Just Us [ STAN x KYLE ]

☆ .10 | KYLE ☆

I bring Stan back to my house and into the bathroom. I help him remove the vomit clothes and have him go into the shower. Stan puking right there was super unexpected. I run his— well, my— clothes under the basement sink water and then toss them into the washing machine. When I come back upstairs, Stan is done with his shower. He looks great with wet hair, but I shouldn't think about that because he's sick. Stan is wearing the hoodie he went to Jimmy's party in last night and a pair of my shorts.

"Lay down," I tell him.

He lays on my bed and I sit next to him, putting my hand on his forehead.

"You don't feel hot, what happened? Why did you throw up?" I ask.

"Uhh," he says, "motion sickness."

I can tell he's lying, but I let it slide. We sit in silence for a while before Stan breaks it.

"I'm sorry," he says, "for ruining our day."

He seems genuinely hurt.

"Dude, it's fine. We'll have other days together," I smile. "Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"Um, yes," he's hesitant. "I want... you to lay down, next to me."

I don't understand why he hesitated to ask. I lie next to him and look at him. Then, he starts to move closer to me. He wraps his arms around me and pulls me close to his chest. Oh, so THIS is what he wanted to do. I'm so close, I can hear his heart beating. It's so fast. I look up at him and see that his face is bright red, but he doesn't look back down at me.

Stan starts to touch my hair. I like it when Stan treats me like this. He always makes sure to be gentle and doesn't do things that will make me uncomfortable. I bring my hand up to rub Stan's arm.

"Feeling better?" I whisper.

"A lot," he says.

"Great,"

I have the sudden urge to touch Stan more. I raise my arm and touch his lips gently. They feel as soft as they felt when they were all over my skin. Then, I feel them move.

"Kyle, what are you doing?" Stan asks.

"Touching you," I don't know how I say it so boldly, but I do.

I drag my fingers along his cheek, his chin, his neck, his shoulder, and then his collarbone before he grabs my wrist tightly. He breathes shakily.

"That's enough Kyle," He says.

"Shit, sorry dude. I got carried away."

"It's fine. Can we eat? I'm hungry," he seemed to be changing the subject.

"Sure, I think I have microwaveable meals downstairs," I say.

We go down to the kitchen and sure enough, there are microwaveable meals. We heat them in the microwave for around 5 minutes and take them out when it starts to beep. We go back upstairs to eat them. I unwrap the top of mine and start eating it with the plastic fork. Stan does the same.

I jokingly raise my fork to his mouth. "Want some?"

To my surprise, he opens his mouth and eats off my fork.

"Sick, dude! I ate from that already!" I exclaim.

"Hm. I don't care. It's good, by the way," he smiles.

I huff and eat from the fork again anyway. I mean, I didn't really have a choice. I stare at Stan. The way he eats somehow looks majestic. How he puts the fork up to his mouth before taking in as much as he can, but gracefully in some way. He looks up at me staring, and I quickly look away before he can notice. I wonder how it would be if Stan and I started dating. Would we be like Tweek and Craig? Now that I think about it, they're already gay, and I don't want to copy them. But some of me does want to date Stan.

I think I might like Stan, but he's head over heels for Wendy. Which means he's straight. Which means I don't have a chance. Though I accidentally became a little gay, so maybe he's secretly gay but I don't know.

"Stan?" I ask.

"Yes?"

"Have you ever liked another boy?"