Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

the morning started with a loud bang -pretty typical for stan’s household, so he didn’t quite wake- followed by shouts.

loud shouts.

stan grunted loudly, giving up on his happy dream with kyle (which was kind of given nowadays) and turning on his back, staring up at the ceiling. the ceiling- while a boring gray with cracks and chips plastered about -was sprinkled with a decent coating of rainbow plastic stars, chosen by stan at an early age, stuck on with blue tape. while the job was half-baked and lazy with child-work, they glowed wondrously and presented young stan with starstruck visions.

stan sighed. he wondered when he should take the shitty plastic things down. they’ve been up for, what, 6 years? he was 16 now. but, something, some one -his small self (he blew off the thought immediately, what the fuck! he wasn’t “small”.)- was telling him not to. frowning more, he thought about himself. just an autistic 16-year old in-love with his best friend (what, no!!)

he lets out another huff at his scrambled (and highly delusional) thoughts, settling with flipping out of bed and reaching sleepily over to his nightstand, trying to grab his bottle of ritalin, almost knocking over his glass of water in the process. he hisses out of his teeth in a mental curse, popping open the lid and tossing two pills in his open mouth, swallowing it down with the old water.

“ick.” stan spits, gagging at the taste of the oldened water. he reaches for another bottle - almost impossible to read with his bleary, sleep-crusted eyes - but he’s positive that it’s his autism meds. he tosses some out, counting two again and dry-swallowing them. he finally grabs his black noise-canceling headphones, pulling them on and flopping on the bed dramatically.

he closes his eyes, drowning out the loud banging and screaming of his feverish parents, focusing on his breathing. focusing on his thoughts. focusing on… his autism. that’s what set young stan apart from the rest. he faintly remembers the sobbing, the pain, the meds, the overwhelming dull hits of a public spaces’ loudness.

jesus, like he could put it into words, no fucking way. he couldn’t even start to place it on the chart. where he was ‘at’, he had no clue.

stan's mind starts to drift off to kyle. warm, loving, pretty kyle. how he smiled, how he hugged him, his curly ginger-red hair, how good he smelt, how he looked shirtless, with his chest and gorgeous scrawny figure, his pants, boxers…

uh…

“SHIT. SHIT!! ” stan yelped, practically flying out of his bed. the sheets wrapped tight around his body until he was trapped, looking like a shaky, blushing mess tied in his sheets awkwardly. he shifts them off as best as he can, stumbling out of his room in only pajama pants to the bathroom.

he stares in the mirror quickly -not even noticing his bleached, dark-rooted mullet with thick tangles around his skull- taking a piss and racing back to his room in an obvious hurry.

he sprints past his older sister, shelly, holding a coffee cup in hand. his rushed movements pull a small spill of the cup, shelly’s sleeve promptly wiping it off the rim of the mug.

“watch it, nerd.” she spits with distaste, stan not even computing a thing she said, focusing on the task at hand.

how could he be so stupid?! (ignoring what happened with his thoughts on kyle, of course.) kyle invited him to the bowling alley today.

the damn bowling alley of all things. sure, it was mesmerizing with it’s fun, vintage machines and neon party lights, but it was loud and smelt of old cheese. at least it was kyle who invited him. he couldn’t miss it.

setting his headphones down, he rushed to his closet, settling on an old chuck norris t-shirt (a gift from kyle on his 14th birthday), a brown flannel, and baggy jeans. with a quick ruffle of his hair, he grabs his eyeliner, lining his eyes expertly with a tongue sticking out in concentration.

finally, stan is ready. he runs out the door of his room, forgetting his noise-canceling headphones in the process.

uh oh.

Chapter Text

stan sprinted down the block, glancing only slightly at the fresh autumn leaves that turned only a few days ago. personally, stan was a summer kind of dude, preferring the warm sunny weather and a small absence of snow in his usual cold colorado hometown. the sidewalk was withered and cracked with age, yet stan knew what steps to take to avoid the large roots in between the concrete that could be easily stumbled over. 

while the chilly, fall air whipped past his ears uncomfortably, he didn’t try to slow down. he passed the school bus stop, and smiled slightly to himself, remembering the time when he was young. so many days, months, years standing in the same order with kyle, cartman, and kenny. while kenny got a new partner (finally, that whore was a mess to deal with) and kyle found a new batch of friends, the main four never separated, always finding the time to hang out, catch up, and play games on cartman’s scratched N64 console. stan was happy with that. he didn’t think he could handle leaving all his friends, for so many years. it hurt to think that one day he has to separate with them.

after some heavy running (which was pretty rough, given that stan was wearing old chunky boots) and continuing past the elementary school, he finally arrives at the bowling alley’s doors, panting and coughing for air, soft white puffs blowing out of his open mouth.

he spends a while catching his breath, now on time due to the sprints of his worried self. as he leans against the scratchy brick of the building, he thinks back to kyle. what was he thinking? kyle’s JUST a friend. nothing else. he huffs, cursing at himself for being such a pervert.

“just get a goddamn girlfriend again.” he mutters to himself, in a hateful tone. wendy was his first love, broken up with a long time ago due to the relationship just fading away. of course, he wasn’t expecting to hang on to her forever, but maybe it was time to call her again? he’s seen her at school before, she's pretty and single and willing. just maybe…

but what about kyle?

huh? why did he think that? kyle is just kyle right? a friend that he sometimes has dreams about (dreams he doesn’t want to specify at all, it would make him puke with embarrassment) and thinks about daily, and maybe masterb-

HE DIDN’T SAY THAT. QUIET.

ok, maybe his ‘friendship’ with kyle wasn’t normal. but that’s not his concern right now. it was time to have a normal, happy time with him. let's do this.

stan takes a deep breath, calming his bouncing nerves and excitement, walking into the building.

immediately, he gets slammed in the face with the stench of crappy pizza and the blinding neon lights, squinting and letting out a hiss in frustration. loud music, screaming of children, and bowling pins being hit clog his eardrums, overwhelming him immediately, but he takes another deep breath and tries his best to tune it out, which isn’t the easiest without his headphones…

SHIT. his headphones! he forgot them-

“stan, over here.” a familiar soft and slightly feminine voice floats by his ears, and stan’s nose fills with kyle’s cologne. thin, long arms wrap around stans thicker build, pulling him into a massive bear hug, kyle’s hug surprisingly strong for such a tall, scrawny male.

stan’s heart flutters for just a second, and before he has the time to register what his happening with him, kyle pulls back with a warm smile, unusual due to his normal cold nature.

stan studies his friend carefully, kyle’s pretty ginger locks curled and wrapped all around his head, framing his thick black glasses (which he had to get in 5th grade, due to his genetic ‘shitty’ eyesight, but stan thinks they’re adorable). kyle was wearing a soft green sweater, obviously one of his favorites due to how worn it looked, and a pair of tight jeans (unlucky for stan, kyle has a signature ass, noticed by bebe in 3rd grade, and stan had a hard time not staring at it, making him feel severely perverted). 

kyle immediately notices stans spacey staring, and glances at him with slight confusion. “you ok dude? you seem out of it.”

stan snaps out of his admiring, his face redding only slightly, not enough for kyle to notice. “yeah, yeah,” his voice scratches in his throat, stan clearing it and continuing, “it’s just a little overwhelming here, yknow?”

kyle’s face melts into a comforting look -sending stans heart skipping- and his voice dissolves into a more soothing tone. “you wanna leave?”

“no, dude,” -stan looks slightly frantic- “it’s really ok. let’s go set up a lane and get some food.”

kyle studies stan’s face for just a second longer, before shrugging, starting to walk to an open lane with a relaxed expression across his face. he starts to run over the space-themed carpet onto the linoleum flooring, slipping his shoes off and starting to pick out bowling shoes, stan following slowly behind.

hopefully this goes well.

Chapter Text

stan reluctantly walks over to kyle, the ginger already has his bowling shoes on, squatting down to grab a bowling ball that matches his hand size. almost on instinct, stan turns his head away from kyle, not trusting himself enough to not stare at his friend pervertedly. 

what the fuck was he doing? this was his best friend hanging out with him at a bowling alley, not some stripper at a club. stan mentally curses himself another time.

the bleach-blonde reaches down to start and tug his boots off, focusing on trying to tug off the frustrating thing, starting to become increasingly impatient and annoyed. stan watches kyle in the corner of his vision, seeing the redhead finally picking a bowling ball, turning back and noticing stan struggling to take off his boots. kyle immediately places the ball back on the rack, ducking down and reaching over to help him tug it off.

stan gives up once kyle’s hands are tugging off the boot for him, letting out a sigh.

“thanks.” he says in an annoyed tone.

“no problem, dude.” the ginger chirps back, giving stan another kind smile, making the boy’s face redden slightly. it didn’t help that kyle’s hair was brushing against his leg. goddamn, would the torture ever stop? stan didn’t know where all of these disgusting thoughts were coming from.

“jesus, this thing is on tight. did you superglue this to your sock or some shit?” kyle chuckles, and stan finally cracks a small grin. 

you know what, fuck it.

“oh shut up, dork. it’s just a tighter style of boot.” stan replies smugly, finally ripping the boot off by himself. he smirks.

“weak ass.”

“woah, watch it,” kyle chuckles, giving stan a challenging look, not backing down. “i don’t think it was the smartest idea to wear combat boots to a bowling alley. this isn’t hot topic.”

the blonde scoffs. “at least it’s stylish. you look like your grandma dressed you up for church.”

the redhead just responds with sticking out his tongue childishly, which ends the small quarrel as kyle sits up, moving to the game machine. he clicks quickly through the menu, selecting a 60 minute game with two people, naming himself “high elf” and stan “emo kid”. 

“look, stan, it’s perfect for you.”

stan, with his bowling shoes finally tied on, notices the screen with a frown.

“asshole.” the blonde retorts, standing up and giving the redhead’s shoulder a playful shove, earning a giggle from the latter.

kyle then steps up, grabbing a bowling ball and whisking it quickly down the lane, the pins splattering across the floor with a loud bang, 2 pins left standing. the ginger gives stan a cheeky smile, rolling again and getting a spare.

stan, with a newfound determination, picks up his purple bowling ball and chucks it down the lane as perfect as he can, immediately hitting a strike. the blonde whoops loudly, giving kyle a smirk and offering him the next turn.

~~

20 minutes seem to go by quickly, stan 20 points ahead of kyle, when the first nuisance pops up, usually blocked by his noise canceling headphones. a group of 10 young kids, only monitored by a single depleted mother, rams their way through the halls, picking the spot right next to the two boys.

stan finches and covers his ears slightly, catching the attention of the ginger, who places a gentle hand on stans shoulder. he glances right at the blonde, stan turning his gaze away, presumably because he was overwhelmed. 

“i’m fine.” the younger mutters, and kyle takes the cue, leaving stan alone and continuing with the game, turning his attention back to his play. 

another 20 minutes pass, the two boys now on their second game of bowling. Stan starts to become more quiet, getting overwhelmed and stressed by the kids on their left, and how he didn’t have much food to eat, his stomach hurting. 

~~

“what would you want to order?” the ginger chirps at stan, sitting down at the small table next to their game, wiping his brow with his green sleeve. 

stan sighs under his breath, already worrying that the food won’t be good enough for him and that he’ll puke again, and stan definitely didn’t want kyle to see his eating problem. 

“uh, just a… pepperoni pizza. with coke.” the blonde says gradually, glancing over at kyle slightly to see his reaction. the redhead seems satisfied, and suggests quickly that he’ll have the same. 

when the food finally serves, the two take a break from their game, sitting down at the small table. stan picks at his pizza, before taking a bite, gagging slightly.

the pizza was cold and fake tasting, with chewy pepperoni and thin, doughy crust, if you could even call it that. It was uncooked and overall disgusting. the younger quickly excuses himself, sprinting to the mens bathroom and vomiting it out, coughing loudly.

he then heads back, waving off kyles concern with a fake smile, saying he was fine and just "not hungry".

~~

stan seriously hated himself for just not explaining, he was that hungry, and now it loud, and he was starving, and it wasn’t even fun anymore, and hes so stressed, the room was now spinning, it just hurt, can everyone just stop, stop stop stop stop STOP STOP-

a scream of joy (and as stan took it, bloody murder) from a young child slams into stan’s eardrums, causing the blonde to scream as well. as if in slow motion, he covers his ears, his face shifting into a wild panic as memories of his mom crouching in fear as his dad looms above flash violently across his mind.

stan could only think of one main thing in his brain as chaos and panic spread around his mind, enveloping him in a state of sheer dread:

GET OUT. NOW.

Chapter Text

kyle immediately turned around when he heard the scream of his best friend, staring at him with complete concern. stan, covering his ears and hunching down slightly, screams again and sprints out of the bowling alley, leaving kyle alone and people staring at the two boys.

“stan? stan! what the hell?!” kyle yells after the blonde male, confused as ever but more concerned over his friend's safety. the ginger sprints out the doors to the building, finding stan hyperventilating and rocking himself on the cold ground.

“dude, are you ok? what the hell is going on?” kyle demands, just earning more sobs and coughs from the blonde. stan’s face is covered with wet tears, red from hyperventilating, his eyes glazed over. kyle guessed that he might not be fully there. he kneels down, trying to shake stan out of it, stan just letting out more sobs and not communicating like a toddler.

“stanley, listen to me. you need to stop this.” the ginger tries talking firmly, but it seems like nothing's working. the blonde just hiccups more and more, starting to spasm with sobs, shaking quite a bit from the cold.

kyle finally snaps, wrapping his arms around the bigger boy -and despite his thin structure compared to the weightier blonde- manages to squeeze him to his chest hard. he tightens his grip harder and harder around stan, fighting the writhing boy. the ginger sits down, pulling stan into his lap and wrapping his legs around stan, completely holding him down.

kyle nuzzles into stan’s fluffy hair, marveling at how soft it was. he didn’t expect the younger’s greasy looking hair to be that fluffy, but feeling it in his face manages to slow down the heartbeat of the ginger.

~~

stan’s little brain could only compute a few things at a time. first it was pain. overwhelming, pure pain . he could only sit there and cry. cry, cry, cry. he wanted to say what was happening. he wanted to explain what was happening with his body (even though he wasn’t quite sure of it, it felt better to deny). he wanted to hide away from kyle. 

but as soon as he felt the tighter and tighter grip of the ginger on the cold ground, he melted in the latter’s arms. cooing quietly, his exhausted and numb brain could only figure out that it was kyle, and what he felt was love . 

pure love.

 his breathing slowed, mind slowed, body slowed, and the only thing stan could do left was to look up at the redhead with the softest eyes he could muster.

~~

kyle’s heart softened even more, almost breaking at the sight of stan. his eyeliner smeared and running, stan’s eyes were a wet, puffy mess, still looking innocent and child-like despite how old he really was. the ginger didn’t even know what to do. he just stared back at stan for what seemed like eternity, before the younger’s eyes slowly closed and soft snores pulled from his chest. part of kyle wanted to kiss the poor boy (kiss? was that the right word?), another part wanted to hold and comfort stan more, but another part was telling him that this wasn’t right. he shook off the feeling, deciding to pick up the sleeping male -who was also soaking from the slightly melted snow on the ground- in his arms, carrying stan back to his place.

kyle knew this wasn’t the right time to geek-out and stare at his best friends’ beauty (why would he do that anyways, ew) as the almost-winter weather was brutal on the little’s shaking body. light was fading fast out of the bruised sky, causing stan to turn in the gingers’ arms and snuggle closer to the latter, clutching his chest unintentionally. 

“ow! dude, that hurts!” kyle couldn’t help but snap at the younger boy, sliding stan’s hand off of his chest and holding him a bit closer so he doesn’t hurt the older one again. the blonde doesn’t respond much, just shivering aggressively, kyle’s face softening at stan’s vulnerable form. he shakes off the frustration, picking up the pace. kyle was even surprised with himself, sprinting with the bigger male in his arms, he never considered himself athletic or strong.

~~

stan was obviously getting worse. he shakes harder and harder in the ginger’s arms, groaning and crying, feeling overwhelmed, cold, and feverish. it wasn’t helping that his brain was running 10x as slow due to the chill and his little mindset. all he could do was focus on the older’s breaths, kyle’s cologne overwhelming his sense of smell due to his face being practically buried in the ginger’s chest. 

“kyle?” the blonde eventually croaked, turning his vision to kyle’s face. the ginger snaps his attention down, his grim face softening once noticing stan was comfortable enough to talk. he gently reaches down, pulling a bit of hair out of the blue, wet eyes of the latter.

“yuh?” kyle murmurs quietly, “are you ok? are you… you?” it sounded incredibly idiotic to kyle once it slipped from his lips, but he wasn’t worried about looking stupid in front of the little.

“no. i w-want my home. my home now.” stan replies bossily, making kyle’s brows furrow. stan wanted to go to his place? but it was a mile away, and the ginger’s house was closer. it was frustrating trying to communicate with stan, but it’s his friend. it’s stan. he’s willing to take care of him if its the last thing he does.

with a small huff, he trudges on, altering his plans and starting to head to stan's residence.

~~

finally, for what seems like a long hour (it was more like 30 minutes, but stan’s big body was taking a toll on the older’s arms) the ginger spots stan's small, dingy house at the end of the block. eager to get home, he sprints faster, causing the blonde to wake up from the feverish nap in kyle’s arms. 

stan immediately starts rocking back and forth in the ginger’s arms - presumably because he was confused at what was happening - and kyle speaks up, shushing the blonde like a small baby.

“stan, it’s ok, im here, we’re almost home…” he soothes, patting stan’s back and slowing down. stan looks up at the older with startled eyes, slowly softening into realization. he then quiets back down.

with kyle’s knee, the door is opened, and the ginger steps inside, exhaling a long sigh of relief that he assumes he’s been holding for a while.

this is going to be a long night.

Chapter Text

the ginger stiffened up, feeling the hot air from the house immediately. so could stan, who shivered aggressively in kyle’s arms. kyle set to work, unzipping stan’s coat and gently coaxing him to stand up.

“c’mon, its ok stan. just stand up, there you go…” kyle felt a little silly talking to his best friend in such a childish way, but its exactly what stan needs. stan wipes his tears with his fists, pouting and shivering in place. the blonde crosses his arms, his voice rough and whiny.

“‘m cold.” stan was much different in this form, kyle thought, he talked more on his feelings and what he needed. it was more helpful, in a small way. kyle thought for a second. what was stan even experiencing? he knew his best friend was autistic, but he never seen stan do this before. what even was this ? how is he going to care-

“kyleee…” stan whined louder this time, crossing his arms tighter across his soaking body. the ginger snapped out of his thoughts, shaking his head.

“ok, ok. i’m sorry, this is just so hard for me, i don’t know what’s going on, jesus…” kyle goes into a small rant, running his hand through his red curls and tugging at them roughly, the other hand pinching the bridge of his nose as his thoughts run wild. he was going to lose it in front of the little, great. the ginger’s knees buckle slightly, and he takes a deep breath to settle down.

opening his eyes, he sees stan just standing there, shivering with a runny nose, looking like a vulnerable mess. head cocked to the side, the blonde just watches the older one, staying quiet. kyle felt even worse for the blonde. it was just like taking care of ike, for christ sake! he could handle this. he was strong. lets go, broflovski.

“let’s get you out of these clothes, you’re a mess.” kyle straightens up, shifting closer to stan and lifting him up into his arms, shifting the little onto his hip. stan grunts with the rough pick-up, but decides to stay quiet as the ginger heads up the stairs, going slow in effort to not drop the bigger boy. 

walking to stan's room, kyle swings open the door with his back and sets the little on the bed. he rushes over to the closet, sliding through the multi-colored shirts that the little owned.

“alright, stan, what shirt and pants would you like? there's a sweater, black t-shirt…” kyle’s voice trails off as he flips though the options, jumping once he hears stan’s voice behind him, closer than expected.

“the terrance and phillip one.” the blonde says quietly, pointing at the very faded blue t-shirt he wanted in the back, kyle just shrugging and pulling it off the hook without a word. the ginger pulls a pair of sweatpants from the closet drawer as well, laying the clothes on the bed.

eagerly, stan starts pulling his shirt off, kyle rushing over with a very embarrassed look on his face. “stan, not here. go change.” stan follows the direction in which the oldest is pointing; the bathroom. 

“ok.” stan simply says, taking the clothes and stomping like a toddler over to the bathroom, shutting the door with a slam.

kyle exhales. yep, just like taking care of ike. sitting on the bed, the ginger pulls out his cracked phone, hastily punching in the words ‘why is my autistic friend acting like a kid?’ into the search bar. scrolling through the results, he finds a small article called ‘age regression - stop the stigma’. age regression? he clicks the article, starting to read through it as he can hear rustling and grunts from behind the door of the bathroom.

‘Age regression: when somebody reverts to a child-like state of mind, often as a coping mechanism for things like PTSD, depression, anxiety, and other mental health issues. Some age regressors like to use child-like objects such as pacifiers and bottles and in some cases adult diapers as well as dressing in “childish” clothing and engaging in activities such as colouring and playing with children’s toys. Basically age regressors are more at-peace and worry-free whilst in "little space" (A term for when one is in said mindset).

Little: a person who regresses

Caregiver: someone who looks after a little while they’re in little space.

Agere/CGLRE: abbreviations for age regression

There are two types of age regression: voluntary and involuntary. Voluntary age regression is where a person chooses to regress to relieve stress, cope with mental health issues or for fun. Involuntary age regression is where someone regresses against their will, typically to deal with high levels of stress or due to past trauma.’

kyle sighs with relief. ok, so stan was ‘involuntary’ age regressing right now, seeming like he can’t snap out of it. so he had to be the ‘caregiver’? this seems odd, but if its what stan is struggling with it, he’ll help out. kyle smiles to himself, pocketting the phone and walking over to knock gently on the door to stan's bathroom.

“stan, hey, are you almost done?” kyle calls out quietly, talking to stan in a more soft way, like he was a small child. the blonde's voice chirps through the wood. “yep! almost done~” he singsongs, opening the door and giving the caretaker a big grin, holding his arms out and giving the ginger jazz hands.

“taa daa…!” the blonde giggles, and kyle smiles widely back. stan was in such a good mood now, he almost sighed again with relief. 

“you look amazing. good job buddy.” the ginger ruffles stan’s hair, earning another giggle from the little.

“come on. i’ll make some grilled cheeses for us, and a big cup of chocolate milk, and we can play together, ok?” kyle leans down (while it wasn’t really needed for their height differences, it made stan smile even more), offering stan his hand. the little happily takes it. “yeah!” he exclaims, before pausing, thinking hard.

“what is it, bud?” kyle says, looking at stan with a confused expression, as the blonde sprints over to a nearby cabinet, pulling the door open with a giggle. he reaches in, grabbing a small blanket and a couple books. handing kyle the books, the blonde wraps himself in the small blanket.

kyle thinks for a moment before crouching slightly, feeling the soft fabric in between his fingers. stan grabs a corner, starting to fiddle with the end, putting it in his mouth.

instead of feeling grossed out, the ginger just laughs, smiling at the blonde. “is that your baby blanket?” he asks, and the little nods, grabbing kyle’s thumb and leading him down the stairs.

kyle, with books in hand, just goes along with it. he didn’t mind anymore.

stan needed him more than anything right now.

Chapter Text

the little seemed to be on a mission as he led the ginger down the stairs quickly, sprinting like a child on christmas over to a small, barely noticeable drawer in the kitchen. stan yanked open the drawer, displaying colorful bottles and pacifiers, chipped slightly with age. kyle approached the blonde a few seconds later, out of breath with the stack of books but smiling just as widely at stan.

“ay, just slow down a little bit, ok?” kyle panted, still smiling widely as he peeked over stan’s shoulder, noticing the contents in the drawer. “are those your supplies, bud?”

“yeah!” stan grinned, wrapping the blanket around his shoulders and starting to dig in the handfuls of pacis and bottles, grabbing a baby blue paci with paw prints and a matching bottle of the same theme. 

while the younger was immersed in the drawer before him, kyle shifted the books given to him on the kitchen table with a sigh, opening the fridge and reaching in for cheese and butter, collecting a loaf of bread as well. setting the supplies on the counter, the ginger begins making food for the blonde one, humming quietly as he toasts the grilled cheese to perfection. 

stan waddles over to the ginger, gently tugging on kyle’s sweater.

“kyyyy…” stan whines, “i’m boreddd.”

the ginger turns to the blonde, eyeing all the items crowded in stan’s hands, thinking for a second.

“how about i put on some cartoons? lego ninjago, maybe?” kyle offers, mentioning an old show the two boys watched when they were kids.

“yay!! please, please, please!!” stan practically bounces on his heels, squealing happily as he races over to the living room, jumping on the plush sofa with a loud thud. kyle follows behind, gently plucking the bottle and paci from the little’s hands, pocketing the bottle for later while placing the paci in stan’s open mouth. 

wrapping his blanket tighter around the younger one, he turns on the cartoon for the little, transfixing stan with all the intense action, giving kyle the chance to sneak back into the kitchen.

after a few more minutes, the grilled cheeses are ready, toasted to perfection and placed on clear, colorful plastic plates. the ginger unscrews the cap to stan’s bottle, pouring chocolate milk to the top, capping the bottle and giving it a quick heat in the microwave. kyle smiles to himself, very proud of the meal he made. holding it in his hands, he raises his voice.

“stannn!” the gingers’ loud but gentle voice rings in stan’s ears. “you wanna eat, bud? i have food for you!” 

a small whine escapes stan’s pacifier, and he reluctantly removes his eyes from the bright show, spitting the plastic nip out. “bring it in here!” the little commands, turning his attention back to the tv.

kyle sighs (quietly, to make sure stan couldn’t hear his slight annoyance) and makes his way to the living room, his feet padding quietly across the plush carpet. stan could be quite bossy in this state, but the ginger weirdly enough didn’t mind.

shifting the plate and bottle to one hand, kyle ruffles stan’s hair, displaying a tired grin to the blonde. “you’re lucky that you’re so nice today. otherwise we wouldn’t be eating on the couch, mister.”

the little’s eyes peel away from the screen, his transfixed expression shifting into a pout. “sorryy…” his voice is guilty, and kyles annoyance immediately dissipates. stan then makes grabby hands towards the food. “for me?”

“yeah, bud, all for you.” kyle speaks softly, shifting stan’s blanket away and tipping the bottle in stan’s awaiting mouth, making sure stan had two strong hands on the cup before letting go. he then places the plastic plate with food on stan’s lap. 

stan eagerly sucks down the warm milk, closing his eyes in enjoyment. he breathes deeply through his nose, finally pulling away to take a big bite out of the grilled cheese. 

while stan is distracted with the meal, kyle sneaks out of the room to grab the books from the kitchen. he then sets them on the side of the couch, watching stan eat and gently rubbing his back as the little chows down. 

you know what, everything was going to be fine. stan was in a good mood, nothing was going wrong. he was doing amazing at this! it was just like taking care of ike. except it was his best friend, and it was just a little weird seeing stan like this.

“hey…buddy?” the ginger says softly, tilting his head to look stan in the eyes. “mm?” the little responds, too hungry to give a good response, melted cheese filling his mouth. 

“you want to read a little bit after this? find a good book and lay down together?” kyle offers, giving stan a small smile. stan’s eyes immediately shine with childlike wonder, nodding rapidly and stuffing more grilled cheese in his mouth, finishing his bottle and sandwich with a swallow.

the ginger reaches to put stan’s pacifier back in his mouth, reaching down to the edge of the couch and picking the first book, goodnight moon.
as kyle starts to read, stan gingerly places his head in the older’s lap, and kyle reaches down to run his hands through the little’s hair, coaxing him to rest. stan slows his sucks on his pacifier, slowly closing his eyes and breathing deeply. 

finally, on the third book harold and the purple crayon, stan starts softly snoring. kyle lowers the book to the pile and lays his head down, turning off the tv and giving stan one last ruffle of his hair before falling asleep with the little, their shared breathing being the only thing making noise in the empty house.

all was well.