Southpark Oneshots!

Kyle's song. [STYLE FLUFF]

[ALL I WANT IS YOU]

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Stan stood on the tiny stage at the bar after closing, stubbornly ignoring the quiet clinking of glass and Kyle’s sighs from across the room. Sure, it was probably time to go, but he had one last mission before the night ended.

Kyle, the bartender, was just too unforgettable to leave without a proper send-off. And being a musician, of course, Stan had written a song about him.

He cleared his throat into the microphone, which echoed through the empty room, and gave his guitar a soft, warm strum. Kyle looked up from where he was wiping tables, one eyebrow quirked in surprise.

Stan’s heart skipped a beat, but he forged ahead, his voice low and earnest as he began to sing.

“If I was a flower growing wild and free,
All I'd want is you to be my sweet honey bee…”

Kyle paused, rag frozen mid-wipe, his face softening as he watched Stan. Stan kept his gaze steady, pouring his heart into each line.

“And if I was a tree growing tall and green,
All I'd want is you to shade me and be my leaves…”

As the song went on, Kyle’s expression shifted from surprise to something softer, almost amused, but there was a sparkle in his eye that Stan didn’t miss.

“All I want is you, will you stay with me,
Hold me in your arms and sway me like the sea?”

By the time he reached the last verse, Stan could feel his own cheeks warming, but he didn’t look away. With a final strum, he sang the last words, his voice trailing off with a gentle vibrato.

“If you were a castle, I'd be your moat…
And if you were an ocean, I'd learn to float…”

He let the last note linger, watching Kyle for a reaction. Kyle shook his head with a laugh, setting down the rag and crossing his arms, his voice a mix of fondness and amusement.

“So,” he asked, “are you done serenading the staff for tonight?”

Stan chuckled, setting his guitar down. “Only if the staff lets me buy him a drink after.”

Kyle smiled, rolling his eyes. “Alright, Romeo. But just one.”

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Stan grinned, hopping down from the stage with his guitar in hand as he joined Kyle at the bar. Kyle, still shaking his head with a smirk, ducked behind the counter and grabbed two glasses.

“So,” Kyle said, filling both glasses. “What brought on that whole love ballad thing?”

Stan shrugged, attempting nonchalance. “Maybe I was just inspired by the best-looking bartender I know.”

Kyle’s smirk grew, though he tried to keep a straight face. “Uh-huh. That’s what you say to all the bartenders?”

Stan put a hand to his chest, feigning offense. “Oh, come on. You’ve gotta admit, I’m at least a little smoother than that.” He took a sip, watching Kyle over the rim of his glass. “Besides, I meant every word.”

Kyle leaned on the counter, his smile softening. “Well… in that case, maybe you’re not as hopeless as I thought.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, the bar’s dim lights casting a warm glow. Stan tapped his fingers along to an imaginary beat, glancing at Kyle every few seconds, hoping for some kind of sign, some hint that maybe his song had done more than just entertain.

Finally, Kyle cleared his throat, a bit of color creeping up his cheeks. “So… if you really meant it, all of it—what would that look like? You and me?”

Stan set down his glass, the smile on his face breaking into something softer. “Well, I’d probably still sing to you—though maybe not in front of an empty bar. I’d play you guitar while you make the world’s strongest coffee in the morning. I’d… probably keep writing cheesy songs about you because I just can’t help it.”

Kyle chuckled, looking down at his glass. “You’d have to do better than cheesy songs to keep me interested.”

Stan leaned forward, his voice dropping. “Is that a challenge?”

Kyle shrugged, eyes twinkling. “Only if you’re up for it.”

Stan grinned. “You just wait, then. I’ve got more songs up my sleeve than you can handle.” He raised his glass to toast, his eyes meeting Kyle’s with a playful glint. “Here’s to making you my muse.”

Kyle rolled his eyes but clinked his glass against Stan’s, a smile tugging at his lips. “I’ll drink to that.”

They sat there, sharing quiet conversation and laughter, as the empty bar around them hummed with the promise of something new.

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All i want is you by Barry Louis Polis

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