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The night air chilled Kyle's moistened skin—unblinking eyes focused on the abyss of the ceiling, his ushanka off center and tangling his curls. Kyle couldn't bring himself to care. His only thought was: "Not heavy enough."
He couldn't pinpoint when the gnawing, rubber-banded sensation started to fill his body, but it was here now. Kyle groaned, shifting to his stomach. His weighted blanket did little to quell the overwhelming sensory deprivation, leaving him half hard—a tease.
He pulled his hat off and sat up, grabbing his phone. Maybe he could ask Stan to sleep over—maybe, Stan wouldn't mind it. They are super best friends, after all.
Kyle's finger hovered over Stan's contact before chucking the phone to the end of his bed. He flopped back like a dying fish, dragging his hands across his face. "Gggggg," he sighed, his spine curving into the mattress, adjusting to his weight.
"Why can't Stan just," he started, biting his lip. The thoughts of Stan fluttered through his brain, a warmth radiating through his body in response. If he didn't find something that was 170 pounds, he would never sleep again.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
"What's up Jew, spend too much time counting your coins," Cartman snarled, and Kenny giggled next to him, only the slightest hint of concern hidden in his eyes.
"Shut up, fat ass, go fuck your mom. She's already a whore," Kyle spat, his insomnia making him even more irritable.
"I am not fat, I am big-boned, and my mom is not a whore!" Cartman's brows furrowed, thinking of his following retort, but Stan walked up before anything could be said.
"Sup," the lanky teen greeted, looking at the others with narrowed eyes. The three other boys nodded in greeting, Kyle and Cartman glaring at each other the entire time.
Stan ignored them, starting up a conversation with Kenny about comic books while they waited for the bus. "Have you heard of Mysterion?" Kenny questioned, looking at Stan expectantly.
"Yeah, he's pretty cool. I can't imagine not being able to die," Stan laughed, and it snapped Kyle out of his war with Cartman.
Kyle's heart felt like it stopped for only a breath. The way Stan's dimples dotted his features would live in Kyle's dreams.
Unfortunately, Cartman noticed too, jabbing Kyle in the side, "I see Jew-boy is gay too. Kiss him. I am sure he will vomit all over you." Kyle smacked Cartman curtly for his snide comments but gave it no further attention.
Stan caught his gaze, becoming entangled in some weird staring contest. His focus flicked to his peripherals to see Cartman and Kenny scheming (it's just Cartman telling Kenny his plans). They seemed to shake hands over something, forcing Kyle's gaze away from Stan's.
Stan coughed, cheeks noticeably pink. Kyle shook it off. It's just the snow warming his face, nothing more.
As they shuffled onto the bus, Kyle took his usual window seat, pressing his body against the cold metal. Stan pushed in next to him, his heat overbearing and his weight pressing slightly against Kyle's.
Kyle's shoulders slumped and back uncoiled, giving in to the pressure he craved. The realization lasted for a split second before he straightened up, coughing. He couldn't look gay in front of Stan.
Stan raised a brow at his sudden jerking but made no further comment, sliding closer. This time, Kyle just let Stan do what he wanted.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
School did nothing to pull Kyle away from his gay thoughts. If anything, it made it worse.
Kyle couldn't escape everywhere. Stan's smile seemed plastered to the halls and onto his cranium.
He could barely focus on the history lesson. He was overwhelmed by the sight of Stan's neck, wanting to push his hand up into his hair and scratch.
Mrs. Garrison looked at Kyle crossly, and he forced himself to watch the screen. When she turned away, Stan took the moment to lean his head back.
Kyle looked at him with annoyance, his gaze focused on the smooth expanse of Stan's throat, watching as his Adam's apple bobbed up and down.
"What's up with you?" Stan whispered sternly, concerned. Kyle could barely register his words. His attention split between Stan's throat and lips; Everything was so enticing.
"Uh," Kyle floundered, his mouth opening and closing like a fish.
"Cute," Stan smiled. Kyle could feel Stan's breath on his chin. If he leaned forward, he could— His thoughts were cut short by the lights flicking on and the video chatter coming to a halt.
His heart sped up tenfold. The feeling of eyes digging into his side was toe-curling. Stan's head jerked up, hitting Kyle in the nose.
Kyle grabbed his face, blood rushing through his nostrils.
"Haha, Stan gave his boyfriend a nosebleed!" Cartman yelled, the whole student body whipping their heads to face the two boys.
"Kyle, go to the nurses' office," Mrs. Garrison commanded. Kyle's face blanched, his knees going wobbly.
He stood up quickly, his weight almost buckling underneath him. Stan grabbed his arm, hauling half his weight onto his taller form.
"I should go with him. It was my fault, too," Stan offered, giving a sorry grin to Kyle.
"Fine, you may go with him," Mrs. Garrison sighed, turning around to call the rest of the class's attention.
When the two left, Cartman leaned over to snicker at Kenny, whispering something Kyle couldn't catch.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
"Sorry, Kyle," Stan looked sheepishly at his friend.
"It's okay," Kyle panted. He could barely focus Stan's deep voice, and warmth left Kyle scattered.
"I know the nurse is no fun. At least it's not that one with her dead twin attached to her head," Stan chuckled, desperate to lighten the mood.
Kyle laughed in unison, more blood trickling from his nose—he was bleeding far too much. Stan could see the other boy wince but continued to speak, not wanting to make his best friend—crush—nervous.
"Yeah, that was terrifying. I thought I might have a dead twin inside me," Kyle smiled at his companion, blood staining some of his teeth.
Stan's face drained of color. Hoisting Kyle up and walking them the rest of the way at a quicker pace. "Kyle, if you make it out of this alive, let's have a sleepover after school," Stan commanded, leaving Kyle to fend off the school nurse by his lonesome.
Kyle never did respond.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
Kyle isn't sure what witch voodoo the nurse used, but his nose finally stopped bleeding, and he was free to return to class.
There were only a couple minutes left of his sixth period—it seemed useless to go to his class now, so he decided to wait out the last couple of minutes at Stan's sixth period, football.
In hindsight, this probably wasn't the best idea, but if Kyle was going to answer Stan's offer, he would have to wait till he was finished with practice at 4. (He always ditched 5th early to go to football practice).
Stan caught Kyle's gaze as he leaned over the wire fence. The smile Stan gave him made his knees buckle, and if he wasn't clinging to the wall, he would have fallen again. When had his limbic system become so weak?
Watching Stan tackle other boys with that effortless charisma made him feel weak and horny.
He coughed, straightening up. Stan dabbed up one of his guy friends and strode over to Kyle. He brought him into a sweaty hug, scenting the boy in his musk. Was it normal to think your best friend smelled good sweaty?
Stan pulled away reluctantly, looking at Kyle with puzzlement. "What are you doing here?"
"You were the one that asked to hang out after school if I didn't die," Kyle deadpanned.
"Oh yeah, sorry, dude. So answer?"
"I wouldn't be here if it wasn't a yes," Kyle sighed fondly, punching Stan's shoulder playfully. "Now, go clean up. You stink."
Stan pulled Kyle into another hug and went to go clean up.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
The longer they walked side by side, their arms brushing against one another, the harder it was to resist clinging to Stan. It would be so easy for him to lace their fingers together and lean his head on the taller's shoulder.
"Dude, if you're tired, you can lean on me. It's no big deal. We are super best friends," Stan offered, stopping to let the other boy cling.
Kyle had no will to resist, taking the offer and intertwining their limbs. He silently wondered if Stan could read his thoughts.
Stan turned his head, a rustling disturbing his thoughts. Kyle looked up with confusion coloring his countenance. "Something wrong?"
"No," Stan replied curtly, taking on more of Kyle's weight.
Kyle wasn't wholly convinced, but he let it be.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
"Oh, Stanley, you're sleeping over?" Shelia asked, a bit of surprise tinting her tone.
"Yes," Stan replied, Kyle still gripping his arm.
"Well, okay, have fun, you two," Shelia said quickly, her eyes flicking. "Oh my, how cute. Kyle doesn't change still needs to be cuddled all the time!"
Kyle yanked himself away from Stan's warmth, doing his best not to curse his mom out. "Mom, you don't need to bring that up. It's old news," Kyle complained, looking up the stairs for escape.
"Hold on, bube. It's cute. No need to be embarrassed; It's just Stanley. I am sure he knows what a cuddle bug you are by now," Shelia continued, embarrassing her child with affection like all good Jewish moms.
"Kyle's cuddly?" Stan blinked, looking at Kyle expectantly.
"What, what, what!?" Shelia screeched, "You don't know? You have slept over so many times, you never once woke up with Kyle hugging you?" Shelia interrogated, much to her son's chagrin.
He wanted to curl into a ball or morph into a hermit crab. Anything would be better than this torture.
"No?" Stan sounded almost confused by his answer.
"NO!? Well, then, I will need to show you the baby photos."
"Not the baby photos!" Kyle screeched, grabbing Stan's hand and pulling him upstairs and into safety. He could still feel the tingle of warmth on his palm as he shut the door.
"Sorry, you know how she is," Kyle apologized, kicking a box to the side to clear more space.
"It's cool, dude. Your parents aren't half as crazy as mine," Stan comforted with a lopsided smile. Kyle had the urge to push his thumb against Stan's other cheek to even it out— so that he could feel the warmth of Stan's face.
"Ugh, debatable. My dad became a lawyer for the whole town," Kyle reminded, sighing.
"Dude, my dad moved us to a weed farm and said that Japanese people make people gay."
"I mean, sorta? Look at Tweek and Craig."
Stan huffed fondly at Kyle's comment, the smile becoming even more infectious—Kyle wanted to kiss him.
"So, wanna play that new video game? Persona 5 Royal, was it?" Stan asked, changing the subject.
"Nah, it's a single-player game. It is no fun for you. How about we study for the upcoming AP test?"
"It's a Friday, dude, hell no. Wanna make friendship bracelets?"
"What are we? Seven? I am about to turn seventeen. No way we are making beaded bracelets," Kyle huffed, his brows knitted.
Stan looked at him with the gaze of a broken puppy dog, and Kyle caved, pulling out the stacks of pony beads he had from his scene kid phase.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
Kyle sat against the end of his bed, Stan sitting next to him as they made each other a bracelet.
The din of some stupid controversial video about some anti-semitic book played in the background, adding sound to the quiet room.
"Is it true that you're a 'cuddle bug'?" Stan asked after a few seconds.
Kyle wasn't sure how to answer, his hand fumbling with the beads. "I mean, I guess, but I try not to cuddle to any body heat placed next to me. Gets worse when I am drained."
"Huh, I see. You know it's okay if you cuddle me, right? We're best friends."
"Isn't that kinda gay?"
"Nah, dude, best friends do it all the time. It's called bromance."
"If you say you're cool with it, then I will keep that in mind. Anyways, can you believe that some idiot seriously made a book about a Nazi falling in love with an prisoner!?"
"I am just shocked Fat ass didn't write it," Stan joked, elbowing into Kyle's side.
"Yeah—fuck dude, you ruined my bracelet for you!"
"Sorry, would a kiss make it better?" Stan asked, a cheesy grin splitting his cheeks.
"That's gay, dude," Kyle mumbled, fixing the cuff quickly.
Stan leaned in and kissed Kyle's cheek, his happy expression becoming all the more playful. Kyle was too shocked to respond and simply finished the cuff and tied it off.
"Stan, are you finished with yours?" Kyle asked, his cheeks pink with embarrassment.
"Yeah." Stan handed the cuff to Kyle.
"No, that's not how you trade cuffs! Here!" Kyle faced Stan, so they were face to face.
Stan looked down, watching as Kyle placed the cuff he made on his wrist. Kyle placed the cuff he made for Stan on his own wrist. "Okay, give me your hand."
Stan placed his hand flat, a look of confusion worming on his face.
"Now make a peace sign, and repeat my hand movements and words."
Stan nodded, following Kyle's instructions. Kyle pressed another peace sign to Stan's fingertips, the pressure and warmth mesmerizing to Stan.
"Peace."
"Peace."
Kyle makes his hand into half a heart, and Stan follows suit. "Love."
"Love."
Kyle intertwined their fingers together, looking into Stan's eyes for a split second. "Unity."
"Unity."
Kyle pulled the bracelet over their intertwined palms and spoke the last word: "Respect."
"Respect," Stan mimicked, his free hand gently caressing the sturdy cuff. Stan pushed the second cuff onto Kyle's wrist while their fingers remained together.
Neither made a move to unclasp their hands, staring dumbly into each other's eyes. Stan's breath warmed Kyle's nose, and he almost couldn't help it. The urge to lean in and kiss his best friend was magnetic.
Stan leaned in, capturing Kyle's lips, caressing Kyle's cheek. He pulled away chastely, a bright countenance painting his features.
"Wow, dude, this bracelet is amazing! You better never take it off! it's a sign of our friendship!"
Stan's demeanor shifted back to normal so fast it gave Kyle whiplash. He was still panting, red-faced rubbing his palm, and Stan was looking at him with glistening eyes and no sense of embarrassment.
"Oh my god, dude, are you sick? You're like seriously red!" Stan fussed over Kyle, pulling him into a hug—since when was Stan so damn touchy!?
"I am fine, dude. Let's just play Mario Kart," Kyle smiled awkwardly, pulling away from Stan's heat.
"Sure, dude! Whoever loses has to do whatever the winner wants!"
"Oh, you're so on. No way I would lose," Kyle responded, his competitive nature pressing upon his wits.
"You say that now," Stan smirked.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
"Boys, if you aren't dressed and in bed in an hour, you won't like the consequences! I don't care that you're seventeen! You're still kids and need sleep!" Shelia yelled from downstairs. "I will be up to check on you in an hour."
Kyle groaned, flopping back against the bed. "Okay, mom!" He glanced at Stan with an apologetic look, but he just took to laughing.
"Fuck," Kyle cursed. "One more round?" He begged, giving the best puppy dog eyes he could.
"You're on," Stan smirked, certain he would win for the thirtieth round.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
"Looks like I win," snickered Kyle, looking at Stan with devious intent.
"Damn it. What do you want?”
"I want you to cuddle me,” Kyle mumbled.
"Cuddle with me?" Stan pointed dumbly at himself.
"Yeah, dude.”
"Okay, yeah, sure, dude.”
“Cool, I will get changed in the bathroom; you can take the bedroom."
Kyle left the room, his heart racing like it would explode out of his chest. He could only explain Stan's willing behavior with one thing: Cartman drugged him.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
Getting comfortable in bed was utter hell. Kyle could barely focus with his best friend-turned-crush pressed so close to him.
It was calming, but the reoccurring thought that Stan was doing this unwillingly kept his eyes open.
Cartman had to have done something to Stan just to fuck with him. There was no way Stan was actually into him. Stan had kissed him twice and instantly agreed to cuddle with him! He had to be drugged!
Kyle flopped onto his back, and Stan curled up on top of him. Kyle raked his hand through Stan's greasy strands. Even if this was the effect of some idiotic drug, he could at least enjoy it.
Kyle could feel the grease on his palms, but Stan's hair was so soft, and the way he drooled a bit had Kyle's heart clenching. Even with his cuddle need fulfilled, he still wasn't going to get any sleep, was he?
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
A few hours passed, and Kyle was still assaulting Stan's black locs. He could finally feel his palpitations calm and lids droop.
He was about to let sleep take him when there was a rustling and whispered shouting by his window.
"God damnit, Kenny, hurry up!" The shout was followed by insistent mumbling.
Kyle sat up as best as he could, squinting into the dark of his room. “Who’s there?”
“Fuck, Kenny, the Jew caught us.”
Before Kyle could sew together his thoughts, Kenny and Cartman came barreling into his bedroom.
“What the fuck are you doing here, Fat ass, Kenny?!”
“I can’t visit my favorite Jew? We are friends.”
“Fuck off. We aren’t friends! Stop dragging Kenny into your stupid schemes Cartman.”
“Fuck you too, Jew-boy! If you and gay boy over there weren’t so oblivious, I wouldn’t have to waste my schemes on the likes of you!”
“So you did drug him!”
“Omg, calm your tits and clean out your vagina Kyle. It’s not like date rape.”
“You seriously drugged my best friend, fat ass, because you thought we’re gay!?”
“I would say so. You’re cuddling like some homosexuals.”
“Fuck you, Cartman!” Kyle’s scowl did nothing to penetrate Cartman’s exterior, and Kenny just laughed like there was nothing funnier. “What did you give to Stan!?”
“Just a simple truth serum. All this faggot-try is his own volition.”
Kyle flipped Cartman off, petting Stan mindlessly.
“Oh yeah, hate me, Kyle, I give you a boyfriend, and you insist on hating me. It wasn’t even my drugs. It was Kenny’s.”
Kyle’s anger shifted some; gaze focused on Kenny.
“Dude, you two were so gay, I couldn’t help but want you two to get together. The sexual tension was killing me,” Kenny mumbled.
“You never answered why you’re here!”
“We wanted to see that the serum worked, dumbass!”
Kyle didn’t know how to process all the new information. All he really wanted was to get to sleep. “I will deal with you two in the morning. Now get the fuck out of my room!”
“Oh no, Kyle’s on his period and needs to be cuddled by big strong Stan,” Cartman teased.
“Seriously, get the fuck out.”
“Okay, you stupid Jew, we are leaving.”
The two intruders left the way they came leaving Kyle with his thoughts.
“Stupid Fat ass, my period isn’t for two weeks.”
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
The next morning Kyle woke up to smooth breaths on his neck and soft kisses.
“Morning, dude.”
“Morning.” Kyle sat up and rubbed his eyes. He could feel Stan looking up at him adoringly.
“Why are you staring at me like that?”
“Cuz I love you, Kyle.” That was Kyle’s final straw. He had to know what the fuck was going on.
“Stan, you love me like romantically?”
“Yeah? I have been flirting with you for like years. You’re so oblivious it’s hard not to fuck with you. Did you seriously just notice? Do you not love me too?”
“I thought you liked girls, and what about the truth serum Cartman gave you?”
“It’s called being bisexual, like Butters? And those two are so stupid that serum was made by those same herbal quacks that tried to cure your kidney failure.”
“But you like Wendy? You have been dating for like years. No way you like me? And why did you just start kissing and cuddling me now if you have been flirting with me for that long?”
“I liked Wendy, but I love you, Kyle. I couldn’t make it work with her when I was so hung up on you. Also, I figured with Cartman and Kenny’s schemes. This would be the perfect time to turn up the flirting. You’re so cute when you’re flustered. Have I answered all of your questions now? Are you satisfied?” Stan asked with a dopey expression.
“Yes, but—”
“Stop making up excuses. Do you like me back or not?”
Kyle’s brows knitted, and his words caught in his throat. He had rehearsed this moment so many times, and yet now that it’s happening, he can’t seem to make a coherent sentence. “I like, no love you too, Stan.”
“Good,” Stan pressed a smile into Kyle’s sheepish one. “We are boyfriends now.”
“Boy—friends? Boyfriends.” Kyle traced his lips. He leaned forward, kissing Stan like he had wanted to do for years.
“You’re finally mine.”
“Hehe, yeah.”
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
“They are so gay,” Cartman whispered to Kenny, still spying on the two boys.
“Super gay. At least Kyle’s got a good ass. Stan’s lucky.”
“God, you’re a fag too.”
Kenny zipped down his parka and gave Cartman an asshole smirk.
“Fuck off, Kenny.”