Title: "Happy Birthday, Stan"

Author: sensatsu

Fandom: South Park

Genre: Romance, Friendship, Fluff

Rating: PG-13

Pairing: Style (Stan/Kyle)

Warnings: Minimal amounts of foul language, IT'S SO FLUFFAY!

Summary: Kyle's birthday presents had always been the best.

Author's Note: Inspired by ht tp :/ style-fans. deviantart .com/favourites/?set=38549390&offset=48#/d2c1kz0 on deviantArt.

Even when they were toddlers, Stan always looked forward to his birthday more than any other day of the year. Sure, the streamers and cake and ice cream were great, and having a one-day reprieve from being asked to murder his grandpa was relieving, but what Stan anticipated the most was his yearly present from Kyle.

The Broflovskis would bring their little boy over on the day of Stan's birthday party, and the boys would crawl upstairs to play. Sometimes it would be Megaman, sometimes cowboys and Indians, and sometimes they'd just lay on the floor and talk. But no matter what they did, Kyle would always be spending the night and he'd always wait until the next morning to give Stan his present. At sunrise they would creep downstairs and go out to sit on the stoop, and it was there that Kyle would give Stan whatever he'd gotten him for his birthday. No matter what, that was always the present he cherished the most.

On the day after his third birthday, it was a shiny rock that Stan still had on his windowsill more than a decade later.

On the day after his eighth birthday, it was the red Megaman that Kyle hadn't given Cartman for his birthday. "The fatass didn't deserve it," he said like it made all the sense in the world. Stan still had it on his bookshelf next to his copy of Great Expectations.

On the day after his thirteenth birthday, it was a Playboy magazine still in its plastic wrapping.

Stan had never opened it, and he was pretty sure it was still hiding under his bed covered in a two inch thick layer of dust.

Today had been his sixteenth birthday, and as usual Kyle had stayed the night. They'd spent their sleepover playing Call of Duty and gossiping about their classmates - like how they were pretty sure Wendy had ended up walking home from Cartman's last weekend wearing the same clothes she'd worn to the party the night before, and how Bebe had so gotten a boob job last summer. When they'd finally fallen asleep, tangled together in the blankets and still wearing their jeans and sweatshirts from that day, it was already after midnight.

Despite their late bedtime, Kyle woke him up just before dawn like he had for the past sixteen years.

"Come on," he said as he jabbed him repeatedly in the side, grinning all the while. Stan groaned and dragged himself out of bed. After they'd brushed their teeth and slipped on their coats and hats - which also hadn't changed much over the years - they went quietly downstairs and out the front door. Stan shivered when they sat on the cold stoop, partially from the cold and partly from anticipation of what Kyle was going to give him.

They sat there in silence for a little while, Kyle just watching the sunrise while Stan watched Kyle. He smiled as he watched the first rays of sunlight light up his best friend's wavy red hair, which had relaxed a little since they were younger, and resisted the urge to reach out and touch one of the shining strands. That would just be weird, right?

"So, um..." he began, not wanting to pull a Cartman and demand a present but still feeling really curious about what he was going to get. "Here we are."

'Here we are?' That was just so weak. How stupid could he get?

Kyle smiled, still watching the sun rise over the distant mountains and shifting a little closer to his Super Best Friend for warmth.

"It's a beautiful morning," he murmured, leaning his head over on Stan's shoulder.

What happened next happened so fast that it seemed surreal. Kyle lifted his head and grabbed Stan's scarf, pulling him into a gentle kiss that made Stan's eyes go wide and his heart skip a beat. The redhead only pulled away enough to whisper into the kiss.

"Happy Birthday, Stan," he said softly before closing his eyes and kissing him like there was no tomorrow.