I did, but I was sure he was clever enough to open up internet history and see what Kenny and Butters had been up to.

"Is that why you and Butters have been on the internet so much lately?" I questioned. Kenny simply nodded.

After a few minutes of silence, during which I made my decision to visit this website of which Kenny spoke, and Kenny watched me think with an amused smile, Kenny broke the tension.

"So what do I do about Butters?"

"I don't think I'm the right person to ask about that." I answered honestly.

"Oh, right, cause of the whole I'm in love with my best friend but I can't tell him deal?"

"Exactly." I replied. "Kenny your room is fucking scorching, open a window."

It wasn't so much the heat as my embarrassment at Kenny knowing my secret that was making me so hot. But I was, by now, sweating profusely at my awkward situation, and I'm sure my face was a very unattractive shade of red.

Kenny watched me leave, but said nothing.

STAN'S P.O.V

Kyle's groceries had been left unpacked on the counter, his coat flung over the back of the chair but not hung up. He wasn't in the kitchen, living room or bathroom. Cartman's door was open, and inside he and Butters were playing with Cartman's movie camera.

Kyle was not in our room either.

I stood outside of Kenny's room door and listened.

"-open a window!" Came Kyle's voice. The doorknob turned and I moved away a little. Kyle charged out and ran straight into me, knocking us both to the floor.

"Oops! Sorry, Stan!" Kyle gasped, picking up first himself, then offering me his hand.

I stared at him. His hair was almost flat with sweat, his clothes hanging all wrong. His face was red, but there was a light in his eyes that stopped him from looking pathetic.

My eyes traveled from Kyle's face to the room he had just barged out of. Kenny lay in his bed, watching us with an amused smile spread over his face. His bottom half was covered by a thin cotton sheet, but I could see his chest.

His bare chest.

I slapped Kyle's hand away, pulling myself up and storming into my room.

It had finally hit. The realization. I knew now what I had been afraid to admit to knowing.

I was in love with my best friend.

Through the wall, I heard Kenny chuckle and murmur "What was that about?"

"I don't know." Kyle sounded a little concerned. I heard the bed creak, a few giggles. And that's when I knew two things.

I was in love with my best friend.

And I was going to kick some blonde ass.

Tomorrow though, because all I wanted to do was cry.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Ohh, poor Stan. He got completely the wrong end of the stick. Hopefully this will be cleared up next installment.