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“Swear on my own sexuality that they’re gay. And bet my hat they’re dating.”
Eric Cartman had a habit of shipping people, and people around him just started getting used to his blabbering.
“You really think so, Eric?!” Butters leaned closer from across the lunch table, invested in Cartman’s theories once again.
“Cartman, just because two people are similar, doesn’t mean they’re dating.” Kenny muffled through his parka before taking a bite of his sandwich.
“Well, remember how he was right about Tolkien and Nichole being together almost a week before they actually started dating?” Clyde chimed in. “I’m just saying, Cartman might have a knack for pointing these things out.
“But he never pointed us out.” Craig gestured to himself and Tweek.
“Well, I was fighting some homophobia then.” Everyone looked at Cartman. “What?”
“It still surprises me to hear you’re a racist and bigoted ass hole, but you draw the line at homophobia.” Cartman’s head snapped to his left in surprise from hearing Kyle’s very recognizable and sarcastic tone. Stan was next to him holding his own lunch tray. Both boys sat down at the lunch table bench and started eating.
“And the boyfriends finally arrive! What took you so long guys? Making out in the janitor’s closet?”
Not homophobic sure, but he still said things that felt so.
“Shut up fat ass.” Kyle’s response was automatic. “We were right behind you in the lunch line.” He knew that no one would believe Cartman’s dumbass theories, or just straight up lies; so it surprised him when he looked up from eating to see everyone staring at him and his best friend. Say what anyone would about Cartman, he was manipulative. No matter how smart someone seemed, he would convince them of anything.
Kyle groaned but decided not to retaliate. It always seemed that when he said something, he just made it worse. He glanced over at Stan to see him fighting a blush as he tried to just focus on his food. Thankfully, someone else started a new conversation, distracting from Cartman.
How does he always know? Kyle thought to himself as he placed his foot on Stan’s under the table. They started a quiet game of ‘footsies’ that seemed to go unnoticed by everyone, except Cartman, who couldn’t seem to mind his own god damn business.
***
A couple days had passed since Cartman revealed he was onto the secret couple. Today’s lunch break was outside at the playground area and surrounding tables before everyone would go inside for the rest if their classes. Cartman leaned against the fence of the playground with his phone in his hand, lunch tray to the side. It was merely a disguise to make it seem like he wasn’t doing anything, but he was in fact watching Kyle and Stan. They were on the crappy merry go round that looked like it could give someone tetanus at any moment. There was also a couple other kids but Cartman kept his eye’s glued on the two “best friends.”
“Cupid me, I don’t know what to do. There’s no way we’re wrong but… What if they just don’t know yet?” He glanced to his upper left to confirm that the small cupid was there. It looked just like him, but with no clothes, and wings.
“But you remember seeing them play-kick each other under the table!” Cupid offered some evidence as to why they were right, but Cartman still looked confused. He twisted a piece of grass sticking up from the wet dirt from after the snow melted as he thought. “Well, if you’re right, maybe they just need a little push! Like how we did last time!” Cupid giggled as he gave Cartman a nudge on the cheek.
Cartman snapped up from the ground. “Butters! Butters, I need your help!!”
***
Everyone sat crisscrossed or stood in quiet conversation in the corner of the gym while waiting for Eric to finish his last lap of P.E. Even if he didn’t run all thirteen, totaling their mile run today, no one had the patience to tell the gym coach. Any chance they had to get out early, they were taking it. The students passed the time by making small talk. The girls were playing clapping games, Clyde and Tolkien were picking apart the old, yellowing gym floor, starting from the corner, and most others were on their phones.
Cartman finally “finished” his run as he stopped and put his hands on his knees, panting. An unnecessary amount of sweat drenched the front of his shirt, so much it looked fake.
“Eric Cartman…” the coach marked Cartman’s time on his board. “15 minutes and 47 seconds. Improvement.” Half the kids stifled a snicker, but Cartman slowly turned his head to his right, as if he only heard the ginger boy on the corners of the bleachers.
Kyle was sitting next to Stan on the edge of the bleachers, away from everyone else, but close enough to not seem suspicious. “Had something…” Cartman heaved for air. “To say… Jew?” He attempted to add bite to his statement, like how he would usually talk to Kyle, but he was to busy drinking air to do so.
“No! No.” Kyle covered his mouth to hide his smile.
“Thought so…” Cartman stood up straight as he continued to catch his breath.
“Ok class, that leaves just about 5 minutes of time left. You can all hit the showers early.”
Cartman twitched up stiffly like he had remembered something important. He had to lock Kyle and Stan in the locker room without the blame falling on him.
Cartman had gone through a lot of plans instead of finishing his class work today. His first plan was to grab a chain and lock. After that, he would convince everyone to leave but the couple, tie the metal around the door handles, and lock it tight. There were two problems with this plan: One. No one would believe that the Batmobile was outside like they had before in 4th grade. Two. The doors have gotten an update since then, so a simple chain wouldn’t fit around the door’s long handles, that went across the entire door. Though, he hadn’t gotten a good look at them, so he could be wrong.
However, the updated doors brought Cartman to his second scene. The door needed to be locked with a key that the teacher had. Cartman would just act like he was doing a kind service by volunteering to lock the door for the coach. Short and simple. But this would immediately put the blame on him. He needed something a little more complex.
And so, initiate: Kyle and Stan, Locker Room Lock In.
The name wasn’t important; Eric hadn’t had enough time to come up with a better one while coming up with the plan.
First: change like normal. Make sure everyone leaves. Cartman dressed as fast as he could so he would make it out first. This way he could watch as everyone went out. He leaned against the wall and passed time on his phone.
…
It seemed like no time at all when Cartman heard no clattering and no conversations from people walking out. He looked up. There was no one. God, who knows how long it’s been. He was too easily distracted on his phone.
Shit! Kyle and Stan could be long gone by now!
Cartman pocketed his phone and attempted to calmly walk across the hall to talk to the coach. If he was fast enough he could finish his plan.
Second: tell the coach you forgot something in the locker room.
“Coach!” Cartman scraggly spoke. “Unlock the doors, I forgot something!”
“Calm down Cartman, they aren’t even locked. One kid’s still showering in there.”
Shit, now Cartman made his cue too early. But he had to stick to the plan and hope whatever ass hole was taking eons in the shower would leave soon. But he had to act now because by speaking to the teacher, Cartman gave Butter’s his cue.
Third: have Butters distract the teacher so he doesn’t see Cartman sneak Stan and Kyle back in.
“O-Okay cool yeah uh huh thanks.” Eric sped-walked in the room right as Butter’s turned a corner to start talking to the coach.
“Oh well h-heya, teach!” Butters came up behind the coach, turning him away from the locker room door. “Had something to uh, ask ya.”
“What is it, Stotch?”
“Oh, I’m sure I’ll figure out what it was…”
‘I swear to God Butters, you better have something to distract him with’ Cartman thought.
“Alright, who the hell is still in here!” Cartman yelled after the door closed behind him, making a lose slam.
“Mind your own business, Cartman.”
“…Kahl?”
Oh my God, of course it was Kyle! He always took forever to wash his, quote of Cartman, “Jew mop.”
“My name’s not ‘Kahl! Also, why do you care?” The sound of splashing water hitting the tile slowed when Kyle turned the squeaky, stiff handle. After Cartman’s lack of response, Kyle continued. “Can you grab me a towel?”
“YeahSureHereYouGo!” Cartman rushed as he grabbed a clean folded towel off a bench and tossed it into the shower area. He could barely hear Kyle’s complaints of getting the towel wet from the floor before Cartman was “sprinting” out the door. Stan usually waits for Kyle by the entrance outside.
Forth: convince Kyle and Stan to go back into the locker room
“Stan! Stan, oh my God.” Cartman clasped his hands on his knees again. How many times would he be choking for air?
“Jesus Christ, what?”
“Kahl… slipped.” Cartman straightened himself out as he came up with the rest of his lie. “Hit-split his head… you gotta-“
“What?!” Stan sprinted back inside before Cartman could finish.
“Oh God damn it…” Cartman picked up a jog after Stan so he could finish part five in time.
Fifth: tell the coach that you found what you need so he can lock up the doors.
As Cartman turned the corner back into the school he saw Stan turn the corner into the locker room. The door clattered shut behind him
Cartman jogged up to the teacher, interrupting his conversation with Butters.
“Found it, Teach, you can lock up the doors.” Cartman gasped, seeming way to suspicious to get this going.
The teacher turned back around to see Cartman out of breath. “Were you running laps in there boy?” Butters peeked over his shoulder to watch the interaction.
“Panic attack! Couldn’t find my uh,” Cartman pulled out his phone and pointed to it. “Phone. Anyway, I saw no one in there, so I thought I’d let you know that you can lock it up.”
“Oh, well thank you, Eric.” While locking the doors he directed his next words at Butters. “Sorry Butters, I’ll have to answer that later, its time for me to go.”
Everyone walked their split directions and when Cartman saw that the teacher was out of sight, he jumped in the air and pumped his fists in celebration. (Soon after looking around suspiciously to make sure no one saw that embarrassing display.)
Sixth: now to just go home and wait
But before he did that, he inspected the doors. Some chain could wrap around them after all! Luckily, he brought some to school just in case.
***
Kyle was putting on his shirt when Stan sprinted in looking panicked. Stan was about to turn into the showers when he saw a glimpse of Kyle by the lockers.
“Wait, Ky-“ he slipped on the condensation that rested on the tile, landing on his chest and dampening the front of his jacket.
“Stan, dude, what the hell?” Kyle walked over to him, looking down in confusion. “Are you okay?”
“Are you?!” Stan sat up with a small groan.
“Of course I am! Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Cartman said-“
“Well if Cartman said it, it’s probably not true.” Kyle interrupted.
Stan rolled his eyes. “Yeah I know, but he said you slipped in the shower and cracked your head. If he happened to not be lying, I would feel like a piece of shit.”
“But dude, it’s Cartman.” Kyle helped Stan off the floor. “Lemme just get my jacket so we can head out.”
Stan sighed as relief washed over him. “Okay.” But then something clicked. “But why would he make up something like that with no benefit?”
Kyle’s eyes shot open wide. “Oh shit!” Kyle was making a mad sprint for the door.
Locked.
“God damn it, I knew it! That fat ass has been eyeing us all day!” Kyle grabbed for his phone. “When I get my hands on that shit head, he won’t be able to walk straight!”
“That sounded suggestive.”
“Eww, gross man!” Kyle fought a smile as Stan giggled.
Kyle’s phone rang three times before Cartman picked up. “Cartman! You fuck face! You better get a teacher to unlock these doors right fucking now!!”
“I’m not sure I know what you mean Kahl.”
“Yes you do fat ass! You locked us in the locker room! It’s the same thing you did to Tolkien and Nichole!” Kyle banged on the door in hopes to catch a passer by’s attention.
“Even if I did know what you were talking about, I’m afraid the teachers have left already. Guess that’s your consequence for using all the school’s hot water with your long ass showers.” Kyle heard a car go by on Cartman’s end. He was definitely far from school by now.
“Cartman when you come to school next week I’ll-“
“Oh! Um Kahl? Why don’t you check your phone battery real quick?”
Kyle put the phone on speaker and checked the battery. 5%
“Shit! Stan, get me a charger please!”
“I’m afraid that won’t be possible, Kahl.” Cartman could be heard walking through his front door, and up the stairs to his room.
“Kyle, my charger’s missing, and there aren’t any in the outlets.”
“What? No! Check a locker!”
“You see Kahl, I’ve thought this through very carefully…” Cartman switched the call to FaceTime. While showing Kyle what he meant, he could also drain his battery. “It seems everyone’s chargers have gone missing? Yes?”
“There’s not a single one dude!” Stan called out.
Kyle turned back to his phone to see Cartman showing off his backpack with at least twenty phone chargers. Stan’s phone was also in there.
“You bitch!” Kyle screamed.
“See you next week, Kahl.”
Kyles phone died.
“That son of a bitch!! Stan! Grab your- oh wait.”
“Yeah, I think I dropped it while running.”
“Yeah, your phone was in Cartman’s bag.”
Kyle sat down and leaned against the wall next to the door with a sigh. “We’re gonna be here all weekend.” He grumbled, putting his head into his arms, which rested on his knees.
“Don’t worry, Kyle,” Stan sat to his left, bumping the corner. “There’s a football game tomorrow, Saturday afternoon. We’re sure to get outta here by then at the very least.”
“Aren’t you in that game?” Kyle turned his head to the side.
“Yeah, I am.” He sighed. He wouldn’t get a nice shower at home, a bed to sleep in, or dinner tonight. “I doubt they will make me do it. I mean, the coach locked us in the locker room. Even if it was Cartman’s fault.”
“I was gonna watch you, but if you’re not playing, maybe we could spend the day together.”
“How could you possibly want more time with me when we’re about to spend the night together?”
“You’re phrasing it like we’re having a sleepover. We got locked in the school.”
Stan laughed a little “Well, we aren’t going home any time soon. We should make the most of it.”
Kyle leaned his head into Stan’s shoulder. “I’d like to stay here for a second. I’m still too mad at that ass hole to “make the most of it”.”
Stan laughed. “Okay man.” He moved his arm over Kyle’s shoulder to comfort him.
***
“So why do you think Cartman locked us in here anyway?”
Kyle had flipped over on his back with his head in Stan’s lap, and Stan had turned to face Kyle. “Dude. You don’t know?”
“Uh, no.”
“He knows that we’re a thing. Or, he thinks we like each other, but don’t know it ourselves.”
Stan scratched his head under his hat. “I don’t understand.”
“Ugh. Remember how Tolkien and Nichole got locked in the locker room before they got together.”
“Oh my god, that was Cartman?” Stan looked baffled.
Kyle turn his head to look up at Stan. “Duh! Am I the only one who sees this crap?!”
“Dude, he thinks he’s a match maker.” Stan stared forward in thought before he started laughing.
“What’s so funny?”
“Dude! If he thinks we aren’t dating, but just like each other, we could totally fuck with him.”
Kyle took his hands out of his pockets and sat up. “Oh my god, yeah! When we get outta here we could like, pretend we got in a huge fight!”
“And then like, he’ll be all sad, but then, we could like, “make up” our differences or something when only he’s looking, and when he tries to tell everyone, he’ll look crazy!”
“We would just be fueling a made up story for him, haha! Throwing him for loops for no reason.” Kyle turned to face Stan sitting criss cross. “No but actually, if we fake fight, he would think that it’s all his fault—“ Kyle gasped cutting himself off. “Stan, I just remembered something.”
“What?”
“I remember Cartman trying to get other people together. He like, left gifts on their doorstep. If he did the same for us, we could get a tone of stuff just from him thinking he fucked up, and he needs to “fix us”.” Kyle put both his hands on Stan’s shoulders. “We could so take advantage of this. Of him.”
Stan breathed an airy laugh. “You’re getting way too into this idea.”
“Well he deserves it.” Kyle let go of Stan’s shoulders and leaned forward a little with his arms around his stomach. “Man, I’m really hungry.”
“Well why don’t we go look for some food. I bet someone left a granola bar here or something.” Stan stood up and helped Kyle do the same.
Turned out Cartman left a survivable amount of food on the counter with the sinks. There was a party style cheese and cracker platter, a two liter bottle of soda and one of water, two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, and a variety of other snacks. And the majority of it was kosher for Kyle. Next to all the food there was even blankets, and a sleeping bag. Kyle groaned when he realized Cartman was really pushing it by only leaving one.
“There’s some stuff under the bench too.” Stan picked up a bottle of massage oil and two candles.
“Aww, sick dude!” Kyle recoiled in disgust. “What does he think this is? A fan-fiction?”
***
“Okay, uh, ‘E’.” Kyle guessed. The boy’s had started a game of hang man on the white board to pass the time while eating. Kyle sat on a bench while Stan stood at the board.
“Yup.” Stan marked an ‘E’ within the blanks.
“I got a guess. It says ‘I love you.’”
“How are you so good at this?”
“Well, ‘cause you pick easy stuff.” Kyle stood up and took the marker from Stan. “Sit down. Watch this.” Kyle drew just over twenty blanks on the board.
“Dude, I’m not guessing all that.”
Kyle spun around with his hands on his hips. “Guess you’ll never know what it said.”
Don’t take the bait. “Yeah, guess not.”
Kyle groaned. “It said, “Stan Marsh is a total gaywad.””
Stan laughed as he flattened his back on the bench. “Knew you were gonna tell me anyway.”
Kyle flopped over Stan’s middle with the energy of a dog who didn’t know they were too big to sit on a lap. “Ugh, I’m so bored! There’s nothing to do and who knows what time it is.” Kyle rubbed his face into Stan’s stomach.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“Smelling you.” He faced Stan who looked a little silly trying to lift his head to look back. “And itching my face. What, am I not allowed?”
Stan’s head bumped the back of the bench. “Shameless. Have you no shame?”
The weight on Stan jolted up. “Eww!”
“What!”
“Your stomach made a gross noise.”
Stan lied his head back down, holding his laughter in his grin. “Had me thinking you saw a bug or something.” He moved his arms with the expressions from his words. “Something serious.”
“Talk to me, Stan. Tell me a story. Come on, help me pass the time.”
“You see, this is the problem with boyfriends-“
“Excuse me?”
“-Always nagging you to talk, making you text back.” Stan sat up and mockingly flapped his hands like mouths. “Stan, talk to me, sit with me at lunch. It’s valentines day Stan! You didn’t get me anything?”
Stan was clearly joking around. Kyle and him weren’t like a stereotypical couple in most everyday situations. If anything, the thing that made their relationship work was their pre established friendship, so they didn’t feel the need to always do all the romantic crap like ‘regular’ couples. Kyle knew that, even though doing the romantic crap was nice sometimes.
Kyle flipped a hand over his face, playing along. The sun, (or more like buzzing school lights), was clearly getting to him. “Oh, Wendy was right. Stan Marsh is so inconsiderate! He doesn’t love me! I can’t stand it anymore! He thinks talking to me is too much to ask!”
They burst out laughing at each other.
“But seriously Stan,” Kyle gripped at Stan’s shirt over dramatically. “I’m going to die of boredom!” He flopped down on the ground, dead.
“Okay alright.” Stan met Kyle at the wall and flattened his back against it in thought. “Well… “
“You got nothing, huh?”
“S’not that! I share everything with you anyways and… wow, maybe my life is just really boring.”
“I swear, I just saw your life flash before your eyes in the span of a second. Sad.”
“Well let’s see you tell me a story.”
Kyle came up empty handed.
'Ugh, this is gonna be a long night!” Kyle slumped.
***
“Okay, I got something.”
Kyle opened his eyes from Stan’s lap, whose hands were reaching under his hat, intertwined with his red hair. “What.”
“You have diabetes right?” To which Kyle attempted to nod without disturbing Stan’s hands too much. “How come I never see you like, injecting insulin? Or like, checking your blood sugar and stuff.”
“Dude, who do you think I am, Scott Malkinson?"
“Well dude! You have diabetes, don’t you?”
“Yeah, type two. Only like, ten percent of people with type two need prescription insulin.”
“Oh…”
There was a long silence.
“…Well now I just feel stupid.” And Kyle chuckled.
“Okay well fine. Lemme ask you something and then you can call me stupid.”
Stan looked down waiting so Kyle continued. “Okay, how come you always would like, vomit when you saw Wendy or when you see me?” He paused in thought. “Well, not as much anymore, but I think you get me.”
“Oh, I thought it was obvious. I have CVS.”
“Huh? Dude, CVS is a pharmacy.”
“No, Dumbass! CVS stands for cyclical vomiting syndrome.”
Kyle blushed lightly in embarrassment. “Oh, well I have no idea what that is.”
“Neither does like, anyone else. But basically it means that I sometimes have vomiting episodes that are mostly caused by emotions. Nervousness and excitement are the two biggest feelings that caused it, since they’re so related. So when it came to you or other people I liked, I would throw up, ‘cause people like you would make me feel like that.”
“You don’t vomit around me anymore.” Kyle sat up on his elbows seeming genuinely offended.
“Dude, I think you would be glad I’m not literally barfing in your face.” Stan took his hand out of Kyle’s hair and poked him in the forehead with his index finger, pushing him back into his lap. “Do you realize how silly you sound?”
“Well then why?”
“CVS is mostly only common in kids. It kinda faded when I got older I guess.” Stan leaned his head into the wall and looked at the ceiling in remembrance. “The last time I remember vomiting over my emotions was when I was trying to confess to you. So, I guess only things my mind considers really intense causes vomiting episodes.”
Kyle sat up from Stan’s lap as he continued to think. Gravity brought Stan’s hands and Kyle’s hat into Stan’s lap as Kyle got up. Stan was too busy in thought that he barely noticed Kyle hover his body over him. Kyle’s knees placed themselves outside of Stan’s, and his hand’s pushed flat against the cold white painted brick, successfully holding himself up while trying to make himself look taller over him. Stan was too busy mumbling to himself with the faded memories of the true last time he experienced a vomiting episode, that he only noticed the position Kyle had put himself in when one of his red curly hairs itched his nose from above.
His face was mere inches away.
“Something like this. Does this make you nervous?” He asked with genuine curiosity. Like he wasn’t scared or the slightest bit stirred about being so close you could feel a breath. And all so suddenly.
Kyle pushed one hand off the wall to push some hair out of his face before planting it in a new position on Stan’s shoulder. Stan followed the movement. Kyle had him basically boxed him in.
“Well—“
“Or excited at all?”
Stan’s face was beaming red as he closed his lips in a line. He couldn’t stare Kyle in the eyes or he might actually vomit. But it wasn’t any better when his eyes landed on the hand pressed on his shoulder.
“Well, I mean, yeah, but, um, like I said, it uh, doesn’t really happen as much anymore.”
Kyle was putting on his best poker face, but he would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little pink out of the same emotions Stan was feeling. “Oh, so, it’s fine that I’m this close?” He asked with a little snark.
When Stan didn’t reply, Kyle went on to drag his fingertips from Stan’s shoulder up his neck into a light hold on his chin. “And this. This would also be fine?”
Stan took all this stalling as Kyle wanting to ask for permission. “Yeah, i-it’s okay.”
Both boys were fighting a smile when Kyle finally leaned into Stan. It only took a moment for both to soften their lips in a kiss that seemed unsure, but wanting.
Stan’s arm was making its way back to Kyle’s hair, but before he could make it, Kyle softly pulled away. Stan’s arm was left frozen in the air, stuck in its path. The kiss couldn’t have lasted for more than four seconds, but the couple felt satisfied.
Kyle looked down at Stan’s attempted journey to his hair. “What is your obsession with my hair?” He asked with a grin.
It was then that Stan could look up and soak Kyle in. Every detail and small imperfection. Like how his green eyes always carefully dragged over the small details, or how there were extremely light freckles just barely visible on his cheeks from the sun, or scars that finally seemed to be fading from adventurous or horrid experiences past, or the way his hair was misshapen because he would always wear his hat—
“Stan?”
Stan turned to his left and threw up on the tile.
“Sick dude!”
“I’m sorry, you’re just really pretty.” He said wiping his lips with his thumb. “Can you let me up, I need a sink.”
“You ruined the moment.” Kyle joked.
“Well you were complaining about how I “didn’t vomit for you” anymore, so are you happy?”
“No.” Kyle laughed out a sigh while picking up his hat that was left on the floor. He promptly pulled it back on. “That was kinda gross.”
“You’re just a hypocrite.”
***
Kyle found himself back at the whiteboard, his math book on the floor as he used the bigger space to work. He also liked showing off to Stan how much he knew, even though Stan didn’t have a clue what was happening.
“Out of everything you could do in the locker room, you choose homework.” Stan squished his head in his hands on the bench as he watched Kyle do Lord knows what. How could an equation which was missing numbers make a graph?
“Well what else was I gonna do?” He bit his lip as he tried to multitask talking and finding the graphs asymptotes. “Plus why do it later when I have time to do it now?”
“What are you even doing?”
“Finding the asymptotes and x and y intercepts.” He said matter of factly.
“Dude, huh?”
Kyle sighed. “Want me to explain it to you?”
“Sure, I guess.”
Kyle turned back around and began talking, walking through the process of every little thing needed to graph. He dragged the marker here and there, taking numbers from the top and bottom half of the equation and plugged them into formulas that Stan couldn’t comprehend how or why they were needed.
Kyle explained every little thing, why he plugged in zero for this, why the answers he got equaled points on the graph, but it wouldn’t have mattered. Stan wasn’t even listening. Well, he was, but it went right past him. If he’d been animated, the words would’ve been going through his head, and little hearts appearing and popping above his head would have filled in the noise, replacing Kyle and the dotting of the marker.
“—So it would probably look like this. I mean, I’d check my work, but, I don’t have my phone.” Kyle turned back to Stan staring up at him like a lost puppy.
“God you’re just— you’re- you’re so smart. And cool you’re like, you’re just.” Stan stumbled trying to find a better word but failed. “You’re just so cool man. I love you.”
“Stan, were you even listening?”
Stan turned and scoffed, like he wasn’t the one in the wrong. “Dude, just take my compliment!”
“The best word you could come up with to tell me you love me was “cool”.” Kyle smirked.
“Well like- but it’s true!”
Kyle sighed. “Thank’s Stan. You’re cool too.”
“Say “I love you.” Back!”
“I love you too.”
…
“Can I have a hug?”
“Huh, why?”
Stan rolled his eyes. “‘Cause I love you! Duh!”
Kyle turned around and opened his arms. “Knock yourself out.”
Stan flung his arms over Kyle’s shoulders.
“Whoa dude, I’ll still be here tomorrow!” Kyle laughed.
Stan didn’t respond. Instead, he reached his hands under the back of Kyle’s hat. He tugged a specific thread of hair that made Kyle twitch in surprise.
“Gah! Seriously Stan, what is your obsession with my hair?”
“Dunno… just like it.”
Kyle pushed Stan away at his cheeks. “Okay, that’s enough.”
“Aw, how come you get to call all the shots?”
“Wait a minute…” Kyle pressed Stan’s cheeks again.
“What are you doing?”
Kyle lightly slapped him.
“Ow! Kyle!”
“Dude, you are really sunburnt!”
“Yeah, I’m outside every day for football. Of course I’m gonna be burnt.”
Kyle mumbled about Stan not wearing sunscreen then went to look around for a bottle of aloe vera. He also complained about how his skin would blister and peel and he couldn’t stand to look at him if it looked that gross. Stan rolled his eyes.
Stan sat down again at the wall, and Kyle straddled his legs with a glob of aloe in his hands. “Hold still.”
“I could do it myself, you know?”
“Nah, you’d do it wrong.” And Stan scoffed. Kyle scolded him for moving.
Kyle pushed the product into a thin layer on his cheeks, and the rest of the residue he wiped on Stan’s ears, which he found to be peeling disgustingly.
“Okay that should- wait.” Kyle took off Stan’s hat and ruffled his hair, and peeling it back to see his forehead. “Nope, you’re all good.”
“Forehead reveal!”
Kyle snickered.
“Well, if you’re done, can I get up now?”
Kyle continued to poke, prod, squish, and stretch Stan’s face. “You wear makeup?”
“Yeah.” He glanced away. “Well, only like, my brows and cover up. Why, does it suck?”
“I mean, I guess I wouldn’t know. I think you look nice all the time.” Stan smiled at that compliment.
“I think you would look good with some blush.” Stan dramatically pushed Kyle up so he could get to his bag.
“You’re gonna do my makeup?” Kyle dragged his hands across his face at the thought of foreign powders and products caking it.
“Yeah!”
Kyle never thought that Stan would be one to do his makeup, but the more he thought about it, Stan did learn how to put on eyeliner from the goth kids a while back.
“Wait, you’re not gonna make me look goth, are you?” Kyle sat down when Stan came back with two small things in his hand.
“No, it wouldn’t fit you. If you were gonna do anything out of the ordinary, the only thing I could see maybe fitting you, is scene style.”
“What the hell is that?”
Stan hesitated, wondering if he should start a big conversation. “It’s hard to explain.”
This time around, Stan was straddling Kyle’s legs, and honestly, he felt a little flustered about it. Never did he think he would be bent over his boyfriend, (and best friend, because if your boyfriend isn’t also your best friend, what are you doing?) trying to put makeup on him while being locked in the school’s locker room.
Stan packed a small pad with pink tint but Kyle was already tense. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna load your face, just adding one thing.”
“Okay.”
Kyle assumed Stan knew what he was doing, that every pat and stroke across the apples of his cheeks were deliberate. In reality, Stan was just dragging around until Kyle looked right. But he thought he did a good job, because when he stopped, he couldn’t stop looking at him.
“God, don’t tell me I look hideous.”
“No! No you don’t, I just… Hold still.” He turned and picked up a tube of mascara. “Can I try one more thing?”
“What is it.”
“This.” Stan held up the wand out of the tube. “It goes on your eyelashes.”
“No way man! You’re gonna stab my eye!”
“Can you just hold still?”
Stan ended up pushing Kyle onto the floor. He had to press his chest flat against his to hold him down, and keep his left hand pressing Kyle’s face at his forehead and chin to keep him still. Stan could feel Kyle’s heart beat pushing into his chest from below.
“Get off!”
“I just wanna see! It won’t hurt, just blink when I tell you to.”
“Ugh!”
When Stan finished, he realized how close he was. His lips were two inches away from Kyle’s nose. And when he did realize, he was quick to get off his chest, but he stayed straddling his legs. He was even more flushed when he saw his hand at doing Kyle’s makeup.
“You gonna stare forever? Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”
Stan had never been more mad that he didn’t have his phone. “Kyle, you look, like, really pretty.”
Kyle looked away, mumbling a thank you. “Could you just get off me please?”
“Oh, yeah, sorry.” All while Stan moved, he never stopped looking at Kyle. He wondered all the possibilities he might have with this whole makeup thing. One idea stuck out the most. Stan really wanted to kiss Kyle with lipstick on.
Oh, when put like that he felt silly, and maybe a little gross. So instead he opted for staring at Kyle’s face until Kyle was really blushing. He had never felt so attracted to a person.
“Stan, you can stop staring now.”
“But I don’t want to. I can’t take a picture, and you’ll never let me do this again.”
“Ugh, fine!” Kyle pushed his face way to close to Stan. “Get an eye full!”
Stan laughed and pushed him back. “Wait, could you take off your hat?”
Kyle rolled his eyes and complied, and it looked like Stan had seen an angel for the first time.
“I wanna kiss you.” Stan blurted out.
“Okay.” And Kyle quickly leaned in and gave Stan a peck on the lips. “There!”
“No that’s not- I mean-“
“What?”
Stan finally ripped his gaze away “No it’s nothing.”
“Dude, tell me.”
“It’s nothing. I swear!”
“Oh, so you just had to force mascara onto my face, but whatever this is, is too much to tell?”
“Ah! It’s so embarrassing!” Stan turned away from Kyle. “I wanna kiss you with lipstick on! There!”
“Oh…” Kyle thought. “That sounds kinda… cool.”
Stan looked back. They didn’t say anymore, just looking at each other with their lips in a line. It was silent when Stan got up to grab lipstick from his bag. “I only have black.”
“Goth bitch.”
Stan rolled his eyes. When he sat back down he forcefully pecked Kyle’s lips first, his forehead, then his cheek, his opposite jawbone, then one on his collar bone.
“Woah dude.” Kyle chuckled.
“S-Sorry!”
“No, it’s alright. I kinda like it there.”
They looked up at each other. Stan’s lipstick was smeared and Kyle’s face was covered in marks that progressively faded. Kyle broke the silence by yawning. They both quietly agreed it was time for bed.
***
In the corner of the room by the heater, Stan laid out the sleeping bag and pillows. Kyle was washing his face (to Stan’s dismay), but he decided to keep the mark on his collar bone.
After Kyle went to the end of the hall to turn off the light, he stumbled through the dark, feeling the walls as he went.
“Ah fuck!”
Stan jolted up. “What, what!?”
Kyle sucked air in through his teeth as he stumbled on top of Stan. “Hit my shin…”
“Dude… can’t breath…”
“I like, full force slammed it into a bench when I was walking. Shit.”
Stan wrapped his arms around Kyle, who didn’t hug back because his arms were at his sides. “Aww, you poor baby. But seriously Kyle, your chin is stabbing my chest.”
He mumbled a sorry as he moved up to lay flat on top of Stan like a board, head in his neck. Stan’s hands immediately felt their way for Kyle’s hair.
“Stan…” Kyle was readying a complaint
“What?”
Kyle just grumbled in protest of Stan’s hands but quickly calmed when Stan filled his hands. After feeling a hand full he let loose and twisted groups of curls around his middle and index fingers. He even used his thumbs and other free fingers to massage at Kyle’s lower head and neck while he tugged on the strands. “Nothing…”
“Feel okay?”
Kyle could only respond with a sigh. As much as he sometimes hated his hair, he craved Stan’s hands tangling them both closer. He loved the repetitive feeling as Stan would go in a pattern when playing with his hair. Pull, twist, pull, twist. Or when rubbing his lower scalp. Rub, scratch, rub, scratch. He felt embarrassed when he couldn’t help sighing deeply or his back twitching when Stan did something that felt particularly nice. Sometimes Kyle would accidentally groan which would really make Stan’s heart beat.
Stan smiled when he knew he made Kyle feel nice. He loved playing with his hair. It had the calming sensation of petting a cat that Stan easily got addicted to. He loved being able to pull Kyle closer at his head, and have his weight pushed so close, resting on his neck. But Stan was a bit greedy, and he wanted him closer.
“Get under the sleeping bag with me.”
Kyle mumbled. “No, s’too small…”
“Yeah but I wanna hold you. Come on.”
Kyle had to reach up and grab Stan’s hands away from his head to comfortably get in the sleeping bag with Stan. Kyle was thankful to see it was a wider sleeping bag than he had originally thought, so he would be able to breathe tonight. The second Kyle slipped in right next to Stan, he grabbed him by the wrists and put his hands back into his hair. With his desire to be closer to him, he also lied back on top of him and made every effort to tie their legs in knots. Kyle hooked his arms under Stan’s and reached for his hair. Stan assumed that Kyle would have rubbed his hair back, but it just wasn’t long enough, and Kyle seemed to be too sleepy.
Kyle could feel himself falling asleep but there was one thing stopping him. “Dude, why is you heart beating so fucking fast?” He whispered
At this comment, Stan became self conscious of his breathing, worrying that is was too fast. Stan whispered back. “I’m sorry, I’m just really excited. Maybe a little nervous but excited. I love you.”
Stan could feel Kyle roll his eyes. “I love you too, but this isn’t the first time we’ve slept together.”
Stan refrained from telling a dirty joke. “Yeah, but, it’s ‘cause I love you. I’m always excited around you.”
Kyle thought for a moment. They had literally pulled themselves as close as they possibly could. They had both made every effort to have every part of themselves feeling the other, reaching for limbs and strands they wouldn’t usually, and Stan was so excited and in love with the boy above him, that even though he sees him every day, and hugs him all the time, his heart was beating out of his chest like he had finally reached him for the first time when they were supposed to be trying to fall asleep.
Kyle’s heart started pounding too. And they could both feel it. Both their chest were pressed flat and flushed together. They could feel their heart beats sync up, alternate, and re-sync. They both pulled each other as close as humanly possible. They strengthened and flexed all their muscles together, tensed their hug so strongly, like it was the last hold they would ever have of each other, like they wouldn’t see each other tomorrow. The pressure of their embrace made their love feel like a tight bubble, like nothing else mattered, and they didn’t let go for a long time.
They finally eased back a bit when their strength grew tired.
“I love you so much, Stan.”
“I love you too, Kyle.”
They both said their goodnights as Kyle fell asleep first, Stan’s hands lulling him to sleep all the way.
***
Stan’s calmly woke up first. Both boy’s almost never would’ve woken up if it wasn’t for the tinny window at the top of the wall that touched the ceiling. It let just enough sunlight in to soak the room.
Stan yawned as he took in his five senses. For one, his mouth tasted bad because he didn’t have his toothbrush to brush his teeth. Next, he processed the light snoring and pressure on his chest. When he looked down he could see Kyle’s hair, all messy from the probable light movement in their sleep. He could smell his hair, and he blushed when he realized.
As much as he didn’t want to wake Kyle, he was drooling on his chest, which was incredibly gross. He lightly ruffled his hair to wake him up.
“Wake up, Kyle.”
Kyle had moved a bit in his sleep. He wasn’t on top of Stan anymore, and to replace their legs being intertwined, Kyle right leg was resting over Stan, and his right arm loosely over his chest. He pulled everything away and into a big stretch when Stan gently woke him.
“What time is it?” Kyle asked
“Hell if I know. It could be late because who knows when light finally hits that small window.”
They both sighed. “I didn’t think you were the type to drool, dude. Thought it would be me.”
Kyle looked up. “Oh crap, I’m sorry man.”
“It’s fine.” Stan wanted to say something sappy like, ‘it’s cute’, but that seems a little gross.
“Can we go back to huddling? We’re probably gonna be here for a while.”
“Sure. Yeah, it’s gonna be till the football team gets here.”
“When’s that?”
Stan thought. “Well, we need to be at the school two hours early for warm ups and other pre game crap, so probably 12 or 11:30.”
“So we have some time, because my internal clock usually wakes me up at 9 on weekends.”
“Time for what?”
Kyle climbed back on top of Stan, like the position they were in last night. “Just to lie here a while.” Kyle pressed a peck on Stan’s cheek.
“When did you get so touchy and sentimental?”
“When did you get to be such and ass hole?” Kyle poked his nose. “Can I not kiss you?”
Stan rolled his eyes. “Whatever.” And he leaned up to pull Kyle’s lips down to his.
This kiss was longer, and wearier than their previous. Stan’s heart started to beat a little faster, nervous that he felt unexperienced. But it didn’t matter. Even if both of them didn’t know what they were doing, having such long and foreign touches felt so personal. Neither wanted to brake away. Kyle pulled Stan closer by grabbing his cheeks with his palms, and Stan reached up for Kyle’s hair again.
Stan’s hair adventures didn’t last long before Kyle broke the kiss. “You just wanna kiss me to have an excuse to feel my hair.”
“What’s so bad about that?”
“Didn’t you have your fill last night?”
Stan laughed as he pulled himself in again, but stopped right before they could touch.
“What?” Kyle asked.
“I hear someone. I hear walking.”
Kyle stopped to listen. “I hear it too.”
They both stopped what they were doing to look at themselves, and then quickly scramble to get each other out of their sleeping position.
“Hide the sleeping bag! We don’t want people thinking we did this on purpose!” Kyle whisper shouted.
“I’ll do that. You put on your jacket!”
“Why?”
Stan pointed to his own collar bone to remind Kyle of a kiss mark that was still there. They both blushed hard.
By the time everything was cleaned up, Stan went up to the door and started pounding. “Hello?! Is someone here?!”
There was clear mumbling heard on the other side of someone distant down the hall. They seemed to be approaching. “Who said that?”
“It’s Stan! Stan Marsh! Kyle and I got locked in the locker room!”
“Stan?! Hold on, it’s me, Clyde! The team just got here, I’ll go get the coach! He’s gonna have to call someone to get the chain of the door!” Clyde could be heard running away.
“Thanks dude!” Kyle chimed in. “Wait, chain?”
Stan turned around and sighed with Kyle. “So… what do you want to do after this?”
Kyle thought for a moment. “Remember how we wanted to fuck with Cartman?”
***
The cops had been called and Kyle and Stan had been given a warm drink and blankets while they waited outside for the investigation to finish. Cartman was lurking in the bushes, waiting for the couple to do anything. Luckily, the boy’s had seen him while they were being walked out, so they decided to improv a fake argument.
Their improvised argument had a lot of flaws. There was no clear spark, and there was a lot of ‘you did’, and ‘you said’, but it was believable enough for Cartman, as his cries could be heard from the bush, screaming lots of ‘no’s and ‘why’s. He was blaming some kind of “cupid me”, which Kyle almost broke character and laughed at. By the time Cartman ran home, Stan and Kyle couldn’t stop laughing.
“Hey, our parents will probably feel bad for us.” Kyle looked up from his cup of hot chocolate. “Do you wanna see if we can guilt trip them into giving us money to go do some fun stuff?”
“Yeah dude!”