Lame fic lol
I should post here more often...
I wrote this one when I was in a slump. It came out REALLY bad, so I didn't submit it to FF.net. I think I wrote that when I thought to myself that Kyle isn't necessarily a smart kid. I don't remember if I finsihed it, maybe there was suppsed to be more to this fic...
Anyhow, it's lame, and I post it here only because I feel like I should post SOMETHING.
So uh... yeah.
Grammar ir probably horrilbe, and there are some unfitting words I didn't feel like changing.
School sucked for many reasons. The building itself was colored a depressing gray, and the inside was colored a sickening, bright yellow. The students were complete assholes, most of them, at least, and the teachers didn't have the slightest clue about teaching. But what Kyle Broflovski hated the most about school, was the exams. Endless and tiring exams, and he had to score B or higher for his parents not to yell at him that he was slacking off. He was an average kid, not too smart and not too stupid. Since he wasn't too smart, he had to study really hard to get a good grade.
And he hated it.
It took most of his day. He wanted to watch TV, play video games, hang out with Stan… but most certainly not sit down and study.
He sighed. He had an English exam the day after, and studying the meaning of various poems wasn't really his idea of a good time. His mind wandered somewhere else as he drew lines and circles on a blank paper and yawned out of boredom. He would give anything, anything to not do the stupid exam on Friday. If only he were Stan…
Not that he was jealous of Stan in general, just on this particular day. His raven-haired best friend was currently lying in his bed with a burning forehead, caused by a bad case of flu. Kyle always thought that South Park residents were immune to flu, having living in the fucking cold for most days of the year, but apparently that wasn't true.
So Stan would do that exam on another time, while he'll have to do it tomorrow with most of the class… a thing which he really did not feel like doing.
An idea formed in his head. He should go to Stan, sit in his room and make the sick boy cough on him violently so he'd be able to get sick himself. He smirked to himself. He closed the book, put on his shoes quickly and grabbed his coat from the bed, where he threw it when he came back home from school. He grabbed his schoolbag and ran down the stairs, yelling to his younger brother, who was zoning out in front of this stupid reality show or another, that he was leaving and ran out, feeling free as the cold wind blew at his face. He smiled widely and made his way to Stan's house.
Stan's mother, Sharon, opened him the door and smiled as she saw him. He smiled back. He loved Sharon Marsh, she was very nice and accepting, and not stressing like his own mother. Plus, she was always kind to him. Of course, it could have been because Kyle was a mere guest in their house whenever he was there, and as a host she had to be nice, but still, Stan almost never complained about her. "Hello Mrs. Marsh!" he greeted, looking down since he got a bit taller than her.
"Oh, hello Kyle," she said back, but still didn't open the door fully for him to come in. "Stan's sick," she finished.
"Yeah, I know," he replied and pointed at his blue schoolbag, flashing her a row of white teeth. "I came to bring him some homework from the classes I have with him."
"Oh, you're so kind!" she said, but her smile fell. "But a flu is very contagious, I don't want you to get sick. Can you do it over the phone, maybe?"
He shook his head. "No, I have to explain him some stuff I think he'll have trouble figuring out on his own." She frowned, and he elaborated quickly. "I mean, he wasn't in the class when they were explained, so…"
"Well," she put her hand to her mouth. "I suppose you can see him for a few minutes…"
"Thanks!" he said and entered as Stan's mother stepped to the side and allowed him to set a foot on her carpet. He followed her up the stairs to his friend's room, wondering what would be Stan's reaction when his plan will unfold.
Stan's mother opened the door slowly, and signaled for Kyle to follow her quietly inside. Kyle's heart sunk when he saw Stan lying on his bed, sleeping. He was pale and sweat made his face shine. His mother put her hand on his forehead and sighed heavily. "It won't come down," she said with a frown. Then she shook him gently and called his name until he opened his eyes groggily with a groan. "Stan, honey?" she asked tentatively. "Kyle's here to see you."
Stan turned his head to look at Kyle, who was still standing by the door as if afraid to come any closer. "Hi," he said quietly, his voice hoarse. Kyle managed a smile back.
"I'm going to make you some tea," Stan's mom said and ran her hand through her son's black hair gently. He smiled at her as she turned around and left.
Kyle eyed the door for a minute, as if suspicious. "You look like shit, dude," he said as he turned his gaze back to his sick friend.
Stan chuckled. "Thanks," he replied. Kyle advanced towards his bed and threw his schoolbag on the floor. Stan's brow furrowed. "You didn't come here to bring me homework, did you?" he asked and coughed.
Kyle flinched at the sound and shook his head. "Hell no, you have enough troubles as it is." He waited for Stan's coughs to subdue before he continued. "I came to get sick myself."
Stan stared at him oddly. "What?" he asked.
"I came to get sick," Kyle repeated himself. "Remember the exam we have tomorrow?" Stan nodded. "Well, I don't wanna do it," he finished simply. Stan seemed puzzled, and Kyle sighed heavily. "I'm going to get your flu," he said and sat on the bed.
"You don't want it, dude," Stan said, chuckling again. "I feel like shit."
Kyle shrugged. "Believe me, I do. Very much."
"But you'll have to do that exam, anyway." Stan argued.
"Yeah, but not tomorrow. Come on, dude! I'm not asking for much." He put his hand on the other side of the bed, shifting his weight so now he was above Stan and could look straight into his eyes.
Stan's faced reddened. "W-what are you doing?" he asked.
"I would have asked you to cough into my mouth," Kyle said, "but I don't know if that would make me sick for sure. So I'd rather do it the hard way," and with a swift movement he leaned down and pressed his lips to Stan's, ignoring the muffled yelps of struggle that his best friend emitted. He let go abruptly and wiped his mouth, smiling at the distressed face that his friend made.
"You're crazy!" Stan said and Kyle laughed.
"Maybe, but I won't have to do that exam now, would I?"
"I don't see why I couldn't just cough!" Stan argued, wiping his mouth fiercely with his sleeve as if Kyle was the one with the contagious disease.
"Wouldn't have worked," Kyle said and got off the bed, picking up his schoolbag. "Thanks, Stan. Hopefully, I won't be there when you get back to school!" and without letting his friend say another word, Kyle left the room, leaving a dazed, sick person behind him.
Stan blinked and touched his lips, still shocked. He shivered suddenly, and figured it was because of the fever. Kyle's lips were warm, almost… nice. He'd dare say he even liked it.
But Kyle was still a jerk, and Stan would still have to pay him back for it. In his crave for revenge, he forgot that he didn't even feel sick at the kiss. His mother came in a moment later with a boiling cup of tea, and he was glad to get rid of the remains of Kyle's taste on his lips.
Nice and warm as his lips were, unwanted use of tongue is never appreciated.
I wrote this one when I was in a slump. It came out REALLY bad, so I didn't submit it to FF.net. I think I wrote that when I thought to myself that Kyle isn't necessarily a smart kid. I don't remember if I finsihed it, maybe there was suppsed to be more to this fic...
Anyhow, it's lame, and I post it here only because I feel like I should post SOMETHING.
So uh... yeah.
Grammar ir probably horrilbe, and there are some unfitting words I didn't feel like changing.
School sucked for many reasons. The building itself was colored a depressing gray, and the inside was colored a sickening, bright yellow. The students were complete assholes, most of them, at least, and the teachers didn't have the slightest clue about teaching. But what Kyle Broflovski hated the most about school, was the exams. Endless and tiring exams, and he had to score B or higher for his parents not to yell at him that he was slacking off. He was an average kid, not too smart and not too stupid. Since he wasn't too smart, he had to study really hard to get a good grade.
And he hated it.
It took most of his day. He wanted to watch TV, play video games, hang out with Stan… but most certainly not sit down and study.
He sighed. He had an English exam the day after, and studying the meaning of various poems wasn't really his idea of a good time. His mind wandered somewhere else as he drew lines and circles on a blank paper and yawned out of boredom. He would give anything, anything to not do the stupid exam on Friday. If only he were Stan…
Not that he was jealous of Stan in general, just on this particular day. His raven-haired best friend was currently lying in his bed with a burning forehead, caused by a bad case of flu. Kyle always thought that South Park residents were immune to flu, having living in the fucking cold for most days of the year, but apparently that wasn't true.
So Stan would do that exam on another time, while he'll have to do it tomorrow with most of the class… a thing which he really did not feel like doing.
An idea formed in his head. He should go to Stan, sit in his room and make the sick boy cough on him violently so he'd be able to get sick himself. He smirked to himself. He closed the book, put on his shoes quickly and grabbed his coat from the bed, where he threw it when he came back home from school. He grabbed his schoolbag and ran down the stairs, yelling to his younger brother, who was zoning out in front of this stupid reality show or another, that he was leaving and ran out, feeling free as the cold wind blew at his face. He smiled widely and made his way to Stan's house.
Stan's mother, Sharon, opened him the door and smiled as she saw him. He smiled back. He loved Sharon Marsh, she was very nice and accepting, and not stressing like his own mother. Plus, she was always kind to him. Of course, it could have been because Kyle was a mere guest in their house whenever he was there, and as a host she had to be nice, but still, Stan almost never complained about her. "Hello Mrs. Marsh!" he greeted, looking down since he got a bit taller than her.
"Oh, hello Kyle," she said back, but still didn't open the door fully for him to come in. "Stan's sick," she finished.
"Yeah, I know," he replied and pointed at his blue schoolbag, flashing her a row of white teeth. "I came to bring him some homework from the classes I have with him."
"Oh, you're so kind!" she said, but her smile fell. "But a flu is very contagious, I don't want you to get sick. Can you do it over the phone, maybe?"
He shook his head. "No, I have to explain him some stuff I think he'll have trouble figuring out on his own." She frowned, and he elaborated quickly. "I mean, he wasn't in the class when they were explained, so…"
"Well," she put her hand to her mouth. "I suppose you can see him for a few minutes…"
"Thanks!" he said and entered as Stan's mother stepped to the side and allowed him to set a foot on her carpet. He followed her up the stairs to his friend's room, wondering what would be Stan's reaction when his plan will unfold.
Stan's mother opened the door slowly, and signaled for Kyle to follow her quietly inside. Kyle's heart sunk when he saw Stan lying on his bed, sleeping. He was pale and sweat made his face shine. His mother put her hand on his forehead and sighed heavily. "It won't come down," she said with a frown. Then she shook him gently and called his name until he opened his eyes groggily with a groan. "Stan, honey?" she asked tentatively. "Kyle's here to see you."
Stan turned his head to look at Kyle, who was still standing by the door as if afraid to come any closer. "Hi," he said quietly, his voice hoarse. Kyle managed a smile back.
"I'm going to make you some tea," Stan's mom said and ran her hand through her son's black hair gently. He smiled at her as she turned around and left.
Kyle eyed the door for a minute, as if suspicious. "You look like shit, dude," he said as he turned his gaze back to his sick friend.
Stan chuckled. "Thanks," he replied. Kyle advanced towards his bed and threw his schoolbag on the floor. Stan's brow furrowed. "You didn't come here to bring me homework, did you?" he asked and coughed.
Kyle flinched at the sound and shook his head. "Hell no, you have enough troubles as it is." He waited for Stan's coughs to subdue before he continued. "I came to get sick myself."
Stan stared at him oddly. "What?" he asked.
"I came to get sick," Kyle repeated himself. "Remember the exam we have tomorrow?" Stan nodded. "Well, I don't wanna do it," he finished simply. Stan seemed puzzled, and Kyle sighed heavily. "I'm going to get your flu," he said and sat on the bed.
"You don't want it, dude," Stan said, chuckling again. "I feel like shit."
Kyle shrugged. "Believe me, I do. Very much."
"But you'll have to do that exam, anyway." Stan argued.
"Yeah, but not tomorrow. Come on, dude! I'm not asking for much." He put his hand on the other side of the bed, shifting his weight so now he was above Stan and could look straight into his eyes.
Stan's faced reddened. "W-what are you doing?" he asked.
"I would have asked you to cough into my mouth," Kyle said, "but I don't know if that would make me sick for sure. So I'd rather do it the hard way," and with a swift movement he leaned down and pressed his lips to Stan's, ignoring the muffled yelps of struggle that his best friend emitted. He let go abruptly and wiped his mouth, smiling at the distressed face that his friend made.
"You're crazy!" Stan said and Kyle laughed.
"Maybe, but I won't have to do that exam now, would I?"
"I don't see why I couldn't just cough!" Stan argued, wiping his mouth fiercely with his sleeve as if Kyle was the one with the contagious disease.
"Wouldn't have worked," Kyle said and got off the bed, picking up his schoolbag. "Thanks, Stan. Hopefully, I won't be there when you get back to school!" and without letting his friend say another word, Kyle left the room, leaving a dazed, sick person behind him.
Stan blinked and touched his lips, still shocked. He shivered suddenly, and figured it was because of the fever. Kyle's lips were warm, almost… nice. He'd dare say he even liked it.
But Kyle was still a jerk, and Stan would still have to pay him back for it. In his crave for revenge, he forgot that he didn't even feel sick at the kiss. His mother came in a moment later with a boiling cup of tea, and he was glad to get rid of the remains of Kyle's taste on his lips.
Nice and warm as his lips were, unwanted use of tongue is never appreciated.