Chapter Text
“Flight 678 from Denver to Dublin, now boarding group A”
Stan perked up, now sitting straight and attentive instead of slumping in his uncomfortable seat. He elbowed Kenny, who had been nodding off on Stan’s right shoulder.
“Wake up, man, we're boarding now.”
Kenny squinted at the dimly lit airport, pulling back the hood of his sweater. He twisted right, then left, cracking his back audibly. His blonde hair shone dully, contrasting with the bright orange of his hoodie.
“Fucking finally, dude,” he yawned, “We've been here for eons.”
Cartman looked up from his phone, where he had obnoxiously been watching YouTube Shorts at full volume. He sat across from the other two boys since he needed two empty seats next to him to accommodate for his overflowing frame.
“You don’t even know what an eon is, asshole,” he snarked.
Stan rolled his eyes, standing up and stretching. “Whatever, guys, let's just get on the plane, alright? Kyle is waiting for us.”
Cartman groaned. “Shut up about the jew already, loverboy. We're going.”
Stan could feel Kenny look at him, scanning for a reaction. Stan said nothing and walked to the gate entrance.
The boarding process was agonizingly slow, the three boys shuffling like zombies behind other red-eye passengers. Unfortunately, the 3:00 AM flight was significantly cheaper than the rest of them, making it the only feasible option for Kenny. Not even a late night/early morning flight on the notorious City Airlines could prevent Cartman from joining, who had overheard a conversation between Stan and Kenny about the trip while the three of them were getting stoned in the woods. Caught up in the smoky haze and mellow, Stan said, “Yeah, dude, whatever, you can come. Just pay for your own flight and the hostel.”
And the bastard had done just that. Not even a hostel, like Stan and Kenny, had originally considered. A hotel. On Temple Bar, the center of the city. Stan could not even imagine how much Cartman forked over for this trip and wondered, not for the first time, why he was so hell-bent on going. He hates Kyle. Stan was suspicious but too tired to contemplate it too deeply at the moment. The minute he settled into his window seat and the safety video started playing, Stan knocked out.
He dreamt of green grass, green eyes, and fiery red hair. He did not remember his dream when he woke up for the on-flight meal a few hours later.
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When given the choice between steamed vegetables and chicken or a stale BLT sandwich, he chose the latter and took out the bacon. After munching slowly on his lettuce and tomato sandwich, he ate the chips that came on the side and poked gingerly at the chocolate pudding cup provided for dessert. He felt Kenny eyeing his bacon, and slid the tray to him. He could hear Cartman behind him insisting that as a “paying customer,” he deserved a fitting meal, and after 10 minutes of whining, he was rewarded with an extra sandwich and pudding cup.
Kenny nudged Stan, smirking and whispered, “If they keep feeding him, they might have to move him with the other heavy cargo”. Stan snickered, loud enough that Cartman heard him and shrieked, “What are you two gaywads laughing at?”
Stan turned around and looked at Cartman in between the seats. “Nothing, fatass. Just try and hold in your farts for the next five hours of this flight, okay?”
Cartman patted his stomach. “Oh, sweet Marsh. I fear I cannot make any promises when it comes to my superior gastrointestinal system.”
Upon hearing that, Kenny groaned and pulled up his hood again. The motion caused his sleeve to roll back slightly, and Stan noticed his stick and poke shield tattoo on the inside of his wrist. When he questioned Kenny about the tattoo, he just mumbled something about it representing his family. Cartman joked it represented Salvation Army thrift stores because Kenny’s family was so poor. After that, Kenny clammed up about the topic. Stan remembered texting Kyle about the event, and the two boys tried to deduce what the symbol could mean to Kenny.
Just the thought of talking to Kyle in person after two months of Facetime calls and text messages made Stan smile to himself. He missed his best friend like a severed limb; he had been feeling incomplete without him. Which made plenty of sense. After all, the two had been inseparable for most of their childhood.
And now… well, they left things in a murky place. The two boys have been able to communicate completely normally, but something was different the night before Kyle’s flight. He had been all packed up for his trip, with suitcases filled with office attire for his law internship. Stan sat cross-legged on Kyle’s bed while Kyle packed up some remaining books and miscellaneous items in his carry-on.
“Dude, what could you possibly need a first aid kit for?” Stan laughed.
“Well, foreign pharmacies are different! What if they have weird antibiotic ointment, or their bandaids don't feel right? The intern-abroad manual says to be prepared for anything.”
Kyle ran a hair through his curls, which had been recently cut. While Stan was fond of the untamable frizz of Kyle’s childhood hair, he had to admit that his new haircut and styling regimen was working for him.
Stan gripped Kyle’s shoulders, shaking him slightly. “You are the most prepared person I know. You will be fine, man.”
Kyle’s emerald eyes met Stan’s warm brown ones. At that moment, something flickered between them. Something warm and heady like the smoke curling from the nostrils of a sleeping dragon or the starting embers of a fire. It filled Stan up, making him feel slightly dizzy until he realized how hard he was grabbing Kyle and let go.
Kyle cleared his throat and looked away. “I’m really going to miss you, man; I wish you could come with me.”
And now, in a fit of lovesick mania, Stan Marsh was flying with Kenny and Cartman to Dublin, Ireland, so he could confess his feelings to Kyle, though nobody knew it but him.
However, until then, he would play it cool. He watched Kenny excitedly chug his legal in-flight wine since the plane followed the European drinking age. He listened to Cartman snore noisily in his seat. And he tried to focus on the Terrance and Phillip movie playing on the screen in front of him, while willing his heart to stop racing.