IS THIS REAL LIFE?

Chapter Sixteen

STAN'S P.O.V - THAT MORNING

I was confused, when I woke up, as to why Kyle was not warm against my stomach. I was just about to roll over and hug him close when I remembered the image of Kenny, lying naked in bed, smirking, while Kyle stood over me, hot and sweaty. That was enough to send me over the edge. But it was when Kyle rolled over and smiled at me, when Kyle greeted me with "Hello, handsome!" that I cracked.

"Don't talk to me." I told him. He looked hurt, and that made me angry. What right did he have to be hurt, because I was mad at him for breaking my heart?

"What's wrong, Stan?" Kyle asked, acting dumb. He stood, dragging the blanket with him. He was wearing a white shirt and boxer shorts, and just the sight of his exposed legs drove me wild. How dare Kenny-Kenny! The slut! The whore!-touch this delicate little frame? How dare he stain the beuty and innocence of it?

Before I did.

I couldn't bare to look at Kyle. When I did, the mental image of Kenny on top of him forced it's way into my brain. And it was too much.

"I think you know." I replied dryly.

Kyle shook his head, his gorgeous hair bouncing.

I beathed heavily, dropping my head into my hands. I had pulled on a shirt and some jeans with effort. I was going to try to have a normal day. But tears were forcing themselves out of my eyes, and I couldn't hold back the words that came out of my mouth next.

"I loved you, Kyle."

I had said them quietly, but I knew he'd heard me by the way he straightened suddenly.

"You...Love me?" He whispered, putting his hand to his face.

I growled in response. Suddenly, Kyle lurched towards me and hugged me tight. I flinched away from him as he cried "Oh Stan! This is so great!"

Now that...That made me mad.

"Oh yeah!" I growled sarcastically, disentangling myself from his arms. He fell to his knees on the floor. He seemed surprised by my tone, and stared up at me with those big green eyes. "Just great! What the fuck are you doing? Do you like toying with me?"

"Stan...Stan, what-?"

I didn't let him finish. "Just leave me alone!" I yelled, and pushed past him and through the door.

He seemed frozen, because he didn't follow me.

Kenny was already in the kitchen. I restrained myself. Technically, Kenny had no fault in this, but it felt like he did. He couldn't really love Kyle. Kenny didn't love anyone. He was just using him for a fuck, and he'd discard him when he was bored.

My hands shook as I grabbed a cereal bar from the cupboard. I didn't look at him. I heard a chair scrape along the floor, someone stand up.

Then he spoke.

"Whoa, what's up, Stan?" Kenny asked. He sounded sympathetic, like he was actually concerned. Well, Kenny, I wasn't falling for that, you little fuck. I knew how he liked to mess people around, and I figured he was probably loving how angry and hurt I was in that moment. But the fact that he dared talk to me...

"You!" I burst out, whipping around to point in his face. I hoped that would give him the message. "You fuck off! Before I hurt you!"

Kenny held his hands up, palms out. He backed away from me, and pride flared in my stomach to see the fear in his eyes. "Woah..." He said again. "What did I do?"

Now that, for me, was a little dissapointing. Couldn't he at leased admit to it?

Giving up, I just growled at him and shook my head.

"I'm leaving." I told them, turning and pulling my jacket off the hook on the door.

"S-s-s-Stan?" Came Butters' small, timid voice. Kenny was back to sitting, his arms around the little boy. What, was he gona devirginise Butters next? Then who? Me? Eric? The whole fucking city?

Butters continued. "You want to talk?"

As much as I would have loved to vent to someone right about then, Butters would not have been able to take my violent rage. So I declined.

As I left the kitchen, Kyle entered the living room. He looked at me with tear-filled eyes. I shook my head at him, and walked out.

KENNY'S P.O.V

Kyle dragged Eric with inhuman strength out of the kitchen. Eric pulled the door shut afterward. Filling the silence they left behind was the trill of Butters' mobile. I grabbed it before he could, and flipped it open.

"Hello...?"

"Heyy Kenny, it's me, we've got to talk, you got time?" Kenni burbled at the other end.

"Course I can talk!" I replied pleasantly. Anything to distract me from Stan's threat. What had I even done? I got up to go sit on the counter. Butters got up too, but he just stood awkwardly by his chair, still shaking. Stan's anger had really had an effect on him.

"Okay, I'm gona ask you something, and it might seem out of the blue but it's really not, so just answer me..." Kenni took a deep breath. "Do you like Butters?"

My mouth fell open. I thought she was going to ask me something like was I up for a threesome? Was I doing okay? Had I died recently?

But no, this was entirely unexpected. All I could do was stutter: "Do I...Do I what?"

"He loves you, Kenny, the boy loves you. And if you feel the same way you sure as hell better tell him, and soon." Kenni ordered.

I nodded my head. After all, wasn't my new motto not to be like Kyle?

"I do." I told her simply. "I will."

"Killer." She answered. "Call me after."

She hung up.

I turned, taking deep breaths. There was no-one but us in the kitchen, and now could be my only chance to tell Butters how I really felt.

His facial expression stopped me in my tracks. Butters moved to stand straight, and I noticed he had had his ear pressed to the door, listening in an un-Butters-like manner to Eric and Kyle's conversation on the other side.

"Butters, what's wrong?" I asked, starting to reach out to him.

"Y-you're in love with Kyle?" Butters asked. Other than the tears now flowing freely down his cheeks, his face was strangely devoid of emotion.

"What?" I asked, genuinely confused.

Butters shook his head. From the living room came the sound of a door slamming.

"I thought you loved me, Kenny." Butters gasped, struggling to breath through the silent sobs that were crippling his body.

Before I could reply, Butters walked out of the door. He didn't have to stop for anything. He always dressed before breakfast. Eric, sitting on one of the sofas, watched him leave too.

And the sight of him walking through that door was enough to make me realize that Butters was right. I loved him. I didn't just like him.

This was love...

"You're screwed." Eric said simply, looking over the back of the couch and into my eyes.

And for once, I knew he was right.