(no subject)

[youb_st_rds]

Title: The Need to Wear Flowers
Chapter: Five
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Stan/Kyle
Summary: After coming out to his parents, Stan is moved away from South Park and all of his friends. In this chapter, Stan's mom is perfectly unreasonable, Tom does not take well to Kyle and the boys attend a party.


“Stanley, having Kyle pretend to be your boyfriend won't make us move back to South Park.” At times, Stan reflected, his parents could actually be relatively smart. These times seemed to coincide with whenever he wanted them to be dumb. He and Kyle had walked into dinner, Kyle's hand jammed down his trouser pocket, and everyone had noticed. His grandpa had called him a sodomite, Randy had choked on his potato and Sharon had asked him to help her bring some dishes through from the kitchen, which is where he was now.

“But I love him,” Stan pleaded. “Mom, it's breaking my heart...”

“Stan, he's straight-”

“No, he isn't!” He blinked, surprised by the conviction in his words. Sharon shrugged her shoulders.

“Even if he isn't, we can't move back now.”

“What? Why not? We haven't sold our house yet.”

“We have friends here! You have a boyfriend! I have a new job! South Park isn't accepting enough!”

“Dad hasn't found a new job, my boyfriend doesn't like guys and we have friends in South Park!” Stan countered, ticking each item off on his fingers. “We're only renting this place, your old job paid better, we were less at risk of earthquakes...”

“Stanley, we are staying here and that's final!” She shoved a bowl of vegetables into his hands. “Now go take these through and stop teasing yourself with Kyle!”

He grudgingly took the bowl to the table and slammed it down with bad grace. Kyle looked at him, concerned, but Stan shook his head as he sunk down beside him. He'd tell him the bad news later.

“Stan, why don't you invite some of your friends over this afternoon?” Sharon asked, offering Kyle the vegetables. “It'll be nice for Kyle to meet some of your new friends.”

“Great. They think I should dump Tom and screw Kyle,” Stan said, his temper getting the better of him. Sharon glared at him. He didn't dare look to see Kyle's reaction. “So they'd probably try and engineer that to happen. Sure, I'll ring them after dinner.”

“Or how about Tom?” Sharon continued, as though Stan had not said anything. “I'm sure Kyle would like to meet your boyfriend.”

“Not really,” Kyle piped up. Stan grinned at him gratefully. “He's a douche who's cheating on Stan. I'll only end up kicking his ass.” Mrs Marsh ignored him, too.

“I'll call around after lunch and invite him around.” They groaned in unison. Kyle nudged Stan under the table with his foot and mouthed, “What happened?”. Stan mouthed “Later”. They both scarfed their food down and bolted from the table to Stan's room. There, Stan collapsed on his bed, arm draped across his face melodramatically.

“It's over, dude,” he groaned. “Even if we convince them we're dating, she won't let me move back. She seems to believe we're rooted here now.” Kyle groaned and collapsed next to him.

“Like you weren't rooted in South Park, where you knew everyone and everything and you had lived all of your fucking life?”

“Yeah,” Stan said, miserably. He rolled over and curled up next to Kyle. “Dude, I'll never get to go back. Never.” Kyle hugged him close and kissed the top of his head.

“You will,” he said, desperately. “I'll make sure of it. I'm not letting them keep you here. What did your mom say was holding you back?”

“Friends. Tom. Her new job. South Park being prejudiced.” Kyle nodded and tapped his nose thoughtfully.

“Dude, I'm sure we can solve this. I'm already working on the last problem.”

“You are?” Stan took hold on Kyle's shirt, clutching at it like straws. “Really? How?”

“I'm organising the first South Park gay pride parade,” Kyle admitted. “I wasn't going to say anything until everything was a bit more final, but...”

“Dude!” Stan punched Kyle on the arm in the sort of grateful manner that only teenage boys truly understand. “Really?”

“You bet. Mom's kinda proud of me, but she keeps asking if there's anything I want to tell her.” Kyle laughed, but it was a tinkering, off colour laugh. Stan joined him, aware his laugh sounded just as fake. “I'm currently waiting for road permission.”

“I love you,” Stan sighed, burying his face in Kyle's shirt. “I really do. You're too awesome.”

“I try,” Kyle said, stroking Stan's head. “You know I want you back. Everything's just lame without you.” Stan glanced up at Kyle, grinning.

“I'm glad I make your life worth living.”

“You really do,” Kyle said, earnestly. Behind them, the door opened and someone coughed. They glared up at the intruder. Tom looked down at them coolly from the door frame. Kyle turned and rested on an elbow.

“Who're you?” he asked, suspiciously.

“Tom,” he replied, not moving from his position. “You must be Kyle. Didn't mommy ever tell you it was cruel to play with people's hearts?”

“Didn't mommy ever tell you not to be a fucking douche? How can you keep Stan trapped in this fake-ass relationship?” Kyle sat up properly now, swinging his legs to the edge of the bed, poised to strike should he hear another slight against him or Stan. Stan put his arms around Kyle's neck. Tom gritted his teeth.

“You think I want to be in this?” he hissed, pulling the door closed behind him. “You think that if I had a choice, I wouldn't just date my girlfriend openly, instead of having to waste my time doing gross things with another guy?”

“So you make someone else unhappy? You could date another guy in your situation,” Kyle said, lacing his fingers with Stan's. “Don't fuck things up for my best friend.”

“Boys!” Sharon called up, preventing the imminent fight. “Come downstairs, I've made you all cola floats!” They shared one last icy glare before together descending the stairs. Sharon handed each a glass filled with coke and topped with vanilla ice cream and chocolate sprinkles. “Why don't you all go watch TV together?” she asked, though it sounded more like an order. “There should be something decent on, we have got over a hundred channels...”

“Yeah, but one just shows fish swimming around in a tank,” Kyle pointed out, catching fallen ice cream from the glass with a finger. “All day and all night. Remember, Stan?”

“Oh, yeah! And there are twenty channels in languages neither of us understand-” Stan continued.

“Fifteen channels of fundies telling us to buy their CDs of crap music-”

“Thirteen kids' channels-”

“Have you two actually gone through all of the channels already?” Sharon questioned. They nodded.

“It's good for getting acclimatised to a new place,” Kyle said. Stan slurped his float.

“But Stan hadn't touched the TV since we arrived!”

“It's something we always do together,” Stan explained as Kyle licked his ice cream. “Everytime either of us has gotten new channels or a new TV, we go through them all. Sometimes we do it when we're bored to keep on top of what we have.”

“Are you both aware of how sad that is?” Sharon asked, taking refuge in the washing up. “You must have wasted hours like that.”

“It's fun,” Kyle insisted.

“Let's just go find something to watch,” Tom groaned. “Thank you for the drink, Mrs Marsh.” She smiled at him.

“You're welcome, Tom.” Stan and Kyle glared at him and marched ahead of him into the living room. He trailed after them, but with Stan taking the end of the sofa and Kyle the middle, he was kept from upholding the visage of being a loving boyfriend. Kyle leaned in and licked Stan's ice cream.

“It's the same as yours,” Tom hissed, the knuckles of his glass-holding hand white. “Was that really necessary?”

“Totally,” Stan and Kyle said simultaneously. Stan picked up the remote and scrolled through the menu screens.

“Simpsons?” he asked, hovering over the selection.

“Which episode?” Kyle asked.

“First singing clip show.”

“I love that episode!” Tom said, smiling in spite of his surroundings. Kyle looked less impressed.“I haven't seen it in ages!”

“I've seen in a million times,” said Kyle, shaking his head. “Something else.”

“Yeah, me too.” Stan continued cycling through the menu, smiling as Tom sulked in the corner.

“And I bet you saw it together,” he said, dryly. Kyle nodded.

“Most of the time, yeah.”

“Do you ever do anything separately?” Tom asked. “Or are you so codependent that you can barely breathe apart?”

“We're completely codependent,” said Kyle, putting an arm around Stan's shoulders. “We have to keep in touch several times a day or else we break down completely.”

“It's true,” Stan confirmed, putting his head on Kyle's chest. “We would be nervous wrecks after one day without contacting each other.”

“You didn't seem to feel the same way when you tore his photo up,” Tom snorted, snatching the remote from Stan and putting The Simpsons on. Kyle frowned at Stan, wounded.

“You did?” asked Kyle. Stan smiled apologetically and wiped the ice cream from Kyle's mouth.

“It was when I wasn't speaking to you,” he said. “I was stupid. I'm sorry. I got another copy made from the negatives, anyway.”

“Oh, that's okay.” Kyle grinned. “Though, with all the photos of us you already have in your room, I guess you could live to lose one or two.”

“How cute,” Tom sneered. “Can you keep your kiss and make up session down? Some of us are trying to watch the TV.”

“Stan!” Sharon called from the kitchen. “Can you come give me a hand?” Stan sighed and heaved himself from the sofa. His mom gestured to the garbage can, which was on the verge of overflowing or gaining sentience. “Take that out, will you?”

Stan grumbled to himself as he heaved the straining bin bag out, face turned away in a futile attempt not to inhale the toxic smell. He shuddered as a drop of bin juice landed on his foot and held it far out ahead of him as he escorted it from the house and into the trash can outside. Over the fence, Tom's mother observed him.

“That's a big bag,” she commented. “The second this week. You are recycling, aren't you?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Stan sighed, unwilling to be polite to the person who had spawned his fake boyfriend.

“I might pop by tomorrow to remind your parents that really, most household waste can be recycled or avoided when shopping,” she said, shaking her head and turning back to her crops. With great effort, Stan said nothing in response and skulked back into the house.

He returned to the living room. Something was amiss at once. Kyle, who had been leaning close to Tom, suddenly sprang away from him as Stan entered the room, and Tom looked rather too smug for Stan's liking. He took his position on the sofa again, wondering what the hell was going on. As soon as his ass touched the sofa, Kyle climbed on his lap and kissed him on the cheek. His timing was impeccable. Sharon came in the room just as Kyle's lips touched Stan's skin, with Tom raising no protest whatsoever in the corner. Stan could tell from her expression that he was in trouble, though he wouldn't discover exactly how much trouble until the guests had left.

“I'm going out,” she said, coolly. “Be good, won't you?”

“We will, Mrs Marsh,” Kyle said, smiling innocently at her. She gave one last angry look to Stan before nodding and departing.

“So, Stan, my best friend in the whole world who I shall never ever doubt, what shall we do now?” Kyle asked.

“Oh, go off and fuck,” Tom fumed, getting up. “I don't get why you've got to be so obvious about it, but it doesn't look like I can stop you.” He chucked a cushion at Kyle. “By the way, your hair is fucking stupid.”

“It's a million times better than yours!” Stan yelled, but Tom had already turned away and was walking out of the door. He flipped them off over his shoulder and left the house. Kyle didn't move from Stan's lap, instead watching Tom retreat with a shake of his head.

“God, what a fucking douche. You have to pretend to be dating that guy?”

“Yeah. Dude, not that I'm complaining, but why the hell are you sitting on me?”

“That douche,” Kyle said, nodding towards the door Tom had just left through, “tried to tell me that you were trying to trick me into fucking you and that I should back down before I did something I regretted. So I figured that this would be the biggest fuck you I could give him without breaking his face.”

“Fucking douche,” Stan said, disgusted. “Wanna play Xbox?”

“You know it, dude.”

*

They had almost completed Guitar Hero VI on expert mode when there was a knock at the door. They ignored it, being mid-solo on “Greed Killing”, and someone else opened the door. They missed the ensuing conversation, but neither could miss Sharon coming into the living room and screaming at Stan to turn the game off. Kyle meekly paused it.

“That was Tom's mother!” she shouted. “He's in tears because you're cheating on him!” They stared at her, flabbergasted.

“He has a fucking girlfriend!” Stan yelled, throwing the guitar controller down. “He has done for about a year! He just doesn't want his parents to know he's straight!”

“Stanley, don't be ridiculous!” she shrieked. “You are banned from dating Kyle! Now go apologise to your boyfriend!”

“But mom-”

“No buts! Have you thought how this will look to the neighbours? No one will be able to trust us, just because you can't keep your hands to yourself!”

“I don't want to date him!”

“Tough luck, Stanley!”

“I'll go break up with him!”

“You do and you're grounded!” Stan pinched the bridge of his nose and counted to ten. His mom continued ranting and raving at him. Kyle put a hand on his shoulder and pulled Stan back protectively from his mother.

“You can't force someone into a relationship and then be surprised when they're not faithful to it!” he shouted. It did not go down well. She continued to shriek at them, finally ordering them both to Stan's room as punishment. They fled. For the second time that day, Stan sunk onto his bed in despair.

“Now what?” he asked, not really expecting an answer. “What the hell can we do now?”

“We'll prove that Tom is straight,” Kyle replied, picking up a camera thoughtfully. “We'll catch him with his girlfriend. That'll get you out of dating him, at least.”

“Dude, yeah!” Stan sprang up, grinning at Kyle. “How? He doesn't make out with her at parties, or at least not where everyone can see. I guess there's school. He might be eating her face there.”

“Okay, that'll probably be best. Get a shot of them. It has to be obviously coupley, you know, kissing and crap. Hugging won't be enough.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Anything else I'll need for the mission?”

“A less obvious camera?” Stan laughed, though Kyle looked serious. “We might as well see what's available, dude. If you get caught once, it'll be much harder to get a second chance.” He sat down at Stan's computer and did a quick search. Stan climbed over the bed to get a better look at what he was doing.

“It's kind of worrying how many places cater for this kind of thing,” he said, peering at the long list of sites begging to sell them spying equipment. “Is the market really this big?”

“Must be. Hey, they do spy phones.” Kyle clicked on the link.

“Dude, we totally don't need a spy phone.”

“I know, but they sound cool - wait, that's my model of phone!” Kyle pulled it out and compared the picture with his model. “Dad did give it to me already set up...”

“Dude, there are millions of phones like that. You're getting paranoid. Can we look at the cameras?” Stan took the mouse from Kyle's unresisting hand and found the cameras. “So, mister Bond, what do we want? Look, I could get one in a can of bathroom cleaner!”

“Unless you usually go to school waving a can of bathroom cleaner around, I think that'll be even more suspicious than wandering around with a camera,” Kyle said, putting his phone away and taking the mouse back. “Christ, I could have lived without knowing that you can get binocular webcams. That's fucking creepy.”

“Dude, you can get bugged fire alarms!” Stan pointed to the screen. “Anything could be bugged!”

“Including chewing gum, ties,” Kyle said, still scrolling down the screen, “and sunglasses. This is a really scary website.”

“They do have these cameras on sale,” Stan said. “The tiny ones.”

“You've got to worry about wires, dude.”

“And the fact that I'll look like a psychopath if I film things.”

“Oh, yeah.” Kyle sagged, his dreams of helping a master spy operation crushed. “Guess you'd better be careful, then.”

“Yeah. The camera on my phone isn't too bad; I can use that.”

“Let me have a look.” Stan handed his phone to Kyle. Kyle took a picture of Stan's room and analysed the result, which was a mess of various grey blobs interspersed with a blindingly white light from the window.

“I'm not sure, dude. You're going to have to be careful with this one. If the place you take the photo is is dark, you're not going to prove anything.”

“Flash?” Kyle shook his head.

“Too obvious. Hey, take mine. It takes pretty good photos. We can just swap our sim cards.” He held out his sleek, shiny, very obviously new phone. Neither of them could keep a phone unscratched for more than a couple of months.

“Dude, no way.”

“Dude, yes way,” Kyle said, firmly. He put it in Stan's hand and clasped his hands around Stan's. Stan stared defiantly down at Kyle. His grip on the situation weakened as he stared into Kyle's hazel eyes, though he made no move to stop. As if reading his thoughts, Kyle leaned up and pecked Stan on the lips. “Good boy. What shall we do whilst we're being punished?”

“I know what you can do,” Stan said, pulling Kyle to the bed. Kyle took position beside Stan, curious.

“And that is?”

“Well, I guess I realised it the first time you went through second grade,” Stan began, grinning. Kyle grinned, catching on.

“You caught my reflection in a spoon whilst I was eating cereal?”

“Yeah, baby. I remember thinking 'wow, he's ridiculously good looking. Maybe he can do that to entertain me'.” Stan stood up and located the DVD. He waved it at Kyle, who nodded approvingly.

“Do what to entertain you?” Stan popped the DVD in the player and joined Kyle on the bed.

“Be professionally good looking!”

“You is talking loco and I like it.” Kyle pulled Stan closer and rested his head on his shoulder. Stan wasn't sure if it was meant to be affectionate or whether his shoulder was just a good headrest. Kyle had claimed as much before.

*

When evening rolled around, Sharon reluctantly conceded that they could be allowed to go to Finn's house for a party. She did, however, add that she would be reconsidering allowing Kyle to visit if she felt they were up to anything inappropriate.

“And,” she said, waving a fork at Stan reproachfully, “your father will be setting up the spare bed for Kyle tonight.”

“We might not be back tonight,” Stan told her. “Finn said we can stay over.” They quickly escaped before any more commandments were handed down from on high. They waited outside the house until Karl's bright yellow box of a car pulled up in front of them. He opened the passenger door and viewed Kyle appraisingly.

“Mmm, nice,” he commented. “I finally understand why you want to go home so badly. Get in, sweet cheeks.” Stan tried not to laugh at Kyle's stunned expression.

“You heard the driver,” he told Kyle, sternly. Kyle rolled his eyes and got in the back.

“Finn is going to be all over you, Kyle,” Karl said, setting off once Stan had settled in. “He adores cool geeks.”

“I'm not a geek!” Kyle protested.

“Sweetie, have you checked out your t-shirt lately? Slogan tops are the gear of trendy geeks nationwide.”

“Whatever. Just don't give me a makeover.” He poked one of the teddy bears that was crammed in the back beside him. “You like cuddly toys, huh?”

“I won't, but I think Stan wants to give you a facial,” Karl said with a snigger.

“Karl, can you do us a favour and just drive?” Stan asked, shooting him a venomous look. Karl pondered the question.

“I guess. I was just breaking him in before we got to Finn's, but if you want poor Kyle to be unprepared...”

“Dude, we should set Kenny on them,” said Kyle. “That'd be an interesting match.”

“A pervert face off? Sounds awesome.”

“We'd have to watch from a distance.” They pulled up in front of Finn's house. Karl led the way inside, with Kyle sticking close to Stan, apprehensive of the imminent harassment. Finn opened the door, grinning, a jug of brightly coloured liquid in his hand. Fruit floated on top.

“Hello, hello!” he said, waving sloppily at them. He quickly grabbed hold of the door again. “Come in, come in...” He spotted Kyle and his eyes lit up. “Stan, you have fucking great taste in friends. Bring more in future. Who wants some sangria?”

“Fucking hell, I will,” Karl said, taking the jug off Finn before he dropped it. “How much have you had?”

“Like...two glasses? It's really strong.” Finn latched onto Karl. “Pour me another...” Karl led him to the kitchen. Despite Karl's assistance, Finn still managed to walk into a wall. Stan and Kyle entered, Kyle glancing about warily.

“You'll be fine,” he whispered, taking Kyle's coat and hanging it up. “Don't stress, dude.”

“Yeah, Stan, has that worked any of the times you've said that to me?” Kyle asked. “What the hell is sangria?” Stan shrugged.

“Guess we'll find out soon enough. Let's go join the others.” They headed into the kitchen, which had suddenly started blasting out cheesy pop tunes. Gary was already slumped against a cupboard, mumbling to himself about how much he loved the guys or pies, Stan wasn't quite sure which. Giles was attempting to dance the can-can, but unless it had been modified to include falling down in recent years, it was safe to say that his efforts were wasted. Karl had been foolish enough to supply Finn with another glass of the sangria, half of which got spilled in seconds as Finn burst into song.

“You know I've been drunk a thousand times,” he crooned into his glass. “Mhmm yeah BEST DAYS OF MY LIIIIIFE!”

Phil was the first to realise that they had an unusual visitor. After he had taken about six shots of tequila in succession he finally turned from the counter to grin drunkenly at everyone.

“Staaaan! You caaaame!” He hobbled over and threw his arms around him. “And Kaaaaarl! I looove you! And who is this?” he asked, as he noticed Kyle.

“Kyle. You know, my friend from home? You've been teasing me about him all week?” Stan prompted.

“Ohhhh.” Phil nodded and threw his arms around Kyle. “Great to meet youuuu! Wanna drink? Stan, you want one toooo?”

“Okay,” Kyle said, trying to wriggle free from Phil's iron grip.

“Sure,” said Stan, amused by Kyle's look of panic that only slightly abated when Phil released him.

“Coooooool,” said Phil, skipping over to the jug and pouring two glasses of drink, making large puddles on the counter in the process. They took their drinks before Phil had chance to make more of a mess, and started listening in on the current conversation.

“Yeah, and, so, Dominic's hair so totally moves him up the hot guy rankings in our year,” Giles said, waving his hands excitedly. “He kind of looks like, you know, that guy, in that film, the one about the singer who faked his own suicide, but that's not the guy I mean-”

“Wha' singer?” Finn asked, picking up the jug and drinking the sangria straight from it.

“The one who starts off as a laaaame folky guy but ends up being all bisexual! Karl, you know, I make you watch it all the time-”

“Yeah, yeah!” Karl pointed at Giles excitedly. “Oh, god, yes, his hair makes him look like the guy, what's his name, something...Wild something...”

“YES!”

“He looks like the Nirvana guy,” Gary mumbled. “Cobain.”

“Yeah, this guy looks like Cobain, too!” Stan sniffed his drink and recoiled, blinking. Kyle took a tiny sip and coughed. The two met each other's worried gaze.

“Strong stuff,” Kyle muttered, watching Finn devour what was left in the jug before turning back to Stan.

“Doesn't surprise me,” Stan muttered back. “You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Kyle assured him. They turned back to the others to find that they were being watched.

“Staaan, we asked you a que-question,” said Phil, both hands on the counter to keep himself propped up. “Who'd youuu think's hotter, Dominic or Brian?”

“Uh. Brian. Dominic looks half dead most of the time.”

“You suck,” said Giles. “And you're wrong. Kyle?”

“What?” Kyle asked, looking hunted. “What've I done?”

“Who'd you think is hooootteeeeer?”

“Having never met either, I really don't think I can judge.”

“Oh, yeah.” Finn staggered to the fridge and pulled out another jug.

“I have an amazingly amazing idea that will amaze you!” he announced. “Everyone, seats! We're going to play a drinking game!” He ushered them all to the kitchen table.

“What game?” Kyle asked, eyeing the jug warily.

“The name game!” Stan and Kyle looked blank as the others cheered.

“The what?”

“Okay, I say a name of a famous person. Say...Carrie Underwood. The next person would have to think of a name that began with a 'U'. Like, um... Okay, pretend I didn't say her. Pretend I said Michael Jackson, so the person next to me would have to think of someone whose name began with a 'J”! Like Jared Leno! Then it would carry on to the next person.”

“But, but, but,” Giles interrupted. “If they'd said Janet Jackson, it would go back the other way!”

“You'll pick it up,” Karl assured them. “And you do have the advantage of being less drunk than everyone else!”