Chapter Text
Stan Marsh let out a huff as he sat down, the weight of classes and the past summer rolling off his back. With relationship problems, new classes and a new school year, Stan just wanted to sit down and eat his lunch. Why did he feel like senior year in high school was going to be something different? Stan couldn’t put a finger on it. Whether it was going to be positive or negative, there was something in the air that he felt was…off.
Perhaps it had something to do with his Super Best Friend sitting with the notorious ‘Heathers.’ He even looked different. Those cherry-red curls were cut shorter and styled. He was wearing a blue jean jacket and black turtle neck with well-fitted jeans. What Stan was seeing out of the corner of his eye was not his Super Best Friend, not really. Perhaps if he kept looking, he could see the Kyle he knew under all the brand labeled clothes.
“God, Stan, stare any harder you might just fuck Kyle right there,” Cartman said, breaking Stan out of his semi-trance. Looking back at his tray, with the burger that didn’t look like meat and cold French fries, Stan fought off a blush that threatened its way to his cheeks.
“I wasn’t staring,” Stan muttered, dipping a few fries into the blob of ketchup on his tray and shoving it in his mouth. “I’m…observing. It’s just a lot to take in.” His mumbled words and shrug were as convincing as when his mom tells Randy she loves him.
Stan felt a pair of eyes bore into him. Looking over he sees Kenny’s blue eyes stare back into his down, peeking out from the fur of his parka hood. Stan could also see the skeptical look and raised eyebrow the blond was giving him, as if to say, ‘really, dude?’
“What?” Stan asked, unintentionally with a sharper tone. Taking a moment, he centered himself, something he heard Craig often suggest to Tweek when his boyfriend was freaking out. Surprisingly, it seemed to work. Finally meeting Kenny’s gaze once more, Stan said once more in a calmer tone, “What is it?”
“Nothing,” Kenny shrugged, his bottom lip pouty. “It’s just that…you were staring, man.”
“Dude, Kyle looks different,” Stan gestured vaguely in the direction of his Super Best Friend. “Plus look who he’s around. It’s not natural.”
“Maybe Kyle’s finally getting in touch with his feminine side,” Cartman cut in, through his barbeque slathered ribs. “Took long enough.”
“Really, Cartman?” Stan sighed, slightly exasperated. “Just ‘cause he’s not straight doesn’t mean he’ll fall into the stereotypes.”
“To quote someone else,” Cartman started, a mocking presentational tone to his cant, “’I’m observing.”
“Like I said before, it’s just fucking weird,” Kenny interjected, his meager lunch already eaten. Seeing this, Stan passed over his other half of his burger, to which Kenny accepted with no reluctance. “Kyle usually never gives a shit about something as surface level as looks. You’re his ‘Super Best Friend,’ Stan, you have to agree with that.”
“Ugh,” Stan groaned, starting to pile the garbage from his lunch onto the tray. “Whatever, I’m gonna go get ready for class.”
“Don’t forget to let me look at your homework for English!” Cartman made sure Stan heard as the football player walked away, over the conversation. He glanced over, seeing Kyle slightly overwhelmed by the other three girls, his expression telling all. One part of being so close to someone was having the ability to basically tell the emotion behind every movement. The way Kyle sat, away from them just slightly and his hands playing with his utensils, the food before him barely touched, told Stan everything. Kyle was just as uncomfortable as Stan felt.
But, as Stan once more looked over his shoulder at Kyle, he couldn’t help but let the small thought at the back of his mind come forward. Kyle was beautiful.
Just as Stan made it over to the drop-off area for the trays, he bumped into someone.
“Oof, sorry,” he said, looking in front of him to see the back of Tolkien’s head, his neck bent down as if staring at the ground. “Oh, hey Tolkien.”
“Hey, Stan,” the other boy said, turning around to revealing a wet stain now on the front of his dark purple sweater.
“Fuck, did I do that? Sorry,” Stan said, one hand coming to rub the back of his neck uncomfortably.
“I mean, you did bump into me,” Tolkien stated, looking up at Stan, his gaze undecipherable. “Guess I’ll have to get this dry-cleaned, again.” A deep sigh came from Tolkien, making Stan’s heart speed up as he grew more anxious. Fuck, the worst Tolkien to run into was the calm before the storm Tolkien. The one who could explode at you and curse you out, or the one that could seethe with anger for days on end, making one’s life a living, anxiety-ridden hell.
“I can pay-“ Stan started, but was promptly cut off by the other boy raising his hand.
“Don’t worry. It just means I’ll have to change before my date with Nichole tonight,” Tolkien said, walking past Stan, patting his shoulder in a domineering kind of way, as if establishing some sort of dominance. “See you in class, Stan.”
“Uh, you too,” was all Stan could get out as Tolkien stalked away, joining his usually friend group. He must have said something as he joined the group, as Stan received a variety of looks from the others after Clyde pointed most likely to the stain caused by the other boy. Waving awkwardly, only to receive a blank stare back from Craig, whose arm rested around the shoulders of a twitching Tweek and confused Clyde. Turning around, Stan dumped the remains of his lunch into the garbage bin, leaving the tray with the other discarded lunch trays and walked toward the cafeteria doors. To say the least, Stan just wanted the rest of the day to go by without any more absurdities happen.
The final bell of the school day rang, indicating freedom for Stan Marsh. Quickly closing his English book and stuffing it into his backpack, he looked up to see Kyle being ushered out of the classroom by Bebe, her lips close to his ear, whispering something that made his shoulders go rigged, just for a second but it was still visible to Stan’s trained eyes. He couldn’t place a finger on it, but what he was feeling was close to jealousy as he saw Bebe sweep Kyle away, unable to do anything. Kyle knew that Stan didn’t have football practice today, right?
Either way, Stan tried to ignore that gnawing envy, shoving it down like his book in his backpack. Fuck it if Garrison gave out English homework or readings. Slinging his bag over his shoulder, Stan tried not to appear too defeated, but feeling a bump on his side, Stan saw Kenny, who obviously read his mood like a book.
“God, Kyle’s gone for less than twelve hours and you’re a sulking mess,” Kenny said, his observant tone muddled by the scarf over the bottom half of his face.
“Shut up, dude,” Stan said in what one would call a whine. He pushed back at Kenny, only lightly, as the made his way to his locker, Kyle nowhere in sight. Starting to turn the lock as he entered his combination, Stan tried to ignore the burning gaze of Kenny McCormick. “Kyle can have other friends. I’ve said that before.”
“But he can’t be around them more than you in a day,” Kenny finished, waiting for a response from Stan, who remained silent, as if lost in thought. Coughing into his fist to gain Stan’s attention, which failed as Stan continued to go with the motions. Kenny then decided to go with his last resort. “Well, since you don’t have practice today, wanna get high?” The last part was in a higher tone, reminiscent of a drug addicted towel.
As if brought out of the trance, Stan looked at Kenny, a moment passing before he finally responded. “Fuck yeah.”
With that, the pair left. Heading toward Stan’s pickup, the football player held back the desire for Kyle to be in his passenger’s seat rather than Kenny. He was glad to have Kenny by his side, but there was something missing alongside Kyle.
As the pair got into Stan’s pickup, Kenny waited no time to pull out a bag of weed and paper, rolling a joint as Stan turned on his car. Looking over at Kenny before even putting the truck into reverse, Stan watched as Kenny took a drag of the joint, the smoke leaking out of his mouth and nose like a dragon.
“Couldn’t wait?” Stan asked, quickly averting his eyes as Kenny looked over, reveling in the feeling of the smoke.
“Like I said,” Kenny started, taking one more puff, “It’s been a weird fucking day.”
“You can say that again,” Stan said under his breath, pulling the gear stick into reverse. He placed a hand around the back of the passenger’s seat, a habit he formed when practicing with his dad, probably the one useful life tip Randy ever gave to Stan.
“Damn, if you want to hit on me, take me out to dinner first,” Kenny joked, taking note of the arm. Stan merely rolled his eyes at the joke, pulling the joint from Kenny’s hold as he took a breath in, handing it back after successfully backing out and started toward the Marsh house.
“I don’t think Butters would appreciate that,” Stan simply replied. This time, it was Stan’s turn to give Kenny a knowing look, to which the blond responded with silence, only taking another hit, blowing the smoke out of the cracked open window.
The pair continued this exchange, quips and hits as they drove the short distance to the Marsh household. Unless Kenny needed to pick up Karen right after school, he would join Stan and Kyle for an after-school hangout session or spend time with Butters. But, now it was just the two, a void missing.
The pair walked in, Sharon gone to work her receptionist job at Tom’s Rhinoplasty and Randy off to his precious farm. Kicking off his shoes and letting them land lord knows where, Stan went upstairs, leading the way with Kenny, who threw the joint stub outside of the house after finishing it off. Walking into his room, Stan decidedly flopped down onto his bed, with Kenny joining him a moment later.
The bouncing of the bed was soothing to Stan, whose mind stayed on one thing, or rather person. With red hair, bright, green eyes, and pale skinned dotted with a constellation of freckles, Kyle was always on Stan’s mind. He didn’t know why, perhaps it was because Kyle was a constant and welcomed presence in Stan’s life.
Kenny, with a newly rolled joint handed it over to Stan, who accepted it, breathing in the smoke as Kenny spoke. “You know, I hope that Kyle doesn’t forget about us.”
“What do you mean?” Stan was perplexed by this thought. “Kyle would never forget about us.”
Kenny simply let out a hard laugh, forcing it out. “C’mon, it’s high school. It’s bound to say that Kyle’s gonna forget about us when he spends more time with the Heathers.”
“He won’t,” Stan reached over, hitting Kenny. In response, Kenny sat up on his elbow, turning to face Stan directly.
“What makes you so sure? Because he’s your Super Best Friend? Or something more?”
Stan turned his head away, feeling a fierce blush take over his cheeks. “N-no,” he stammered out, silently cursing his fumbling manner. “I just know, okay?”
“Sure, dude,” Kenny said, his face telling Stan he didn’t believe a word the football player was saying. “Keep that straight façade up, I know your secrets.”
“It’s not a façade,” Stan’s mouth and words started to feel like cotton. The side-effects of weed were starting to take over his mind, making it feel as sluggish as his body felt. With the guards down, Stan continued, oblivious to Kenny starting to lean over him. “Besides, I can’t just appreciate Kyle?”
“He does have a nice ass,” Kenny mused, making Stan sit up and knocking the other boy off of him. Leaning against the wall, as his bed resided in a corner of his room, Stan continued to bemuse his thoughts of the redhead.
“Like, he was very beautiful before, dude. But now, with whatever Heidi, Nichole and Bebe did, he’s out-of-this-world beautiful now.” Looking back at Kenny, who sat beside Stan, the blond was just staring off, thinking about what Stan had just said.
“You’re not wrong. I mean, he’s not really my type, but then again, you seem to like smartasses. First Wendy, now Kyle-“
“I don’t like Kyle like that,” Stan quickly said, but each denial felt weaker than the one before. “Really, he’s just my Super Best Friend. Wendy is-was my girlfriend.” Even though they broke up at the beginning of the summer, it took Stan some time to realize that they were really broken up. They wouldn’t get together again, like how it used to be.
Kenny huffed, smoking billowing around the room. “That’s not just a river in Egypt, man. Like, what’s so bad about liking a guy? About liking Kyle more than a friend? Answer me that.”
The pushing nature of Kenny’s questions made Stan start to feel a sense of annoyance. He wasn’t denying anything. Was he? No, he was simply stating the truth, all he saw Kyle as was a friend. One who just happened to be more pleasing to look at. Besides, Father Maxi always spoke about how the Catholic Bible spoke about the sin of being queer. Although Stan knew that was wrong, look at Sparky, he still felt a pang of guilt whenever he considered himself to be anything but straight. Finally looking at Kenny, who handed him the joint as if knowing the anxieties that grew within Stan, the young Marsh boy was feeling uncertain.
“Honestly,” he finally found his voice, his throat feeling slightly thick and closed, not because of the smoke, “maybe? But, you can’t tell anyone.” Stan grabbed Kenny by the bicep, squeezing it to hopefully get his frantic plea across.
Kenny, who understood the pain that Stan was dealing with, as his family was just as, if not more, religious, just nodded. “I promise.”
An overwhelming sense of gratitude came over Stan. He wrapped his arms around Kenny, pulling him in. “Thanks, Ken.”
He swore he heard an ‘anytime’ from the other boy, but right now, his mind started to wonder again. Instead of the blond in his arms, Stan’s mind replaced hun with a lanky boy with red hair and a strong nose to match his personality. One who seemed to fit just right into his hold. Even though Stan didn’t know what love could be considering his example is Randy, he knew want dedication was from his mother. As her to being Catholic, perhaps Stan could more than entertain the idea of being dedicated to one person. To Kyle. Perhaps he did feel something more for Kyle. Perhaps he could act on it. Just…perhaps.