Chapter Text
XXIX.
What Stan knew about Kyle:
- Kyle had green eyes: sometimes emerald green, sometimes forest green.
- Kyle had ginger hair that was more lenient to the red side, and was very much the typical redhead.
- He was an all-round genius. Not even those typical high-school movie geeks, because he was damn good at basketball as well (although he hadn't played it in years).
- Not only a genius, but a nerd. Once a week during the last two years of middle school, Kyle used to have to pass up on going out with the others every Tuesday after school for an hour, as he had some study hall at the library. Stan didn't complain too much though, as that small installment seemed to cause Kyle to appear less stressed as the weeks went by, and he was looking a lot less peaky.
- He was fucking gorgeous just at a glance, but also both inside and out when you got to know him (even when he was screaming at Stan for not understanding a math formula, which wasn't particularly rare).
- Kyle did like boys like that, and Stan couldn't be more pleased with it. In fact, Kyle liked Stan like that after all.
- Kyle was in danger.
- He was scared of Eric Cartman, after having never feared him after all these years.
- Kyle was an excellent liar.
Kyle spotted Stan with ease as soon as he stepped out of the school. Others may've found it difficult to find Stan in a crowd, given his usual nature to blend in, keep his head down, slumped in that godawful posture, but Kyle, however banal, just had to look for the light.
Kyle took a few paces from under the tree. It was only beginning to blossom in the early April, so didn't hide him underneath it too badly.
However, it was only then that Stan spotted him. Impossibly, he lit up further, despite his face still being etched with the after-effects of Eng Lit.
"Hey," Stan smiled as he was lured to Kyle like a moth. "I missed you."
"Gay. It was only for one class."
"C'mon, yanno how Eng Lit is for me! Feels like a lifetime in there, 'specially with Clyde yapping 'bout how much he hates it, how useless it is, then he reiterates it all over again."
Kyle took the gum he was chewing out of his mouth and threw it in the trash can they passed.
"Gum?" Stan raised an eyebrow.
"Hm?"
"Since when do you chew gum?"
"What d'ya mean? It helps with concentration. I chew gum, stupid."
Would it be okay to clasp Stan's hand? Again already, after they'd done so at lunch? Tweek and Craig always did ever since they got together five years ago, but with a jolt, Kyle was very aware it might not be welcomed. But, noticing this with a smirk, Stan grabbed Kyle's hand as they began to make for the latter's house, lacing their fingers together.
Breath caught in his throat, Kyle felt blood rush in his veins, definitely on its way right to his face. Something they'd done so many times before, and yes, in the recent years of course Kyle had come to heat up every time, but it still felt trivial then, all in all. Now, it felt like there was an unforeseen firework display happening in Kyle's stomach, vicariously sparked by the electricity in his vessels.
"'Ya wanna walk back to yours instead of the bus?" Asked Stan. "'S a nice day."
Kyle felt a little lightheaded already, and the idea of walking for twenty minutes only worsened it. But it had been worse. He could deal. "Sure," he smiled. Besides, Stan walked slowly, so it wouldn't be too taxing.
Blanketed in a comfortable lull in conversation, the boys commenced on the journey back to Kyle's. It had been proposed by Stan in hopes he could buy some time to come to terms with the 'reality' of the earth beneath his feet, the clouds drowning across the stretch of sky, and whatever else everything had to offer.
To daub the way everything around them was fuzzy around the edges, Kyle couldn't tear his gaze away from Stan. He watched the other closely as he trudged through the sludge down the path. Spring meant rain, which they'd clearly already had when they were in class, and Kyle was dreading the month-late April Showers, in hopes Stan wouldn't get stuck in bed like he had last year just from the darkness of the sky.
Keeping his gaze planted to the ground as he walked, the emptiness settled in Stan's eyes, keeping house there as usual. His steps were heavy; he'd always been a lot more heavy-footed than Kyle, but the past five years it had worsened.
"Hey," came Kyle's voice, and he smoothed the pad of his thumb over where it had been sitting over Stan's hand. "What're you thinking about?"
"Nothin'," answered Stan truthfully. They progressed another paces. "Everyone always asks me that question. Like, am I supposed to be thinking about something?"
"No, no. Just, y'know, normal people do usually have racing thoughts."
"I do… But sometimes there's nothing. And anyway, I'm not normal."
Sighing, Kyle bumped Stan's shoulder with a sly smirk. "Oh, I'm aware, weirdo," he teased lightly, but not without a squeeze of Stan's hand.
"Ah, speak for yourself.”
"Aren't you the one that just... falls asleep in class though?" Kyle's forehead-crease deepened in mock confusion. "Because... yeah, I just thought... hm."
"Ah, no, Ky... you see, that is normal behaviour," he then jabbed a finger at Kyle with his free hand. "Being attentive to every last word the teacher says? That's not."
God, could he stop calling him "Ky"? Did Stan know what that did to him?
"Oh, I'm sorry some of us prioritize our education(!) Y'know, "eduction"? D'you know what that is? Or..?"
"Yeah, yeah," Stan shot a mock glare for good measure. "Why don't you tell me, for the sake of your sanity?"
"Hm. Well, education actually helps us in the future."
"Yeah, sure," Stan chuckled, trying to push away when his brain scoffed incredulously at the word "future".
"Hey, you and Kenny can act all high and mighty with your little slacking-off sessions, but you're gonna regret it and you know it."
"Oh, no, I never said I wouldn't. I'm just... living in the present. That's what my therapist has told me to do anyway."
Kyle deadpanned him. "Yeah, I think that means don't dwell on the past, dude. Not throw away your future."
"Ah, each to their own. Just lemme live in the moment and stop lecturing me for once."
"No," replied Kyle with a prideful smirk.
"You're an asshole," Stan retorted, lacking malice as he bumped Kyle's shoulder.
"Guilty as charged, Stanley."
Again, asking for a kiss. More and more, a soul-crushing desire as they kept up the banter. And it continued its normal path, and in no time they'd approached Kyle's house. At this point, Kyle was near keeling over.
Feeling Kyle trailing behind a little, Stan gripped Kyle's hand tighter. It felt like he was having to hold him up. "Hey, you alright?" He asked, eyebrows knitting.
"Yeah, yeah I'm fine," Kyle's hand went to his head before he could stop himself.
"Bullshit."
When Kyle didn't reply, Stan gently guided him to the front door, opening it and helping Kyle inside, and he sat him on the couch.
The world had gone so fuzzy and spiky round the edges that it all blurred together, and a figure knelt in front of him. It shone in the most uncanny fashion.
"Are you low?" A voice asked. "You haven't gone hypo., have you?"
Willing the figure away, Kyle kept his lips clamped. His tongue felt weird in his mouth, as if it shouldn't be there.
"You need to eat, I think," advised the figure.
"I have," insisted Kyle fiercely with the last of his strength.
"Where does your mom keep the back-up candy bars?" The voice pressed, not humoring Kyle one bit.
Did the figure want him to puke?
"No, no... glucose tablet..." mumbled Kyle.
"Where are they?"
"Kit. Check me first. 'Cuz I'm not low, I'm fine."
"Idiot," mumbled the figure lightly, not having the effort to verbally call bullshit. Kyle could relate.
After some distant bustling, Kyle's finger was pricked.
The figure let out a low whistle. "Seventy-six, dude," he sighed. "Jesus, did you eat?"
Kyle decided to be too low to answer that.
There was a pop of foil, then something was pressed into Kyle's hand.
"Take it," instructed the voice from ahead, or behind? He...
"No."
"Yes."
"I don't like it-"
"Kyle, now."
Somehow, the glucose tablet found its way from Kyle's hand to his mouth. Before he could spit it out, it dissolved and coated his tongue.
He'd always hated glucose tablets. Pills should be bitter when they dissolve, but these were sickenly sweet as much as they were still chalky, which should be nice. But it wasn't normal.
"Better?" Stan asked, sounding like he was exhaling deliberately.
No, Kyle felt like fucking shit.
He nodded wordlessly.
"C'mon," Stan put out his hand. "We should getcha layin' down."
"I'm fine," insisted Kyle, because he was. He was used to this. "We gotta do homework. C'mon."
"Homework is dumb. It can wait. You look like you're gonna keel over — and you're sitting down, dude."
Kyle grumbled, but didn't do much else. Stan was the only one he would acquiesce to like that. Standing, Kyle felt himself stumble slightly, and the fuzzing nearly returned.
"Woah, easy," Stan smiled softly — God, enough to heal the sick. Evidently, on Kyle's behalf.
They made for Kyle's staircase, and after an eternity approached his bedroom.
Stan helped to lay Kyle down, tucking him in. He resisted the terrible urge to clamber in next to him and bury into his chest, unsure whether or not cuddling would be much less weird as of lunchtime. Kneeling on the carpet next to where Kyle lay, Stan carded his fingers through Kyle's springy locks.
"Stan...?"
"'S okay, 'm here," Stan reassured in a whisper.
"No, I mean, I... hafta..."
"Hm?"
"It's Cartman's fault..."
For a while, Stan allowed himself to process. Of course, he still didn't understand. "What are you talkin' about? "Cartman's fault"? Whaddaya mean?"
But Kyle let out a sigh as he drifted into sleep. Likewise, Stan sighed, and he leaned over to plant a quick kiss to Kyle's forehead, unable to resist it.
Twisting back to sit with his spine digging against the side of Kyle's bed, he turned it over in his mind, digesting. Kyle was being awfully cryptic, as always.
Kyle was in danger because of Cartman, and that somehow linked to Kyle's...what? His diabetes? Was Stan being stupid, missing something obvious?