KeruKeru: Here I am with chapter seven! I've been waiting so long to get to write this one and the next chapter, probably more excited than you guys have been to read them! Well, enjoy!

7. I Don't Want to Wake Up

It's been a month and I still can't believe any of it. "Date me." We're together… I'm ninety-five percent sure this is still a dream, but it's not one I ever want to wake up from. I want this warm, fuzzy feeling all the time, knowing he's mine. I've never felt so fucking happy without shit blowing up in my face. Or I never let myself be happy for the same reason. It's unnerving and wonderful and I don't want it to end.

In all reality, we're more or less like we've always been, pre-cheating on Wendy. We've always been comfortable around one another, regardless of the situation. We're literally dating our best friend which is what all the hopeless romantic crap says you're supposed to do anyway. He's so affectionate with me, taking any excuse he can to touch me… often in places he knows will get a rise out of me.

He tells me it's cute when I blush. Part of me still doesn't believe him, but it usually just makes me blush more and then he laughs and kisses me. I can't help but fall into him when he does. His kisses are probably my favorite part. I get to taste that 'Stan' flavor I've always loved. And just for the record, it does taste better with coffee.

I don't let him touch me in public. After what happened with those stupid jocks, I'm petrified of anyone seeing us together that way… I don't need another beating. He tries to tell me it's fine. I believe him, but I don't trust other people with my safety, nobody but him anyway. I think he's disappointed, but he assures me that he understands. The slight frown whenever I push the affection off is enough to make me feel guilty. I'm my own worst enemy, really.

I've asked him about him noticing other guys. He just laughs and tells me 'there are no guys but you' or something cheesy like that. Then I blush and he kisses me again. Maybe he really does like seeing me embarrassed. He's still 'Kyle-sexual' or whatever he called it. Shit, am I blushing again?

Think about something else, think about something else… Oh, Butters and Kenny. Kenny's practically moved in with my family too with how often he's over. My parents aren't Kenny's biggest fans, but so long as he doesn't smoke or drink here, they don't seem to complain. After all, they love Butters. Mom, especially. He helps her in the kitchen all the time. Her food's never been better.

Mom's tried to speak with the Stotchs about their son, but they seem apathetic to his well-being. She's said they even asked her 'who's Butters' at one point. We've made sure to keep both Butters and Kenny in the dark about this. Butters is more than happy now that he doesn't have to fear punishment outside of the house rules, I think. And Kenny doesn't need to protect him anymore. They can just be a real couple now.

Speaking of mom, her and Wendy got the GSA off the ground. I had to join out of guilt over the way I blew up at Wendy… I've apologized over and over for the way I acted. She forgives me every time and promises she isn't mad. It doesn't make me feel any better. They convinced Mr. Mackey to run the club as it needed faculty supervision.

So far it's just Wendy, Butters and I sitting around trying to figure out how to get more members. Kenny has been once, but it was mostly as a curtesy to Butters during the first meeting. We've had a few meetings since and he hasn't chosen to show up. I've attempted recruiting Tweek and Craig. Tweek seems mildly interested, but given Craig's abhorrence of anything social, I can't see them joining any time soon.

As for Stan, he doesn't know the club even exists. Or if he does, he's never talked to me about it. Honestly, I don't want him to join. He needs to keep up his image. The football season has been over for some time, but I can't be the reason he's not allowed to play anymore. He'd pretend it was fine, but it would just tear me up inside that he's not getting mad at me for it. So I keep it away from him as best I can.

Wendy and Butters couldn't decide who would lead the club. Butters insisted it be Wendy since it was her idea. Wendy insisted it be Butters since she thought an actually gay president would be better than some straight girl. To compromise, they're co-presidents. Technically, one is the president, the other is a vice president where the paperwork is concerned. They've kindly left me out of most of the decision making for the club, I'm there for my own conscience.

Now that the second half of our junior year is underway, I've begun researching colleges I'd like to attend. It's not that I wasn't before, only now it actually means something because we need to think about applications soon. Of course, because I'm so infatuated with Stan, I'm looking at schools for him too. Preferably relatively close to one another. Brown University seems promising for me.

It's far as fuck away from South Park which is a major plus. Their law program is internationally known. I have a good deal of money left over from the inheritance my grandparents left for tuition. Nowhere near the sum I need, but it's a start. I can't apply for any loans with my credit being fucked from when I bailed South Park out of debt. How does a nine year old even get a credit card? My chances of federal money are just as slim with my dad's income coupled with the lack of credit. It's all really fucked up.

As for Stan, I think Boston College is a good fit for him. They have a shitty football team according to the internet, but I'm sure he can help that. Plus they have an entire fine arts department. And it's only about an hour or so from Brown. That's assuming either of us get into the schools. Or that we even stay together after high school, after this school year even.

God, what am I doing? I can't be putting this kind of pressure on our relationship when it's so young… I'm not even sure if it's real yet. Any second I feel like I could wake up on Christmas morning and it's all been a sick dream. I hate this feeling so much.

I think Stan can sense my sudden agitation. He's on my bed, new sketchbook in hand while I'm at the desk on my laptop. "You know, it's called a laptop for a reason. It's meant to be on your lap while you're cuddling your boyfriend." He tries to lighten my mood. It works, of course.

I don't turn to reply. "Well, I'm just trying to figure out things for the future. You don't exactly lend yourself to assisting either of us in that." In fact, I know exactly what we'd be doing if I were over there. It would have little to do with college and involve less clothing.

I can practically hear his eyes roll. "You seem to make a lot of excuses to not want to touch me, Ky."

"You say that like I actually don't want to." I'd gladly have his hands all over me, mine roving him, distracting me from this self-induced anxiety. This is more important, however.

I hear the sketchbook being set down, I don't turn. He's padding softly toward me like I can't hear him. His arms come around my neck from behind. He leans into my ear. "We're not in public anymore, Ky. I can touch you to my heart's content." His voice is husky and I can feel all the blood rushing to my groin faster with each word. He reaches and shuts my laptop.

"Stan… We need to be figuring out our future." My voice is small and unconvincing. I'm not exactly intent on stopping his treatment.

He chuckles, breath tickling my ear. I'm red as all hell. "I think you can imagine what I see in our future." His teeth barely graze the skin of my earlobe and my body tenses. He bites, I moan. Fuck him. He's gotten too good at understanding my body.

I try to make myself seem reluctant. "Staaaaaaaan…" I whine, he knows I don't want him to stop. He bites me again and I stifle this moan to the best of my abilities. He's too good at this game, not that I'm complaining.

My body follows his orders, standing. His arms lower to my waist as he switches ears, my head tilting into the attention. He loves working me up, I think it's his favorite part. We walk, carefully, to my bed. His lips move to my neck. I can feel him smirk when I shiver at the contact. He bites again. My hand finds the back of his head, fisting in black hair and keeping him at my neck. The free hand entwines its fingers with one of his.

This is probably the fourth or fifth time this week he's caught me getting stressed and damn does he know how to keep my nagging thoughts at bay. He covers my neck in gentle kisses before his teeth sink in and my groin throbs inside my sweats. He presses himself against me, bulge evident through his own sweatpants. Thank god we were just lounging, I don't think I could deal with a zipper right now.

He's biting again, sucking the spots too. I love when he claims my neck. I'll need to cover the purple splotches, but they help remind me that I'm his, as if I'd forget. I let out a muffled groan, trying to keep a low profile so my family doesn't hear us. I have a real problem with volume when we get like this. Stan loves it, I'm sure.

Before I can register his teeth have left my neck, I find myself facing him. My cheeks are hot and surely red. He smirks. Smug asshole. And without warning he pushes me back on the bed. He quickly follows, climbing atop me.

Our lips clash instantly, his tongue wasting no time in entering my mouth. I think I gasp, but it's silenced by his tongue. That Stan taste is easily quelling all of my earlier anxiety. His tongue rolls over mine and mine over his, we're both hungry for each other. He readjusts slightly, but it's enough for our groins to make contact.

My hands grip at his shirt, tugging us closer. I want it off him, but I really don't want to stop kissing him right now. He seems to find a solution to the same problem as a warm hand creeps its way under my shirt, brushing over my bare skin. Another sharp exhale against him. I'm still not used to him touching me this way, I don't know if I ever will be.

He lifts, eliciting a whine from me. He's still smirking like a pompous ass, proud of himself. His shirt is up over his head and on the floor behind him. I can take this moment to explore his toned torso. His abs are faintly defined, pecs too. His arms though, they're so strong. I love when he wraps them around me. Every inch of him is perfect. Stan chuckles. "I should really be used to you staring at me by now." Fuck.

"S-Sorry…" I don't know why I'm apologizing. I'm allowed to look. It's all mine after all.

He shakes his head. "Dude, don't say sorry. That's your right as the boyfriend to get to look!" Stan smiles and my heart skips a beat like always. "Though, it is kinda funny to watch you drool like that."

Shit! "Just shut up and go back to kissing me." Now I'm self-conscious about looking at him. He doesn't move. "Come on!"

"Take off your shirt."

"I don't want to…" He's seen me shirtless so many times before and yet I still feel like ever time we're intimate like this, my scrawny-ass body is gonna make him run for the hills. Especially when it turns pink.

He just chuckles, leaning back over me. "You can take it off, or I can take it off." His voice is soft but the threat is evident.

I make quick work of the garment. The last time he took it off I lost a shirt… He replaced it, but still. I'm left shirtless beneath him, my embarrass-o-meter off the charts now. My torso is as pink as I thought it would be, as pink as it always is when we're like this. "I don't get it…"

He's drinking me in when my voice brings him back to reality. "What don't you get?"

I can't really look at him, playing with the covers on my bed. "I'm not all that sexy… I'm just thin and weird…" If I were taller, I'd be just as lanky as Tweek. Thankfully that's not the case.

"You're thin, weird and sexy." He says it so matter-of-factly. "Besides, I've never wanted to fuck anyone more than I've wanted to fuck you.

I roll my eyes. "Such a romantic sentiment." Though it does bring a little smile to my face.

He notices and smirks, leaning back over me. I can feel his breath on my face. I venture a look into those sapphire eyes. "You're sexy as hell to me. You don't have to agree because I already know it's a fact." It's not the words I want him to say, but I know he's not there yet. It makes my stomach all fluttery again.

Even with the good feelings, I'm never sure of myself. "I mean, you're obviously hot… I might be bias, but it's the truth." I want to go back to kissing him. "Am I thinking about this too much?"

He rolls the idea around in his head for a moment. "No, it's about the right amount for you, I think." I try to pout, but his smile disarms me. "Kyle, whether you believe it or not, you're the hottest person I know. I may not fully understand myself, but I know that's true." He plants a soft kiss on my cheek. The spot tingles. "I mean, you couldn't make me this hard otherwise, right?" He jiggles his hips against mine to make his point, our colliding groins only serving to make us both gasp.

I really want to get back to what we were doing… I take the initiative. My arms coil around his waist and tug him down on to me. He's not expecting it. I kiss him. It's not as hungry as it was before. I think he gets that. His hand fists into my hair, I'll need to restyle it. The other hand finds its way beneath me, sneaking under my boxers for my ass. I instinctively arc away and wind up ramming our bulges together.

Okay, maybe there's a little hunger. But I try to keep the kiss romantic and sweet. I want him to know I appreciate his words even if I don't believe them. I don't claim his mouth like he did mine, I let our tongues dance with one another. Whether he's getting my message or not is quickly becoming pointless. His flavor is reigniting my lust for him and I think he's feeling the same. He throbs between us.

His hand tightens on my rear, our hips pressed tightly. I groan softly against his lips. My hands find their way to the hem of his sweats and start pulling. He gets the message and we're apart again. This time he has to stand up to shuck off the clothing.

I love watching him undress. Every part of him is fun to watch. "You're drooling again." His voice snaps me back.

"Shut up!" This time I actually do pout. I scan his body with my eyes, taking in every inch of skin I've already touched a hundred times before.

I think he gets off on me watching, he's flexing a little. Not that I mind. "Your turn." Before I can protest, his fingers are curled into the hem of my own pants. He slides them off with ease and I'm left stark naked at his mercy.

I get myself resituated on the bed so that we're not hanging part way off. The entire time I'm trying to forget that I'm exposed. "Stop watching me!" I don't want him to stop.

"No." His tone is playfully defiant and he practically jumps back on top of me. His teeth find my neck quickly, more love bites following soon after. "I'm gonna fuck you, Ky." He whispers into my ear. The husky tone and sentiment make me writhe. He chuckles. Fucker.

He leans over to my nightstand and rummages through the drawer. Way in the back is the large bottle of lube we invested in. Our first time, dry, wasn't exactly that pleasant afterward… It didn't help Stan was drunk, but still.

He's so meticulous like this. He readjusts so he's between my legs, flips the cap and squirts some of the fluid on his hand. He doesn't bother with himself first, instead opting to- "Cold! Cold!" I never expect it even after all this time. I shiver as the lubricant is spread. He inserts one finger just to make me shiver again. "Asshole…" He knows how easy it is for him to rile me.

He just smirks and keeps at his work. The digit is gentle, pushing and pulling at my insides. I want his cock, but he's toying with me. The second finger makes me gasp and arch up, needy. "Dammit Stan… just fuck me already…" I'm certainly ready, physically and mentally.

"Someone's eager." He listens though and his fingers retract. Another squirt and I watch him rub the lubricant on his cock and then reach over to replace the bottle in my nightstand. "Ready?" He lifts my legs over his shoulders with ease.

I nod, biting my lip now that I can feel him pressed against me. I don't know if I'll ever get used to this feeling. He nods back. He rears up and pushes in, slowly at first, but I'm quickly hilted on him. He doesn't let my accompanying moan escape, covering my mouth with his before I can alert the entire house to our escapades.

His dick is bigger than his fingers, I feel full. I clench reactively and I'm greeted by a moan from him now! I've taken him enough that we know I don't need to get as acquainted to him as I used to. His hips retreat before shoving back against me. I'm thankful for him kissing me because he's figured out where my prostate is and has a habit of 'accidentally' ramming into it. My own length throbs when he does.

Another thrust, this time without hitting my sweet spot. His lips leave mine. He kisses over my cheek. Another thrust. My fingers curl into the bedspread. He nibbles along my jaw. Each thrust is coming faster now. I try to keep quiet.

I'm leaking like a broken faucet. He makes direct contact with my prostate and I have to bite my lip as the pleasure shoots right up my spine. He's at my neck again. He really likes it there. His teeth find my pulse and accompanied with his ramming my ass, I writhe beneath him.

I can't keep myself still now. It's impossible. I'm panting as he claims me. The only person to ever do so. I'm his and he knows it. He throbs inside me, a shimmer of sweat appearing on his skin now.

He's back at my lips, apparently starving as he ravishes me. I tighten around him as he rams in. The next thrust is to my sensitive gland. My knuckles are turning white against the covers. He tugs on my bottom lip with his teeth and I exhale deeply.

His hips are getting more feverish, losing their mercy for my prostate and just having at it. I'm thankful to have him kissing me right now, even muffled I'm too damn loud. The familiar sensation is bubbling up in my stomach. I should warn him, but I think he knows.

One more pound against my gland and I'm undone. My hands come immediately to the back of his neck to keep him there. I let out my orgasmic moan into his mouth. The muscles in my body tighten and I hear him groan too. He buries himself inside me. I can feel the warmth of his cum. My own is splattering over the both of us.

Our orgasms ebb away and our lips detach, we're both panting. Neither of us wants to move from the other. I don't, anyway. "Fuck…" I try to catch my breath. It smells like sex in here and mom has the nose of a bloodhound. I need Febreeze.

He presses his forehead to mine, more apt at catching his breath given he's an athlete. "Yeah, we did." He chuckles at his own joke.

I can't help but move and he exhales, we're both sensitive after that, but he doesn't seem to want to pull out yet. We just remain, basking in each other's afterglow. This might be my favorite part. Our naked bodies huddled together, knowing how we're the only ones who make the other feel like this.

I kiss him, not inciting anything more, just a kiss. He's more than happy to accept. "See? You're hot as fuck." He kisses me this time. "Nobody can make me cum like you do."

I laugh at that. "Again, so romantic." His cock has deflated and left me by now. I can still feel him sloshing around inside me though.

"Just telling it like it is, Ky." He doesn't seem intent on getting off me. I don't think I really want him to get off me. I could easily fall asleep here.

I sigh contentedly when a thought occurs. "You realize this is exactly what I meant by 'you not helping', right?"

He nods excitedly, grinning. "Of course I do. That was the point." The last centimeters close between us, our bodies sandwiching my cum.

"We need a shower."

We're both thinking the same thing: take one together. It's only ethical. Don't want to waste water or anything, right?

Okay, so, to be fair, that shower may have taken a lot longer than it was supposed to. It's hard not to get carried away when we're with each other. This was my point though! This was why I was trying to keep away from him while I looked at schools. I mean, it's not like I didn't enjoy myself. Jesus fuck, did I. But college application season is right around the corner and we can't be putting it off!

Stan spent the night, of course. I warned him beforehand there would be no sex for the rest of the night. Yeah, fat lot of good that did. I wasn't woken up by my alarm, but rather him biting at my throat. It didn't help that morning wood is a thing either. Suffice it to say, we blew each other. It's much less mess. Plus, I was a little sore.

Thanks to the hickies I've received, I'm forced to wear a scarf to school, something I don't often do. I catch Wendy eyeing me as we look over college brochures in the library. My wearing a scarf is out of character, never mind keeping it on inside. "I know you're dying to ask. Just say it." I put down a brochure for Brown.

She blinks, not expecting that I could feel her eyes on me. "I don't want to say anything…" Come on, you're a better liar than that.

"Wendy, you've been staring at it all day."

"At what?"

"Wendy!"

"Okay, okay. Jeez. I've just never seen you wear a scarf inside, is all." She giggles at the implications behind it. "I imagine you and Stan had fun."

I can't fight the blush, even if I know that she's aware of our relationship. "Yeah…" I loosen the scarf and can't look her in the eyes when it falls away. There are a couple big purple splotches on either side of my neck, surrounded by smaller bite marks.

She stares at them. "Oh, wow…"

I replace the garment. "Stan gets… very friendly." I won't deny my love for it though. I think I have a thing for him marking me like this. It's fucking hot knowing I'm his this way. Not to mention getting them makes me want to fucking explode… shitshitshit, don't pop a boner, don't pop a boner. Grandma, grandma, grandma… there we go.

Wendy's just watching me, concern clear on her face. "I can see that." She takes up the school's old college catalog to return to her research. I think she wants to be disappointed in both of us, she can be kind of a prude like that. But she knows it makes us happy.

"So, have you given any more thought to Berkeley?" I think it's time for a subject change so we're not as focused on my neck.

She flips a page in the catalog. "I don't know. I mean, I could pretty much go anywhere and California is so blasé." She sounds arrogant, but she has every right to be. Wendy works her ass off to remain at the top of our class, as well as juggling her time on the volleyball team. I think she has a job somewhere, but I can't remember for sure.

My eyes fall to the Brown pamphlet and I pick it up. I've examined it so many times, I could practically recite every word without looking at it. "I can't wait to see New England. It'll be humid and expensive as hell, but it'll be worth it to get out of this hick town."

"Humid in the summer, freezing in the winter. From what I hear, it's really only the fall and spring that don't make you want to die." She giggles, finished with another page.

I nod. There's a picture of Brown's front gates adorning the pamphlet's cover. I want to walk through those myself. "They barely accept ten percent of applicants and most of them are more qualified than I am." Self-consciousness, where have you been?

Wendy looks at me incredulously. "Kyle, you can't be serious. There are two of the top three students in this school sitting at this table. We're only missing Butters." Oh, right, I always forget how smart Butters really is. All that studying his parents forced on him seemed to pay off. "I think your only problem would be extra-curriculars. Seeing as you're a founding member of our GSA, Brown will see you stand up for justice."

My eyebrow raises at her overly dramatic words. "You're kidding, right?"

"Only partially." She giggles. "I really do think you could make it to Brown. It wouldn't be the first time you overcame some impossible ordeal. You found the cure for AIDS, for pete's sake!"

I roll my eyes at that. "Cartman and I did. And it's not as if it's an easy cure. $180,000 in pure cash. As far as I know, Cartman, Magic Johnson and I are the only ones cured." Even so, it was a start.

She shrugs. "Still, it's something. Regardless of the facts, it was to illustrate a point. If you want something bad enough, it'll come to you in time." She smiles softly. "Just look at Stan."

I can't help but chuckle at that. "Ah yes, because I've got a few years of never telling Brown I want to attend it, then run away when I actually get up the nerve to do so."

"You're just being difficult."

I shrug, I can't disagree with that. "Yeah, pretty much."

It's her turn to roll her eyes at me. "The point is, you have the ability to go to Brown if it's what you want. Your odds aren't great, no. But no Ivy League has the greatest odds. Berkeley's only seventeen percent acceptance. And it's not even an Ivy school!"

She does have a point. "I guess you're right…" I still don't have the highest expectations for Brown, but I really want to go.

"The key is having back-ups." She sets the catalog down and digs through her purse. Three of her own pamphlets are in her hand. One for Berkeley, one for the University of Washington and the last is from Harvard. "UW is my back-up, Harvard's more of a pipedream."

I look over the schools and remember Wendy's own law aspirations. A civil attorney. She's always leaned more towards the 'social justice warrior' side of things. "If everything works out, we could all be studying on the East Coast together." The thought makes me chuckle.

"Oh, Stan's looking at schools there too?"

I rub the back of my neck in embarrassment. "Well, not exactly. I'm looking at them for him. He hasn't given a second thought to where he wants to go yet." I really wish he would. I need to know what he wants to follow through with.

She giggles once more, taking up the catalog again. "That sounds like Stan." We're left in comfortable silence for a few seconds before she continues. "What were you looking at for him?"

"Something close to Brown… back when I thought I had a shot." The self-deprecation makes me smile, folding a corner of my brochure. "Boston College is only about an hour out of Providence. It has a football team he can try out for and a fine arts program. I figure he has a good chance with both."

"I forgot what a great artist he is… er… sorry." She must be remembering the art show.

I shake my head. "Don't worry about it. I'm apparently his model a lot." The sketchbooks filed away into my desk come to mind immediately.

Wendy flushes pink this time. "Well, I'm sure he'll have no problem getting a spot in their art school." Yeah, but what happens when he's accepted and I'm not?

Before I can voice my concerns, that voice that grates at my brain like nails on a chalkboard decides to make itself known. "Sup bitch, Jew?" Dammit, Cartman.

Wendy seems to ignore his nickname for her. "Eric." Her voice is curt and to the point. She hates him almost as much as I do. She's gripping the catalog to keep from hitting him.

I think he notices her tensing because he snickers. "I just wanted to come over and tell you I can't wait for your invitation to the Valentine's dance next Friday. I mean, since Stan's a fag and all." Oh shit, I'm crushing my brochure in my fist!

"As much as I relish the offer," Her voice is full of so much sarcasm, it's practically oozing out of her mouth, "I'm afraid I'll have to decline." I imagine she's picturing all the ways she'd decapitate him right now. I can sympathize.

He just shrugs at her response. "Whatever, bitch, 's your loss. Was gonna take you to Casa Bonita, but I guess I'll just have fun all by myself." Oh god, is that place still even open?

Wendy breathes in deeply, keeping herself calm. "How would that be different from any other night, for you?" I laugh at that. Wendy is savage when she needs to be.

"'Ey! For your information, just last week I got it in with that hot Canadian girl!"

"So did most of the football team." Stan and Craig are the only ones I'm certain didn't.

He glares at me, less power behind it than he thinks there is. "Shut up, Jew. Go ride Stan's dick or something. I'm trying to seduce Wendy."

Wendy pinches the bridge of her nose; apparently we both got that from Stan. "Eric, I'm not going out with you. Not even if you paid me my entire weight in gold." It would probably take more than that, even.

He scoffs. "Fine, I'll just have to take someone more deserving."

"If you say so, Eric. Now please leave us alone." Her tone is even, but the look in her eyes says she's ready to kill and he scurries away as soon as they fall on him. "Now that that's over…"

"Wait… next week is Valentine's Day?" Fuck, how could I forget that? And why is Eric Cartman the one who reminded me?

Wendy's brow raises questioningly. "You forgot? There have been posters all over school about the dance." She thinks a moment. "They've had hearts plastered on the walls since mid-January!"

My head sinks to the table in a mixture of shame and embarrassment. "Fuuuuuuuuuuck…" The image of a disappointed Stan holding out a present for me when I've gotten him nothing appears in my head. "What am I supposed to do?"

"Well, you still have about a week. I'm sure you can figure something out. Stan's not exactly the hardest to please when it comes to this holiday." She should know.

Guilt wiggles its way into the mix of self-deprecating emotions now that she says that. "Sorry… I don't mean to bring this up to you…" I don't like thinking I stole Stan from her even if it's sort of what happened.

She just rolls her eyes, head shaking. "Kyle, I've told you numerous times. I don't blame you for what happened with Stan. Yes, I was a little disappointed at first, but you two make more sense than Stan and I ever did." I know she's just saying that.

"Well… what am I supposed to get him? We've been dating for a month…" I may as well get something out of my guilt.

"Like I said, Stan's not hard to please. He would be happy just curling up and watching a movie together." She's silent for a moment, contemplative. "Though, that was with me. I don't know how different he'll be with you."

I let my head bang against the desk a couple times. "I hate stuff like this…" Mainly because I've never had to celebrate this holiday before.

I hear the catalog close for good. "Just do something from the heart like all the clichés say! It usually works." I guess that's good advice…

"I don't know… we'll see, I guess." I can't look over colleges anymore and pick up my backpack to leave. "I'll see you later, Wendy." Then the thought occurs to me. "Sorry, again."

She giggles softly as I make way to leave. "Stop apologizing, Kyle." Yeah, if it were that easy.

The rest of the school day is full of my self-conscience kicking itself for not being able to think up the perfect gift for Stan. I thought about another piece of Lambtron memorabilia, but that seems like such a cop-out now. A new sketch book? No, he already got those for Christmas from his mom. Ugh, I hate this all. How am I supposed to express my undying love for him if I can't even figure out what to get him?

He can sense my anxiety as we walk through the door to my house. We would hang out at his house more, but he's not out to his parents yet. Granted, mine aren't fully aware of our relationship yet. "You alright? You've been on edge all day." Sure, now he can pick up on my subtle hints.

"Yeah… I'm fine." That's unconvincing as hell. "Did you know next week is Valentine's Day?" I blurt out before he can catch me in the lie.

He just blinks at me. "Uhh… yeah, didn't you?" So we know who the better boyfriend is.

I shake my head, wilting. "No, I completely forgot… Fucking Cartman had to remind me." That's probably worse than forgetting the holiday by itself.

"Oh, shit…" He wraps me in a hug instantly. Good, I need one… "You don't have to get me anything." I snuggle into him, knowing well that's the biggest Valentine's lie anyone ever tells.

I shake my head, chuckling sardonically. "Yeah, I do. How else will I be able to commercially prove you're my boyfriend?"

"You don't have to prove anything, Kyle. You could by me a shitty movie and I'd be happy just cuddling and watching it!" I have to laugh at that.

"Wendy said the same thing…" I wriggle out of his embrace as much as I don't want to.

He doesn't mention it. "Why do you feel so pressured to get me anything?"

"Because you're amazing! You tell me not to get you anything and all it makes me want is to buy you an entire fucking store full of chocolate and goodies!" Okay, maybe that's a little over-dramatic, but my point still stands.

He just chuckles, letting his hand find mine and tangle together. "Well, I do like chocolate…" He squeezes my hand. "But Kyle, really, you don't have to do anything. I already had a plan for Valentine's Day anyway!" He grins.

My brow furrows. "What's the plan…?" As if he'd actually tell me.

"I can't ruin the surprise, Ky. What would be the fun in that?" I could feel less guilty about not getting you anything yet.

My head lowers a little. "I just want to make it perfect for you…"

He shakes his head, free hand coming to rest on my cheek. It warms at his touch instantly. "Dude, every day with you has been perfect. I mean, I could be fully gay and it wouldn't matter because you're the greatest guy in the world!" He kisses my nose teasingly. "There's nothing you could do that would make us more perfect in my eyes."

I can't help but chuckle at his words. "You sound like a fucking Hallmark card." Though everything he said makes my heart skip a beat.

"I could probably get a job there. But they'd be terrible cards because they'd be all about you. Only gay Kyles could get them from their boyfriends." He's such a fucking sap sometimes, I love it. I love him.

"That wouldn't be so bad… for me at least…" I imagine they'd all be perfectly decorated with some sketch of his. "As long as I'm not naked on any of them!"

He snickers. "But that was gonna be my whole marketing strategy!" I can tell he's joking.

"You're an ass, you know that?"

"I'm your ass."

"You fuck yourself?"

He laughs at that. "Touché, babe, touché." I blush. "Something wrong?"

I shake my head. "No, you've just never called me 'babe' before… I kinda liked it."

"Dually noted."

We're quiet for a moment, just enjoying the other's company before my earlier conversation with Cartman and Wendy returns to my head. "Oh, what about the dance on Friday?"

"I was planning on taking you, unless you don't want to go." I realize his hand is still at my cheek and lean into it.

"No, I'll go… but I don't like dancing…" I just want an excuse to be pressed up against my hot boyfriend.

He nods. "I get at least one dance."

I pale at the thought. "What if other people see us?!" I'm not ready to ruin Stan's reputation. "I got the shit kicked out of me just when guys thought we were together, I don't need to know what'll happen now that we actually are!"

"Dude, weren't you the one who just said you wanted to buy me a candy store?" Well… yeah… "I want to dance with my boyfriend in front of everyone. If anyone gives us a problem, I'll beat the shit out of them myself!"

I shake my head, terrified. "No! I don't want you getting expelled because of me! It's bad enough I'd tarnish your reputation…"

He stares at me incredulously. "Kyle, is that really what you think?"

"Yes… You need to stay on the football team and get athletic scholarships and stuff… I don't want to take that away from you!" Especially with all the work I've been doing on finding us schools to go to.

He smiles, tugging me into him for another hug. I don't resist. "You wouldn't be taking anything from me. Yeah, the football team is a bunch of assholes sometimes, but they kinda banded together after those two beat you up. They didn't care to hear the details of what you and I did, but they don't think less of me for it." He's petting my hair and the unnecessary need to restyle it comes to mind. "Besides, Coach has promised to keep me on regardless."

He's really too good for me. "Yeah, but what happens when parents lose their shit over a 'homosexual' in the locker rooms or something?!" I know he's not sure of his sexuality, but still.

He shrugs. "Let 'em."

"How can you be so caviler about this?" It's your future for fuck's sake!

"Kyle, you're what's important to me. Not football, not drawing, you. Even before we got together, that's been true! You're what matters to me and if anyone has a problem with that, they can go fuck themselves!" He just has an answer for everything that makes my heart sore. "If you really don't want to dance with me, then fine, but don't ever think I'd pick football over you."

I don't know how he manages to make me feel precious and guilty at the same time, but he's good at it. "I don't know what to say…" Any convoluted reason I come up with for us not to be together, he seems to be able to counter, so it's really pointless for me to try coming up with more.

He pulls back only slightly. Enough for us to come face to face. "Say you'll go to the dance with me!"

I can't really say no. I don't want to say no. "I'll go, but you can't make me dance!"

"I take that as a challenge." His grin is smug before he leans in and plants a kiss on my lips.

The next voice I hear makes me jump immediately out of Stan's arms. "Oh, you two are just so cute!" It's my mother…

"Mom!" I try to put as much distance between Stan and I as possible. We weren't just kissing or anything.

She just laughs at my attempts to cover up our relationship. "Oh please, Bubeh, I've known about you two this whole time! Honestly, I'm disappointed you weren't together before last month! You have such a special bond most marriages don't even share!"

I'm left frozen in place before Stan's arm wraps around me and pulls me into his side. "What gave us away?" How is not freaked out by this?!

"Well, I've had my suspicions, but listening to all that just now confirmed everything." She acts like eavesdropping is totally normal and not an invasion of privacy.

I blanch. "Mom, you were listening to us?!" This is almost as bad as learning she won twenty bucks off my sexuality.

"Kyle, you decided to have this conversation in the living room, you weren't exactly being discrete." Well, she's not wrong.

I just glare off into space at my own stupidity. "Let me guess, you and dad made another bet about Stan and I?" Stan chuckles.

My mom shakes her head. "No, not this time. Your father thought you and Eric Cartman would end up together the way you two fight and carry on." That thought makes me want to vomit.

"Well, Mrs. Broflovski, do I have your permission to keep dating your son?" Stan, stop acting like we're getting engaged!

She nods. "Of course, Stanley, you've always had my permission!" I really just want to shrivel up and die right now. "I take it you'll be staying for dinner, again?"

"If you'll have me!" He snickers at me and I return a death glare. He's unphased.

She smiles at him. "Good, I'll get the roast into the oven, then!" And she disappears into the kitchen, a small clattering of pots and pans to follow.

"You're mom ships us really hard." He's so smug.

My face is beet red. "Shut up…"

KeruKeru: I hope you all liked seeing them be all cute and adorable together after so long! I know I enjoyed writing it! Thanks to all people who reviewed the last chapter: MelancholyDusk, spiceypepper, tvwords97, blueneko8 and madhealingbaker! You guys are awesome!