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“Hey, guys,” Stan greets, oblivious to the fact that the other two have been waiting for over 20 minutes for him to log in. It was only Kyle and Cartman, so of course they were both on mute with their video turned off.
Disappointed and a little confused, Stan checks the chat. There were a few swears and slurs thrown around in there. He sighs.
“Hey, Stan,” Kyle says, happier than expected. His smiling face pops up immediately, giving Stan a slight jumpscare. “You there? You look a little…”
“Laggy,” Cartman finishes in annoyance, rolling his eyes. “How many times do I have to tell you? Set up your damn hotspot, Stanley. Your dad’s wi-fi is shit.”
“It’s not—” right at that moment, his screen freezes. Kyle face-palms and Cartman groans, complaining about how this always happens and we’re never gonna fuckin play, goddamn. “—that bad!”
Based on Kyle’s tired expression that he inherited from his mother, Stan figures his statement wasn’t as true as he thought. He decides to change the subject. “Anyways, where’s Kenny? I thought he was off today?”
“He is,” Kyle says casually. “He’s, uhh…he’s taking a shower.”
Both Kenny and Kyle left South Park for college and even went to the same university: the University of Colorado. Everyone told Kyle to aim higher, and everyone told Kenny he wouldn’t be able to afford it. Against all odds, they both went anyway. Kenny got a decent handful of scholarships and was currently studying biotechnology.
Kyle, on the other hand, didn’t have the smoothest time going to CU. He didn’t want to go into law like his father—instead taking interest in education and psychology. He’s majoring in clinical psychology now, and despite arguing that it was ranked in the top 20, his parents are still short-spoken with him to this day.
“Like…in your dorm?” Stan asks slowly. When Kyle nods, short and quick, Stan raises an eyebrow. “Dude?”
Domestic much? Why is he using your shower?
“Dude,” Kyle warns.
Don’t start this right now.
Stan forms a thin line with his lips and looks everywhere except his screen.
“Are we gonna play or not?” Cartman asks, the sound of his fist hitting the desk playing before his facecam could match up. His wi-fi isn’t too good itself considering he’s literally in a basement. “I don’t care where Kenny’s taking a shower as long as he rinses his fleas off. I thought we had these calls to play Fortnite?”
“Yeah, but we also don’t see each other anymore, dude,” Stan argues, adjusting in his chair. His eyes look off to the side, telling Kyle that he’s pulling the game up in a different window. “Give us a chance to catch up.”
“It’s not our fault you're living out of your mom’s basement without a promising future,” Kyle adds smugly, also pulling up the game. Cartman scoffs and sputters for a good enough comeback, but when he has nothing, he just pulls the 2000s move: slurs. Like usual.
“Says the fag living with his poor as fuck boyfriend,” he snarks, leaning back in his chair.
“What?” Kyle and Stan say at the same time, with different inflections. Stan is confused. Kyle is shocked.
“Oh, sorry,” Cartman apologizes with fake sincerity. “Your boy crush.”
“How did you—”
“Aww, no way you’re starting without me!” Kenny asks, walking into the room with only a towel wrapped around his waist. Kyle’s eyes widen, and he immediately rushes to turn his camera off. Kenny’s familiar laugh rings through the call. “You didn’t have to do that, dude! You guys have seen me wearing less.”
“That doesn’t matter! You can’t just walk in naked and expect me to leave the camera on!” Kyle shoots back, voice awfully high-pitched—a tell-tale sign that he is getting flustered. Stan and Cartman stare at each other. There’s not much more to look at, so they could only assume that’s what the other is looking at. “Kenny— no! Stop! At least— put some damn pants on, at least, dude!”
Stan checks his watch awkwardly, not really looking at the time. Soon enough, the camera comes back on and Kyle’s face is beet red. Kenny is wearing a large t-shirt that looks strangely enough like Kyle’s old Radiohead band tee. Yeah, he thinks, we got it at that concert back in junior year.
“We compromised on a t-shirt and boxers.” Kenny grins, wet and shaggy hair covering most of his eyes. Kyle hides his face with his hands in embarrassment. “My apartment had a rat problem, and Kyle said it was too bad for me to stay there so he practically forced me to live with him.”
Kenny drapes his arm over Kyle and drags him into a side hug. “I guess he was right, though, because they totally chewed through my laptop, those little bastards. My new one should be coming in next week. I’ll be able to come in clutch then, don’t worry.”
“Please, Kenny. You always die first,” Cartman chides through the sound of him crunching on chips. He is ignored.
“Dude!” Stan whisper-shouts, as if the others won’t hear him. Kyle just shrinks in on himself.
You fucking invited him to live with you?! How hard is a damn confession, idiot?
“Dudeee,” Kyle drawls, although muffled through his hands. Kenny pats his head comfortingly, but it is swatted away.
I already told you. I don’t wanna talk about it.
“Dude,” Stan concludes, shaking his head in disbelief. Well, too bad because we are so talking about this after the call.
“Dude.” I hate you so much.
“Bruh,” Cartman groans. When did the only people I hang out with turn into a bunch of gay-ass fags?
Kyle Broflovski has had a crush on Kenny McCormick ever since his gay awakening in 9th grade when he took weight training as an elective. Kenny had also taken that class, and the two bonded. They also compared their progress, which was about 40% of the cause of Kyle’s crush. Kenny managed to develop muscle in all the right places—all he was missing was something around his ribcage, which was still imprinted against his skin when he stretched. Kyle almost felt selfish for sharing his lunch just so Kenny could build something there. It was like he was trying to create his perfect physique.
Never mind the fact that Kenny lost almost all his muscle after he dropped the elective the next year and Kyle was still smitten for the boy.
And then they went to the same university. It was like their roles swapped. Kenny became the academic prodigy for being the first to go to college in his family, and Kyle became the disappointment for not going into law. It was hard for him to accept, but Kenny helped him through it during orientation week.
In more ways than just talking.
Kyle isn’t really sure what they are. Kenny is bisexual and Kyle is gay, so if either of them were incredibly pent-up, then they knew who to go to. But they never put a label on it. Not friends-with-benefits. Not fuck-buddies. They just called each other ‘dude’ and ‘bro’ and moved on. It was honestly more frustrating than the months they would go without sex before caving and just fucking each other.
Now, Kenny’s living with him. They eat dinner together. They watch shows together on the same couch but on opposite ends. They share the only shower in their dorm room. Kenny crashes on the couch, but some of the best nights of Kyle’s college life have been when they end up falling asleep together in his bed.
Stan always complains that he’s never told Kenny anything, but what is he even supposed to say? ‘Hey, man. I saw you shirtless for a whole year in high school and, now, all I want is to see you shirtless every morning and make you coffee because I know just how you like it—2 and half spoons of sugar with a shot of vodka because you're so weird and yet I am head over heels for you and I want nothing more than to call you mine. Please date me. I’m fucking desperate for you.’
Yeah, right. That’s so dumb.
Besides—Kenny may be bisexual, but he’s way more into girls. Every time they watch a movie, he’s always too entranced in the main female lead to see Kyle staring at him in the blue light of the TV. He’s always too busy ranting about any girl he sits next to in a class to notice Kyle’s seething envy. Kenny’s only bi-sexual. He’s probably straight in the aspect of a romantic relationship.
Their game comes to a close after their fifth loss of the night—mainly because Liane came downstairs complaining about Cartman’s loud shouting and swearing for the third time of the night. He flipped her off but decides he was tired enough to call it a night anyway. Stan agrees with a yawn, and Kyle looks behind him to where Kenny had laid down in his bed, watching something on his phone.
“Yeah,” Kyle says, half-heartedly listening to the conversation in favor of staring at Kenny. He still doesn’t notice. Tonight’s gonna be the night. It has to be, Kyle thinks. He can’t let this eat at him anymore. It’s not healthy. “Same time next week?”
“Ugh, I have a stupid job interview, so we’ll have to do it on Wednesday instead,” Cartman complains, his eyes off to the side as he shuts down the game and starts closing everything out.
“Sounds good to me,” Stan concurs. Kyle nods, but he can’t hide anything from his best friend. “You good, dude?”
“Huh? Oh, uhhh…yeah,” Kyle says carefully with a slow nod of his head. His heart is racing at the thought of talking to Kenny about his feelings, but he tries to play it off. “I…I will be.”
“Okay,” Stan drawls suspiciously. Cartman has already left at this point—with a short ‘night’ before disappearing. “If you need to talk, just text me. I’m always up.”
“Yeah, I will if I need to.” This could always go badly. Please don’t let this go badly, he prays.
“Awesome.” Stan smiles, hands placed on his headphones like he’s preparing to take them off. “Goodnight, dude. Text me tomorrow at least.”
“Got it. Night.”
Stan’s icon disappears and Kyle ends the call. He removes his headphones, wrapping the cord up and tucking them into their designated drawer. He carefully and quietly pulls the drawer below it open, taking and pocketing a condom in his basketball shorts. After a few deep breaths, he stands up and walks over to the bed.
“Admit it. Y’all suck without me,” Kenny chuckles, not looking at Kyle.
“Yeah, I guess so,” Kyle breathes. Kenny looks up at this.
“You alright, man?”
Kyle doesn’t answer. He simply climbs on top of Kenny’s lap, pushing his hands up his shirt and feeling along his ribcage. It’s less prominent than freshman year, but it’s still there. Kyle wants to fix it. Kyle wants to make it go away.
Kenny seems to think he gets the memo. He smirks, reaching and pulling Kyle into a kiss. He whispers, “I know what you want,” smiling against Kyle’s lips. It’s contagious, and it calms his nerves just a little until he thinks about the idea of losing this all because of a stupid choice. A stupid three-word phrase.
But it could also make it even better if he plays his cards right.
I love you. It’s so quiet, that he almost thinks it didn’t leave his lips until Kenny stops. With bated breath, his mind runs through every possible ending of this scenario. He tries to stick to the positives, but there are far too many negatives to keep him sane until Kenny finally answers.
“Seriously?” Kenny asks, but not in disgust like Kyle predicted. Not in anger or resentment. No. It’s excitement in his voice. “Like, for real?”
“I…uhh—” Kyle thought he’d thought of everything, but he didn’t expect this “—I mean, yeah. I kinda have since…like…9th grade. If you can believe that.” He laughs awkwardly, hoping Kenny will follow suit.
“Dude,” he laughs in disbelief. “I’ve liked you since middle school! This is fucking crazy.”
“Really?” Kyle thinks back to his middle school self with distaste—braces, the beginning of the worst acne he’s ever seen, never-cared-for-in-their-life curls, his horrible taste in fashion. What part of that was attractive enough to warrant a crush?
Kenny must’ve noticed his face because he laughs out loud. “I know, you’ve definitely gotten a glow-up over the years, so it sure didn't help with my obsession with you, but what can I say? You were nice to me. Not a lot of people were besides Butters, who wasn’t exactly my type.”
“And I was?”
“Are,” Kenny corrects with a dopey grin. Kyle’s face heats up at that. “I dunno. You’re smart, funny, quick witted, smokin’ hot—”
Kyle kisses him hard after that, pressing him into the sheets as he feels up along his torso. He expected a whole talk, possible crying and disappointment, or some kind of heartfelt moment. He didn’t realize that all it took was just saying it up front after barely making out with the person. Stan had told him not to do that, in fact. Well, this is Kenny McCormick we’re talking about. Kyle never would have seen this ending coming, but he couldn’t be happier. All he had left to do was to confirm it all.
“So,” he sighed, pulling away for a split-second, “dating?”
“Dating.” Kenny pulls him back down just as quickly as he had left, gripping at his shoulders like Kyle was going to slip out of his fingers. He kissed along his neck and collarbone. “I love you, too, Kyle.”
As for the rest of the night? Let’s just say—Kyle didn’t grab that condom for nothing that night.