Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Kyle Broflovski’s life fucking sucks.

Why? It’s… complicated.

Sixteen years ago, an ordinary couple — well, for South Park, that is — gave birth to a not-so-ordinary boy.

But Sheila and Gerald Broflovski, as oblivious as they are, thought nothing supernatural of their son for far too many years.

Little Kyle Broflovski would know exactly where the car keys were, if Gerald lost them.

He’d babble and laugh in an attempt to cheer his mom up whenever she was stressed with work, even if she hadn’t shown any signs of distress.

Sometimes, when he was up for a doctor’s appointment, Kyle would hide in the closet or under the couch, even though neither his mommy or daddy had told him anything.

One time, a friend of the Broflovskis came over for dinner, and little baby Kyle threw his pap at him. He refused to give the man a hug, and in general did not like him.

A month later, said “friend” stole Sheila’s jewelry and was never to be seen again.

But the Broflovskis didn’t realize anything until the boy started talking coherently.

Which was rather early.

At twelve months, little baby Broflovski could already describe activities, use more complex sentences, and speak pretty fluently for a toddler.

But still, Sheila and Gerald had no idea that their little boy was even more special than they thought. They figured he was just an intelligent child, which, to be fair, would explain some of the supernatural incidents that occurred in the Broflovski household.

No, it wasn’t until their two-year-old son had a vocabulary nearly as broad as that of an average adult, when they finally figured out something was up.

And by then, it didn’t take long to understand what was up.

You see, when you think to yourself, “Oh, maybe it’s time to put little Kyle in preschool” and your son, out of nowhere, says “No! I don’t want to, mommy, I want to stay home and play all day!”, it becomes pretty clear that your son is not at all ordinary.

And so, Sheila and Gerald Broflovski finally figured out that their son was psychic.

Like, for real psychic. This boy had telepathic powers.

And soon, they also figured out his psychic abilities weren’t limited to mind-reading — little baby Broflovski could also do telekinesis.

Yeah, they put the pieces together when Kyle literally threw his toy truck across the living room without moving his little body, all because the truck couldn’t fit his favorite dinosaur plushie.

The Broflovski household was as normal as any other… in South Park.

Actually, no, scratch that. Even for South Park, having a five-year-old that could read minds and bend spoons with his brain is abnormal.

And like any normal family would do upon finding out that their child is superhuman, they told nobody. Obviously the Broflovskis didn’t want to risk their son being taken away to be studied. Or worse.

So, they homeschooled him until he was old enough to control his powers and comprehend why he couldn’t tell anybody about them.

Luckily Kyle Broflovski matured extremely fast, and at the ripe age of seven, he was finally allowed to go to South Park Elementary.

In the second grade, he made friends easily, since he could read their minds and figure out how to impress them.

And impressing kids was especially easy if you secretly used a little telekinesis to lift heavy rocks.

(Of course, any rock is a heavy rock to a second grader.)

As Kyle grew up, so did his friends. Some of them moved, or he and they just grew apart. Some of them stayed. But Kyle’s social circle at one point in his life was never exactly the same as in another point in his life.

Some of Kyle’s friends or classmates ‘stayed’, — meaning they still went to South Park High with Kyle, and sometimes even had classes with him.

But most of them drifted away.

Not that he didn’t like them anymore, they were still associates, just not friends.

Like with Tolkien Black; Kyle and he used to be closer, and now they still chatted occasionally or joked together, but they weren’t really tight.

Or Wendy Testaburger, with whom he’d always been competing over grades. They bickered, but Kyle figured it was in a friendly way.

The only friends that he truly stayed close with, were Stanley Marsh and Kenny McCormick. And Eric Cartman, though Kyle didn’t really count him as a friend.

Which is why Kyle Broflovski, aged sixteen, had now leapt over their cafeteria table at an attempt to strangle Eric Cartman, aged seventeen, with his gross cafeteria cheesestring snacks.

Well, the real reason why was that Cartman had thought, “Fuckin’ faggy ginger jew nerd retard”, after Kyle had shared his grade for their shared Ap Calc test.

But Kyle couldn’t tell his friends that.

However, Kyle Broflovski had other things on his mind at the moment rather than thinking of an excuse to hide his abilities.

Things like PC Principal suddenly standing by their table with his arms crossed and a stern look underneath his sunglasses.

Chapter Text

Kyle stared at the large plant on Mr. Mackey’s desk.

There was a pen laying within his reach, as well. 

In the corner, PC Principal stood silently, arms neatly folded in front of him.

On the chair next to Kyle sat a fat boy, with an ugly face full of pimples and stubble, a face that wasn’t cared for at all. The boy’s eyebrows were furrowed. 

Kyle knew Mr. Mackey’s office all too well — he’d been here plenty of times before, on account of his frequent outbursts of anger.

But Kyle knew it was different this time. Every time he sat in this chair, Mr. Mackey would ask him and whoever else he fought with why they’d been fighting, and who started it, and what did they think would be an appropriate punishment, bla bla bla.

And Mr. Mackey would know something was up if Kyle didn’t give a reason for hitting Cartman in the face and rolling around on the floor, trying to stomp on his balls. 

Kyle picked up the pen and started playing with it, fidgeting, spinning it. 

The handle of the door turned, and then the door opened. Mr. Mackey quietly walked over to his desk, and sat down behind it.

The room was dead silent.

Kyle could hear the electricity buzzing through the cheap TL-lights.

Actually, to Kyle, it wasn’t quiet at all, it never was.

“I wonder what I’m gonna have for dinner tonight… I hope it’s KFC..”

“Kyle and Cartman again? Not surprising.”

“Is silence a micro-aggression? Are those boys trying to assert their white privilege?”

“Well, what do you boys have to say for yourselves?” Mr. Mackey spoke out loud suddenly, breaking the semi-quiet.

Kyle glanced up at Mackey’s abnormally large head.

Next to him, Cartman slightly shifted his heavy, heavy weight.

“I started it, Mr. Mackey. I’m sorry.” Kyle was hoping that good manners would help him avoid any questions.

Unfortunately for him, Cartman just had to open his gross mouth. 

“He hit me for no reason! Just lunged over the table like a nutcase!”

“Eric! That is discriminatory towards people with mental health issues! Watch your words!” PC Principal commented. He’d become much less aggressive over the years, but he was still quite the activist.

“Mmkay, is that true, Kyle?” Mr. Mackey droned, tone flat.

“Well — yeah. I really am sorry, I shouldn’t have done that. I didn’t think it through.”

Oh please, please let me off the hook…

“Mmkay, I see. And you, Eric, do you have anything to say, mmmkay?”

Cartman squinted his eyes.

“Fucking jew. I’ll make him pay. He should respect my authoritah and go back to scraping coins out of fountains.”

Kyle tried his absolute hardest to not punch Cartman again. Little bitch. 

Eric finally opened his mouth. “We’re sorry for fighting, Mr. Mackey, mmmkay?” He said in a mocking tone, but Mackey didn’t notice.

Mr. Mackey looked them both in the eye.

Pleaseeee don’t ask why I punched him…

“Mmmmkay”, Mr. Mackey finally said, “You  will both get a week’s worth of detention and I’m calling your parents to pick you up.”

~

“Kyle! What were you thinking?!” His abilities picked up a familiar voice.

Kyle’s mother, Sheila, had rushed to South Park High after she’d gotten the call. The car window was rolled down, and Kyle’s mom was giving him a questioning and angry look.

He opened the car door and sat down in the passenger seat. “I wasn’t.”

His mother sighed. “What happened this time, bubby?” She asked out loud, as to not raise suspicion.

“Cartman was thinking all these slurs and curse words about me just because I got a good grade for Ap Calc! It just made me so angry and before I knew it, his face was on my fist.” Kyle aggressively gestured while he explained, and a few of his bright red curls sprung loose from his hat because of how worked up he was.

“You did something based on someone’s thoughts? Bubby, you know nothing good can come from that! Did anyone ask why you punched him?”

Kyle sighed and looked down at his lap.

“No.” He glanced over to his mom. “And you don’t have to think everything, you can speak normally.”

“I just don’t want to take any risks. Anyway, you were lucky”, his mom started the car, “if anyone did ask, I don’t think there’s a believable excuse for punching someone without a reason.”

Kyle snickered. “Well, it’s Cartman, so I’m sure people would’ve believed me.”

His mother gave him a stern look.

“Still, Kyle. You really need to be more careful. What you can do, it scares people. They will do horrible things to you if they find out. And you’ll lose your friends.”

The car drove away from the parking lot, wheels crunching in the gravel.

Kyle stared out the window, pushing away the thoughts of losing his friends if they ever found out about him.

Would it scare them off?

Chapter Text

“Yo, Broflovski!”

The hallways were deafening to Kyle, like always. Horny teenagers, teachers stressed about their marriages, substitutes practically getting jumped, lunch ladies with apathy… He felt like his ears were gonna bleed. And hearing everyone’s thoughts did not help.

“Hey, Kenny.” Kyle slammed his locker door shut and turned over to the blonde.

“What did you get sent to Mackey’s for?” Kenny spoke unintelligibly, but Kyle was one of the few people who could understand him. It was really just because he could read Kenny’s thoughts, but Kyle told people he simply had a knack for it.

“Just, punching fatass.” Kyle started walking, and Kenny tagged along beside him.

“What for?” Kenny asked. And in his mind, he added, “What not for is the real question.”

Pfsh. You’re actually right, Ken. Thanks for the excuse.

“For being Cartman.”

The boys erupted in laughter, eliciting a few weird looks from the people around them.

“Anyway, where you going? What class?”

As he mumbled, Kenny zipped his parka up a little higher.

“I’m-“

“Fuck that bitch…”

Kyle began speaking, but suddenly got interrupted by a particularly loud thought.

“…Think she can turn me down? Let’s see if she’ll still be laughing when I fucking jump her dyke ass. Where’s my phone? Gotta text the group chat…”

Kyle frowned, looking around to see who that came from.

“Dude, Kyle?” Kenny looked concerned.

Ignoring his friend, Kyle spotted a boy broadcasting violent thoughts. His mind worked at a rapid pace. Got it.

Not even a second later, the guy tripped over his own suddenly-tied-together-shoelaces and fell on the floor, hard. The hall got quiet for a second as everyone stopped dead in their tracks to see what just made that thump. Kyle used the opportunity to observe the boy’s face and remember him. For later.

Wait. That guy’s in my chemistry class…

“What the hell?” the boy quickly scrambled to his feet, keeping his head down. “Oh god, please make everyone forget that… Oh, I am so gonna kill someone!”

Oops. That wasn’t my intention.

“Kyle!” Kenny’s frustrated cry snapped Kyle’s attention back.

“What? Oh, sorry, I uhm.. I thought… thought I smelled, err, something, I dunno.” The redhead shook his head at an attempt to clear his mind, curls bouncing and slapping him in the face by accident.

“O-kayyy…” Kenny frowned, “So where’s your next class?”

“Right, um, I have biology in room 034. With a-Stanley Marshall.” He said Stan’s name with a fake posh accent.

Kenny gave him a look.

“Oh, what? You.. you nag!” Kyle rolled his eyes.

“Pfah!” Kenny snorted, “Great comeback, man!”

“Hm. Well, anyway, Ken, I really gotta go — the second bell is gonna ring in, like, less than a minute. I’ll catch you later, okay?”

Kyle hardly waited for Kenny to actually react to that out loud and rushed off.

“Yeah, I’ll see you then-“ was the last he picked up.

~

As he walked into the classroom, Kyle’s eyes spotted a guy with dark hair and faded blonde dye on the tips sitting in their usual spot.

Stan!

Kyle plopped his backpack down on the table.

“Ugh, these things are way too heavy!” He let out a groan and rolled his shoulders back to fix his posture.

“Mmhmm…” Stan’s thoughts hummed in response.

Weird, Stan’s bag is light today, he’s got like three classes. Why’s he agreeing? Whatever.

“Did you do the homework?” Kyle asked as he pulled his out.

“We had homework?” Stan’s big eyes got even larger. “No… I didn’t… Can I copy yours?”

Kyle sighed softly. “Fine. But do your work! It helps you understand the material, which means you have to study less.”

“Nerd.” Stan remarked. “That’s kinda smart.”

Kyle smacked him with his workbook. “Do you want to copy or not?”

“Please.” Stan accepted his offer and began copying the work.

“Alright, welcome, everyone! In today’s class we’ll be going over food chains once more — I’m assuming you all have your notes from the previous class?”

“Shit.”

Kyle could feel Stan puppy-eyeing him.

“Ky!” The boy whispered.

Kyle dramatically rolled his eyes and shoved his notebook on Stan’s table.

“Here”, he pointed at some highlighted text, “you remember this, right?”

Kyle knew Stan didn’t remember, but… This is fun.

“Uhm.” Stan scratched the back of his head. “No…”

Kyle gave him a fake stern look. “Why not? You were there. I sat next to you.”

“Yeah, uhm…” Kyle could hear Stan’s thoughts panicking.

He knew exactly what Stan had been thinking about instead of paying attention.

“Fuck, uh, c’mon Stan, think of something…”

Kyle had to look away to keep himself from laughing.

All the while, they were missing half of the theory revision.

“I was distracted, because I was thinking about a math problem I have to solve before tomorrow.” Stan looked very proud of his own excuse.

Kyle nodded slightly, and squinted. “Okay.” He turned his head to their teacher. “Pay attention this time.”

“Yes, sir!” Stan clicked his pen and started writing.

Kyle secretly smiled to himself.

And for the record, Stan, if I were an animal, I’d obviously be a fox, not a squirrel.

Chapter Text

“Bubbala, mommy’s late for work! Can you empty out the dishwasher with your telekinesis, please?” Sheila was rummaging through the pile of papers on the coffee table. “Where is my file for the ‘Think of The Children’ campaign…”

“Here.” Kyle was finishing off an apple in the next room as he lifted the file off of the table and waved it in front of his mom’s face. “I’ll empty it for five bucks.”

“Oh, come on, Kyle! I’m already late, and it takes you two seconds! You don’t even have to lift a finger!”

“Yeah, but you should never rely on psychic abilities.” Kyle retorted while tying his snow boots without using his hands.

“Alright, I’ll give you the five bucks, but I really have to leave now!” His mom was almost out the door.

“Deal. Now go!” He walked into the kitchen and complied, quickly putting all the clean kitchenware back into their assigned cabinets with his mind.

Okay, did that… Whoops, it’s 8 already, I should be heading out too.

“Bye dad, bye Ike!” The kindergarten was closed for the day due to a lice outbreak, and Kyle’s father Gerald had used one of his sick days to stay home from work and watch his little brother.

“Bye Kyle!” his dad was usually too lazy to respond out loud.

“Bye-bye!” Ike wasn’t.

~

The town was slowly waking from its slumber. For now, the only sound was the crunching and thumping of Kyle’s green boots in the snow. It was winter, and freezing cold. He pulled his ushanka a little lower over his red ears.

Soon it’d be loud again.

Kyle arrived at the bus stop early. Nobody else was here yet. They’d built a little bench here when he went to eighth grade, and it couldn’t hold Cartman, but for Kyle it held up.

He’d been kicking some snow around with his feet and listening to the morning birds for a few minutes, when he heard the crunch-thump of another pair of snow boots getting closer. He recognized the voice of those approaching thoughts.

“Hey, dude.” He smiled. “Good morning.”

Stan sat down next to him. “Morning. You sleep well?”

“Yeah, you?”

“Uh-huh.”

It went quiet again. The boys stared at the snow by their feet, awkwardly smiling at each other every now and then.

Kyle listened to the song stuck in Stan’s head.

“Tear it down, break the barricades… I wanna see what sound it makes…”

“I’m cold.” Stan said, suddenly.

“I mean, so am I, but what are ya gonna do?”

Stan breathed out through his nose and looked at Kyle.

“Warm up.” He said as he scooted closer.

Kyle peered back at him through his orange eyelashes.

“How are his lashes so long and curly? What the fuck?”

They sat in silence again.

“I hate this flavor with a passion… and I fucking hate the aftertaste…”

Stan’s music taste is so emo.

Kyle suddenly sat up a little straighter. Did he just lay his arm on the backrest behind me?

“How does it feel, how does it feel? How does it feel? Well, it feels like I’m on fire… Wake up, I know you can heaaarr meeee…”

Loud thumping in the snow behind them shook them out of their sleepy trances.

Stan jumped up. “Ah, hey guys!”

Kyle could hear his thoughts panicking a little. What for? Why are his thoughts always panicky?

“Hey Ken.” The redhead waved at his friend. “Cartman, you sound like a fucking elephant. We could hear you from miles away.”

“Ey! That’s just because muscles are heavy!”

“Morning.” Kenny muffled. “What time does the bus get here?”

Stan nudged Kyle. “What’d he say?” Stan was the only one in their friend group that still had trouble understanding Kenny at times.

“He asked what time the bus gets here. And it gets here at 08:30, so in a few minutes.”

“Thanks.” Kenny shoved his gloved hands in his pockets.

“It’s fucking freezing!” Cartman grunted.

“You should freeze some of that fat off, tubby!” Kyle and Cartman fell into their usual banter.

~

A few minutes later, the sound of wheels crunching in the salt on the roads caught their attention. Kyle sniffed up the familiar smell of gasoline. In the short amount of time they’d all been waiting together, South Park had woken up. Cars had passed by a few times, and the streets were slowly filling with people. Well, South Park always had been pretty empty, if there wasn’t some kind of rally or mass emigration. When the streets were ‘filled with people’ here, it meant there were five people in sight.

The boys got on the crowded bus. Their stop was one of the last, and they had to sit all the way in the back if they wanted some spots together.

“The bus is fucking late, yellow-toothed bitch.” Cartman said to miss Crabtree as they got in the school bus.

“What did you say?!?” Miss Crabtree screeched.

“I said the bus just up and braked, fellow goofy kids!”

“Oh. Well yes, it did brake…”

The four boys sat down all the way in the back.

Kyle stared out the window as the bus started driving them. In fifteen minutes, they’d be rushing to their classes.

He chose one thought to focus on and listen to for the ride.

“Dreamless in early graves… I never want it to be this way… The chemicals will bring you home again…”

Chapter Text

Kyle plopped his tray down on the cafetaria table and awkwardly bended his long, lanky legs in a wonky but successful attempt to sit down.

“Hey guys.”

“Hey.” Kenny was the only one to respond. Stan’s mouth was full and Cartman just didn’t care.

“So what’s up? Anything new?” Kyle unwrapped his burrito and took the first bite. His mom had started a movement for healthier and better food in South Park High’s cafeteria back in their freshman year — and surprisingly succeeded.

Stan swallowed. “I probably flunked my science quiz.”

Kyle scoffed. “Why do you and Kenny take science, anyway? I’m glad I dropped it.”

“Dude, you literally take biology and chemistry. And history! How is science any different?”

“Because science is boring.”

“It’s nearly the same!” Kenny chimed in.

“I hate home economy. That’s for chicks.”

“Shut the fuck up, Cartman, your mom still makes all your food for you and cuts it up into little bits so you don’t choke on it when trying to gobble it all down like a pig.”

“Ey! Don’t you lecture me on food, diabetic jew!”

“Like you’re not going to get diabetes if you keep up that lifestyle!”

“Guys, shut up and eat your food!” Kenny muffled.

Stan looked confused. “What’d he say?”

The four silently munched on their food.

“What classes do you guys have after this?” Stan broke the quiet.

“Home economics.” Kenny mumbled.

“What? He said home ec, right?”

Kyle nodded in response. 

“Gay.” Cartman commented. “I have maths A.” He made a face. “Bitch fucking class!”

“Chemistry.” Kyle said. Hope he’ll be there. 

“Oh. I have maths A with Cartman.” Stan sulked. “Ugh.”

“Well, I’ll see you guys later then, right?” Kyle asked.

“Yeah, we all have English sixth period.” Kenny replied. 

The four boys continued eating their lunch and chatting.

~

Kyle was on edge when he walked into his chemistry class. His eyes (and mind) scanned the room in search of the possible threat boy.

Fortunately, the guy was present. He located him via telepathy — the boy had very … present thoughts.

Easily recognizable. Sweet!

Kyle picked the spot right behind him, and unpacked his bag while he waited for the teacher to start reading the absence list.

“…Bebe Stevens?”

“Present.”

“Butters Stotch?”

“Wuh- present!”

“Clyde Donovan?”

“Present.”

The list went on and on, until…

“Ivan Hughes?”

“Present.”

Gotcha. Wait, shit, that was corny. Thank god telepathy is my thing.  

Now that Kyle knew the boy’s name — Ivan Hughes — he could ask around about him.

Or, well, ‘Ivan’ was not thinking about chemistry. Maybe he wouldn’t even have to ask around.

“Just you wait until tonight, bitch… I’m going to break your fucking nose, my boys are gonna break your fucking mouth… I know where to find you…”

Yeah, that’s nice, dude, but can you think about when you’re gonna do all that? And where?

Kyle had gotten the habit of responding to people’s thoughts in his mind. And yes, it was a little weird, but the boy had known nothing but telepathy all his life. To him, it felt almost like a regular conversation, although one-sided.

“I know where you live, fucking whore. Just you wait until you go on your little nightly walk. You think you’re soooo deep and complicated just because you read in public? Well, I’m gonna fucking blind you and you can never read your precious books again. Dumb authors with their dumb weird names…”

You aren’t very bright, are you?

“Wait until tonight, faggot. I’ll beat…”

Kyle stopped listening to Ivan’s surface thoughts. Obviously, he was never just going to think the girl’s name in this… monologue.

Good lord, he’s horrible! Kyle dug deeper into the boy’s thoughts. A benefit of having telepathy since birth is that you’ve known it forever. Kyle had learned to dig into different levels of thoughts in his sixteen years of forcibly having to listen to them. That, and some other useful skills.

Okay, he’s a disgusting person… Wow, okay, a downright nazi… Hmm… Oh, recent memories!

He wasn’t very good at replaying people’s memories, because he almost never did so. He didn’t want to know what his friends had been thinking of during the previous night whilst jacking off. Or something. So he wasn’t very skilled at it.

But Kyle managed.

Oh, there!

••• ###~~~### •••

“So, you gonna let me hit?” Ivan smirked.

“Uhh…” In front of him was a pretty girl, with shoulder-length, mousey brown hair and big hazel eyes. She was wearing a knit sweater and a long, flowy, green skirt. Kyle noticed chipped but soft pink nail polish, and a lingering smell of lavender.

She doesn’t look very straight, is he blind?

“I don’t know what that means…” The girl chuckled awkwardly.

“You gonna let me fuck you?” Ivan rephrased.

“Oh!” The girl slowly took a step back. “I have a girlfriend… And that isn’t a nice way to ask someone out…”

Ivan’s expression immediately turned to anger. The memory got a sort of red tint, and it was clearly fogged by rage.

“Whatever, dyke! You’re ugly anyway! Just you wait!”

Well, he sure likes those four words a lot.

Ivan stormed away, and Kyle exited the memory.

••• ###~~~### •••

Even though he missed nearly an entire chemistry class, Kyle didn’t care. He’d gotten exactly what he wanted. Tonight, when she’s going for a walk, I’ll have to be there.

Luckily, Kyle remembered her. She had looked familiar right away.

I don’t know her address though… How am I going to get into the teacher’s lounge? His mind had already snapped a plan into place.

But when do I go? If I skip English the sixth, the guys will know, and I don’t usually skip… They’ll definitely ask difficult questions, Cartman especially…

He was going to have to miss seventh period.

Chapter Text

It had been a piece of cake, breaking into the teachers’ lounge. It was usually empty during classes anyway — and Kyle had gotten lucky, the door wasn’t even locked.

All he had to do was obscure the single security camera (which the school had installed after a break-in) by using psychokinesis to snip the wires inside of it, and then he simply had to pick a lock to get into the safe which kept the school’s most important files protected.

Didn’t even have to use telekinesis or anything, easiest lock ever…

Now, Kyle had access to the school’s most confidential information, including the address of the girl from Ivan’s memory.

Dragging his finger over the names, Kyle scanned the “addresses” page for hers.

Tanner… Testaburger… Thelma … Throttle… Thorne… Thompson… Triscotti… Tucker… Oh, there she is!

Kyle typed the address into his phone. He carefully placed the file back in the safe, making sure not to crinkle it.

Then, he quickly snuck out.

~

23:04.

After getting the address, Kyle had gone straight home and spent the rest of his time in his room, waiting for the evening. He figured it was about time for her evening walk, right about now. 

With everyone else in the house already asleep, he did what he had done plenty of times before — stuff pillows under his blankets to make a fake sleeping Kyle, then quickly open the window and climb onto the roof, as quietly as he could manage. He made sure to leave a book on his windowsill, to keep it open for when he came back.

Carefully, Kyle climbed to the edge of the roof and held onto the gutter as he slowly let his body drop.

Fuck, I’m basically doing a pull-up. This better give me some crazy abs.

It was a pull-down, and it required little to no skill. Gravity basically did the work for him.

His feet could feel the drainpipe and he hooked them around it. Then, Kyle slid down the pipe, fast and quiet, like a firefighter.

It’s a shame no one was around to see how cool that was…

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and began walking towards the address, unsure of how to get there.

He was cold, because he didn’t have his snowboots. They made too loud of a sound to wear when sneaking out. Instead, he got the next best thing: fur boots. They looked very cunty, but Kyle didn’t feel that way.

These look silly.

Luckily, he had managed to get his hands on a warm hoodie, and sweatpants with thick fabric (obviously not the cuffed type, he liked them ‘baggy-but-not-too-baggy’).

So at least he wasn’t shivering.

After a while of walking, he arrived at the address. There was a bench nearby, just out of sight, and he waited there for any movement.

Finally, at midnight, the front door opened, and a girl walked out. The girl from the memory. Kyle immediately locked in, forcibly entering her mind and gathering all her thoughts about her nightly walk.

She has no idea what’s about to hit her.

The girl started walking down the street, not having noticed Kyle. He got up and followed behind, but kept enough distance for her to not hear or see him.

As they were walking, he scanned the area for anyone broadcasting suspicious thoughts. There were very little people out late at night, so he could easily focus on others’ minds.

It didn’t take too long before the girl reached a darker street, quiet and empty. Ominous.

“There she is.” Kyle picked up on a few internal voices who were very caught up in the same girl as he was. His eyes spotted them, too.

Four dudes. Not too bad.

The girl turned a corner and was suddenly surrounded by the four guys, who had been waiting for her.

Kyle hesitated to interfere so soon. He waited first, hiding around the corner. He didn’t want to give anything about himself away.

“Uh, excuse me, could I… pass through?”

“No, you can’t.” One of the guys grunted.

Kyle heard another one step forward.

“Tonight, you pay for rejecting me. And for being a dyke.” Ivan’s voice.

Kyle’s jaw clenched, pissed.

“What?” Her voice trembled, and he could hear her trying to stumble away.

“Get her!” Ivan yelled.

But before any of them could even lay a finger on her, they suddenly collapsed.

Four nearby stones, the size of a human head, had flown right into their faces at top speed.

Four consecutive thumps, and it went quiet.

“…What the fuck?” the girl uttered.

“I gotta get out of here, shit, what was that?!”

She turned around instantly and went to run away, but was stopped by Kyle’s face. And body.

She’d basically run into him at full speed, having acted so quickly that he couldn’t fully process her plans before she executed them. He hadn’t had the time to hide, or even move out of the way.

“Ow, shit…” Kyle groaned as he rubbed his forehead.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” Kyle had fallen over, but she was still standing, just a little hazy. “Wait, who are you? What are you doing here?” She was a sharp girl, and instantly flamed him with questions.

Kyle scrambled up from the ground.

“Uhm, just going for a walk?”

She narrowed her eyes, peering at him through her eyelashes.

“No. Nobody’s ever here at this hour, and if you lived here, I would recognize you.”

Kyle didn’t know how to respond. He could tell from her thoughts that she’d figured him out.

“Did you have anything to do with those rocks?”

Kyle sighed. “What rocks?”

“Wait, Kyle? Kyle Broflovski?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh my god, I almost didn’t recognize you in the dark! Do you remember me?”

“I do.” He smiled at her.

“Did you see those rocks fly by?”

“Rocks? …What?” Kyle played dumb.

“It doesn’t really matter, I guess. I haven’t spoken to you in forever, Kyle! How are you?” Her voice was slightly strained. Her thoughts were blank — distant. She appeared to be dissociating.

“I’m good, how are you?” At least her mind had strayed from her suspicions.

“I’m great too! I’m seeing someone.”

“I heard.” He chuckled. “Who is she?”

“How’d you know it’s a she?”

“Uh, Cartman.”

“Oh, yeah.”

“So who is she?”

“What? Oh, it’s Rebecca, you remember her? Well, everyone calls her Red…”

“Oh, Red, really? I’m happy for you guys!”

“Yeah! Hey, so, anyway, do you want to meet up later, so we can catch up and talk and stuff?” She beamed at him.

“Yeah, sure, I’ll give you my number, that’d be fun…” He typed it into her phone.

“Great! Oh, but, I should… I should go. I.. I don’t… Oh my god.”

“What’s wrong?” Kyle frowned.

“I.. I just realized, like, what happened just now. Oh my god, I was almost beaten up! But.. Then… Rocks? Wait, you…”

Shit. Her mind’s circling back.

“Wait, why were you here again?”

This time, there was no use fighting it. She knew. She didn’t know what it was that she knew, but she knew something. Still, Kyle wasn’t gonna give up that easy.

“I was going for a super long walk. Needed to clear my head. I live about twenty minutes walking away from here.”

“Oh.” He could tell she wasn’t fooled. “Well,  I should go home. Probably… stop walking here at night. I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah, I’ll text you.”

“Great, bye then!” She waved and started walking away.

“Bye, Heidi.”

Chapter Text

00:54. Kyle was exhausted.

After having said goodbye to Heidi, he’d gone back home. He’d been walking for fifteen minutes now, and all he could think about was his soft, warm bed.

And the quiet.

Kyle loved the quiet. He rarely got any.

Oh, but he just couldn’t wait to get home and sleep.

When he arrived at his house, he didn’t know what to do at first. Usually he just climbed back up the drainpipe, but he was so tired…

The neighbors are asleep, who cares if I cheat a little? Nobody will see.

And so, Kyle bent the drainpipe into a stairway. It got a little damaged, but he bent it back, so it was fine.

He climbed up the roof and softly walked over to his window. He opened it, when -

“Dude!”

“Stan?” Kyle was taken off guard and fell into his room, landing face first on his carpet.

“Dude, Kyle, what the hell are you doing out at one a.m.?!”

Kyle scrambled up for the second time that evening.

“Stan, what the fuck are you doing here?!” He whisper-yelled, so as to not wake anyone.

“I always sneak in your room, man, you knew that. I was worried and thought I’d come visit you.”

Fuck, why did I leave the window open? Stupid! You could’ve opened it with telekinesis! God!

“And then when I wasn’t home, you just fucking went on a stakeout to wait for me?!”

“Yeah! Where were you?”

Kyle scoffed. “Out.”

“I know that, asshole! I meant, what were you doing out?”

“I went for a walk. I needed to clear my head. Why did you come here, anyway?”

Kyle could smell Stan’s familiar scent.

“Cartman said you weren’t in detention.”

Detention? “Shit.”

“Yeah, he texted me about it a bunch.” Stan pulled out his phone and showed the screen to Kyle.

Fatboy

ur bf wasnt in detention today

where is he

is he wit u

sucking ur dick

stan the man

rizzler

u fag

homos

no but srsly stan tell him i hope mackey gives him 5yrs of detention for ts

“Oh, god.” Kyle frowned.

“Yeah, he’s not a good person.” Stan shoved his phone back in his pocket. “But he paints an intriguing picture…”

Kyle frowned again.

What does that mean?

“Okay, well, I forgot about detention. Honestly.” That isn’t even a lie, fuck, I hope Mackey lets it slip…

“Okay, I trust you. You really were going for an hour long walk?”

“Yeah, I swear — wait, you were here for an hour? What did you do?”

“Sit on your heavenly smelling bed…” Stan shrugged. “I just chilled.”

“Okay. See you tomorrow.”

“What? No way dude, I’m too tired to go home now. My parents don’t mind, they trust your parents.”

“What are you suggesting?”

“Sleepover!” Stan said, beaming.

Kyle rolled his eyes. “I’ll get your pj’s.”

Five minutes later, they’d both brushed their teeth and changed into their pyjama’s. Kyle had washed his face, applied moisturizer, and tied his hair up in a ponytail. He didn’t feel like putting on chapstick or spot treatment. He skipped those too often.

Stan had splashed water on his face and called it a night.

“Ponytail… Looks nice. Really good…”

Kyle appreciated the compliment, although not verbalized.

“Here, I have this self inflating mattress for you. And a pillow, and blankets.” He’d set up a nice little nest for Stan.

“Thanks.” They crawled into bed.

“Night, Stan!” Kyle switched off the lamp by his bed.

“Good night, Ky.”

Chapter Text

Wednesday, 10:55. History class.

Today, Kyle had to do a presentation on a movie he watched about World War 2.

He’d prepped well, and a calm feeling had settled throughout his whole body.

Most people found presenting terrifying, he knew. Stan and Heidi weren’t too fond of it. But Kyle knew nobody really cared. Anytime he presented, most people’s thoughts would simply be something along the lines of “What should I eat when I get home?” “Ugh, I don’t like this drawing of mine.” “Oh, that movie seems cool, I should check it out.” “IS IT SENSIBLE ENOUGH FOR YOU? DOES EVERYBODY UNDERSTAND? ARE YOU ALL STILL…”

Nobody. Really. Cared.

Though, admittedly, most people couldn’t check for themselves if anyone was secretly judging them. Kyle could. And he was grateful.

None of the guys took history, so he spent the classes with Wendy.

Kyle waited for the teacher to finish up shushing the class. His eyes caught Wendy’s, and he gave her a humored look. Her brown eyes blinked, then shot one back. After Kyle’s presentation, their history teacher would be handing back their tests, and with that, their scores. He and Wendy were on edge.

“Bet you I’ve got a higher grade than you!” She thought.

You’re on. Wendy was one of the rare cases he felt he could reciprocate the telepathy.

“Quiet down! Your classmate is waiting to start!”

Kyle finished his presentation and walked back over to his seat next to Wendy as the class applauded. Out of courtesy. Most of them hadn’t been paying any attention.

He shot her a daring look. She raised an eyebrow at him.

The teacher softly slammed down their tests on the desk as they were both tapping their feet in curiosity.

“94. Good job, Broflovski.”

Kyle was already smirking, when…

“Hope he takes it lightly.”

What?

He glanced over at Wendy’s paper and saw. 97! Good lord!

“Not bad, huh?” Wendy gloated, a shit-eating grin painting her face.

He shoved her playfully.

“That’s just because history is your best subject! We’ll see who gets the better mark next time we have a mathematics test, or a French oral!”

“Excuses, excuses.” She tutted.

He was just about to come up with a snarky response, when the bell rang.

“Oh, finally, we get to go home. You and I have Chemistry together tomorrow, right? With Stan, too?” He’d packed his bag and swung it on his shoulder.

“Uh, yeah, the fifth. I’ll see you then!”

“Bye!”

“Bye!” She smiled one last time and went down the stairs, a different direction from Kyle’s route.

He started heading towards his locker when he got stopped by the counselor.

“Mr. Mackey?”

“Mm, Kyle, follow me to my office, mmkay? We need to discuss something.”

“Oh, uh, okay…”

Kyle nervously tagged along, all the way to Mackey’s office. Based on mr. Mackey’s thoughts, this was about his skipping detention earlier.

Mr. Mackey fussed with his keys for a bit, then opened the door with a click. Before he entered the room, Kyle already heard what was up.

“Bubby! This is like, the millionth time you’ve skipped detention!”

Oh, fuck me.

Kyle sighed and sat down on the nearest chair, hands folding neatly in his lap.

“Well,” Mr. Mackey rested his elbows on the table but brought his hands together and interlaced them, as if expectant, “I think you know why we’re here, Kyle.”

Kyle sighed. “I’m sorry. I completely forgot. I swear I didn’t skip on purpose!”

His mother glared daggers at him. “Bubby, you can’t keep doing this!”

“I know, mom!” Kyle felt exasperated. “I promise this is the last time.”

“You’ll get two extra days of detention to make up for it.” Mr. Mackey had decided to let him off easy.

“Thank you, Mr. Mackey.” Kyle articulated. He really meant it.

“Alright, Kyle, come on now. Let’s go home.” Sheila picked up her purse and walked over to the door. Kyle stood up and followed.

“Thank you for tending to my Kyle.” Sheila waved at Mr. Mackey, then led Kyle to the car.

They got in. She let out a sigh as she sat down.

“Bubby.” She paused, looking him in the eyes. “You really do promise this was the last time?”

Kyle nodded. “Promise.”

“Okay. You’re sixteen now, you have to get control of that temper of yours. You remind me of myself, Kyle, I used to have a short fuse as well. But I learned to manage my anger. And I know you can, too, because you’re my strong little man.”

He smiled at her. “I will. I love you, ma.”

Sheila turned her keys, starting the engine. “Love you too, Kyle.”

Chapter Text

Friday, 15:45. Detention.

Ugh. Kyle made a face. With Cartman!

Kyle still had fifteen minutes to go, and he’d brought his homework for maths, so he could get a head start on Wendy.

The room was quiet. Kyle had chosen to sit next to Craig, but unfortunately, Cartman had planted his fat bum on the seat behind them. And he was really fucking annoying, too.

“Psst! Hey! Jew and fag!”

Kyle rolled his eyes.

“What are you guys doing?” Cartman had resorted to poking them with a pencil.

“Hey! Craig!” More nagging. “Ey! Don’t flip me off, you son of a bitch!”

I can’t fucking focus like this…

Ignoring Cartman, Kyle passed Craig a note. “What are you here for?” It read.

Craig looked at it. “Flipping people off.” Kyle heard. Then he saw Craig write exactly those words, and hand him back the paper.

“You?” Craig whispered.

“Beating Cartman’s ass.” Kyle responded proudly.

“Sweet.” Craig said, monotonous.

“Ey!” Finally, Cartman had shut up. Kyle took the opportunity to tend to his homework once more.

~

Drrrrring!

The school bell rang, announcing the end of the day. The only kids who were still in the building were those who took extra after-school classes, those with tutoring, and those with detention.

Kyle rushed out of there, off to a nice little coffee shop in the town.

After a few minutes of crunching through the frost on the sidewalk, he arrived.

The bell rang when Kyle opened the door. Tweek Bros. coffeehouse.

He scanned the place and located her thoughts.

Walking over to the table she’d chosen, the tall teen took off his jacket.

“Hey, Heidi!” He sat down. “What’d you get?”

“A latte macchiato!” She giggled at her own terrible pronunciation.

“Is it good?" Kyle peeked at the steam coming off her cup.

“Actually, yeah. Their coffee has really improved. They even sell non-drugged drinks now!”

Kyle frowned. “And yours is..?”

“Ha ha. Clean, obviously.”

“Hm.” Kyle grinned. “Wait here, I’m gonna order.”

“Oh, you can signal the waiter over though?”

“Yeah, but I wanna catch up with the barista.” Kyle stood up and walked over to the counter. “Hey, Tweek!”

“ACk! Hey man! How are you?” Tweek’s twitching had gotten much better since he stopped taking so much … well, meth, but Kyle supposed some of it was just in his genes, because he was still tweaking out and pulling his hair.

“I’m good, you?”

“Hn, good! What can I get you?”

“Uhm, a regular coffee with milk, please.”

“So a café au lait. Sure, what size?” Tweek’s eye twitched.

“Uhhhh, medium?” Kyle knew that wasn’t right, but he’d forgotten the correct sizing, and he really didn’t feel like digging in Tweek’s thoughts.

“You know it’s called a short, man!” Tweek softly growled. Kyle never got used to that. Hearing a human being growl, involuntarily, naturally. So odd. But Kyle wasn’t judging.

“I did not know that… Oh, and don’t put any drugs in it, please!”

“You got it, man!” Tweek smiled at him and switched on the coffee machine.

Back at their table, Kyle chuckled to himself. “You remember Tweek!”

Heidi giggled. “I do!”

“Heh.”

“So, how have you been? What’s new?”

“Hm? Oh, just… same old, same old.” Kyle chuckled a little. “Nothing ever really changes here. And you?”

She smiled, dimples forming in her cheeks. “I’ve actually gone through a lot of changes. You know, with Red, and my friends — I have great friends — and also myself. I kind of went back to my roots, from way before I met Cartman. And I’m glad I did! That wasn’t really the brightest period of my life.” Her smile was faltering, and her melancholic thoughts were bumming Kyle out. Suddenly, Heidi remembered something.

“Oh, by the way, about the other night..”

Oh, fuck.

“..I’m really sorry for the way I acted. I was very shaken up, and I shouldn’t have been so mean and all over the place. I promise that’s not me!” She laughed, chipper once more. The weird thing was, her intuition still sensed something strange about Kyle, he could tell. But she didn’t seem scared at all, like his mom always said. She wasn’t even planning on investigating her suspicions.

“What are you talking about?” Kyle let out a relieved sigh and smiled back at her. “You have nothing to be sorry for!” Secretly, Kyle liked playing hero, but he’d never admit that.

“Well, I wanted to say it anyways.”

The approaching sound of unruly footsteps and occasional ‘ack’ or ‘nn!’ sounds caught their attention.

“Here you go, man, one short café au lait, de-drugs!” Tweek carefully placed Kyle’s cup down on the table.

“Thanks, dude!” Kyle’s fingertips skimmed the drink, trying to figure out if it was safe to sip from yet.

“Bye, Tweek!” Heidi waved at him, then turned back to Kyle.

“Oh, I just remembered, how did your test for history go? I heard about it from Wendy yesterday.” Heidi took her cup in her hands and sipped.

“Oh, man, she totally beat me!”

“Yeah?”

“No, listen, next time, when we…”

Kyle had nothing to worry about. Heidi wasn’t going to out him at all. No, really, no betrayal, she would never do that.

Plus, Kyle’s social circle was finally expanding. He liked having her around.

Chapter Text

Ever since he was little, only three people had known about Kyle’s powers. His mom, his dad, and his little brother.

Unfortunately, the number of people who had their suspicions had been increasing lately.

There was that one guy who had seen him use psychokinesis on his broken pencil.

There was the barista, who hadn’t even called out his name yet when he picked up his order.

Recently, Heidi had known something was up with him, but the shock of the events that gave her her suspicions in the first place was big enough for her to not have any clue what, exactly, was so special or odd about Kyle. Plus, she’d never out him.

But the only person who had truly come close, was such a pain in his ass. Well, she was super nice, and Kyle liked her a lot. But she was too clever, and it was becoming an issue.

Kyle had heard thousands, nay, millions maybe, of minds in his life.

But none of them compared to that of Wendy Testaburger.

She was genuinely the brightest mind he’d ever come across.

She’d had her suspicions since they were, like, ten. Maybe she’d even known ever since he used telekinesis to lift heavy rocks.

She was becoming a problem. Was she? Kyle couldn’t really tell how bad it’d be for him if she found proof of her suspicions. He didn’t think she would tell anyone, or use it against him, but his mom taught him that you could never be too cautious.

Anyway, said problem was currently sitting at a terrace next to Kyle’s favorite cafe slash bookstore, pretending to think about her homework.

Yeah, pretending. This fucking girl knew so much about his secret, she was aware he could recognize her thoughts, and even that he could listen in.

What she didn’t know was just how deep Kyle could go. He could pick apart layers and layers of someone’s mind. He could figure out things even they didn’t know themselves. He didn’t enjoy it at all, and he avoided it at all costs.

But right now it was useful.

Wendy Testaburger was so smart, that she had multiple layers of thoughts.

First layer, “The quadratic formula is D = b^2 - 4ac, then x = (root of D + b) : 2a, so if I substitute a^2 with t, then I can use…” More boring mumbo jumbo.

Second layer… “How does that even work? Has he noticed me yet? Can he recognize thoughts? Do internal monologues have their own voices? What else can he do? How powerful is he? What are his intentions? Is he secretly evil?”

Third layer, “That’s so cool, I wanna know more! I trust him, he isn’t evil!”

Narrator’s note: after the first layer, people’s thoughts usually aren’t sentences anymore, just topics, but Kyle automatically strung those topics into sentences.

Thinking in three layers, especially in the way Wendy did, was uncommon, and Kyle enjoyed it every time he heard it coming from some bright person’s mind. It was just interesting to him.

But in this case it was bad for him.

He flipped the page, pretending to read. He could tell the bookkeeper was starting to think he was either really stupid for reading so slowly, or he was thinking about porn.

Odd woman. Why does her mind go there, of all places? I could just be zoning out. I am, kind of.

On the other side of the wall, in the next place, Wendy was closing in on him.

I have to get her to stop investigating and stalking me. She can’t find out too much. I don’t want to scare her.

Chapter Text

15:30. Detention, again. Kyle felt like banging his notebook against his head. Cartman hadn’t shut up once.

“..that something I’d do? Is the Pope making the world safer for pedophiles? Do you think chef is a pedophile? Man, I’d kill for an all-you-can-eat buffet right nyow, Kahl… I’m so hungry… Hey, did you know Lady Gaga supports your jew ass country? Man, one hand I’m like, I like the bombs, but on the other, it’s like, why would she support joos? Ooh, Kahl, did you hear that Clyde…”

Oh my god, Cartman, shut the fuck up.

But Kyle couldn’t step a foot out of line, he’d promised his mother to stop having rage attacks and beating the shit out of throwing hissy fits.

Craig wasn’t in today. He looked around the room for anyone he knew, but nothing.

This is gonna be a long hour.

“..So then she told me that Bebe was spotted at Mr. Slaves house! I mean, what was she even doing there? He’s as straight as the letter s!”

Kyle couldn’t take it anymore. “I know, fatass, I was there when he shoved Paris Hilton up his ass.”

“Ey! Don’t call me fat, you fucking jew!”

That caught their supervisor’s, Mr. Garrison’s, attention.

“Eric! Did you just say the f-word?”

Cartman stared at Garrison with a braindead look on his face. “..Jew?”

Are you actually fucking retarded?

“No, Eric, I meant ‘fuck.’”

“Well, what’s wrong with that?”

“You can’t say ‘fuck’ in school, Eric!”

“Why the fuck not?”

“Eric! I’m serious! Watch your foul mouth.”

Yeah, and stop stuffing it.

Cartman rolled his eyes. “Fine, whatever. So I was saying…”

Kyle groaned and let his head drop on his desk.

Rrrriing!!

Holy shit, fucking finally.

Kyle instantly packed his bag and hurried out of there, only to be met by a familiar face when he exited the classroom.

“Hey, Ky!” Stan waved.

“Stan? Did you have an extracurricular today? Why are you still here?”

“Huh? Ah, no, I waited for you to finish detention.” He said, just as Cartman was passing by, who uttered the word ‘fags’ before hobbling away.

“Oh.” Kyle frowned. “Why?”

“Okay, man, don’t be mad, but I need a favor.”

Narrowing his eyes, Kyle asked, “What is it?”

“You know my hair, right?”

He couldn’t help but roll his eyes at that. “I know of it.”

“Shut up. So, it has frosted tips, right?”

“Yeah.” Kyle snorted. “You look like Vanilla Ice.”

“Oh, just forget it!” Stan threw his hands in the air hopelessly and turned around.

“No, no, wait!” Kyle pulled him back in by the loop of his bag. “I’m sorry, I’ll listen!”

“Fine.” Stan gave him a grumpy look. “I want to dye my hair fully black again, but I need your help, because the last time that I bleached it… Well, I just don’t want a recap of that, it was a disaster.”

Kyle laughed. “Dude, your eyebrows were nearly invisible for a week!”

“Yeah. You’ll have to dye it for me.”

For a moment, Kyle considered it. “Okay, but on one condition — your hair gets washed beforehand. I am not putting my fingers in that greasy mess.”

Stan gave him a very angry look. “Well, you’ll just have to shampoo it, then.”

“Okay, do you have all the products?”

“Huh?” Dipshit.

“Guess we’re going shopping then…”

In the ‘hair products’ section, Kyle scanned the shelves for a dye that would match Stan’s roots without making all his hair fall out or something. Stan had found an eyelash curler and was now trying to comb his hair with it.

“Wait, this one might be good. Hold still.” Kyle compared the colour on the box to Stan’s ashy black locks. “Do you think you’ll have a different shade of black once we wash it?”

“I dunno.” Stan shrugged. “Just get a black one.”

Kyle shoved him lightly. “Alright, fine, it’s your hair. Look, this one has gloves included. Oh, by the way, you have shampoo and conditioner, right?”

Kyle could hear Stan thinking for a second. “Uh, yeah.”

“Okay, good. Let’s go to the self-scanning register.”

Now having purchased hair dye, Stan’s tips were almost ready to be de-frosted.

Kyle rummaged around the Marshs’ bathroom for some shampoo and conditioner.

“Stan!” He yelled, without looking over his shoulder.

“Hm?”

“Where is your hair wash??”

“Hold on.” Kyle heard Stan think of its location, then the sound of a drawer being slid open.

“Here.” He handed the bottle to Kyle.

“Two in one? Seriously?”

Stan stared at him. “What?”

“Nevermind, we’ll just have to make do.”

“Haha, make doodoo.”

Seriously?!

Ignoring Stan’s immaturity, Kyle turned on the shower head to let the water warm up.

“Go change into something that you don’t mind getting wet.”

And so, Stan left to go change in his room.

Meanwhile Kyle began reading the instructions on the hair dye box.

The door opened after a little while, and Stan came back, wearing — Whoa — just a towel around his waist.

“Dude!” Kyle jumped up and, because he’d picked up the shower head to check the temperature, almost spat water everywhere. “You can’t fucking be naked, go change!”

“I’m not naked! I have a towel.” Stan held up his hands in defense. “It’s clasped with a clip, see? It can’t fall off. Plus, I don’t want any of my clothes to get wet.”

Kyle rolled his eyes. “Whatever, fine…” Grumpy muttering. “The water’s ready, do you think you can sit on the edge of the bathtub?”

Stan nodded and carefully sat down.

“Okay, we’re going to have to wash it beforehand, so let’s just start with wetting your hair.” Kyle handed him the shower head.

“Huh? No, you said you’d wash it for me.” Stan held it up, waiting for Kyle to take it back.

“What? No I didn’t.” Kyle frowned, not taking the shower head from him.

“You did! I said ‘you’ll have to shampoo it’ and you said ‘okay’!” Stan nudged Kyle with the shower head.

Kyle stared down at him, narrowing his eyes. It was true, Stan was replaying the memory in his head, and Kyle remembered it as well. He hadn’t registered the other’s words that clearly, at the time. He didn’t know what he was agreeing to.

“I’m right, he knows it. Now Kyle Broflovski is going to wash my hair for me!”

Kyle finally took the shower head from Stan’s hand, fingers brushing for a brief moment. Stan peered up at him, a smug smile on his face. So, Kyle leaned over.. and fucking turned on the shower tap to fucking splash Stan in his face, to wipe off that smug smile, which drove Kyle crazy. In an annoyed way. Of course.

“Agh, dude, what the fuck!” Stan sputtered and ducked away.

“Fine.” Kyle didn’t bother turning the water off. “I’ll treat you like a fucking princess. But only because I’m a man of my word, even though you’re an absolute wanker, Stan Marsh.”

“Uh huh.” Stan’s thoughts turned a bit … different. Dismissing it like always, Kyle sighed, and pointed the shower head at Stan’s hair. “Lean back.” He ordered, which Stan did. Only his thoughts just got weirder, still agreeing with everything Kyle said, even if it was degrading him.

What the hell is so agreeable about ‘lean back’?

Kyle focused on the water skimming Stan’s roots, slowly moving the shower head in hopes of getting as much grossness out without having to touch it.

Which took a while, if you simply let the running water do the job.

After a bit, Stan huffed, a sort of sigh, but as if he’d been holding his breath for too long.

“What is it?” Kyle was still leaning over, trying to wash the sides of Stan’s hair now.

“It’s just… Leaning back without a backrest or anything, it’s kinda hard.” Stan was straining.

“Oh my god, shit, I didn’t realize, sorry!“ Kyle instantly helped Stan sit upright. “What should we do then?”

“Hmm.” Stan made his thinking face. “We could use the sink. The one in my room, I mean. It’s like, longer? You’ve seen it. Just.. easier to rest my head in it. Plus, I could roll my chair up to it, and I wouldn’t have to strain my back.”

“Oh, okay. What about the shower head? No way it extends that far.”

“We’ll use the tap and a washcloth.” Stan had already grabbed the hair dye and gotten up. “C’mon.”

Kyle put the shower head back and took the two-in-one, then followed Stan into his room, where they rolled his chair to align with the sink. Stan took a seat and carefully laid his head back.

“Is it alright?” Kyle asked, turning on the tap and making sure it was on warm.

“Yeah.” Stan looked up at him. “Are you gonna wash my hair or what?”

“Don’t be so eager. I had to let the water wash out most of your grease first.”

“Hey!” Stan shoved him lightly, earning a snort from Kyle.

“Relax. It’s ready for me to shampoo now.” Kyle took the bottle and clicked it open. “Well. Ready for me to two-in-one it.” He poured some onto his hands and rubbed it out, making sure it was spread evenly. Then, carefully, he dug his fingers into Stan’s hair.

“Is this okay?”

“Uh-huh..” Stan had already closed his eyes.

Kyle shrugged and began washing, going in circles and making sure he didn’t miss even a quarter of an inch.

Meanwhile Stan’s brain was apparently also being mushied with soap, seeing as he wasn’t forming a single coherent thought anymore.

“Hmmm…”

Kyle rolled his eyes affectionately. Slaving my ass off over here. At least Stan’s enjoying it.

Oh. Kyle had missed a spot at the back. He leaned forward, standing up on his tip toes. Hovering over Stan, he worked his fingers through the locks at the back of Stan’s head.

“Oh.” Huh, Stan must’ve opened his eyes. “Leaning over me.” But Kyle said nothing, he just peered down. For a moment, he caught Stan’s eye, but then the other boy quickly shut his eyes once more. Kyle didn’t mind.

Still washing Stan’s scalp, Kyle’s long fingers worked their way lower and lower, to the hairs at the back of Stan’s neck.

He stopped.

Stan’s thoughts remained steady. He hadn’t noticed, perhaps.

An impulsive thought entered Kyle’s own mind, a thought of which he’d like to ignore its origin.

He softly tugged on the hairs in the back of Stan’s neck.

That, Stan very much did notice. His eyes shot open, and Kyle was met with a train of loud, panicked thoughts.

“Ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygod. Did he really just do that? Ohhhh. My god! That- That’s- It’s- That’s something you do when kissing someone! He just pulled my hair! The ones at the back! Those are the most sensitive ones! What the fuuuckk?” The spiral went on. Calm down. Stan actually did keep himself surprisingly calm on the outside, he’d only opened his eyes, nothing more. But unfortunately for Stan, Kyle could read minds. Partially against his own will.

Ignoring Stan’s freak-out, Kyle turned on the tap and began rinsing out his hair.

“Almost done.” He said, still leaning over to make sure he was covering every inch of Stan’s scalp. Maybe the two-in-one wouldn’t mix well with the box dye, and Stan would go bald. Neither of them wanted that.

He turned off the tap when all the bubbles were gone, and threw Stan a towel. “Dry off, would you?” Kyle would never admit it, but he was a little pissed at how freaked out Stan had gotten. It was nothing, right? I just pulled his hair, is all. Why is he so upset? Did I do something wrong?

(Stan was not upset.)

Grabbing the hair dye from Stan’s bed, Kyle began opening the box and pulled out a tube, a small black container, a weird sort of brush that looked like a paintbrush, and a pair of gloves.

“Hey, Stan, do you-“ Kyle began speaking, but trailed off when he turned around and was met with the sight of a wet-haired Stan wearing nothing but two towels, one around his waist and the other draped around his shoulders.

“Uh.” Kyle blinked, standing still in the middle of the room and very obviously staring.

Luckily for Kyle, Stan was (also) an oblivious fuck. “What’s wrong?” He frowned. “Is there still soap in my hair?” Stan ran a hand through it, which made Kyle feel very platonic and normal. He swallowed. Kyle was also very platonically looking at Stan’s surprisingly toned set of abs.

Lightly shaking his head, Kyle focused up. “Nothing. Let’s de-frost these tips!” He grinned, “Can you go look for vaseline or lip balm? The instructions say we need to protect your hairline or something, but it didn’t include any.” Kyle shook his head.

“Kay.” Stan took off, on a quest to find some.

Kyle put on the gloves and opened the tube. Carefully, he sniffed it. Ugh! Disgusting! The chemical smell made him want to throw up. Can I mix it with cologne, or something? He took his phone and googled it. Nope. Looks like he was gonna have to suck it up.

He suddenly remembered he’d forgotten to mix the box dye.

“Stan!” He yelled out.

“What?” Stan came back with a medium jar of vaseline.

“Can you go get a bowl to mix it in? And a towel or rag or cloth, anything that we can use to not stain you with dye?”

“Sure.” Stan set the jar down and took off again.

Kyle opened the small black container and peered at the powder inside. He closed it again, and set all the products they’d need on the rim of Stan’s sink.

Okay, the tube and powder need to be mixed in the bowl, the brush is to apply it, I have the gloves on, and Stan’s getting a towel for his shoulders. Oh, and the vaseline. That should be all. Kyle was a rather organized guy.

Stan came back with a bowl and an old t-shirt. “Here.” He set the bowl down and took a seat on the chair.

“Okay…” Kyle began mixing the powder from the container and the goo from the tube in the bowl with the brush. Should’ve used a spoon…

Stan had tied the shirt around his shoulders. “Is it ready yet?”

“Be patient.” Kyle continued mixing. “Put some vaseline on your hairline.”

Stan complied.

“Okay”, Kyle brought the brush to Stan’s head, “This might be cold…”

He began dyeing the half-blonde’s frosted tips black. They were slowly melting, as to say. Stan shuddered. “Feels weird.”

“Yeah.” Kyle parted his hair into sections, making sure to not miss a spot. That’d look weird. “Sorry.”

He could see goosebumps on Stan’s neck when he ran a finger through his hair to section it again. Don’t pull on it again…

Kyle moved to the other side of Stan’s head. “Almost done…”

Stan whimpered.

Worryingly checking Stan’s face for any signs of distress, Kyle just saw his default expression, only with closed eyes. Huh. He thought nothing of it and continued dyeing his friend’s hair fully black.

“And… there we go.” Kyle spun him around in his chair, so that Stan faced the mirror. “The box says we can wash it off in 35 minutes.” Kyle gave him a stern look. “Put on some pants.”

“Thanks.” As Stan got up to dig around his closet for sweats, Kyle put an alarm on his phone.

“Oh, these are good.” Stan had found a pair.

“Whoa, whoa, hey, whoa!” Kyle had managed to stop him just in time. “What are you doing, dude?!”

Stan, who’d frozen while trying to unclasp his waist towel, stared at him confused. “What?”

Kyle rolled his eyes. “Whatever.” He got up and walked to the door, making sure not to look in Stan’s direction on his way. He closed the door behind him. Don’t want anyone to walk in on that.

Walking down the stairs and making his way to the kitchen, he came across Shelley.

“Hey, Shelley.” He greeted whilst opening the fridge door.

“Hey, turd.” She took off to her room.

Kyle scanned the fridge. Oh, iced tea. He took out the pack and opened the cupboard for two glasses, pouring it in. Then, he put the pack back in the fridge, and went back upstairs.

He stopped in front of the door and let one of the glasses float in the air, so he could use his free hand to knock. “Stan? Do you have pants on?”

“Yeah, come in.”

Kyle didn’t trust Stan, but his thoughts revealed nothing about some sneaky surprise, so he opened the door and grabbed the glass back (obviously without Stan seeing) to find Stan scrolling on his phone on his bed. He did have pants on. Phew.

“Here.” Kyle handed him one of the glasses, for which Stan thanked him. He plopped down on the bed and took out the book he kept in Stan’s bedside drawer.

32 minutes later, Kyle’s alarm went off.

He groaned and sat up, putting the book away. Just as it was getting good!

“Alright, Marsh, head down on in the tub. Come on.”

Stan got up from the bed and walked over to the bathroom. Kyle followed behind.

He made Stan hold his head above the drain in the bathtub, pushing his neck down with a freckled hand. Stan laughed.

“Dude, get off!”

“No way, Marsh, you’re mine!” Kyle faked an evil laugh. “Do as I say, or I’ll waterboard you!”

They burst out into giggles.

“No, but seriously dude, I will splash you again if you do something stupid.”

He turned on the water and let it rinse the remnants of the dye out of Stan’s hair.

“This is nice and warm after that coldness.” Stan commented.

“Yeah?” Kyle absentmindedly nodded.

“Fuck yeah…”

Cool the enthusiasm, man, chill.

The dye was washing out surprisingly well.

“Almost done!”

Kyle turned off the tap. “There you go! Dry off, would you?”

Stan did, and he wasn’t gentle with his hair. Kyle rolled his eyes. “If you had curly hair, it’d be a mess. You can’t tend to it at all!”

“Yeah, that’s why you have pretty curls and I have pretty locks.” Stan put the towel down and checked himself out in the mirror.

“Do you like it?”

The now-raven-haired boy smacked his hands together and grinned at his reflection.

“I love it!” He impulsively gave Kyle a kiss on the cheek. It was quick. “Thanks, dude.” A slap on the back, to ‘bro’ it up.

What was that?

“WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?”

“You owe me one, Stanley Marsh.” Kyle figured it would ease the situation if he acted like nothing happened. For Stan’s sake. He’d always been kind of a panicky boy.

“You got it, Kyle Broflovski.”

They shared a look. Kyle’s smile spread to Stan, and before they knew it, they were bursting out in laughter again.

And… his hair looks pretty.

Chapter Text

14:27. Maths class.

The teacher had already gone through all the material, so the last few minutes were free time. Kyle and Wendy had decided to spend it bantering about their grades.

“I have an eight average for maths!”

“I have an eight point five!”

“Yeah, well, I got a nine point six for my history presentation!”

“I beat you on that history quiz!”

“Well, I…” Kyle frowned, trying to think of something, but they’d already discussed all their marks countless times. “I’m bored.”

“Me too.” Wendy sighed. “How much longer until the bell rings?”

Kyle checked his watch. “Three minutes.”

Wendy groaned.

“Now two.”

“I know what you are.”

Kyle tried to keep a straight composure. Remain unfazed. Don’t show her anything.

Wendy began doodling on her notebook, mind already astray from cornering Kyle.

“Whatcha drawing?” He peered over.

“Flowers. I’m gonna die of boredom.”

Kyle said nothing.

For a little while, he just watched her draw.

The sounds of Wendy’s pen scratching on the paper was somehow louder than the students’ conversations to him.

So, he made the tip of her pen break off.

“Hey, wha…”

Shit, didn’t think that through, would she know?

Wendy sighed and packed her things, not thinking anything of it. Or simply not caring. She looked at Kyle, desperately. “How much longer now?”

He checked his watch again. “One more minute.”

The bell rang.

“Scratch that, now.” They let out relieved sighs as they swung their bags over their shoulders and got up.

“See you tomorrow, Testaburger.”

“I’m gonna eat you alive, Broflovski.”

They waved goodbye.

Kyle trailed behind the rest of his classmates until the hallways got quiet.

I have to piss.

So he went into the mens’ restroom and used the urinal.

Just as he was finishing up, he heard someone’s thoughts closeby. They stood out against the silence. The door opened, and Bebe Stevens walked in.

“What the hell?!” Kyle jumped up, hurrying to zip his pants.

“Hey, baby.” Bebe smiled at him, but her mood didn’t match her expression.

“Bebe, what the fuck! This is the mens’ room!” Kyle exclaimed.

She crossed her arms. “Yeah, and? I come in here all the time.” She continued in a singing voice. “The acoustics are amaaa-zing!”

Kyle was not impressed, and he made sure to show it on his face. “What do you want?”

“Whoa, chill!” She held her hands up in defense. “What I want is for you to buy me shoes.”

Is she being serious right now? I can’t even tell, all she’s thinking about are Mary Janes.

“Why would I do that, Bebe? We’re not even friends, let alone dating.”

She mock-pouted, leaning forward seductively. “Because, pretty boy,” — Kyle rolled his eyes — “I have you on camera, bending a drainpipe into a stairway and then bending it back. Or rather, your mind doing that. How would you like it if I posted that?” She was still making a mocking pouty face.

His mouth dropped open. “You- what?” He sputtered.

“Yeah.” Bebe crossed her arms again. “The video also shows you sneaking back in after what I assume must be a night out that your parents didn’t know of… But I think the whole supernatural powers thing is better blackmail stuff.” She yawned. Actually yawned. 

Like she isn’t threatening to ruin my life over shoes right now??

He stared at her, mouth agape, and she smirked back.

“Speaking of bending things-“

Oh, he could tell where her thoughts were going.

“No, Bebe, ew, gross!” He made a gagging gesture. “Fucking sickening!”

Her smirk only grew wider. “That cake though…”

Ew, ew, ew!

“Whatever.” Bebe un-crossed her arms to rest her hands on her hips instead. “Just get me some cute pairs! Make sure they’re cute, like Mary Janes or something.”

“How the hell am I supposed to get those? I’m a teenage student, I’m not any less broke than you.”

She glared at him. “I don’t care how you do it, just figure it out. Steal them with your pipe-bending abilities or something. Else I’m posting this.” She waved her phone in front of his face, showing off the video.

“Ugh.” Kyle frowned at it.

“You have five days.” She raised her eyebrows, giving him a warning look.

“Fine.”

He aggressively swung open the door, not bothering to use his hands. It made a loud smack! sound when it hit the bathroom wall. Bebe already knew anyway, there was no point in holding it in.

“Oh, I love watching him walk away.”

Gross!

Kyle stormed off.

~

The next day at lunch, Kyle spoke up. Stan was sitting next to him, with Cartman and Kenny across from them. The cafetaria was loud, and he couldn’t focus. He’d waited until everyone had (mostly) finished their food and went outside for break to bring it up.

“Um, guys? I kind of need your help.” He awkwardly blurted out.

“What is it?” Stan asked.

Kenny looked at him to show that he had his attention.

“Well, I can’t say here in the cafeteria, but um, Ken, I kind of need your car, and a ride. And Stan, I need you to return the favor.”

“You want me to dye your hair?” Stan beamed, instantly giddy with the idea.

“What? No.” Kyle shook his head and Stan slumped in response, disappointed. “I…” He glanced over at Cartman, who was intensively listening.

“You know what? I’ll just text you guys about it. Make sure you’re free tonight.”

Cartman peered at them through his narrowed eyelids. “Fuckers.”

“Shut up!” Stan glared at him.

Kyle rolled his eyes and swallowed the last bite of his apple.

“So, Stan,” Kenny mumbled, “why did you decide to dye your hair back?”

A few moments passed, in which Stan was trying to make out what Ken had said, and then he answered. “I don’t know. I guess I just didn’t like the way it looked anymore. I mean, it was all faded, and grey, and just weird, you know?”

Kyle snorted. “And you looked like Vanilla Ice.”

Stan shoved him. “Shut up, ginger.”

“Fuck you, Marsh!” Kyle stuck out his tongue.

“Oh, you’d love to, Broflovski!” The other teased.

“Wh… Your mom!” Kyle retaliated.

Kenny stared at them. “Kyle dyed your hair for you, didn’t he?”

He turned around, frowning. “Well, yeah? He would’ve probably dyed his whole room black, too, if he’d tried to do it by himself.”

Cartman got involved now, too. “Wait, so you guys put your fingers in each other’s hair and massaged it and shit?”

Stan and Kyle stared at their friends, only just now realizing how intimate it had been.

“Well, we…” Stan sputtered.

“It wasn’t…” Kyle’s tongue tripped over itself.

Kenny and Cartman both raised one of their eyebrows slowly, in sync. They didn’t have to say anything to make clear what they meant. “That’s gay.”

Kyle sighed. “It wasn’t like that!”

“It wasn’t?”

Wait, who thought that? Sounded… Whatever.

“So you heterosexually put your hands all in Stan’s hair and leaned over him?”

Stan spoke up, failing to defend them. “Well, no, it… uhm…” He frowned at himself. “It just wasn’t gay, okay? We’re friends. We are friends.”

Kyle looked over at him. “Uh, we used to be super best friends, dipshit.”

“Right.” Stan corrected himself. “Super best friends!”

Kenny and Cartman didn’t look very convinced, but they dropped the subject for the time being.

“I don’t feel like going to maths after this. I think I’m just gonna…”

~

13:45. Chemistry. With Bebe.

Fase One of Kyle’s plan was about to take action.

He knew she kept her phone in her bag during class, even though it wasn’t allowed. He knew she would never want to miss a text. He also knew how to make devices buzz on command.

So, when the class was quiet because of a video the teacher was showing, he took his chance.

Her phone was in her front pocket.

Buzz.

She’d heard. From his seat, Kyle watched Bebe peer around, then zip open her bag — cute bear zipper — to check who’d texted her.

Just as she was about to put it on her lap, he yanked it away with telekinesis, making it drop on the floor next to her table.

A loud clattering sound filled the quiet room.

Bebe froze up as twenty-six heads turned around to look at her. Including Mr. Clarke.

“What have we here, young lady?”

“Shit.” She whispered.

“Excuse me, miss Stevens? No phones in school and no cursing in school. I’ll have to take this from you as punishment. You can get it back tomorrow at four p.m., in the counselor’s office.”

“Tomorrow?!” She exclaimed. “Are you kidding me?”

“Well, this is the seventh time, miss Stevens. You don’t seem to learn your lesson when we keep it just one day. Try to leave your telephone at home next time.”

Bebe scowled, slumping in her chair.

“Alright, how do I un-pause…”

Stage One had went perfectly. Kyle was proud of himself. Now he just had to sit out the rest of the school day.

~

17:47. Just before dinner. Kyle had decided to text his friends the plans early, so that hopefully nothing would go wrong, and everyone could prepare themselves.

He picked up his phone and looked for the Stan-Kenny-Kyle group chat, specifically the one without Cartman.

‘Gang wo fatboy’. There. He clicked on it.

Kyle chuckled to himself. Least original name ever.

He began typing.

kyyy

hey guys

stan the man

heyyyy

kyyy

so about today

kenny i need u to drive me and stan to school tonight at 19:00

they close up at 20:00 tho so we need to be done by then but i dont think it’ll be a problem

and after if you could please drop us off at our houses?

stan and i will break in and get bebe’s phone i cant say why

but um i do need you to wait in the car IM SO SORRY KEN i just need u guys to trust me

mccordick

dw about it dude i gotchu

stan the man

yea we trust you

kyyy

thanks guys i really appreciate it

see you soon!

mccordick

see u!

be there at 6:55 pm and stan were picking u up at around 7

stan the man

okayy

“Kyle, bubby, dinner’s ready!”

Kyle put his phone down and looked up. “Coming, mom!”

Chapter Text

18:56. Kenny had rung the doorbell to the Broflovski household. Kyle heard him play a song in his head while he waited for someone to open the front door.

The youngest member of the family was the one to answer it.

“Hi, Kenny!” Ike smiled.

“Hey, Ike! Can you go get your brother for me?”

Ike ran into the living room. “Kyle, it’s for you!”

Kyle put his book down and got up from the couch to go greet Kenny at the door.

“Hey, Ken! Thank you for doing this, seriously.”

Kenny smiled at him. “No problem, Kyle. I’m happy to help. Did you tell your parents?”

He nodded. “Yeah, they know we’ll be back before 20:30, it’s totally okay.”

“Alright!”, Kenny turned around and walked over to his car, “Let’s go pick up Stan.”

Kyle got in the passengers seat. The car sputtered a bit before Kenny managed to turn the keys, and they drove off.

~

“Stan! Open up!” Kenny banged his hands on the front door, being much less gentle than he had been with Ike.

Kyle joined in. “Get out here, Marsh!”

They heard a thumping inside, and Kyle could tell Stan didn’t appreciate their way of greeting.

“These fuckers…”

Stan opened the door, furrowing his eyebrows at them. He was clearly not impressed.

“Dude, are you wearing your pyjama’s?” Kenny frowned.

“What? No, this is a hoodie and these are my comfy pants. What are you on?”

Kyle nearly interrupted his explanation. “Get in the car, Stan! We have one hour.”

Stan closed the door behind him. “Okay, okay.”

They hurried into the car, Stan being banished to the back seat (and facing mockery for it), and Kenny drove off again, his car coughing at the difficult task of doing its job.

“Okay, Kyle, you know we trust you, but could you provide any form of context at all?” Kenny asked, without taking his eyes off the street.

Stan chimed in. “Yeah, man, we have no idea why you need to steal some girl’s phone!”

Kyle sighed, contemplating how much he could tell them. “I just need to delete something, okay? Don’t worry about it.”

Stan wasn’t convinced. “Why Bebe’s phone? What could she have on there that he doesn’t want her to? Do they… have something together?”

But he said nothing.

They didn’t spend the short car ride in silence, at least. The three boys knew how to kill time. Kenny’s car only had one old CD stuck in the player, so the whole ride was spent forcibly listening to ‘Dancing Queen’ by ABBA. None of them had a problem with it.

“Young and sweet! Only seventeen!” Kenny screamed at the top of his longs.

“Ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum!” Kyle sang, as Stan played the air guitar.

Some people did not appreciate the loud noise which the car brought along everywhere it went. A few fists were shaken, a few insults were yelled — but the boys didn’t care at all.

After disturbing the peace in South Park for about seven minutes, the boys arrived at the school. Kyle had already told Kenny to turn off the song earlier, when they got closer to South Park High, knowing the noise might alarm anyone still inside.

The car pulled up into the parking lot, and Kenny shut off the engine.

“Alright, just wait here, Ken. Stan and I will be back in fifteen minutes tops!” Kyle said as he got out.

“Kay!” Kenny waved them goodbye as they approached the back entrance.

Stan grabbed the handle of the door and tried it, but —

“It’s locked.” Stan mumbled. “Shit.”

Kyle nudged Stan aside and bent down, pulling out a hair pin that he sometimes used if his hair got too unruly.

Stan’s eyes grew wider as Kyle picked the lock. “You can..?”

Kyle nodded, keeping his eyes on the lock.

“Holy shit, that’s so…”

Stan didn’t get to finish that thought, however, because the lock clicked open and Kyle held the door open.

“After you, sir.” He chuckled.

Stan entered, smirking back at him. “Thank you, sir.”

The school was still illuminated by the faint light of the sun, although it would set soon. The two boys quietly walked around, finding their way through the building. Even though the school was still open to students who had, for example, left their pencil case in their locker, they would rather not be seen or heard, just in case.

It was quiet and empty, much unlike South Park High usually was. Kyle took a deep breath in, smiling. Peaceful.

Their footsteps were loud compared to the silence, and they had to walk slowly to avoid making too much noise.

Side by side, they oriented themselves and began looking for the counselor’s office.

After a minute or two, Kyle nudged Stan and pointed at a red door with a sign on it. ‘Mr. Mackey’, it read.

“You stay on the lookout, I’ll break in and… take the phone.” Kyle whispered.

“Okay.” Stan leaned against the wall, making himself comfortable.

Kyle turned around, covering the lock with his back so Stan couldn’t see. He was too lazy to pick it again. So, he used psychokinesis instead, moving the metal around until it clicked open.

Stan was playing a song in his head to kill the time. 

“With the lights out, it’s less dangerous…”

He made sure to leave the door open just an inch, in case they needed to make a quick getaway. Though he sure hoped they wouldn’t have to — there was nowhere to hide, and running would for sure get them caught. No time to think about that right now, just focus.

Kyle tucked a curl behind his ear and began opening drawers, looking for phones.

Not in this cabinet…

But he got lucky with Mackey’s desk drawer — three phones, seven toys, and a few trinkets were sprawled out over documents and papers.

”I feel stupid, and contagious…”

Kyle took one look at the three phones and instantly knew which one was Bebe’s.

The one with the bunny-shaped case.

He recognized it from when she had so annoyingly waved it in front of his face.

He took it in his hands and unlocked it with psychokinesis. Finding the ‘photos’-app was surprisingly enough the most difficult part — Bebe had customized her app icons, which meant that none of them looked familiar to Kyle.

After scrolling for thirty seconds, he found an icon titled ‘photos’ and opened it.

What on earth?

Her gallery was filled with selfies and pictures of shoes, probably saved from Pinterest.

Kyle frowned. How the hell am I supposed to find the video in this mess?

Then he remembered he’d snuck out on Tuesday, the week before. So he scrolled up until he found the date, and indeed — the video of Kyle in his backyard stood out sharply against the photoshoot Bebe had had that night, with-

Wait, mister Slave?

Kyle’s mouth dropped open.

Shit, of course, he lives behind us, just in filming reach. And Cartman said… Oh, fuck me.

He didn’t dwell on it any further and decided to just delete the footage from her phone, making sure to not forget about her ‘Recently Deleted’ album.

”And I forget, just why I taste, oh yeah, I guess it makes me smile…”

Kyle put the phone back and closed Mackey’s drawer, getting up from his crouching position. My knees hurt. He stretched and called out for Stan.

“Stan, I’m done! Let’s go back to the car.” He exited Mackey’s office, shutting the door behind him and secretly locking it with psychokinesis once more, hoping Stan didn’t notice.

“Alright. Now, when will you tell us what the hell that was about?” Stan walked towards Kyle, who was putting his bobby pin back in his ponytail.

“I already told-“

“Almost done closing up…”

Shit.

Kyle heard someone’s thoughts coming. The sudden sound of approaching footsteps startled Stan, as well. Panicked, the other boy looked around.

But Kyle got an idea.

“Stan?” He urged.

“Yeah?” Stan turned his attention back to Kyle, blue eyes meeting splotched green.

Kyle hesitated, his sight shifting from Stan’s left eye to his right, then dropping down for a moment before meeting his eyes again.

But the footsteps were getting closer and closer, and once the person turned the corner, they’d be caught. He didn’t have any other ideas.

“Just trust me.” Kyle let out a final breathy whisper before he grabbed Stan by the collar and yanked their faces together.

For a split second, Stan froze, and Kyle could hear his thoughts stop. Then, he melted into the kiss, hands instantly resting on Kyle’s arms, gripping his jacket.

“Good.. cover…” His thoughts sounded a little mushier than usual.

Hm.

The way Stan had to slightly tilt his head up and sideways to really melt their lips together — in order to make it more believable, of course — made Kyle feel funny, but he ignored it.

The redhead peeked through his lashes and saw the janitor walking by, smiling to himself.

“I get it. Youngsters. I’ll just pass by.”

Still allowing Stan to tug on his jacket lightly and graze his lips, Kyle waited until the janitor was out of earshot.

They separated.

Stan was the first to speak. “Good call.” He coughed.

Kyle was still panting a bit. “Thanks, uh. I figured it would be the most believable way out. You know. He’s, uh, he’s gone.”

“Yeah.” Stan averted his gaze. “We’re in the clear.”

“Uh, we should probably…”

“Yeah…”

They turned around and began walking back to the exit.

“What was that??” Stan thought. Kyle didn’t blame him — the whole thing had stirred him too.

They went back to the car in silence, the both of them avoiding eye contact with one another.

When they got in, Kenny gave them a questioning look.

“Well? How did it go?”

“Such a normal time!” Stan loudly blurted out.

“Uhm, what? Why are you being weird?”

“Stan and I kissed.” Kyle said quietly, hands in his lap.

“WHAT?!” Kenny almost jumped out of the car seat and turned around so fast that he nearly broke his spine. “Tell me everything!” He squealed.

“It wasn’t for real!”, Kyle defended, “It was just to keep our cover intact. A janitor walked by and I figured it would be the best excuse. No big deal.”

“It’s never nothing! But fine. ‘No big deal’! Call me when you grab each other’s asses.”

“Kenny!” Stan scoffed as the blonde started the car.

“Hey, I’m just saying…”

Kenny’s old car hiccuped away in the dark of the night.

Chapter Text

16:03. Kyle, Stan, Kenny and Cartman had went to the mall after school, just to go hang out. Kyle was grateful for it, he really needed to blow off some steam. With everything going on — suppressing his powers all day, studying until late at night, having to keep Wendy and Heidi off his tail (which he was failing at miserably), and pretending like it hadn’t been awkward between him and Stan ever since that night at school — he was exhausted, and could barely keep his powers at bay.

“Whoa, guys, look, that store has a self-serve snow cone machine!” Cartman’s drooling snapped him out of his thoughts.

“Of course you only want sugary garbage, fatass.” Kyle snapped.

Kenny tugged on his sleeve. “No, dude, a snow cone sounds good, actually!”

Stan was half zoned out and didn’t bother participating in their snow cone debate.

“Really?”, Kyle frowned, “In this frozen town? Okay.” He shrugged.

Cartman wasted no time upon hearing the group agree, and immediately hobbled over to the single-flavor machine.

Stan woke up from his trance. “Wait, what are we doing now?”

“Getting snow cones.” Kyle responded, studying Stan’s face for signs of distress. Stan had been acting a little off that day, and he was worried. Most of his thoughts had been meaningless or blank, and not silly, like they usually were.

But the mention of a snack cheered Stan up. “Oh, yum!” He followed Cartman to the machine.

Kyle and Kenny went after them. They all grouped around the snow cone machine, trying to figure out how to make it work.

Cartman banged the left side with his fist. “How does this work?”

Peering at the machinery, Kyle noticed that the auger blade inside, which was normally supposed to be chipping the ice around, wasn’t moving.

“I think it’s broken.” He stated.

Stan pouted. “Aw, no…”

Kyle felt a pang in his heart. “Well, maybe…” He walked around the machine, from the left side to the right, the side where the motionless auger was located.

He knew the machine couldn’t be fixed by inexperienced teenage boy hands, but it could be fixed with psychokinesis. He just needed a cover.

Kyle lifted his hand, balling it into a fist, and slammed it on the side of the machine, right by the auger. He made sure to turn the blade back on with telekinesis at the exact same moment.

“Holy shit, dude.” Stan muttered, watching as the machine turned on and began mixing the ice around.

“Oh, hell yeah!” Cartman grabbed a cup from the stand and immediately pressed the ‘Large’ button, getting a five dollar bill out of his pocket and putting it in the machine.

It slurped up his bill and began filling up the cup that Cartman had placed under the dispenser.

“Sweet…” The boy whispered as he watched the cup nearly flow over with chipped ice and syrup.

The boys took turns filling a cup of their own, all getting a size medium, and grabbing a little plastic spoon from the stand to eat it with. Kyle paid for Kenny’s cup.

He watched as Stan took the time to specifically pick out a green plastic spoon.

“Dude, it’s just a spoon.” Kenny commented, who had also seen him dig around for a green one.

Stan didn’t respond, simply locking eyes with Kenny as he scooped his green spoon in his cup and took his first bite.

The boys followed Cartman to a table with four chairs. They each took a seat and began eating their snow cones.

“Hmm, yum…” Cartman made very annoying mouth sounds when eating.

Ugh.

Kenny scooped up an extra large ice chip and ate it, then consequently turned slightly blue, to no one’s surprise. “Ack, brain freeze!” He squeezed his eyes shut.

“Ha-ha, Kenny’s frosting!” Cartman pointed.

Kyle laughed at the blonde’s face, taking bites of his own cone.

He looked over to Stan, who was adorably munching on his spoon. He watched as Stan dipped his spoon into the mountain of ice, took the largest scoop he could fit on it, very carefully brought it up to his open mouth, and…

It fell off.

Without thinking, Kyle caught the scoop mid-air and swooped it back up Stan’s spoon. With telekinesis. Not his hands.

FUCK.

Stan froze, as did Cartman, who’d watched it happen.

A few seconds of silence, then —

“What. The. Fuck.” Cartman said.

Stan stared at his spoon, blinking.

Kenny looked over, having missed what had happened.

“Dude,” Cartman pointed at Stan’s spoon, “your ice cream’s possessed.”

Kyle bit his lip, praying that nobody would realize.

“What?” Kenny asked, frowning at Stan’s spoon.

“My scoop…” Stan whispered.

“His ice just fell off and then defied gravity and flew back up on his spoon!” Cartman was nearly tripping over his words now.

“Maybe it was a gravitational anomaly?” Kyle suggested innocently.

“Or a glitch in the matrix.” Kenny laughed.

Stan chuckled too. “Yeah, I must be the chosen one.”

Cartman burst out in laughter. “Watch out, everyone! Stan Marsh, the bender of the universe!”

Kyle nervously laughed along, cursing himself out in his mind.

“Hey guys!” A girl’s voice suddenly spoke up behind him.

“Wah!” Kyle exclaimed, startled. He turned around in his chair. “Oh, hey Wends!”

Can’t hear jack shit with all these people around…

Wendy grabbed a chair from another table and took a seat at theirs. “Whatcha doin’?” She asked.

Stan smiled at her. “I’m the master of time and space.” He stated proudly, leaning back in his chair.

Wendy frowned at him at first, but then she smirked, deciding to play along. “Really? What did you do, trip over your own feet but catch yourself just in time?”

Oh no.

“Actually-“ Stan began, but before he could say anything else, the stools of his chair wobbled dangerously, then toppled over. His chair fell.

He landed on the floor of the mall with a smack.

Desperate times called for desperate measures!

Kenny immediately scrambled up, rushing over to help Stan. “Dude, are you okay?”

Stan stood up, face bright red, and wiped some dust off his pants. “Yes.” He whispered.

Wendy stood up as well, lifting Stan’s chair and placing it back.

Cartman stared at them, contently eating his ice and not lifting a finger.

Kyle decided he ought to show some concern too, given as both Kenny and Wendy were frowning and had made physical efforts to help Stan.

“Are you okay? Were you hurt?” He made sure to lean over and show genuine concern on his face.

“Uh, yeah.” Stan gave him a little smile as he sat back down, scooting the chair a little closer to the table. “That was just embarrassing…” He mumbled, looking down.

Kyle made the mistake of saying the first thing that came to mind. “Don’t worry, you’re cute when you’re clumsy.”

He internally winced as the whole table slowly stopped what they were doing and turned around to look at him.

Including Stan. Whose face was, once again, as red as Kyle’s hair.

“Holy fuck holy fuck holy fuck holy fuck holy fuck.”

Kyle felt like digging a giant hole in the floor of the mall, climbing into it, and closing it back up.

“He thinks I’m cute?!”

He looked from Kenny to Cartman to Wendy and gave an awkward chuckle. “What?”

“AAAAAAAA-“

Wendy raised her eyebrows. “Seriously? You’re asking ‘what’?”

Cartman chimed in. “Dude, that was the gayest thing I’ve ever heard you say. And I have to sit through English with you and Stan.”

Stan was still internally collapsing, literally just scream-thinking at this point.

Kyle faked a laugh. “What, I can’t call my bros cute now?”

“No.” Kenny deadpanned. “You can’t. That’s not a bro thing.”

“No, seriously, even girls don’t say stuff like that to our friends.” Wendy crossed her arms.

“C’mon, guys, it’s just a compliment. Right, Stan?”

But Kyle immediately regretted asking him.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-“

Yeah. He’d broken Stan’s brain.

Cartman was the first to notice Stan’s abnormally long silence and shifted his gaze from Kyle to him.

“Why’s Stan so red?”

So, Cartman asked, “Stan, why’s your face so red? Are you concussed?”

Kenny and Wendy noticed, now, too.

“Stan?” Wendy asked.

“Okay, it's fine, your best friend just called you cute, just gotta regain your composure. No big deal.”

Stan finally managed to choke out a noise. First a cough, then a hoarse “I’m fine.”

Kenny frowned at Stan’s reaction. “Okay, maybe we went too far with the gay jokes.”

Oh, yes, Kenny, save us, please, thank god! Kyle let out a relieved sigh as he watched Kenny point over to the ice machine.

“Hey, Wendy, do you want an ice cone too?” Kenny asked, already walking toward the machine.

YES! Thank you!

She shrugged and followed. “Sure.”

“Calm down, they’re laying off you.” Stan was slowly coming to his senses again.

Cartman trailed behind them, off to go get a second cup, muttering something about Kyle being ‘terminally fruity.’

That left Kyle and Stan alone at the table.

Kyle shifted his weight. Stan wasn’t looking at him.

“So…” Kyle rubbed the back of his neck. “You, uh. Still concussed, or is that just your face now?”

Stan didn’t answer, but he finally looked up at him, chuckling a little before reaching over with his spoon to scoop up some of Kyle’s half-finished ice. Kyle watched intently as Stan licked the syrup off his green spoon. He blinked, confused.

What the fuck does that mean?

“So, we’re cool? I swear I didn’t mean it in a creepy way.” He tried again.

Stan met his eyes and nodded. “Yeah. We’re cool. No homo.”

“It’s not gay to think your best friend is cute anyway. So it’s fine.”

Wow. Kyle decided not to internally argue with that right now and instead focused on his strawberry-flavor ice cone.

They were cool. No homo.

Chapter Text

The sun was shining and the day was bright. Kyle felt well-rested and cheerful. Today, Kenny and Stan were going to come over for a sleepover. Kyle loved sleepovers, but usually only one of his friends came over. This was the first time in a while that both Kenny and Stan would come! Plus, Cartman couldn’t make it.

Kyle was busy setting up his devices and putting snacks in a bowl so they could play games or watch movies. He realized he’d forgotten the M&M’s downstairs and, since he was feeling lazy, decided to just zoom the candies up to his room. As he turned around to check if any stray socks or boxers were still hanging around, the bell rang. 

“Oh, I’ll get it, ma!” He yelled, wanting to open the door telekinetically. 

“Okay, Kyle!”

He remembered his friends were probably the ones at the door, and he really shouldn’t open it magically because it might give them a stroke. Then again, they had seen him levitating a scoop of ice before, and had thought nothing of it, only cracking jokes.
Still, Kyle was already making his way downstairs, because it couldn’t hurt to greet his friends at the door.
He swung it open and was met with two grinning faces. 

“Hi, guys!” Kyle greeted.

“Hey, dude!” Kenny entered the hallway, carrying a small, ragged backpack.

“Hi!” Stan stepped in, too, but he hadn’t brought anything — he had a drawer full of clothes at Kyle’s place, plus a toothbrush. Stan came over more frequently than Kenny did. 

Kyle was too busy taking Kenny’s backpack from him to notice his mother rushing in to gush over his friends. 

“Oh, hello, hello, Kenny and Stanley! How lovely of you to visit my Kyle!” Sheila was already diving in for a wet kiss on the boys’ cheeks. 

“No, mom, please, c’mon, lay off them…” Kyle sighed, knowing there wasn’t much he could do. He cringed as his mother gave Stan a kiss on each cheek. 

“Oh, uh… This is uncomfortable…” 

He opted to try and pry his mom off Kenny and Stan, but decided instead to just bring Kenny’s bag up to his room. There was no chance of getting her to back off now. 

Luckily, the other two boys entered his room not too long after. The three of them made eye contact. Kyle almost burst out laughing at his friends’ faces. Kenny was smiling awkwardly, and Stan was squirming a little, trying to wipe the lipstick off his cheek. 

“Your mom is, uh, very friendly.” Kenny plopped down on his bed. 

“As usual.” Stan added, sitting down next to Kenny. “So, uh, hey!”

They looked up at Kyle.
“Hi.” He smiled. “Do you guys want anything to drink?” 

Kenny frowned slightly and Stan made a thinking face. “What do you have?” The blonde asked. “I’d like sugar-free Cola.” Stan nodded.
“Oh.” Kenny smiled. “Me too, please.” 

He could tell Kenny actually had no idea what that was or what it tasted like, but nonetheless just wanted to be an easy and polite guest. 

Kyle gave them a nod to show he’d understood before he left to go get Cola from the fridge. He knew Kenny mostly drank water, so he was happy to make him a ‘special’ drink. He poured two tall glasses full, added a few ice cubes, and two straws — one orange, one blue. Obviously.

Kyle decided it would probably be smart to bring the bottle with him, too, in case they wanted more. That way they wouldn’t need to walk up and down the whole time. His hands were already full with the glasses, however, and he hadn’t even poured himself anything yet. Normally he would just kind of float everything up to his room. Well, normally he wouldn’t even get up off his bed in the first place. But it might have looked suspicious if he’d carried three glasses and a large bottle upstairs all in one go. So he let the third glass, his own, pour itself while he made his way back to his room. 

“I just have to grab my own glass and the bottle,” he said as he set the glasses down on his bedside table, “then I’ll be back.” 

“Kay.” Stan had found a book, and Kenny was reading along over his shoulder. In fact, it was Kyle’s favorite book, and the margins were filled with notes and comments he’d written in. He blushed a little bit as he watched his friends read something so very him, hoping they wouldn’t think it was weird. 

“That’s, uh.” He pointed at the book. “D’you like it?” 

“Hell yeah, dude.” Kenny looked up. “Your notes are really cool.” 

He awkwardly grinned back. “Thanks.” 

Kyle made his way back downstairs, grabbing his own glass (which was now full with Cola and adorned with ice cubes and a green straw, as well) and the Cola bottle. He went back upstairs and set them both down on the floor by his bedside table. Then he laid down on his bed, next to the others. 

“Do you guys wanna watch something?” He asked. 

Stan put the book back under the bed and sat upright. Kenny climbed up the bed and nestled into the pillows. Stan did, too, nestling himself inbetween Kenny and Kyle. 

“Yeah, sure.” Kenny said, grabbing the remote.
They turned on the tv and sank into Kyle’s bed, eating themselves fat with the sugar and snacks he’d set up.

But alas, after a fun day full of games and movies, and a lot of playfighting, it had been long past dark. The house was quiet, as was the whole town — everyone seemed to have gone to bed already. Kyle yawned and looked at his alarm clock. 
01:14. Yeah, they should probably be getting to sleep. He climbed off his bed and stretched. 

“Why’s Ky up?” 

“It’s late.” He said, pulling out a mattress from under his bed. “Which one of you is gonna sleep on this mattress, who’s gonna sleep in my bed, and who’s gonna sleep on the couch?” He asked as he grabbed some sheets and two pillows from a drawer. 

Kenny and Stan looked at each other. Stan shrugged. “I don’t mind, where do you wanna sleep?” 

Kenny looked at Kyle and wiggled his eyebrows, much to Kyle’s annoyance. “I could sleep on the couch…” 

I don’t like your tone. 

Stan, oblivious as he was, hadn’t noticed. “Sure.” 

“I’ll take the mattress, then.” Kyle offered, “The guest can take the bed.” 

“Ah, courteous of you.” Stan bowed. 

“Right?” Kyle smirked. “C’mon, Ken, I’ll show you to the couch.” He grabbed the bedsheets he’d gotten out of the drawer, along with a pillow and Kenny’s backpack. He made his way to the door, followed by Kenny, but turned around last minute.

“Stan, change into your pyjama’s while we’re gone.”

Stan rolled his eyes in response. 

Kyle led Kenny downstairs, to the couch, where he made a bed for him and showed Kenny how he could sleep best. He also showed Kenny the bird when he wouldn’t stop teasing about Kyle sharing his room and bed with Stan. After that, they went back upstairs to the bathroom, where Stan was already brushing his teeth. 

The three boys brushed their teeth in sync, flushed their mouths, washed their faces (Kyle more thoroughly than the others, and Stan hardly at all) and each took turns using the toilet. 

Kenny said goodnight to them and went downstairs to change into his pyjama’s. Kyle sent Stan to his room and fell behind in the bathroom, so he could change into his pyjama’s with some privacy. When he was done, he followed Stan into his bedroom and made his bed (‘bed’ being a mattress on the floor). Stan was already nuzzled into Kyle’s sheets — he’d been too lazy to change them, and it wasn’t like Stan ever minded. 

“Smells like Ky. Hm. I’m tired.” 

Kyle smiled to himself — Stan’s groggy brain was dozing off, which sounded stupidly funny — and made himself comfortable in the blankets he’d stashed. 

“Night, Stan.”
“Hrrrgmphf.”

~

“Psst, Ky!” He was startled from his slumber by a whisper coming from above. 

“What?” Kyle whispered back. 

“I can’t fucking sleep because it’s always cold at night in this bitchass town.” 

“..Okay?”, Kyle responded, “You’re just gonna have to fight through it, because I don’t have any more blankets.” 

Stan shifted over to the edge of the bed and stuck his head out, looking down at Kyle. “No, dude, c’mon! I’m fucking freezing! Is there nothing we can do?” He whined. 

Kyle peered up at him and sighed. “We could share body heat, but that’s really my only idea, so just try to sleep.” 

Stan was silent for a few seconds. Then, he whispered, “Okay.” 

“What?” Kyle rolled over to face his bed, in which Stan was supposed to be sleeping. 

“We’ll share body heat. C’mon, you won’t have to sleep on the floor!” 

Kyle sat up. “What?” He repeated. “Dude, I’m not gonna spoon you.” 

Stan rolled his eyes. “No, man, I’m just saying, get in here, we don’t have to cuddle or anything, just for body heat.” 

Kyle thought for a second. “Fine.” He got up and took his pillow under his arm. As he climbed into the bed, he said, “I’m gonna put my pillow between us so it’s not gay.” 

Which kind of defeated the point of sharing body heat, but that didn’t occur to either of the boys at the time. 

“Whatever, no homo, sure.” Stan laid back down, and Kyle snuggled into his side of the mattress as well. 

“But so help me god, Stan, if I feel even one of your cold ass feet near me, I will kick you in the shin.” 

“Okay, dude, chill!”, Stan laughed, “Good night, Kyle.” 

“Yeah, good night.”

~

He woke up in the dark. It had gotten warmer, seeing as they kicked off the sheets in their sleep. Kyle blinked. Wait. He felt something around him. He shifted at an attempt to sit a little more upright, and looked down. 

Stan’s arms were wrapped around his torso, his face squished into Kyle’s shirt-covered tummy. The pillow had been pushed off the bed.

Huh. Kyle took in the view for a moment.
Must’ve happened while we were asleep. But why did we kick off the sheets if it got that cold? Surely it must’ve been freezing if this subconsciously happened. It doesn’t matter anyway, I have to get up and drink some water. It’s a shame I’ll have to push him off, he looks cute like this. Wait, what? Whatever, I’m getting up. 

Carefully, Kyle tried to wiggle away, but Stan’s arms pulled him back in. He looked at the other boy’s face. Still asleep.

Kyle then tried to shove one of Stan’s arms off of his torso, but to no success — Stan just mumbled and gripped his old Terrance-and-Phillip shirt tighter.
So, Kyle poked him. 

“Wha..?” Stan groaned and his eyes fluttered open. 

“Dude, get off, I wanna go drink some water.” Kyle whispered. 

It did not occur to him, at the time, that if he hadn’t woken Stan, he could’ve just summoned a glass of water from the bathroom. However, waking up to a sleeping Stan Marsh snuggled around his torso would never cease to be immensely disheveling for Kyle Broflovski. Especially not the first time. So his mind wasn’t exactly in a clear state.

“What?” Stan looked up at Kyle from his stomach. His hair was messy from shoving it into Kyle’s shirt, and it was an intoxicating sight to look down and see Stan snuggled around his torso, green eyes meeting piercing deep blue. 

Oh.

“Uhm. Oh, right, I’m thirsty, can I…” Kyle tried to wiggle away again. 

“Aw, no, dude, stay…” Stan was still half asleep. 

Aww. “No, Stan, I really need to drink some water…” Kyle finally managed to slip away. 

“Nooo…” Stan rubbed his eyes. “Fine, but I’m coming with you.” 

“Yeah, whatever.” Kyle had already gotten out of bed and opened the bedroom door. 

“Ah, wait!” Stan tried to hurry after him, but fell off the bed instead. 

“Whoa, are you okay? Just stay in bed, I’ll be right back.” 

“Nono, I’m coming with you.” Stan scrambled up and shuffled over to the bathroom. “Here.” He filled the glass that the Broflovski’s kept by the sink with water and held it in front of Kyle’s mouth. 

“Uh, no. Give me that…” Kyle snatched it out of his hands and began quenching his thirst. 

“I hope he hurries so we can get back in bed.” 

Kyle finished the glass and put it back. “Okay, let’s go.” 

They got back in bed, unsure of how to proceed. “It was nice… Does he want to cuddle again?” 

Kyle answered Stan’s question by laying down on his side and opening his arms, allowing Stan to nestle in his shirt once more and sigh contently in response. 

Kyle got an idea. Should I? It’s a little risky. 

Hesitantly, he lifted his hand, then carefully rested it on top of Stan’s head. 

No reaction. 

Kyle started slowly stroking his soft, black locks. 

This time, Stan hummed happily.
“Oh, to be petted by Kyle forever…” 

Comfortable and warm, it didn’t take long for them to fall back asleep. 

~

The sounds of birds made their way through Kyle’s curtains. His nose tickled. Hm. Kyle took a whiff. Smells like Stan? ..Oh. Stan was snuggled into his arms even closer than before, and he must’ve rolled around during the night, because… they … were spooning. And Kyle seemed to have nuzzled his nose into Stan’s hair.
His face turned redder than his jewfro. It smelled way too nice. 

But before Kyle could spiral any further, the door burst open and Kenny walked in, still wearing his pajamas. Kyle jumped and pushed Stan off. That was not a discreet way of making it look like they hadn’t just been spooning. Stan rolled off the bed from the force, and landed with a thump. Luckily, the mattress had been there to break his fall. 

“Ah, what the fuck!” Stan exclaimed, awoken by the impact of landing. 

Kenny stared at them. 

Kyle stared back, trying to look as chill as possible. 

Kenny slowly raised one eyebrow. “Mind explaining, Broflovski?” 

“Uh..” Kyle rubbed the back of his head, hoping he looked confused, “Explain what?” 

Kenny’s face split into a massive, shit-eating grin. “I thought you were the one sleeping on the floor? ‘The guest can have the bed’, and whatnot?” 

Stan, who had been confusedly watching their conversation from the floor, suddenly realized why Kenny was nagging Kyle.
“Oh, fuck, think of an excuse…” 

Stan opened his mouth. “Kyle wanted his own bed back.” 

Kyle narrowed his eyes at him, shooting him a nasty look. That excuse made him look like an ass. 

Kenny was not convinced, which he expressed by putting his hands on his hips and tapping his foot on the floor impatiently. “Then how come you yelled when I walked in, Marsh?” 

Stan’s expression didn’t falter. “Had a nightmare.” 

Kenny glared at them for a few more seconds, then abruptly burst into a fit of laughter. 

Kyle and Stan shared a confused look over their friend’s sudden giggling.

“Come on, let’s go for breakfast.” Kenny chuckled.

~

During breakfast, Stan seemed to be pondering about something, but Kyle tried to ignore it, instead focusing on his toast. 

After breakfast, they went back upstairs to get ready for the day. Just like every morning, Kyle had locked himself in the bathroom and was frantically stressing over his hair. 

Stan’s thoughts were still busy fussing over something unrelated, in the bedroom. Anyway, Kyle had already washed his face and put on moisturizer, but that was the easy part. The hard part was trying to tame his bright red jewfro. He’d resorted to simply hitting his head with the hairbrush by now. 

Suddenly, Kyle heard abnormally panicked thoughts coming from the next room. 

“Oh my god, oh my god, what the fuck! What does this mean? How long? What!”
Stan’s voice.
“Oh, god, I can’t let Kyle know, fuck, just be normal Stan, what the fuck!” 

Oh, shit! Kyle respected all his friends’ privacy, and always tried to refrain from listening in on their private thoughts. And it really sounded like this in particular was something that was not meant for his ears. So, the redhead instantly rushed back in, startling Stan. 

“Hey, Stan!” 

“AH!” Stan full-on screamed. “What?!” 
His thoughts were panicking even more now. Trying not to listen to them, Kyle thought of a way to distract Stan. 

“Hey, Stan, look at this! D-uhhhhh….” Nope. He just kept saying ‘uhh’ with his mouth open, and it made him look like a goat. 

“Oh fuck, now he’s here, and I can’t, what the fuck, he could never know, just be normal!” 

Damn it, how did that not work? Kyle exercised his brain, trying to think of a better distraction. 

“Wait, Stan, what’s twelve times twelve?” 

Stan’s brain immediately stopped working. 

Nailed it. He’s so reliably stupid. 

“Boys! I know you just ate, but I made pancakes!” 

Oh thank god, saved by the Sheila. 

“Ooh!” They heard Kenny yell out from downstairs.

Kyle started for the door, but paused briefly to turn around and take a final glance at Stan, just to check if he was okay. He had no idea what his friend’s momentary freak-out could’ve possibly been about, but he’d gathered enough information to understand that it concerned him.

Stan seemed fine. A little startled, yes, but Kyle knew him well enough to know that it hadn’t been a disaster, whatever it was that Stan had lost his shit over. Which obviously was a massive relief to Kyle, because he couldn’t bear the thought of Stan having some shockingly-bad realization regarding him. 

Kyle nodded to the door. “You coming?” 

Stan hesitated for a second. Then, he smiled softly at him. “Yeah.” 

Chapter Text

The cafeteria was loud as always. Kyle tried not to wince when Stan nearly yelled in his ear to try and be heard over the noise.

“Why is Heidi Turner waving at you?”

Kyle waved back at the girl as he took a sip of his drink. “Because she’s my friend.”

It hadn’t been long since the incident — which is what Kyle had taken to calling Stan’s freak-out at the sleepover — and other than being a little more irritable, he hadn’t noticed much change in him. Stan’s thoughts were no different from before, as far as Kyle could tell. He did get upset more easily now, apparently.

“Since when?!” Stan frowned.

Kenny chimed in. “Dude, let Ky have other friends.”

Stan snapped his head forward to scoff at Kenny. “What? I’m just saying-“

The sound (and shaking of the table) of someone that must’ve been wearing a lot of bracelets slamming her hand down on the surface startled the four boys, cutting Stan off mid-sentence. Kyle looked up to find a girl with voluminous blonde curls as well as her usual loads and loads of jewelry glaring daggers at him. With one hand on her hip, the other still on the table, she looked rather intimidating, even to a powerful psychic like Kyle. 

“Alright, pretty boy,” Bebe said, “what did you do?”

“The fuck?” Cartman commented eloquently.

Ignoring him, Kyle tilted his head in mock innocence. “Whatever do you mean?”

Stan and Kenny were watching intently at the scenario before them.

Bebe visibly bit on her tongue out of annoyance. She frantically looked left, then right, scanning the cafeteria. Before Kyle could dig in to see how much of a risk he was in (she had a pop song stuck in her head) he felt bedazzled press-ons digging into his upper arm, grabbing him and dragging him up out of his seat. Kyle let her, enjoying the grounding feeling of her nails, and waited to be taken to a hallway out of sight of any students before he spoke.

“What’s up?” He smiled.

If looks could kill, Kyle Broflovski would have died at age seventeen, right then and there.

“You fucking know what! I know you fucked with my phone!” With every frantic, annoyed gesture Bebe made, her jewelry and accessories clinked together, making a nice jingle sound.

Kyle shrugged. “Maybe. You can’t prove that.”

Bebe ground her teeth together. “Listen, I don’t know what the fuck you think you’re doing, but-“

“I don’t fuck in cadillacs.”

Bebe gawked at him, completely dumbfounded. “What-“

“Yeah, pull over baby!” He began bobbing his head to the beat.

A slight frown made its way onto her face. “Where did you hear-“

“I don’t fuck in cadillacs!” Kyle was singing louder and louder now.

Bebe’s mouth fell open as realization dawned on her.

“I, I, I don’t think so!” He couldn’t resist smirking.

“No fucking way!” She screeched in horror.

“I don’t fuck in ca-“

“Alright, I get it, I get it!” Bebe sighed. “You can read my mind. That’s just great.”

“Yeah.” Kyle crossed his arms. “So just drop the whole video thing. Or I’m gonna take a nice little dig in your thoughts.”

She held up her hands in defeat. “Fine, fine.”

“And I’m gonna keep diggin’, and diggin’, and diggi-“

“I get it!” Though she’d already admitted defeat, Bebe hadn’t stopped glaring at him for a second. “Just… Don’t tell Wends.”

Kyle frowned. “What?”

Bebe slapped her hands in front of her mouth. “Shit, you didn’t know! Fuck!”

“What about Wendy?” Kyle prodded maliciously, knowing full well he could find it out himself if he wanted.

“Nothing!” Bebe flushed. “Look, I’ll leave you alone if you don’t go peeking in my thoughts, or whatever. But I know for a fact that Wendy is on your tail, dude. And I could tell her what I know.” She paused to give him a second to process. “So I’ll cut you a deal. I don’t tell anyone anything, not even Wends, but then you have to refrain from reading my mind as much as possible. Kay?” She stared at him  expectantly.

Kyle nodded. “Deal. I hate reading your mind anyway.” He held out his hand.

Bebe rolled her eyes, but shook it. “Deal.”

~

Back at the table, he was immediately bombarded with questions from his friends.

“What was that all about?” Stan asked. Under the table, Stan’s knee was knocking into his own.

“Was it…?” Kenny quirked an eyebrow. “About her phone?”

Kyle shot a cautious look at Cartman. “Yeah.”

Stan shoved a spoonful of yogurt into his mouth and sucked grumpily. “Dude, what is it with you and Bebe lately…”

Kyle frowned. “Uh, you already know?”

Stan rolled his eyes. “She’s just here an awful lot. Feels unnecessary.”

His frown deepened. “Dude, you literally-“ He stopped himself and glanced over at Cartman before leaning in closer to whisper, “You were literally there when I stole her phone.”

“Whatever.” Stan scoffed.

Kyle opened his mouth to say something, but was rudely interrupted by a weird snorting sound from across the table. He looked up to see Kenny shaking with laughter, a hand tightly clasped in front of his mouth to stifle his giggles.

“Sorry, sorry!” Kenny gasped for breath, “Continue!”

Stan kicked the blonde under the table. “Shut up, McCordick!”

Kenny wheezed with laughter, unable to get a single word out — so technically he did as he was told.

Stan turned back to Kyle. “Ignore him. What are you doing this evening?”

“Uh, nothing,” Kyle shrugged, “why?”

He was met with a wide grin. “So can you come over to mine, then?”

Cartman coughed loudly. 

“Sure. What’d you wanna do?” Kyle asked, ignoring Cartman as per usual.

“Mm, just hang out? Play games, maybe?”

He nodded. “Sounds good. Now eat your fruit.”

“Woof.”

Kyle nearly snapped his head around in confusion.

~

“Mom, I’m home!” Stan called out as they stepped into the hallway of the Marsh residence. “Kyle’s with me!”

“Okay, baby, have fun!” Sharon called out from somewhere in the house.

Stan led Kyle up to his bedroom, following routine, where they both dropped their bags on the floor. Stan walked over to his cheap tv set, grabbing two controllers from the tv table it was placed on, right across Stan’s bed. He threw one over to Kyle, who was already slumped down on the bed, and walked over to sit beside him.

“Right, what d’you wanna play?” Stan asked, watching him eagerly.

Kyle tapped his chin in thought. “Hmm, Mario Kart?” He felt a wide smirk spread across his face, knowing what was about to come.

“Ohh, you wanna try it, Broflovski?” Stan teased, leaning in closer. “Okay then.”

Kyle straightened his back and shifted to sit in an upright position, leaning slightly forward. Ready for battle. “Let’s do this, Marsh.”

“Kyle, I want you…”

He frowned, but didn’t turn around. You want me to what? Although he waited for Stan to finish his thought, the other boy never seemed to do so. Kyle mentally shrugged. Must’ve forgotten what he was thinking. Happens all the time.

He didn’t have any longer to dwell on it, however, because the first race was starting on the screen.

~

“And Broflovski wins again! Suck it, Marsh!” Kyle triumphantly threw his controller down on the bed and shot his hands in the air, cheering.

“Yeah, whatever! I let you win!” Stan shot back, crossing his arms and comically pouting.

“Aww, don’t be sad, Marsh! C’mon, one more round, I’ll go easy on you.” Kyle winked.

“Holy shit.” Stan glared at him. “Do you really think I’d fall for that? I don’t believe you for a second. I know all your tricks, Broflovski!”

Kyle leaned in, entering Stan’s personal space and raising an eyebrow. “Hmm, is that so, Marsh? Are you a little detective?”

“Shit, shit, holy shit.” Stan blinked, startled by their sudden proximity. “Alright, don’t let it get to your head, genius.” He mumbled, not meeting Kyle’s eye.

“Maybe one day you’ll best me, eh?” Kyle smirked, not backing down until he was shoved away by the other boy.

“How dare you!” Stan huffed. “I’ll have you know I could beat you whenever I want to!”

“Yeah, sure.” Kyle smirked, chuckling a little. “It’s cute that you think that.”

“Oh, god, cute?!” Stan seemed personally insulted by this, exaggeratedly scoffing and holding a hand over his heart in mock offense. “How dare you!” He repeated. “I totally could beat you.”

“Yeah, right.”

“Could so!”

“Could not.”

“Could so!”

“Could no- hey!” Kyle was tackled and fell back into the bed, suddenly straddled by Stan, who had climbed atop him and was now trying to suffocate him with a pillow. “Gerroff!” Kyle yelled out, voice muffled by the pillow. He tried to hit Stan blindly, but had to be careful not to reflexively hurt him with his powers.

“Not unless you take that back, Broflosvki!”

“Urgh!” Kyle’s legs kicked helplessly. “Never!”

Stan scoffed at that, diving down to begin tickling him as a way of further revenge. “Admit it! I don’t suck at Mario Kart!”

Kyle laughed uncontrollably — being a psychic unfortunately did not prevent him from being ticklish. “Wait-“ He wheezed out.

“Well?” Stan cruelly began tickling his belly now.

“Fine, fine!” Kyle choked out. “You don’t totally suck at Mario Kart!”

Satisfied, Stan stopped his attack. He waited for Kyle to catch his breath, busying himself with the redhead’s curls.

“What are you doing?” Kyle puffed.

“You had something in your hair.” Stan shrugged.

“Oh.”

Kyle was still panting a bit, looking up at the ceiling with one arm thrown above his head. Stan still hadn’t moved. He snapped his gaze away from the ceiling and looked down, frowning at Stan. “Dude, get off me.”

“Right. Sorry.” Stan climbed off him, unbothered.

A few moments passed as they lay there, both staring up at the ceiling and being content with doing and saying absolutely nothing. Then, Stan broke the silence.

“You wanna bite?” “Me, please?”

Confused, Kyle propped himself up on his elbows, frowning. “What?”

“Do you want a bite?” Stan repeated. “A snack?”

“Oh. Yeah, sure.”

Stan was already hauling himself up. “Sugar-free M&M’s?”

“Yeah, great. But you know I can’t have too many! Don’t come back here with, like, a whole popcorn bowl full or something.”

“Yeah, I know.” Stan nodded, then hurried off to go get the snacks, like a host trying very hard to satisfy his guests.

Kyle chuckled to himself. Like a fucking puppy. He leaned back against the pillows, letting his laughter fade. From the corner of his eye, he didn’t notice Stan sneaking a glance on his way out — at the way Kyle’s curls bounced when he laughed, at the curl of his smile.

Chapter Text

09:06. Biology class had just begun. 

The teacher had gone around the class, handing out work sheets for later, but Kyle was already scribbling down the answers for as many questions as he could.

Less homework later. He had to make sure to still pay attention to the board, however; their teacher was giving crucial information for upcoming tests. 

Given as he was in their usual seats, unfortunately, a very energetic Stan Marsh was sitting next to him, neither doing his work nor taking notes of the presentation. Instead, the boy had seemingly decided to spend the entire class distracting Kyle. 

“Heh, Ky, look, pen mustache!” He was balancing a pen between his upper lip and his nose by making a duck face. 

“Come on, Stan. You need to focus up!” 

“Fine, mom.” Stan shot him a daring look, to which Kyle responded with a single raised eyebrow. Stan immediately lowered his head and avoided Kyle’s gaze. 

“That’s what I thought.” Kyle said smugly as he took out his water bottle. 

Stan looked back up. “His lips are so pretty…”

Don’t be gay, Stan. Kyle took a sip. 

“I bet they’d look even prettier wrapped around my dick.” 

Kyle choked on his water and started coughing. 

Stan frowned. “Dude, are you oka-” 

“I’m fine!” Kyle cut him off, his voice abnormally loud and weirdly hoarse. 

What the fuck. What the fuck? What the fuck! What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck- 

“Ugh, come on, Stan, you can’t think about that stuff in school. You’re so disgusting. Alright, I need to pay attention.” 

What the fuck??? What the fuck. 
Kyle’s brain had short-circuited. 
What the fuck does this mean? Oh my god, Stan’s gay? For me? What the fuck? 

And now his face was slowly turning red as a radish. Just great.
He wants me to suck his dick? That has to mean he’s gay for me, right? Oh my god, that actually explains so much. So many incidents. So many thoughts! How did I not realize? What the fuck.

“Seriously, Ky, you’re turning red.” 

“I’m not being weird!” Kyle squeaked out. 

“Are you hot?” 

To you, yeah, apparently! “I told you, I’m fine!” 

“Do you have a temperature? Wait, let’s cool you off-“ Stan took his water bottle and let a few waterdrops fall on his hand, then he reached for Kyle’s face. But the second Stan’s wet fingers touched his tomato-tinted cheeks, Kyle maneuvered away, not smoothly. 

“Dude, hold still!” Stan attempted to cool off Kyle’s forehead. 

“Stan, I’m fine, stop!” Kyle giggled and ducked away again. 

“Broflovski, Marsh, anything you want to share with the class?” 

They looked up to see the whole class, including their teacher, staring at them. 

“No, sir.” Kyle said in a small voice. Stan looked down at his lap and shook his head. 

“Good.” The teacher paused for a moment to give them a pointed look. “Now, if you look here, you’ll see that the mitochondria actually…” 

They looked at each other again, smirking like little kids. Stan rolled his eyes and pointed to their teacher when said teacher wasn’t looking, then made an obscene gesture. “This guy…” 

They burst into silent giggles. 

The class droned on. And Kyle was focusing. 

Stan moved his elbow and accidentally bumped it into his own. 

Okay, fine, he wasn’t focusing at all. Every breath, every blink, every shift Stan made, Kyle followed them all, tracking his every move like a hawk. He couldn’t help himself. 

Stan must’ve felt eyes boring into the side of his skull, because he looked up from his work to meet his eye. His blue eyes crinkled as he smiled at him and wiggled his eyebrows. “Thought you said we needed to focus?” 

Kyle blinked. “Right, sorry. I, uh, zoned out.” 

Stan winked (oh my GOD) and poked his arm. “Yeah? Whatcha thinking about?” 

Not you. You. “About how I don’t wanna go to detention today.” 

A chuckle. “Hm. Maybe you shouldn’t’ve punched Cartman, then.” 

Kyle scoffed. “Shut up!” 

Stan laughed again, gaze lingering a little too long even though they both knew he was supposed to turn back to his work now. 
“God, I just want to kiss him. Just once. That’s all I need. Then I can die fulfilled. Ew, wait, no, don’t be corny! And gross, gross. Wrong. Stop it, Stan.” 

Kyle’s pen snapped in half between his fingers. Ink blotched onto his notes. 

“Uh, Kyle?” 

He wants to KISS me too? Oh my god oh my god oh my god. That’s… that’s worse. Or better? Or worse? FUCK. 

“Kyle? You broke your pen, dude.” “Looking at me. Could that mean anything?” 

COULD IT?? Fuck. “Right. Sorry.” He repeated dumbly. 

“Little aggressive, hm?” Stan smirked at him. 

Why is he smiling like that? Oh god, is that a flirty smile? No — it’s just Stan. He always smirks at me. Except now I know he wants to- Shut up brain shut up brain shut up brain. 

Stan leaned his chin into his hand (fuck me), doodling lazily in the margin of his notebook. His pen scribbles turned into loops and lines. Kyle couldn’t help but glance over subtly. 

Are those… are those supposed to be hearts? No. No way. That’s just- no, that’s not a heart. That’s, like… a deformed potato. Yeah. Totally a potato. 

Oh, god, who am I kidding? Of course it’s not a fucking potato. Kyle covered his face with his hands, stifling a groan. When did this happen?? 

He dropped his hands. Oh. Oh, fuck. The incident. Oh, god.
And everything clicked into place.

~

15:34. 

“KENNY! Help!” 

After spending the rest of the day freaking out and noticing every single thing Stan did, even things as infinitesimal as blinking out of rhythm, Kyle had went home in a daze and had immediately went to his room to sit down on his bed. He’d then proceeded to stare into the abyss for half an hour. 

Then, he finally came to no conclusion whatsoever, except that he needed help. 

And who better to ask than a gossiping, horny, everything-sexual player who got no bitches and made a dirty joke at every opportunity he got, no matter how extremely inappropriate it might be? 

Static came from the other end of the line, before Kenny’s crackly voice responded, “Are you dying?” 

“No. Worse.” 

He heard more static, then some shuffling which he assumed was Kenny sitting upright. “What did you do? No, scratch that. Who did you do?” 

Kyle was glad Kenny couldn’t see his reddened face. “What? No! Nothing like that… Yet…” He mumbled the last word. 

The line crackled. “What?” 

“Nothing.” He shifted on his bed. “I just… I don’t know where to begin.” 

“Ah. Right. Was he drunk?”

Kyle frowned, more out of habit than anything. “What?” 

“Stan. Was he drunk?” Another crackle. 

“What are you talking about?” 

“Stan didn’t confess his undying love for you after he had a little too much to drink? Damn. Guessed that one wrong.” 

Kyle opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again. “Not… exactly. He… Wasn’t drunk, but he also didn’t confess. To my face, at least. I… Can’t really explain. But I need your help.” 

“I’m coming over.” 

Kyle sat up. “What? Ken, you don’t have to-“ 

“Be there in five! Mwah!” 

He opened his mouth to protest again, but Kenny had already hung up.

~

As soon as he recognized Kenny’s thoughts in the hundred fifty-foot radius, Kyle had run downstairs and impatiently waited by the front door until it rang, hopping from one foot to another. 

He opened the door and immediately gave Kenny his most pleading facial expression, which made the blonde laugh heartily. 

“Damn, Broflovski, you’ve got it bad, huh?” 

“Kenny, you’re my fucking savior.” 

He was smirked at for that. “Alright, keep it in your pants.” 

Not bothering to scold him for the crude joke, Kyle grabbed Kenny by his arm and dragged him upstairs, where he planted the other down on his bed and threw himself down next to him, face-first. 

“So,” Kenny slapped his hands flat on his thighs, “what did he do, if not drunkenly confess, that has our precious ginger so distraught?” 

“Shut up. ‘M not ginger.” He mumbled, voice slightly muffled due to his face being half-smushed into his bed. 

From the corner of his eye, he saw Kenny shrug. “Redhead, daywalker, ginger. Same thing. Now tell me what happened.” 

Kyle groaned, but didn’t say anything. He was still lying on the bed with his face down on the sheets and his arms spread out. 

Kenny nudged him, and then, when he just got another groan instead of an answer, shoved him. “Come onnn. Don’t edge me like this.” 

“Kenny!” Kyle scoffed, rolling over onto his back. Still, he wouldn’t meet Kenny’s eye, choosing to stare up at the ceiling instead. He sighed. “Fine. I may or may not have found out that Stan kind of has feelings for me.” 

Kenny raised an eyebrow. “‘Kind of’? You said he was sober, right?” 

“Okay, he totally completely one hundred percent wants to fuck and kiss me.” 

Kenny sucked in a sharp breath. “Wow.” He whistled. “Geez.” 

“Yeah.” 

They stayed silent for a minute, Kenny reminiscing (and very much failing trying not to think about how Craig now owed him five bucks) and Kyle staring up blankly at the ceiling, rethinking his entire lifelong relationship with Stan. 

Kenny turned to look at him. “Do you…” 

Kyle threw his hands up in the air. “I don’t know! I don’t know.” I- Do I? 

“Alright, sorry, sorry.” 

Kyle sat up quickly, looking into Kenny’s eyes in a plea, puzzled. “Do I?” 

Kenny raised his eyebrows. “How should I know?” 

He rolled his eyes. “No, I mean- How do I know? If I… do?” 

Kenny thought for a second, scratching his nose. “I think you just… Basically, you think about doing things that are in no way platonic with Stan, right? And then you take note of how that makes you feel. Does that make sense?” 

Kyle frowned a little, cocking his head. 

Kenny sighed. “Like… Imagine you go to the movies with Stan. Just the two of you, in the dark, in the back row. Does that make you nervous?” 

Kyle shifted, touching his fingertips together repeatedly. “Only a bit. I mean, it’s pretty normal for us.”

Kenny nodded. “Okay. Now imagine it's an established date.” He paused to observe Kyle’s reaction, which was to chew his lip in thought. 

“I don’t know,” he said, stopping the lip-chewing to speak, “I don’t think it feels like anything far out of the ordinary.” 

Kenny wiggled his eyebrows. “Yeah? You spend a lot of time alone with Stan in the dark?” 

Kyle picked up a nearby pillow and threw it at him. “Shut up. This isn’t working.” 

“Hey,” Kenny scoffed, “you were the one to ask me for help! Now listen, I’m not done yet.” 

“Fine, fine.” He leaned his back against the headboard, crossing his legs. “Continue.” 

“Okay.” Kenny smirked. “Now imagine Stan kisses you, there, in the back of the cinema. On the lips.” 

Kyle moved a hand up to his face to hold it in front of his mouth, pretending he put it there absentmindedly while in thought, when really he had to hide the smile that crept up at the idea. “Okay.” 

Kenny wiggled a little out of excitement, nudging him. “Yeah? And? Should I go on?” 

“‘Go on’? What else could you need to add?” 

Another wiggle of eyebrows. “Say it gets a little steamy. Like, open-mouthed. The cinema is empty, so he crawls into your lap. Or you into his, whatever tickles your fancy.” 

Kyle dropped his face into his hands and groaned. “Oh my god, Kenny!” 

Kenny snorted, poking his leg. “And the kisses go down to your jaw, then your neck, then your collarbone, th-“ 

“Okay, that’s enough!” Kyle threw another pillow at him harshly, with so much force that Kenny almost toppled over. “Asshole.” 

The ‘asshole’ laughed loudly. “What? Didn’t like the little picture I painted for you?” 

“Didn’t appreciate it, no.” He grunted, shifting to pull his knees up to his chin. 

“Really? Because you’re looking quite red there, Broflovski.” Kenny cocked an eyebrow, still smirking. 

“Shut up.” 

“Hot and bothered, are we?” 

“Shut up before I throw another pillow at you!” Kyle hissed, indeed red-faced. 

“Fine, fine!” Kenny held his hands up in surrender. “But come on. Based on your reaction, you have to admit, you probably aren’t exactly disgusted with the idea.” 

He sighed. “Yeah.” 

Kenny moved a little closer to rub soothing circles on his shoulder, and they were quiet for a bit. Kyle’s mind was working overtime. 

Then, Kenny asked, “So in what way? Like, do you just want to bone him-” (“Kenny!”) “-or is it a crush, or…” 

Kyle shrugged. “I think… It’s-“ He struggled to find the right words. “It’s not very different, now.” 

Kenny looked into his eyes, saying more than any thoughts or words ever could.

Oh. Right. 

And then Kyle knew. 

He supposed he’d always kind of known. He’d get pin-prick moments of impulses, under-the-surface feelings. Not even really thoughts, not intentions, just.. impulses. They’d always been there, hidden inside of him, behind all his layers of skin, through his bones, flowing in his blood, all the way from his head to his heart to the tips of his fingers.

Kyle Broflovski was in love with Stan Marsh. 

Oh, well, fuck. 

Chapter Text

Of course, there was a lot that Kyle still didn’t know.

When had it all begun? A month? A year? Or had it secretly always been this way? And what about Stan? He’d realized that night of the sleepover, but how long had he gone unaware?

And would Stan try to make a move, or bottle it all up? Should Kyle make the first move? He could kiss him. God, he wanted to kiss him.

And what if Stan rejected him? Maybe he didn’t want to ruin their friendship. And what if they did ruin their friendship? And what would people think? What would people say? What would people do?

And was Kyle gay? Bi? Or whatever else there is?

And. And, and.

And Stan.

Just. Just Stan.

It seemed it had just gotten worse. It seemed he would never stop falling more and more in love with Stan Marsh every passing minute. And that was pretty fucking terrifying.

He hadn’t faced Stan, yet. Not since the day before. He wasn’t sure how he would even go about it — how do you behave around your same-sex childhood best friend whom you recently found out has feelings for you? Whom you’re very, very much in love with?

God, it had all went so fast. It’d washed over him like a wave; I’m in love with Stan. A boy. My best friend.

Of course, he wasn’t feeling only confusion and shock. Naturally, he’d also felt love, love for Stan, like he always had. It was just more… recognizable as what it truly was, now. And, being a teenage boy, he’d felt more. Barely fifteen minutes after Kenny left, he’d already had to take care of the tightness in his pants.

Kyle sighed. He’d been sitting at the bus stop, waiting until it arrived, and had gotten lost in thought. He started two periods later than the others that day, and had initially planned on using the travel time to revise for chemistry.

He’d done nothing of the sorts. But the boy was distressed. Give him a break.

The familiar sound of wheels crunching on gravel caught his attention. He stood, stretching (his neck hurt), and got on the bus as soon as the doors opened. He nodded to miss Crabtree and made his way to the far back of the bus, where it was most empty.

Well. It usually was, anyway.

“Oh. Hey, dude.” He greeted.

Craig looked up lazily. As soon as he saw Kyle — “Ah, look who it is!” — his face split into an amused grin, which was very out of character for him. “Why, hel-lo, Broflovski.”

Kyle frowned, hesitant to sit down. “What’s up with you?”

Still smirking as though he were witnessing the greatest comedy show ever given, Craig tapped the seat next to him, indicating he sit down. Nervously, Kyle complied.

He tucked a curl behind his ear. “Seriously, man, you’re scaring me.”

Normally, he would dig in, but it was Craig. And he was rather scared of Craig’s inner thoughts. He was not about to make the mistake of entering guinea pig-land again.

“Oh, nothing. Just,” Craig shrugged, still smiling, “McCormick asked me for five bucks last night. Texted ‘bout it.” “Mu heh heh heh.”

Kyle frowned again, scared for whatever it was that was about to come. Still, he couldn’t resist throwing a shitload of sarcasm into the conversation. “Yeah? Kenny begging for money? Wow, that’s gotta be — oh, fuck!” He clapped a hand over his mouth (comically, if the way Craig had snorted was anything to go by), sitting up in shock. “Ohh, no no no no-“

“Relax.” Craig would’ve put a hand on his shoulder right about now, if he was less of an asocial asshole. “I don’t really care. I’m just making sure that bum wasn’t lying.”

Kyle snapped his head around, offended. “Ken told you?!”

“No.” Craig deadpanned, staring blankly in his direction. “But he asked for five bucks, and I’m not stupid.”

“Oh. Right.” He looked back ahead, feeling a little confused still.

Neither bothered to speak for a bit, content to just look out the window as the bus hobbled to the school.

“So now that you know, how did you and Tweek-“

“Don’t do that.”

“Yup.”

~

Too many secrets. It was just too many secrets!

He had, what, three major ones now? Firstly, he was fucking abnormal, a ‘psychic’ as they say, and then he got the whole thing with Wendy, Heidi, and Bebe — since when did he even know so many girls?!

He’d knocked out some dudes and then had to lie and deceive a very nice girl. He’d been blackmailed over shoes. He’d broken into the fucking school, not that that was a big deal, he’d broken into buildings before, but then he’d made a deal with fucking Bebe to not tell Wendy the other’s secret.

And now? He was a — you know what. And god fucking- he just had to pick Stan, of all people?

Oh, great. Speak of the devil.

“Hey, Ky!”

Yup. There Stan was, all of a sudden, walking through the hallway, making his way to Kyle’s locker, making his way to Kyle.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

“Uh, hey, Stan.” God, it was pathetic how hard he was trying to keep his composure. Not for the first time, he thanked whatever god(s) might be out there that mind-reading wasn’t something others were capable of.

“What class you got?” “Pretty, pretty, so pretty!”

I already can’t take this, fuck- “Uh, just French.”

“Stop thinking about him, Stan!” “Great! I’ll walk you.”

“What? Why?” Sure, it’s in room 079.

“Huh? Why not?” “Was that too far?! Am I being obvious? Stupid, Stan…”

Shit, shit! Mixed up! This is so confusing! “Nothing, sorry, sorry.” He rushed the words out. “It’s uh, in room 079.” Block his thoughts out like you used to! Come on.

“Can I hold your hand on the way? No! Stop!” “Okay!”

“Yeah.” GO ON. WALK.

“Oh, shit!” “Let’s go, then?”

“Yeah, alright.” Why am I being rude now?!? This is not the way to go about this! FUCK!

Kyle began to walk, away from the awkward tension that had built up by his locker.

Stan jogged a bit to catch up with him, then stayed near his side. They didn’t need to speak, so it could’ve just been a normal, friendly walk. But of course, Stan had other plans.

“So fucking pretty, don’t stare. Don’t stare, you’re being gross.”

Gross? How? What’s wrong with you?

“Ugh! You promised yourself you weren’t going to be weird about it! This is Kyle. Get over yourself!”

Are you still talking to yourself? After all these years? Some things really don’t change, I guess.

“Now just accept it; you’re a queer. And that’s okay! You said it yourself!”

Hold on. What?

They were about halfway to his class, now, and Kyle was walking only on instinct. He was lucky the route was already engraved into his mind, or else he would’ve gotten lost, as distracted as he was.

“Ugh! What’s wrong with me?! Why can’t I…” He would’ve missed the subtle glance Stan shot him, had he not been so engulfed by the boy. “..stop fucking pining, ohhh my god. Fuck me, he’s so pretty.”

Oops. Kyle hadn’t noticed the sudden change in atmosphere forming and it took him by surprise. Quickly, he glanced to the side to hide the blush that’d crept up.

“Mhm. Wow.”

Okay, that’s enough! He almost sighed in relief when he saw the open door of classroom 079.

“We’re here.”

“Yeah.” Stan nodded. “No, please don’t go! Nooo!” Apparently he had a secret flair for the dramatic.

“So, um.” Kyle hesitated. “See you after school, maybe? If you wanna hang out?” He wasn’t sure how much more of hearing this he could take, but he just really, really wanted to see Stan.

“YES! YES! YES! PLEASE, YES!” Stan thought. “Sure, that’s cool.” Stan said.

“So, uh, see you!” Kyle gave an awkward smile, anxious to stop hearing all of that.

“Yeah! Bye!” Stan waved and grinned at him, then turned around, off to his own lessons.

Quickly, Kyle went into the classroom.

~

Great. Great, great! Just great. Stan can hardly even face his own feelings. Hates them. He probably thinks he’s a fag. That’s great.

If Kyle had been a cartoon character, his eye would’ve comically twitched right about now.

That’s fine.

He was sitting in class, at a desk in the far back, next to a window. Ms. Dubois was chattering in French, but he wasn’t even trying to understand any of it.

It’s fine. I’ll just… wait for him to get over himself. I don’t know. Wait for him to make a move. Yeah. I can do that.

…

I can wait.

He glanced at the clock impatiently for the third time in the last half hour.

UGH!

~

Finally, the last bell rang. Students spilled out into the hallways, all of them eager to go home. There weren’t many kids left in the school; Kyle had just finished another detention, and it was late.

Stan had waited for him. They didn’t speak much when they greeted one another, only engaging in friendly conversation about this, and this, and this, bla bla bla.

He followed Stan to a bench not too far away from the school, where they both sat down and dumped their bags by their feet. The bench was overshadowed by a large tree, an oak or something. And they talked, like they always did. Like they always had.

He’d been busy trying not to listen to adoring thoughts or stare at that pretty face, when he suddenly realized Stan had asked him something. Smiling and nodding wasn’t going to cut it, this time.

Kyle shook his head very lightly and blinked. “Sorry?”

“You’re so cute.” The other boy smiled at him warmly. “I never asked your favorite color. Like, ever. Isn’t that crazy?”

“Blue.” He didn’t hesitate.

“Really? I always thought it was green or orange.” Stan nodded nonetheless. “What kind of blue? Like, light blue, or teal, or dark blue?”

Kyle thought. Stan, Stan.

“A very specific kind.”

Stan frowned. “Okay, mysterious.” He laughed. Kyle loved that laugh, and pathetically wished he would always be the one to make Stan laugh like that.

I’ll wait for him.

Chapter Text

Friday, 09:17. Biology class.

“God, fuck me.”

Waiting for Stan would have been fine, perfectly doable in fact, if Stan Marsh’s thoughts weren’t so goddamn loud. And for once, non-stop, too. 

You see, it’s very hard to concentrate on your biology work when someone keeps thinking rather inappropriate things about you, and you can’t quite seem to manage blocking out their thoughts. 

“How can a human being be this fucking pretty, and cute, and attractive, and handsome, and fine, too?” 

Kyle felt like he was running a fever. 

But. He might have had found a way to get back at Stan — not that Stan had any idea what he was doing to him, but still. 

There are many ways to make Stan Marsh’s brain short-circuit. And Kyle had made it his mission to come up with as many as he could. 

He would lean in closer when Stan was saying something dense, for example, and whisper “oh, is that so?” or “oh, really?”.

He would hear Stan’s thoughts approaching the room while he was changing and intentionally refrain from warning him, just to see the look on his face after walking in on him shirtless. 

He would even dare to say “make me” when Stan jokingly told him to shut up. 

In fact, he decided, why not try one now? 

Carefully, subtly, he put his pen down and leaned back in his chair. Then, Kyle stretched, making sure to let out a very quiet little groan after, so quiet that only Stan could hear, so quiet that it could easily be written off as accidental. 

“Oh. Fuck.” 

Exactly as he’d intended, Stan had noticed. 

He glanced over subtly, not wanting to go too far in messing with him (so far that he could have turned to Stan to ‘ask him a question about the class’, now). But he decided against cornering him like that. Instead, Kyle watched from the corner of his eye as Stan’s face turned bright red. Serves him right, and it’s very nice to look at. 

He’d been thinking of fessing up about the whole Stan situation to one of the girls, but ultimately decided against it. Wendy knew too much already, Heidi he didn’t know just well enough, and Bebe, though she could probably relate (he suspected), was hardly even an option. 

Of course, he could’ve always told Kenny, but he liked keeping it a secret for now. Their little thing. 

Well, nice things never last. 

It happened on a Friday afternoon, after detention.

The bell had just rung and Kyle was packing up his stuff, blasting music in his earbuds. The classroom was empty; the substitute didn’t seem to care enough to stick around even a second after the last bell rang, and he hadn’t seen Craig or Cartman today. Maybe they finished their hours, maybe they were just skipping. It didn’t matter anyway. 

As he zipped his pencil case shut, Kyle bobbed his head to the beat of the song playing, when he suddenly felt something on his shoulder. In a reflex, he spun around and locked his eyes on the culprit, almost snapping their arm in two. Almost. 

When he saw it was just Stan, he let out a sigh of relief and pulled his earbuds out. Thank god. He couldn’t imagine what would’ve happened, had he not stopped himself in time. He didn’t want to imagine. 

(Sometimes, at night, alone in the dark, he couldn’t stop imagining.)

“Dude, are you okay? You look… strange.” Stan frowned. He’d walked in unheard because of Kyle’s earbuds. Normal people wouldn’t have jumped like Kyle had. Normal people were used to being startled, or touched unexpectedly. He really needed to work on that. 

Kyle blinked. “Yeah.” He forced himself to look Stan in the eye. “Yeah, I’m fine. You just scared me, that’s all.” 

“Oh.” 

Stan’s hair looked nice today. He wanted to reach out and touch it so badly. Is it still as soft as it looks? It used to look so greasy. He was glad Stan finally had enough energy to care for himself. He would’ve done it, had Stan ever asked. But normal boys don’t do that he never did. 

As the silence that had fallen upon them grew thicker and thicker, Kyle’s eyes darted around Stan’s face, taking him in. He could feel Stan doing the same. 

“His freckles are so pretty. I wonder how many he has. I wonder if he’d let me count them? I could connect them, too, with a sharpie. Then he’d have a constellation face. That’d be nice.”

Not bearing to hear it (as he’d promised not to do anything about it until Stan did), Kyle made some sort of awkward half-gesture. “What are you doing here?” 

“Wanted to pick you up, you know, so we could walk home together.” He seemed so casual about everything. It was kind of funny to watch Stan act all normal and cool and then hear him scream-think how much he liked Kyle’s voice two seconds later. 

“Oh.” He stared at Stan, fiddling with the string of his earbuds. They were standing in the middle of the classroom still, amidst the desks. Stan stared back, seemingly chewing on the inside of his cheek. It was unsettlingly quiet. Something was about to happen, he could feel it. The air was thick, practically buzzing with electricity. 

Suddenly, Kyle remembered his abandoned book bag. He turned back to his desk, away from Stan, and began to attend to his things again, stuffing them in said bag. It was really only a temporary distraction, a pastime, but Stan apparently deemed it a difficult task that Kyle needed help with. He stepped forward, positioning himself next to Kyle, and helped him pack up.
When they both reached for Kyle’s pocket-sized calendar, their fingers brushed, and neither pulled away. Kyle sucked in a sharp breath through his nose.

“Sorry, I got it.” Stan muttered.

“It’s fine, but thanks.” Kyle whispered back. He picked it up and put it in his bag, then zipped the bag shut. The calendar had been the last item. Now there was nothing for them to turn to. 

They had to face each other. 

“Look at me, please, I want to see your eyes.” 

Kyle looked aside to Stan from the corner of his eye first, then gathered more courage and turned his head, then finally his whole body. 

“Hi.” He whispered. 

He was sure both of them could feel the shocks everywhere, now. The pure electricity in the air, waiting for a spark so it could explode. 

“Hi.” Stan whispered back, turning his body to face Kyle. 

He stared and stared. They were standing close, impossibly close. There was no excuse for it; if anyone could see them now, they’d surely know. From this distance, Kyle could see something in Stan’s eyes. Longing. He wouldn’t have known if it weren’t for his abilities, but it was there, so clearly. 

He wanted to say something, but didn’t. Maybe he should have. 

“God, just kiss me, please, I need you to kiss me.”

He would have kept his promise. Really, he would have. But he could never deny Stan anything.
He might never know what came over him in that moment. It was all just too much and he grabbed the back of the other boy’s neck and pulled him forward, pressing his lips soft against Stan’s. It was terrifying – and amazing. He left a single sweetly lingering kiss. 

Slowly, he pulled away, looking Stan in the eye carefully. Was he ready? 

His question was quickly answered when Stan gripped him by the waist and pulled him in again, kissing him back, opening his lips and allowing Kyle to slide his tongue inside. It was all at once startling, incredible, and familiar. He couldn't think – as if every transmitter in his brain had short circuited at once, fizzing and popping; sending off sparks. Yes, was the only coherent thought he had; yes yes yes yes. 

Kyle forced himself to break the kiss for a second to murmur into Stan’s mouth. “Are you sure you’re ready?” 

“Mhm.” Stan hummed back before pressing his lips to Kyle’s again, kissing and kissing him.
Kyle felt himself being pulled closer when Stan suddenly began moving them, stumbling to the wall to press him up against it, almost clashing into a random desk on their way. 

Kyle wasn’t having it and flipped them around to push Stan into the wall instead, sneaking his fingers up under Stan’s shirt, who carded his fingers through Kyle’s curls in response. Before he knew it, Stan was letting soft little noises slip from his lips as they kissed. 

Suddenly, Kyle’s fiery red curls were being pulled lightly, and he made a noise in the back of  his throat which he’d never admit was a stifled groan, when – 

“Sorry it took so long! I found a vending machi-”

Kyle pulled away quicker than he should’ve and almost shoved Stan hard into the wall. 

“What… were you guys doing?” Kenny frowned, but couldn’t hide his smirk. 

“Being normal! What?” Kyle squealed out. 

“Not making out! Why?” Stan squeaked out. 

Kenny clearly wasn’t buying any of it, but he didn’t say anything. He just smirked.
“Okay…”, he wiggled his eyebrows, “I wanted to ask if you guys wanted a snack and then walk home together, but nevermind. I’ll just go my own way and leave you two lovebirds to it.” 

Both their faces heated up, but Kenny awaited no response nor retaliation as he turned and walked right back out the door. “Psh. I did say to call me when they stuck their tongues down each other’s throats. Assholes.” 

You’re the asshole! Always interrupting. But then again, they did have Kenny to thank for knocking some sense into them everytime they were being blind and oblivious and just needed to wake up and bone. Metaphorically speaking. 

Kyle turned to Stan, disheveled. “Why didn’t you say Kenny was waiting with you?” He whisper-yelled. He assumed Stan knew, but wouldn’t he have heard him think it, then? 

Stan dumbly scratched the back of his head. “I kind of… forgot.” “You’re just so mesmerizing.” 

Kyle grinned and wiggled his eyebrows at that, earning a shove and a ‘shut up!’ from Stan (to which he totally did not reply ‘make me’ again) (okay, he did, but Stan complied, so he did not regret it).

Thank you. You are, too. 

That Friday evening, two boys were seen walking home together, one with a green hat and one with black hair. Some of the neighborhood kids swore they were holding hands, but Craig and Tweek never took the route these boys were spotted on. 

***

09:43. Saturday morning. 

Kyle rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and rolled over to reach for his phone on the wooden nightstand. A  little bit of sunlight peeped through the curtains, but his room remained very dark. The screen lit up his face as he read his messages. 

stannn
can i come over and we can play games
<3

Kyle smiled at the feeble attempt of asking him on a date. 

You
yeah :)

His heart skipped a beat when he saw the three dots pop up almost instantly. 

stannn
be there in 10 

Shit, in ten minutes? He put his phone down and jumped up to run to the bathroom. 

~

When he heard the doorbell ring, Kyle rushed down the stairs to open the front door. He tried smoothing down his shirt, but it was an old band tee from the chair in his room, the first thing he could find. He hoped sweatpants would be fine, because he refused to wear jeans inside. 

He swung open the door giddily, actually using his hands for once. 

“Hi.” Stan smiled. 
He had to admit, he’d been looking forward to talking with Stan again, especially after the recent developments. 

“Hi.” Kyle replied, breathless. Seeing Stan smile had knocked the air out of his lungs. God, I’m cheesy. 

Stan gently stepped forward and, after checking to see if the coast was clear, gave him a quick sweet kiss. “Missed you.” Well, Stan was just as cheesy, so they were the perfect match.
“Do you want to hang out on the couch or in your room?” Stan asked innocently. 

Kyle grinned at him. “In my room, but don’t expect anything, Marsh.” He reached out to close the front door behind Stan as he flicked the boy on his forehead lightly. 

Stan grinned back cheekily and followed him up the stairs. 

~

They were lying curled up on Kyle’s bed, the gaming console long abandoned. Stan had turned his playlist on and it was playing softly, but clearly. He hummed along to most songs, but quietly sang some if he dared.
He’d buried his head into Kyle’s shirt again, lying atop him, but intentionally this time. Kyle had decided to busy his hands by carding them through Stan’s hair. The boy had been washing it more, finally happy enough to actually get up off his ass and tend to his hygiene. Kyle secretly congratulated himself, too, for the nice job he’d done on dying it. Every now and then, he’d braid a few strands together, but it didn’t look cool or anything – it just looked silly. He chuckled at the thought of putting Stan’s hair in two pigtails, like a little cartoon girl. 

“What’s so funny?” Stan looked up groggily. 

“Just thinking about you with pigtails.” He grinned. 

“Psh.” Stan scoffed, but leaned up to kiss him on the nose anyway. “Think about me all the time.”

“Hmm.” Kyle hummed, smiling. He watched as Stan squished his face into his shirt again. 

He twirled one of Stan’s locks on his finger. Like mine.
“And I swear that I don’t have a gun…” Kyle murmured along to the song. “No, I don’t have a gun…”

Stan shot up, forcing Kyle to retreat his hand. “Are you singing along right now?”

Kyle blushed and looked away. “I just recognize the tune…” 

Stan shuffled closer excitedly, so they were face to face. This way, Kyle could count every faint freckle, mark or scar on his face, if given enough time. “Memoryyy, yeah!” While Stan sang, Kyle reached up his thumb to run it over the boy’s right dark circle. 

“It’s ‘memoria’.” He commented without thinking. When he realized what he’d blurted out, he pressed his lips together ashamedly, pulling his hand back again. 

“I knew it! You like Nirvana!” Stan gushed. He unconsciously wiggled a bit when he was excited over something, Kyle noted. 

“Maybe I just like you.” Okay, he was really giving himself away now. 

“Oh.” Stan looked a little taken by surprise at the confession first, but then smiled. He leaned down to kiss Kyle sweetly. Maybe it was silly, but he could tell both of them still shied around the topic of actually confessing or dating, even though they’d kissed multiple times now. 

“Hey, you wanna go grab a snack?” Kyle murmured against Stan’s lips. He could still feel his breath on his face, cold from the winter air. 

“Ooh, yes.” Stan paused the music and put his phone in his pocket. He sat up and crawled off the bed, then stuck out his hand. “C’mon.” 

Kyle followed and took his hand happily. He held it all the way to the kitchen, which admittedly wasn’t all that far, but his family was home, so he thought it very brave of them. 

In the middle of the kitchen, which had an open connection to the front hallway, Kyle let go of Stan’s hand to rummage through the cabinets. “What did you want?” He didn’t bother turning around to face Stan while asking. 

“Hmm, a cookie?” Stan’s voice came from behind. 

“Ooh, good choice. Now I want a cookie too.” His eye caught the bag of white chocolate chip cookies he’d been looking for. He’d bought it for himself a few days prior, knowing his mom would never buy something so unhealthy of her own accord, but allowed him a sweet treat every now and then. She knew he could be responsible, even with his diabetes. 

“Please be my boyfriend.” He heard suddenly, snapping him out of his thoughts. He already knew his answer. 

“I’d love to.” Kyle smiled, turning around with the bag in his hand. Thought you’d never ask. 

“What?” Stan’s reaction wasn’t as he’d expected. “What did you say?” He whispered, frowning. 

“I said I’d- oh!” Kyle’s eyes shot wide open, realizing what had just happened. “Nothing…”

“Can you read my mind?”

“No! I mean- fuck!” Fuck, fuck fuck fuck fuck-

“I can’t believe this.” Stan muttered. “I can’t believe you.” To Kyle’s shock, his face turned harsh. “I always heard- but- why didn’t you tell me?!” He snapped. “I’d never think it to be true, I always figured you’d tell- fuck!”

“What?” Kyle whispered, taking a step back. His eyes were dangerously starting to burn already, just from being yelled at by his best friend.

“You- you knew! You knew how I felt for, what, weeks? And… and you didn’t confess! Why- do you even actually like me? Am I just your pity case? Your pity queer? Did you just feel bad- And why, why wouldn’t you tell me about this- whatever it is! You’re – you – mind reader – why didn’t you tell me?!” Stan was rambling, now. “Am I not your super best friend? Can’t you trust me?” 

“Stan, please, I do like you, I was just scared, my mom said-” 

Stan took a step towards the door. His eyes were teary, too. “Don’t bring your mom into this! What does she have to do with us- with anything?! No, this is you, you-” 

Even though Stan didn’t sound angry, only sad, scared, and hurt, Kyle’s eyes were watering, ready to spill over. “Stan-” 

“Don’t fucking- no. I don’t want to see you right now.” His face was like stone, but so hurt. He took another step towards the door. 

Kyle stared at him, opening his mouth, but nothing would come out. The tears were rolling down his cheeks now, warm and salty. He still had the bag of cookies clutched tightly in his left hand, but his arm was limp. 

Stan tore his gaze away from him and then, after an excruciating moment, finally turned around. 

The last thing Kyle saw of Stan that day was a blurred vision of the back of his jacket as he slammed the front door and walked away. 

Chapter Text

After calming down, Kyle had immediately tried to call Stan that very same day, but it hadn’t gone well. 

“Just tell me, Stan, what do I need to do? Are you scared? Is it because I’m psychic, are you weirded out?” He pleaded desperately. 

“What? No! It’s not- whatever you are, I don’t care. It’s just- what you did, not telling me for… for probably years- how long has it even been going on?” 

Kyle swallowed, staying silent for too long. Huh, isn’t that ironic. 

“Wow. I see. Bye, then.” 

“Wait, no, please, Stan, I was born with it, I’m sorry, just please don’t hang up, I love…” 

But it was already too late. He’d heard the beep before he even began to explain himself. 

So, he decided to sleep on it. 
Though he didn’t fall asleep until he rocked himself back and forth on his bed for an hour, trying to read in his book. But as tears blotched the paper, he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about it again. 

~

After a long night of tossing and turning, the next day had finally arrived. Kyle rolled out of bed and began to tend to his hair. 

It was a chilly Sunday morning, and every single car window, shallow puddle, and half-empty stray bottle of wine was frosted. 

Maybe Stan was just upset yesterday. Maybe today he could explain, and Stan would listen, and he’d understand and forgive him and everything would go back to normal. With kissing, if he was lucky. 

Who am I kidding? When have I ever been lucky in my life?

Nonetheless, Kyle got ready: getting dressed, washing his face, binding his hair back. He would try to make it up to Stan, at least. 

He gobbled down his cereal (“Bubby, slow down! What are you in such a rush for?”) and pulled on his boots and jacket with telekinesis, falling back into the old habit. 

He didn’t bring anything with him on the way, not even his earbuds. 

Ever since Stan’s family had moved back, Kyle had memorized all routes to and from Stan’s home: by bike, by car, by foot, even by public transport (which was dumb, it was ten minutes of walking opposed to twenty on the bus). 

Two minutes in, he already regretted not bringing anything. It felt weird and unanchored without a bag. He shoved his hands into his pockets so he wouldn’t have to think about what to do with them.
(Do you ball them into fists? Do you swing them? How do people just know these things?) 

Six minutes in, he was starting to question if waking up and instantly going to Stan’s house first thing in the morning was really the smartest thing to do, the morning after a fight. 

Eight minutes in, he was sure it was most definitely not. But all he really wanted was to make up and go back to being them. 

When he rang the doorbell to the Marsh house, he was honestly ready to turn and just run back.
He was seriously considering it – the family would probably just think it was a ding-dong-ditcher – when he saw the door handle turn. 

Please be Sharon, or Randy, or Sparky, or even Shelley-

Nope, why would he ever be so lucky? 

“What are you doing here?” Stan asked, a harsh tone in his voice yet a soft tone in his heart. 

Kyle kicked a pebble on the porch, rocking back and forth on his heels. “Honestly, I’m not even sure. I just want to tell you that I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Stan urged. 

“For never telling you about- oh, by the way, I can do telekinesis too…” He emphasized his point by making the pebble he’d been kicking float up and circle around Stan’s head. 

Stan followed the thing with his eyes, mouth agape – Kyle was just surprised that he hadn’t backed away in fear at this revelation – then fixed his gaze back on Kyle, narrowing his eyes. “Seriously? More secrets?”

Kyle scrunched his eyebrows together in desperation. “Really, I am sorry. You’re right, I should’ve told you something big like this.” He dropped the rock again. 

“Yeah. You know you can tell me anything, right? I would never… I don’t know, whatever it is that you think I would do that made you never tell me. Judge you, or whatever. I’d help you, even! But you should have told me this. I just… find it difficult to trust you, right now. I mean, now I can never be sure you actually want to be with me, and didn’t just, I don’t know, get tired of hearing me pine, or take pity on me, or even mistake your own feelings just because you’re flattered-”

“What?!” Kyle interrupted, grabbing Stan’s shoulder, then immediately pulling back when he saw how Stan looked at the hand resting there. “Stan, that’s insane.” 

“Don't call me insane.” Stan muttered, inching away. 

Ignoring it, Kyle continued. “I know how I feel. I mean, I’m usually clueless what I feel, but I’m sure of this. I’ll tell you everything, from now on, if you let me!” He started listing off secrets. “I’m bent, I like you, I’m psychic – mind reading and telekinesis, I was born like it, symptoms started showing since I was a baby, my parents first noticed when I was two, Wendy picked up on it at least a year ago-”

“Wendy knew?!” Stan’s mouth fell agape and his eyebrows furrowed together. “Wendy knew before I did?!” 

Realizing his mistake, Kyle tripped over his own words trying to undo it. “Well, not know, she started figuring it out on her own, you know how smart she is-”

“I can’t believe you!” Stan interrupted, raising his voice again. Oh, no, here it comes. “I just- give me time, okay? I need to process all of this.” He lowered his voice again almost immediately. “Don’t… cry, please…” 

“Time?” I’ll give you anything but that, please just come back to me. “How long?”

“I don’t know,” Stan shrugged, “I just- I don’t know. Just leave me alone. For a bit.”

“Stan, please,” Kyle sobbed, breaking into tears all of a sudden, “you’re… I need you. You’re my everything.” It was a desperate plea. 

“Yeah, well, clearly I am not your ‘super best friend’! I never loved you, I don’t care for you, I just-“ Stan snapped. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to stop his own tears as well. “Just leave me if you can’t even trust me. I don’t need you. I… I hate you. Goodbye.” Stan slammed the door. 

Kyle had known it was a lie the second Stan began to speak. But even if he knew that Stan was tearing up on the other side of the door, hating himself for loving Kyle, it still hurt. 

And maybe it wouldn’t have hurt as much if Stan really did hate Kyle. But they both knew he didn’t. Not even a little bit. 

And Kyle hated having to hear how much Stan hated himself for not hating him. 

So much hate, all because of love. 

All because of the fear Stan felt, thinking about how many people might hate them for their love. How many people might hurt them for their love. 

All because Kyle couldn’t just fucking open up, for once. Tell Stan. Why hadn’t he? He trusted Stan with his life. Shit. 

As tear stains streaked his face, Kyle stared at the closed door. But it remained silent. 

For the first time in his life, Kyle hated the quiet.