Style (StanxKyle)

And it suddenly hits you—like perfume. - DJ at RX 93.1

Stan looks over the aisle. Nuts, nuts, nuts-Cinnamon? What?-nuts, nuts, nutty-nutnut. He skims through the items on the shelves, stopping when he finds said item. His eyes flicker to the price before finding a seemingly out–of-place pack of caramel cubes.

He's never really liked caramel because he was never fond of sweets, but now, anything related to caramel reminds Stan of Kyle. It's weird, Kyle's always been diabetic, so caramel's always been the redhead's something-like-an-enemy-but-not-really-because-it'll-always-be-Cartman, but ever since Kyle gave him a box of caramel cake for his mom that somehow ended up smelling like him, the notion of 'caramel = Kyle' has been imprinted on his brain.

He ends up buying a pack-no, two, because sweets never last in the fridge.

It is proven later, when Shelly looks for food because dinner starts at 6 and it's only 5:30.

"Fuck yeah, sugar candies!"

Stan grimaces and takes a bag from the fridge. "It's not all yours!" And, as an afterthought, he opens it and unwraps a cube before taking a bite.

Soon, the noirette finds a habit of eating caramel every now and then—or more. He doesn't quite realize it until his best friend does.

"Hey, Stan," Kyle looks thoughtfully at the wrapper Stan throws away, "since when did you start liking caramels so much? Or at all?"

Stan blinks, first at Kyle, then at the rest of the sugary goodness he feels in his pockets. "Um," he says intelligently.

"I thought you didn't like them."

Honestly, he thought so, too.

He becomes unsettled with how he buys a new pack when the two are finished, and one after that, one after that, one after that, and he realizes he may be, could be, possibly be obsessed with caramel.

Except he learns it's not really caramel when he thinks of caramel.

He curses.

This realization keeps him up later night; it is 1:34 when he looks at his watch. Somewhere up there, it clicks that Kyle usually falls asleep somewhere between 12:10 to 12:50, but he's already picked up the phone and is dialing Kyle's number.

"Rr—whut."

"Hey, darling."

"Wha', Stan? You woke me up."

"But, daaaah-lin'," he can't really roll his tongue, so he goes for the southern accent, "I miss you!"

Kyle, in his drunken sleep, laughs. And, just like that, they start talking and don't stop. Five minutes become twenty and half an hour becomes one and a half, and Stan hears his friend draw out a long, suffering yawn. It is 3:28.

"Well, cupcake," he says brightly, though he doesn't hide how tired he is—even if he's not really all that much, "you'll prolly kill me if you don't get no sleep t'night."

"Wha', no. Why'd I need to sleep an' all?"

Stan chuckles, and then it's silent again. He can hear Kyle's almost nonexistent breath on his end of the phone and he grips lightly on his. It's a lifetime until, "Hey, Kyle?'

"Myeah?"

A pause. A long one. He says, "…I love you," except it ends uncertain.

"'love you, too, Stanny." And then the Jew on the other end of the line puts his phone down.

After Stan mirrors the action, he's mostly immobile for ten minutes.

And then he stands up, because he's feeling for a caramel right now.

So after not updating for practically two months even though I already had things to write, I finally turn on MS Word for something other than school or saved fanfics 8D.

I-was-am amused at how, when I stayed one time in Marzmallow's house and practically implanted myself on her bed and my scent clung to it for a very long time. Which made her sleepy whenever she smells me. And she smells me whenever we hug-which is more or less daily 8D.

I didn't know how to write this down. There were so many possibilities with that semi-quote. And I feel like maybe I could've just written it as an independent oneshot-which would be a whole lot longer-but naaahhh, whatev, this is easier 8D.

And if you want to suggest any pairing or whatever, go ahead, I'm pretty okay with any pairing. Just know that I'm not actually familiar with a lot of characters, though SouthPark(dot)wikia is there for a reason…

Or better yet, a quote. I don't know a lot. I'm not too fond of actual quotes, you know, the ones you find in the internet. But, whatever, as long as they're personal and not oadoigbdosabfa kind of thing.

I miss getting reviews :(.