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The moment was perfect. The sun was shining like a million bucks, the birds were singing their cute little mating calls, and finally—finally—the dorm room was empty. With the ratty curtains drawn and the shitty LEDs dimmed, it was an ideal time for Kenny and Butters to get intimate.
Their lips found each other like magnets, an electric push and pull guiding their movements. Kenny ran a hand through Butters’ hair and tugged, earning an appreciative hum and a hot exhale against his mouth. Their noses nuzzled and knocked between feverish kisses. In a swift motion, Butters twisted into Kenny’s lap and pressed their chests flush, eager to crush the air molecules separating them.
“Be patient, Buttercup,” Kenny laughed, pulling away a bit and booping Butters on the nose.
Butters pouted but obeyed, waiting for Kenny to make the next move. Kenny leaned in and slowly began sucking the side of Butters’ neck, grinning when Butters made a noise of approval. It rumbled low in Butters’ throat and Kenny drank in the sound and feeling against his lips.
Butters rolled his hips and slid his hands under Kenny’s shirt, warmth blossoming wherever he touched. He pushed hard against Kenny’s pecs as Kenny bit down on Butters’ neck, both of them moaning their contentment.
Kenny started licking the mark he’d just made, but Butters pushed him off.
“You don’t need this, right Ken?” Butters’ eyelashes fluttered as he pulled on Kenny’s shirt.
Kenny grinned and shook his head, quickly slipping it off. Butters followed suit, removing his belt too. Kenny peppered kisses across Butters’ face before settling on his lips again. Butters happily reciprocated, hands absentmindedly sliding up and down Kenny’s bare back. Kenny was just about to start unbuttoning his pants when the lock chimed and the door swung open.
In walked Stanley Marsh like he owned the place, hardly giving the two lovebirds a glance. He dropped his bag on the floor and plopped onto his bed, eyes glued to his phone. Kenny suppressed an annoyed grumble. How did this keep happening?
Personally, Kenny didn’t have much of an issue with Stan’s presence, but unfortunately for him, Butters did.
Their lips separated with a loud and slimy pop and Butters yelped, scrambling for his shirt. At that, Stan glanced up.
“I’ve seen and heard worse, Butters. Just pretend I’m not here,” he said flatly, immediately going back to his phone.
“You know he can’t, dude,” Kenny groaned, throwing his head back onto his pillow. “I thought you were gonna be at the library all day?”
“Wasn’t being productive,” Stan replied, typing furiously.
“Well we were going to be, thanks for asking,” Kenny grouched.
“Sorry, Ken…” Butters mumbled.
“You’re not the one who should be apologizing, Leo,” Kenny said pointedly.
But Stan had already tuned out of the conversation. His foot tapped the floor with increasing intensity for ten seconds before he groaned loudly and chucked his phone onto the nightstand.
Okay. Kenny figured they should probably probe into that. Butters seemed to agree. They both got up and migrated to Stan’s side of the room as Stan collapsed onto his mattress like he had just lost all will to live. As Butters dragged over a desk chair, Kenny cannonballed onto Stan’s bed. The frame shook aggressively, but elicited no response from Stan. Damn.
“Hey Stan, what’s going on?” Butters asked warmly, throwing his arms over the back of the chair.
Stan grumbled something unintelligible into his pillow and Butters frowned, shooting Kenny a glance. Kenny shrugged. He turned his attention from his unresponsive friend to the phone on the nightstand. It was still on, and open to a private contact. The last conversation was dated nine months ago. A giant paragraph of text (more than Kenny’s ever seen Stan write in his life) sat in the message bar, decidedly unsent and abandoned. Kenny checked the contact name, and to his unsurprise, it was the one and only Kyle Broflovski. Once again, Kenny held back a groan of annoyance.
“Stan. Dude. Just text him,” Kenny said, exasperated. This was probably the five thousandth time they’ve had this conversation. “It doesn’t matter what you say. He’ll be happy to hear from you. Hell, he’d probably be giddy if you sent him a picture of your piss.”
“I don’t know about that, Ken…” Butters cut in.
“He one hundred percent would not,” Stan agreed.
“The point is!” Kenny pivoted. “You should just let him know you’re alive, dude. Please.”
“It’s not that simple…” Stan whined, lifting his face and slamming it back into the pillow.
“It is that simple. In fact, it’s just two words,” Kenny said with a vaguely philosophical air. “Dick pic.”
Stan made a strangled noise, and Kenny would bet good money he was red as a tomato.
“What Ken means,” Butters interjected before Stan imploded. “is that you really should just talk your feelings out!” Kenny nodded sagely. “What if you called Kyle?”
Stan shook his head vigorously. “I don’t want to hear his voice, dude.”
“You’re joking,” Kenny deadpanned. “Weren’t you spending these past few months of radio silence ‘processing and accessing’? So you could ‘face him again’?”
“Yeah,” Stan replied lamely.
“Well?”
“Still not ready.”
Kenny groaned dramatically while Butters let out a light laugh.
“You’re going to have to face him eventually, Stan,” Kenny pointed out. “You can’t keep dodging in-person meet-ups forever.”
“He’s a state away, Kenny. What’s he going to do?” Stan protested. Quieter, he added. “And it’s not like he’s reached out either.”
“He’s probably just busy, Stan,” Butters said.
“Exactly. He’s busy. He doesn’t need my bullshit,” Stan scoffed.
Kenny sighed. His friend’s kicked puppy act had been dragging on for way too long. And it kinda sucked to see Stan this pathetic in general.
“Stan,” Kenny said weightily. “I need you to get your shit together.”
Stan half-heartedly flipped Kenny off.
“I’m serious, man. Unless you wanna third wheel me and Butters for eternity, I suggest you suck it up and text him ‘hi’. No apologies, no self deprecation, no psych outs. Just ‘hi’. You can do it, Stan.”
Said man hummed noncommittally.
“I mean it, dude,” Kenny said emphatically. “…Also, I swear to God, if you cock block us one more time, I’m going to burn your keycard and push you out the window.”
Stan stilled and considered this for a solid minute. Then he held out his hand. Kenny dropped the phone into it with a triumphant smirk. When the device hit his palm, Stan slowly sat up and stared at the screen like it had killed his dog. Begrudgingly, he stuck his index finger out and held the ‘delete’ button for an absurdly long time. Probably hyping himself up. When the bar was clear, his fingers hovered over the keyboard for a charged moment before they painstakingly hit the letters “h” and “i”.
“That’s it…” Kenny encouraged, leaning in as Stan’s thumb inched towards the ‘send’ button.
But at the last second, he shouted in pure frustration and threw his phone across the room. He probably intended for it to shatter on the floor, but it landed on Kenny’s bed with a sad plop.
“Stan!” Kenny cried.
“I’ll send it!” Stan insisted. “...Later.”
Kenny and Butters both banged their foreheads on the nearest surfaces while Stan quickly whipped out his guitar to distract himself. He fiddled with the strings and mumbled disjointed words under his breath, a ritual Kenny had seen very often. He recognized the chord progression as the latest song Stan had been working on. If he listened closely, he could catch bits and pieces of lyrics. Something something “beacon of light” mutter mutter “you were my childhood” blah blah blah “dreaming in green and red.” Holy fucking shit. Forget earlier, this was pathetic.
“Wow. He’s ‘processing his feelings’ alright,” Butters chimed in. Kenny couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic or not. But seriously, this motherfucker could wax poetic about his super best situationship, but he couldn’t even text him “hi”? This was the shittiest coping mechanism ever. Even Kenny dealt with his feelings better. (Cigarettes. Lots of cigarettes.)
There was only one possible solution to this predicament.
“I think we need to force him to see Kyle.”
…
The air smelled like rotten milk and decomposing rat flesh. The odor hit Kyle square in the face as soon as he walked into the room. He had no fucking clue what it was, but it was obviously coming from Cartman’s closet.
“Cartman, I told you to keep your goddamn side of the room clean!” Kyle yelled.
Cartman spun around in his chair. “Oh, back already?”
He looked Kyle dead in the eye as he kicked the pile of garbage on the floor so that it was on Kyle’s side of the room instead of his. He then dropped the remains of his KFC meal onto Kyle’s desk too, crumbs flying everywhere. Cartman put his hand to his chin contemplatively.
“My side of the room is completely clean, Kyel. It looks like yours is a bit of a mess, though,” he said, looking far too proud of himself. “Didn’t your mom teach you basic hygiene?”
“Didn’t yours?” Kyle grumbled, glaring at the putrid closet.
Cartman followed Kyle’s gaze. “Oh, don’t worry about that. It’s just a pancake-donut surprise I was saving for later.”
Kyle gagged. “How long has that been in there?
“Mmm…about 12 hours.”
“Why the fuck does it smell like spoiled milk and death?”
Cartman gave a shit-eating grin. “ChatGPT says if you leave it soaking in milk, it lasts longer.”
Kyle tried to tell himself not to fall for it. It was just Cartman’s usual rage bait. But unfortunately, rage bait was very effective on him.
“You fucking dumbass!!!! You left milk out for 12 hours?!?!?”
“If ChatGPT says it’s fine, it’s fine,” Cartman said innocently. “Try the milk, Kyel. It’ll taste just like pancake-donut surprise.”
Kyle pushed Cartman out of his desk chair and shoved him towards the closet.
“Get. It. Out.”
Cartman opened the closet and procured a plastic container filled with milk. Chunks of…stuff…floated at the top and swam inside, and Kyle decided he didn’t want to guess what was pancakes, donuts, or curdled milk.
“What, this?” Cartman asked, tilting his head.
Without warning, he popped the lid off. The smell was amplified tenfold, filling every crevice of Kyle’s nostrils.
“Sick, dude!” Kyle yelped, pulling his hoodie up to cover his nose.
“It’s one of a kind,” Cartman boasted. He held it right up to Kyle’s face, forcing him to stare at its lumpy grossness. He even wafted it and sighed contentedly. Kyle wouldn’t be surprised if next, he was planning to find a spoon and airplane that shit into Kyle’s mouth.
Kyle pointed at the door. “Out.”
Cartman pretended to consider.
“Now!”
“Jeez, what crawled up your vagina, today?” Cartman grumbled, but with a kick to the shin, he finally left.
“Why the fuck did I room with him,” Kyle groaned.
He stooped and started tidying up the junk Cartman dumped on the floor, then threw the KFC food back onto Cartman’s desk. Good enough. He’d make Cartman take the food trash out too when he came back. It was already going to take the whole bag of coffee grounds Tweek gave them plus ten air purifiers to neutralize the smell of Cartman’s concoction. He really didn’t need grease and gravy adding to the room’s odor.
That was a later problem, though. He had a bio test to study for. The last twelve hours at the library had been productive, but he had a few concepts to brush up on before tomorrow. For now, he’d just open the window and air out the room.
Just as he did so, Cartman sauntered back inside.
“Still studying?” Cartman asked, eyeing the textbooks spread across Kyle’s desk. “Fucking nerd. Anyways, look at what Stan sent me.”
Cartman shoved his phone into Kyle’s face, missing Kyle’s twitch at Stan’s name. It was one of those dumb seal core videos, the kind that Stan used to send Kyle all the time.
“What a grass-eating hippie, amiright?” Cartman said, sending a reaction sticker that said just that.
Kyle didn’t say anything as he glanced over Cartman and Stan’s conversations. It was just reel-sending and banter. But a nasty feeling clawed at his stomach, as if Cartman really had spoon-fed him the spoiled milk.
This, Cartman noticed. A sly smile spread across his chubby face.
“What, jealous he’s sending me his stupid reels and not you?”
Kyle turned away. “That’d be ridiculous.”
“I’m stealing your man~” Cartman sing-songed.
Kyle resisted the urge to punch him in the gut. As calmly as he could, he flipped Cartman off and settled in his chair to get back to work. Cartman apparently had no intention of dropping the subject, though. He threw himself over the back of Kyle’s chair and started singing right in his ear.
“Kyle and Stan, sitting in a tree. F-U-C-K-”
Kyle grunted and pushed Cartman’s face away. “Shut up, fatass.”
“I-N-G!” he finished, snatching Kyle’s phone off the desk as he did.
“What the fuck are you-”
Cartman held the phone up to Kyle’s face, and the facial recognition instantly unlocked.
“Hey!”
Cartman dodged Kyle’s first attempts at grabbing the phone back, scrolling and tapping breezily.
“Let’s see what cybersex you two have been up to~”
“Cartman!”
Kyle tripped trying to get out of his chair, giving Cartman enough time to open the contact and scroll.
“Dude, this is boring! Your last conversation was about Butters chasing a fucking squirrel? NINE months ago?”
“So what?” Kyle spat, finally taking the phone back now that Cartman had lost interest.
“You two couldn’t go a day without eye fucking each other in high school. And the flirting, Jesus Christ. ‘Oh Stan, you look so hot in your football helmet’-”
Kyle threw a blanket over Cartman’s head. He heavily considered suffocating him with it.
“Quit hallucinating, doughboy,” Kyle snapped. He kicked Cartman towards his own side of the room and turned back to his textbooks, effectively ending the conversation. Or so he thought.
Cartman quickly recovered. “I bet $50 you draw Stan during your lectures.”
Kyle groaned. “What are you talking about?”
“$50,” Cartman grinned, waggling his eyebrows.
“I don’t have $50 or drawings of Stan,” Kyle said through ground teeth.
“You’re a down bad, stingy Jew, Kyle. Of course you do.”
Kyle popped open his wallet and showed his absolute lack of funds. He then looked at his stack of notebooks on the corner of his desk, trying to remember which one he hadn’t doodled in. Unfortunately, Cartman had the patience of a toddler and snatched the top one off the pile.
“Wait-”
Cartman flipped it open to a random page and smiled maniacally. “Bullseye.”
It was a crappy drawing in Kyle’s opinion (he had done much better ones in other notebooks, not that Cartman had to know that), but it was pretty obviously Stan. Cross-legged and playing his guitar, a position Kyle had memorized since Stan started song-writing.
“...It’s just a doodle,” Kyle protested weakly.
Cartman just flipped to the next page. That one was a redrawing of a picture that was Kyle’s phone wallpaper for a while. Nothing but creased eyes, crooked teeth, and a full-bodied laugh at something Kyle had said.
“I draw everyone when I'm bored!” Kyle jumped to defend himself once more.
He took the notebook and started flipping through the pages more, skipping over any drawings of Stan in between. (Too many drawings of Stan in between, Cartman noted. He filed this away for later. He had already won today’s little competition, game, set, and match.)
As he flipped, Kyle pointed out doodles of their other friends. Little chibis of Kenny and Butters beaming at each other, a scribble of Wendy (holding hands with Stan), a sketch of Tolkien and Craig giving each other a look as Tweek tweaked out. There were even various scrawls of Cartman getting smashed by cartoon hammers, or run over by absurd-looking cars.
“I could have you sued for contemplated murder,” Cartman huffed, reaching to rip out one of the drawings. Kyle swatted him away.
But for every drawing of their other friends, there were ten more of Stan. Kyle seemed to notice this too, flipping with increasing frustration as if willing the Stan drawings to disappear.
“You’re just digging your own grave here, Kyle,” Cartman said, fully amused.
“You just happened to choose the worst notebook,” Kyle grumbled, tossing it back on the stack. He made no move to grab another.
“So when’s the wedding?”
“21 years and I still don’t know how to get you to shut the fuck up,” Kyle lamented. He settled for kicking Cartman’s desk chair back towards his side of the room and returning to his neglected textbooks.
Cartman let himself drift away, greatly satisfied with this conclusion. He had to say though, the nine months were a little concerning. These douchebags seriously hadn’t been able to go a second without the other for the majority of their lives. What happened to the toxic bond of co-dependency that Cartman found so much joy in exploiting? This weird, long distance friendship wouldn’t do at all.
“Cupid me, perhaps it’s finally time for us to interfere…” Cartman muttered, an airy “teeheehee~” coming from somewhere in the ether.
Kyle was successfully ignoring Cartman at this point, but Cartman quickly realized it wasn’t because he was focused on his studies. Cartman had to physically restrain himself from bursting out into laughter.
There was a string of polaroids taped to the wall above Kyle’s desk. Cartman had taken most of them himself, only ceding them to Kyle because they were the worst ones of the batch. They were mostly blurry smudges of smiles and shenanigans, since it was impossible for their group to sit still. But it was their so-called “friend group” in all its glory. And right in the center, Kyle had put a picture of him and Stan at high school prom. The picture was in the perfect place for Kyle to space out and stare at it to “give his eyes a break from the screens and tiny text.” Like he was doing right now.
“Wow, this is sad to watch,” Cartman mumbled. “At least them hanging off each other was entertaining.”
Cupid me whispered something into Cartman’s ear. Cartman grinned.
“I am a genius.”
…
TheMostAwesomestAndHandsomest created a new group chat.
TheMostAwesomestAndHandsomest added kenny😎and Butters!!
TheMostAwesomestAndHandsomest named the group chat “Operation Make the Fuckers Bone”
[0213h] TheMostAwesomestAndHandsomest : ALRIGHT ITS TIME 2 REVIVE THE CODEPENDENCY
[0213h] TheMostAwesomestAndHandsomest : LETS GET TO WORK PPL
Butters rolled over and squinted at his phone. He was a little skeptical when he saw 2am messages from Eric, guessing it couldn’t be anything good, but he supposed it was only polite to respond.
[0214h] Butters!! : Hiya Eric! What’re you talking about?
[0214h] TheMostAwesomestAndHandsomest : kenny enlighten ur boytoy
[0214h] Butters!! : What’s a boytoy?
[0214h] kenny😎 : not a word that describes u buttercup
[0214h] kenny😎 : dont worry about it
[0214h] Butters!! : Okay!
[0214h] TheMostAwesomestAndHandsomest : gross
[0214h] kenny😎 : if i were to take a wild guess this has to do w stan n kyle?
[0214h] TheMostAwesomestAndHandsomest : ding ding ding ding!
[0214h] TheMostAwesomestAndHandsomest : give the kid $1 million! god knows he needs it!
[0214h] kenny😎 : 😐
[0214h] Butters!! : Why are we trying to get Stan and Kyle to bone?
[0214h] TheMostAwesomestAndHandsomest : oh my jesus butters its so obvious
[0214h] TheMostAwesomestAndHandsomest : there horny af for each other
[0214h] TheMostAwesomestAndHandsomest : there pussies and not acknowledging it
[0214h] TheMostAwesomestAndHandsomest : there miserable and its very funny but in the end its very important that love always wins
[0214h] kenny😎 : wuts ur ulterior motive fatass
[0214h] TheMostAwesomestAndHandsomest : just a good old fashioned belief in the power of love ♥️💕💝💜💞💘💖💓💗💚💙
[0214h] kenny😎 : a likely story
[0214h] Butters!! : I know Stan and Kyle like-like each other, Eric
[0214h] Butters!! : So shouldn’t we get them to talk instead of bone?
[0214h] kenny😎 : that is a very good point actually
[0215h] kenny😎 : knowing them i wouldnt be surprised if they fucked and just said “no homo”
[0215h] TheMostAwesomestAndHandsomest : ofc were gonna make them talk b4 they bone
[0215h] TheMostAwesomestAndHandsomest : everyone knows thats the basis of a lasting relationship
[0215h] TheMostAwesomestAndHandsomest : trust me i know what im doing
[0215h] kenny😎 : words said moments before disaster
[0215h] TheMostAwesomestAndHandsomest : EY!
[0215h] TheMostAwesomestAndHandsomest : ILL HAVE U KNOW I HAVE A PERFECTLY WELL THOUGHT OUT PLAN
[0215h] kenny😎 : then why r we here
[0215h] kenny😎 : what do u need us 4
[0215h] TheMostAwesomestAndHandsomest : TO GET STAN ON BOARD OBVIOUSLY
[0216h] Butters!! : Sweet! What’s the plan, Eric?
[0216h] TheMostAwesomestAndHandsomest : i am so glad u asked butters
[0216h] TheMostAwesomestAndHandsomest : u 2 r gonna drive stans ass here for valentines day
[0216h] kenny😎 : …
[0216h] kenny😎 : ur joking right?
[0216h] kenny😎 : u expect us 2 convince stan
[0216h] kenny😎 : 2 drive 8 hrs
[0216h] kenny😎 : 2 go see kyle
[0216h] kenny😎 : in literally 2 days
[0216h] kenny😎 : when he hasnt had the balls to text him for 9 months??????
[0216h] TheMostAwesomestAndHandsomest : kenny ur looking at this the wrong way
[0216h] TheMostAwesomestAndHandsomest : all u have to do is make it sound like a normal hangout
[0216h] TheMostAwesomestAndHandsomest : like the good old days
[0216h] TheMostAwesomestAndHandsomest : the 4 of us
[0217h] Butters!! : And me!
[0217h] TheMostAwesomestAndHandsomest : and butters
[0217h] TheMostAwesomestAndHandsomest : just doing normal dude shit
[0217h] kenny😎 : alright lets pretend somehow stan agrees to this bs
[0217h] kenny😎 : whats the plan from there?
[0217h] kenny😎 : and it better not be lock them in the gym with a charcuterie platter
[0217h] TheMostAwesomestAndHandsomest : oh kenny kenny kenny
[0217h] TheMostAwesomestAndHandsomest : you underestimate me and my genius
[0217h] kenny😎 : right
[0217h] TheMostAwesomestAndHandsomest : its very simple in fact
[0217h] TheMostAwesomestAndHandsomest : we meet up at this classic american diner
[0217h] TheMostAwesomestAndHandsomest : that is very conveniently 2 minutes away from r campus
[0217h] kenny😎 : lazyass
[0218h] Butters!! : To be fair, I don’t think an 8 hour road trip with just Eric and Kyle in the car would end very well…
[0218h] kenny😎 : idc
[0218h] kenny😎 : ur paying for gas fatass
[0218h] TheMostAwesomestAndHandsomest : if that is the sacrifice i must make in the name of love so be it
[0218h] kenny😎 : ur still using ur moms card arent u
[0218h] TheMostAwesomestAndHandsomest : is it hers if it is in MY wallet?
[0218h] Butters!! : I’ll just pay for the gas, Ken
[0218h] kenny😎 : i got it covered leo dw
[0218h] TheMostAwesomestAndHandsomest : CAN WE GET BACK TO MY GENIUS PLAN
[0218h] kenny😎 : right
[0218h] Butters!! : We all go to a good old American diner!
[0218h] Butters!! : Then what?
[0218h] TheMostAwesomestAndHandsomest : easy
[0218h] TheMostAwesomestAndHandsomest : we ditch them
[0218h] kenny😎 : …
[0218h] kenny😎 : u know there gonna kill us for tricking them
[0218h] kenny😎 : not that thats a problem for me
[0218h] kenny😎 : and i have a plan to keep leo safe
[0218h] kenny😎 : but u know
[0218h] kenny😎 : there gonna skin u
[0219h] Butters!! : Aww, Ken, I’m sure they’ll understand we’re just trying to help them!
[0219h] TheMostAwesomestAndHandsomest : if my life is the necessary sacrifice for young long to blossom i will gladly give up this mortal flesh bag
[0219h] kenny😎 : alright its ur funeral
[0219h] kenny😎 : that i will not be attending bc i will also be dead
[0219h] kenny😎 : ur gonna kill me
[0219h] kenny😎 : ur a bastard
[0219h] TheMostAwesomestAndHandsomest : yes yes we will all mourn ur death thoroughly
[0219h] Butters!! : But Eric, if we ditch them, how will we know if they actually talked? What if they just ditch each other too?
[0219h] kenny😎 : yeah dude there being stupidly avoidant
[0219h] kenny😎 : they might just dip if were not there
[0219h] TheMostAwesomestAndHandsomest : u guys srsly dont watch enough of these kind of movies
[0219h] TheMostAwesomestAndHandsomest : everyone knows that if u set ppl up u HAVE to spy on them from the booth over
[0219h] kenny😎 : yea this plans doomed
[0219h] Butters!! : Wow! We’ll be like secret agents keeping tabs on our targets!
[0219h] TheMostAwesomestAndHandsomest : exactly butters!
[0219h] TheMostAwesomestAndHandsomest : kinny just has no imagination
[0219h] kenny😎 : u rly think they aint gonna see ur fatass next door?
[0220h] TheMostAwesomestAndHandsomest : ill just tell kyle im in the bathroom so he wont look for me
[0220h] TheMostAwesomestAndHandsomest : and then we just need some kewl disguises
[0220h] TheMostAwesomestAndHandsomest : its foolproof
[0220h] kenny😎 : far from it actually
[0220h] TheMostAwesomestAndHandsomest : I DONT SEE U OFFERING A BETTER PLAN KINNY
[0220h] kenny😎 : yea i dont have one tbh
[0220h] kenny😎 : plannings not my strong suit
[0220h] kenny😎 : its ok i havent died in a while and this should be amusing at least
[0220h] Butters!! : I think this’ll work for sure! Stan and Kyle really just have to have a heart to heart
[0220h] TheMostAwesomestAndHandsomest : thank u butters!
[0220h] TheMostAwesomestAndHandsomest : nice 2 know someone still believes love is real
[0220h] kenny😎 : im in a relationship
[0220h] kenny😎 : ofc i think love is real
[0220h] kenny😎 : and i do believe those 2 dumbasses r made 4 each other
[0220h] kenny😎 : i just dont know if this is gonna be the push in the right direction they need
[0220h] TheMostAwesomestAndHandsomest : oh kenny im gonna prove u so wrong
[0220h] TheMostAwesomestAndHandsomest : and im gonna laugh in ur face and say “i told u so” over and over and over so it haunts u in ur dreams
[0220h] kenny😎 : if this magically works then sure ill accept that fate
[0220h] kenny😎 : but atp im down to try anything
[0220h] kenny😎 : neither of them r making a move anytime soon
[0220h] kenny😎 : if stan writes one more “unrequited love song” im actually gonna lose it
[0220h] Butters!! : Stan’s songs are really good though!
[0220h] kenny😎 : they r
[0220h] kenny😎 : but the lyrics r bordering on emo and idt any of us want to be subjected to that again
[0221h] TheMostAwesomestAndHandsomest : ALRIGHT MY MINIONS OFF 2 BED WITH U
[0221h] TheMostAwesomestAndHandsomest : TMRW UR GONNA TALK 2 STAN
[0221h] TheMostAwesomestAndHandsomest : CAPICHE?
[0221h] kenny😎 : yes boss
[0221h] Butters!! : Okie dokie!
[0221h] TheMostAwesomestAndHandsomest : OPERATION MAKE THE FUCKERS BONE IS A GO!!!!!!!!!!!
Butters was still a little confused, if he was being completely honest. But the gist of it was that Stan and Kyle were finally going to get together by the end of this! That’d just be swell. Everyone deserves to find a partner who understands them. Even Eric!
But…even if they spied on Stan and Kyle, what if the two of them just danced around the subject? Butters knew he and Kenny did that for far too long. He didn’t want Stan and Kyle to make the same mistakes.
With quiet determination, Butters got out of bed and sat down at his desk, pen and paper in hand. If he was going to give advice to Stan, he wanted it to be well thought out and perfect.
…
Kenny and Butters gave each other a look. It was now or never. Morning had come and Stan was going to go cram at the library soon.
Kenny had absolutely no clue how to broach the topic. But for better or worse, Butters had no such qualms. He walked over to where Stan was packing his backpack with his usual endearing smile.
“Hey, Stan! We should go see Eric and Kyle tomorrow!”
Stan dropped his textbook on his foot. Kenny winced.
“Ow, fuck!”
Stan whined and shook his toe around in an attempt to lessen the pain. It didn’t seem to be working. Kenny tried to step in and move the conversation along.
“We haven’t all hung out together in ages and we have some time off. We should take advantage of it!” Kenny said as cheerfully as he could when Stan was giving him a magnificent stink eye.
“Yeah, you haven’t talked to Kyle in ages, right?” Butters added. “This would be a great chance to! Neither of you have to reach out first because you’ll both be there!”
Kenny decided not to say anything about how one of them still had to start the conversation, even if they spoke in person.
“I know you were all ‘I don’t want to hear his voice’ yesterday, Stan, but I think some exposure therapy would be good for you,” Kenny insisted.
“That sounds like unnecessary torture,” Stan grumbled, bending and chucking his textbook into his bag. “You guys can go if you want. I’m not.”
Well, this was going about as well as Kenny thought it was going to. He shot Butters a meaningful glance. Butters fidgeted, shook his head, and gave Kenny a vaguely encouraging smile. Kenny sighed.
Seriously, Cartman would have had better success cyberbullying Stan, even if it was over text. Butters and Kenny were the last people that anyone ever listened to. But goddamit, they were right sometimes too. And Cartman’s dodgy plan aside, Kenny was positive that Stan and Kyle just needed a good, long, vulnerable talk to finally get it through their thick skulls that the other was into them. This was all for their own good. (And Kenny’s sanity too, but that was besides the point). Surely they’d forgive him for twisting the truth a little?
“Come on, Stan. It’s just a group hangout. Me, Butters, and Cartman will be there as buffers. It’s only weird if you make it weird,” Kenny said. Surely this wouldn’t bite him in the ass later.
Butters squirmed, but hopped on board the train too. “Y-Yeah, Stan! You miss hanging out all together, don’t you? I’m sure it can get awful lonely trailing after me and Ken like a newlywed’s puppy.”
Kenny couldn’t tell if that was a nicer or meaner way of calling Stan a third wheel.
“I don’t really mind,” Stan replied.
“Come on, dude. We’ve seen the way you automatically turn to talk to an imaginary Kyle when we do gay shit, just to remember he’s in fucking Utah,” Kenny deadpanned.
“It’s a little sad,” Butters added.
Stan scrunched his nose. “That’s even worse coming from you.”
“Hey, no disrespecting my boyfriend in my house.”
“This is my shitty dorm too,” Stan frowned.
“Point still stands,” Kenny said. “But seriously, let’s just go, dude. Catch up. Have some fun. Eat some brunch at 6pm. Cartman says there’s a Valentine’s Day deal at this diner, and me and Butters can use our couple card to get y’all cheap food. Or the 5 of us can just pretend we’re a disaster polycule.”
Kenny almost kicked himself at his final comment, worried it hit too close to home. But thankfully, Stan just gave Kenny an unamused look while the gears spun in his head, weighing his options.
“We just don’t want you to be alone on Valentine’s Day, Stan!” Butters smiled earnestly. “That’s all.”
Stan hesitantly returned the smile. “Yeah, I guess we've always spent Valentine’s Day bumming around bitchless together.”
“Speak for yourself! I turned down dates every year to play Smash with you guys,” Kenny quipped.
“Really? The way I remember it, you always showed up dejected with a bouquet of roses you definitely didn’t buy for Kyle’s mom,” Stan grinned.
“Your memory’s defective,” Kenny responded airily.
The three of them laughed, recalling their old Valentine’s “festivities”. Kenny felt that the vibes were going in the correct direction. He cocked his head at Butters, who nodded and cleared his throat.
“So…are we going to Utah tomorrow, fellas?”
Stan clicked his tongue and contemplated a moment longer.
“Ah, fuck it. Better than being here alone all weekend.”
“That’s the spirit, Stan!” Butters beamed.
Kenny gave him a hearty slap on the back. “You’re not gonna regret it. We’re gonna have a blast like every other year.”
“Yeah…it’ll be nice to hang out with Kyle again,” Stan decided with a firm nod. “And Cartman too, I guess.”
“Let’s make Cartman pay for dinner.”
“Totally.”
…
This was going to be so awesome. Cartman was going to have at least four years worth of blackmail material AND have Kyle forever in his debt. For the rest of their lives, he could lord it over both Stan and Kyle that it was all thanks to him that they got to be gay and happy and together and shit.
Besides, anyone with eyes could see that they were meant to be together. They practically shriveled up into nothingness without the other there. Ragebaiting Kyle was only a fraction as entertaining without Stan there to wind him down just for Cartman to wind him back up.
The plan was infallible. And this was the easiest part. Or so Cartman thought.
“No.”
Cartman nearly fell out of his chair. Kyle calmly wiped the eraser shavings off his desk.
“No? ‘No’ what?”
“No, do not tell them to come visit.”
“Uh, in case you weren’t listening, I already told them to come, Kyel.”
“Then tell them not to come, fatass!”
Cartman was aghast. It was just dinner. Why was there a stick up Kyle’s ass over it?
“Let me get this straight. You don’t want to get out of this cramped, boring ass dorm, you don’t want to hang with your best buds, and you don’t want to get bacon pancakes for $7.99?”
“Nope. A long weekend means it’s time to get ahead,” Kyle said in that stupid high and mighty voice that meant there was no room for discussion. Fuck.
“You just finished all your tests!”
“And there are more coming up.”
“In months! You know, Kyle, studies show that actually having a social life improves your academic performance,” Cartman preached.
“I have more of a social life than you. When’s the last time you left this room for anything other than getting food?”
“Yesterday actually, when a prissy neat freak forced me to throw out perfectly good leftovers.”
Kyle sighed his “why do I even bother” sigh and slammed his papers on the table to straighten them out.
“I do want to see the others, but it’s not a good time. Tell them to come up when the semester ends or something.”
Classic Kyle, using work as an excuse. But Cartman had several angles to attack from.
“But the deals, Kyle! We need a couple!”
“It’s not even that big of a discount, Cartman. Just go by yourself.”
“No no no, I need to try the Snacky Cakes Combo. It’s limited edition and exclusively for couples.”
“I’m sure you can hire a partner for that.”
Cartman frowned. “Well, what about the Valentine’s bro code?”
Kyle wrinkled his nose. “The what now?”
“You know! Valentine’s is the international Smash Bros and pizza day!”
“What the fuck are you talking about.”
“It’s basically illegal to be alone on Valentine’s Day, Kyle. You either go on a date, have a bachelor party with your bitchless friends, or kill yourself. Those are the only options.”
“I’ll just kill myself, then. Mentally.”
“That’s not how it works, Kyel!”
“Quit whining. If this ‘bro code’ is so important to you, why don’t you go down to Colorado and have your bitchless party far away from me?”
“Because Colorado doesn’t have hashbrowns in the shape of a heart for $1.50.”
“You’re STILL on about that? Fine, drag Kenny and Butters to your shitty diner, but leave me out of it!” Kyle yelled with finality. He slammed his textbook onto the bookshelf with a thud and put on his headphones.
Cartman stared at Kyle’s scowl for a second and laughed. He really didn’t think it was going to have to come to this. But honestly, he was quite happy with this turn of events. It just meant he got to torment Kyle more.
Cartman waltzed over to Kyle’s side of the room and plucked the headphones off his head. Kyle sputtered in response and tried to grab for them, but Cartman held them out of reach with a waggled finger and an “uh uh uh!”
“I see what this is all about, Kyle. You can fool yourself all you want, but you can’t fool me.”
Kyle’s eyebrow twitched. “Stop spouting bullshit already, Cartman.”
“Drowning in delusion is dangerous, Kyle,” Cartman warned, his voice the perfect mix of faux concern and patronization to drive Kyle nuts.
Kyle scoffed. “Right, between the two of us, I’m the delusional one.” He crossed his arms and glared at Cartman. “But since I ‘can’t fool you,’ go ahead, oh wise one. Tell me all about how I’m deceiving myself.”
Cartman smirked. Hook, line, and sinker.
He started pacing about the room a bit, pretending to be very deep in thought.
“I couldn’t help but notice you didn’t mention Stan at all during our discussion of the hangout. He is part of our ‘gang,’ is he not? So therefore, meeting with the gang for Valentine’s Day would mean meeting with Stan. And I find it rather hard to believe that you have no thoughts whatsoever on seeing him again, having seen your…detailed notebooks.”
Kyle muttered something close to “I need to burn those” under his breath before replying.
“Kenny and Butters are your ticket to the discount. Why does Stan coming matter?” he asked through gritted teeth.
“Well Kyle, judging by your words and reactions, there’s only one plausible explanation for why you are so vehemently against this Valentine’s meetup.”
“Enlighten me,” Kyle deadpanned.
Cartman paused for dramatic effect, getting all up in Kyle’s face to make his next words hit.
“You’re too scared to see Stan on Valentine’s Day because of the implications.”
Kyle rolled his eyes and pushed Cartman out of his personal space. “That’s your big conclusion? You said it yourself. The five of us have spent every Valentine’s Day together since elementary school. Theoretically, if I agreed to meet up, why would it be any different?”
“You really need me to spell it out for you?”
Kyle just raised an eyebrow.
“Ever watched a romcom, Kyel? There’s a trope called ‘absence makes the heart grow fonder.’ Look it up.”
Cartman cleared his throat before getting extra theatrical.
“Our two characters have been out of contact for a full nine months for the first time since they were born. They hoped and prayed that distance and silence would quell the flurry of feelings in their fickle hearts. They let communication die out believing these foreign emotions would die with it. But they were wrong. Every day apart felt like plucking an eyeball out with a hot metal prong. Then Valentine’s Day rolls around. On this day of magic and miracles, finally—finally!—the two reunite, and those suppressed feelings hit them full force, sparking a heartfelt confession of love-”
“Are you done?” Kyle cut in, unperturbed.
“No, there’s about five more sentences left if I recall correctly-”
“Spare me the ChatGPT speech, please, for the love of God.”
Cartman gasped, offended. “This came straight from the heart, Kyel. Inspired by The Notebook, Love Actually, and all the greats-”
“Is there a point to this?”
“Jeez, and I thought you were supposed to be the smart one,” Cartman shook his head. “The point is: you’re too much of a pussy to look Stan in the eye on the day of love. ‘Cause if you do, you’re gonna kiss him.”
Kyle stared at Cartman, dumbfounded for a second, before bursting into a brittle laugh. “That’s the stupidest thing you’ve said this month.”
“There you go again. Lying to yourself,” Cartman tutted.
“There’s nothing happening between me and Stan, we don’t have whatever crazy romcom tension you’re yapping about, and if you think some…crush is the reason I don’t want to see my closest friends, you’re really more of an imbecile than I ever imagined.”
“So you do want to see them.”
“Of course.”
“And I know for a fact you finished all your work.”
“I didn’t finish all-”
“SO IN CONCLUSION,” Cartman interrupted. “You’re a pussy. In love.”
“You’re fucking delusional.”
“Am I?”
“Yes.”
“If you’re so sure, why don’t you let them come up, and we’ll all have dinner together. I bet $50 you kiss Stan.”
“I told you I don’t have $50-”
“IF you don’t, I’ll drop the jokes about you and Stan being gay.”
“Like you expect me to believe that.”
“I am so seriously.”
“Literally what is the point of this?”
“Kyle. This is very simple. Do you want to see Stan or not?”
Kyle looked about ready to rip his hair out.
“Yes,” he said, exasperated.
“I rest my case.”
Kyle blinked, wholly lost. He really couldn’t see what Cartman could possibly get out of this…situation…but he was clearly very invested in it. That meant Cartman was not going to drop it without a fight. A fight that Kyle did not have the energy or patience to engage in right now. So, he accepted his fate. He was too used to Cartman’s nonsensical shenanigans to question everything anyways. He let out a massive sigh and massaged his temple.
“I have no clue what your angle is, but basically, you want me to go to the diner to hang out with Stan and the others?” Kyle summarized. “Fine. But there will be no kissing, no ‘confessions of love,’ no drama, nothing. We will sit, eat, talk, and play Smash on my Switch. Whatever you are expecting to happen will not happen. Got it?”
Cartman’s grin split his face. “Whatever you say, Kyel.”
…
“Loo loo loo, I got some apples, loo loo loo, you have some too~”
Butters’ sweet singing filled the car, loosening the atmosphere slightly. It wasn’t tense, per say. But there was clearly something…off. They were about an hour out from Cartman’s miraculous diner and the mood had started to ebb. No more karaoke or “I Spy” or “Fuck, Marry, Kill.” No more shitting on professors or rating worst test experiences. No more jokes and banter. Just a slightly strained silence.
If Butters were to guess, Stan was mentally preparing himself for seeing the love of his life and Kenny was mentally preparing himself for death. Butters should probably be joining Kenny in the latter, but he was too excited at the prospect of two of his good friends finally getting the love they deserved.
Love was just such a neat little thing! The memory of Kenny’s sweet Valentine’s kiss and corny Valentine’s card (“you BUTTER be my Valentine!”) and pretty Valentine’s roses filled him with so many warm, fuzzy feelings, he thought he might combust. Everyone should get to feel like that sometime. Even Eric!
As if sensing Butters was thinking about him, Kenny took a hand off the wheel to blow Butters a kiss. Butters giggled and caught it, pressing it to his lips.
Kenny turned over his shoulder to address Stan. “We’ll be there soon!”
Stan made a noise of acknowledgment, eyes not leaving the window. It sorta felt like Butters and Kenny were dropping their teenage son off on his first date!
On that note, now seemed as good a time as any to give Stan the pep talk he prepared. Butters reached into his pocket and pulled out his little prepared speech. He cleared his throat emphatically. Kenny glanced sidelong at Butters. Stan popped an earbud out and cocked his head.
“Heya, Stan. I know this is just a fun friend hangout we’re going to right now, but I also know you’re still real nervous about talking to Kyle. I get it. I felt that way with Kenny for a long time.”
Kenny softened and audibly said “aww,” while Stan smiled politely, if a bit suspiciously.
“You see, me and Kenny were a lot like you and Kyle. We didn’t like talking about our feelings too much because it felt weird and uncomfortable and kinda gay. So we avoided deep stuff. We kept it real casual and ran away if it got too personal. But that was actually hard. Really hard. Harder than just manning up and doing it.”
Besides Butters, Kenny was holding in his laughter and cuteness aggression. Stan looked very confused.
“Doing…what?”
“Saying the things that we thought were supposed to be just inside thoughts.”
Kenny smiled and nodded approvingly.
“‘Cause Stan, inside thoughts are a lie. All thoughts should be outside thoughts. If you keep thoughts bottled up inside, then they’re just gonna take up space and make it real hard to breathe. The same thing goes for feelings. You don’t gotta keep those to yourself either. Things like that are meant to be shared. They make other people feel good.”
Stan looked like he was processing.
“Unless you’re Eric. This don’t apply to Eric ‘cause Eric is special,” Butters added.
Kenny couldn’t hold back a snort at that.
“Hey, what’s so funny about that, Ken?” Butters frowned.
“Nothing, Buttercup,” Kenny reassured. He reached out and pinched Butters’ cheek. “You’re just really freaking cute.”
Butters flushed.
“And very right, too,” Kenny said a bit more seriously. “You get all that, Stan? Take it to heart. Seriously.”
Stan finally finished loading and nodded slowly.
“I…got it?”
Kenny raised an eyebrow. “You might wanna summarize for him, babe.”
Butters nodded solemnly. “What I’m saying basically is don’t be afraid to be a little gay, Stan.”
Stan made a sound like a dying seagull. Kenny looked like he was about to jump in to do damage control, but Butters held a hand out to stop him.
“I mean don’t be afraid to say things like ‘I missed you’ or ‘I’m happy to see you.’ They may sound stupid to your ears when you say them, but they mean a whole lot to the person you say them to.”
Thankfully the clarification resuscitated Stan, who coughed and nodded quickly several times.
“‘Missed you.’ ‘Happy.’ Gay. Got it.”
“You sure, champ?” Kenny asked.
Stan nodded seven more times. His ears and neck looked like they had a rash.
“Great! Kyle’s gonna be so happy to see you, Stan!” Butters beamed, positively glowing.
Stan’s blush crawled to his cheeks and the terror in his eyes died down, replaced with something akin to hope. He rubbed his nose sheepishly.
“Right. …Uh, thanks a lot, Butters.”
As Stan popped his earbud back in, Kenny leaned over and kissed Butters on the forehead.
“Very eloquently put. Good job, love,” he said with the world’s dopiest grin.
…
Predictably, Kyle was already regretting his life decisions. The moment he walked into that stupid diner, he had a feeling he’d been had.
It was probably the only diner on earth that actually decorated for Valentine’s Day, and it took great pride in this fact. Every item was painfully gaudy in its size, color, multiplicity, and arrangement. There were at least a million roses strewn about in vases and arches, candles on every available surface, heart-shaped balloons in clusters on the ceiling, paper garlands and streamers brushing against Kyle’s hair, and red velvet cloth just absolutely everywhere. A giant neon sign spelled out “Love” in bold pink letters, and a hand-painted banner greeted the customers with “HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY!” Kyle was pretty sure even the pale pink wallpaper was specifically chosen for this holiday. Everything was a whirlwind of reds, pinks, and purples so bright they hurt Kyle’s eyes. It was like Cupid flew in and gave birth in the damn place.
Cartman seemed to be in love with all the love. To Kyle’s surprise, he did not jump for the menu as soon as they arrived. He looked to be quietly judging the decorations by some unknown standards, and if his reactions were anything to go by, the standards were being well exceeded. Not a good sign.
“Hello, table for five, please,” Cartman said with debonair flair.
“Of course. Right this way, sirs.”
The waiter took them to a freestanding table in the back corner. Five chairs stood at attention around a garishly decorated table. Kyle moved to sit down, but Cartman pulled him back upright.
“Excuse me, sir, but could we possibly have that table over there?”
Cartman pointed towards the middle of the diner, where the booths were. There was a glass and wood divider between the two rows of tables and seating, but it all looked far more cramped and less private than Kyle would’ve liked.
“Can’t we keep this table, Cartman? I don’t want to get out of the booth every time someone has to take a piss.”
“You can’t have the true American diner experience without sitting in a booth, Kyle,” Cartman said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Unfortunately for Kyle, the waiter nodded and guided them towards the booths before he could further his argument.
Kyle grumbled under his breath and took the seat across from Cartman. At least the menu didn’t look half bad. And as a broke college student, saving some money was always nice. Maybe he could forgive the poor decor. And the cliché Valentine’s songs playing. There was just one thing out of place.
“Where’s Stan and the others?”
“On their way,” Cartman said with a wave of his hand. “Probably stuck in traffic.”
Kyle clicked his tongue, irked, but it couldn’t be helped. Kenny was known to show up fashionably late nine times out of ten, and Kyle was ninety nine percent sure he was the one driving. The one percent chance he was not was if he was stoned, which Kyle sorely hoped was not the case.
Cartman’s phone notifications went off, an irritating recording of Cartman screaming, “Phone! Now!” Cartman glanced at it, then stood up and brushed off his jacket.
“Looks like Kenny and them are gonna be a little while. I’ma go take a dump.”
Kyle scrunched up his nose. “Gross, dude.”
“Hey, better I do it here than at the dorms.”
With that, Cartman strutted off. Kyle made a mental note not to go to the restroom here under any circumstance. As Cartman rounded the corner, Kyle frowned. He supposed there was nothing to do now but play the waiting game.
…
Kenny pulled into the parking lot with his eyes peeled. As soon as he spotted Kyle’s ushanka, he navigated into his blind spot and parked where he couldn’t see them. The element of surprise was a vital element of Cartman’s “foolproof plan”. He killed the engine and unbuckled.
“Alright, we’re finally here!” Kenny exclaimed, stretching his arms out with a crack.
“Finally,” Stan groaned, all but rolling out of the car. He shook his legs to get the blood in them flowing again and cracked his neck for good measure.
Kenny made a big show of patting his various pockets.
“Huh, my wallet isn’t on me. That’s weird,” he frowned.
“Dude, you don’t need your wallet. We’re making Cartman pay, remember?” Stan said, shivering a bit. Little bits of snow dotted his eyelashes.
“Nah man, we should split it. We don’t see each other often enough to just have one person pay,” Kenny replied. He started digging around in the cupholders and side pockets. “Hey, Butters, can you check over there too? I might’ve left it over there when you took a shift driving.”
Butters scrambled to inspect his crevices too.
“Hurry up, it’s kinda cold out here,” Stan complained, rubbing his hands together.
“Uh, I have no clue where it is, dude. You might wanna go in first,” Kenny said sheepishly. Butters nodded enthusiastically. “They should have a table already.”
“Alright, see ya.” Stan slammed the door and marched off towards the diner.
As soon as his back was turned, Kenny turned to Butters and took his wallet out of his parka hood. They snickered.
“Mission success!” Butters laughed.
“So far, so good,” Kenny agreed.
…
Stan blew out a breath of air and watched it turn white and frosty. It was just as cold here as it was in Colorado. At least Kyle probably wasn’t homesick.
Kyle.
Stan’s been trying to hype himself up for the past hour, but he still has no clue what he’s going to say when he sees him. “Hey, sorry for ghosting you! So good to see you!” or “I know we haven’t talked in ages, but I’ve been thinking about you a lot! It’s the thought that counts, right?” There were even worse possibilities, but Stan tried his best to cram them down every time they popped up.
But regardless of whether he was ready or not, this was happening. Right here. Right now.
…Fuck, he sorta felt like throwing up.
At least Cartman would be there (the only time Stan had and would ever think this). And then as soon as they found Kenny’s damn wallet, Kenny and Butters would be there too and it’d be just like old times. Just them talking about stupid shit and making stupid jokes and telling stupid stories. It would be easy to avoid being stuck with Kyle one-on-one. Then he’d go home and finally figure out that text message.
Stan was so lost in his head that he didn’t realize how close he was getting to the diner. The moment his thoughts cooled down and he looked up, Stan saw him.
Same hat, same hair, slightly more mature air. And he was looking right at Stan. Fuck.
Stan slipped on a patch of ice and nearly ate shit. Thankfully, he didn’t. He righted himself as fast as he could and smiled sheepishly, giving Kyle a terribly awkward wave. The wave was returned, equally awkward.
Stan squinted at the table Kyle was at. Aside from Kyle, it was completely empty. Kyle was sitting there…totally alone. What. The. Fuck?
Stan froze in place. Well, he couldn’t exactly turn around and go back to the car. Kyle had seen him already. But at the same time, he really didn’t want to go into that diner at this exact moment. Where the fuck was Cartman? Where was his buffer?
He glanced behind him to see if Kenny and Butters were coming. They were slowly getting out of the car, deep in conversation about something. But they were definitely coming.
Okay. This was fine. He’d have buffers soon. He could walk in and sit there with Kyle for a minute. He was pretty good at fucking things up, but he was pretty sure one minute was too short a time span for even him to fuck anything up.
Steeling his nerves, he crossed the distance to the front door of the diner.
…
“Aaaand he’s in!” Butters exclaimed.
Kenny shot Eric a text and waited for further instructions. They were both still a bit confused on how they were going to get into the diner and into the booth across from Stan and Kyle without being spotted, but Butters was sure Eric would figure it out.
In the meantime, they had to get disguised. Kenny helped Butters glue his fake mustache on while Butters buttoned Kenny’s absurdly long coat. Butters was pretty sure it was big enough to hold the fourth-grade versions of the five of them stacked on top of each other.
When they were finished, they gave each other a once over and burst out laughing.
“You look like you work a brutal 9 to 5 and smoke multiple packs a day,” Kenny snickered.
“You look like a detective that kills people to give himself cases,” Butters snorted.
“Harsh,” Kenny fake-pouted. Butters kissed it away. “I don’t know what Cartman was thinking with these disguises. We’re going to stand out way more like this.”
“At least they won’t recognize us!” Butters said genuinely.
“I think we’re still recognizable, Buttercup,” Kenny laughed.
Kenny’s phone went off and their attention both shot to the screen.
“Go in through the back door…use the velvet curtains as cover…crawl on the floor?? What the fuck?”
“Oh, shucks. So much for our super cool disguises,” Butters muttered. He knocked his knuckles together. “What’dya think Stan and Kyle are talking about?”
“I can guarantee you, not their feelings.”
…
“Hey, dude.”
“Hey.”
Like an idiot, Stan just stood there next to the booth. How did he and Kyle normally greet each other? Was there physical contact involved? A handshake? Hug? Head pat? Some weird combination of things he accidentally forgot about? Kyle made no move to do anything of that sort, so Stan quickly let it go.
But then the next problem arose. He didn’t know whether to sit next to Kyle or across from him. Which was worse? Brushing arms with him or looking him in the eye? They both seemed equally catastrophic to Stan. Maybe he should just sit on the goddamn floor at this point.
To Stan’s immense relief, Kyle ended his suffering by gesturing for him to sit across. Stan slid into the booth and cringed at how the vinyl screamed at him for doing so. Kyle made a face, too.
“So…” Stan started, hating the silence with a passion. “Where’s Cartman?”
“Bathroom,” Kyle responded, sipping his water. “...Where’s Kenny and Butters?”
“Coming. I think. They were trying to find Kenny’s wallet.”
Kyle nodded like this was very interesting. “Did they find it?”
“Think so.” Stan cleared his throat.
“Cool.”
“Yeah.”
Silence. Celine Dion belted a riff somewhere above them. “We’ll stay forever this way~” Stan ripped open his straw and chucked it into the water cup.
“Are those new glasses?” Stan tried, pointing at Kyle’s face.
“Nope.”
His face warmed. “Really?”
“Had them since senior year.”
“They look different.” Stan pondered. Did his cheekbones get slimmer? Was that a thing? “Maybe your face has changed a bit.”
Kyle shrugged. “Maybe. It’s been a little while since you last saw me.”
“Yeah.”
It really fucking has.
Silence. More Celine Dion. “My heart will go on~” They sipped their water at the same time. Stopped for air at the same time.
“Your hair’s a bit longer,” Kyle noted.
“Yours, too.” Stan didn’t notice until now. “Are you growing it out?”
“Not really. Just haven’t had time to cut it.” Kyle twirled a strand of it. “I’ll probably cut it soon.”
Stan nodded.
Silence, this time with a vengeance. Stan had never felt such an urge to punch something intangible. Kyle drummed his fingers on the table.
Stan glanced over Kyle’s shoulder towards the bathrooms. Nothing. He turned over his own shoulder towards the parking lot. Nothing. Where the fuck did Kenny and Butters disappear to? Stan pictured them making out in an alleyway somewhere. Or worse.
Was this their plan all along? Dump him with Kyle so they could get some alone time for Valentine’s Day? They really didn’t have to drive him all the way to Utah for that.
Stan shook his head a bit. He shouldn’t be worrying about that right now. Even though his buffers ditched him, he still had Kyle. He should make the most of it. He probably wouldn’t have the balls to come back up here for at least another nine months.
He opened his mouth to say something just as Kyle started to say something too.
“What-”
“How-”
They both stopped. Flushed.
“You can go.”
“No, you go.”
Kyle laughed a bit nervously.
“I was just going to ask what’s new with you.”
“Oh. Um. Nothing much. You know. Same old. Classes, studying. Writing music.”
Kyle smiled, small but genuine. “Glad you’re still doing that. It always made you really happy.”
Stan smiled too. “Yeah, it does.”
Stan’s chest fluttered. He couldn’t tell if that was a good or a bad thing.
“What about you? What have you been up to?”
“Ugh, too much shit,” Kyle groaned. “The speech and debate kids want to make my life a living hell, I swear to God.”
This felt familiar. Stan liked it.
“Is that kid Derek still trying to take credit for your argument against AI?”
Kyle’s eyes widened a bit. Stan guessed Kyle was surprised that Stan remembered a detail like that from ten goddamn months ago. Stan’s sort of surprised he remembered, too.
“Yeah, he is. The little bitch.”
Kyle looked up at Stan with an arched brow, silently asking if he should elaborate. Stan nodded, almost desperately. Kyle broke into a smile and leaned forward, the way he always did when he was about to roast the shit out of somebody.
Something clicked because within moments of Kyle’s rant, it felt like they were back in South Park, sharing a blanket on Stan’s couch and doing anything except for their homework sitting on the coffee table. Like rather than conversing for the first time in months, they were picking up where they left off on the bus that morning. It was a surreal feeling, like stepping into a time capsule. Stan had half a mind to pinch himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming (he didn’t, he’d already embarrassed himself enough today).
Before long, the awkward silences disappeared and their usual quips and banter resurfaced. Kyle vented about all the assholes in speech in debate and Stan regaled Kyle with tales of his greatest lab fails. Kyle explained in excruciating detail what it was like having Cartman as a roommate and Stan shared all his worse experiences with third-wheeling Butters and Kenny. Stan laughed more in thirty minutes than he’s laughed in the past six months, easy.
He really, really wanted to give Kyle a hug or something ‘cause Jesus Christ, it’s been so fucking long since he’s seen his super best friend, but it seemed a bit late for that now.
So instead, Stan let words do all the talking. There was a lull in the conversation, and Stan gave Kyle his most heartfelt smile.
“I really missed you, dude. It’s awesome to finally see you…and talk to you.”
Kyle froze a bit, caught off guard by the overwhelming honesty. But he quickly melted into a grin and a breathless laugh.
“I missed you, too. This is seriously the best. You’re the best.”
Stan felt like his face was on fire. Through sheer willpower he avoided choking on his own spit, and managed a meek “thanks” without imploding. Kyle laughed, more full-bodied this time.
“Sorry, that was kinda weird.”
“No!” Stan cleared his throat. “No, it wasn’t weird.”
Kyle blinked, then relaxed a bit. “Okay.”
Stan sipped his water cup. His throat was sore from talking so much.
“You’re the best. I’m really, seriously happy to see you.”
…
About half an hour earlier, Eric Cartman had slunk away to the bathroom to get changed. He waited patiently for the signal from Agents Stotch and McCormick. When he received the top secret message that Target 1 had entered the premise, he used his super kewl sneaky ninja skills to slide into the booth across from the targets, confirming that the path through the back door, behind the curtains, and across the floor was adequate for sneaking in his accomplices. After that, it was just a matter of waiting.
A couple minutes after Cartman settled in, he was joined by Agents Stotch and McCormick (who were almost caught multiple times, such as when McCormick nearly burst out laughing at a pickup line scrawled on the wall, or when Stotch tripped on McCormick’s coat and nearly faceplanted).
“Cartman, why the fuck are you wearing fucking disguise glasses?” Kenny whispered as he slid into the booth, keeping his head ducked in case Stan or Kyle glanced over.
“That’s Agent Cartman to you, McCormick,” Cartman hissed back. “And I told you guys. Kewl disguises. Not hippie suits!”
“These are totally ‘kewl,’ dick. You’re the one who sticks out like a sore thumb.”
“Shh! I wanna hear what they’re saying, fellas,” Butters muttered.
“Very good point, Agent Stotch,” Cartman said approvingly.
“Dick,” Kenny repeated.
“Suck it.”
“Shh!”
Cartman’s plans are always foolproof. This is fact. So it was not his fault, nor his genius plan’s fault, if the people involved went completely off the flawless script he’d written in his head. And Stan and Kyle were terrible improvisers.
Several times, Cartman nearly sprang out of his seat to give the fuckers a piece of his mind (“What is with these terrible awkward silences?! You guys are ruining everything!”), and Kenny and Butters had to yank him back into his seat before he actually ruined the plan. Luckily, Stan and Kyle were very focused on staring at their water cups, or the salt shaker on the table, or their hands, or anything that was not each other, so they didn’t notice Cartman popping in and out of their peripheral view.
And though Kenny and Butters scolded Cartman’s impatience, they too twitched and writhed every time Stan or Kyle trailed off and let the conversation die. Frustrating didn’t even begin to describe it. In fact, Cartman realized this was probably the angriest he’d ever seen Kenny or Butters (not including Mysterion or Hawaiian Butters’ crash outs; those were outliers).
“Did I ever mention I thought this was a terrible idea,” Kenny grumbled.
“Now, now, Ken,” Butters said, voice shaking in an attempt to stay calm. “These are just some icebreakers they have to…you know. Break.”
“Except they have toothpicks instead of hammers,” Kenny grunted.
“Agent McCormick, do not lose sight of the objective,” Cartman scolded.
“Drop the ‘Agent’ shit, dude. It’s lame.”
Cartman gasped, offended. “Lame? You’re lame. You big fat lame-o.”
Kenny flipped him off.
The waiter dropped by to take their order. He gave the three a mildly concerned look upon seeing their getup, but made no comment other than “...Welcome in, sirs. Again (directed at Cartman).” Kenny and Butters had to repeatedly cancel Cartman’s Mountain Dew orders because the resultant burps and farts were sure to give them away. But fighting over drinks at least distracted them from the horrors occurring on the other side of the booth. Cartman swore if Stan and Kyle didn’t lock in this instant, he was going to get his hands on that Mountain Dew and Kenny’s lighter, and Dragonshout this fucking place to oblivion.
Fortunately for all of their physical and mental wellbeings, the conversations finally picked up. Butters noticed the shift first.
“Fellas! It’s happening!”
“What?!”
Cartman and Kenny rushed to slam their ears against the wooden part of the divider, listening in on their friends’ more animated conversation.
“Butters, you idiot. Nothing’s happening. They just stopped stumbling over their words like Scott frickin Malkinson.”
“No, Eric, it’s happening!”
“They’re not confessing yet, Buttercup.”
“Oh, they will. I believe in them a hundred percent!”
“Eh. I’m fifty-fifty.”
“This better be a hundred fucking percent, or else I don’t get to tell Kinny ‘I told you so.’”
Butters and Cartman’s percentages both dropped about ten percent as the conversations dragged on, veering farther and farther away from deep, personal feelings, and closer and closer to mindless everyday chatter and small talk. Cartman sighed. This is the kind of bullshit these fuckers should have been texting about for the past nine months instead of staring longingly at old polaroids. Now the plan was way behind schedule. If they took too fucking long, the diner was gonna close before Cartman got his confession or his Snacky Cakes Combo.
“They’ll…They’ll get there…” Butters insisted, a little disheartened. Kenny gave him a sympathetic back rub and kissed his temple.
Fifteen minutes, twenty. It got even worse when Stan and Kyle started talking about Cartman, Kenny, and Butters. If the three were pissed off before, they were livid now, listening to themselves be disrespected like that.
“I’m a perfectly organized roommate! Kyel is the one whose shit is ‘organized’ completely out of whack!”
“I literally told Stan to leave if he didn’t want to watch us make out for the next 10 minutes. And he didn’t. Whose fault is that?”
“Aww, Ken, I told you he wasn’t asleep that time! He heard everything! Stupid B.J…”
Kenny complained that they were triple dead now if Stan and Kyle found out this was a setup.
“Kyle’s gonna obliterate us for spying…” Kenny groaned.
“It’s a sacrifice for the greater good,” Cartman said, punctuated with a jab to Kenny’s ribs.
“Ow!”
“Quiet, they’re gonna hear us.”
“You’re the one who fucking assaulted me!”
“FELLAS! IT’S ACTUALLY HAPPENING!”
“WHAT?!”
They all immediately shut up and listened. Cartman heard the words “I missed you” and gagged. Butters’ eyes got shiny and Kenny grinned wide enough to crack his skin.
“What are you gaywads so emotional about?”
Butters shook his head. “You wouldn’t understand, Eric, don’t you worry about it!”
Cartman muttered “faggots” under his breath and tuned back into the conversation, only to tune right back out. “Jesus, they’re really fucking gay.”
“You’re just realizing that?” Kenny quipped.
Cartman shook off the icky feeling. This stage meant it was time for the final phase of the plan. The one that should really tip this over into romcom confession territory.
“Waiter! Here, please!”
The waiter scuttled over and held out his notepad.
“I’d like to buy the two in the booth over there a ‘Lovers Milkshake’.”
“Of course, sir.”
As the waiter hurried off to put in the order, Kenny spun to gawk at Cartman. “What are you doing?! I think they’re about to confess, dude. Genuinely.”
“Exactly. I’m just speeding the process along. They need to kiss already so I can get my money and my Snacky Cakes.”
“Money?” Butters asked innocently.
Kenny facepalmed. “Of course you got Kyle here by making a bet.”
“It was the only way! He was very stubborn, actually. I bet I had a harder time convincing him than you did convincing Stan.”
“Maybe we should’ve switched targets…” Kenny grumbled.
“Eric, what’s the milkshake for?”
Kenny snapped back to attention. “Right, the milkshake. What the fuck?”
“Have you guys never seen a romcom either? You all are so terribly uncultured,” Cartman shook his head sadly. “Obviously, if a stranger buys a couple a milkshake with two straws, the characters are forced to drink it together. Bada boom bada bang. Confession. Done.”
Kenny considered this. “That’s…kinda cute in theory, but dude! What if they realize it’s us that bought it for them?! They can do this on their own! Cancel the goddamn order!”
“You’re paranoid, Kinny. The waiter will just tell them it was a gift from a kind stranger, and they’ll have no choice but to accept it.”
Butters glanced around the diner. It was nearly empty. “Um, Eric? There aren’t an awful lot of kind strangers around to gift them a milkshake.”
Cartman rolled his eyes and kicked his feet up. “Trust me, guys. This is foolproof. Have I ever steered you wrong before?”
“Yes,” Butters replied automatically. Cartman scowled.
“Several times,” Kenny agreed. He held up a hand to stop Cartman from interjecting. “But…not yet in this particular area of expertise. I suppose.”
Cartman smirked. “We’re so close to the ‘I told you so’, Kinny.”
“The milkshake! It’s coming!”
…
Stan felt like he had crossed a line somewhere. Their conversations were rapidly veering away from the safe topics of school and friends, and taking a hard left turn into the “emotions” territory. It made Stan squirm a bit. Was it too late to backtrack?
“Hey…I’m really sorry I stopped texting you.”
Yup. Too late. Kyle was addressing the elephant in the room. No turning back now.
“I got so caught up in school stuff I forgot to…have a social life. But even if I was busy, I shouldn’t have ditched you like that…”
Crap, Stan couldn’t let Kyle take all the blame. He had to say something too.
“It’s not just your fault, dude,” he quickly cut in. “I didn’t reach out either. That was pretty shitty of me.”
There was a whole lot more that Stan could say on the subject, but the words got stuck in his throat. Did he say enough? How much was enough? How much was too much?
Kyle chuckled. “So…we’re both assholes, then?”
“Something like that,” Stan said with a half smile.
There was a pause. The perfect opportunity for Stan to speak up. He just needed some water to loosen the words up and then they’d slip right out…
“Excuse me, sirs. I have a ‘Lovers Milkshake’ for you.”
Stan resisted the urge to cuss the guy out. He couldn't have waited five fucking minutes?
Kyle narrowed his eyes at the milkshake. Giant sundae cup, strawberry syrup, whipped cream and cherries. …Two straws.
Stan’s eyes ping-ponged between the sweet treat and Kyle.
Two straws. One milkshake. Two people. ‘Lovers’...
“We didn’t order this,” Kyle said firmly.
Stan internally screamed for Kyle to shut up and drink the goddamn milkshake with him. Mistake or not, Stan was pretty sure this was a romantic trope of some sort, and he needed all the help he could get.
The waiter looked contemplative for a moment before speaking up.
“The gentlemen over there purchased it for you.”
He pointed to the booth across the divider. Stan and Kyle’s necks snapped as they turned their heads.
A quiet “oh shit!” was clearly audible, but what was even more surprising was the head that ducked a moment too late.
“Cartman?!?!?!?!” Kyle yelled in disbelief.
Stan and Kyle both stood up on the booths and looked over the divider.
“Kenny????? Butters?????”
Sure enough, sitting there in the booth were their friends, wearing the most horrendous disguises Stan had ever seen, staring up at them wide-eyed. If that didn’t scream guilt, Stan didn’t know what did.
“What the fuck is wrong with you guys?!?!?!” Kyle cried, towering over them and making them cower.
Stan stood there, very confused, but more so, annoyed. He had a feeling he was never going to get a chance like this ever again in his lifetime, and these idiots might have just blown it for him. He looked over at Kyle, who was positively seething, already firing off questions about how long they had been there, why they had ditched the hangout and pulled this shit, what the big idea was in general, all the important questions. But Stan really only had one on his mind. Was Stan going to do it?
He’s pretty sure the ideal time to do it had passed a while ago. Maybe even multiple times. But really, that was just another excuse, wasn’t it?
He could do it. There was no reason why he couldn’t. It was just some words. Words that he’d spent nine months trying to curate properly. And failed.
Never mind that, those were more excuses! This…was something that was meant to be shared. As messy as it was. The other day Kenny had said that Kyle would be happy to hear from Stan, no matter what he said. Sure, this situation was a bit different, but the concept was the same, right?
Stan inhaled deeply. That was enough thinking. No psyching himself out.
He gathered every drop of courage in his being and pulled on Kyle’s sleeve.
“-Cartman, I swear to fucking- What is it Stan?!”
“I love you.”
Everything in the room froze. A fork dropped somewhere. Everyone gaped at Stan with their mouths hung wide open. Kyle blinked several times, then made a move to say something, but Stan knew he had to get everything out right that instant.
“Like, as in, I’m in love with you. Have been for…a long time? I don’t know how long. I…didn’t mean to stop texting, I just thought one day ‘this text needs to perfectly convey the way I feel about you or else it’s not worth sending’ and it was…never right. Every day, I’d try to write this stupid confession text and scrap it by the end of the day, thinking I’d find the right words the next day, but…I never did. Then I thought about calling you but I thought the sound of your voice would trip me up and make me chicken out so text was the best option, but it never worked, ‘cause I’m really bad with words and you’re really not so I felt like-”
Throughout Stan’s rambling he physically could not look Kyle in the eye, choosing to look everywhere but there, so he didn’t see how Kyle got progressively redder the more Stan talked—redder than his hair and the velvet curtains and the maraschino cherries on the milkshake that was still sitting innocently on the table. And Kyle is very bad at keeping quiet, but he really didn’t want to interrupt Stan, and yet at the same time, he really, really, really needed to do something before Stan passed out from lack of oxygen. There was only one logical course of action.
Kyle stepped onto the table, grabbed a fistful of Stan’s collar, and kissed him hard.
It was a truly terrible kiss. Stan nearly fell backwards into the next booth over at the sudden impact, and was only saved by the waiter pushing him upright at the last second. Kyle misjudged the angle and slammed their noses together before their lips even touched. And the kiss ended mere seconds after it started when Stan choked on spit (his or Kyle’s, he had no clue) and had to push Kyle away to cough it up.
“Wow. That was rough,” Cartman commented as Kyle made sure Stan wasn't dying.
“Shut up, fatass,” Kenny elbowed him and kept watching the show wide-eyed and grinning. Butters wiped away a single tear.
“You good?” Kyle asked, a bit breathless.
“I think so,” Stan laughed, still in shock in so many different ways.
“Wanna try again?”
“Fuck, yes.”
This time, they took it slower, Kyle cupping Stan’s face with both hands and Stan wrapping his arms around Kyle’s neck. Kyle learned from his past experience and fixed the angle of intersection, tilting Stan’s head and bringing their lips together softly. They both tasted like the stupid lemon water they had been guzzling the past half hour, and smelled like dollar-store vanilla candles, but the way the kiss toed the line between romantic and ridiculous was perfect for the two of them.
When Kyle pulled back, Stan whined and tried to chase after him for more, but Kyle put his hand up to block his lips.
“Hold on a second, dude.”
Stan blinked up at him, dazed and love drunk. Kyle found it hard to believe that look was meant for him. The sheer intensity of Stan’s gaze made Kyle completely lose his ability to think rationally and form intelligible words. It took an alarming amount of self control not to go back to kissing him senseless. Fuck, he sorta owed Cartman $50. But that was a later problem.
“I love you, too, Stan. I love…shit, everything about you. I don’t know who I’d be today without you.”
“Still totally kickass.”
Kyle blushed. “Not the point. I…” his mind went blank again as Stan played with the hair at his nape. “...am not as good with words as you think I am, Jesus fuck.”
“Yeah, words suck,” Stan mused.
“Says the lyricist,” Kyle scoffed. He thought about just letting his lips do the talking, but his brain sparked to life long enough to give him a coherent sentence. He had a lot more to say, but this should sum it all up for now.
“Stan?”
Stan hummed, giving Kyle his full attention.
“Will you be my Valentine?”
A dopey grin spread across Stan’s face. “If you’ll be mine.”
“Fuck, yes.”
Stan crashed their lips together once more, but it was a bit hard to kiss when their grins were each a mile wide. Kenny and Butters couldn’t silence their coos of delight. Cartman magically procured a party popper and unleashed a storm of heart-shaped confetti over their heads. A camera flash went off, but no one paid too much mind to it. There was applause and cheers and wolf whistles as Stan and Kyle kissed once more, sloppy and sweet and riddled with giggles.
“Uh, guys. Your milkshake is melting,” Cartman said.
The happy couple looked down at the forgotten dessert, sagging and drooping, but still standing.
Stan smiled at it, then looked back up at Kyle.
“Shall we?”
“After you, ‘lover,’” Kyle grinned.
He took enormous pleasure in the instantaneous flush of Stan’s cheeks.
The two settled back down into their original seats opposite each other and slurped their milkshake. More whoops and camera flashes filled the room as Stan and Kyle leaned forward and bumped foreheads. Laughter sweeter than the milkshake itself rang out and harmonized with Celine Dion like a serenade. And somewhere out in the world, a happy little Cupid flitted about with a grin, giddy over another successful match.