Why Drinking is Bad for You (four)
Title: Why Drinking is Bad for You
Chapter: (Four) A Revisionist View of History
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Stan/Kyle
Other Chapters: One Two Three
Summary: Stan and Kyle get a bottle of vodka and a whole load of problems.
In this installment: Stan faces the world after a compromising video leaks.
Sniggering people surrounded Stan on all sides as he hurried along the school corridor, head bowed down. Already he had lost count of how many times people had yelled out to him about wookiees and his new boyfriend. He couldn't decide whether or not it was a good thing that Kyle was still bedridden. He really, really could do with the moral support of someone who knew the reality of the situation. On the other hand, clinging to his supposed boyfriend would only fuel the rumours further. The best solution would be if only he and Kyle were in school, he concluded. Get rid of all the idiots who just loved their crappy gossip. No, even better, he and Kyle would be on holiday, far away from all the morons. His reverie, involving him, Kyle and a deserted tropical island (with magically supplied electricity for their video games), was rudely destroyed by Cartman shouting at him.
“What was that, you fat fuck?” Stan asked, glaring at the source of all his current problems.
“I said, where's your boyfriend?” The whole corridor had closed in on them. Stan felt eyes boring into him from all directions.
“He's home sick. And he's not my boyfriend!”
“What, you totally wrecked him? Not that it would take much to beat his Jew-ass.”
“I didn't wreck him! And he could take you anyday, fatass!”
“Is he not putting out yet? Or don't you wanna get further contaminated with his Jew germs?”
Stan punched Cartman in the nose. His fist collided with a crunch. Blood slowly oozed out of Cartman's nose. The corridor had fallen silent for the first time in high school history.
“Whut?” Cartman touched the liquid eminating from his nostrils and held it up to inspect it. He screamed. “You - that's blood - YOU BROKE MY NOSE, YOU BASTARD FAG!” Cartman dashed off in the direction of the principal's office. Stan raced after him.
“You shouldn't have said all that!”
It came as no surprise to Stan that he was given detention for a week, even though Cartman's nose had escaped any real damage. He wasn't even surprised that the principal let Cartman off without any punishment. He took his judgement sullenly and silently. He hardly spoke to anyone during the day, feeling no compunction to speak to the idiots who surrounded him. This was just as well, as all the whole school wanted to discuss this week was his and Kyle's supposed homosexuality. Stan overheard how Bebe knew that Stan and Kyle had been dating since seventh grade, whilst Clyde talked about how he had caught the two having sex in the locker rooms one day after football practice. Butters said that he had always known the two had been attracted to each other, but he hadn't been able to bring it up with either of them. An older student Stan had never even noticed before was bragging about how he had heard Kyle ask Stan out one fateful day years ago. Cartman, of course, was seen as the centre for the fresh gossip.
“They've always been gay, you know. Kyle couldn't keep his hands out of Stan's nappies back when they were babies.”
“Whooooa,” his appreciative audience gasped. The knuckles on Stan's clenched fists turned white.
Stan went straight to Kyle's house after detention was over. Kyle's mom smiled at him and told him that she was glad he had come over, that his presence was sure to cheer Kyle up no end. As he started to ascend the stairs, she called up after him.
“Don't get too close to him. You don't want to get ill. That means no kissing.” Stan stared down at her, aghast. “It might be better if you don't mention that video's online, too. Have fun!” She wandered off before Stan could recover. He climbed the stairs hurriedly, fearing a similar encounter with Kyle's dad.
“Hey, dude,” said Stan upon entering Kyle's room. His friend looked tired. Some colour had returned to his face, but as this colour was red and centred on Kyle's sore nose, it wasn't a vast improvement.
“Hey. How was school?” Stan dumped his bag by the door and perched on Kyle's bed.
“Totally lame. I have detention for two weeks.” Kyle frowned at him.
“What'd you do? I thought they cut star quarterbacks some slack?”
“Not when Cartman runs to them crying about a broken nose.” Kyle visibly perked up.
“You broke Cartman's nose?”
“No! I just punched it and it bled a lot.”
“Awesome. What'd he do?”
“He was a dick. So what've you been doing?” Kyle gave a hollow laugh.
“I've been sat in bed all day. I can't watch TV since it will hurt my eyes, same for playing games, going on the PC, and reading. I can't listen to the radio or anything as it'll give me headaches...”
“It's really that bad?!”
“No, but try telling that to my mom. I'm so bored I keep falling asleep.”
“You still look really tired, dude.”
“Great. What's Cartman been saying about me?”
“Huh? He hasn't said anything -”
“So why did my little brother ask me when I turned gay earlier?”
There was a long silence. Stan shuffled on the bed. Kyle kept staring at him expectantly, until he finally cracked.
“He's just been telling everyone he found us on the sofa.”
“That's it.”
“Yeah.”
“Nothing to do with YouToob at all?” Stan sighed and looked Kyle in the eye.
“Your mom told me not to mention it to you. I was going to explain once you were better. Cartman's a douche and has cameras all over his house. He had a video of what happened...that night. He put it online.” Kyle's face somehow managed to drain of what little colour remained.
“Fuck.”
“Yeah. That's why I punched him.”
“Oh, fuck.”
“Yeah.”
“Fuck fuck fuck FUCK! Do my parents know?!”
“Since your mom told me not to kiss you until you're better, I think so.”
“FUCK!” Kyle burrowed beneath his bed covers and pulled his pillow over his head.
“At least she's not mad. She seems cool with it. I haven't seen my parents yet,” said Stan, patting the lump in the bed in an attempt to be comforting.
“What do people at school think?” Kyle asked, his voice almost as muffled as Kenny's.
“Err...”
“Tell me the truth! I'll know if you're lying, Stan!”
“They all believe we're dating.”
“Oh, FUCK!” Kyle re-emerged. His hat had fallen off and his hair had popped out. Even it seemed to be wilting a little. “I'm sorry.”
“Huh?”
“I shouldn't have gotten you into this mess.”
“Dude, it was me too,” said Stan, feeling more than a little guilty. He wondered how much his fantasies - quickly trampled fantasies, but fantasies nonetheless - involving Kyle had influenced that drunken night. Kyle looked down at his bed.
“Yeah,” he said, his discomfort clear in his voice. “But, dude...” He sighed. “Never mind. Think it'll blow over?”
“No.”
“Goddammit.”
“I know.”
“Did anything not related to us happen today?”
“Not really.”
“No fights? No dating scandals?” The desperation was strong in Kyle's voice, almost pleading. “Not even a new fashion trend?”
“No.”
“Crap. Cartman really has got the word around.”
“Yeah. I'm surprised he didn't tell you himself.”
“Mom says using the phone will give me a headache. Same with my cell. She even took that off me earlier today.”
“Jesus Christ. How have you not died of boredom?”
“Practice. I've got experience in being sick.”
“How about a board game? Is that going to kill you?”
“Who knows?”
The board game did not kill Kyle. Neither did the bland, hot soup that his mom later brought for him and Stan. He even managed to stay alive until Stan had to leave. Stan wasn't so sure of his own chances of survival as he opened his front door with trepidation. His fears were confirmed as he saw his father waiting for him.
“Ah, Stan. I think we need to talk, man to man.” Stan groaned, but sat down with his father. “Now, Stan, I saw a video on YouToob recently...”
“You and the whole city.”
“Right. Stan, only you know if what happened was experimentation or a deeper desire manifesting itself.”
“We were just drunk!”
“Sure, sure. Now, if you are...differently inclined, you know you can tell me, right?”
“Sure, dad...”
“...are you?”
“No, dad.”
“Stan, tell me the truth!”
“I'm not gay, dad!”
“Fine, keep lying to yourself, Stan,” his father huffed. He folded his arms and leaned back in his chair. “Don't appreciate what an accepting father you have.”
“I'm not gay!”
“Oh yeah? Where have you been?”
“At Kyle's!”
“Aha!” Randy pointed at Stan. “Caught red-handed!”
“He's my friend!”
“You're knowingly risking social ostracisation for him!”
“He's been my best friend since we were babies! I'm not gonna abandon him because of some stupid drunken night!”
“You've been gay since you were babies together! I knew it!”
“What? No!”
“Ever since that first time I caught you two kissing as babies, you've been gay together! I knew it!”
“We - we what?!” Randy waved a hand impatiently.
“I was babysitting one day. I kissed your mom goodbye when she went to the store and you asked why I did that. I told you that we kiss family. You said I kissed her more than I kissed anyone else. I explained that was because you kiss your favourite person the most. Not a football game later I find you and Kyle kissing!”
Stan stared at him. Randy rolled his eyes. He took a gulp of the beer can beside him.
“Look, if you want to hide your feelings, fine. You'll need to start avoiding Kyle, though.”
“No way!”
“And play more sport. Join another football team.”
“So getting sweaty with a bunch of guys and jumping on them isn't gay?” Randy slammed his beer down on the table.
“Dammit, Stan, your homosexuality is clouding your view of everything! What are you going to accuse of being gay next, boxing?”
“Because prancing around in your boxers is totally straight.”
“That does it, Stan! I have tried to be understanding, but if you won't co-operate, we're done!”
“Fine! Some help you ever are!” Stan stormed to his bedroom. He needed a plan. It had to end the gossip in the school, it had to be fair to Kyle and it had to be something that he could live with. He pulled out his photo album.
The album hadn't been his idea. It had been a history project back in elementary school. The teacher had tired of his students complaining that history was boring and so created a project that they could relate to.
“Pick something that's important to you and keep a record of it,” he said. “The records can be anything - you can collect notes, pictures, objects - and store them someplace safe.”
“Can we play in the sandpit now?”
“Sure, why not,” the teacher sighed. “Just get this done for next week, okay?”
Stan and Kyle discussed the project as they fingerpainted.
“What are you gonna do?” Kyle asked as he poked his paper.
“I dunno. Let's do the same thing so it'll be less work.”
“Okay. What shall we do?”
“What does 'important' mean?”
“Special.”
“Oh.” Stan scratched his face and accidentally painted his cheek blue. “Friendship?”
“But Cartman's our friend! He's not special!”
“Me and you?”
“Okay.”
The result had been matching photograph albums. Both albums had suffered once the boys grew older and learned that what they were doing was Not Cool, but both had been sneakily updated, slowly and haphazardly, for over a decade. Stan flicked through his thoughtfully. It was likely that his dad was unaware of it; Stan had to admit that it lacked a manly edge. He watched himself and Kyle growing up together. He felt a jolt low in his body as he came to recent pictures. The holiday photos, depicting an almost naked Kyle, gave him pause for a number of thoughts. Kyle had been so innocent and happy that day and luckily hadn't noticed his best friend occasionally stealing glances at his ass.
Stan groaned. He had his plan.
Chapter: (Four) A Revisionist View of History
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Stan/Kyle
Other Chapters: One Two Three
Summary: Stan and Kyle get a bottle of vodka and a whole load of problems.
In this installment: Stan faces the world after a compromising video leaks.
Sniggering people surrounded Stan on all sides as he hurried along the school corridor, head bowed down. Already he had lost count of how many times people had yelled out to him about wookiees and his new boyfriend. He couldn't decide whether or not it was a good thing that Kyle was still bedridden. He really, really could do with the moral support of someone who knew the reality of the situation. On the other hand, clinging to his supposed boyfriend would only fuel the rumours further. The best solution would be if only he and Kyle were in school, he concluded. Get rid of all the idiots who just loved their crappy gossip. No, even better, he and Kyle would be on holiday, far away from all the morons. His reverie, involving him, Kyle and a deserted tropical island (with magically supplied electricity for their video games), was rudely destroyed by Cartman shouting at him.
“What was that, you fat fuck?” Stan asked, glaring at the source of all his current problems.
“I said, where's your boyfriend?” The whole corridor had closed in on them. Stan felt eyes boring into him from all directions.
“He's home sick. And he's not my boyfriend!”
“What, you totally wrecked him? Not that it would take much to beat his Jew-ass.”
“I didn't wreck him! And he could take you anyday, fatass!”
“Is he not putting out yet? Or don't you wanna get further contaminated with his Jew germs?”
Stan punched Cartman in the nose. His fist collided with a crunch. Blood slowly oozed out of Cartman's nose. The corridor had fallen silent for the first time in high school history.
“Whut?” Cartman touched the liquid eminating from his nostrils and held it up to inspect it. He screamed. “You - that's blood - YOU BROKE MY NOSE, YOU BASTARD FAG!” Cartman dashed off in the direction of the principal's office. Stan raced after him.
“You shouldn't have said all that!”
It came as no surprise to Stan that he was given detention for a week, even though Cartman's nose had escaped any real damage. He wasn't even surprised that the principal let Cartman off without any punishment. He took his judgement sullenly and silently. He hardly spoke to anyone during the day, feeling no compunction to speak to the idiots who surrounded him. This was just as well, as all the whole school wanted to discuss this week was his and Kyle's supposed homosexuality. Stan overheard how Bebe knew that Stan and Kyle had been dating since seventh grade, whilst Clyde talked about how he had caught the two having sex in the locker rooms one day after football practice. Butters said that he had always known the two had been attracted to each other, but he hadn't been able to bring it up with either of them. An older student Stan had never even noticed before was bragging about how he had heard Kyle ask Stan out one fateful day years ago. Cartman, of course, was seen as the centre for the fresh gossip.
“They've always been gay, you know. Kyle couldn't keep his hands out of Stan's nappies back when they were babies.”
“Whooooa,” his appreciative audience gasped. The knuckles on Stan's clenched fists turned white.
Stan went straight to Kyle's house after detention was over. Kyle's mom smiled at him and told him that she was glad he had come over, that his presence was sure to cheer Kyle up no end. As he started to ascend the stairs, she called up after him.
“Don't get too close to him. You don't want to get ill. That means no kissing.” Stan stared down at her, aghast. “It might be better if you don't mention that video's online, too. Have fun!” She wandered off before Stan could recover. He climbed the stairs hurriedly, fearing a similar encounter with Kyle's dad.
“Hey, dude,” said Stan upon entering Kyle's room. His friend looked tired. Some colour had returned to his face, but as this colour was red and centred on Kyle's sore nose, it wasn't a vast improvement.
“Hey. How was school?” Stan dumped his bag by the door and perched on Kyle's bed.
“Totally lame. I have detention for two weeks.” Kyle frowned at him.
“What'd you do? I thought they cut star quarterbacks some slack?”
“Not when Cartman runs to them crying about a broken nose.” Kyle visibly perked up.
“You broke Cartman's nose?”
“No! I just punched it and it bled a lot.”
“Awesome. What'd he do?”
“He was a dick. So what've you been doing?” Kyle gave a hollow laugh.
“I've been sat in bed all day. I can't watch TV since it will hurt my eyes, same for playing games, going on the PC, and reading. I can't listen to the radio or anything as it'll give me headaches...”
“It's really that bad?!”
“No, but try telling that to my mom. I'm so bored I keep falling asleep.”
“You still look really tired, dude.”
“Great. What's Cartman been saying about me?”
“Huh? He hasn't said anything -”
“So why did my little brother ask me when I turned gay earlier?”
There was a long silence. Stan shuffled on the bed. Kyle kept staring at him expectantly, until he finally cracked.
“He's just been telling everyone he found us on the sofa.”
“That's it.”
“Yeah.”
“Nothing to do with YouToob at all?” Stan sighed and looked Kyle in the eye.
“Your mom told me not to mention it to you. I was going to explain once you were better. Cartman's a douche and has cameras all over his house. He had a video of what happened...that night. He put it online.” Kyle's face somehow managed to drain of what little colour remained.
“Fuck.”
“Yeah. That's why I punched him.”
“Oh, fuck.”
“Yeah.”
“Fuck fuck fuck FUCK! Do my parents know?!”
“Since your mom told me not to kiss you until you're better, I think so.”
“FUCK!” Kyle burrowed beneath his bed covers and pulled his pillow over his head.
“At least she's not mad. She seems cool with it. I haven't seen my parents yet,” said Stan, patting the lump in the bed in an attempt to be comforting.
“What do people at school think?” Kyle asked, his voice almost as muffled as Kenny's.
“Err...”
“Tell me the truth! I'll know if you're lying, Stan!”
“They all believe we're dating.”
“Oh, FUCK!” Kyle re-emerged. His hat had fallen off and his hair had popped out. Even it seemed to be wilting a little. “I'm sorry.”
“Huh?”
“I shouldn't have gotten you into this mess.”
“Dude, it was me too,” said Stan, feeling more than a little guilty. He wondered how much his fantasies - quickly trampled fantasies, but fantasies nonetheless - involving Kyle had influenced that drunken night. Kyle looked down at his bed.
“Yeah,” he said, his discomfort clear in his voice. “But, dude...” He sighed. “Never mind. Think it'll blow over?”
“No.”
“Goddammit.”
“I know.”
“Did anything not related to us happen today?”
“Not really.”
“No fights? No dating scandals?” The desperation was strong in Kyle's voice, almost pleading. “Not even a new fashion trend?”
“No.”
“Crap. Cartman really has got the word around.”
“Yeah. I'm surprised he didn't tell you himself.”
“Mom says using the phone will give me a headache. Same with my cell. She even took that off me earlier today.”
“Jesus Christ. How have you not died of boredom?”
“Practice. I've got experience in being sick.”
“How about a board game? Is that going to kill you?”
“Who knows?”
The board game did not kill Kyle. Neither did the bland, hot soup that his mom later brought for him and Stan. He even managed to stay alive until Stan had to leave. Stan wasn't so sure of his own chances of survival as he opened his front door with trepidation. His fears were confirmed as he saw his father waiting for him.
“Ah, Stan. I think we need to talk, man to man.” Stan groaned, but sat down with his father. “Now, Stan, I saw a video on YouToob recently...”
“You and the whole city.”
“Right. Stan, only you know if what happened was experimentation or a deeper desire manifesting itself.”
“We were just drunk!”
“Sure, sure. Now, if you are...differently inclined, you know you can tell me, right?”
“Sure, dad...”
“...are you?”
“No, dad.”
“Stan, tell me the truth!”
“I'm not gay, dad!”
“Fine, keep lying to yourself, Stan,” his father huffed. He folded his arms and leaned back in his chair. “Don't appreciate what an accepting father you have.”
“I'm not gay!”
“Oh yeah? Where have you been?”
“At Kyle's!”
“Aha!” Randy pointed at Stan. “Caught red-handed!”
“He's my friend!”
“You're knowingly risking social ostracisation for him!”
“He's been my best friend since we were babies! I'm not gonna abandon him because of some stupid drunken night!”
“You've been gay since you were babies together! I knew it!”
“What? No!”
“Ever since that first time I caught you two kissing as babies, you've been gay together! I knew it!”
“We - we what?!” Randy waved a hand impatiently.
“I was babysitting one day. I kissed your mom goodbye when she went to the store and you asked why I did that. I told you that we kiss family. You said I kissed her more than I kissed anyone else. I explained that was because you kiss your favourite person the most. Not a football game later I find you and Kyle kissing!”
Stan stared at him. Randy rolled his eyes. He took a gulp of the beer can beside him.
“Look, if you want to hide your feelings, fine. You'll need to start avoiding Kyle, though.”
“No way!”
“And play more sport. Join another football team.”
“So getting sweaty with a bunch of guys and jumping on them isn't gay?” Randy slammed his beer down on the table.
“Dammit, Stan, your homosexuality is clouding your view of everything! What are you going to accuse of being gay next, boxing?”
“Because prancing around in your boxers is totally straight.”
“That does it, Stan! I have tried to be understanding, but if you won't co-operate, we're done!”
“Fine! Some help you ever are!” Stan stormed to his bedroom. He needed a plan. It had to end the gossip in the school, it had to be fair to Kyle and it had to be something that he could live with. He pulled out his photo album.
The album hadn't been his idea. It had been a history project back in elementary school. The teacher had tired of his students complaining that history was boring and so created a project that they could relate to.
“Pick something that's important to you and keep a record of it,” he said. “The records can be anything - you can collect notes, pictures, objects - and store them someplace safe.”
“Can we play in the sandpit now?”
“Sure, why not,” the teacher sighed. “Just get this done for next week, okay?”
Stan and Kyle discussed the project as they fingerpainted.
“What are you gonna do?” Kyle asked as he poked his paper.
“I dunno. Let's do the same thing so it'll be less work.”
“Okay. What shall we do?”
“What does 'important' mean?”
“Special.”
“Oh.” Stan scratched his face and accidentally painted his cheek blue. “Friendship?”
“But Cartman's our friend! He's not special!”
“Me and you?”
“Okay.”
The result had been matching photograph albums. Both albums had suffered once the boys grew older and learned that what they were doing was Not Cool, but both had been sneakily updated, slowly and haphazardly, for over a decade. Stan flicked through his thoughtfully. It was likely that his dad was unaware of it; Stan had to admit that it lacked a manly edge. He watched himself and Kyle growing up together. He felt a jolt low in his body as he came to recent pictures. The holiday photos, depicting an almost naked Kyle, gave him pause for a number of thoughts. Kyle had been so innocent and happy that day and luckily hadn't noticed his best friend occasionally stealing glances at his ass.
Stan groaned. He had his plan.