Chapter Text
“Oh god uughh… what do I even wear to this thing!!”
Stan was invited to a party, which is a rare occasion for him, though he was probably only invited because Wendy was the hostess, because of course she was!
“Classy? No, then I’ll be doing too much..”
High school was finishing soon, so Wendy wanted to get everyone together for the final time.. until people eventually do college parties and that becomes a whole thing.
“Relaxed? No! That’s not enough!!”
Stan wanted his final appearance in this godforsaken town to be a good one. He didn’t want to leave this place remembered as a nothing-burger druggy alcoholic fag.
“How do I even dress to be liked? How do I dress to be liked by WENDY?! She has such high standards, such a high bar. I can’t even reach that fuckass bar if I jumped!”
The party was in 10 minutes. The walk there was like, forever, and Randy crashed the only car the family own, so he’s technically already late as hell. Stan just gives up and slaps on jeans and a shirt of a weird ass obscure hard metal band from the 80s.
—
“Fuuck I haate walking dude….” mumbles continue to come out as he drags his feet through the snow. Luckily, the snow is thin rr during this season , except Summer in South Park is more like a slightly warmer Winter. Stan groans a bit as the snow piles a bit in his shoes, already starting to melt and make the inside of his shoes soggy. Though luckily he’s FINALLY reached Wendy’s house, hearing crappy pop music blast out and flashing lights beaming through the glass of the windows.
Seeing this house again makes him nervous, but he shouldn’t be nervous! Him and Wendy are stable at the minute and they should be for a while. At least that’s what he’s hoping.
Stan reaches for the doorknob with an unsteady hand. Partly because of the cold as he had the bright idea to not wear gloves, but also because of the nerves.
—
“Heeeyy Stan!! Geez, you’re late~ did you forgot how to read a clock?” Kenny greeted Stan at the door, right on cue somehow. He was already wasted, but I guess it’s fair since Kenny’s been at the party longer than he has been (and probably had a sneaky drink beforehand to prepare for sed party).
“No, I’m not dense. I was just having trouble picking out an outfit. Wanna look half decent, y’know?”
Kenny scoffs “And you came up with that? You’re dressed like you’re gonna illegally sell me booze and cannabis.”
“I’m not dealing with your ass right now, I have other things to deal with at the minute.” Stan pauses before quickly speaking again. “Y’know where Kyle is?”
“Up your ASS!”
“Yeah okay whatever dude.”
—
“Coming through!! Make way— oop- sorry!” Stan pushes through the crowd of young adults. It reeked, he kept almost tripping and he probably stepped on a girls face at some point in time, or several. Finally, in the kitchen he spotted a familiar silhouette of big red hair.
“Kyle.. KYLE!!” Stan pushes through more of the crowd, stripping over a random girl who probably wasn’t supposed to be here and making her fall into a glass table. He finally reaches Kyle.
“Oh hey dude! Finally made it?” Kyle said, almost beaming at the other boy.
“Yup.. had to spend some time looking.. swagger…”
“You look like a druggie.”
“FUCK!”
…
“Anyways, I NEED to speak to you about.. is Cartman here?” Stan interrupts himself.
“Why would Wendy invite him?”
“True, I NEED to speak to you about something, can we go upstairs so it’s like, more quiet? I DON’T KNOW DUDE I JUST NEED TO BE OUT OF THIS ROOM!!”
Stan and Kyle stare at each other.
“Damn dude okay we can go upstairs. Jeez.”
—
They end up in a spare room, or what they assume is a spare room judging by the lack of bed frame and colour everywhere. Kyle says the first word.
“So, why did you drag me here?”
“I need major MAJOR MAJOR advice man! I need to keep me and Wendy steady and I swear to god she’s expecting something out of me that I DON’T HAVE THE CAPACITY FOR!”
“Stan, I’m not showing you how to have sex.”
“Du— wha- THATS NOT WHAT I MEAN AT ALL!”
“Keep your damn voice down, and calm down it’s not a big deal.”
“I don’t know how to kiss a girl, okay?!” Stan whisper-yells.
Kyle stares for a second in confusion.
“Have you and Wendy not kissed .. like, ever? Because I swear to god I have a memory of this happening.”
“Whenever I try, it goes totally wrong and I vomit fucking EVERYWHERE! Every. single. TIME. How the FUCK do I get laid if I can’t even kiss one pretty girl?!”
Kyle thinks for a second.
“Hear me out here. Have you ever like.. tried to warm up before hand? Like, before trying to kiss Wendy?”
“Huh? I- I don’t think I’m quite getting this..?”
Kyle inhales deeply before continuing.
“What I hypothetically mean is couldn’t you hypothetically kiss another person beforehand to hypothetically prepare you for what’s hypothetically coming. Hypothetically.”
All was silent except for a fan.. if you’re ignoring the loud, bustling party beneath them.
“Are you saying you want to help me prepare..?”
“I mean I wasn’t— I wasn’t thinking that but..” Kyle pauses. “If you insist I mean.. I’m not opposed to the idea so…”
“Soo…”
Suddenly, Kyle grabs his face and kisses him. It felt like there was nothing else in the room (partly because there wasn’t), in the house, in everywhere for that matter. It was shocking, sure, but it felt strangely right. Stan had no urge to throw up at all, too.
Stan deepens the kiss, getting a slight sound out of Kyle and Stan giggling at him in return. Stan slips his hand into Kyle’s hair, messing around with it. He never knew it felt so nice up until this moment. Stan feels a hand on his arm, caressing slightly.
Stan suddenly realises the situation, pausing in his movements. He’s kissing his best friend. His MALE best friend, even. And he’s also technically cheating on his girlfriend.. with a man. A MAN. A man, a man.. what will others think.. what if there’s a camera in this room—
“Are you okay, dude?” Stan pauses in his thoughts. He’s staring into those green eyes.. those stupid, glasses-covered green eyes. Kyle’s holding onto him, but Stan’s embrace is slowly releasing.
“I.. I need to go.” Stan forces himself out of Kyle’s grip and speed-walks out the room, leaving the door open slightly.
“… F-fuck..” Kyle’s voice breaks slightly.
—
Stan’s vision is blurred and his face is flushed, sat on the bathroom floor. It was gross, but his legs were too weak to stand.
“I can’t.. I can’t be a fag.. I’m not.. I can’t be in love with Kyle.. my best friend.. he’s a dude.. I’m gonna be killed.. I— but I love Wendy.. but..” he pauses.
“but I vomit when I do anything intimate with her. It’s not like that with Kyle…”
He groans and clenches his hands over his face, bashing his head back on the wall.
“FUCK!”
—
Kyle slips out of the room kind-of discreetly, stressing the fuck out and red faced as hell. He stops in his tracks and feels a tear fall down his cheek.
“I pushed him too far..”