Simplicity, SK oneshot
Fandom: South Park
Pairing: Stan/Kyle
Rating: G
Summary: Love is not always complicated.
Notes: It's simple. Yay.
Simplicity
Not all love stories are that complicated.
In this one our protagonist just asked a question...
***
“Dad?”
“Hm?”
“What’s a homo?”
Hearing this unexpected question made Randy Marsh drop the newspaper he was reading and look into the eyes of his son. Stanley Marsh was staring right back at him, his baby blue eyes shimmering with naïve curiosity. Randy scratched his chin, collected the paper from the floor and put it on the sofa table.
“Sit here for a moment, son,” he said and gestured towards the sofa. Stan climbed clumsily on it, as he was smaller than an average five-year-old and for some reason a lot whole clumsier. Sharon had once commented that it had to be from Randy’s side, not hers. Randy didn’t find this believable, but hadn’t said anything.
Stan eyed his father curiously, expecting a straight answer like always. This time, though, Randy was a bit unsure of what to say.
“Where did you learn that word, Stan?”
Stan pursed his lips. “The other boys in the pre-school... They said that me and Kyle are homos.”
Randy lifted his brows. “They did?”
“Yeah. What’s a homo?”
Randy sighed. “It’s an insult. It means a man who likes other men. Now tell me, Stan, who were those boys? I’m really going to talk to their parents of a thing or two-”
“How come is it an insult?”
“Huh?”
Stan pouted. “You said that a homo is a man who likes other men. Why is it an insult?”
“Stan, it’s not an insult, per se... It’s... just...” Where was Sharon when he needed her? She was much better at telling Stan things like this. She always found a way to distract their a-bit-too-smart son’s thoughts by promising him ice cream or something like that; but Sharon was buying clothes for Shelly, and he was now completely on his own and was forced to tell his son of a world he rather would have not mentioned. “Look, Stan, you know what a minority is, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, people usually find minorities scary and odd, and that’s why they use the minorities as an insult. Do you understand?”
“No,” Stan firmly said, “a homo’s not a minority!”
“Huh?”
“Well, I like Kyle and Kenny and sometimes Eric too, and they like other boys too! It’s not a minority.”
“Stan, that’s... uh... That’s not it. That’s friendship. Being gay is completely another thing.”
“‘Gay’?”
“A homo, homosexual, gay. They all mean the same thing. A gay man likes men more than anything else.”
“Oh.” Stan fell silent, and Randy smiled and picked up his paper again. Perhaps he wasn’t the only one who could explain things clearly to their son! “So a gay likes other men?”
“More than women, yeah,” Randy said absently - he was already reading about the odds of the Cows winning the next game. Stan nudged him, and he put his paper away, sighing. “Yes, Stan?”
“Dad, I think I’m a homo, then. I like Kyle more than any other person.”
Had Randy been drinking his usual beer, he had probably coughed on it by now. Fortunately, he had passed the beer this time under Sharon’s mean look. “Stan, uh, that’s not what being gay is. A gay is someone who likes other men... like you would like girls.”
Sharon... Please open that door now and come save me...
“But girls are icky! They just wanna do stupid things, like play house or kiss.”
Randy huffed. “Look, Stan, you’ll understand when you’re older. I’m pretty sure that you’ll up being a stereotypical heterosexual male, like me.”
Stan glanced at his father and smiled, and Randy picked up his paper once again. Perhaps Stan would now drop the subject and never mention it again - at least when he wasn’t old enough to discuss that kind of thing, anyway.
Stan had already jumped down from the couch and ran to the door (there had been a sound of car parking, so Sharon was probably back), when Randy remembered one thing.
“Stan, why did the other boys call you and Kyle homos again?”
“Me and Kyle? Oh, they said that we were homos when we told them that when we are old enough, we want to get married.”
“You... what?”
“Like you and mommy! You get to live together and be together forever!” He smiled widely to his father. “That would be cool!”
Randy resisted the urge to bang his head to the sofa table, because that very moment Sharon entered the house and he really didn’t want his wife asking questions about that. With good luck, Stan would forget their whole conversation and never mention it again.
***
“Stan?”
“Hm?”
“What’re you smiling at?”
Stan snapped back to reality and sighed when he noticed that the unfinished essay of political changes in German and England during the World War Two hadn’t disappeared anywhere but was still right in front of him. His best friend Kyle was looking at him worriedly from the other side of the table.
“Aw, nothing... I was just thinking something.” Stan flipped the page, still displeased that his research material hadn’t changed to be any easier. “You know, now that we’re both eighteen, been a while, already... we get to marry and stuff.”
Kyle nodded, his look still more worried than anything. Stan shrugged. “I was just remembering something. You know... That one time in the pre-school, where we, uh, well...”
“Yes?” Kyle said with faked patience - he was famous for losing his temper easily, as Stan had to witness too many times. He hurried on:
“Well, we told everyone that we wanted to get married, because we thought that ‘getting married’ would mean living in the same house and staying together forever, or something like that, and then everyone called us homos.”
Kyle blinked; Stan had once again blabbered everything out so quickly that he had trouble concentrating on it all at once. Stan shrugged again, now embarrassed that he had brought up the memory at all. Kyle looked only mildly interested, shrugged as well and turned back to his history book.
While Kyle was focusing on his studies, Stan couldn’t concentrate at all. He kept tapping his pencil against the table until he decided to give up and closed his book.
“Do you remember that, Kyle?”
“Huh? Yeah, of course I do.” He smiled. “We were a bit... misinformed that time.”
“Yeah,” Stan laughed, but it was hollow. He was silent for minute, gulped and then continued: “But, you know, we practically are married right now...”
Kyle looked up from his book and furrowed his brows. “What do you mean?”
“Well, we live in the same apartment, share a car, sleep in the same room, buy food together... you know,” Stan stammered. Kyle’s look was unreadable, and Stan bravely continued, determined to say everything he had wanted to say for a long time: “And, you know, since we practically are married already, wouldn’t it make sense just to get married legally?”
There was a grave silence after that - Stan was staring at his feet, unable to look at Kyle, who was in turn looking at Stan thoughtfully. Finally Kyle closed his book and smiled at Stan.
“You’re asking me to marry you?”
“Ye-yeah... kinda.”
“‘Kinda’,” Kyle repeated, a smile playing on his lips. “Okay then.”
“Wh-what?”
“I do.”
Stan gaped at him, confused at first, but then his look melted into a smile. “You-you understand what I just... just said?”
“I think my answer can’t be interpreted in more than one way,” Kyle chuckled. “But only if you’ll be the bride.”
“What?” Stan hissed. “No way in hell! You can walk to the altar alone for all that I care, but I’m not going to-”
“I was just kidding, Stanley dear,” Kyle rolled his eyes. “It’s called sarcasm, you jerk. I was joking about the stereotypes of homosexual relationships in general and-”
“Kyle?”
“What?”
“Shut the hell up and kiss me.”
***
And it was as simple as that.
End.
Pairing: Stan/Kyle
Rating: G
Summary: Love is not always complicated.
Notes: It's simple. Yay.
Simplicity
Not all love stories are that complicated.
In this one our protagonist just asked a question...
***
“Dad?”
“Hm?”
“What’s a homo?”
Hearing this unexpected question made Randy Marsh drop the newspaper he was reading and look into the eyes of his son. Stanley Marsh was staring right back at him, his baby blue eyes shimmering with naïve curiosity. Randy scratched his chin, collected the paper from the floor and put it on the sofa table.
“Sit here for a moment, son,” he said and gestured towards the sofa. Stan climbed clumsily on it, as he was smaller than an average five-year-old and for some reason a lot whole clumsier. Sharon had once commented that it had to be from Randy’s side, not hers. Randy didn’t find this believable, but hadn’t said anything.
Stan eyed his father curiously, expecting a straight answer like always. This time, though, Randy was a bit unsure of what to say.
“Where did you learn that word, Stan?”
Stan pursed his lips. “The other boys in the pre-school... They said that me and Kyle are homos.”
Randy lifted his brows. “They did?”
“Yeah. What’s a homo?”
Randy sighed. “It’s an insult. It means a man who likes other men. Now tell me, Stan, who were those boys? I’m really going to talk to their parents of a thing or two-”
“How come is it an insult?”
“Huh?”
Stan pouted. “You said that a homo is a man who likes other men. Why is it an insult?”
“Stan, it’s not an insult, per se... It’s... just...” Where was Sharon when he needed her? She was much better at telling Stan things like this. She always found a way to distract their a-bit-too-smart son’s thoughts by promising him ice cream or something like that; but Sharon was buying clothes for Shelly, and he was now completely on his own and was forced to tell his son of a world he rather would have not mentioned. “Look, Stan, you know what a minority is, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, people usually find minorities scary and odd, and that’s why they use the minorities as an insult. Do you understand?”
“No,” Stan firmly said, “a homo’s not a minority!”
“Huh?”
“Well, I like Kyle and Kenny and sometimes Eric too, and they like other boys too! It’s not a minority.”
“Stan, that’s... uh... That’s not it. That’s friendship. Being gay is completely another thing.”
“‘Gay’?”
“A homo, homosexual, gay. They all mean the same thing. A gay man likes men more than anything else.”
“Oh.” Stan fell silent, and Randy smiled and picked up his paper again. Perhaps he wasn’t the only one who could explain things clearly to their son! “So a gay likes other men?”
“More than women, yeah,” Randy said absently - he was already reading about the odds of the Cows winning the next game. Stan nudged him, and he put his paper away, sighing. “Yes, Stan?”
“Dad, I think I’m a homo, then. I like Kyle more than any other person.”
Had Randy been drinking his usual beer, he had probably coughed on it by now. Fortunately, he had passed the beer this time under Sharon’s mean look. “Stan, uh, that’s not what being gay is. A gay is someone who likes other men... like you would like girls.”
Sharon... Please open that door now and come save me...
“But girls are icky! They just wanna do stupid things, like play house or kiss.”
Randy huffed. “Look, Stan, you’ll understand when you’re older. I’m pretty sure that you’ll up being a stereotypical heterosexual male, like me.”
Stan glanced at his father and smiled, and Randy picked up his paper once again. Perhaps Stan would now drop the subject and never mention it again - at least when he wasn’t old enough to discuss that kind of thing, anyway.
Stan had already jumped down from the couch and ran to the door (there had been a sound of car parking, so Sharon was probably back), when Randy remembered one thing.
“Stan, why did the other boys call you and Kyle homos again?”
“Me and Kyle? Oh, they said that we were homos when we told them that when we are old enough, we want to get married.”
“You... what?”
“Like you and mommy! You get to live together and be together forever!” He smiled widely to his father. “That would be cool!”
Randy resisted the urge to bang his head to the sofa table, because that very moment Sharon entered the house and he really didn’t want his wife asking questions about that. With good luck, Stan would forget their whole conversation and never mention it again.
***
“Stan?”
“Hm?”
“What’re you smiling at?”
Stan snapped back to reality and sighed when he noticed that the unfinished essay of political changes in German and England during the World War Two hadn’t disappeared anywhere but was still right in front of him. His best friend Kyle was looking at him worriedly from the other side of the table.
“Aw, nothing... I was just thinking something.” Stan flipped the page, still displeased that his research material hadn’t changed to be any easier. “You know, now that we’re both eighteen, been a while, already... we get to marry and stuff.”
Kyle nodded, his look still more worried than anything. Stan shrugged. “I was just remembering something. You know... That one time in the pre-school, where we, uh, well...”
“Yes?” Kyle said with faked patience - he was famous for losing his temper easily, as Stan had to witness too many times. He hurried on:
“Well, we told everyone that we wanted to get married, because we thought that ‘getting married’ would mean living in the same house and staying together forever, or something like that, and then everyone called us homos.”
Kyle blinked; Stan had once again blabbered everything out so quickly that he had trouble concentrating on it all at once. Stan shrugged again, now embarrassed that he had brought up the memory at all. Kyle looked only mildly interested, shrugged as well and turned back to his history book.
While Kyle was focusing on his studies, Stan couldn’t concentrate at all. He kept tapping his pencil against the table until he decided to give up and closed his book.
“Do you remember that, Kyle?”
“Huh? Yeah, of course I do.” He smiled. “We were a bit... misinformed that time.”
“Yeah,” Stan laughed, but it was hollow. He was silent for minute, gulped and then continued: “But, you know, we practically are married right now...”
Kyle looked up from his book and furrowed his brows. “What do you mean?”
“Well, we live in the same apartment, share a car, sleep in the same room, buy food together... you know,” Stan stammered. Kyle’s look was unreadable, and Stan bravely continued, determined to say everything he had wanted to say for a long time: “And, you know, since we practically are married already, wouldn’t it make sense just to get married legally?”
There was a grave silence after that - Stan was staring at his feet, unable to look at Kyle, who was in turn looking at Stan thoughtfully. Finally Kyle closed his book and smiled at Stan.
“You’re asking me to marry you?”
“Ye-yeah... kinda.”
“‘Kinda’,” Kyle repeated, a smile playing on his lips. “Okay then.”
“Wh-what?”
“I do.”
Stan gaped at him, confused at first, but then his look melted into a smile. “You-you understand what I just... just said?”
“I think my answer can’t be interpreted in more than one way,” Kyle chuckled. “But only if you’ll be the bride.”
“What?” Stan hissed. “No way in hell! You can walk to the altar alone for all that I care, but I’m not going to-”
“I was just kidding, Stanley dear,” Kyle rolled his eyes. “It’s called sarcasm, you jerk. I was joking about the stereotypes of homosexual relationships in general and-”
“Kyle?”
“What?”
“Shut the hell up and kiss me.”
***
And it was as simple as that.
End.