Chapter Text
I used to have a perfect life, which to me already made it imperfect, because I didn’t believe in full happiness. I believed in an ephemeral state of satisfaction that could break at any moment for any reason, and that’s how I lived.
But for a middle-class teenager with no real problems, yeah, I had a perfect life. I didn’t need to work, I could buy whatever I wanted, and I had good friends and even a girlfriend, one I’d been with since childhood.
But then I ruined everything.
It was party night at the neighbors’ weed farm - meaning my friend Tolkien’s place. His parents traveled often, and whenever they did, he threw these parties with unrestricted access to weed, which pissed my dad off because it tanked his business (after all, we lived off a weed farm!), but I always crossed the street and went anyway.
Around 2 a.m., when some of the more irresponsible teenagers had already thrown up or passed out on the grass, I was on Tolkien’s roof with my (best) friend Kyle. We watched the couples, the gross teenage stuff, and made fun of whoever deserved it, laughing like lunatics. Kyle and I were sharing a bottle of wine - actually, we’d already gone through two more before that - so we were pretty far gone, which was normal for us.
“You see that?” he pointed toward a dark corner where there was a lattice swing. On it, Tweek and Craig were kissing, which was very normal. What wasn’t normal was that Kenny (one of our closest childhood friends) was groping Craig, and he and Tweek were basically sharing the guy’s mouth. It was… kind of a peculiar scene.
“Dude.” I didn’t even know what to say. “I literally never imagined I’d see something like that. I think I’ve officially seen it all now.”
“No, you haven’t. Have you seen your parents having sex?” Kyle raised a brow. I knew he’d caught Sheila and Gerald mid-coitus a few times.
“Well, yeah, but I don’t want to talk about that,” I shuddered. I hadn’t told Kyle because it was way too traumatic. “I’ve heard it too. Plenty of times. Like, almost every night.”
“Oh, so that’s why you can’t sleep without that rain sound.”
“That’s right, Detective Watson.” I grabbed the wine bottle from his hand and finished it. Kyle’s face was flushed, partly from the autumn cold and partly from the alcohol. There was a stain of wine on his chin, and I leaned closer to wipe it with the hem of my shirt.
“Dude. That was weird.” Even as he said it, Kyle was laughing and smiling.
My head was spinning a little, and I felt the urge to lie down. Stupidly, I rested my head on Kyle’s shoulder and relaxed. The alcohol was making me warm, dazed, and completely intoxicated.
As the silence settled between us, Kyle kept watching Kenny go at it with the couple, while I closed my eyes and took a deep breath of the icy night air. It was early October, but it already felt like it was going to snow in South Park. Despite the cold, the wine and Kyle’s warmth beside me made me feel immune.
I don’t know exactly when something shifted in my mind, but I know I was the one who made the first move. At first, I was thinking about Wendy’s face — especially how she looked in winter, when her cheeks got red like Kyle’s were now. The softness of Kyle’s neck where my face rested reminded me of how gently my skin touched hers whenever we’d been apart for a while. Honestly, even his scent reminded me a little of her: vanilla with a hint of shredded coconut toasted in the oven. A sort of cookie smell — warm and comforting.
And that was enough to make me act the way I did, so impulsively.
I kissed Kyle.
And I can’t deny it — I remember clearly that when I opened my eyes halfway, he was staring at me. He said something like “don’t fall asleep on me,” but I ignored it and leaned in even more, and just kissed him. I wanted to feel his lips, to see if they were as soft as Wendy’s, if he tasted like grape lip gloss too. He didn’t — but he tasted like smooth red wine and something fresh, like toothpaste or mint candy. His tongue was velvety, gentle, and ridiculously inviting, making me want to deepen the kiss and keep going. And of course, he didn’t stop me, which only made it worse when, besides kissing him, I turned my body fully toward him and placed my hands on his slim waist.
I wanted to compare it to Wendy’s, but it was incomparable — his was slim in a way where I could feel the muscles underneath, while hers was soft and squeezable. Both good, just in different ways.
And that single thought made me stop the kiss abruptly.
I looked at Kyle — his green eyes wide in shock, lips red, cheeks flushed, red curls falling slightly over his eyes. He didn’t know what to say, and neither did I.
A few seconds of silence passed before Kyle stood up.
“I think I’m really drunk,” he said, starting toward the stairs that led back down, and I followed him. “And you’re drunk too, Stan. You’re… I… What… the fuck…”
He stopped at the top of the stairs and stared at me. He was clearly shaken, and I felt my heart plummet in my chest, slamming against my ribs in a brutal, painful rhythm. What had I done? I cheated on Wendy — with my best friend!
“Dude, I’m sorry, I don’t know what got into me,” I blurted. “Like… I miss Wendy, and I don’t know, my brain mixed things up. You’re my best friend.”
Kyle was nervously fidgeting with his scarf and wouldn’t meet my eyes anymore — a clear sign he was beyond embarrassed and about to lose it.
“You’re my best friend too, Stan, and that’s why you can’t just go around kissing me when we’re drunk. You know what that kind of thing can lead to? And fuck, I kissed you back! Oh God, what is happening?” He was cursing more at himself than at me.
“What if we forget this? Do you think you can wake up tomorrow and delete all of this without feeling crushing guilt?”
“Probably not.”
“Yeah. Great. I fucked everything up.”
Kyle nodded slowly and turned on his heel to go downstairs. I heard his voice one last time as he went down.
“We’re not talking about this again. And no one can know.”
“No one will,” I confirmed, following him. “Never.”