Chapter Text
"I just don't get it, dude, I just don't. How can she keep dumping me like this? It's ridiculous!" Stan whined, positioned dramatically on Kyle's bed as if it were his own.
"You sound like a fucking chick when you talk about Wendy. That's what's ridiculous," Kyle retorted simply, finding the dirt underneath his nails far more entertaining than Stan's heartbroken complaining. Kyle never understood why he always got like this after one of their "breaks," but then again, he supposed he didn't know what it was like. Relationships, that is. He had never dated a girl, and quite frankly, he never found himself interested in the whole dating scene, anyway. Girls were too much drama for him.
"Kyle, I'm in pain here, can't you see that?!" Stan threw an arm over his forehead, squinting against the harsh light pouring from the ceiling. "And seriously, turn off the lights, it's way too bright in here."
"It's not bright at all. You're just being dramatic." Kyle huffed, but he ended up flicking the switch anyways, for Stan's sake. "Maybe you should stop fucking drinking at 4 pm on a Tuesday, then my light wouldn't bother you so much."
"How else am I supposed to numb the pain?" Stan responded in a slight murmur, shifting to sit up in the bed. "Hey Kyle, you know how Clyde is planning that party to celebrate the end of freshman year or whatever-" Kyle nodded, "-what if I ask Wendy to go with me? Maybe she'll be so shocked at how cool I am there that she'll have no choice but to come crawling back!"
As if, Kyle thought to himself, knowing full well it was always Stan "crawling" back to her. He didn't say anything about it, though, "And how will you be any cooler at Clyde's party than you are now?" Kyle quirked an inquisitive and amused brow Stan's way.
"Well, I'll just get, like, really good at kissing or something! Yeah, that'll work!" Stan exclaimed excitedly, clearly starting to feel buzzed from the beer he snuck out of Randy's cabinet.
"And how exactly will you get this good at kissing without practice?" Stan's plan was sounding dumber and dumber to Kyle's overly analytical brain.
"I'll just practice, duh, I thought you were the smart one here," Stan rolled his eyes like the explanation was the simplest thing.
"With who?" Kyle prompted.
"I don't know, some random girl. Does it even matter, dude?"
"Yes, it matters! You can't just string a girl along like that, it's messed up. Or something. I don't know, girls are way sensitive. You know this better than me, I've never even had a girlfriend! Plus, didn't you and Wendy already kiss, multiple times?" Kyle let his gaze drift from Stan's eyes to the books lining his shelf neatly.
"We have, but like, only pecks. And barely ever. Kissing is kinda gross, y'know?" Stan mumbled, before wincing as he realized his mistake. "Sorry. I forget sometimes... that you don't know at all, that you've never, y'know. Kissed a girl."
"I have too!" Kyle glared at him, jaw dropping in offended shock.
"I'm sorry but that girl you lightly brushed your lips against in third grade doesn't count," Stan grinned mockingly at him, and Kyle chucked a pillow at Stan's smiling face.
"Moving on, who the hell are you gonna kiss with no strings attached?" Kyle shifted in his spot next to Stan.
"Maybe Bebe? She's not like the other girls, she won't get all sensitive about it," Stan suggested.
"She's going out with Clyde, dude, she's off the market. What other slutty girls do we have in our grade? None." Kyle watched Stan sigh dramatically, flopping on the bed beside him yet again.
"It's not like I can kiss a dude, Kyle," Stan retorted helplessly. Kyle felt his heart jolt at the notion, a queasy feeling welling up uncomfortably in his stomach. He had to look away again.
"Obviously. That'd be gay as hell," Kyle played it off stiffly, hoping Stan didn't notice the uncomfortable air settling between them. Maybe Kyle was just imagining things. A terribly awkward silence smothered the both of them, making Kyle wonder if maybe Stan regretted even bringing up something as scandalous as kissing another boy. It was 2022, it wasn't like being gay was that big of a deal, but the idea made Kyle insanely fidgety. Two dudes together just didn't seem right, at least not for a freshman boy in a hick town.
Finally, Stan spoke, "Well, it's not like it would be that gay, I guess. I mean if I was just kissing a guy for practice then it doesn't mean anything," Stan stumbled over his words so slightly Kyle was sure he was imagining things at this point. "Not that I would!" Stan added quickly when he took note of Kyle's uneasy expression.
"I guess I see what you mean. But still, if anyone found out you'd never hear the end of it, dude, and you and I know that any guy you proposition to in South Park is definitely gonna laugh in your face and tell everyone," Kyle couldn't find it in him to meet Stan's eyes anymore.
"Well, maybe not everyone," Even without Kyle's eyes on him, he knew Stan was examining his face, and he knew what Stan was implying.
"No, no way!" Kyle could almost laugh at how stupid it sounded, finally turning to face his childhood friend again. Stan's expression was slight and hopeful, eyes a big, deep blue as he stared pleadingly at Kyle.
"Come on, please? You're the only person who would never make fun of me for it!" Stan complained, never taking his eyes off Kyle.
"I think you're overestimating our friendship. I love you, Stan, but Jesus. I would absolutely make fun of you for it," Kyle scoffed, but his disbelief quickly turned to guilt as he noticed the embarrassed expression molding Stan's features, "I'm sorry, I won't make fun of you, promise." Kyle said softly, soft enough that his voice sounded almost unreal.
Excitement lit up across his face like a child getting ice cream. "Really?! Does that mean you'll kiss me now?" Stan batted his eyes hopefully at Kyle, who groaned in annoyance.
"That's not what I said, at all, and for fucks sake, can you not say something that incriminating that loudly?!" Kyle hissed lowly, but he felt himself give way to Stan's pleading, anyway. That boy was like a sculpter, and Kyle was his prized piece. He kept wearing away at him, chipping and chipping consistently until he got what he wanted out of Kyle, shaping him to be what he needed. Kyle couldn't say he hated it, either. Without Stan, there was no purpose.
"So... is that a yes or a no?" Stan looked hopefully through hazy, drunken eyes at Kyle.
Kyle paused. "Fine. Just don't speak a word of it to anyone. I'll do it just this once and if it isn't that bad, then I'll help you with your plan. But don't blame me when you wake up tomorrow, realizing how drunk and stupid you were. Anything that happens now isn't my fault, capiche?"
"Triple capiche," Stan nodded fervently, his hopeful look turning into blatant nerves.
"How... how does it..." Kyle felt his face flare up with heated embarrassment at his lack of knowledge in this area. He always prided himself on being the best of the best, deeply intelligent. But here he was, feeling lost with not an idea what to do, like he forgot how to walk, almost. One step in front of the other, lips on lips. It seemed easy enough in theory, but in practice, it felt terrifying. Kyle sat up sharply, "Maybe we shouldn't do this-"
"Kyle, it's fine, let me take the lead. I'm the expert here, after all," Stan grinned cheesily at him through low-lidded eyes. "Just mimic what I do,"
Kyle couldn't find any words in him, so instead of responding he just nodded slightly. Stan, now fully upright and painfully close to Kyle, started to lean in slowly. Kyle jumped at the feeling of Stan's knee brushing against his thigh as he moved closer to him.
This is it, Kyle thought, this is my first real kiss.
It felt like time slowed as they drifted closer to each other; Kyle hardly even noticed he had begun to gravitate towards Stan as well. He felt his breath hitch in his throat, caught on the nerves clogging up his body. It almost seemed to Kyle like he had forgotten how to breathe, like the motions were simply too complex for him to comprehend when the only thing he could focus on was his best friend's lips approaching his own.
This is all wrong, Kyle thought to himself, or at least, it should be all wrong. But he couldn't bring it in him to find this anything but perfectly right as Stan closed the distant between them, noses bumping together in an endearingly awkward way. With anyone else it would have been embarrassing, but with Stan, it was anything but.
The blood pumping ferociously in his ears drowned out whatever Stan had to say when he pulled back, dizziness swirling in his mind.
"Kyle, I said, you need to close your eyes next time," Stan smiled ever so slightly, his hand still cupped gently upon Kyle's cheek. He hadn't even noticed it was there, he had been too focused on his lips.
"Why?" Kyle could only blurt out, face searing with the shame he felt at what had just transpired.
"Because it makes it a little stiff and awkward if you don't. Here, we can try again, this time close your eyes," Stan said, falling quiet as his hand slipped from Kyle's face to his shoulder.
"Okay," Kyle whispered back, his eyes searching Stan's, always drawing back to his lips before he spoke again.
"May I?" Stan breathed lightly, and Kyle nodded, letting his eyes screw shut tightly. His only indicator of how close he was to Stan was the beer stained breath fanning across his lips. Startled by the feeling of his nose once again bumping into Stan's, he pulled back, making Stan's eyes flutter open.
"Your face, you need to-" Kyle groaned, latching a hand on Stan's jaw to tilt his head to the side before going in for the kiss. His hand faltered off his jaw the longer the kiss went on, trailing to a flat stop on Stan's chest. They were still young, still lanky, and hadn't yet filled out whatever muscles were destined for them, however, Stan's years of being on the football team did him well.
There was almost a comfort in feeling Stan's body heat radiate through his shirt and on to his palm, but the best part was feeling his unsteady heartbeat pump fast beneath Kyle's touch.
Kyle felt shy arms snake around his waist, clutching the fabric of his shirt loosely and tugging him closer. Fumbling from the force, Kyle pulled away from Stan, eyes wide as he stared at him.
"So. Was that bad or will you help me?" Stan asked in a small voice.
Kyle needed a moment. In fact, he needed several moments to recover from what just happened, whatever it was anyway. Despite Stan's reassurances, it sure as hell felt gay. He was pretty certain that practicing kisses with your best friend wasn't supposed to feel like that. To feel good.
Unless, of course, it was gay.
The mere implications sent shivers of fear down Kyle's spine.
"I-I don't know. Fuck. Fucking... fuck! That was..." Kyle trailed off.
Stan finished for him, "... Not as gay as you thought, right?" No. Fuck no. The opposite, in fact. Kyle didn't want to admit it though. "Please Kyle, I really need to get better at it to win Wendy over! I promise I won't tell a soul."
Kyle thought. He thought for what felt like forever, but was surely only ten seconds. He thought so hard until he came to a conclusion: "Okay, Stan. I'll do it. On multiple conditions, though. No regret. No blaming me. Like I said before, anything that happens now is on you."
"Got it," Stan nodded firmly, "it's on me now."