Throughout the duration of the whole song they refused to look at each other, but they also refused to be the first to pull away. It was almost like a game. Stan kept his head hovering above Kyle's shoulder (which was now a lot closer to his chest), and Kyle just turned his head to the left to look at the wall next to him. He could feel the soft fabric of Stan's t-shirt against his cheek, and he wasn't sure how that made him feel. Whatever it was, it was scaring him.

When the song finished, Kyle cleared his throat and slowly pulled away, still refusing to look at Stan. With a simple goodnight, he left the room and went to bed, leaving Stan alone in the middle of the living room.


Every day that week was the same; Kyle left the apartment before Stan had even woke up, and when he did, he hung around the apartment for a few hours before making his way in to the city via bus to hunt for jobs, and then they would both return home around the same time to sit and eat in awkward silence (sometimes making a forced conversation), watch TV, and then go to bed.

Whenever they did talk, Kyle made sure to complain about some PA at work who kept bothering him, resulting in his inevitable frustration and therefore the quality of his work to occasionally slip, which just stressed him out even more because he was desperately hoping for a permanent job at the end of all this and he didn't want anyone or anything to mess that up. Stan just suggested he complain to his boss to get her fired, but Kyle just huffed and that was it, conversation over.

Stan, meanwhile, was specifically looking for teaching assistant jobs in elementary schools, but he knew those would be hard to come by and even more difficult to get hired, what with the fierce competition, so he made sure to apply to as many jobs as possible.

He was surprised that he had managed to get an interview so quickly, and on Monday the next week he had a time slot for an interview with a photography company specifically for night clubs. He supposed it was easy to get the interview because it didn't require anyone professional, just someone who could take a photo and was friendly with people so they could make a sale.

He thought that job was morally wrong, taking advantage of drunk people to sell them key chains and prints - and it was never a good idea to be reminded how embarrassingly drunk you got - but a job was a job, and he knew he couldn't really turn it down.

Back at home, Stan could tell Kyle was being distant for some reason, and he also noticed that whenever he got close to Kyle, or touched him (accidentally the first few times, and then deliberately just to make sure) he would flinch, just enough to notice, and hiss quietly then make some excuse to move away.

Then Friday night, just like every night for the past week, Stan couldn't sleep. He tried forgetting whatever it was that had happened at the beginning of the week and the days that followed it, but it refused to go away. He sighed and sat up in bed for the third time, but this time he didn't eventually lie back down again, this time he set his bare feet down on the warm carpet and slowly walked out his room. His feet took him to Kyle's room.

It seemed Kyle couldn't sleep either. He lay with his back facing Stan, but from the crack in the door Stan could see he was tense and knew he was just as far from sleep as he was. He pressed his hand flat against the door and slowly pushed it open, wincing as it creaked. The creaking was followed by bed sheets rustling, and Stan sheepishly lifted his head up to look at Kyle instead of the fluffy green carpet. Stan coughed awkwardly.

"You can't sleep either?"

"Well, certainly not now," Kyle answered with a glare. "What do you want? It's..." He turned away from Stan to purposefully inspect his digital clock. "Three in the morning?!" He looked at his clock in disbelief for a while before sighing and setting it back down.

"That's the problem, I can't sleep"

"Well what do you want me to do about it?" Stan had to hold back his smile, Kyle was always like this when he was tired and he found it nothing short of adorable. If things hadn't been so awkward between them this past week, he would have voiced these thoughts.

"I dunno... Talk to me, you've been avoiding me all week"

"Stan. Now is really not the time"

"But you can't sleep either, right?"

"But I have work tomorrow!"

"But tomorrow is Saturday" Stan pointed out calmly, lifting up his left arm in a weak gesture.

"God damn it Stan, fine, if you wanna talk then let's talk" He sat up in bed and folded his arms, the sheets pooling at his hips. Stan walked over and sat down on Kyle's bed, only noticing now that it was slightly wider than his own. He sat next to Kyle with his back resting against the headboard, his legs burying themselve beneath the covers. Their legs brushed and Kyle jumped, so he move them away. He stayed silent for a few minutes.

"Kyle... Should I just move out?" He eventually asked after giving it some thought.

"What the fuck, Stan? No"

"Well it's just, this doesn't seem to be working, me and you have been apart for more or less three years... Maybe it just isn't the same anymore" ever since the incident in their childhood when they almost drifted apart and Cartman, of all people, almost became Kyle's new best friend, he sometimes worried that this would happen again.

"Stan," Kyle sighed and his shoulders slumped, his defenses finally slipping away. "Alright I'll be honest with you, something here isn't the same" When he saw Stan fold in on himself slightly, his shoulders pushed forward and his head bowed down, he looked at him sympathetically. "But look at the bigger picture here, just for a minute, we both went to separate colleges. For three years, Stan," He decided not to mention that he couldn't stand being apart from Stan any longer than that if he didn't have to be, which is one of the reasons why he asked Stan to move in. "And we've only been back together again for a week, things just... They just can't snap back that fast" As much as he was trying to reassure Stan, he was trying to tell himself this too as the same train of thought kept repeating over and over in his mind for the past few hours.

"I don't think that's it, though"

"What do you mean?" Kyle genuinely wanted to know the answer, and Stan looked up at Kyle when he felt his warm hand rest on his shoulder.

"In the beginning things seemed fine, a bit rusty, but going in the right track. Now... Since Sunday night... All we did is dance together, did that bother you? Is it because I'm gay?"

"No Stan, just, I don't know. I was scared" he admitted and pulled his hand away and lay back down again, sighing.

"What is there to be scared of?" Stan asked as he lay down with him and pulled the covers up around them, turning on his side to face his friend. Kyle just shook his head, because he didn't know the answer either. In an attempt to comfort his friend (and calm him down after a stressful week), Stan ran his hand through his hair. He had known since about the time that Kyle stopped wearing his hat that he loved having his hair messed with, even if he didn't say so. Stan thought Kyle was kind of like a cat, one that would demand everything, but when the time was right and if you earned it, it would show you some love in return for a petting.

Kyle closed his eyes and sighed happily before grabbing Stan's other hand and bringing that to his hair too, silently demanding that he use both hands. Stan sat up so that he could do this better, and Kyle opened one eye to watch him.

"This might be easier if you sat up too" Stan suggested.

"Nnnope" he smiled and shut his eyes again, too relaxed to sit up.

"Alright, if you don't sit up I'm just going to have to sit on you then!"

"Do what you want" he said softly, and Stan was surprised he wasn't met with at least a little bit of resistance. He adjusted himself so he was sat on Kyle just above his hips, careful not to squash him with all his weight.

Kyle hummed every so often as he felt Stan's hands dive in and out his hair, his gentle fingers brushing against his scalp. He knew this must have looked so odd, but he didn't care because it felt so good.

Stan, on the other hand, gradually looked more and more confused. His hands dove deep in to the soft auburn curls, and this was just as relaxing to him as he knew it must be for Kyle, but the reason he was frowning was because his body seemed to be slowly leaning forward of it's own accord, and every time Kyle let out a quiet moan of content a shiver ran down his spine and the tips of his fingers tingled, though he tried to blame it on Kyle's hair brushing against them.

When Stan stopped an indeterminate amount of time later, Kyle opened his heavy eyes again to find Stan's face just inches from his own, and there was a strange look in his eyes as they flicked back and forth as if searching for something, his lips parted slightly. "Stan...?" He whispered, feeling captivated, trapped in Stan's gaze and he wondered if he looked the same too.

He didn't realise their faces were getting closer to each others until their lips brushed gently. It was only a small touch, but it felt like electricity, like he had been struck by lightening. He gasped as his body suddenly lurched forwards, connecting them fully by the lips and pushing them both in to a sitting position as he clutched at Stan, like he was trying to hold on to something but he didn't know what that something was.

Stan found himself gripping back, running his hands up the back of Kyle's shirt and over his shoulder blades, finally holding on tight to Kyle's shoulders as their lips began to move. It was a strange experience, swapping and changing between fast, desperate movements and slow, more cautious ones. Before Stan could really comprehend what was happening, they were both lying down again, Stan on top of Kyle until the other broke the kiss and flipped them over.

"What... What..." Kyle almost whispered, looking down at Stan as his hands rested on his chest, holding himself up.

"Kyle..." Stan didn't really know what to say, he felt just as confused as Kyle looked.

"Stan, I'm sorry, I'm sorry" he kept repeating as he climbed off him and lay back down next to him. Stan was glad he didn't freak out again, but he still wasn't sure if he was happy with this reaction, either.

"What are you sorry for?"

"Oh gee Stan I don't know," he said sarcastically. "For kissing you, maybe?" Stan just laughed.

"Don't be sorry about that," he exhaled and sat up, looking a little more serious now. "Human nature and all that jazz, I'm going to go back to bed though, unless you want me to stay?"

"No, no, you can go if you want"

So Stan just said goodnight and made his way back to his own bed, his first hope being that they hadn't just made things even more awkward than before. It didn't take him long to fall asleep after that, even though his heart was racing a mile a minute.

Kyle still had a problem, though, and he couldn't get his mind to switch off. He definitely knew something was different, maybe there had been a fine line between them that had broken, or maybe the line was never there to begin with... maybe now they were just becoming aware of that, or aware of something. This felt like some kind of strange awakening, and maybe that's why he couldn't sleep.


There is a song to go with this chapter, so if you want to listen just search Stefani Germanotta Captivated on YouTube (yes that's Lady Gaga). Also I'm going to be away from the 1st September until the 16th so there probably won't be a new chapter until then.