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Stan had invited Kyle to go camping with him--without Cartman and Kenny, for once. It was nice. They could sit in happy silence, watching the water on Stark's Pond and basking in warm rays that filtered through the surrounding trees.
"This would be a nice place for a date," Stan blurted, hoping his voice didn't give away anything.
"Finding a place to go is the least of my problems."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Kyle let out a sigh.
"I'm not like you. I'm not...normal looking. All people see is my stupid red hair that won't ever look neat, and my nose--"
Stan turned to him and put his hand in Kyle's thick curls.
"Don't listen to all of Cartman's bullshit."
"He's not wrong, though."
"He's always wrong. Especially about this. Your unique look make you stand out and, well, handsome."
Kyle raised an eyebrow.
"Handsome? Come on, Stan. Don't lie."
"I'm not! Seriously, dude. You are, like, objectively." Stan grinned as the word reminded him of something. "Even Cartman couldn't deny that. Remember that time Cartman called you 'a handsome, soft Jew'?"
Kyle's eyes widened. That was the last place he expected a compliment from, and the sheer bizarreness of it made it more believable than the usual kind words Stan had to comfort him.
"Cartman? Seriously? I don't remember that. What the fuck does that even mean?"
Stan grinned.
"Well, it was in German. He said 'ein schöner sanfter Jud.' 'Schöner' means handsome, and 'safter' means soft."
Kyle's eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
"Soft? Does he mean I'm fat? Is he calling me fat?"
"No, Jesus Kyle! It means 'soft' or 'gentle', like you're kind-hearted or just... well, soft, like a cuddly teddy bear."
"So, according to Cartman, I'm a handsome and...soft? That's... unexpected. Not that I think I'm soft, either way."
Stan couldn't resist the opportunity and playfully tackled Kyle onto the soft grass.
"Well, Kyle, there's only one way to find out." Stan poked Kyle's side, tickling him lightly.
Kyle laughed, trying to wriggle free from Stan's hold.
"Hey, stop it, you goof!"
"Not until you agree."
"Fine, fine!" he said between laughs.
They both burst into laughter, blending with the gentle rustling of leaves, the breeze tickling the exposed skin where their shirts had ridden up, in contrast with the warmth where they were touching.
As their laughter subsided, Kyle couldn't help but feel a touch of intrigue.
"I still find it hard to believe Cartman would say something like that."
"Now do you believe it? Since you find it easier to believe insults from Cartman than me."
Maybe his features weren't that bad– they were part of what made him undeniably unique and, perhaps, even attractive to those who truly mattered. Those who would appreciate Kyle for who he was, like Stan.