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There was fog everywhere, engulfing everything that was at least 5 feet in front of him. Kyle runs into multiple buildings not really knowing where he was going exactly. Suddenly the setting changes, he’s in his best friend's house. Not the farm house he lives in now, but the house that resides next to his. Stan sits on the steps of the staircase, staring at him, or actually, Kyle can’t really make out his face that well. Is that even Stan? He steps closer to try and make out his face, stepping slowly as if going quickly will scare him off. Every time he gets closer, it seems like Stan just gets farther and farther. What was he doing exactly? Everything just seems fuzzier and fuzz—
Whenever I’m alone with you
You make me feel like I am home agai—
Kyle stirs and slams his hand down onto his phone that’s sitting on his nightstand, immediately recognizing the song he chose as a ringtone for a certain person. Reaching for his glasses to groggily place them onto his nose, Kyle blinks his eyes open the best he can. He can feel the exhaustion weighing down his eyelids as he reads the name flashing across his screen, “Staniel :P”. His eyebrows furrow as he moves to then read the time, 2:18 am, confusion and slight worry pooling into his mind. Kyle swiftly swipes to answer the call before it goes to voicemail.
“Stan?” His voice is full of drowsiness but he fights it to speak regardless.
“Hey. I- um..I know you hate when I call you super late but I didn’t really know who else to, like, call or whatever.”
Kyle stares at his nightstand when he hears Stan’s voice, it doesn’t sound like it normally does. That alone rings a couple of bells in his head.
“Dude are you okay?”
Silence. It takes a little while for Stan to speak again, although Kyle heard a couple of shuffles on the other side of the line, small sniffles too.
“Yea.”
“No.”
“I don’t really know.”
Kyle sits up in his bed, all his focus on his best friend on the other line now.
“Did somethin’ happen?”
Stan can be heard taking a deep shaky breath, a more audible sniffle.
“Got into an argument with my dad like- goddamnit.- like 15 minutes ago. He was blaming me because I didn’t do some random chore that only benefits him. I don’t even know why he’s still awake. He started on some stupid ramble on how I don’t help anyone and I just fuck off to your house. I was already having a bad night so I started yelling back. It turned into a shitty screaming match, which, y’know, hasn’t happened in a while. My mom told me to drop it for now since it’s so late but it was so-… I don’t know dude.”
There’s noises of things moving and falling, (are those footsteps?), in the background as he speaks with a fast and wavering tone. Like he’s been crying. Kyle realizes this after he’s done talking. Frankly it should’ve been obvious when he first heard the sniffles but Stan’s been somewhat sick with allergies for the past week, so he didn’t pay that much mind to it.
“Shit. M’sorry Stan. I would go pick you up, but ma’s car sounds loud as fuck when you start it. I’ll get in trouble if I go out this late.”
Kyle definitely hears footsteps and a shut of a door. What the fuck is he doing?
“It’s okay Ky. I’m sort of.. already on my way.”
“You’re walking here??” Kyle said that way too loud, hearing his dad cough faintly in the distance, but he really doesn’t want Stan walking at least 25 minutes to his house, in the snow.
“Yea. It’s not that far if I jog..”
Stan pauses for a few seconds like he’s contemplating something. Before Kyle can say anything he hears him again,
“Can I come over?”
Stan’s voice barely makes it through the line, quiet and hesitant as if he realized he kinda invited himself over without asking. Not that Kyle ever thought he needed to ask, his house is his second home, half of his clothes are in Kyle’s closet.
“Duh. Just don’t trip and die out there, text me when you’re here.”
Kyle responds in a similar tone, gentle but a smidge of playfulness sneaking through. He needs some type of normalcy to take place, even for a few seconds.
A breathy laugh flows through his ear a second later, followed up with another sniffle. It makes his heart flutter, just a tiny bit.
“Sure okay, you wish asshat. I’ll see you in a bit.”
The beep signaling the end of the call makes Kyle sigh and put his phone down next to him, running a hand through his messy and flattened curls before getting up to unlock his window. He jumps back into bed, staring at his wall covered with different posters and pictures of him and his friends. Blinking slowly, his vision focuses on a photobooth strip of him and Stan. He remembers that day clearly, most of his days with his best friend are easy to remember. Eventually the thoughts fade off into nothing.
•
Kyle shivers as he wakes up again. He doesn’t remember falling asleep nor there being a cold breeze. He hears the faint sound of crickets and trees rustling, yelling from god knows where, seemingly far from his house from how muffled it is. Every sound suddenly cuts off when his window slams shut. He barely takes in the figure in front of him, “Shit!” the figure curses, the loud noise fully waking Kyle up as he sits up quickly.
“My pants got stuck and the frame slipped from my hand! Sorry…” It’s Stan, he’s whispering but very loudly. So not really whispering. Kyle lets out a sigh of relief before urging his phone to turn on, it’s been 18 minutes. Did he actually run here?
“Dude. You scared me! Why didn’t you text me that you were here?” Kyle fixes his glasses, reaching over to switch his night lamp on.
“I did! Obviously you were busy drooling all over your pillows to notice by the looks of it.” A teasing smile graces Stan’s features.
“I wasn’t drooling dickhead.”
“I can see the stains on your pillow.”
“No you can’t.”
“Yes you can.”
“No you can’t.”
“Yes you c–“
“Jesus fuck! Okay yes I get it!” Now that his lamp is on, Kyle can clearly see Stan’s face. His eyes are puffy and red, slight tears still shining in them. Kyle’s demeanor softens a bit, staring at the other boy for a few seconds before asking, “You okay?”
Stan stands there, fidgeting with the ends of his jacket that’s unzipped. It takes him a second but eventually he shakes his head slowly, biting his lip like he’s holding back a sob.
Kyle’s seen this side of his best friend multiple times throughout their childhood, but Stan’s been doing so well recently it’s kinda worrying to see him this sad again. Kyle gets out of bed, walking over to him, placing his hands on his shoulders gently. He usually lets Stan initiate the hug, just in case he doesn’t actually want to. After a few seconds, Stan looks up and wraps his arms around Kyle’s neck, squeezing him like he was going to disappear if he let go.
“You said you were already having a bad day, anythin’ I can do to help?” His own arms go around Stan’s back, squeezing him in the same way to comfort him.
Ever since a particularly bad fight they had at the beginning of high school, Kyle’s go-to question was if there was anything he can help with. It was hard to figure out something that could work for both of them, countless arguments and words thrown around that hurt left them in a blank area, but in the end both boys realized they did and had to work together. Grow together. Stan began to be more open since then, trying his hardest to communicate with Kyle whenever he was feeling like shit. Kyle doing the same in turn, needing breaks, random phone calls, whatever he needed. Stan’s been doing extremely well for the past few months, happier and a lot brighter. It was slow and steady with rough patches and it might have something to do with his therapy sessions he’s gotten, although Kyle doesn’t hear about those too often, he seems better. So this current situation is a little concerning.
“Nuh uh. Just been feeling like shit for the past week, today was worse though. Not too sure why but, it really sucks feeling like that again. My dad yelling didn’t help either but, I started it.” Stan shrugs the best he can as he’s trembling slightly, speaking into the redhead's shoulder.
“I don’t really blame you for yellin’ though, he doesn’t hear you out most of the time. Or that’s what I get from what you tell me.” Kyle rubs gentle circles into his back, skin flushing from the contact, especially when he feels Stan lean into him more. “You wanna talk about how you’ve been feeling?”
Stan shakes his head, “Not really, or not now I guess.”
Kyle nods in turn. “Okay. Wanna stay the night and the rest of tomorrow? I can just tell ma’ you’re stayin’ once I wake up.”
“Please?” Stan’s voice sounds so vulnerable it makes Kyle bring him even closer into his embrace. They stay together for another couple of minutes, letting a comfortable silence settle. It's warm in his room, not enough to be a bother, but just enough to let the air be cozy and soothing. Kyle feels oddly giddy when he finally notices Stan’s sweater. It’s one of Kyle’s favorites that he let him borrow a week ago.
Eventually, Stan pulls away slightly. Kyle is only a bit disappointed at not having his scent close to him, the distinct smell of something so boyish that he can’t place a single fragrance note, makes a glowing warmth settle in his chest. Drawing himself out of his thoughts about the boy in front of him, he notices how Stan’s face is swept with a soft shade of pink, barely noticeable in the dull light coming from his lamp.
A small smile pulls at the redhead's lips, now curious as to why his face is flushed.
Stan makes eye contact, his blue eyes stark against the reddened whites of his eyes, brows pulling in. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
Kyle shakes his head with a snort. “No reason, go splash some water on your face or somethin’. You’re all sticky from crying.” He emphasizes his point by grabbing Stan’s face and shaking it.
“Agh—Let go of my face asshole!” The shorter boy laughs quietly, batting Kyle’s hands off of him before wandering over to the closet and kicking his shoes off in front of it, beginning to pull off his sweater, “You need to start wearing a shirt to bed by the way.”
Following Stan’s hands as they grab and rearrange clothing, it takes a beat for Kyle to register what he said.
“What? Why? You don’t wear a shirt to bed sometimes either?” Kyle’s confusion rings through his voice, watching Stan as he changes into a band tshirt and a pair of Kyle’s basketball shorts that sit low on his hips.
They’ve gotten used to being in the same room when they change. Truthfully, it’s nothing weird or unusual. It’s like a passing thought, no intent behind it. That’s just how they work, how they know they’re comfortable with each other.
“Because you’re like…” Stan waves his right hand in circles towards Kyle, gesturing to his torso. “Y’know?”
“No I don’t know.” Kyle has no idea what he’s trying to say.
Stan’s face is still pink as he turns back around and groans, “Nevermind.” He shuts the closet doors, walking towards the bedroom door to quietly walk out.
The small click of the door closing makes the room go eerily silent, leaving Kyle to sit and stare at it.
In the distance, Kyle can hear him go into the bathroom as he lays back on his bed, staring at the ceiling. He lets his eyes swirl the colors of the posters and ceiling to make shapes. His breathing syncs to the low sound of the heater starting up again, the blanket under him feeling warm, which eventually ends up back on top of him. Minutes pass as he waits for Stan to come back, his thoughts continue circulating around his best friend, going back to what he said earlier. What did he mean? He genuinely made no sense. Kyle’s never heard Stan complain about wearing a shirt to bed. Yea maybe sometimes he just gets a little warm if the heater is turned up high. It isn’t like Stan’s calling him ugly. He wouldn’t if he meant it seriously. Would he? God this position is so uncomfortable on his back—did Stan really subtly call him ugly?–Okay facing the wall is a lot better for his back—
Kyle snaps out of it once he hears the door behind him slowly creak open, hearing Stan’s whispering voice when he steps in. He’s talking to his mom. Or at least that’s what he’s assuming, considering that’s really the only person he can think of who’s Stan calling at this hour.
“Yes mama—I’m whispering because Kyle’s asleep already—Mom. I’m fine. Really, I’m just gonna crash here with Kyle and stay all day. I just need dad to calm down before I go back, he was clearly high and probably didn’t mean all the shit he said. Okay—yeah okay. I’m sorry for waking you up earlier with the yelling. I’ll see you when I get home, night mami, sleep well.”
Kyle’s assumption was right.
The faint beep, a few silent ticks later, tells the redhead Stan’s hung up already, also by the very audible sigh. He doesn’t remember closing his eyes though, the lines and static behind his eyelids becoming apparent now that he’s aware.
Quiet tapping can be heard behind him before a clear noise of a phone being put down cuts it off. Even through his eyelids, Kyle can tell Stan shut his lamp off, the room going dark except for the small bit of moonlight creeping in from his window.
Stan slowly and carefully climbs over him, the mattress dipping around both of their combined weights for a second, the blankets shuffling as he settles into bed next to Kyle. Luckily, Kyle’s bed is big enough for two people, soft yet firm. His sheets are also a specific shade of blue that help see his room look more alive, definitely not for any other reason in particular…
He feels another jump of the bed when Stan turns toward him, a small breath leaving his lips. There’s silence for a few minutes, making Kyle think Stans has fallen asleep, until there’s a hand gently pushing some of his curls behind his ear. The hand lingers, playing with a stray strand. Kyle hears a small mumble of words, not fully catching it due to how quiet it was.
Eyes blinking open, Kyle is met with soft eyes staring at him. Realizing the sudden attention on him, his face begins to heat up. “Stan?” he breathes.
Seemingly, as if he didn’t realize what was happening either, Stan yanks his hand back awkwardly. A tense laugh rings out, “Shit, sorry dude. I thought you were already asleep… um, your hair was in your face, so yea.” The blush is back but more noticeable, even in the dark.
Kyle is too stunned to respond.
Awkward silence stretches for a little too long.
“What did you say?” Kyle decides to be the one to break it.
“Huh?”
“Just now. What did you say?”
“Nothing.”
“Stan.”
“Seriously it was nothing, I was just trying to remember a song.”
Kyle doesn’t believe him. Usually he’d push, but not tonight. Instead he tries asking something different, “How are you feeling now?”
Stan chuckles quietly, scooting closer to him, “I’m not good but not bad. It’s just been a long night and I was spiraling a bit already.” His head tilts up a bit to keep his eye contact with Kyle now that he’s closer, sheets crumpling more in between them. His face slightly illuminated by the small sliver of moonlight, catching his sharp yet soft features.
“Thinkin’ about college again? Or is it something else?” Kyle asks softly, reaching a hand up to comb through the ends of Stan’s hair. It’s getting longer, he notices.
Stan leans into his touch, he sighs. “Something like that. When my dad brought you up in our fight, he was saying shit like ‘you always fuck off to go see Gerald’s kid’ or whatever. He told me where will I go to avoid my ‘duties’ at the farm when you go away for college. That’s kinda when I started yelling. It scared me, made me think too much. What if I don’t get into BU? You have a much better chance at getting in than me. What if I have to stay here in South Park for—“
Kyle doesn’t let him continue his ramble. He won’t let him talk about their future like this.
“Stan. You have just as much of a chance as me to get into Boston University. You’re smart too, you know this. I helped you all last year and I will do the same this year.” Kyle says sternly, massaging a small spot behind Stan’s ear.
Eyes trained on the boy in front of him, he watches as he melts into the sensation. The dim light makes him look so pretty.
“You need to have more faith in yourself dude, it sucks seein’ you doubt yourself so much.” He continues, speaking softer.
“I know... it’s just—it’s hard. I don’t want to lose you.” Stan sounds like the 14 year old he used to be, fearful for the future and scared for himself.
What Kyle’s noticed over the years is that Stan has always been afraid of losing him. The thing he doesn’t know is Kyle has always been his no matter the context. They’re forever intertwined, soulmates as everyone else would probably say. Although Kyle doesn’t think it’s a good idea to say that out loud. He wants it to mean something more.
“You won’t lose me Stan. You couldn’t even if you wanted to or tried.” Another teasing smile works itself onto Kyle’s face, “Even if you don’t get into BU, which you will, I’ll drag you with me.”
Stan laughs, shoving his shoulder, making Kyle’s hand drop from his head. “You won’t have to drag me fucker, I’ll willingly go along.”
Kyle chuckles as well, “Regardless, don’t listen to anything your dad says about me or our situation.” He reaches a hand under the covers, searching for Stan’s hand, which doesn’t take him long. He locks their pinky’s together, smiling to himself when he feels Stan’s pinky curl around his.
“Our situation?” Stan wiggles his eyebrows, a stupid expression taking over his face.
It’s Kyle’s turn to shove his shoulder, scoffing with rosy cheeks, “Shut up. You know what I meant dumbass.” Rolling his eyes, picking at some lint on the blanket with his unoccupied hand, feeling Stan’s eyes roam across his face. Kyle feels strangely exposed, like he just spilled his heart out with that simple sentence.
“Thanks Kyle.” Stan says just under his breath, causing Kyle to make eye contact with him again.
Suddenly, with the way his best friend is looking at him, Kyle’s struck with a memory from a couple of years ago. It was after their intense fight, just a few days after they started talking again. They were in the same position as they are now but less close, and less touchy. It was colder, almost nearing the time when the sun would come up, the sky beginning to change from star littered to a dusty yellow. Stan had said he just needed somewhere familiar to be. Once in the comfort of Kyle’s room and bed, then void of multiple posters, sheets and blankets a shade of green instead. He ended up having a panic attack trying to talk about what was going on. This was the first panic attack Stan had where Kyle witnessed it first hand, only ever hearing about them briefly.
Kyle laid still and in shock, as he had never seen Stan hyperventilate that hard, never seen him cry that hard. With his senses coming back and a wrenching heart, he immediately tugged him close, hugging him tight and counting breaths to calm him down. It took a while to finally get Stan still, sniffling through tears that were still going, but better than before. The morning sunlight had already taken up the majority of Kyle’s room, the brightness hurting Stan’s already sensitive eyes, causing Kyle to get up for a second to shut his curtains before returning back to him, hugging him close again. They finally talked about everything Stan had been thinking and struggling with, Kyle talking about his too, not wanting to make him feel alone in spilling his mind.
They cried together, laughed a bit, and changed subjects, but what really shifted their dynamic was learning how to communicate after that night. The way Stan had looked at him softly, swollen yet happy eyes made Kyle realize how hopelessly in love he had been with his best friend. He would always be there to help him again, he always wanted to be there, no matter what.
Seeing him now in the present, with a similar look in his eyes, he’s never stopped feeling that fluttering in his heart.
“Always dude.” Kyle says with the same tone of voice,
“You also know you’re always welcome here too. My family loves you, and they’re constantly asking if you’re stayin’ the night or not.” He snickers, pulling Stan even closer, his hand gently resting on his back.
Stan buries his face into the crook of Kyle’s neck, arms lazily laid on top of his. “Seriously? I thought they were getting annoyed with me being here almost everyday.” His is muffled, a yawn leaving him.
“Ike tries to make me call you so he can show you his stats on COD. Ma’ likes to cook your favorite foods so you can come over for dinner. My dad finds vintage band shirts and keeps them for you.” Kyle counts off with his fingers behind Stan’s back as if he could see him, “So yea, safe to say you’re a part of this household now.”
Stan presses his body closer, if that was physically possible at this point. “Sick.”
Kyle can feel his smile against him, making him smile in turn.
They stay silent for a while after that, listening to the heater click off, not like they need it anymore. The trees rustling outside can be heard again, faint car noises in the background. The quiet sound of their breathing mixing together, along with the occasional creak in the house. Eventually, their legs become intertwined as well, the soft bed becoming warmer, making their eyelids heavier by the second.
Fighting sleep and mumbling the best he can, Kyle closes his eyes fully, “Alright I’m tapping out. I’m tired and ready to drool all over you in my sleep.” He smooths a hand down Stan’s back.
“Night Ky.” Stan snorts and whispers quietly, the motion of his eyes closing causes his eyelashes to tickle Kyle’s neck.
Kyle barely has enough energy to answer, thoughts and everything around him slowly slipping away into a comforting buzz.
“Night Stan..”
As he lets himself fall asleep once again, full silence sweeps the entire room, every small sound finally making its way back into sound range. He doesn’t dream, not right away, it’s just warmth and butterflies. His body relaxing to its fullest state with Stan wrapped up in his arms.
What he doesn’t know in the depths of his sleep is that Stan stays awake for another 5 minutes, pressing a light and feathery kiss to the base of his neck.
“I love you.” Stan says under his breath again.