Drunk Hearts

Christmas and Hanukkah: Part 2

Stan was near out of breath from pure anxiety when he made it back inside his house. They hadn't even interacted that much, but it was more than he had prepared himself for. He darted up the stairs before his parents could ask him any questions, and sat down on his bed without taking off his coat or even shoes.

He didn't sit long before his mom knocked on the door, slowly opening it. "Hey Stan, I heard you come home, can you help me prepare dinner?"

Stan groaned internally and then agreed. He shook off his jacket and stepped out of his shoes and followed Sharon back down the stairs and into the Kitchen. Shelly and Gerald were sitting on the couch sharing a beer. Shelly had to have helped earlier or else she would be helping now too, and Stan knows for a fact that his dad has done nothing.

While Sharon worked on some type of dessert, Stan started on the mashed potatoes. His brain was blank as he was mashing, still frazzled from before.

"Sweetie, I think those potatoes have had enough," Sharon joked, noticing Stan was more than done.

He pathetically chuckled, "oh, yeah. Oops."

Suddenly, the doorbell rang. It almost startled Stan. His mom then asked, "can you get the door? I'll finish up with the potatoes and then we should be good to go."

Stan nodded, making his way to the door, expecting Uncle Jimbo or another family member. He was not expecting, however, Kyle and his family when he opened the door.

"Hello Stanley!" Sheila exclaimed, giving him a big hug - despite holding various tubs of food, "it's been too long!"

Stan stood frozen, staring at the Broflovski's. Sheila was happy, Gerald was neutral, Ike looked uncomfortable and sympathetic, and Kyle... Well Kyle was simply looking at the ground, holding his arms behind his back.

"Uh, hi," Stan croaked, opening the door wider and stepping out of the way so they could come in.

"Gerald my man!" Randy shouted, getting up from the couch. He grabbed another beer and handed it to Kyle's dad, and they wandered off.

Sheila naturally gravitated towards Sharon in the kitchen, bringing the trays of food over. They could hear the two moms talking at an unnatural level, which is usually how they get around each other.

Ike stepped in, looking at Stan, "did your mom not tell you we were coming over?"

Stan gave him a shy "no."

Ike then turned and backhanded Kyle in the side, "why didn't you tell him when he came over?"

Kyle gave Ike an angry look, making Ike scoff and join Shelly on the couch, watching whatever was on the TV. That left Kyle and Stan, still standing by the door.

When Kyle finally looked up, he noticed something about Stan. When he saw him earlier, he was wearing a big baggy coat. Now, with his coat off, Kyle can see that Stan looks sick. Not sick like the flu, though.

"Have you been eating?" Were the first words out of Kyle's mouth. He didn't even really think before asking that.

Stan hesitated, but replied, "yes," and then walked back into the kitchen to see if his mom needed any more help in an attempt to get out of that conversation. Kyle sighed and sat over by Ike, who was giving him a nasty glare.

"Really?" Ike whispered to Kyle with his teeth closed.

"I panicked!" Kyle responded in the same volume.

Before Ike could continue berating him, Sharon called out, "the food is ready!" Followed by Sheila, "boys, come help set the table!"

The two got up from the couch and helped grab plates, napkins, and the works; placing them respectively on the table in silence. All eight of them sat down, Kyle across from Stan. Stan looked notably pale, but Kyle didn't want to say anything more.

There was chatter amongst the dinner, mostly the parents and occasionally Shelly and Ike adding bits and pieces. Stan poked around at his food, keeping his head held low in order to not accidentally look at Kyle. Kyle ate without joining in on any of the conversation, but glanced at Stan a few times.

Stan did eat, he had to. Especially being surrounded by his family and Kyle's family, he didn't want to bring attention to himself. Though with each bite he got more and more nauseous, because Kyle was sitting directly across from him, and his nerves got the best of him.

About halfway through eating, Stan felt an all too familiar lurch in his stomach. "Excuse me-" he blurted, harshly standing up from the chair and bolting to the bathroom. Everyone paused in their talking, staring at each other in confusion.

"Oh my, is he okay?" Sheila spoke up.

Sharon looked slightly worried, but put up a calm front. "He's been feeling pretty sick, I'll go check up on him."

"No, I'll do it," Kyle interjected, again without thinking.

Sharon sat back down from halfway standing. "Awe, thank you Kyle."

Kyle got up from his chair, taking a quick last bite of the mashed potatoes, and then made his way to the bathroom. He lightly tapped on the door, waiting for an answer. All he heard was heaving, so he decided to just go in. Luckily, Stan left the door unlocked.

"Are you okay?" Kyle asked softly.

"Yeah," Stan muttered, head still in the toilet, "not my greatest moment."

Kyle chuckled to himself, "no, but you've had worse."

Weirdly enough, the atmosphere felt comfortable. Despite the situation, the boys were able to actually joke with each other.

"And somehow you're always the one witnessing them." Stan slowly picked his head up, flushing the toilet. He sat down with his back against the tub, still pale but with everything out of his system.

Kyle sat down next to him. "Funny how that happens."

Neither of them said anything else. They sat next to each other, letting the thoughts swarm. Then, Kyle reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box.

"Merry Christmas," he said, holding the box out in front of Stan.

Stan slowly grabbed it, finally looking at Kyle. He carefully unwrapped it, pulling out a small silver chained bracelet with a singular charm. As he looked closer, the noticed the charm was a little square with the words "you're here" on the front and the letter "K" on the back.

Growing anxious, Kyle kept talking, "I got it for you a while ago, but wanted to wait until Christmas to give it to you. It's not great compared to what you gave me for Hanukkah, but I--"

"I love it," he cut him off, "thank you."

Kyle cracked a sly smile, cheeks turning the slightest shade of pink. Stan put it on, and then looked back at Kyle. They locked eyes, until Kyle sheepishly looked away.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly.

"Me too," Stan said, still looking at him.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," Kyle admitted, "I fucked up. Really bad. I shouldn't have said those things, and god knows I didn't mean them, but I was so caught up in my own stress that I took it out on you. It's not an excuse, and if I could take it all back I would, but I can't, and I'm so sorry. You don't have to forgive me, but--"

Stan swung his arms around Kyle, holding him tightly. Kyle was caught off guard, but wrapped his arms around him too.

Into Stan's shoulder, he said, "you're nothing like your dad."

Stan's head was buried in Kyle's hair, so his words came out slightly muffled, but still clear to Kyle. "I love you."

Kyle squeezed Stan tighter. "I can't lose you."

"I love you," Stan repeated.

"I love you. I'm sorry."

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Words: 1254