You Can Bet Your Wife on It - tachixneko (2024)

Chapter 1: Chapter One- The Bet

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“Dude, I didn’t know there was a weight limit on the PS5.” laughed Stan as he threw his helmet on the locker room bench. Stan’s father had been so proud when his son made the varsity football team his freshman year of high school and now it was junior year and if South Park High had a star athlete, it was probably Stan Marsh. Stan had shot up to a little over six feet, though that number would vary depending on who was asking how tall he was. He was also in the best shape of his life, cut and stringy in the way only a high school jock could pull off.

It was the end of the first home game of the season and the South Park Cows had eked out a victory against the North Park Indians. Now the boys were in the locker room getting changed before a night out celebrating at a house party at Clyde’s.

“Eh, f*ck you, Stan. You’re just jealous that you’re too poor for one PS5, meanwhile I have two.” gloated Cartman. Cartman hadn’t exactly slimmed down since elementary school, but instead had bulked up with muscle too. He was built like a brick sh*thouse and that made him an invaluable player on the football team.

“What are you even going to do with two PS5s?” questioned Craig. He didn’t want to be too invested in any sh*t that Cartman was going to pull, but after years hanging out together, he knew that there was little stopping a Cartman scheme once it was underway. The best thing he could hope for was to find out what it was, so he could avoid the worst of it. Craig had also grown up to be a handsome guy, though he still sported his signature resting bitch face.

“Oh, I don’t know. Bribe some bums to fight over it. Maybe pressure a really desperate mom into giving me a thousand bucks and some head for it. Or maybe, I will just keep it to make you guys feel like sh*t.” mused Cartman, wide eyed and holding his finger pensively to his mouth. Suddenly, he feigned surprise and out came his idea.

“I know. How about we have a little bet? Whichever one of you dumbass jocks can get a fa*ggy band kid to fall in love with you first, can have my PS5. I know at least one poor piece of white trash that will do it.” Cartman grinned and looked towards the doorway of the showers.

“Hell yeah, brother. I’ll do it. Just what am I doing?” smirked Kenny. Kenny was tall, lanky and currently wrapped only in a towel around his waist as he had just finished a quick shower. When Kenny smiled there was a gap in his front teeth and a mischievous glimmer in his eye that hinted at all the wild sh*t he was down for. There was a reason people assumed Kenny had died all those times. He had a knack for getting out of scrapes that seemed inhumanly possible. Also glimmering were a variety of facial piercings: snake bites, left eyebrow, gauged ears with two more holes up the side. Rumor had it that his dick was also pierced. Kenny said that he knew a guy, but most suspected he did them himself, like his tattoo of his sister’s name on his waist.

“f*cking a fat chick.” called out Clyde, a little ironically because Clyde wasn’t exactly skinny himself. He wasn’t as big as Cartman, but he had the sort of soft jock body that was going to absolutely go to pot once he started college. If he went to college. Clyde’s skills were definitely not academic.

“I’ll do that for free.” shrugged Kenny. This surprised no one because besides being poor and getting into trouble, Kenny was also known to be a slu*t. He would f*ck for money if needed some, but he loved sex and often gave it away for free. Long-term relationships didn’t interest Kenny because he was here for a good time, not a long time.

“f*cking a cripple.” shouted Tolkein. Tolkein had been pressured to join the football team because all the hick adults in South Park assumed that a black kid would naturally be a great athlete. Alas, he was not. But Tolkein was a decent athlete and a close enough friend with all the guys on the team that no one really seemed bothered.

“Oh man, charity work.” joked Kenny, “I will put that on my application for the National Honor Society. They will let me go to college for free for being the most caring manwhor*.”

“No. f*cking a guy.” said Stan as he slammed his locker shut and glared at Cartman.

“That is also something in my roster.” replied Kenny.

“Oh Stan, poor poor Stan. My sweet summer child.” lamented Cartmen as he hung his head in disappointment. “We are not talking about sex. Sex is easy. Eeehh shut the f*ck up. I have just as much sex as the rest of you guys, probably more you f*cking virgins. Anyway, as I was saying, not sex but what is more powerful? Love. I dare all of you to make a fa*ggy band kid fall in love with you and admit it. The first person who does, can have my PS5. And don’t think you can fake it, I know these things, matters of the heart.”

“What if we don’t want to participate?” hazarded Craig, already knowing that wasn’t an option.

“Well, if that is the case, not only do you not get my PS5, but I will also be personally emailing your parents your internet history.” stated Cartman.

“You don’t even have our internet history, assface.” retorted Stan as he scowled at Cartman.

“Oh, I do not need your real internet history, Stan. All of our parents are too f*cking dumb to realize if I just send them random p*rn and tell them it’s your internet history.” Cartman was stating the truth too. The parents of South Park were not known for their brilliance and over the years had been swindled by a number of schemes, both by Cartman and from outside the town.

“Well, I am going to politely ask to be left out,” said Tolkein. “ I already have a PS5 and I have a girlfriend.” Nichole and Tolkein had been dating since elementary school and even though the optics of having the only two black kids date each other wasn’t great for diversity, they were also the healthiest couple in high school and no one was going to challenge them on that.

“Fine, fine.” scoffed Cartman as he rolled his eyes. “Now, for the rest of you. Because this is my dare, I get to choose who your victims will be.” He chuckled and rubbed his hand maniacally.

“Have you been planning this for a while?” questioned Stan as he narrowed his eyes to look down both figuratively and literally on Cartman. Stan and Cartman had stayed friends over the years, despite all of the sh*t Cartman pulled, and Stan wouldn’t say that he trusted Cartman.

“No! Of course not!” barked Cartman. “I just happen to be really good at this sort of thing.” He made his face into a little pout. “But I guess you really just want your parents seeing all the midget p*rn you watch, after all.”

Stan sighed and rolled his eyes, “Goddamnit, Cartman. Just tell us.” He was resigning to his fate. Maybe he could just pretend to pretend to like some guy, just to get Cartman off his back. He didn’t have to take this too seriously.

“Okay, fine. We will start with the obvious one: Craig you need to reunite with Tweek.” Cartman looked eagerly at Craig to gauge his reaction.

“I am not sure that’s fair to Tweek.” replied Craig, whose poker face betrayed no hint of how the boy might actually feel about rekindling things with his former fake boyfriend.

Craig and Tweek had been fake boyfriends until the end of sixth grade. Maybe it wasn’t pretend because the boys had spent much of their time together holding hands, confiding in each other and enjoying the mutual company. But an elementary school relationship was not the place to determine true feelings and by the time Tweek moved away with his parents, both boys were sad but equally confused. Most of the kids at school had accepted that the relationship was just to appease the fangirls, after Clyde had blabbed to the whole school that Craig admitted it started as a ruse, but Craig never really knew how it had ended. It sure did feel real for a fake relationship.

Tweek had moved to Denver with his parents at the end of sixth grade when his parents decided to expand their coffee business into a franchise. It seemed to do pretty well and there were now several dozen Tweek Bros. Coffee shops across the state of Colorado and the western portion of the United States. Tweek’s family had moved back to South Park over the summer and Tweek was now back at school with his old friends. He had been accepted back into the fold relatively easily, but there was clearly some tension with the distance between Tweek and Craig that had developed over time. Neither Craig nor Tweek knew how to breach it, so they acted like acquaintances during lunchtimes and hangouts.

“You did it once, Craig, you can do it again,” shrugged Cartman. “ Now for everyone’s favorite fa*gs: Stan you need to convice Kyle to love you, which honestly shouldn’t even be hard because you two were butt buddies forever.”

“No! No! Absolutely not, dude.” yelled Stan, his face getting red. Stan and Kyle had once been so close that butt buddies were what a lot of people, including Stan’s father Randy, assumed them to be. But sometime in junior high, something had happened that killed their friendship. Not just killed, but brutally slaughtered with blood and guts and hurt feelings. Kyle had tearfully told Stan that he couldn’t be friends anymore before slamming the door in his face and that was it. A childhood friendship of sleepovers and weekends together ended. Stan had tried the whole rest of the summer of eighth grade to get Kyle to talk to him again but to no avail. Kyle now hung out with the other nerds, like Butters, and Stan stayed with the jocks.

“Don’t be a little puss*, Stan,” mocked Cartman. “Rekindle that flame with your fa*ggy little lover boy. He’s literally gay, how hard could it be?” Kyle had come out shortly after freshman year began and for a while he dated David. It seemed like they were now just friends though, meaning Stan wouldn’t have to be a homewrecker.

In fact, now that Stan thought about it, this could work to his advantage. If he showed Cartman that he was trying to romance Kyle, then he wouldn’t have to deal with his dumbass parents getting torrents worth of p*rn dumped in their inboxes and maybe he could actually repair things with his super best friend. Stan smiled to himself. “Okay, fine. I will do it,” he sighed.

“Woo-hoo!” hollered Kenny. “And who do I get the pleasure of wetting my dick in?”

“Butters.” said Cartman.

“Butters? That seems kind of mean,” worried Kenny. He and Butters still sometimes hangout with Cartman, though between his scholastic responsibilities and constant groundings Butters wasn’t usually available. Still, Kenny liked Butters. Not liked liked Butters, but he liked Butters as a friend and didn’t want to hurt the poor kid’s feelings.

“Don’t grow a heart now, trailer trash.” huffed Cartman. “ Butter will probably be over the moon that anyone would like him. Plus, once you get that PS5, then you can let him down easy. Or hard? Or dick him down hard. I don’t really give a f*ck.”

“And what about me?” interrupted Clyde.

“Oh, I don’t care. How about Scott?” said Cartman, rolling his eyes and waving his hands dismissively. “‘I’m Scott Malkinson and I hath diabetes.’” he mimicked for the full effect and the whole group chuckled.

“Oh, okay, well I guess since Bebe and I are taking a break. I can try to date Scott.” sighed Clyde. Clyde and Bebe were on a break more often than not and while Clyde’s himbo energy made him pretty popular amongst the girls in South Park, he never really dated anyone else seriously.

“Okay. Then it’s settled. Everyone has their assignments and even though you are mostly dumbasses, I think at least one of you should be able to ace this one.” Cartman waited until the rest of the boys had finished changing and were on their way to the parking lot to grab their cars before he darkly chuckled to himself.

“Yes, my perfect plan. Once I get these fa*gs…and Clyde, all fa*gged up then there will be no more competition for me. Wendy Testaburger, you will be mine.” Cartman had never completely gotten over his and Wendy’s passionate affair during their elementary school debate days and that fire only burned brighter now that they were both on the high school debate team and he could watch the dirty she-hippie command the stage for whatever her cause. And honestly, if his friends benefitted from all of this, then that was secretly okay with him too.

Chapter 2: Chapter 2 - Bunny Tutor Set Up

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The weekend passed uneventfully and for all four of the sleep deprived competitors the first bell of school came all too soon. The party on Friday had come and went and the only sign someone outside of the team would have had that there was something off was the slightly distant energy the boys exuded during the night. The most obvious example being Kenny McCormick, who for once ended the party in his own bed.

“Hey, Butters~” sing-songed Kenny as he slammed himself against the locker adjacent to Butters’. Kenny figured that he shouldn’t waste any time getting this challenge off and running, especially since Butters was virtually unreachable outside of school. He still felt some slight guilt at leading on someone as innocent as Butters, who had only ever been friendly with Kenny and the gang, despite all of the bullsh*t they had put him through. There was still a faint scar over his left eye, where Kenny himself had struck Butters with a shuriken. Still, Butters willingly hung out with both Kenny and Cartman, assuming he wasn’t grounded at the time.

“Oh gee, Ken. You scared the bejesus outta me,” startled Butters. He lightly bit his bottom lip, which was full and soft looking and Kenny was certain that he could find places for it to go. Kenny quickly shook those thoughts away with a literal toss off his head that shook his shaggy blond hair. Butters was as pretty as a girl. It was no wonder he had been able to pull off Marjorine so well. Kenny didn’t discriminate based on gender but he did love a beautiful person. Butters, with his pouty face and soft light blond hair, that was long at the top and shaved at the sides, could be dangerous if he knew just how gorgeous he was, but his parents had done such a good job convincing him that he was trouble that Butters felt lucky whenever anyone paid him attention.

Kenny might have played a princess once during one of the neighborhood games, but Butters lived that life. Beautiful and trapped in a tower guarded by two overprotective parents, more vicious than any dragon. Kenny would love to be his knight in shining armor, but judging by how poor Kenny’s family was and the disdain the Stotch’s felt toward the McCormicks, Kenny was pretty sure he was just a stable boy, even in this fantasy.

Kenny knew that even from a distance his breath probably smelled like cigarettes because, as Cartman loved to point out, he was too poor for a f*cking vape. Kenny needed a cigarette each morning, while sitting in the worn down seat of his ‘94 Chevy Silverado in the school parking lot. He knew he should stop smoking, he wasn't actually invincible, but this was an almost zen moment in his otherwise chaotic life. He loved Karen more than anything else in the world, including himself on that list, but being at home felt like a never ending shift at the world’s sh*ttiest Waffle House. Kevin had left as soon as he turned 17 and hadn’t been heard from since. This meant that it was him and Karen against the world and his sometimes employed, sometimes incarcerated parents. Moments at school with his friends were balm for the stress and Butters was enough to make Kenny feel drunk on his sweetness.

Butters was looking at Kenny and brushing his knuckles against each other. A nervous habit that he had never grown out of and now his knuckles were slightly red. Kenny reached out a hand to grab one of Butters’ and stop him from inadvertently hurting himself. Butter’s hand was soft and small and it curled up inside of Kenny’s warm and dry hands. Kenny was a bit of hypocrite to worry about Butters’ hands when his own were welted with old scars, but it felt nice to touch Butters, like holding a small animal and feeling its warmth.

The interaction held on a beat too long with Kenny enjoying this small world with Butters, when he noticed Butters was getting embarrassed and a red flush was dusting across his face and up his ears. Kenny could have nipped at those ears right then and there, but he needed to slow down, just because he wanted to sleep with Butters didn’t mean that Butters felt the same. Butters was wide eyed innocence and that purity was part of his appeal. Instead, he ran his tongue over his sharp teeth and grinned back at the slightly shorter blond boy.

“Aw, heck, I am sorry for scaring ya, Butters,” Kenny apologized. “I just haven’t seen you since Friday and that’s an awfully long time to go without seeing sunshine.” He winked and Butters gave a light, but earnest laugh that earned him a bigger, goofier grin from Kenny. Kenny slowly pulled his hand from the other boys and idly scratched the back of his neck.

“I was just wondering if you had any free time this week to help me out with something.” Butters raised his eyebrows and tilted his head. Kenny contemplated leaning in to kiss him or maybe just killing himself on the spot because what was he getting into. Instead, Kenny pushed on “Well, my grades in math are kind of sh*t and seeing as how you are the smartest boy I know, I was hoping you could find some time to tutor me. You might even be able to convince your parents to let you stay late after school for community service.”

“I’d love ta service ya.” said Butters, completely oblivious to connotations of such a statement, “But I doubt I am the smartest boy you know. You’re still friends with Kyle, ain’t ya?”

Kenny thought about this statement, well mostly he thought about the former statement and how he’d love to walk Butters through all the services he had to offer, but Kenny did move on to consider if Kyle was still his friend. Kyle wasn’t not his friend, but when the chasm of eighth grade occurred, he had ended up on the side with Stan and Cartman. Kyle had moved on to hangout with Tolkein and the other students on the debate team, sans Cartman, who was his sworn rival.

Sure he and Kyle were still friendly, but he had rarely hung out with just Kyle before everything went down and afterwards, he didn’t feel close enough to ask Kyle what Stan had done to f*ck up their friendship. Of course, it had to be Stan who had ruined everything. Kenny might have been his friend, but he wasn’t blind to all of Stan’s faults, mainly his denial that Wendy might not be the answer to all his problems and the bouts of depression and binge drinking that this inspired. Stan hadn’t ever fully recovered from losing Kyle, even if he wouldn’t admit it, and watching Stan struggle was painful for all his friends, even Cartman, who probably had set this whole thing up as a ruse just to reunite the boys.

“I think you’re smarter than Kyle,” whispered Kenny as he leaned closer to Butters, “But don’t ever tell Kyle that because he will murder me for real.” He wiggled an eyebrow at Butters with this statement.

Butters laughed again, and nervously tugged a strand of hair. He shyly acquiesced to tutoring Kenny but of course he would have to get permission from his parents and that couldn’t happen until after school because texting during school was not allowed and he would be grounded for flouting school rules. Kenny told him that he could take as much time as he needed but that he wasn’t going to give up on him (tutoring him) because he really needed it.

“I really need you Butters.” Kenny said one last time in a husky voice that appeared to go straight down Butters’ spine and pool in his groin, if Butters’ subtle shift of his legs was any indication. Kenny tugged on one of lip piercings with his teeth and his eyes flash with hunger before crinkling into good humor. The second bell suddenly buzzed and with that Butters was muttering an apology of a goodbye and was jogging to his first class. Kenny admired the view.

His high from the conversation was cut short when he felt a heavy arm fall across his back and a deep sigh hit the shell of his ear. It was Stan. It was always Stan. Stan was a stage five clinger and no one had the patience Kyle had had when it came to Stan’s need for physical attention, not even Wendy and this had been the reason they had broken up several times before. Of course, maybe this was the reason why Kyle had told Stan to leave his front step and “never f*cking talk to him again.” It probably was at least somehow related.

“I can’t f*cking do this, Kenny” whined Stan. “I literally can not. Kyle hates me. He will always hate me and this stupid dare isn’t going to fix any of that.” Stan scrunched up his eyebrows until they nearly met his slightly greasy bangs peeking out from underneath the knit hat he still wore after all these years.

Kenny might have ditched the hood in sixth grade, but winter hats were always in fashion in South Park, Colorado if the student body of the high school was any example. Ironically, Kyle still wore his ushanka, but he was very self conscious about his hair and the only times he wore it natural, he tied it back in a loose ponytail. He was unmissable on game nights, his halo of Jew fro frizz standing out like a beacon. Cartman made sure to comment on it every time.

“Well, your dad is the world’s biggest dumbass, so you are going to have to play along.” said Kenny and they both knew this was true. “And speak of the devil, here is your ginger now.”

Chapter 3: Chapter 3 - Style Tutor Set up

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Kyle marched through the hallway with a combination of sunken shoulders of an anxious teenager and a straight back from the proverbial stick up his ass. His hat was tugged tightly down on his unruly hair and Doc Martens thudded heavily against the linoleum. He was lanky at six foot four, a height that neither of his parents could account for and he wasn’t even the adopted one. Freckles highlighted his cheekbones and Jewish nose, much to his chagrin. He gripped the straps of his backpack and chewed on his lower lip, forcing himself to stare straight ahead as he passed Kenny and Stan, who stood together, obviously conspiring.

It had been a long time since he had let himself miss hanging out with his old crew, but sometimes his unloyal heart still panged if he caught sight of them all together without warning. Even Cartman, who he still considered to be his arch nemesis and the biggest ass in school. The second biggest ass, well that would be Stan Marsh himself.

As if Stan had heard the pounding of Kyle’s heart, he turned to boldfaced stare at Kyle. Stan’s blue eyes were a little watery with nerves and he was holding his breath. Kyle glared back at him from the corner of his eyes. If he had let Stan’s puppy dog eyes work on him before, he would never have been able to keep their separation permanent. Stan was a jerk and the fact he didn’t even acknowledge his own assholeishness was a point Kyle would come back to in moments of weakness. True to his redhaired nature, Kyle was still as stubborn and passionate as he had been when he was younger, though he now channeled this energy into debate and only occasionally fights on Reddit.

Apparently, Stan had yet to receive the memo to stop trying to reach out to Kyle though, because he was back at it again with the longing looks during lunch time. Kyle was sitting with Tolkein, Craig, Tweek, Clyde, and Jimmy. This had been his group for years now, but some people still referred to it as “Kyle’s new group.” It was that sort of behavior that would really work Kyle up. He was his own person. He didn’t come in a set. He wasn’t even going to stay in South Park after graduation. He had his sights on West Coast Ivies and the freedom that came with liberal coasts.

Everyone knew he was gay. He had dated David for two years, from the end of eighth grade to the beginning of tenth. But when you are gay in a small town, you end up getting put into a box. Craig and Tweek had been the gay couple in elementary school, then Kyle and David, but sometimes it felt like the town was only tolerant enough for one pair of gay kids at a time. As academic pressures increased and David preferred soccer to Kyle, another gay couple, this time girls, sprang up in the grade below them, and Kyle took this as a universal sign that he and David had outworn their welcome. Now he figured he would just be celibate until college.

“Nngh.. your boyfriend is staring at you!” shouted Tweek with a twitch of his face. Despite Tweek having left town for the past couple years, he came back into the fold with surprising ease. He would still get occasionally anxious, but he no longer had wild stories of underpants gnomes or North Korean dictators out to get him. Kyle casually wondered if he and Craig would get back together. Craig had said before that they weren’t really dating, but he never elaborated on if that was because he considered them too young or if it was all a ruse to appease the yaoi fangirls. Craig certainly didn’t seem opposed to getting back together with Tweek, if his soft glances at the shorter guy were any gauge.

Kyle sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, “ Look, I am going to cut you some slack because I know you were gone for junior high” and because he didn’t trust Craig not to totally beat his ass if he so much as slapped Tweek. “But Stan is not my boyfriend. He’s not even my friend. He’s free to look at whatever he chooses in this cafeteria, but I am not going to acknowledge him.” Tweek’s eyebrows shot up and he muttered a quick sorry. Craig patted Tweek on the back without even thinking about this motion.

At this Clyde made a small smile to himself and chuckled. Craig and Kyle immediately clocked it but for different reasons though both shot him looks that could easily kill. Craig didn’t need Clyde f*cking up and telling the boys at the table about the bet. It would just upset Tweek to know he was a part of Cartman’s games and the idea of upsetting Tweek really did piss Craig off. Kyle just assumed it was Clyde not taking him seriously and when Clyde didn’t apologize, Kyle saw red and just swung.

“What the f*ck is so funny, you asshole!?” roared Kyle as his fist met Clyde’s face. His face was just as red as he felt and without Stan’s touches to ground him, Kyle had had to learn to self soothe. He rubbed his fist with his other hand and took deep breaths.

“What the f*ck, Kyle? What the f*ck, man?” Clyde said as he started to tear up. Clyde was a big guy but he was still a hair trigger when it came to waterworks. “I was thinking about something funny I saw on TikTok last night. It didn’t even have to do with you. Jesus.” Craig was a little impressed that Clyde came up with that save all on his own, but that was probably maximum use of his brain power for the day and Craig made a note to keep an eye on him to make sure he didn’t slip up later in the day. Kyle seemed to have bought the lie and he looked genuinely sorry when he apologized.

In fact, Kyle had assumed that was going to be the lowest part of his day, punching Clyde over a TikTok, but that was quickly replaced when someone took the seat next to him in health class. That person was Stan. Kyle made himself smaller in his own desk, a feat that was virtually impossible given his height, but refused to look at the boy beside him.

“Hey.” Stan said shyly, ignoring the obvious effort on Kyle’s part to ignore him. Stan's leg began to shake with nerves and took a deep breath. “ IknowyousaidtonevertalktoyouagainbutIneedhelpinEnglish. If I don’t get my grades up, then I am off the team and I know you are really good at English.” Stan caught his breath and Kyle worked out what Stan had just asked him.

“Why don’t you just ask Wendy? Or Cartman?” hissed back Kyle with a scowl. This was a response though and Stan took it for an in.

“Well Wendy and I are kind of on a break right now.” he nervously chuckled, but Kyle’s eyes narrowed. Being told he was the first second choice was not what he wanted to hear. “But I also think you are just better at teaching. In seventh grade, when you saved my science grade, it was all thanks to your explanations.” Stan blushed a little recalling this memory. The two of them studying together late into the night. It had felt so natural. It had felt like it would always be the two of them against the world. “And you know I cannot ask Cartman for a favor. He would probably make me eat a testicl*, possibly mine.”

Kyle laughed at this, though Stan didn’t know if it was because Kyle thought it was a funny joke or because he got a sick glee imagining Stan eating his own testis. Kyle’s voice had lowered with puberty, but when he laughed there was high, nasally twinge at the end that warmed Stan’s heart to hear again. There were no punches being thrown and Stan could work with this. Stan wasn’t much for hard labor but to reach Kyle, he felt like he could scale a mountain, even if it was just a stiff conversation.

“So, do you think you could find the time to help me? You do not have to be my friend again. Hell, I will even pay you if that would convince you.” Stan stumbled through his request.

“Is that a Jew joke?” Kyle said, narrowing his eyes.

“f*ck, no!” shouted Stan, turning red from embarrassment and his stomach feeling a little sick from the idea that he had f*cked things up so soon after trying.

But Kyle just laughed at him, “I know, dude. It’s fine. I will even tutor you for free,” and with that admission, Kyle’s ears turned a little pink, but since they were hidden under the flaps of his ushanka, no one saw.

Chapter 4: Chapter 4 - Scyde Tutor Up & Craig's Thoughts

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Clyde had not had the chance to speak to Scott all day and now, at the final bell, he raced over to Scott’s locker to catch him before he left. Scott had occasionally hung out with Craig’s friend group over the years, though less so when Tweek moved away. The remaining boys had been focused on sports and Scott didn’t seem to have a place with them. Scott had spent more time hanging out with the other boys in the marching band, like Butters and Kyle, which came easy because they spent so much time after school together at practices and games. Scott had also dated Sophie Gray throughout junior high, until she decided that he was holding her back in social standing. She promised they would still be friends and technically they were, but now they only ever talked briefly in the halls or through texts.

“Hey, Scott, Scott Malkinson!” shouted Clyde, so loudly that the whole hallway and maybe the whole school could hear. With that outburst, Scott shot Clyde a terrified look and then hardened his face. Most of the bullying towards Scott had always been verbal, but that didn’t make it that much less painful. After a long day of classes, Scott wasn’t ready for any teasing that was going to come his way.

Clyde was oblivious to Scott’s hesitancy though and once he had reached the smaller boy, he continued, “ I need your help…” but he trailed off because he did not really know what he needed Scott’s help with. Scott was clumped with the other nerds mostly because he played the oboe in band and because of his generally uncool demeanor, but he didn’t have Kyle’s brains or Butters dedication to studying. Clyde looked down at his feet as he contemplated how to finish his request.

Scott watched the bigger jock, but mistook his downward glance, not to be at the floor, but towards his soft tummy, pushing against his cotton tee. Scott’s eyes widened. “Oh my gosh, do you need my help with diabeteth?” he asked.

Clyde became very red in the face in response to that remark and stood up straighter while sucking in his gut. “No. Scott, I don’t have diabetes. I am not even that fat.” He couldn’t make eye contact with Scott because he was always embarrassed about being the second fattest kid in the grade, a title he could never seem to shake off or grow out of. Clyde scrunched his eyebrows up, “I need help with math. I thought you might be able to help me with math. “

Scott tilted his head to the side in confusion, which paired with his tongue that seemed too big for his mouth and usually rested on his bottom lip, was a sight that was so cute that Clyde’s heart did do an involuntary leap into his stomach, but Clyde didn’t have the bandwidth to process that reaction because he was too focused on his mission.

“Oh, I gueth I can help with math. I mean, ith that’s what you really want.” Scott answered. “Do you want me to help you afthter school?”

“Yeah, yeah. That’d be great.” replied Clyde, nodding his head vigorously. “But not today, obviously, I have football practice. How about tomorrow?”

“Thure, I gueth I will sthee you then.” Scott said as he walked toward the front entrance to leave for the day.

“Damn, loverboy.” deadpanned Craig, coming up behind Clyde. The pair didn’t make eye contact, but Clyde knew the comment was targeted at him. Clyde shrugged it off with a dopey grin.

Craig and Clyde had been best friends since forever. Of course, there was Tolkein, but he would never truly understand what it was like to be poor white trash in a poor white trash town. His parents had money and he knew that he didn’t have to stay here. That’s why football could be a hobby for him and not the only promise of a way out. And that is also why Clyde was Craig’s best friend.

It was Clyde who found out that Craig was gay first, even before Tweek. Clyde had cried, which was kind of embarrassing. He did not mean it out of any sort of anger or fear towards Craig. Clyde just got caught up in all the things that they would not be able to do together, like prom dates and bachelor parties and being each other’s best men at their wedding. Craig told him that they were eleven so that he really needed to f*ck off and also, why couldn’t Craig still have all those things? Clyde accepted that response and got over the whole being gay thing pretty quick afterwards.

It made sense really. Rules were stupid at the least and a real pain in Craig’s ass in the most; so why follow rules about who to date? Girls were pretty, but girls were full of rules. How to talk to them. How to treat them. What to say on certain days and what gifts to buy even if they said no gifts. It was exhausting. Guys made sense. Guys made even more sense the older he got and the better boys looked in comparison.

Pissing off people just for existing was also kind of sweet. Craig’s dad had not been happy to hear that his son was gay and even though he had mellowed out with time, Craig knew that it still pissed him off. Craig couldn’t resist poking the bear by saying a guy was hot while they were out for a family dinner at a restaurant in public or introducing himself to his father’s acquaintances as the “fa*ggot son.” Every time he heard his dad hitch his breath or grimace, it was a win in Craig’s book.

Craig had never straight up told Tweek that he was gay though. Things had worked so well for them during their fake relationship, that Craig hadn’t over thought it. It was once Tweek moved away that Craig realized that maybe it wasn’t just the closest friendship that he had ever had, but something more. Sure, they had held hands and kissed while they were dating, but who hadn’t practiced with their friends out of curiosity and to gain experience? Tweek had never said anything about being gay either, so Craig only felt a little guilty for not telling him.

After Tweek had left, Craig had only dated one other guy. Thomas had tourettes and to Craig, it was kind of hot to see him just go off randomly, even if he knew that it was probably f*cked up to like someone for a condition they had and couldn’t control. He liked tightly wound blonds that couldn’t keep their energy contained. Tweek had been Craig’s chaos demon. A bundle of twitches and yelps and wild ideas. He was a personified firecracker and if Craig handled him wrong, he would get burnt. Tweek growled when he was pissed off and had bit Craig more than once. He wasn’t afraid to tell Craig to f*ck off and whack him in the arm, when needed.

Thomas had reminded Craig of Tweek, but Thomas had wanted to be normal. He avoided public situations that might create a scene and he apologized for his tics. Thomas eventually recognized his own discomfort with Craig’s fondness for him and they broke up. Craig figured he was probably just too f*cked up to date and that was fine anyway. This town was sh*t and so were the people in it.

And then Tweek came back to South Park and it was like an angel fell to Earth (or an imp sprang up from Hell). He hadn’t even told any of the guys he was coming back. Craig just walked into junior year to see the blond boy struggling with his locker. Tweek had jerkily slammed the locker shut on his thumb, screamed out some expletives and put his thumb in his mouth to soothe the pain. It was at that moment the two made eye contact and Craig realized that nothing about his feelings had changed. Tweek then smiled at Craig and had Craig been a lesser, more expressive guy he would have burst into flames. Instead, he lifted the corner of his lip and nodded his head. Just like that, Tweek was back. He sat at their table, he hung out at Tolkein’s house on the weekends, and worked at his parents cafe when he had the free time.

Craig had only just started hanging out alone with Tweek again, when Eric proposed that dumbass bet. Craig knew it was probably going to ruin his life. Tweek was going to find out about the bet and freak out. But Craig also couldn’t convince himself to give Tweek space. If there was room in Tweek’s life, Craig wanted to be there.

Chapter 5: Chapter 5 - Bunny Tutoring

Chapter Text

Tucked away in the corner of the library was a solid mahogany table and at that table sat two blond boys. The one on the right side of the table was curled over a book, used to making himself look small, while the boy on the left stretched back so far that it tilted the chair and his arms behind his head, almost lounging.

“So uh, Ken, you said you needed tutoring, but what actually do you want help with?” stuttered Butters as his eyes flashed to the sliver of abs and the hair that trailed down them beneath the hem of Kenny’s shirt that had risen up. His eyes couldn’t miss the flash of cheap mall jewelry from Kenny’s belly button piercing. No other guy that Butters knew would ever think of getting such a girly piercing, but somehow it worked on Kenny’s lanky torso. Kenny was definitely a guy and Butters liked that about him, even if he knew his parents would be mighty sore if they knew that, but Kenny could also be pretty, like when he was a princess in their fantasy games growing up. Butters licked his lips at the sudden thought of putting his mouth around that piece of metal and he shook his head vigorously as if to wipe away the idea.

The movement caught Kenny’s attention and he brought the chairlegs back down to the floor as he leaned across the table. “ Anything really- math, English, science. I really am a dumbass.”

“That’s not true.” huffed Butters, getting offended on Kenny’s behalf. “You’re smart! You know all sorts of things. You know how to fix all sorts-a stuff, like your car, and you know how to pull off all those tricks with Eric. I reckon that you might be the smartest guy I know, mister.”

Kenny couldn’t help the blush that spread on his cheeks as he rolled his eyes at this statement. Of course Butters would think that all of the sh*t he learned to do to survive being poor made him clever. Butters didn’t have to know these things. Butters was cared for. Despite his parents being absolute tyrants, they made sure Butters had the best of what they could afford and deemed developmentally appropriate. Butters had a saxophone tutor. Butters went to boy scout camp over the summers. Butters did not have to work an afterschool job.

This was one of the reasons Kenny always felt a little guilty hitting on Butters. Kenny hit on everyone. That was common knowledge. And a lot of people would brush him off and those that didn’t he might pursue in earnest. Kenny was good at reading people. He knew Butters felt something toward him. He saw the blushes that started at the tip of his nose and spread across his soft cheeks or the shuffling of how he sat on the couch at Cartman’s house, when Kenny went a little too far.

But Kenny could not take Butters all the way. It wouldn’t be fair to Butters. Butters would never be interested in a casual hookup and honestly, Kenny couldn’t imagine anything casual with Butters. Even his hottest dreams of the smaller blond consisted of domestic fantasies with Butters only in an apron and the pair going at it on top of their dining room table in their own apartment. Kenny knew it was their apartment, even if it was only the background of a dream. Butters was just so warm and comforting. Kenny craved it. Kenny also knew that it wasn’t for him. McCormicks don’t get comfort, unless it’s getting high.

“Well, thank you for the support.” joked Kenny. “I think I am going to have you be my spokesperson next time I go to interview for a job. As for what to study, I guess we can start with science. Who knew there would be so much math in a science class? I miss cutting up the animals.”

Butters grimaced at this because biology had not been fun for Butters. Cartman had stolen a whole bucket of frogs from the science lab and while most of them had ended up in one of the wells of the cafeteria right before lunch, many had also ended up in Butters’ things - his locker, his shoes, his bed. It had only stopped when Kenny had threatened to reenact a certain scene from The Godfather with Clyde Frog if Cartman didn’t throw those f*cking frogs out. Butters was still a little queasy about seeing frogs now.

But Butters powered on from this memory and began to quiz Kenny on what he understood in physics just to get a baseline of where the boy was at. Kenny did not get all the answers thrown at him correct, but he did not seem to be struggling enough to threaten his position on the football team. Butters wouldn’t call Ken a liar though, and he certainly wouldn’t pass up a chance to hangout with the boy. He grinned to himself that he was able to hangout with Kenny, despite his parents obvious dislike of him.

“Watcha smilin about Buttercup?” asked Kenny as he looked up from his physics textbook,saw Butters’ big mischievous grin and matched it with his own sly, gap toothed grin. “You like physics that much?”

“Oh, geeze, sorry Ken, I wasn’t even thinkin about physics.” sighed Butters as he nervously rubbed his knuckles together. “I was thinking about you.”

“Do I have clothes on in these thoughts?” flirted Kenny with a waggle of his eyebrows and Butters turned bright crimson. He was so startled that it took him a moment to compose himself and give a reply.

“I wasn’t thinking about you naked, buster. I was just thinking about how lucky I am to hangout with you after school. My parents know I am staying late to tutor, but I told them I was tutoring Kevin Stoley. I even got Kevin to agree to lie for me if I need him to. I just have to give him a couple of answers to the next math quiz during lunch since I have math in the morning and Kevin’s got math in the afternoon.” Butters looked pretty smug about the deceit he had pulled on his parents.

“Well, Butters, you sly dog,” drawled Kenny. “This isn’t going to help the idea your parents have of me being a bad influence on you.” An especially ironic idea considering Cartman wasn’t even held to the same standards of moral righteousness by the Stotchs, despite probably being the most evil person Kenny knew. Cartman had always been better at lying to adults when he needed to.

Butters was even more worked up from the accusation and began to swing his legs back and forth under the desk as he rubbed his knuckles together. Then he took a deep breath and furrowed his eyebrows.

“Now Kenny, you can’t keep talking down about yourself like that. I won’t allow it here, mister. Cartman can say all kinds of stuff about you being poor and dumb when we hang out and you know I can’t stop him, but in this space, I am in charge!” stated Butters.

Kenny grinned at this outburst too. He loved when Butters got impassioned about things, particularly his friends, particularly Kenny.

“Now, I might make sure my homework is done and my teeth are brushed, but remember, I know how to cause a little chaos.” Butters chuckled to himself at that and rubbed his hands in more a scheming manner than a nervous one.

“Oh dear, it’s been a long time Professor Chaos.” Kenny growled in response. “ Am I going to have to fight you again?”

“He he he and just how are you going to stop me?” replied Butters, also lowering the pitch of his voice to be more gravely, though it still carried his sweet lilt.

“I will do what has to be done to protect this town.” replied Kenny in a very serious tone despite the fact this was all just some nostalgic play acting between friends. “Maybe I will tie you up and leave you for someone else to find and arrest.”

Butters eyes got misty and his throat tightened at this comment. “Oh really Mysterion, you’re going to tie me up? That’s your plan? Bind my wrists together behind my back? Tie my ankles to the legs of the chair to leave me helpless and exposed? Exposed to anyone who might want to take advantage of me?”

Kenny matched Butters' horned up energy as he leaned forward across the table to whisper his next moves, when suddenly another library user came around the corner and scared the sh*t out of both boys. Butters shot straight up in his chair before shuffling in his seat surreptitiously.

“Oh hamburgers. This wasn’t about physics at all.” he said mostly to himself.

Kenny just gave him a slight smile. He wasn’t going to corrupt Butters. Butters could do that all on his own. His smile dropped as he remembered the person behind this plan to get closer to Butters, f*cking Cartman. Kenny did not know what Cartman’s end goal was for this scheme, but he’d be damned if Butters went down with him.

Chapter 6: Chapter 6 - Style Tutoring and an A-Scyde

Chapter Text

When Mrs. Broflovski opened the front door of her house, Stan was hit by the nostalgic scent of the Broflovski household. His heart caught in his throat as he was overwhelmed by the familiar smells of detergent, cooking, cleaning supplies…all the scents that make a house a home.

The Broflovski’s home had been Stan’s second home for so many years. The place he had gone to when his own home was too much. He found himself cataloging all the things that had changed and all the things that I had stayed the same since that last day in eighth grade. Stan was brought back into the moment by the sound of Mrs. Broflovski’s voice.

“Hello, Stanley.” said Sheila in a cautious tone. “Kyle told me you would be coming over for tutoring. He’s up in his room. I trust you remember where that is.” She looked at him warily and for a moment he thought she might say something else, but she just sighed as she stepped out of his way and let him enter their home.

Stan did remember exactly where Kyle’s room was located, almost down to the number of steps up the stairs. He was met with another closed door when he got to Kyle’s room. He knocked lightly.

“Come in.” called Kyle and Stan slowly turned the doorknob and walked into Kyle’s room.

It was as clean and organized as Stan remembered it being back in junior high. Kyle had never been interested in decorating his room and he didn’t have Stan’s penchant for keeping items for the memories.

Stan noticed how little had changed. He wished it really was still junior high. The day everything had been ruined. The day he had ruined everything, even if he couldn’t exactly say how. If he could have that day back, maybe he wouldn’t make the same mistake and lose all of this.

Kyle turned around from his desk and looked at Stan. “You don’t have to be weird about being back here. You’ve been in my room plenty of times. Just take a seat on the floor or something.”

Stan gave a nervous chuckle in reply as he slid down against Kyle’s bed and sat on the floor. He unzipped his backpack and began to spread out his school paraphernalia - crumpled up papers and bent binders.

“Dude, you really didn’t take long to make yourself at home. You’re already trashing my room.” laughed Kyle as he looked down at Stan’s mess.

Stan grinned up at him sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck, “I guess you’re not the only one who hasn’t changed.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Kyle playfully ribbed back, missing this sort of banter. Kyle’s current friend group didn’t really get into the sort of fights his old friends loved. They might get competitive over a video game, but it was never the verbal sparring that Kyle used to engage in. Craig was too reserved, Clyde was too sensitive, and Tolkein was too perfect. That was one of the reasons that he joined the debate team in the first place. He missed arguing.

Sure Cartman was a fat, bigoted asshole, but that was so much fodder to rip into. Tearing down that smug piece of sh*t had always been one of Kyle’s favorite hobbies, though he wouldn’t have said it out loud in those terms. And the rest of the boys had always been just as game to argue with each other. Bullying was their love language.

So Kyle was thrilled when Stan shot back, “Well, this room still looks like a junior high kid lives in it. Look at all those tissues in the trash. Sick! Is that your new hobby?”

“Please, dude, I am not frantically jacking it into an entire box of Kleenex. I had a cold last week.” Kyle replied with an eye roll. “And this room is timeless and sophisticated.”

“Just because you’re gay doesn’t mean that you can act like you’re on HGTV.” snarked Stan. “You’re not sophisticated. Remember how bad you were at being metrosexual?”

“I am not taking this crap from someone who pees in the shower.” huffed Kyle. “Anyway, you are here for tutoring, so let’s get started.”

Stan felt it was cheating for Kyle to end the discussion on his bathroom habits, but he was exhilarated from talking so much with Kyle after so long. He opened Julius Caesar and the pair began to discuss the nuanced imagery of Shakespeare’s tragedy. Of course, their conversation meandered off into tangents about old memories and funny tiktoks as the afternoon bled into the evening.

“Kyle, is Stanley staying for dinner?” called Sheila from the bottom of the stairs and Kyle looked at Stan to see what he wanted to do.

“If your family will let me stay, then sure dude. Your mom’s cooking is weird, but ever since my mom got that job, it’s been so many frozen pizzas at the farm.” confided Stan.

He suspected his mother had picked up a job in order to put some distance between her and Randy. The older Randy got, the less endearing his alcoholism became. Stan certainly couldn’t wait to go to college and get off that f*cking farm. That was the reason he stuck it out in football. Stan wasn’t super into contact sports, but if he could find a division two school that would throw him a scholarship then all the possible concussions would be worth it.

“Hey, my mom’s cooking isn’t weird. It’s ethnic.” shot back Kyle, but he called down to his mom that Stan would be staying for dinner.

At dinner, both Kyle’s parents seemed unusually invested in the interactions between the boys. Stan assumed that Kyle had told them what had happened and their scrutiny further confirmed that he had been the bad guy in the story. But they weren’t hostile to him at all. They asked about school and sports and his family. Ike asked about Wendy and Stan reiterated that they were broken up. Overall, it was a normal family dinner. The type of dinner that Stan hadn’t had in a long time. He had missed this too.

After dinner, the boys went back upstairs to round up Stan’s stuff. Kyle had other homework to do and in order to speed up the process, he helped grab the school papers scattered on the floor. The boys accidentally touched hands as they both reached for the same crumpled math sheet. Stan pulled his hand back quickly in embarrassment.

“Sorry,” laughed Kyle “I guess one thing that also hasn’t changed is your aversion to fa*ggots touching you.”

Stan’s eyebrows shot straight up. “What the f*ck dude? Don’t call yourself that!”

Kyle’s eyes darkened and his mouth became set in a grim line. He quietly said, “You really do not remember, do you?”

“Remember what? Is this about that night? No, dude. I don’t. I don’t know what I did, but I am sorry.” Stan started to ramble.

“You can’t apologize if you don’t remember!” shouted Kyle, going from sad to angry. Sometimes angry was just easier than sad.

“Please Kyle. Just tell me what I did. Tell me. I know it was me. It had to be me. I have given you time. I have given you space. But being here, back in your room, tonight, I miss this so damn much.” Stan’s eyes began to well with tears. “If you can tell me how I ruined everything, then I can try my best to fix it. I miss you.”

Kyle leaned back on his bed and took a deep breath. He looked down at his lap and thought for a minute, though it felt like a lifetime to both boys. Then he decided it was time to put it all out there.

“I don’t know how much you remember about that night. Or even that whole summer. I know you were going through sh*t because your parents were separated and I know you drank a whole lot. Even when you said you weren’t drunk, I knew you were. We all knew you were. But we didn’t know what to do. We were all idiots in junior high and so self absorbed. I didn’t know how to help you, so I ignored it. I ignored you.”

Stan stood as still as a stone as Kyle continued to recount eighth grade.

“That night you came over from a party at Clyde’s. I didn’t go because I hated watching you wreck yourself at those parties, but you owed me a sleepover and I thought maybe if I could pick up the pieces of you from after the party it would somehow absolve me of the guilt I felt for letting you go in the first place.” Kyle’s voice wavered.

“You came over and you were a mess. You and Wendy had fought. You had fallen off the back porch and cut your head. I bandaged you up and I listened to you recount all of the dumb things you had done that night. I assumed since you could tell me all the sh*t you did, that you weren’t blacked out. I got you water and I even let you share my bed.” Kyle paused to take another deep sigh.

“Sometime in the middle of the night, I don’t know when, two? Three? You woke me up with your crying. I don’t know how long you had been awake. I turned around to face you and put my face in your hands and you brought me so close that our lips were almost touching.”

“We kissed?!” shouted Stan.

“No! Worse, you seemed to have a moment of gay panic or straight clarity or some sh*t and your eyes shot wide as you shoved me out of my own bed and said to my face ‘Not just some fa*ggot.’” Kyle was shaking as recalled how scared and humiliated he had been at that moment.

He had told Stan he was gay earlier that summer before eighth grade. He had been planning on waiting until he had a boyfriend or at least a crush. Someone he could offer when his friends would inevitably ask how he knew he was gay or worse, ask if he liked them. But Kyle had wanted to show Stan that he wasn’t the only one going through issues that summer and he couldn’t think of a better way to do it than to share his own struggle. Stan had been as supportive as he could have been in that state of underage drunk and teenage depression. He had never said anything derogatory towards Kyle, until that night. Kyle hadn’t ever dreamed that Stan would say something like that about him, especially to his face.

“So after your outburst, you seemed to fall back asleep, while I silently sobbed for hours on the floor of my own bedroom. My friend since childhood slept soundly in my bed. Then you woke up that morning and didn’t even mention what had happened. You just looked at me, lying on the floor, eyes swollen from crying and asked what was wrong with me. I couldn’t decide if you were just too drunk to remember or if you were so embarrassed you weren’t going to acknowledge what happened. But in that moment, I realized that some part of you found me disgusting and I couldn’t be friends with someone who thought so little of me. I already had to deal with Cartman. You were my best friend, my super best friend, and you had rejected me with a slur.”

Stan stood there, just taking in the whole story. He started to feel heavy and tired. Even breathing felt like conscious effort. He had been right. In the worst possible way, he had been right. He had done something terrible that night. Something horrible. And then he did something worse that morning by brushing off Kyle’s hurt. He was a sh*tty, selfish friend. He was just like his father.

“I don’t even know how to say sorry. I f*cked up. I am f*cked up. I knew that I must have done something bad, but I get why you hate me. And f*ck, then I asked you to tutor me? And you still said yes. What the f*ck is wrong with me?!” Stan said, not looking at Kyle. Stan’s eyes filled with tears as he backed out of the bedroom and raced down the stairs to get out of the house that he now saw was too nice for him. He didn’t belong here. He just ruined things.

An A-Scyde

“Grrr…there is no reason that we need to learn about the pythagorean theory. I don’t ever plan on getting a job in triangles.” grumbled Clyde from his kitchen table, where he was sitting with Scott. “They should teach us something useful, like how to do taxes.”

“Are you planning on getting a job doing taxthes?”Scott asked.

“Well, no. But I think all adults have to do taxes.” replied Clyde as he wrinkled his brow in thought, trying to recall what his dad had ever said about taxes.

“Oh, sthit. I didn’t know that.” said Scott with disappointment towards this revelation.

“Ha ha, sh*t doesn’t have the same impact when you say it with that lisp.” laughed Clyde. Some people found Scott’s lisp annoying, but Clyde had never minded it.

“How about f*ck you!?” Scott teased back.

“That’s pretty f*cking serious, dude. I am intimidated.” Clyde raised his eyebrows in mock fear and leaned a bit aways from the table. This got a chuckle out of Scott.

“If you are getting a job in trianglesth, then what do you want to do?” asked Scott curiously.

“I don’t know. I’m not very smart, but I guess I am like strong. I could be a firefighter…maybe. Then I could like use my strength to help people...” Clyde said with an uncharacteristic earnestness. He didn’t have to finish the last sentence out loud. Scott knew that he wanted to say “help people like my mother.” It might have been a while since Scott and Clyde had hung out together, but he knew Clyde felt really guilty about his mom dying in the accident and that he wasn’t ever going to get over it. Scott couldn’t understand exactly how he felt, but he respected Clyde’s space for grief.

Scott reached out and platonically patted Clyde’s fluffy brown hair in a comforting manner, but this startled Clyde.

“Woah, man. That’s…” Clyde yelped, but stopped himself before finishing that statement. He was going to say it was gay, but that wasn’t helpful. It was supposed to be gay. Gay is in. Gay is hot. He had promised Cartman that he would be gay.

Calling something lame “gay” wasn’t even accurate because Craig was gay and the coolest guy that Clyde knew. Clyde was one hundred percent sure he was into chicks, but he wasn’t one hundred percent sure he wasn’t into dudes. There were guys who were as cute as girls for sure and the butt stuff didn’t put him off in the slightest. He had tried anal with Bebe back when they were dating and even though she said she hated it and they never did it again, he had had a good time. There was the dick stuff to worry about, but he felt like it would be less of a hurdle to overcome than it might sound like. There was a thin line between the heterosexual dick measuring and appreciation of locker rooms and getting another guy off. And maybe he had drunkenly shared a handjob or two during a house party.

“Embarrassing.” Clyde substituted in a small and defeated voice. “I am not a dog. I don’t need head pats.”

“Oh, sthorry.” said Scott. “I sthee your friends touch you all the time. I didn’t realizeth you didn’t like it.”

“It’s not that I don’t like it. It’s just that they’re my friends.” As soon as the words left Clyde’s mouth, he knew he had f*cked up. Scott's face immediately fell.

“I gueth that's fair. We haven’t been friends for a while.”

Scott wasn’t wrong. Over the years, the group had lost Scott and Tweek, but gained Kyle. And honestly, even though Clyde didn’t dislike Kyle, he had always found Scott a lot easier to hang out with. Kyle was kind of a know-it-all and acted like Clyde was an idiot when he didn’t know some social issue in Botswana or whatever the boy’s current issue of concern was. Clyde had wondered how Kyle had gotten along so well with Stan, but he guessed it was because Stan did care a lot about animal rights so they probably could bond over that. Maybe their big falling out had been over a cow or something.

Clyde rubbed the back of his neck, “ You know, just because we haven’t hung out in a while, doesn’t mean that I don’t want to hang out with you. I used to love coming up with action movie ideas with you. How about next time the gang has a boy’s night at Tolkein’s, I will make sure you are invited?”

Scott’s face lit up in a smile that made all his freckles pop and made Clyde’s heart leap a bit. “That would be really nice. I would like that.”

Chapter 7: Chapter 7 - Marching Band Practice Creek

Chapter Text

It was the end of Wednesday night band practice and the boys were putting away their instruments and catching up on the midweek drama, when Kyle suddenly realized something strange was going on.

“So Ken said that it barely even hurt when he did his eyebrow.” Butters was bragging on behalf of Kenny to a half interested Scott. Butters was taking apart his saxophone with the utmost care. He would be allowed to leave it here at the school for the night, but tomorrow it would be lugged to his house for the private lessons his parents paid for.

Scott played the drums because his parents said that he needed something to put on a college resume but that they weren’t paying for some fancy instrument. The school owned the drums. He was just hanging around with the other boys because he liked getting the chance to talk.

Kyle’s eyes darted between the pair as he was quickly putting something together.

“Hey, Butters, when did Kenny tell you all this stuff about his piercings?” Kyle asked in a soft tone that did not betray his sinking suspicion.

Kyle had already put away his trombone, after making sure it was thoroughly cleaned and dried out. He couldn’t stand the idea of old spit sitting overnight in his instrument. Kyle had chosen the trombone because it was unique - a slide instead of keys or valves. It took up space physically in a way that Kyle appreciated. He was not above whacking someone with the slide if they were in his way.

“Oh. Well, we didn’t talk all that much about his piercings.” said Butters, getting flustered at the attention brought to his interest in Kenny. “That was just something he mentioned and I thought it was kinda neat. I guess it’s dumb to talk about, huh.”

“But when did he tell you this?” pushed Kyle further. He didn’t have time for Butter’s crush on Kenny. There were things he needed to know.

“Well, while I was tutoring him, of course.” beamed Butters, happy to show that Kenny found him useful. Even if his parents said he was a troublesome burden, he knew he could be helpful. It felt really good to be helpful to the guy he liked.

“That son of a bitch.” muttered Kyle to himself with a frown. “And uh, Scott you are also tutoring someone?”

“Yeth, Clyde athked me to help him in math.” replied Scott, whose confused face betrayed that he did not understand where Kyle was going with all of this.

“Goddamnit! I should have known something was up. That bastard.” Kyle said in a progressively raised voice. His face was getting flushed from the anger that was welling up inside of him.

“Well, rrgh Craig isn’t tutoring me.” offered Tweek with a flinch, who was pretty sure where Kyle’s line of questioning was going.

Tweek played the trumpet, which might have surprised some people who figured he was too twitchy for any instrument, but Tweek said that playing an instrument gave him the focus he needed to calm down his mind and that he had less tics during band practice.

Tweek had already put away his trumpet, but he was still in the band room because Craig had promised to pick him up and drive him home and he hadn’t received a text telling him that he was outside yet. It had been harder for Tweek to warm up to talking with Butters and Kyle. Hanging out with Craig again was so easy and the rest of Craig’s gang had felt like family, but he still wasn’t sure that he trusted Kyle or Butters, they were linked too closely with Cartman in his mind.

“He doesn’t need to ask you to tutor him. You guys are already right back to being together all the time, but the rest of us. This cannot be a coincidence. There are no coincidences when Eric Cartman is involved.” snapped Kyle.

“Well, how do you know Eric is involved? And involved in what? I am mighty confused.” said Butters, getting increasingly nervous. He started to knock his knuckles together out of anxiety.

“Don’t you think it’s odd that all of a sudden the whole football team needs tutoring and that they would ask all of us to help out?” questioned Kyle as he looked around the room.

The other boys thought about it for a half a second before Butters supplied “Well, uh maybe the coach said they hafta get their grades up or they’re off the team!”

Kyle furrowed his eyebrows and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Butters, you dense motherf*cker! Why would they choose us in particular? Scott isn’t even smart!”

“Hey, that’th not very nice. I am not dumb.” said Scott defensively. He started to head towards the door. He didn’t have to stick around if Kyle was just going to be a jerk.

“Sorry. You’re right. You aren’t dumb.” Kyle took a deep breath to calm himself down. It wasn’t going to do him any favors to get all the guys upset with him. “I just think it’s odd how we all happened to get paired up. And why didn’t Cartman get paired to tutor anyone? He’s smart enough and he would have the same schedule as the rest of the team.”

“Oh JESUS!” shouted Tweek. “This really is some f*cked up Cartman scheme, isn’t it?!” His head jerked violently as he felt his anxiety bearing down on him.

“Well, I just don’t see how a scheme to help his teammates' grades is all that nefarious,” said Butters. He didn’t like the idea that the only reason Kenny wanted to hangout with him was somehow due to Eric’s manipulation. He thought they were closer than that. His face fell a bit with worry.

“I don’t get that part either. I did finally tell Stan about that night and he took it pretty poorly. Maybe he just wants to hurt me.”

None of the boys asked about what Kyle meant by “that night.” Kyle had confided in Butters years ago after Butters wouldn’t stop pestering him about why he and Stan were never together anymore. Butters had been pretty hurt on behalf of Kyle and he secretly internalized it as proof that his dad was right, being gay really did ruin everything. If it could ruin a friendship as strong as Kyle and Stan’s, then it was too powerful of a force. Butters never thought to share what he had learned with Stan or Kenny because he was good at keeping secrets. Eric had told him so.

Tweek had been filled in by Craig afterschool on the Monday that Kyle had snapped at him. Craig didn’t know all of the details, but Kyle had told the group sometime in eighth grade, after it was pretty official that they were his new friends. Craig figured that Stan had probably been projecting his own issues and that Kyle had taken it too personally. That was their typical m.o. But Craig wasn’t going to Dr. Phil their relationship back together. That was on them. He didn’t mind having Kyle around in the group, especially if it annoyed Cartman and Stan to lose him. He had always found those two to be kind of annoying and he liked having something over them.

Scott didn’t ask about that night because the other two boys hadn’t said anything and Scott didn’t want to look dumb. Also, Kyle was being kind of mean right now and Scott didn’t want to be called more names.

Kyle was getting caught up in his own conspiracies and Tweek realized that he needed some tough love to shake him out of this spiral.

“Well, I don’t think nnggh that Cartman would have all of us buddy up if it was just to hurt you. That’s stupid!”

Kyle paused at this and after some thought, he had to admit it seemed pretty unrealistic that Cartman involved all of the guys in a scheme that was only to hurt Kyle, especially when Cartman knew that Butters was fond of Kenny. He looked over at the shorter blond boy, who had put on a glazed expression, clearly dissociating to stop himself from crying. Kyle put his arm on Butters’ shoulder.

“Tweek is right. This is bigger than me. It probably does include all of us. But we have an advantage now! We know something is up, so we can all look out for each other. No one is going to get hurt.” Kyle sounded far more confident than he felt, but he couldn’t leave Butters this upset and the bravado had seemed to work. Butters face grew resolute.

“Stan and I need to work through what I told him yesterday, so I don’t think I will be able to get any intel.” admitted Kyle, but Scott and Tweek both volunteered to ask their tutoring partners. Scott figured that Clyde might just tell him and Tweek wasn’t going to be able to get over this without knowing what all was going on.

Just then Tweek got the text he had been waiting for and he said his goodbyes to the other boys before heading out the band room door and down the stairs into the parking lot. Craig was waiting in his truck.

A 2007 Chevy Silverado didn’t seem to fit a person like Craig, but this was the country and for most boys, your first car was a truck. Craig liked that he found one with a crew cab, so that he could haul the whole gang if he needed to, though it was kind of a struggle for Jimmy to get up into the seat and Craig always felt like an ass for it. Tolkein had received a much nicer and more manageable SUV for his last birthday and that was now the group’s default mode of transportation, even though Tolkein had a lot of rules for his car, like no eating. Still, Tweek preferred Craig’s truck, especially when it was just the two of them.

Tweek hopped into the passenger seat and threw his backpack onto the seat behind him. Then he screwed up his courage and asked “Is the only reason you’re hanging out with me because of Cartman?!”

“No.” replied Craig in his typical deadpan way, looking at the road as he pulled out of the parking lot. Tweek could tell that his question had bothered Craig. Tweek also knew he was telling the truth because Craig never lied, but Craig also wasn’t one to tell all of the truth unless explicitly asked. He thought of a follow up question.

“Do you know if Cartman erk is planning something weird that might involve the band guys?” Tweek blurted out.

Craig took a deep sigh and Tweek could tell he was thinking of how best to say whatever was going to come next. That meant there was something. Tweek bared his teeth in a grimace.

“Cartman has a dumb bet with the other guys on the football team. We have to get a band kid to say they love us to win a PS5. If we don’t participate, there will be consequences.” Craig sounded thoroughly annoyed recounting all of this.

“We each have assigned targets, set by Cartman. Of course, he gave me you because he’s a jerk. I don’t want his PS5, but I don’t want him up my ass, so I am pretending to play along. It isn’t too hard since we are already hanging out again. Please don't take any of what he says or does seriously. I want to hangout with you. If he tries any sh*t, let me know and I will not hesitate to kick his ass.” Craig finally looked over at Tweek, once he had finished his monologue, and gave the boy a small smile. His eyes went soft.

Tweek was comforted by how clearly Craig cared for him and it did soften the blow that Cartman was indeed scheming and that Tweek was involved in this scheme. He tugged his hair out of frustration, until he felt Craig’s hand on his arm.

“Seriously, Tweek. I like hanging out with you. I like you. Cartman has nothing to do with any of that. He’s just an immature asshole.” Tweek wondered what kind of like Craig had meant, but he had other questions first.

“Thank you for letting me know everything. Am I right to assume that Kyle is Stan’s target and Kenny has Butters?” Tweek asked.

“Yeah, and Clyde has Scott.” Craig said with a chuckle. Clyde had been texting Craig about Scott a lot recently and Craig felt like he knew where this was going.

“And if I say that I love you, it would all be over?” Tweek said softly.

“Maybe, but with Cartman, I don’t think he would be satisfied with just that. Plus I never thought of just telling you to say you love me just to end it. That seems unfair. Before you moved away, you had to deal with all that crap from the yaoi fangirls. I don’t want you to get thrown back into that fake relationship garbage again.” Craig furrowed his brow in frustration.

“What if it wasn’t fake?” asked Tweek.

“What?!” said Craig as he slammed on the breaks and almost threw both of them out of the window. Craig pulled over to the side of the road.

“What if I had liked you in elementary school. Argh, this is so difficult. Too much pressure. What I mean to say is that I did actually like you then. We got pushed together by those girls, sure, but I really did like you by the time I moved away.” Tweek turned bright red and refused to make eye contact with Craig. This was humiliating.

“Oh.” said Craig, as he also felt his face heat up. “I guess that’s fine because I liked you too back then.”

“Ha ha ha we were so dumb back then.” laughed Tweek nervously as he slowly turned to face Craig.

“Haha I guess so.” mused Craig.

Both boys sat quietly in the car for what felt like an eternity, before Craig pulled back on to the road.

“Well, I think I need to find a way to tell the other guys about this bet without upsetting them too much.” said Tweek quickly, changing the subject.

“Good luck not upsetting Broflovski. Everything works that guy up.” snarked Craig, relieved that Tweek changed topics.

“I am more worried about Butters. Gggrrr he seemed really upset tonight when Kyle brought up that it might be a scheme.” Tweek felt a lot of fondness for Butters now that they were older and he could appreciate the boy’s kindness.

“Maybe we should hold off telling them then,” said Craig. He didn’t like the idea of keeping Cartman’s secrets, but sometimes people needed to learn things on their own.

“I can try, jeez so much pressure, but if Kyle comes at me, don’t be surprised if I crack.” laughed Tweek.

“Somehow when you surprise me, it’s usually in the best way, Tweekers.” said Craig fondly as he pulled up in front of Tweek’s house.

Tweek didn’t know what to say to that, so he just said goodnight as he grabbed his backpack and hopped down from the truck to his house.

Craig stayed in his car to make sure Tweek got in the house safely.

Chapter 8: Chapter 8 - Away Football Game

Chapter Text

It was Friday night and the yellow school bus was packed full with the football team as they headed to their opponent’s school for the away game. Even though it was before the game, the bus still smelled of sweat and Axe body spray. Occasionally, the bus driver would yell back at the teens to shut the hell up, but they ignored her threats, so the hum of chatter interrupted by shouts and laughs was the soundtrack for the drive.

Kenny and Stan sat crammed next to each other on the bus's bench seat. Their legs were cramped in the bus bench seats because they had to wear the uniform pants on the ride there. They would change into the rest of the gear once they arrived, but it was being toted by one of the faithful football parents in their car.

Kenny laid his head on Stan’s shoulder as Stan stared ahead, clearly in a mood.

“What’s wrong, Stanley? I hate to see that pretty face sad.” flirted Kenny, though he was genuinely concerned about his friend. Stan had been oddly quiet all week and when he didn’t have practice or class, he was nowhere to be found. Kenny suspected that he had been hanging out in the back of the school near the dumpsters getting high with the goth kids again. He would ask Henrietta about it next time they hooked up. He loved a big tiddied goth girl. She wouldn’t be thrilled to play babysitter, but she knew how much Kenny cared for his friends. She would at least tell him if Stan was smoking with them. Kenny preferred the idea of Stan smoking with company, as opposed to hotboxing alone in his car. Stan could spend too much time with his thoughts.

Kenny could smell the weed on Stan currently and he knew this was a bad omen for the game tonight. A f*cked up Stan did not make for a great quarterback and losing would probably just make Stan’s mood worse. Kenny didn’t care about the game itself, but he was worried for Stan. This was feeling like the beginning of a depressive episode and these usually hit Stan hard.

“Kyle told me about that night in eighth grade.” Stan said slowly, as if recalling a dream. Stan then proceeded to tell Kenny everything that Kyle had said about that fateful night.

“Well, sh*t,” said Kenny with a low whistle, “I figured it was something you did, but I wouldn’t have expected you to do that to Kyle, even if you were drunk. Did hearing about it bring back any memories?”

“Honestly, no. Thinking about the whole thing just makes me really tired.” confided Stan. “I was pretty f*cked up that whole summer and I don’t really remember a lot of it.” He frowned and clenched his hands into fists as his eyes welled up with tears.

“It’s the kind of sh*t my dad would do, just get drunk and call someone a slur. f*ck, I am no better than Randy.” Becoming his dad was Stan’s worst fear, but he felt like the harder he fought, the more he fell down the same path.

“Dude, stop it. Am I just a white trash addict destined for unemployment and jail?” asked Kenny, his voice low and heavy with the weight of the question.

“Jesus, Kenny, of course not. You’re not your dad. You care so much about your sister and your friends. You like to have fun, but you would never do something to endanger others.” Stan was offended on his friend’s behalf.

“Well, if I have the ability to not be like my dad, then you sure as Hell do too.” replied Kenny, with a fox-like grin that stretched the empty holes of his snake bites. He couldn’t wear his piercings during games. It was a safety concern. Coach might turn a blind eye during practice, but other team’s coaches or college scouts might use that as an opportunity to get him off the team. Kenny poked his finger squarely into Stan’s chest to further emphasize the point.

“I want to believe you are right, but I really f*cked this up and then the fact it took me so long to even approach Kyle about it. I am a puss*.”

“Yeah and Kyle is a little bitch for keeping it from you so that you couldn’t work it out. So you two lesbians just need to have a heart to heart. You need to figure out why you might have said that to Kyle and apologize, but Kyle needs to learn to accept that apology.” Kenny gave a deep sigh and looked up at the peeling paint of the bus ceiling. He hoped that his friends could work it out, but they sure were stubborn.

Unfortunately, Kenny’s prediction about the game came true. The whole team played awful, especially Stan who just could not focus. He was taken out by the third quarter, but by then the team was too far behind to get a win. The mood on the bus back was demoralizing somber.

“Great going, asshole.” hissed Cartman as they got off the bus in the school parking lot and headed to their own lockers to shower. “Is there anything you can do right? You really are a f*ck up, like your dad.”

“At least I have a dad, you son of a bitch.” said Stan, though he didn’t actually feel up for fighting.

“Well a fat lot of good it’s done you. He’s a real role model in being a dumbass alcoholic. You’re doing a great job following in his footsteps.” Cartman would not let up.

Stan was so angry he felt overheated. Suddenly, the idea of being in the locker room, with everyone he let down was too much. Even though he was damp with sweat and covered in mud from the field, he turned toward his car. It was a small town, so you could keep the key in the ignition, he would be home before he knew it.

“EEeeh, asshole, come back here and face me!” demanded Cartman, before he felt a swift punch in his gut.

“I’ll be his stand-in for the night,” said Kenny. “Want me to make you bleed?” He said it playfully, but Cartman knew that Kenny would let him have it if he saw fit.

“Well, look at you being a guardian angel.” Cartman winced from the hit to his stomach. “I don’t need this from you. Truce.”

“Fine, truce. But lay off Stan and his dad,” said Kenny. “Is this why you made this bet? To hurt Stan?”

“Jesus, Kinny, no. It’s easy to hurt Stan, he can do it to himself. This is bigger than that, but you’ll find out on your own.” Cartman huffed away into the showers.

While the rest of the team was washing the remains of the game down the locker room drain, Stan was drowning his sorrows with a bottle of room temperature Jack Daniels that he had hidden in his closet. The irony that he was getting drunk, like his father, was not lost on him, as he swallowed the burning liquor. He just wanted to stop feeling so bad, just for a night.

Once his frustration turned to fuzzy numbness, he realized he was bored. Before he had thought about what he was doing, he was calling Wendy.

“Stan, are you drunk?” said Wendy.

“No, maybe. Whyseveryone think I am drunk all the time?” Stan slurred his words as he started to tear up again.

Wendy was going to mouth off that it was because he always was, but she realized this wasn’t what he needed to hear, so she went for a softer approach.

“Because Stanley, I broke up with you and we agreed to give each other some space. Sometimes, when you drink, you aren’t respectful of boundaries.”

“Like the boundary of not calling your best friend, who happens to be gay, a fa*g?” replied Stan, clearly crying now.

Wendy knew from Kyle about what Stan had done that night because despite being friendly rivals in classes and debate, they were now pretty close. They cared about a lot of the same issues… and the same dumb teen boy. Kyle had told Wendy in confidence about the summer of eighth grade, a couple years back during an overnight debate trip. Everyone was high on pre-competition adrenaline and vending machine sodas. After Wendy admitted that she had kissed Cartman during a game of spin the bottle, which she had spun purposefully in his direction, Kyle decided to share his weakest moment too.

Wendy disagreed with how Kyle had avoided Stan over it, but she felt like there was probably more to that than Kyle was telling her. For her part, she didn’t talk about Stan in front of Kyle because she knew that it would upset him, even if he swore that he didn’t care. Clearly, Kyle and Stan had finally talked about it though.

“Stanley, everyone makes mistakes. Have you apologized?” Wendy treaded the conversation carefully.

“How can I? How can I just say ‘Sorry for calling you a fa*ggot. You were my best friend and I love you so much and I ruined everything.’” Stan sobbed into the phone, making it hard for Wendy to hear.

“Well, if it’s true. Why not start with that?” asked Wendy.

“I miss him so much. I loveeee hhiiimmm.” sobbed Stan, clearly not listening to Wendy. Not for the first time, Wendy wondered what kind of love Stan thought he meant and what kind of love Stan actually meant.

“He’s my super best friend. He’s so smart and funny. And I ruined it.”

“STAN!” Wendy shouted through the phone to get the inebriated boy’s attention. “There is nothing wrong with starting with sorry. If you tell him how much you care and he still doesn’t accept an apology then that’s on him. But, sweetie, it’s actually girl’s night. Bebe has the movie paused, but I cannot spend the whole night on the phone with you. I have to let you go. Be safe, okay?”

“Okay, I will be safe. Sorry for interrupting girl’s night.” said a suddenly much sleepier sounding Stan, who had seemingly worn himself out. “You’re the best,” Stan said as he pressed to end the call.

“But you don’t love me.” said Wendy to herself, as she brought down the phone.

Chapter 9: Chapter 9 - More Styles More Bunny

Chapter Text

Kyle was surprised on Monday, when Stan texted him about coming over to his house to continue tutoring. He almost considered canceling on Stan, but something inside of him told him not to do that. Butters also told him not to do that when Kyle mentioned it that morning.

“Now, Kyle, you hafta give that boy a chance. He’s probably real sorry for what he did and wants to apologize in person. I know I woulda if it were me.” said Butters with a very stern expression. Kyle used to be the mom friend, back with his old crew, but now he felt like the title suited Butters a lot better. Sometimes, Butters was the only one brave enough, or dumb enough, to say what really needed to be said.

So, Kyle texted him back that he would need a ride because he didn’t have a car. His parents felt it was a lesson in responsibility for Kyle to earn the money to buy himself a car and Kyle didn’t much see the point, since he wouldn’t be able to use it during college for at least two years. Instead, he drove the family’s minivan when it was available, but he still took the bus to school.

Sitting in the passenger seat of Stan’s Ram pickup, Kyle couldn’t help but wonder what life would have been like if they had stayed friends through junior high and high school. How many trips to the farm would he have taken in this truck? A ridiculous truck in Kyle’s opinion. Stan mentioned that his dad had bought it for him as a birthday gift, almost as a defense to Kyle’s wordless judgment. It was the kind of ostentatious truck that Randy would choose to impress family friends and prove that he loved his son, maybe even more than his wife did. Stan didn’t look the gift truck in the hood, but he was self conscious about it.

Stan played his music to fill the silence of Kyle’s pondering and the two barely said anything to each other the whole ride to the farm. Stan’s old family home was the background of most of Kyle’s memories and daydreams about his time with his former friends, so seeing the farmhouse again in person wasn’t the nostalgic welcome that Stan had felt at Kyle’s.

Stan pulled into a patch of dirt near the barn and the pair headed toward the house. Once they got inside, Stan asked Kyle if he wanted a snack or anything to drink.

“No thanks, I am good.” replied Kyle, who wasn’t going to admit to Stan that right now he was about sick to his stomach with anxiety.

Stan didn’t seem to pick up on Kyle’s nerves.

“Okay, well if you change your mind, let me know. Especially if you want water. I can grab you some bottled water. Well water tastes like ass, dude.” rambled Stan as they headed to his bedroom.

Once inside the room, Stan took a deep breath and spun around to face Kyle directly. Kyle was caught off guard and looked away nervously. Stan grabbed both of Kyle’s arms to hold him still, then realizing his grip was way too tight, he loosened his grip and slid his hands up to Kyle’s shoulders. Kyle was a bit taller, so he had to look down at Stan. Both boys were bright red.

“Look, I wanted to say that I am sorry. I have spent a lot of time thinking about why I might have said what I did and I don’t have a good answer, but that doesn’t matter. I was an asshole and what I said was totally f*cked up. You’re my best friend. Even now, I want to be your friend so bad that it hurts. Give me a chance to make it up to you.”

Stan was starting to cry and that panged Kyle’s heart. He tilted his head down until their foreheads met and he quietly admitted, “I’ve missed you too.”

“Really?!” said Stan, suddenly becoming aware of how close the pair were and letting go of Kyle.

“Of course, dude. I hang out with Tolkien now. Those guys do not know how to have fun like you do. When we set off fireworks, we have to follow all the safety instructions. I never even knew they had safety instructions. And of course, we can’t attach them to anything because ‘it might break something.’ That’s the whole point!”

“That’s weak, dude.” agreed Stan. “I kind of assumed that Craig was an upgraded version of me. I mean, you guys can talk about being gay or whatever.”

“It’s definitely not like that,” laughed Kyle. “Half the time, I think Craig hates my guts. Even when he’s in a good mood, we never click like you and I do.”

Stan smiled a big goofy smile up at Kyle. He thought after last week, he’d lost all chance to hear Kyle laugh again. He loved that nasally laugh.

“And they are all so f*cking polite,” continued Kyle. “We never get into the sort of fights that I used to have with you guys. It’s sooo boring.”

Stan couldn’t stop smiling, maybe it was the way the afternoon sun was shining through his window, but damn, Kyle looked radiant.

“I am so glad you didn’t write me off forever.” Stan said quietly.

“Hey, I haven’t completely forgiven you yet,” teased Kyle. “But I think we can be friends again.”

After such an emotionally charged moment, the boys both felt a little giddy, but not wanting to make the other uncomfortable, they moved on to actual tutoring. Today, it was vocab words.

“I don’t know why I need to know these, when am I ever going to use the word ‘venerable?’” whined Stan.

“Dude, these are literally SAT words, you need to know them for the SAT.” repeated Kyle for the hundredth time.

“I am not so worried about the SAT, I have football. That’s how I plan to get into college.” Stan said defensively.

“So you’re serious about football? Do you want to be a professional?” asked Kyle. Stan could hear the skepticism in his voice over the realism of this goal.

“God no. f*ck that! My plan is to just get into a division two school with a scholarship, then I can worry less about loans.”

“Oh,” replied Kyle. “I didn’t expect you to have thought out your future so well. I kind of like this new, responsible Stan.” Kyle was teasing, but he wasn’t lying about his admiration. Kyle had always liked when Stan got serious about something. It felt…manly? Kyle couldn’t exactly define the appeal, but it was one of the reasons Stan’s depressive episodes always felt like such a blow.

“Well, that’s what happens when you stop hanging out with someone in junior high. Did you think I had the same maturity as I did in eighth grade? Jesus, I was so f*cking annoying.”

“You’re still annoying now, don’t worry.” But Kyle was grinning as he said it and Stan knew he was just on a kick.

“So if you don’t want to be a football player, then what do you want to do as a career?” asked Kyle.

“I don’t know dude, maybe like computers or business, something where I make enough money to live. I don’t really care about work.” Stan brushed off the question. They were juniors in high school, he didn’t have to think about that sort of stuff right now.

“Fair enough, dude.” replied Kyle. He knew not everyone was waiting for their fresh start in college. Straight guys didn’t have the same pressure to lay low in high school.

Kyle spent the next few moments scanning Stan’s bedroom. It was a mess, as Kyle expected. There were piles of clothes, loosely organized by state of cleanliness.

This was probably a symptom of having a mom who spent as little time at home as possible. Randy and Sharon’s relationship had been strained for almost as long as Kyle had known Stan and from what he could tell, nothing had improved. When both of Stan’s parents attended football games, they usually chose to sit with their friends as opposed to each other, and that was on the rare occasion that both of them were present at the same time.

The thin walls of the farmhouse bedroom were plastered with a collage of band posters, printed out memes, and polaroid photos. The polaroids were probably from Cartman, who still fancied himself a tortured artist and would go through creative phases that didn’t include destroying people to their psyche.

The band posters were from concerts that Stan had been to. This was information that Kyle certainly didn’t gather from staring at Stan’s back at the t-shirts he wore in the classes that they did have or from stalking Stan’s social media. So Stan’s eclectic taste in music and the fact that Kenny was his de facto concert buddy were certainly not knowledge to Kyle. Kyle made himself embarrassed by recalling how much time he had spent observing Stan from afar.

Amongst the clutter, Kyle noticed Stan’s guitar. He knew that Stan still played in a band, which like most high school bands went through about three new members and six new names each year. Kenny stayed in the band and surprisingly, Jimmy. Jimmy played the drums at school during concert band season, but he refused to be the only stationary member of the marching band, so during the fall, he spent more time on his comedy. A couple of his sketches had gone pretty viral on TikTok.

Kyle knew from the battle of the bands fundraisers for school that Butters pressured him into attending, that sometimes Stan wrote his own songs still. Kyle wondered if Stan had ever written a song about him and their friendship, but that was too gay, even for him, to entertain.

Stan noticed Kyle staring at his guitar and his face lit up.

“Do you want to hear me play?!” he asked. Stan was radiating excited puppy energy and Kyle didn’t have the heart to turn him down. He figured that Stan liked playing the guitar and wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to show off. Stan loved attention.

“Sure, dude. Play ‘Wonderwall’” Kyle joked. It was admittedly a very old meme, but it was the first thing he could think of. Asking for an original song felt somehow too intimate and he didn’t know Stan’s whole musical repertoire.

Stan wasn’t sure if Kyle was being serious about that one or not, but he decided to humor him. “Anyway, here’s ‘Wonderwall.’”

And then Stan proceeded to play ‘Wonderwall.’ That childhood feeling that it was just the two of them against the world suddenly crept up around both boys. Kyle leaned back in this sonic cocoon, basking in the full attention of Stan, who was serenading him with Oasis like it was the utmost privilege to be the only one in Kyle’s vision.

Stan laid the guitar down after finishing the song and his face was flushed.

“Damn, I should have brought up some water for myself. I am going to grab one. Are you sure you don’t want one?” Stan asked Kyle.

Kyle looked lost in thought, so Stan hopped off the bed and left him there for a few seconds. He returned with two bottles of water, just in case.

And that was when Kyle started to cry. He had been wavering on the edge of an emotional breakdown when Stan left the room, but looking at those two bottles of water on the nightstand, he knew. He loved Stan. Unfortunately, now he just looked like the sort of idiot who got emotional to the song “Wonderwall.” How humiliating.

He had probably always loved Stan, even before he knew he liked boys. He certainly had loved Stan the night Stan had called him a slur and broke his heart. And because he loved Stan he couldn’t face his own feelings to reach out to Stan and heal from that night. Because admitting why Stan had hurt him meant admitting he loved him.

For his part, Stan was watching Kyle start to sob at a total loss of what was the cause. Did he not want the water? Did he hate the song that much? Did he like the song that much? Was Cartman right and Kyle did have a period and he was currently on it? Stan slid down onto the floor next to Kyle and wrapped him in a hug. His arms squeezed around the taller boy and he laid his head on Kyle’s shoulder.

“I am here for you,” he whispered. And Kyle just sobbed harder. He was so full of snot and tears that he could barely breathe. Not that it mattered. Maybe he could just die in Stan’s arms and never have to face the consequences of his realization.

Kyle didn’t die though and when he ran out of tears, he eagerly grabbed the water bottle that Stan had brought for him and gulped the water down like he was dying of thirst. Stan had to let go of him for this, but he sat back on his knees and watched his super best friend. He tilted his head to the side in concern, but he stayed quiet and just took in Kyle.

Kyle, who looked like a stretched out version of the Kyle he had grown up with, albeit with nicer styled hair. Kyle with his freckles, which were much easier to focus on than his red ringed eyes. It was weird, but for some reason he had missed this, Kyle being vulnerable. Kyle sharing his emotions with Stan.

Stan reached out his hand and grabbed the hand that Kyle was not gripping the water bottle in and squeezed. He rubbed his thumb over the back of Kyle’s hand and he decided that he was going to wait for Kyle to tell him what was wrong because when Kyle gave information it felt so much better than taking it. He thought about how long he had waited before and how painful it had been. It wouldn’t be that long this time. He wasn’t going to run this time. He was going to stay with Kyle.

Kyle was also silently deciding he wasn’t going to run. He couldn’t tell Stan the truth, but he selfishly didn’t want to remove Stan from his life again. Having Stan back felt so right. Maybe he could reconcile his love for Stan into friendship and he could stay beside Stan that way. He didn’t have to figure it out right away, but he wanted to get in control of his feelings. He couldn’t ruin things again.

Across town, two teenage boys were having a very different energy at their study session.

After his chat with Craig, Tweek had told Butters not to worry about Cartman and just keep helping Kenny study. Tweek wasn’t very good at lying, so he tried to copy Craig’s approach of saying as little as possible, but Butters was not totally convinced. It’s not that he didn’t trust his friends, it was just so hard to believe that Kyle would be wrong about a Cartman scheme. Kyle usually had a sixth sense for when Eric was up to something. Butters didn’t want to let down his friend, Kenny, though, so come Monday, the pair was at the same table in the library that they had occupied last week.

Butters also knew that people had a tendency to want to protect him. Either protect him or tear him down. There wasn’t much of an in-between. He had once asked his father why he had such an effect on people and his dad said it was probably his face and to stop looking like that if he didn’t want to get in trouble. He guessed his baby face was just a curse.

Right now, that baby face was fixed on Kenny’s, as Butters screwed up the courage to just ask Kenny about Eric directly.

“Want to kiss?” asked Kenny as he waggled his eyebrows and licked his lips.

“WHAT!?” shouted Butters, who turned bright crimson. He clapped his hands over his head to keep the thoughts inside. Could Kenny read his mind?

Someone down an aisle called to the pair that this was their first warning and if they didn’t knock off all that noise then they would have to leave.

“Jeez, Leo. I’m sorry. I’m just joking.” Kenny whispered at an almost talking level. He tried using Butters real name to show him how serious he was. Kenny knew that Butters wasn’t exactly keen on his nickname, but everyone had used it for so long that it just felt normal. Even his parents called him Butters.

Butters now looked crestfallen, and a little nervous about the threat of being kicked out of the library. Of course kissing Kenny was a joke. What could be more of a joke than kissing Butters?

“He he, sorry Kenny, I just didn’t get the joke. But I do now. It’s me.” He took a deep sigh and looked away dejectedly.

“What? No. That’s not what I am saying,” pled Kenny. “The joke was that everyone wants me, like I get passed around. You wouldn’t want to kiss me anyway, I promise you. I am full of umm… a… stranger germs! And all these piercings? It would be like kissing a pin cushion.”

“Well, now I’m just confused,” whined Butters as he pushed his hands into his cheeks. “If kissing you is so bad, then why would everyone want to do it? This is a confusing joke.”

“That’s okay, humor doesn’t have to make sense,” replied Kenny, who didn’t want to cut off the conversation, but definitely wanted to steer it in a different direction.

He totally would kiss Butters, but he knew that Butters would probably be disappointed it wasn’t a magical true love’s kiss with singing animals and glowing rays of light and musical swells. He could probably make something swell, but getting Butters going without being able to promise him that happily ever after seemed cruel.

Meanwhile, Butters had taken a paperclip off a stack of papers on the desk and was currently pushing it around his pointer finger. Kenny didn’t know what Butters was up to, so he just watched, while the bottom loop of the paperclip became a little halo for Butters finger. Then the boy slowly brought the finger to his mouth and gave it a slow, broad lick with his tongue.

Kenny thought he might die from sudden lack of blood to his head. What was this boy doing!? He gripped one hand to the edge of the desk and the other around his mechanical pencil. He prayed it wouldn’t snap in two.

Butters was now slowly sucking on his finger and he moved it around his mouth. He looked deep in thought. Then he pulled the finger out of his mouth, he kept his lips tight on the paperclip to keep it steady as he removed the pad of his finger from the metal loop. Kenny could see thin trails of spit from this transaction and he noticed some even collected on Butters bottom lip.

“Hey, Butters, what the genuine actual f*ck are you doing?” whispered Kenny through his teeth.

“Oh, well you said that kissing you was like kissing a pin cushion and we don’t have any pins around, but paperclips are stainless steel and I know body jewelry is stainless steel too alotta the time, so I figured I’d try it.” Butters suddenly became aware this might be odd behavior and started brushing his knuckles together. “I guess it’s a weird thing to do, huh?”

“Pretty freaky, but I don’t mind,” said Kenny, “So how did it taste?”

“Heck, I reckon I’d do it again,” whispered Butters with a blush.

Kenny’s mechanical pencil then snapped in two, spraying tiny shards of pencil led across the table and over the two boys. sh*tty dollar store mechanical pencils.

“sh*t!” yelled Kenny and he let out a low whistle. This commotion was enough to get the two boys kicked out of the library for the rest of the day.