Prosper; Style Fanfic ~South Park~

Chapter Four

Stan's POV:

I walked through the stands, my hair was being kept back with some gel, just so that it wouldn't get in my way during the game. I couldn't think about anything other than Kyle and how he'd managed to make this all happen. This is the game that'll decide my future and I'm willing to win, for not only my sake, but for Kyle's.

"Look alive, Marsh," the head coach says, whacking my shoulder on my way past. I nod and pick up my helmet. I try to push it all away: the recruiters who will surely be in the crowd, the uncertainty of a future where I'll have to decide between colleges, my parents. I only want to think about Kyle. Kyle is a stickler for the rules, likes to play within clear boundaries. I will win tonight because I've got to support Kyle in his journey. And, hell, I might as well call the decision about college what it is: I'll go to whatever school is closest to or perhaps wherever Kyle is going, all other factors notwithstanding.

I smile, thinking this, strapping my helmet on. I'm not sure why I was confused on this point before, because it seems so obvious now. I get joy from football, but I get peace, ectascy, comfort, semi-intelligible lectures about string theory, and pretty much everything else from Kyle. Since my parents' divorce, Kyle has become something bigger, too: my real home, the place where I belong.

We step out onto the field, getting into our positions. The game starts without us even having the time to recollect on what was going on. I feel weightless and invincible, shooting through every attempt at defense like the Road Runner evading the Coyote.

I'm giddy by the fourth quarter, and can tell that my teammates are afraid to look me in the eye because they think they might jinx me; I can feel their elated energy anyway, and when the game is over – South Park on top, 49-7 – everyone abandons their superstitious humility and runs screaming at me, hoisting me above a spontaneous mosh pit.

As soon as I was let down, I shoved my way through the crowds, looking for a particular red-headed boy.

"STAN," Kyle screeched, tackling me down with more force than any player on the opposite team ever had.

"Damn, Kyle, you should really join football, you can tackle." I laughed.

"You won, you won, oh my god Stan, do you know what this means?!" He screamed, giddily smiling.

"Geez, you're happier for me than I am for myself." I scratched the back of my neck, sitting up.

"Seems like it, hey, wanna walk over to my house and celebrate with a movie and some snacks?" Kyle smiled for at least the tenth time since our conversation started.

"Of course I would," I stood up, offering a hand to Kyle who was still on the ground.

We walked through the field, fans still dispersing from the small game. Kyle bumped into Oscar, another one of my teammates. I could hear Kyle audibly growl underneath his breath. He shoved his way through the team, mumbling about how short he was compared to them.

That's another thing I loved about Kyle, he'd always been a hothead. For his size, he could really gaslight you and burn you down with a snap of a finger. Though, he was highly self-destructive and had to be careful. He'd often refuse help from people who had his best interests in mind, and I guess it came from his independent personality.

He was a beauty but a beast at the same time. You could sense the fire burning down the forest of his green eyes from the inside, and could tell he was holding back most times.

"Stan, we're here," Kyle said, sounding slightly ticked off.

"Oh, I didn't even notice, sorry." I laughed nervously.

"Yeah, we've been here for like, five minutes." He quoted, walking through the door and slipping his shoes off.

"Jesus Christ, I hate Colorado's weather sometimes." He mumbled as he turned the heater up.

"Same here," I followed his steps, turning on the tv and looking through his DVDs, trying to find a somewhat tolerable movie.

"How about Dirty Dancing?" He asked, slipping the case out of the bottom shelf.

"Yeah, that's a good one." I smiled, putting the disc into the DVD player.

We were quickly enveloped between a Blanket. Popcorn, gummy candies, and a 2-liter of Coke that we didn't mind sharing were laid scattered across the table. We got towards the love scene between Baby and Johnny when out of the blue, Kyle decided to spark up a whole new conversation.

"Have you ever wondered what it's like to kiss a guy," Kyle asked. "I mean, I've never kissed anyone, not even a girl, but you've kissed Wendy before right, what does it feel like?"

"Well, I guess it's special for everyone. I've never kissed anyone before, not even Wendy." I shrugged.

"Oh," Kyle shrugged. "I guess I'll never know the feeling either then, I don't like any girl in the entirety of South Park."

"It doesn't have to be a girl, Kyle."

"What are you saying?"

"How about you try it with me?" I asked, swallowing my pride. "Y'know, just Incase we ever kiss anyone, we'll have experience."

"Yeah, no homo?"

"No homo."

"So how does it go?"

"I think it's a little.. like.. this.." I whispered, leaning closer to him, shutting my eyes as our lips pressed together, pulling away after a few seconds, shifting so that Kyle was on my lap.

"I think I liked that." He whispered.

"Same here," I smiled, leaning in for another kiss.

We did what we felt was natural, our lips moving in sync, our minds were in the same place, we were on the same page. The music from the movie was playing softly in the background, giving us a calm and safe setting.

"Stan?" Kyle asked after pulling away.

"Yeah?"

"Homo?"

"Definitely," I assured, leaning into what was our third kiss that night.

Very homo.