A/N: Drama, drama everywhere.

Also I've noticed I always do A/N's even when I have nothing to say...I just really like communicating with you guys sob. And since I can't blog on this site, you all just need to know how truly awesome you are.

I'm very mushy as of late so forgive me pft

Enjoy~

Kyle's hands fumbled through his tangle of curls, still seeped with sweat and matted down from his restless sleep. He stood in front of his mirror, his lips quirking into a pout as he noticed that the dark rings under his eyes had become more prominent. He sighed, grabbing his brush and quickly trying to fix the absolute disaster of copper sitting atop his head. Every single morning he had the routine of considering the cost that it would be to get his hair chemically straightened, but he knew that his mom would most likely string him up by his throat if he dared tried something like that.

He managed to fix up what he could before stripping off his pajamas and grabbing his clothes laid out neatly on his desk chair for school. As he pulled on a pair of hunter green tight jeans, he bit his lip. Stan always said his ass looked amazing in them.

Stan...

He groaned, looking up at his ceiling as he struggled to pull the denim up around his slender hips. He had no idea what to do at this point. He knew that he had to talk to Stan about how he felt...but fuck, he hated discussing his feelings like that. When he imagined their relationship, all this bullshit going on was something he thought the two of them would never have to go through. They were so goddamn close, they already knew everything about each other, it's not like there was some Earth-shattering secret lingering above them in a dark cloud of chaos waiting to happen.

So why was it so hard?

He finally managed to snake his pants up around him and buttoned them, throwing on his t-shirt and placing his green hat comfortably upon his head. He glanced into the mirror once more, pulling out some of his bangs so they hung comfortably over his face. He glanced over at his nightstand, grabbing his phone from the charger. He opened it up, finding notifications galore.

A text from Cartman telling him not to forget to bring snacks to his party tonight. Another from Bebe of all people, asking him if he's doing okay. He scrolled, finding four missed calls from Stan and his heart sank lightly in his chest. He really shouldn't be ignoring the boy, he knew that. But something about talking to him really just set his hair on end. Maybe it was just the dread of the inevitable fight. Kyle was smart enough to know that once they started, it was only a matter of time before one or both of them got hurt over the subject matter.

It was just not something to look forward to.

He scrolled once again, quirking his thin brow at a message from Kenny, 'You and I need to fucking talk.'

He racked his brain over the anger he could feel from the message. Had he said something wrong? Was Ken just drunk again? Was he caught up in the rumor mill surrounding Stan and his fight? He slid the message bar over, starting to type before he heard a shout outside his window.

"KYLE!"

His head shot over, it was Kenny's voice. He walked over and threw the window open, staring down at the blonde. His face fell into concern, he looked horrible. "Dude, I was about to text you!" he yelled down. "What's wrong?"

"Get your goddamn ass down here right the fuck now!" Ken spat. "You have some goddamn explaining to do!"

"What? Ken what are you-"

"Just get the fuck down here!" he screamed.

Kyle was overrun with confusion and hurt at Kenny's tone. He never got mad at him. What else could he possibly be fucking up at this point?

"O-okay...give me a second," he nodded slowly, backing up and closing his window. His hands rested on the sill for a few moments before he blinked and slowly began walking out of the room. He grabbed his bag from beside his door, hurrying down the steps, only to be greeted by his mother, her arms crossed and her face twisted into an angry scowl.

"Kyle, what is Kenneth doing screaming at you in the yard?"

"I...I don't know, Ma," he replied truthfully.

"Well whatever it is, he better have a good excuse for that kind of language," she huffed.

"I guess I need to go see," he shrugged, beginning to walk to their front door.

"Aren't you going to have some breakfast?" she called out. He paused, grabbing two pieces of toast from the table and smiling softly at her.

"Thanks, Ma, I'll see you after school."

"All right, have a good day, Bubbie. And tell Kenneth not to come around here anymore if he's going to behave like that."

Yeah, that'd make Kenny's anger go away.

He hurried over to the door and threw it open, finding a very angry blonde staring straight into his eyes, his arms crossed and his shoulders heaving in a heavy, angry pant. "We need to talk," he growled.

"A-about what?" he blinked. "I uh...I brought you some toast?" he winced, pushing a piece towards the boy. Kenny didn't move and Kyle gulped. He must have done something seriously wrong. Ken never turned down free food. He pulled the bread back towards himself and straightened up, clearing his throat.

"You lied to me," he hissed.

Kyle cocked his head, his brain replaying their conversation from the day before. "About what?"

Kenny looked over at the window and Kyle followed his gaze, the two of them meeting the dark eyes of Sheila staring at them.

"Ugh," he groaned, grabbing Kyle's arm and hauling him down the end of the sidewalk. "Fucking drive us to school and we'll talk about it. I can't do this with your mom standing there."

"Are...are you wanting to punch me or something?"

"Well to be frank, yes, I am. If you're driving though it might lower my interest in doing so," he glowered.

"All right, all right," he nodded, a part of him fearful for his life. He dropped the toast to the ground, far past any interest in eating, his stomach doing flips as he fumbled with his keys, unlocking his car. They both climbed in and he slid the key into the ignition, gulping and his hands shaking on the steering wheel as he slid out onto the road.

"Okay...what's on your mind?" he asked as they pulled past the house.

Kenny was silent for a moment before heaving a deep, angry breath through flared nostrils. His eyes closed and Kyle glanced over, half scared, half concerned. "Kyle," he started slowly and deliberately. "You wouldn't lie to me, right?"

"Of course not," he blinked. "Dude I've never lied to you. I mean, excluding things like birthday presents or whatev-"

"Shut up, I want short answers from you right now," Kenny snapped.

Kyle could feel the fear rushing out and the anger beginning to build. "You don't fucking talk to me like that," he growled. "Now fucking tell me what the hell is up your ass."

"The fact that you lied to me about how soon Stan was up your ass," he snarled.

That statement made Kyle recoil in shock and confusion. "What...what the fuck are you talking about?"

"When did you and Stan first sleep together?" he asked point-blank.

He blinked, "Dude, I told you. We'd been dating for three days, we got kind of hammered, and it just kind of happened. Hell, I told you that it happened way too soon for my tastes."

Ken was silent for a long, tense moment. Kyle's slender hands gripped the steering wheel anxiously. He had no idea why Ken would be so angry at him for something he'd known for months.

"Funny. I hear it was a lot sooner than that," he said quietly.

"What? Who the fuck told you that?" he looked over at him briefly.

"Craig..."

"Really? You're going to listen to Craig instead of me?" Kyle growled. "Funny, I fucking thought that you'd take it from the actual source of-"

"Who heard it from Stan."

Kyle fell silent, his eyes locked on the road. Kenny mustered up enough energy to look over at him, seeing the redhead's face slowly falling into a muss of confusion and anger.

"What...what did Stan say?" he barely made out a whisper.

"Well I hear tell that you and him fucked on Token's kitchen counter two weeks before you were datin'. Ya know, the night you fuckin' told me that you'd never do such a 'degenerate' thing," he seethed.

The car slowly pulled over onto the side of the road and Kyle's hand slowly moved to the gear-shift, putting it in park in a quiet trance. His hand stayed on the knob, his eyes analytically scanning it, as though it contained his answers.

He finally turned his head up to Kenny and shook it. "That's a lie," he said softly. "I swear, I didn't."

"Well then who was Stan fucking in the kitchen?" he crossed his arms expectantly. "Because it sounds like to me, you did fuck him beforehand, and you felt fucking guilty about it and came over to my house and shut me down because you felt like a fucking slut."

Kyle's brows knit together. "Don't you dare talk to me like that, you fucker," he hissed. "I am fucking telling you the truth."

"Just seems oddly coincidental, doesn't it?" he asked firmly, though Kyle could tell in his eyes that he wasn't nearly as angry as he was making himself out to be. He was wounded. "Stan just happens to say all that went down on the exact same night?"

Kyle's shoulders drooped and he shook his head. "Ken. You know me. You know I don't fucking toy around with people. Besides, I was only at that party for like, a half an hour. You really think I had time to get so smashed I'd sodomize Token's $400,000 countertop?"

"I-"

"If you recall," he interrupted, his tongue dripping with turpentine-laced anger, "I left that party super early because you wanted me to come over to your house to talk. So I fucking did. And yes, I broke your heart, we all fucking know that I am a piece of shit for that."

Kenny's face fell, his eyes scanning over Kyle's and realizing that he'd fucked up. He'd fucked up bad.

"But fuck, Kenny, I tell you everything," he shook, throwing the car back in gear and getting back on the road. "I trust you with goddamn everything I possibly can, and you have the goddamn nerve to act like you're the victim in all this?"

"Okay, look, Ky, I just thought-"

"Oh don't you fucking 'Ky' me," he spat, zooming through an intersection with a sharp turn that made Kenny grab onto the door handle beside him in a blind panic. "I know that you like me, okay? I know that you're a sweet guy who would've treated me right or whatever, but that's just not the track that happened, okay? And you need to realize that right now, I'm with that fucking asshole, so I can't exactly just drive us out for a goddamn honeymoon right now."

Kenny's heart skipped a beat. "Wait...right now?" he said in a tiny, hopeful voice. They rolled to a stop at a light and Kyle took a deep breath.

He looked over at the blonde with exhausted green eyes. "Ken. There are definitely days that I regret not going with you. I mean it. Do you know how hard it was for me to actually turn you down? I had a choice, and I made it, and, yeah, maybe I made the wrong one. But at the same time, you and I could have ended up in the exact same place Stan and I are right now. Well, except for one detail," he grumbled.

"What?"

"You never would have fucking told people that I was putting out like that," he muttered. "You actually respect me."

Kenny's face softened, reaching his hand out and putting it on Kyle's arm. "Yeah, I do. I'm so sorry, Kyle. I'm sorry I got so angry without talking to you first."

Kyle let out a humorless laugh, "You know, I would've done the same thing," he looked at him with a small, crooked smile. It fell and he sighed, turning his attention back to the road and pulling forward. "God, what a mess," he shook his head.

Ken was silent for a bit, trying desperately not to focus on Kyle telling him that he regretted not choosing him, though a small flutter of joy couldn't help but erupt in his chest. "What are you going to do?"

Kyle bit his lip and shrugged. "What can I do?" he asked. "No seriously, I'm open for suggestions."

"Want me to kick his ass?" he asked sheepishly.

"No, that pleasure belongs to me," he chuckled. His eyes grazed slowly over the road in front of him, darting now and again towards Kenny. He couldn't help but hate himself a little for telling him that he regretted not going with him. Now if things worked out with Stan, Ken's heart would be broken all over again. If things didn't work with him...he didn't know if he could go through the potential heartache of losing both of his best friends in the same fashion.

This love triangle bullshit was not something that he'd ever envisioned happening to him.

"Kyle..." Ken started softly. "Are you mad at me?"

"No, dude. I'm not," he assured him. "I understand why that would be hard for you to hear."

"No I mean...mad at me for telling you how I feel," Kenny winced, running his fingers through his hair.

Kyle felt a pang of guilt radiate through his chest. "No, Kenny. I'm not mad at you for that. Trust me, I'm flattered. More than flattered. You're a great guy, Dude. If it had made me mad or super uncomfortable, I wouldn't want to hang with you all the time," he shot him a smile. Kenny shifted uncomfortably, looking at the dashboard guiltily. "You should probably have a smoke," Kyle said softly. "Take some of your edge off."

"...Dude it's your car. I'm not allowed to smoke in here."

"Right. It's my car. And I say smoke away because I'm hoping I get a contact buzz."

Ken laughed softly, grabbing his pack from his pocket and rolling the window down. He lit it up and inhaled slowly, letting the sweet nicotine absorb down into his throat. "Did..." he started, staring at the lit stick in his hand. "Did you mean it when you said you regretted not being with me? Or were ya just being nice?"

Kyle was quiet for a moment before replying, "I mean it. But you also know, regardless of how shitty Stan is, I'm not one to cheat."

"I'm not askin' ya to."

"Then you know me better than he does apparently," he scoffed. "Look, dude, shit's just a mess right now, you know?"

"What if...," he started before pausing and taking a deep drag. "Never mind."

"What?"

"No, Dude, it's not exactly appropriate right now," he forced out a small laugh.

Kyle nodded slowly, "You want to know what I'll do if I decide to end it with Stan."

Kenny bit his lip, staring out the window at the pavement rushing by. 'So not cool of you,' he thought to himself.

"I'll take that as a yes," he continued. "Ken I really don't know. I feel like, at least for awhile, I'll want to be alone. Stan's such a huge part of my life, cutting him out and just moving on doesn't seem feasible. But you're always gonna be my friend, okay? Regardless of what else happens down the road, I'm not going to just start ignoring you or any drama queen bullshittery like that."

"I appreciate that," he smiled.

"Now, come on, tell me something that's actually good," he smirked. "Because honestly, I'm not comfortable with you being all mopey and quiet," he winked at him.

"Oh? And just how am I supposed to be?"

"Your usual smart-ass perverted self is the reason I like hanging out with you so much," he chuckled.

"Why? Because you're such a prim and proper dickhead and need the balance?"

"There he is," he reached over and shook Ken's knee a bit. "And, to be honest, it's because you're the only stable thing in my life right now. You're pretty constant, but everything else just feels like it's turning on me. It's nice to know that you're gonna be there like the asshole that you are when I need it."

"I aim to please, my dear," he snorted. The both of them finally relaxed into their seats, feeling the wave of anger and hurt finally ebbing out to sea. It was such a nice feeling, they both noticed, the comfort of the two of them together as they were.

They came to the train tracks and stopped in front of the lowered barriers, watching the cars go by agonizingly slow. Ken felt the car shift into park as Kyle reached down into his pocket and pulled out his phone, biting his lip softly. He bobbed his hand a bit, as though he were weighing the small device.

"Kyle?" he asked in concern.

"I'm going to regret this so much," he shook his head, opening up the phone, his eyes scanning down for Stan's name. He pressed call and held it to his ear.

"Dude, he's at football."

"I know," he nodded, waiting patiently for it to go to voicemail.

'It's Stan, you know what to do.' A long beep followed and Kyle took a deep breath.

"We need to talk. Meet me outside in the courtyard after school, not any sooner before...," he looked at Ken who stared back with worried eyes. The look just made Kyle's anger flare through his body, his brain overriding anything but pure, unadulterated fury. "And bring anyone that you've been telling this whole time that I was your fucking whore, you dick," he hissed, bringing the phone down and ending the call, his stomach dropping and his eyes widening as he realized what he'd just done.

"Holy fuck," Kenny stared at him.

"Oh my god...," he shook his head. "I...I don't know what just happened. It fucking just came out!"

"Dude, it'll be okay," Kenny reached his hand over and stroked his shoulder as tenderly as he could muster. But he knew better. They both knew better. Kyle had just opened the floodgates, and now everything was going to be pouring out in a matter of hours. The two of them watched the train barreling in front of them, seeing what few tatters remaining of Kyle and Stan's relationship getting crushed beneath it.

A/N: I'm so bad at romance drama holy balls

Well either way, thanks for R&Ring!