Kyle breaks his arm trying to prove himself, it's a good thing his boyfriend's here to help.

Characters: Stanley Marsh, Kyle Broflovski, Sheila Broflovski

Takes place before the Dysfunctional series. Stan and Kyle are 14 in this.

When Kyle Broke His Arm

"You know, I could just get it for you."

"I don't need you to."

Kyle was precariously perched on his knees on the kitchen counter-top as he tried to reach the hot chocolate that was on the top shelf. His boyfriend Stan was leaning against the doorframe, looking worriedly at the Jewish teen.

"Dude," Stan pinched the bridge of his nose, "Get down, you'll hurt yourself."

"I'll be fine," Kyle retorted as he opened the cabinet, leaning back so he could see where he was reaching.

Rather predictably, Kyle fell and landed heavily on his right arm with a sickening crunch. He yelped and stayed on his side as Stan rushed over to him.

"I was going to say 'I told you so'," Stan said as he knelt down beside the whining Kyle, "But that sounded like it hurt."

"Fuck," Kyle whimpered, he hissed when Stan held his affected arm to sit him up, "I think it's broken."

"You're probably exaggerating, but I'll go and get your mom," Stan sighed as he stood, Kyle's arm laid in the Jew's lap.

After explaining what happened and hearing the usual 'What what WHAT!' Stan was helping Kyle into the backseat of his mother's car.

"Why didn't I listen to you?" Kyle said as Stan held his arm in place as well as he could.

"Because you always let your feelings get in the way of your judgement."

"What are you talking about?"

"Kyle, you're my boy…best friend," He was about to say 'boyfriend' before realising Sheila was in the car, luckily he caught himself, "I know you better than you think."

"Okay, but seriously, what do you mean about my feelings?"

"You feel that your height is an obstacle, so you try to overcome it instead of asking for help."

Kyle was silent as he considered this.

"He who asks is a fool for five minutes, he who doesn't ask is a fool for life."

Kyle was about reply when they hit a speed bump, causing him to swear loudly.

The bone needed to be set and Sheila couldn't even be in the same room, she knew what it meant. Stan was sitting beside the bed Kyle was laid on.

"This is going to hurt," The doctor warned him.

Stan took Kyle's hand, "Think of this like a woman giving birth."

"Thanks for the comparison," Kyle rolled his eyes.

Sheila had been down the other end of the corridor, and she said that she had been able to hear Kyle's scream from down there.

He was quieter on the way home, now sporting a lime-green cast over his arm. Stan had remarked that it matched his ushanka when he chose it.

"Thanks for coming with me dude," Kyle said as Stan helped him into bed, groggy from the painkillers Sheila had made the doctors give him.

"You know that I'll do it again if you need me to," Stan replied, wanting so badly to jump him right there, like they had started doing a few weeks ago. He wouldn't feel right doing it whilst Kyle wasn't in the right frame of mind and he didn't want to hurt his arm any more than it was.

"Can you stay and cuddle me for a bit?" Kyle asked, sounding slightly shy. Kyle always wanted to be independent, but if he was sick or injured, he was the exact opposite, always wanting other people to do everything for him. Stan was the only one who would indulge him.

Stan climbed into bed with him and held him close, being careful so he didn't hurt Kyle's arm, he kissed his boyfriend's forehead and Kyle made a little, content noise.

"I can't stay for long," Stan said, he honestly couldn't, he had homework to do.

"Please stay," Kyle whined, his emerald eyes looking pleadingly at Stan.

"Okay then, you'll need someone to carry your books anyway."

He could do the homework before first period.

"Love you," Kyle mumbled, turning on the TV he had in his room.

"I love you too," Stan said, pulling off Kyle's ushanka and nuzzling his hair.

They lay together for a while in silence, watching some crappy movie on Netflix. Kyle fell asleep across Stan's chest, Stan probably could have left, but he didn't want to go without telling Kyle.

Stan got a ride to school from Sheila so that he could help Kyle carry his books. Stan slung Kyle's bag over his shoulder and walked with him into school and to his locker.

"What class do you have first?" Stan asked.

"AP Biology, the only AP class you have," Kyle replied.

"Shit, I forgot to do the homework."

"Why aren't I surprised?"

"Don't be like that, I was going to do it last night and I had football practice the night before, I haven't had time to do it."

"Why didn't you do it when I fell asleep?" Kyle asked sternly as Stan took the required book out his locker for him, "You could have gone straight home."

"I didn't want to leave you while you were hurt," Stan mumbled, casting his eyes down to his shoes and blushing, "I wanted to be there in case you needed something."

Kyle leaned up to kiss his cheek, giving Stan a rush. Kyle was never normally so bold.

"You're too nice," Kyle's tone softened, "I'll talk to Mr. Alexander and get him to let you get away with it this once."

"It's a good thing he likes you," Stan said as he carried the books to the Biology labs, "If I was to tell him he'd give me detention."

"He wouldn't dare give the star quarterback detention," Kyle grinned, "He's scared of the coach."

Mr. Alexander did let Stan off and made him work with Kyle because he couldn't write, Sheila had written a note that she got signed by Sharon to allow Stan to leave lessons early to help Kyle. At the end of the day Stan was exhausted because he was constantly moving between lessons to help Kyle as well as being put through his paces in PE. He was having difficulty keeping his eyes open when they were cuddled together on Kyle's bed.

"I'm taking in my laptop tomorrow," Kyle was content with the position he was in.

"Why?" Stan asked.

"Because I can't write with my left hand, it looks like I'm three again."

Stan chuckled, "At least you can look up the answers on Google."

They were quiet for a while and Stan's eyes started to droop.

"If you want to sleep, you can," Kyle said as he ran his uninjured hand through Stan's hair.

"It's strange," Stan said drowsily against Kyle's neck as he nuzzled him, "Having to keep my hands off you so I don't hurt you more."

"As soon as I'm able," Kyle smirked, "I'm going to give you the ride of your life."

Stan grinned as he pulled Kyle into a kiss, "I can't wait."

"I'm sorry," Kyle said, "I should have listened to you, now we can't have sex."

"It's okay," Stan said, tightening his hold around Kyle's waist, "Sex isn't the most important part of our relationship. We waited a year to do it the first time, I can wait again."

"I'm still sorry," Kyle whispered.

"I don't care," Stan smiled, kissing Kyle gently, "It doesn't matter to me as long as I'm with you."

"You're sweet," Kyle grinned.

"Only for you."

Kyle felt a small sense of elation after hear what Stan had to say, if Stan was willing to put up with his fuck-ups, then it was only fair that Kyle gave him the relationship he deserved.