This one is from Kyles POV because I felt it was needed... So yeah, here you go!
A kiss; the connection of the lips of two individuals, typically to express strong emotions such as love.
Why we kiss; in the act of courting, a kiss is very important. By kissing, we can 'taste' a partner and send the information to our brains, allowing us to select the right mate. A kiss is also a form of expression for many other emotions, though these kisses are more straight forward (such as a kiss on the cheek) and more platonic than a romantic kiss.
So, I know in theory what a kiss is and why it happens, but I still can't work out why or how it has just happened to me. In theory, it makes complete sense, but when applied to me and my own problems, suddenly it became very hazy and confusing.
I don't like that. I don't like not knowing. I like to look at a problem and solve it, that is what I do, and kissing my best friend without a single thought or reason is definitely what I do not do. Until now.
Stan was calm about it, like he is with most things. In fact, thinking about it, he actually kissed me back. Though I know he is more about pleasing people and living in the moment, and it's not like a kiss is a bad experience, in fact, I dare say I enjoyed it. Plus, taking his preferences into the equation, I don't think he would protest too much to a guy randomly kissing him, and he probably will have thought it was better that it was me rather than some stranger… I shook my head, trying to forget about it, but when I looked back at the door that Stan left through just moments before, I found that this was impossible.
With a resigned sigh, I lay back on my bed and stared at the patterns on the ceiling, knowing it was going to be a long time before I got to sleep.
When I woke up I looked at my clock and, with a groan, I realised it was 2 in the afternoon. What's worse was that I only got eight hours sleep because I kept tossing and turning as my mind was racing all night until the early hours of the morning, trying to come up with a solution but only coming to a dead end every time. I could hear Stan moving about down the hall, and I guessed that he managed to fall asleep way before I did, and probably woke up way before me, too.
I debated for a while if I should leave my room, but I couldn't hide forever. Eventually, I got dressed and made my way down the hall to the living room.
"Finally decided to return to the land of the living?" Stan asked me with an enticing smile.
"Oh ha ha." I bit back sarcastically, almost blaming my lack of sleep on him, but then I remembered it was all my fault… Wasn't it? Perhaps I could blame it on his kissable lips. However, before I got the chance to, he walked over from his spot in the kitchen and sat down at the dining table with his lunch; A ham sandwich.
"I would have made you something too, but I didn't know when you would wake up… I did wait for a couple of hours, but I was getting really hungry and, well…" he trailed off as he took his first bite out of his sandwich.
"It's okay, I'm capable of making something myself" he didn't say anything after that, just smiled and continued to eat. It was only once I had sat down opposite him with my own sandwich that he spoke again.
"So…"
"What?"
"You kissed me" he grinned. Oh, so he wanted to talk. Great.
"It... That... I was tired, and you were so close to me and-"
"Okay, okay, I'm not accusing you of anything. Now, however… You're making me think you have something to hide" he smiled and took the last bite of his sandwich. I just stared at him, not sure if I should be offended or not.
"I'm not gay"
"Okay"
"I'm not!"
"I believe you!" he said with a small laugh before pouting his lips and pointing to them.
"Stan, stop it!" I tried to hold in my laughter and look serious, but I had no such luck.
I was glad to see that things weren't awkward between us as they had been the past week, perhaps that kiss was needed to set things straight again (ironically, considering the circumstances). But if that's the case, then why did I find myself wanting to do it again? If the solution of the problem was that it was to relieve some form of negative tension then why do I want to feel his lips pressed against mine once more? It was this thought, and this desperate and almost obsessive need for an answer that led me to Stan's bedroom door that night.
I could hear him snoring quietly and I pictured him lying there, mouth parted ever so slightly as air moved in and out through those lips. Soft lips. I pushed the door open, and Stan didn't stir. Maybe I could just give him a light peck on the lips without waking him up, and I could get my answer and slip away without him knowing. So, with that thought, I confidently crossed the room and crouched down at the side of the bed where his head lay.
He looked just as I had imagined. His lips parted as he breathed deeply, snoring occasionally. I looked at his lips and swallowed, finding my mouth suddenly dry. You are Kyle Broflovski, a voice said in my head, you don't do this.
I ignored the voice and leaned forward, noticing Stan's eyelids flicker out of the corner of my own but I ignored that too. I was after one thing and one thing only, and it inched closer and closer to me. Closer, closer, closer until-
"Kyle…?" A sleepy voiced mumbled out through those lips and I stopped, my own lips mere centimeters away from them, so close that I could actually feel his words on my skin. I barely moved; only my eyes seemed capable of doing anything as I nervously looked left at Stan who, to my horror, was indeed awake. "What are you… Doing?" he asked me with sleepy confusion.
"I think I want to kiss you again" I said without hesitation. I knew I couldn't come up with a believable story as to why I was in this position, so the truth would have to do.
"You think?"
"I don't know, I just want you to kiss me, it… I don't understand" I knew I was babbling, but it seemed to work because the next thing I knew his lips were against mine. My first thought was that this was so much better than last time; it was gentle and slow, but certainly no less passionate. I sat on the bed, trying my best not to part our lips. Eventually, I managed to somehow lie next to him, his face in my hands as our tongues slow danced together, the only music being the sounds we made. I heard our amplified kisses, wet and oddly pleasurable, and mixed in was the sound of our deep breaths. All my senses were heightened, and I could feel my pupils dilate. I felt the beginning of an addiction.
When I finally pulled away some time later, I noticed that I had closed my eyes. I didn't dare to open them; I didn't want to see Stan's reaction. I decided to just pretend that I was asleep, and he started stroking my hair like the previous night until he actually did fall asleep, and it wasn't long before I joined him.
I woke up before Stan the next morning. I watched him carefully as he lay there with his mouth wide open and lying half on his back, partly facing me and I figured that at some point during the night he had changed positions as this was certainly not the one we fell asleep in. I myself hadn't moved much, but that doesn't mean to say I didn't move around at all…
After the unnecessary analysis of the scene before me, I distracted myself with the patterns on Stan's ceiling. They were different than mine, which was odd, surely the people who were in charge of the wall paper in this apartment building would have used the same paper to save money or at least for convenience. I gave a tiny shrug, one the size that this small, cramped single bed would allow, even though nobody could see it. I wished I was in my bed, but then Stan gave a quiet snore (was that even possible?) next to me and I took back that wish. If trying to find my answer was the start of some crazy fucked up journey of self discovery, at least he would be there.
After making all the patterns available on Stan's ceiling, I decided that I really should get up and go back to my own room, or at least out of this one because if I couldn't keep my mind off anything else but that unsolvable problem, then I at least didn't want to be around when Stan woke up and I would once again be unable to answer his questions.
As I sleepily walked to the living room, deciding I wouldn't be able to go back to sleep despite my tiredness, I wondered if we would kiss again. It seemed as though this potential solution just made the problem bigger and harder to ignore. Damn it.
I decided to use my time to continue to try and solve this. We had been apart pretty much the whole three years of college, there's a start… Yes, okay, we saw each other in the school holidays and whenever it was possible, considering the distance between us (I sat down on the couch as I thought about this) but, we've been back together in such a way that we can only avoid each other at work or, in Stan's case, by job hunting or going out at night. But it's still always in the back of my mind that he's here, and he's here with me. Maybe that's were things were going wrong, wires were crossing in my brain and I was losing it.
Stan this, Stan that, Stan's here, Stan's there. Stan, Stan, Stan. I guess I didn't really notice it until then, but the only time I'm not thinking about him is when I'm concentrating on my work. Maybe my brain thinks I would enjoy wanting to kiss him, so it won't let me rest until I do. That has to be it. Right?
I grabbed my hair in frustration. The answer can't be that simple, and it makes no sense, it's illogical.
Regardless of my frustration, I couldn't stop thinking about his lips. I spent not a single night in my own bed from that night onwards, and our nighttime kisses were quickly becoming a regular recurring thing. We never spoke about it in the day, though.
Does this make us friends with benefits? I don't think this would ever develop in to sex, really. Sex, at least in Stan's mind, is something he will not do with someone he does not love deeply… Something about connecting emotionally as well as physically, as he himself once described it to me. He calls it making love. So me and Stan could never be friends with benefits based on the basic fact that, because it's Stan, we would have to be friends and more to make it that far.
So, we're friends who kiss every night. And kissing is nice, and Stan is my best friend. So, maybe this unsolvable problem isn't so bad and… In fact, I thought with a smile, it really isn't a problem at all.
There is a song for this chapter, but not all the lyrics fit so I'll let you experience it just as it is :D haha. Also if you realised I slipped in one of Spock's lines, it was intentional, just to show the way in which he is analysing the whole thing and completely ignoring the human element to it all lol
