Chapter Text
Stan had thought his week couldn’t get any worse. He’d thought that the lowest point was his dad getting intoxicated and going off at everyone in the house, storming out for the night. He thought that it couldn’t possibly get any lower than that. He was so, incredibly wrong.
To distract himself from the shit show that was his family, he’d gone around to Eric’s house with Kenny, hoping to get high and forget about his problems. Unfortunately, this little hangout had only made things worse for him.
Firstly, he was bummed out Kyle wasn’t there. Even if the ginger was just going to berate them for getting high and smoking, Stan truly did enjoy his company. He was smart, funny, pleasant to look at, and good at giving advice when things went south; so, truly, his presence was really needed. Yet there was no explanation as to *why* he couldn’t come, he was ‘busy’, like he’d been for the past couple weeks, always coming up with excuses to skip seeing their group.
Secondly, Kenny had forgot his fucking weed. And it wasn’t like Stan could go get some, no. He and his family and finally left that god awful, illegal farm behind a few months back, so there was no home-grown marijuana for him to snag anyone. That was the only downside of being back in South Park, he actually had to look for shit to smoke now.
And lastly, this meet-up with his friends brought absolutely horrible news to him, something that made him go absolutely mental. Nothing could have ever prepared him for this information.
Without weed, they’d opted for shitty corona cans that Stan was positive had been sitting in Eric’s fridge for at least three weeks, but it was the best he could get. The taste of shitty beer really only made him feel worse, washing down his throat with the worst aftertaste he’d ever experienced, he had just wished someone had brought *something* to smoke.
But, before he could suggest just very quickly nipping back to Kenny’s to grab the weed pretty please, the blonde boy gasped, looking at his phone in genuine shock. “No fucking way dude!”
“What? What’s happening?” Stan and Eric both shot up at the sudden noise, crowding round Kenny to peer at his phone to find out what was so interesting. Kenny’s phone displayed a post on Tolkien’s private snap story, containing a photo of Kyle, sitting across the table at a café, looking all pretty and dressed up, yet slightly flushed. That was nothing out of the ordinary, they were good friends, after all. They were allowed to go out. But then Stan read the text on the screen.
*’On a date and this bitch starts talking about the fucking respiratory system 😭’*
The fuck? Had he misread that? Surely, he had to have misread it. Kenny’s phone screen was all cracked, so the words probably just got muddled up.
Nope, snatched the phone from Kennys hand and re-read the text over and over again, so utterly confused.
This had to be a joke of some sort. But it was nowhere near April 1st to be something to do with that, it was probably just a harmless prank to see how people reacted. That was all. Or maybe they were just waiting for other people to join and thought it’d be funny to say they were on a date?
Yeah! they were just waiting for others, everything was fine. Stan didn’t have to worry about his two best friends dating, because they weren’t! All was fine. Phew.
He ran a hand down his face, trying to steady his thoughts. Everything was okay. They weren’t dating. All was fine.
“Dude, Stanley, you good?” Kenny’s voice snapped him out of his spiralling, his mind stilling for a moment.
“I- I’m fine, dude. Um. Just, y’know. Surprised?” He could tell his voice shook as he spoke.
“Well I’m not shocked at all. Of course Kyle would be the one to get into a relationship with Tolkien, I’ll bet he just wants his money, the greedy jew…”
“Cartman, shut up. You can’t be salty over him dumping you for forever, you know. At some point you have to move on.”
“Shut up, you poor arsehole!”
Kenny and Eric fell into their bickering, but their voices just became a buzz in the background for Stan. He felt his head spin, a migraine forming as he began to think up some plausible excuse of explanation for what was going on. He had very quickly come to terms with it, realising how dense he was being earlier. His Super Best Friend was going out with the guy he had an ongoing situationship with. Fuck, this was awful!
He felt like he was falling behind, and it fucking sucked! Eric was with Heidi, although it was very clear he didn’t want to be, but he still scored a girl, and Kenny seemed to attract almost every girl who looked his way, his current fling being Bebe Stevens. They were actually pretty cute together, and it seemed to be Kenny’s longest relationship. Stan was jealous.
—
School on Monday fucking sucked. He tried to find either of the pair in the halls before their classes, but they were all nowhere to be found. Stan only managed to talk to one of them during their twenty minute break.
The familiar mop of red curls stood out in any crowd, so locating his best friend out on the field was pretty easy. But talking to him wasn’t. All throughout his first and second period, Stan had been rehearsing what to say and how to confront him, but when Kyle smiled when they caught each other’s eyes, his words blanked. He stood frozen for a good few seconds, but finally catching up.
“Were you going to ever tell me?” Was all he managed to get out.
Kyle’s smile didn’t falter all that much, it only softened, he looked so… *happy.* “Well I’ve been trying to find you, I’m just, y’know, very excited. But I kinda have to, um, keep it quiet. I can’t have too many people knowing, cause if my parents find out…”
“Oh. Right, yeah. But still! I’m your best friend, dude! You know I’d never judge you!”
“I know that. It’s just difficult. Just… don’t go off telling people, yeah?”
“Yeah.” Stan finally returned the smile, before Kyle turned and walked off, presumably to go find his new boyfriend. A pit formed in his stomach.
The next couple weeks passed by, and Stan felt worse by the day. He’d see the stories from either of them when they were out on dates or just hanging out with others as a group. They looked really cute, but he couldn’t help to be jealous.
Sometimes, he’d see the two of them walking side-by-side in the school halls or sitting together at lunch, or in town or sitting at Starks pond. That was what annoyed him most.
He had always used to sit on the bench at the pond with Kyle. They’d talk and talk until the street lights came on the water stilled. They’d leave when the stars became visible, but they’d end up going to Stand house afterwards, begging their parents for a sleepover. Most of the time, it didn’t work and Kyle would be demanded home by his mother. But those few times he was allowed were the some of the best nights Stan ever had.
They would stay up way too late into the night, both delirious and giggling at everything. They’d fall asleep in Stan’s bed, only to wake up tangled the next morning. Neither of them moved when they woke up, only holding on tighter.
Seeing him do those special things with another person truly broke his heart, he’d thought it was special to them; he thought what they had was special.
Then there was Tolkien.
Their… ‘relationship’ was more complicated. Stan counted him as a friend, for sure. But sometimes he felt more than that. More than friends, but less than lovers. It confused him, but he couldn’t bring himself to ask what they were.
Stan loved talking with Tolkien, he loved playing games with him, calling him late into the night, smoking and drinking with him. He loved dragging him into town and studying with him and laughing at all his jokes. Everything seemed calmer once they were around each other.
But when they did get drunk, Stan got stupid—they both did. He’d kiss him, and then Tolkien would kiss back, and things would blur and muddle up in his mind. He never remembered the night fully once he woke up, all the evidence he had were the marks on his neck and the hangover he had. If they got together on school nights, Stan would sneak into his sisters room—before he had to leave his house to catch the bus—and snag her makeup, desperately covering up the red blotches on his skin. The only person who ever really noticed was Kenny, but he was smart enough to not bring it up more than once.
Safe to say, Stan hated this. He hated that he’d lost his friends. All he could do was confide in the one person who he had left—Kenny.
God, Kenny was so fucking awesome. Stan admired him in every sense; his confidence, his honest nature, how he put his all into things, how he cared for all the people around him, and how it was clear he was trying to make a name for himself.
At some point in their tween years, Stan’s pity for the poor boy had turned into genuine care and empathy. He began to see the boy for what he truly was; a kind soul. Kenny was always there when someone needed a shoulder to cry on, always giving up his time to make room for his friends, always helping them study, even in his own emotions.
There were very few times that he’d seen Kenny cry, it seemed like he was constantly holding back, and Stan hated that. He hated that the blonde never seemed comfortable enough to truly open up, so he felt especially shitty now that he was coming round with another problem he needed off his chest.
He’d asked Kenny to come to Starks pond at around seven, knowing that the blonde would be about twenty minutes late, his time management was horrid.
So Stan waited, staring up at the darkening sky and the appearing stars as the sun set in the west, over the hills of the countryside. It reminded him of his nights with Kyle, but he didn’t dare dwell on that for more than a second. He was here to get his emotions out, not feel them more.
Eventually, footsteps followed up to the bench and a blonde boy placed him next to Stan, almost immediately pulling out a cigarette and lighting it.
Kenny took one drag, blew out the smoke and offered it up. “So, what’d’ya wanna talk about, hm?”
Stan gladly took it, copying Kenny’s action as he spoke. “I am so fucked, dude. This whole thing with Kyle and Tolkien… It’s got me fucked up.” He handed the fag back, rubbing a hand over his cheek. Truly, there was no better way to get his feelings out than this. “Like, I wouldn’t care if it were just one of them who’d gotten a boyfriend or girlfriend, or even if they were both dating other people, but, like… each other ? I don’t get it! I thought maybe one of them would consider me in this—“ he ignored the side glance he was getting from Kenny, knowing he was being judged “—after all, they’re all super close to me! Kyle always asks me before he gets with anyone and he always tells me when he has a crush! I just don’t understand what’s different now!”
There was a silence as Stan caught his breath, worked up from spilling the words from his mouth. He hadn’t meant to ramble, even if it was just for a bit, and he was waiting for the inevitable snicker that was bound to come his way.
But it didn’t happen. Instead, Kenny sighed, smoke curling up from his lips and dissipating into the night sky above. “You know what I think?”
“Um… no, what do you think?”
“I think—“ he took another hit, shorter this time, the smoke exiting his mouth as he spoke—“that it’s none of your business. If Kyle doesn’t tell you something, it doesn’t mean he hates you, he could’ve just been embarrassed. It’s not like you need to know everything about the guy. He’s his own person. He can make his own decisions without you.”
The honestly knocked Stan back to reality. He had been a bit… well. possessive, really. Kenny was right, though. He wasn’t one to dictate who Kyle dated. If the boy really wanted to date Tolkien, then he couldn’t really do anything to stop him. He didn’t have claims over him, and he didn’t own him. He was just being an arsehole.
But still… “I just don’t understand why he didn’t tell me—“
“Stanley, dude. Chill out. It’s not exactly all that acceptable for two guys to dating here, so I’m not really surprised he didn’t tell you.” Kenny passed the cigarette over to Stan, fiddling with his fingers in his lap. It was cold and dark out, he couldn’t help but admire the freckled sky above him.
“Oh. Um, right. I guess that makes sense...” He took the cigarette and brought it up to his lips, inhaling softly. He held the smoke for no more than five seconds, before blowing it up. “You got any weed on you?”
“Yeah, one second.”
The night passed by, both boys ending up stoned out of their minds, but they eventually parted ways, and Stan found himself lonely in his room again. Slowly, but surely, he came down from his high, the elated feeling fading into something more worn-out and tired. Fuck, he really wanted to call Kyle. Or Tolkien. But they were both probably together, kissing and acting like boyfriends, and that pissed Stan off. Why wasn’t there one person, other than Kenny, that he could talk to. Maybe the blonde was all he had left? Well, there was Eric, but he was not a good person to talk to regarding feelings. He was more of a revenge guy.
Exhaustion slowly washed over him, and, still in his clothes, Stan passed out on his bed, sprawled out above his duvet.
—
A bright beam of light that shone through Stan’s bedroom window was the thing to wake him up, practically blinding him as he groggily opened his eyes. Fuck, he hadn’t even gotten changed out of his clothes last night. He needed a shower, and food. And, God, was he starving.
The boy dragged himself into the bathroom, lazily stripping himself of his clothes. For a moment, he just looked at himself in the mirror.
His hair was greasy and messy, bags under his eyes. his lips chapped and his scarred form hunched. He couldn’t tell what had made him this way, his family, maybe? Probably. That was… most definitely it. His family fucking sucked, apart from Shelley, of course. But she was in London for her stupid Theatre course at University.
Stepping into and turning on the shower, Stan shivered at his body being exposed to the cold, then immediately drenched in cold water. He washed the dirt off his arms, the filth out of his hair, and the shame off his skin. The water didn’t heat up—it never did—but he eventually got used to it, numb to the freezing feeling.
He finished in the shower, changed into his school uniform, packed his bag, and ran out the front door, all without being caught by either of his parents in a ten minute conversation about his newfound responsibilities. He managed to get to the bus stop five minutes before it should’ve arrived, and, unlike usual, he was the last one there.
Kenny was excitedly chatting to Kyle about some stupid music they both liked, making his stomach feel all twisted. He didn’t bother trying to catch up with what the blonde was saying, deciding to greet, and only greet, the fatass instead. He was too tired to even attempt to have an actual conversation with anyone.
“Hey Cartman.”
“Hey fag.”
Often, their conversations were just like this; short greetings. Both of them understood that there was never a need for a dialogue between them. Sure, they spoke about games and complained and gossiped together during group hangouts, but, lately, that had been the extent of their relationship. Maybe Stan would try more and make a bigger effort to talk to Cartman and actually catch up with him after all this time.
His thoughts were interrupted with the school bus screeching as it pulled in front of the boys, causing Stan to cringe in discomfort.
Secondary school to Stan was, as it was to most children, the equivalent of hell. Especially at their humble Catholic school, tucked away in the countryside of the midlands. The teachers were strict, religion was forced into almost every other subject, conduct was so incredibly important to the school, the rules were applied harshly, and, to make matters worse, the weather was shit.
During the months of September through May, it was constant rain and occasional hail or thunder, during June the sun poked out for a few days, and during July and August, Stan felt as if his skin was melting. Worse, they couldn’t take the thick blazers off during class, tied had to be on and top buttons had to be done up at all times, they weren’t allowed to wear shorts, and the AC system was consistently broken.
Currently, it was February, so it was fucking freezing outside, the field frozen over and most of the ‘temporary’ buildings leaking with water. Stan was lazily lounging in the library, listening to whatever stupid shit Clyde and Kenny were bickering about. Tweek and Craig were also there, both boys looking over the blonde’s PA homework. So Stan was left to drown in his own mind, occasionally catching glimpses of the conversations around him.
*“I don’t care if she’s your ex, she’s fit as hell, dude!”*
*“Okay, honey, let’s practice your third scene again. Try to not stumble over your words, this time…”*
At some point, he’d stopped tuning in completely. Instead, his attention was caught by a familiar flash of red. Fuck, why was Kyle everywhere lately? They’d hardly spoken since he’d found out about it. Maybe he was just embarrassed? But things seemed fine since they’d last spoken… He was probably just overthinking this. Kyle was just focusing on his new… uh, boyfriend, things were fine. He wasn’t being ignored.
A shiver ran through him, fuck, was it still raining outside? He was gonna get drenched… Clyde suddenly grabbing his bag and storming out the practically silent room caught his attention, and so did the hand on his shoulder.
“You wanna talk, Stan?”