#you can’t tell me he wasn’t everyone’s collective gay awakening

[janesociety]

moonwater but in an all the slytherins hogwarts students were in love with remus at one point way and not an actually romantic way

[fragilecapric0rnn]

FRIENDS AU Part 2: The One Where Eddie Copes

[part one]

[cross-posted to ao3] || word count: 3.3k

Eddie doesn’t know how long it takes for his soul to return to his body. 

It left as soon as his eyes and brain fully registered that he was suddenly in the presence of his high school crush. Right here, in the flesh, sitting in the middle of his friends in The Jittery. He can’t help but consider the fact that he may have been the one to summon him with his pathetic cry for his ex-girlfriend just moments before the incident. 

The casual, ‘You remember Eddie? From high school?’ comment from Robin sucker-punched Eddie right in the chest. The eye contact and shy smile that followed nearly sent Eddie into some sort of stress-induced cardiac arrest. 

He hardly registers the barely coherent story that Steve is trying to tell. Eddie watches him bring a glass of water to his mouth with shaky hands and tries not to stare at his lips. 

“I’m confused.” Jonathan says as Eddie starts to regain consciousness.  

Memories of his repressed gay awakening circa-1985 come flooding back with a vengeance. Sitting in the bleachers during gym class, watching this same guy flick off his t-shirt, dripping in sweat, shit-talking his opponents, shoving them around a little too rough for a gym class game of basketball. 

He adjusts how he’s sitting in the chair, right now, in 1993. Beating away the thoughts from the Ghost of Horny Moments Past, pushing away the potential for any unexplainable chubs as he tries to sit and listen to the man himself ramble about God-knows-what, soaking wet like a pathetic little kitten in the coffee shop. 

He’s going to throw up. 

Or pass out. 

Possibly both.

Thankfully, everyone’s attention is on the runaway bride, too distracted to notice that he’s in crisis. 

“It makes perfect sense to me.” Argyle shrugs, handing Steve a giant ceramic cup. 

“Just run it by us one more time.” 

Steve takes a comically large sip from his mug, holds the coffee in his cheeks, making them puff out and Eddie is convinced that this is some sort of punishment for all of his mistakes. 

“You know, they always told me that cold feet are normal. That’s what they all say about  getting married, that you get cold feet. Well, I realized when I woke up this morning, after having a very vivid and intense dream about Harrison Ford, that maybe my feet were never really that warm to begin with, ya know?” 

Everyone is nodding, as if they do know. Nancy has her eyebrows knitted together, Robin looks a bit too amused, Jonathan looks confused, and Argyle is casually dipping his tea bag into his mug, like this is a normal thing unfolding in front of them.

“Look, I was in a frat in college. I am very comfortable with my sexuality or whatever and I didn’t let the dream sway any decision making at that moment.”

Eddie resists the urge to ask him what exactly this sexuality is. 

“So it wasn’t Harrison…” Nancy presses, her hand motioning as if to say, 'Please continue this batshit story.'

“It wasn’t him,” He takes a sip from his mug, the rest of the group inches closer. “It happened about 10 minutes later, when Lola was knocking on my door, standing there in tears.”

“Fuck,” Robin drags out the word, Jonathan lets out a low whistle.

“Turns out, she also had lukewarm feet throughout most of our relationship. She wanted to call it off. And that’s when I knew we had to. Because any normal fiance would’ve freaked the fuck out, right? Would’ve started begging or pleading or yelling or something! But I had nothing. Nothing but relief.” 

The collective air in the room deflates. 

“So, we devised a plan. We’d both get ready, business as usual. And I’d be the one to sneak out of the bathroom window in the groom’s suite. Before we realized it was on the second story of the hotel.” 

He shrugs, as Eddie studies his attire a little closer, seeing he does have twigs and a smattering of leaves on his now-discarded jacket.

“Steve, I know you’re vulnerable and whatever,” Robin says, pausing when Nancy smacks her arm. “But, why here? Why us?” Motioning between her and Nancy.

He chuckles, eyes now looking down into his cup. Eddie can't help but stare at this very odd man sitting in front of him.

“I don’t know. I guess it was mostly because I knew you lived in the city. But there’s another part of me that knew you’d understand. You were one of the only people I’ve ever met that tried understanding me for me. Not what you wanted me to be.” 

And that's, wow. Why on Earth would he say something like that? Now Eddie has to cope with the fact that not only is this dude still hot, he sounds sweet as hell. 

“C’mon, let’s get you up to the apartment.” 

He can’t cope. 

- 

“Mom, you’re gonna need to stop crying or hand the phone back to dad.” Steve pleads. He's been on the phone for about an hour at this point, everyone else scattered around Nancy's apartment, listening.

Eddie, most of the shock worn off by now, is sitting at Nancy’s kitchen table, eating a pie straight from the tin and unable to tear his eyes away from the train wreck that is Steve Harrington, still in his damp clothes, but stripped down to an undershirt and the tux pants and no shoes or socks.

Watches him keep tugging hard at his hair every time a muffled yell comes out of the phone, loud enough for everyone in the room to hear. 

No wonder this guy ran away. 

Robin sits backwards on the chair next to Eddie’s as Steve stumbles out of the window onto the terrace, where the rain has somewhat let up.  

“Do you think he’s gay?” He asks as soon as Steve is fully outside. 

“Definitely not straight." Robin plucks the fork from Eddie's hand.

Jonathan shrugs, sighing as he finally sets the change of clothes down on the table and takes a seat.. He has been holding a change of clothes from his apartment in his hands for at least a half hour, waiting for Steve to get off the phone with his parents. 

"I mean, who talks about Harrison Ford in the same breaths as explaining why you ran away from your wedding?” He says, stealing the fork from Robin. 

“I never think about Harrison Ford unless I’m watching him on tv. And even then I barely think about him.” 

“Does that answer your question?” 

Before Eddie can say, not really, his thoughts are interrupted by a commotion coming from the other side of the room where the bedroom doors are closed.

Nancy comes out of the spare room, curly hair frizzier than it had been on the way up the stairs from the coffee shop, rubbing her temples and pulling on her face as she joins the group in the living room. 

“Are they still arguing?” She asks, craning her neck to get a better look at him out on the terrace. He’s still gesturing wildly, doing a lot more yelling. 

“I think so?” Robin turns her head like a confused dog, watching him gesture wildly with his free hand. 

“One minute he’s telling his dad that he doesn’t want to live like him and then it sounds like his mom is crying, I think he talked to his old nanny at one point?” 

“His parents sound like a mess.” Eddie says, earning three different versions of a 'no-duh' look from his friends.

“Have you seen the apple? What kinda tree do you think it fell from?” Jonathan says, passing the fork back to Eddie, which is then snatched away by Nancy. She takes the pie tin from them, putting it back in the fridge. 

They can hear the window opening and Steve falling back inside, silent cursing to himself. 

“No dad, you listen!” All their heads snap in the direction of Steve. Once again, soaking wet. His face is red, his already big hair standing up in every direction, and an insane look on his eyes.

Are his pupils dilated?

“Fine! I don’t care, I don’t care anymore! Cut me off! I don’t care! You know what,” Steve struggles to get his wallet out of his pocket, pauses and just throws the wallet across the room. Muffled yelling comes from the phone. “I'm snapping my credit cards right fucking now!" 

"I’ll stay here, with Nancy and Robin and you can take that inheritance and shove it up your ass!” Steve hangs up the phone and throws it onto the loveseat next to him. 

No one moves. No one speaks. The air is still, but only for a moment.

“I think this is where the sitcom audience would clap.” Eddie forgot Argyle has been laying down on the couch this entire time. Steve’s red face suddenly looks sickly pale. 

"I think I'm gonna be sick."

Jonathan and Nancy hop up from their spots, Robin hands him a brown paper bag, and they guide him to the couch. Eddie watches this all unfold, lingering in the background. Not one for comfort, especially being the king of mommy and daddy issues, without the complicated mess of being a trust fund baby, he has nothing helpful to add. 

“It’s gonna be okay, just try taking deep breaths.” 

Steve nods, the paper bag inflating and deflating slower, but still rather fast. 

“Would it help if I sang a song?” 

The bag inflates and deflates even slower, everyone just sort of stares at Argyle. 

“Don’t worry, about a thing, because every little thing, is gonna be alright.” Steve slowly brings the paper bag down, rests his hand on Argyle’s forearm.  

“I think I’m okay now, thank you.” He visibly winces at the lackluster Bob Marley

“Don’t mention it, mon.” 

For some godforsaken reason, Steve looks right at Eddie as they make the same face, an eyebrow hiked up to their hairlines, the physical embodiment of a scoff without actually scoffing. All while making eye contact with each other. 

Eddie looks away quickly, jumping out of the chair so fast that it scrapes against the floor, startling everyone in the room. 

“What am I gonna do?” He sounds panicked. 

“We’re gonna help you figure it out,” Jonathan says, sat on the coffee table across from him. 

“You can stay here with me, Jonathan and Robin live across the hall, it’ll be fun.” Nancy is patting his arm. 

“But what about money? I have none of that!” 

“There are these things called jobs,” Eddie says, Nancy snaps her head around and damn-near snarls at him. Steve’s brown paper bag is back to inflating and deflating. 

The phone rings, saving Eddie from immediate doom via-Nancy Wheeler. 

Nancy looks at the time and is now the one to get up from her seat next to Steve like something bit her on the ass.

“Shit! Shit shit shit!”

“What's with all the shit, Wheeler?” Eddie asks, Nancy flipping him off as the phone continues to ring in her hand.

“I forgot to call Frank and cancel.”

“Who’s Frank?” 

“My date,” she says, immediately sending Eddie a scrunched up face and mouthing sorry.  

“Wait wait wait, Frank? As in, Frank the Creepy Paper Salesman?” Robin hops over the backside of the couch, falling into Nancy. The phone stops ringing. Nancy takes a deep breath, closing her eyes and looking up at the ceiling.

Creepy was a generous assessment of the piece of work that is Frank. Asking Nancy on dates ever since she started working at The Times, stopping by the office ad nauseam, so much so, he has become a regular fixture in the lore surrounding Nancy's office.

“Yes, that Frank.” 

“Is the dating well running that dry Nance? So dry you finally said yes to Frank the creepy paper salesman?” 

“Listen, he caught me in a momentary lapse of judgment.”

“Were you conscious during this lapse?” 

"Fully, I just. It's been a while since I'd been on a date and my mom would not stop pestering me about it on the phone literal minutes, seconds even, before Frank showed up to talk to my boss. So, when he did his usual creep routine of asking me out, I said yes."

“Was he as surprised as we are?” Eddie asks, Nancy nods, wincing. 

"And are you regretting the yes?"

"Fully!" 

The phone is ringing again. 

“Hello,” she answers, sounding like she has a congested nose. “Hi Frank, yeah, I’m not feeling that well. Yeah, maybe we can postpone. I’ll call you, yeah.” 

“I’m sorry Nancy, I know this was kinda my fault.” Steve’s voice continues to be muffled by the bag. 

“I can’t believe you thought I’d be upset about you going out with Frank the Creep.” Eddie sits back down in the kitchen chair. Is he really that fragile? Can his friends really not share their downfalls with him like they used to? 

“I don’t know! You freaked when Robin went on a date with Tam-” 

“Aht! Aht!” Robin waves her hands in the air, almost elbowing Steve. “We are not talking about my dating life. I am striking this down immediately!” 

“Point still stands, then. You’re still very upset about Michelle.” And the sound of her name feels like a cartoon anvil dropping inside of his stomach, dropping and dropping. 

“We are not gonna talk about Michelle right now.” He deadpans. 

“Who’s Michelle?” Steve asks, paper bag back in front of his face, inflating and deflating as he speaks.  All of the air has been kicked out of Eddie’s lungs. 

“Eddie’s ex,” Argyle whispers loudly, with no effort made to keep Eddie from hearing him. 

“We are not talking about Michelle right now!” Eddie yells. Everyone goes quiet. 

“Right now we are going to focus on getting Steve to stop breathing into a paper fucking bag!” 

To which they all look over at Steve, who is staring at everyone with wide eyes and the bag no longer dramatically inflating and deflating, just held to his mouth as he stares around the room. 

“I’m actually starting to feel a little better.” He says, into the bag. Inflating and deflating. 

-

-

-

Across the hall, Eddie has his feet kicked up on Jonathan and Robin’s couch, hands linked and resting on his stomach. His head in Robin’s lap and his feet on Jonthan’s lap, staring up at the ceiling where he can see a spaghetti stain splattered across the asbestos pattern. 

Jeopardy is playing in the background but none of them are paying attention. Argyle is sat on the floor, head close to Eddie’s as they all pass around a joint. 

“So, you let her take the TV, the bedroom set, and the living room set. What do you even have left at your place?” 

“Pots and pans?” 

“Dude,” Argyle blows a ring of smoke in the air. “That is so not cool.” He passes Eddie the joint.

“I felt bad. It’s my fault we’re in this situation.” 

“There are no faults, and yet you’re still punishing yourself.” Jonathan says, eyes glued to the TV, a familiar spacey look on his face. 

Argyle checks his watch and gets up from the floor, patting around his pockets. 

“Looks like it’s time for me to head out, Aunt Miriam is making midnight spaghetti and I wanna get there before her boyfriend eats all the garlic bread.” 

“Midnight spaghetti?” and “Your great aunt has a boyfriend?” are asked by Eddie and Robin respectively at the same time. 

“See ya man,” Jonathan yells as the door shuts behind him. 

Robin knocks on Eddie’s head lightly before pushing him off of her, stretching and yawning as she stands. 

“I’m gonna go raid Nance’s for some more beers,” He swings he feet off of Jonathan’s lap and stretches. 

“I’ll get your pillow and blankey situated,” Robin says. Eddie half turns to send her a salute before shutting the door, opening the one across the hall almost in one fell swoop. 

He doesn’t expect to see Steve still up, sitting at the same kitchen chair he spent most of the afternoon and evening in. Most of the color returned to face, a glass of wine and an open bottle on the table. 

“Hey,” He says, curious and careful

“Hi.” Steve smiles warmly at him, gesturing the bottle at him, Eddie takes it as an invitation. 

“You alright?” He grabs a wine glass from Nancy’s hanging glass rack. 

“Yeah, couldn’t sleep.” 

“Why? A lot on your mind?” Eddie takes the seat across form him. 

“You’re funny,” Steve fills Eddie’s glass. “I remember you being kinda funny in high school.” To that, Eddie fakes a dagger to the heart, startling Steve a bit, who is looking at Eddie with the same type of amusement that everyone looked at him with a few hours ago. 

“If seventeen-year-old-me heard you say that you remembered me at all from high school, there’d be an Eddie shaped hole in that door.” Eddie takes a swig from his wine, thanking whoever is in charge of the universe that it's red wine, giving him an explanation for the blush already blooming on his face. Well, a better explanation than a cute guy laughing at his silly jokes. 

“Of course I remember you, how could I forget all those lunchtime sermons about how cool and different you were and how lame and boring the rest of us were.” Steve says, not hiding how much it he seems to enjoy that the little walk down memory lane has started to make Eddie visibly cringe.

“Don’t remind me of that,” Eddie groans into his glass. 

“You seem a lot softer now.” 

Eddie drags his eyes up from where they were studying the knick in the the wood on the table, meeting Steve’s gaze. 

“You caught me at a soft time in my life, Harrington.”

“Right,” Steve leans back in his chair, brings his own glass to his lips, pausing to take a sip. “Your ex.” 

“Yep, my ex.” 

“Did she just, totally break your heart?” He asks, throwing Eddie off guard a bit. He didn't expect Steve to be so forward with his nosiness. Kinda respects it. 

“No, it was more like. I broke my own heart.” 

“What does that even mean?” 

He looks at Steve. Really looks at him, and can almost see the kindness actually spilling out of those pretty brown eyes, how he came to Robin and Nancy specifically to help him out, knowing that they would. 

“It means, I realized that she’s not really my type after all. After eight years together, I finally realized that I am g-” he clears his throat. 

“That I’m gay. No matter how much I love her, no amount is going to change the fact that I wasted both of our time.” 

Eddie can’t bear to look up at Steve, but feels his eyes on him. 

The glug glug sound of wine pouring out of the bottle breaks the silence, Eddie finally looks up. 

“You need it more than I do,” Steve says, taking a swig from the bottle, tipping it over the table to show that it’s now empty. 

This makes Eddie laugh. A full belly laugh that seems to be contagious, as Steve’s now laughing, a snort escaping his nose and mouth, making the two laugh even harder. 

“You guys, seriously?” Nancy comes out of her room, robe on and rollers in her hair. “Some of us have to work in the morning!” 

“Sorry Nance, we’ll keep it down.” 

“Sorry.” 

She looks at them, her face softens with look of mild bewilderment. Stands there for a few seconds longer than she otherwise would’ve, before wordlessly going back into her bedroom. 

“That reminds me, I need to get one of those.” Steve says as her door clicks shut. 

“One of what?” 

“A job, or something.” 

“I can put a good word in for you at a few places.” He says, taking a big gulp from the very full wine glass. 

“Thanks, Eddie.” 

He can’t help but think maybe, just maybe, he will be able to cope with Steve being around. 

[someobscurereference]

Let's deviate from our OT3s and Xander/Laslow for a bit, what are your thoughts on Niles/Selena? Because Niles is noted as the one who stares at the moon the most and Selena/Luna means Moon sooo..... also, who else do you ship the trio with? Why?

I haven’t thought about Niles/Selena too much! At least not in fic writing terms. I actually do like their Supports though! Neither Niles or Selena ever hold back in what they want to say. It’s an interesting combination! I even like their S Support, despite how sudden it is (though most S Supports are arguably just as sudden. I like that Selena acknowledges it with “You were calling me selfish and impatient, like, five minutes ago!” and then relenting because Niles is like “but I’m also selfish and impatient” and Selena does like the confidence. That interaction has made me laugh before.) So it’s not something that really crosses my mind, but I could get behind it, yeah!

Actually, I could probably get behind most things, lol. I have ships I gravitate towards naturally, but like I’ve said before, I can be convinced by just about anything, tbh. Nothing is a joke to me. It’ll start out as a joke for sure! But then it’ll inevitably turn into “Haha, wouldn’t that be funny? Haha, could you imagine? Could… Could you imagine? ….Could you?” And then I ship it. It’s happened to me many a time over the years.

I think the one “het” (depends on how you hc their sexuality bc I don’t default to straight for anybody) ship I actually get behind on my own is Severa/Owain. I really liked their Supports in Awakening and the implication that even if their S Support never happens, Severa did have a crush on Owain for a while and did carve his name into her blade a long time before its revealed. Plus when Severa explains why she likes Owain, she says, “Because you’ve always been nice to me, even when I wasn’t. Because you’re a person I’ve always been able to trust, no matter what.” I really liked that. It makes me think about their past and personalities and how even if they’re not tight friends who hang out together on the regular, Severa has always seen Owain as someone reliable and who has treated her kindly, no matter how rude she is to him or others. I’m sure there were times Severa said things she didn’t mean or should have phrased better or shouldn’t have said at all but couldn’t bring herself to apologize bc she didn’t know how. (These things just “pop out,” she says.) But with Owain, maybe that was never as much of a problem. Actually, I could probably write a lot more here, but I’ll try to keep this one short. There are just a lot of lines in their Support I really liked, and they felt natural to me. 

But branching off from that! Like I’ve mentioned before, I also like Saizlow. Also Inigo/Gerome in their Awakening days. (These two kind of tie into together as me thinking Laslow has a type and that type is “redheads in masks who can push him around.” Also the fact Inigo canonically would have stayed in the Bad Timeline if Gerome hadn’t come back with the whole group still haunts me.) Also Laslow/Keaton for some reason? Because I like the idea of Laslow kind of obliviously stumbling into a relationship with his kind of beefy werewolf boyfriend, I guess? IDK, lol. I like that event though Keaton has caused Laslow trouble with the less desirable parts of his treasure collection and Laslow is always telling him to keep the bugs away, Laslow basically always lets Keaton hang with him anyway. Even Keaton acknowledges in their A Support that not everyone does that. They also genuinely have fun together in their A Support even though Laslow acknowledges that he doesn’t fully understand Keaton. But he likes that Keaton is having a good time anyway, so that makes him happy too. I liked that too!

I liked Severa/Noire in Awakening too! Their Support was just Severa supporting Noire and both of them feeling good about it, no matter how much Severa “grumbled” about it. They’d clearly been good friends for a while! They’d be good girlfriends too! I almost wrote a fic in my Awakening days but never finished, rip. I also saw Severa/Lucina art and while I don’t think I ever read anything with them, that was really good too. 

This is still mostly Awakening talk, but I like Owain/Brady too! I really like crybaby characters, actually. The crybaby healer who calls out the “hero” whenever he breaks character! I like that! Also like that their moms are good friends too. I always mean to write more Owain/Brady but I often end up having no plot for them. I just want it.

This one is also out of left field and it was the gay fates hack that made me ship it, but…. I also like Owain/Laurent. I have almost no basis for this other than I just do, even as a passing Awakening relationship that doesn’t continue into Fates. I have this scene that plays out in my head now and again of the Fates crew being trapped in a dungeon somewhere (a place they can’t escape from or w/e) and playing truth or dare and Odin picks dare and Laslow says “I dare you to tell me whether or not you really slept with Laurent that one time” bc this is a question he’s been saving for literal years. And Odin won’t answer directly (Laslow: “That means yes”) and everyone else is like “Laurent? Whomst??” except for Selena who’s like “oh my gods did you really” while Odin sweats. It could even be Modern Trio AU. Or Canon AU. Whatever. I don’t know why but I constantly think about Owain/Laurent, but I do!! But I don’t have any fics I wanna write besides that short scene (that might definitely work better as modern AU? Now we’re getting off track with how I have two different Owain defaults and this is getting too long.) But anyway they’re like my bane. I can’t stop thinking about them.

For the Trio, I guess it’s mostly Awakening ships, haha. But like I said, I’ll ship just about anything if given enough time! I hope that helps!

[magicalcreeks]

Cargo Car Confessions

Day 1: October 15 -First Time-

Summary: When Kenny ditches his bad date he relies on Stan and weed to make him feel better, even if that required them sharing embarrassing confessions and perhaps a kiss.

I’m so excited for @stenny-week and in some places it’s October 15th already so i wanted to post early! Please enjoy!

...

Stan had just stolen the ball from Cartman, blocking him from behind as he clutched the ball in his chest before thrusting it forward in a successful pass. Kyle caught the ball with ease— that was just one of the many perks to being on the basketball team— then he jumped off his back foot to slam dunk the ball into the hoop. The force of the dunk caused the hoop to shutter. it loosened the black sticky tape used to keep the hoop together after years of abuse and neglect.

“This is bullshit!” Cartman huffed with a healthy sheen of sweat coating his face, giving him the appearance of grease-soaked tomato.

“Sorry, dude. We won.” Stan stopped the ball with his foot then picked it up with his hands. Kyle did his winning trot towards Stan, holding his hand out for a high five, “good job, man.”

Cartman wasn’t done with his childish protest, “well!” He began, searching for the words he wanted to say before stammering at the two pairs of eyes staring at him, “well...” again, he struggled, wishing Kenny was here to back him up.

“It’s not a fair game because Kenny isn’t here!” A-ha, he got them now. Kyle and Stan moved over to the bench where Kyle dabbed his forehead and neck with the towel he brought with him. Stan tossed him an extra Gatorade.

“Kenny’s not here because he’s on a date.”

“Exactly, which means we’re down a player, which also means it’s not fair game.”

Stan and Kyle exchanged a look.

“Whatever, dude.”

“Ya know what, screw you guys! I’m going home!” Was Cartman’s declaration. He kicked aside an empty can of beer left by either upperclassmen or a drunken adult. It was hard to tell nowadays.

Kyle rolled his eyes, pushing up a stack of curls that have fallen from his loose bun, “you can’t go home, fatass, all of our shit is at your house.”

“Can’t hear you! I’m busy going home, you gaywads!”

Stan felt three pulses from his pocket, ignoring his friends bickering to divert his attention to the texts he was receiving. His body shifted sideways on the bench, heart racing with excitement as he half expected the texts to be from Wendy. Perhaps she wanted to get back together even though they broke up in middle school. She made it clear that she had no intention of being his boyfriend, even going out with Token of all people, until he suddenly had some sexual awakening; realizing he would rather suck dick instead of being with one of the hottest girls in school.

He rolled his eyes hard, taking on one of Kyle’s many mannerisms as he recalled past events. Cartman and Kyle’s idle chatter sounded nothing more than muffled sounds— like someone yelling behind a thick glass. Stan unlocked his phone.

Kenny: Hey, man, you busy?

Kenny: wanna meet me at our spot?

Kenny: nvm, ur probs with Kyle and Cartfuck—

A quiet chuckle escaped Stan’s parted lips. He continued to read the text:

Kenny: — u know where I am. Ps. I got weed ;)

His eyes glossed over those messages more times then Stan could count, “Stan? Stan? What the hell are you smiling at? It’s kinda creepy.”

Kyle was left standing in front of him with a slight concern dampening his features. The towel he’d previously used now slung around his neck, pale and covered with speckles of faint brown freckles.

“Uh...” Stan licked his lips, contemplating an excuse he could tell his best friend and have it sound believable. They knew each other like the back of their hands. Literally. He pocketed his phone, rubbing sweaty palms on his sweats.

The weather in South Park had been warmer than usual considering it was the middle of October. While Halloween decor met the eyes of anyone passing through their neighborhood, some houses started early with stabbing turkey and pilgrim lawn ornaments in their front yards. Global warming, said Randy like a scratched record over their dreaded dinners. According to him, it was real and ready to fuck us raw in the ass.

Kyle tapped his foot impatiently for an answer, hands resting subconsciously on his hips. His posture resembling one of his mothers when she was about to scowl them. Stan snorted.

“I gotta go, uh, my sister wants me to pick her up a box of tampons?” As he spoke aloud it sounded more ridiculous then it had in his head. What the hell, Stan? Your sisters in college you dumb fuck.

“She’s back for Halloweengivings... My parents thought it would be better to combine both holidays. Nothing better than carving a pumpkin and shoveling down cranberry sauce.”

Kyle blinked, “Uh, okay?”

“Great!” Stan shot up from his seat, giving Kyle a pat on the shoulder, “I’ll text you later, dude!”

He walked with a quickened pace, afraid that Kyle would try to stop him for questions. Sometimes he nagged more than he realized, even though he was only trying to be a good friend. A rain of guilt washed over Stan for lying to Kyle. He lied before. Plenty of times actually.

Once safely around the corner of the block, Stan made haste to Kenny doing god knows what by himself when he was supposed to be on his date with Tammy. Without a doubt she was hot, returning to South Park after moving to California. When she returned she developed an ego bigger than Cartman’s ass, along with an attitude comparing to none of the other girls in their grade. California changes people. Too bad she was still a slut.

At least that’s what the girls said.

Stan slowed his walking. He sniffed the burning grass as he approached their spot— the abandoned railway just minutes away from Kenny’s house. Tilting his head up at one of the many cargo cars rusted from years of weather damaged, he recognized the graffiti drawn on the sides. As well as the smell.

“You got a head start without me, asshole?” His voice echoed through the abandoned field of cars, picking up a rock to chuck at the rusted door. It bounced off the metal with a loud hallowed clink.

“Stan the man.” Kenny pulled the door aside, greeting his friend with widespread arms. Stan felt his heart thump.

“Move aside.” He hoisted his body up, then knee crawled over to his respective end of the car. Stan knocked aside the junk they collected; consisting of empty bottles of wine stolen from his dad, single cans of beer Kenny snagged from Kevin’s pack which steadily grew into a rather nice collection for them, darts, slingshots, and a bunch of other shit.

Kenny closed the door after Stan was in. Instead of relying on the crack of light from the setting sun, the inside of the car was illuminated with a string of Christmas lights connected to a lengthy power cord hooked up to Kenny’s house. Together they had made the perfect “man” cave.  

“I thought you were on a date,” Stan said, knees hugging his chest as if he was intruding in the space they created together. Those nauseating butterflies returned to flutter around his stomach.

“I was, then I left.” Kenny passed over the joint sloppily rolled together as if he had done it halfheartedly to quickly get the relief he desired. Stan was no expert at rolling anything. Even he knew it wasn’t his best work.

Kenny hooked a section of his sandy blonde hair behind his ear, exposing the multiple piercings neatly aligned on his outer lobe. He’s done all his piercings himself. Stan bummed off the joint. He attempted to quiet his mind from the indirect kiss from Kenny by smoking it out with the burning kush.

“She’s a bitch. There’s a big difference between being with her to get my dick sucked and actually pursuing a relationship.” Kenny spoke with a bitterness behind his words, “I don’t know. I thought it would be easier to ask her out considering we had a thing before. She’s changed.”

Stan shrugged, slouching back with eased muscles as the joint burned slowly between his fingers, “so you text me?”

A lopsided grin stretched across Kenny’s face, showing off the tooth missing from an accident he had when they were kids and crooked teeth unfixed from his families lack of money to get him braces.

“Of course! You’re my best friend after all. Besides, you wouldn’t judge me like Kyle would.”

“Yeah...” Stan’s voice trailed, eyes following the posters they tapped on the car walls, “he can’t help himself.”

“Yeah, he really can’t.”

They sat in the comfortable silence they created, the two of them passing the blunt back and forth until it became roach and they could no longer smoke it. Their minds were hazed yet relaxed. Nowadays drugs were the only thing able to ease their teenage minds from the angst and stress. Stan found this to be his only escape from the suffering thoughts thanks to his depression and anxiety. Kenny smoked for his own reasons. He just wanted to chill from time to time.

“I thought you were Wendy.” He spoke slow and a bit sluggish, tongue untied and free.

“I thought you were over her, man. She’s no good for you.”

“I love her...” Stan admitted, clutching the fabric on his grey sweats between his hands. He still loved her, he always will.

Kenny spun the dart between his fingers, eyes locked on the boy across from him.

“I could... distract you.” His offer did not go without the flush of red spreading across his cheeks.

“I’m not... I’m not gay.” Stan’s throat tightened and suffocated his words.

“Neither am I... I mean... I think everyone is hot. Guys, Girls, and those in between.” Kenny admitted, crawling over towards Stan to take a seat next to him. They were close enough in the cargo car that Stan could smell the scent of aftershave emitting from Kenny’s body. He felt his stomach twist and turn at two things. Kenny’s confession and the fact they were so close to one another.

He was hot, funny, and Stan could always be himself around him. Instead of Kenny judging or trying to diagnosis his problems like Kyle, Wendy, or his parents, he was allowed to rant and cry out of frustration. They related to each other. Their lives at home sucked just as bad as their friends.

Stan was not gay. From what he knew he was straight with only a few gay mishaps. An embarrassing mishap being the time he got a boner during a sleepover at Kyle’s house. He accidentally walked in on him changing and caught a glimpse of everything. They swore to never speak of it for the sake of not making their sleepover painfully awkward, but Stan could not shake the mental image from his mind as he used his imagination to relieve himself once Kyle had fallen asleep.

Then there was that one time when he was still on the football team and they traveled to Denver to play against their best high school team. He was sharing a room with Craig, Clyde, and Token— to his utter despair since they only spoke in inside jokes which made Stan feel like an outsider. Stan discovered a gay magazine that must have fallen out of one of their bags. While they were fucking around in the pool he stayed behind in the room and allowed his curiosity to roam. He liked what he saw.

Kenny inched closer, resting a hand on Stan’s thigh but doing nothing more because he did not want to do anything if Stan wasn’t comfortable. He did like Stan. A lot.

In those seconds they both sobered up, blue eyes meeting a mysterious purple, adding to the many features Stan loved about him.

“I- I never kissed a guy before.”

Kenny chuckled, “it’s just like kissing a girl, except... Girls taste sweeter. Sort of like fruit because they wear chapstick and shit. Except for Craig-”

“Wait, you kissed Craig?” Stan questioned in disbelief. The weird competition he and Craig had with one another flaring like a newly lit flame ignited from jealousy.

“Spin the bottle. He tasted like a fucking fruitcake.”

Stan chewed on his lower lip. “Since we’re confessing I only kissed Wendy once... And Kyle. We practiced on each other when we were kids.”

“I thought you said you never kissed a guy?”

“T-That doesn’t count! We’re like super best friends so it wasn’t a real kiss!” Stan felt himself get defensive, not appreciating the skeptical looks Kenny was giving him. It was completely normal and not gay for friends to practice on one another.

“Chill, I’m joking-“

Stan silenced him with a kiss. Tensions melted away at the contact of their lips. Kenny tasted as sweet as old candy, also weed. Creating a strange yet familiar flavor. His tongue swept the bottom of his lip, making Stan look more confident than what he was.

Kenny pressed in, moving his tongue around for an entrance into his mouth. Their kiss was sloppy, awkward— because of the angle they were in— but exhilarating.

When they pulled apart for air, Stan was as winded as he was during his game with Kyle and Cartman. He had never experienced a kiss quite like that.

“How was I...?” What else could he say? He and Kenny just kissed for fucksake! Was he going to say thank you?

“Kissing Kyle really helped.” Kenny joked, nearly falling to his side from the playful shove from Stan.

“You weren’t so bad either. That was like my first real kiss, dude, so I guess you took my kissing virginity.”

“You’re so lame.”

Stan flipped him off, hugging his body with his hands. He just kissed Kenny. Him and Kenny, lips locked, in full make out. What were they now?

“You okay?” Kenny pried one of Stans' hands out from his weird human arm wrap, playing with his fingers before sliding his own in between. There was no way he could know how Stan feels now but he only dreamed about being his boyfriend, fantasizing about the pathetic crush he had since they were 13 years old.

“So are we dating?” Stan blurted. He was unable to look at Kenny’s eyes just in case he said no or something else which might break his heart for the second time.

“I would say we are... if you want too. We don’t have to tell the guys yet if you’re not ready.”

“So...” his tone a childlike whisper, “I guess this means I’m gay? Do I have to have, like, a big coming out party.”

Kenny smiled, “you don’t have to put a label on everything. Look at me. Who cares if you’re straight, gay, or bi. Be with whoever makes you happy.”

Stan nodded. He unraveled from his hold around his body to lean into Kenny, holding his hand tight. Right now he didn’t want to think. He just wanted to close his eyes and enjoy the moment.

“I’m going to punch Craig for kissing you, I hope you know that.” He murmured, knocking his shoe against Kenny’s.

“It was two years ago, babe. Besides, I would much rather kiss my boyfriend then Tucker.”

Stan’s heart raced again. Boyfriend. That’s right. They were boyfriends now. The title sounded like music to his ears.

Eat shit Craig Tucker.

...