I am so excited about posting this for y'all. The music here is Rip Tide by Sick Puppies, Stand Up by Flobots, and I Don't Have by Nickelback.

PDA Chapter 2: I Don't Have

When Kyle reached the bus stop the next day, Cartman was pouting up a storm and holding his stomach and Stan was holding snow against a swelling, bruised-up right cheek. Before the redhead could say anything, do anything other than offer the pair a wide-eyed stare, Cartman smirked at him and grunted in an entirely too self-satisfied manner, "Took care of it."

Stan promptly flipped him off, fixing apologetic blue eyes on his boyfriend. "I'm sorry for trying to push you out of the closet." he grumbled, scowling at the redhead. Kyle merely blinked owlishly at him for a few moments before asking timidly, "Y-you okay?", cringing when the noirette's scowl deepened.

Stan's eyes softened at his meek disposition. He pinched the bridge of his nose with the hand he wasn't using to freeze his face off and sighed. "I shouldn't have been asking so much of you so soon and I should do more to respect your boundaries." he mumbled rehearsedly. The Jew glanced over at his rival, who was nodding approvingly, and shook his head.

"It's just..." Kyle struggled to explain, "I'm happy in the closet! I'm comfortable there. Life isn't too stressful. A-and I don't want to out myself two days into a relationship that I'm not sure is going to work out properly!" He frowned firmly up at his super-best, hands on his hips. Off to the side, Cartman coughed to hide a snort of laughter.

"So we'll give it some time." Stan conceded, clearly unhappy. After a semi-relaxed moment, though, he glanced out the corner of his eye at the little redhead and drawled, "Can I at least have a kiss?"

"Wh-what?" Kyle sputtered, shell-shocked, staring up at the noirette like he'd grown at extra head. Cartman seemed to be a similar state of shock, staring open-mouthed at the pair from the side. Stan smiled charmingly down at him, stepping a little closer and cooing, "C'mon. Just a little kiss."

The redhead glanced over at his rival, neither sure what to do. Cartman shrugged at him. He fixed his big green eyes back on his, uh, boyfriend, who rested his forearms on Kyle's shoulders and leaned down so he was eye level with him. "We're in public!" the younger of the two snapped the moment he found his voice, coloring farther than he already had when he noticed the apparent wobble in his tone.

Stan laughed lightly, leaning forward to brush their noses together softly. "Nobody's around, Ky..." he persuaded, delighting in the redhead's squirming. "C-Cartman's right th-there, dude..." he stuttered, eyes wide. Slowly, the noirette captured his jaw in a firm grip and tilted his face upwards, moving forward ever so slightly to just press their lips-

"Eep!" the redhead shrieked anxiously, simultaneously twisting out of Stan's hold to dart to hide behind a just-then arriving and very confused Kenny, who looked down at him for a couple seconds before raising his gaze to meet Stan's, a shit-eating grin stuck on his face.

Stan glared at the boy peeking out from under the grinning blond's arm, placing his hands on his hips and scowling at him whole-heartedly. Kyle cringed a little, explaining weakly, "You were making me nervous, dude..."

Kenny laughed -a loud, boisterous, infectious noise- and threw an arm around the redhead's shoulders, looking Stan -who'd turned his glare on the blond-in the eye and quipping in his typical smartass manner, "If you seriously want some fucking action, Marsh, you shouldn't keep dating prudes and feminists. You know how much alcohol I had to pump into this cute little lightweight to get him to make out with me?" he shook the blushing teen for emphasis, grinning maniacally at the memory of their eventful eighth grade dance night. Stan just rolled his eyes, having long ago accepted that Kenny was fucking weird and should rarely be taken seriously, especially if he happened to be smiling.

"The bus is coming anyway, you fags." Cartman scoffed, gesturing towards the great yellow deathtrap lurching around the corner, towards their bus stop. Kyle relaxed minutely and Stan shook his head, moving to board the rusting hunk of metal.

OoO

After clambering onto the bus and taking up their regular seats (as the oldest highschoolers -most of their grade walked or drove nowadays-, they had seniority and took up the two farthest back seats), Kyle took out his book, and, smiling shyly up at Stan, leaned against his boyfriend and started reading, while the noirette read over his shoulder lazily, figuring he may as well read at least a little of the book they were assigned. Kenny stared at them for several long moments, worry showing on his face for the first time. He turned around to ask his 'best friend' about it only to find that Cartman was a step ahead of him, watching the pair with an equal amount of worry tainting his usual indifference towards the people around him.

"Cartman..." Kenny sighed. "This is going to end in disaster unless somebody here does something."

The brunette nodded slowly. "Unless the goddamn hippie can learn to respect people's fucking boundaries, why yes, this is heading straight for the shitter."

Kenny's lips pulled down into a thoughtful scowl. After a moment, he muttered darkly, "Its just as much Kyle's fault. He needs to grow some goddamn balls, then everything would be fine."

Cartman groaned. "This is why friends shouldn't date." he lamented cynically. Kenny's expression faltered.

OoO

I don't understand why Kyle doesn't want anybody to know that we're dating. Is he ashamed of being gay? Of me? Is it because he doesn't really want to be with me? Or is it because there's someone else? What?

I stared sadly down at my pencil, my thoughts slowly turning more and more self-deprecating. I'm drowning in a sea of icy self hatred, I thought miserably, laying my head on my table. I was vaguely aware that I was relapsing into Goth but I was having difficulty caring. Wendy was casting me odd looks from across the classroom as well, which was even more distressing in a kind of weird way. She hadn't really bothered me in weeks. Why do the people I devote myself to delight in ripping my heart out and stomping on it like a burnt-out cigarette? Dig their heel into my soul to put out the flame that gives me a function? Leave me to rot on a busy city street?

Damn, I should bust out my poetry book...

I caught her gaze and held it, trying to flip her off with my eyes. I was too unmotivated to actually raise my hand to do so.

OoO

I went through the rest of the day just generally being depressive, probably worrying Kenny. He kept trying to talk to me but I neatly avoided him, sitting at different tables that normal and ignoring the notes he passed me as well as dodging him in the hallways, not to mention skipping lunch altogether. He probably wasn't even worried about me. He was probably just making sure I didn't kill myself for Kyle's sake or something equally conformist and ignorant. I mean, c'mon, someone actually caring? About me? Unthinkable. Psshaw, asshole.

Unfortunately, I was so wrapped up in avoiding Kenny that I completely airheaded avoiding other avoidance-worthy people... Like Wendy. Kyle was easy -I only had Gym and art with him, and those were both B-day classes (today was an A-day)- but I have Community Service club with Wendy during free period. Am I really such a worthless, useless excuse for a human being that I could actually forget something that painfully obvious?

Dammit, God, why do you hate me? What the fuck did I ever do to you? I went to church! I said my Hail Marys! I mentally demanded of my divine deity as the girl in question approached me, concern written all over her beautiful face. We were supposed to be discussing our next project today during our meeting, but since Wendy is the president I suppose she was ultimately the one who decided such things. Regardless, I was pretty much cornered. I knew it from the moment she sat at my table, right across from me.

"Stan," she started in a sympathetic tone. "This," she gestured towards me, probably referring to my bad mood, "Isn't about our break up last month, is it?"

I gave her a You-Are-So-Fucking-Stupid look and shook my head slowly, the vengeful part of me smirking contentedly at the way her face fell in disappointment. "It's not about me?" she asked in confusion, not necessarily being vain so much as realistically doubtful. My funks were usually caused by her, after all. Not any more.

"No, Wends..." I drawled, smirk widening, "It's not about you."

She blinked those beautiful blue eyes at me once, twice. Her eyelashes are so long, I remember thinking, feeling just the slightest bit sick to my stomach, but not nearly as nauseous as Kyle had been making me those last couple of months. At least I grew out of actually throwing up, even if it did make it harder to distinguish between attraction and an upset stomach.

"... Then what's it about?" she asked slowly. Slowly, I smirked at her. "Just some..." I paused, wanting to get the wording just right. I chuckled a little. "Just some, y'know... Girl troubles."

"So it is about me." she falsely corrected, a smile forming on her lips. Normally, this would be the the part where I admitted that it was about her and she asked me out and we lived happily ever after until next month when she would break up with me and I'd go Goth and so on and so forth. But Goddammit, this woman has shit in my poor, innocent little teenage-angst ridden heart more times than she has any kind of right to.

"No." I stated coolly, looking her straight in the eye. Shock overtook her face and I grinned at her. "It's not about you, Wendy."

Guilt struck me as her eyes welled with tears, but I tried not to let it show. I was so fucking tired of her using me...

Finally, though, the expected anger flared and she stood violently, turned on her heel and quite promptly left. And all I could think of was how intensely satisfying that entire little scene was. I grinned.

Before I could fully appreciate my little victory in getting over Wendy, though, Gary sat down in her seat and gave me a look. "'Girl troubles'?" he asked, a bit of amusement seeping into his tone.

I rolled my eyes, a shadow of a smile on my face. "He sure is acting like a girl." I muttered, watching the rest of the club file out, looking a bit lost without their fearless leader. Or a place that they're actually allowed to be.

"How do you mean?" the blond asked lightly, those creepily soul-searching, deep eyes boring into my own. I cringed a tiny bit, answering slowly, "He still doesn't want to tell people we're dating and Cartman made me promise to wait a while longer for him this morning. And he wouldn't let me kiss him, even when there was nobody else around!"

"You were alone?" he asked neutrally. I shrugged. "Cartman was there and we were outside, but there wasn't anybody else within eyeshot." I elaborated shortly, rolling my eyes to emphasize how ridiculous Kyle was being about all of this.

He rose his eyebrows at me. I couldn't help but feel a but judged. "Don't you think he probably has some serious issues with going public with this?"

I paused, looking at him, examining his expression. "What d'you mean?"

He sat back, his expression grave. "I'd bet my right hand that Kyle has a serious social phobia."

"... Social phobia?"

"Fear of public displays of affection."

I stared at him. He stared right back.

"Fear of... Fear of public displays of affection?"

"Yes. More than likely it stems from a deep seated fear of being judged. It would explain why he's so terribly reluctant to let the masses know about his sexual orientation and relationship status, among other things."

"... Well, fuck."

OoO

"Maybe you should call this whole thing off, Jew." Cartman murmured to the redhead beside him, not taking his eyes from the tattered pages of the school's copy of Homer's Epics: The Odyssey and The Iliad. Kyle cringed, glancing around his AP English class and sighing a little in relief upon realizing that everyone was gathered around one of the other tables gossiping. They were really all nothing more and nothing less than slightly overgrown little goldfish in a tiny fishtank.

Following his rival's example, he continued to pretend to read, murmuring back just as quietly, "I can't, fatass."

"Why the fuck not, Kahl?" Cartman demanded, glancing at the little redhead with flashing eyes, full of anger and frustration and worry. It almost made him feel bad to know he was worrying his rival so much that he decided to have this conversation in public. The teen squirmed uncomfortably, trying not to meet the brunette's gaze, and whispered uncertainly, "It's just... Something I have to do, dude. It feels right."

"Serendipity doesn't exist in real life, Jew. This isn't a fucking fairy tale." Cartman bit out bitterly, eyes hardening. Kyle was momentarily concerned that the flammable pages of the book would catch on fire from the sheer intensity of the teen's gaze, but of course, it did no such thing, though the Jew could've sworn it singed a little.

"This will work." he insisted instantly, sounding a just the littlest bit uncertain. Cartman merely shook his head, grumbling irritably, "When you shatter, Jew, I'm not cleaning it up."

"Yes you will." Kyle returned playfully, forcing a smile. A moment later, though, upon realizing the implication of his accusation, he added on, "Assuming that such an unlikely event occurs in the first place, of course."

"Assuming." Cartman echoed sarcastically.

OoO

"I simply will not stand for it, Bebe! I refuse to!" Wendy shrieked the moment they got back to the blond's house after school. Bebe cringed, leading the way up to her room and throwing her backpack to the ground, moving to take a seat on her pink and blue bedspread as she cautiously watched her enraged best friend pace agitatedly

"Stan is mine!" she insisted angrily, a furious blush blooming across her face, contorted in utmost rage. "He's been mine for eight fucking years, and some slutty bitch decides to dig her filthy claws into my goddamn man?" the noirette demanded, practically trembling with rage. "I will not stand for it! I won't, Bebe! I won't!"

"Well, maybe-" the calmer of the two tried to interject, only to be interrupted by a scream of frustration. "I'm going to kill her! I'll claw out her eyes and rip out her hair! We'll see how pretty she is then!" she stormed, "And then I'll kill him! I'll rip off his balls and put them back in my purse where they fucking belong!"

"Wends, don't you think-"

"I just don't believe he would do something like that to me! How dare he betray me like that, cheat on me!"

"Hold on now, didn't you-"

"It's just not fair, Bebe, it's not fair and I swear to god-"

"GODDAMMIT, WENDY, YOU BROKE UP WITH HIM!"

The girls stared at each other, absolutely shell-shocked, eyes wide and unblinking. Shakily, Bebe gulped and gathered her courage, pushing on determinedly, "You've discarded and used him on your own whim for half of his life, Wendy, that's not healthy! This other girl can't be anything but good news for him!"

The raven-haired young woman blinked several times. Finally, tears began to cascade down her pretty face and she sobbed openly, not even bothering to cover her face. Bebe jumped up onto her knees, gathering the crying teen into her arms and petting her long black locks, murmuring, "Shh... Shh... It'll be okay..."

OoO

"You all hate your children, they're too fat to feed. You're on medication, taking pills to sleep. I think, I'm doing just fine, compared to what you've been doing. I won't get vaccinated, insurance costs too much. You think you're so persuasive, but I'm not giving up. Saving, my life, that's not what you're doing. I, I-"

"What are you listening to?" Stan's voice interrupted my soft singing. I flinched a little in surprise, cutting myself off as I paused to let him listen to the chorus.

"Rip Tide by the Sick Puppies." I answered softly, turning it down. He shot me an odd look and I shrugged. "It's modern rock."

I could hear his clothes shuffling as he stepped around me, leaning up against my desk. "You don't listen to modern rock." he pointed out, sounding confused. I rolled my eyes. "Don't you think it's a little ridiculous that Nickelback is the youngest band we listen to?" I pointed out patiently, receiving the expected Are-You-Serious? look from him.

"Not really." he muttered defensively. "Classic rock is classic for a reason. The Beatles, Pink Floyd, The Who, Rolling Stones, Led Zeppelin, Eagles, AC/DC, Aerosmith, The Kinks, Blue Oyster Cult, Queen, Styx, KISS, The Police, Black Sabbath, Cheap Trick... It's the music we grew up listening to, dude!" he insisted. I frowned thoughtfully down at my hands as Porn Star Dancing by My Darkest Days began to play.

"No..." I murmured, "It's the music our dads grew up with." Stan shook his head slowly, lips parting to retort, but I cut him off. "C'mon, just give it a chance. Here, I think you'd like Flobots. Its this weird almost-rock rap band that does a lot of stuff concerning things like the world issues..." I clicked over to Stand Up.

Stand up, we shall not be moved, except by a child with no socks and shoes. If you've got more to give then you've got to prove, put your hands up and I'll copy you. Stand up, we shall not be moved, except by a woman dying from the loss of food. If you've got more to give then you've got to prove, put your hands up and I'll co-

"Dude." Stan muttered, shaking his head. "It's rap." He leaned over and, predictably, clicked over to Nickelback.

I don't live anymore

I don't love me this way

I don't have wings to fly

I don't have, gone away

I don't have anything

I don't need a space to breathe

I don't hide in sanctity

I don't need what you need

I don't have, have a space to...

"See now, this is music." he huffed, moving to sit on the bed. I snorted, turning the volume down even farther and swiveling around to face him, placing the side of my face in my hand. "I don't need what you need..." I echoed the song thoughtfully.

He offered me a crooked grin and I grinned back. "Sooo..." he drawled, as though not sure how to start the conversation. "How was school today?"

I shrugged. "It was alright, I guess."

A mildly awkward silence ensued. I cleared my throat harshly, feeling my cheeks heat up a bit, and returned after several tense seconds, "What about you?"

He blinked dazedly, obviously broken from his train of thought. "Ah, um... You know, I don't remember." he grinned inanely and I smiled back. I was already half-expecting the further silence that followed.

Why did it have to be so agonizingly awkward?

"Erm." I oh-so-eloquently broke the silence. Luckily, Stan saved me before I was forced to scramble for something to say.

"Look, Ky, I understand that you aren't comfortable with making this public." his sapphire gaze was fixed on his ratty converse, his hands twisting away at each other. "I'll admit that I'm not happy about it but I'll accept it. I suppose I was overlooking your comfort zones in the pursuit of my own happiness and for that I apologize. And while I do hope to one day let the public know about us, I'm willing to wait until you're ready before we take that step, Kyle, and I should have been ready to wait for you from the start."

OoO

Shocked silence followed my little speech, making me squirm. I bit my lip harshly and squeezed my eyes shut, prepared for some sort of harsh ridicule. All I heard, however, was a slow, steady slap and after a moment of listening to the odd noise I looked up in confusion, greeted by the sight of my best friend -boyfriend- clapping slowly, the proud smile on his face contrasting the surprise in his beautiful emerald eyes.

"Eloquently stated." he praised warmly but professionally, setting his hands in his lap. "I accept your sincere apology and extend an offer of forgiveness under the assumption that you will keep your word."

I glanced down at my feet, a blush blooming across my cheeks from his enthusiastic praise. "I hate it when you do the formal thing with me." I bit my lip, looking up at him through my bangs. His stiff and upright posture relaxed and he rolled his eyes, and when he spoke, it was casual, thank god. "Whatever dude."

I laughed a little, pulling my knees up to my chest, hesitant to ask my next question. "Um." I muttered uncertainly. "Ky?"

He immediately paused, fixing all of his attention on me as though he could sense that it was serious. "Yeah?"

"Would you let me take you on a date if I took you someplace like, Iono, Denver? Because no-one would know us there and you wouldn't have to be nervous and-" I cut my rambling short, my cheeks practically lighting on fire. Vaguely, I wondered what happened to the confidence I had earlier. Grow some balls, man! I scolded myself during the tense silence that followed my proposition. My heart was beating so ridiculously fast...

"I'm paying." he replied shortly, staring up at the ceiling with a bright blush splashed across his cheeks. I blinked, a bright smile growing on my face.

"Is that a yes?"

"No."

"What?"

"Kidding."

OoO

Kenny smiled down at his old, beat-up, pre-flip-phone era cell, genuinely pleased for his two friends. He quickly punched in a response, the loud, repetitive clicks emanating from the ancient keys gaining the attention of the brunette beside him.

"Who you textin', po'boy?" Cartman grunted, looking up from his book. Kenny peeked at the title, raising a brow upon finding Heart Song. "Kyle has a date with Stan." he replied, voice clear for once without his obnoxious orange hood.

The larger teen's brow wrinkled suddenly and he turned to his blond companion, setting his book down. "Who's paying?"

Kenny's phone blared an irritating three-note number and he glanced down, clicking the view button. "Kyle, but Stan isn't happy about it." he answered slowly as he read, glancing up at the younger teen. "Dude, what the fuck are you reading?"

"The second book in V.C. Andrews Logan Family series." he responded mechanically, reopening it. "It's really good, po'boy, I think you'd like it."

Kenny snorted, laying down on his side and placing his head hesitantly on his friend's thigh, waiting for a reaction. Cartman gave him a look but didn't comment, shifting slightly and going back to his reading quite contently.

After a few long moments, the immortal whispered quietly, insecurely, "What if it doesn't work out between them?"

Cartman continued to stare at his book but his eyes didn't move, the faraway dark orbs staring beyond the pages. "Our entire group dynamic would be destroyed." he answered after several long moments. "But those dumbass fags are stubborn as goddamn mules. If they can do all that they already have and retain their sanity, they'll make this butt-buddy thing work, no problem."

"I don't know, dude. Maybe it's their stubbornness that will tear them apart." Kenny muttered doubtfully, recalling that it was only that morning that he'd last had this terrifying little argument with his best friend. Cartman rolled his eyes. "The hippie stuck to the ho for years, letting her repeatedly rape his freaking heart. I doubt that the Jew being shy of all goddamn things is going to make him give up."

"What if Kyle gives up?"

Cartman considered this for a moment. "Stan won't let him give up just like that, po'boy, he's a stubborn asshole."

Somewhat comforted, Kenny stopped to mule this over. "Are we falling behind?" he asked after a small silence.

"Hm?"

"Dude, Kyle has a date."

"... Oh fuck."

OoO

A certain blond Mormon laid flat on his back, spread eagle on his bed, staring at the ceiling. "I bought you some time, Broflovski." he whispered to himself. "Use it well. He won't wait forever..."

He glanced over at his nightstand, where several photographs and a copy of the Book of Mormon sat. Situated among the frames filled with photos of his family -siblings, parents, aunt, uncles, cousins- was a single unframed photo depicting a smirking, wild looking teenage boy, his dyed black hair spiked wildly, his lip pierced not once or twice but three times, a tattoo just barely visible on his neck. A smile curved the teen's lips, but it was sad.

"Won't wait forever..."

He removed his phone from his pocket, absently dialing a familiar number. He laid the phone on his cheek, listening to it ring, brightening when the telltale click told him someone had picked up.

"Hullo?"

"I miss you." the blond almost whispered.

"Gary! What's up, are you okay?" Devon demanded worriedly. He hadn't been expecting a call this early in the day.

"Yeah. Just..."

"Hm?"

"Nothing."

OoO

I must say I adore Gary. I decided to give him a little side-plot there and it might come up every now and then but I'll try not to give it a lot of room unless you guys want me to. And yes, Devon's an OC, sorry. I'll also try not to focus on the hints of Kenric in there unless you want me to. I'm going to try to keep up with the Jewish calender in this and if I have any Jewish readers, I'd really appreciate your help, just shoot me a PM. Anyway! I'm starting to get a feel for the story, for which I'm grateful, so... I'll work hard on updating soon, I promise.

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