Want, Need, Love, Take

Want.

It was burning him from the inside out.

Never in his life had Stan Marsh wanted anything more than the newest addition to South Park. He'd felt a fluttering in his heart and an unsteady swirling in his stomach for Wendy Testaburger; this detail was evident without a doubt and was, in fact, a well known fact amongst not only his friends but also just about every kid he attended school with. Vomit also frequented this small crush, so it was hard to imagine what could happen to little Stan Marsh when he stopped liking and started desiring.

It was the new kid. From the moment he saw Gary Harrison, Stan felt decidedly uncomfortable. He brushed it off as the same distaste his friends held for the Mormon kid, but perhaps they sensed this – Cartman in particular. Despite being an obese, racist, annoying, and cruel kid, Eric Cartman was incredibly perceptive of his peers and often new how to twist them into doing what he wanted. It was difficult to know exactly what it was that he wanted, however, until his entire plan unraveled, but rarely was it that Stan got involved.

"Go kick his ass, Stan."

As soon as he said it, everyone cheered him on, until Stan concurred. And yet, walking forward, knowing that there wasn't something right about this, but he did it anyway, falling into peer pressure as he so often did. When the new kid spoke, Stan felt it for the first time. The first flutter of his heart that so matched the way he felt with Wendy. And the new kid continued to talk, pale lips moving delicately against each other, but more importantly, the content of those words were what made Stan's heart pound against his ribcage. He forced down the feeling to puke and agreed to go over to the new kid's house that night for dinner.

Need.

Stan wasn't one to avoid people. While he didn't initiate, however, he refused to confront, and that was exactly what happened with Gary Harrison. Their friendship had concluded with harsh words and less than peaceful thoughts. But still, Stan felt the urge to release his stomach contents onto the cold dry snow before him at the thought of the Mormon boy's soft, well groomed blonde hair and those pale lips that had spoken such accepting and understanding words before. His stomach fluttered with something that teetered past desire, venturing further into the depths of love.

Cartman eyed him suspiciously the day that they graduated elementary school with their year books and Stan's eyes lingered over Gary's photograph, his fingers rubbing against the page with an unsure softness. The fat boy had this look of recognition in his face when Stan Marsh puked on the school-bus aisle, the same exact expression that he'd adorned when Nicole moved to South Park and Eric had ideas firmly planted in his mind. At the time, Stan was paying more attention to the fact that he'd lost his lunch, as opposed to Cartman's weird mentalities.

"...Pussy." Eric sneered, and Stan returned the sentiment with a nasty yet sickly glare.

Summer that year was an utter pain; the Harrisons had joined his parents book club, and every time they visited, somewhere it was mentioned to him that the Marshs and Harrisons were friends again, and in addition to the parents' forgiven relationship, the children should follow. Stan vomited every single time, before holing himself up in his room. Even his friends noted this distinct change, and Kyle worried nervously that he'd return to being 'Raven'. Stan assured him that this would not happen. Despite that, he didn't leave his room as often as he normally would have, and it was more than clear that something was not right. Even if Stan himself didn't want to admit what it was.

Love.

It happened the first day of freshman year at their high school. When Stan found that classroom, devoid of Cartman and Kyle, he figuratively clung to Kenny, relying on the other boy as his only friend in that new environment. Kenny seemed to be just as scared as him, especially considering how he was significantly less social. But when Stan and Kenny walked into that classroom, and looked for familiar faces, and his eyes met Gary Harrison's, he vomited all over the nearest desk. This, of course, left an awful first impression on both his teacher as well as his peers.

As the year continued on, Stan felt himself growing more and more ill, and even though it was a slow process of torment, all his friends began to take serious concern. All except for Eric Cartman, of course, and while it was assumed that this was because he was just a heartless prick, it was truly because he knew something that they didn't. Perhaps it was the 'heartless prick' part that amounted to him keeping his mouth shut, though.

It was the day that he entered his home and on the table was a set of board games. The television was off, leaving the home with an eerie silence. Stan entered, and in the kitchen, he found his parents watching brownies bake in the oven while talking softly. Shelly had long since moved to college, so her absence was understood. What wasn't, however, was why everything was so quiet.

"Stan, I have good news! We're Mormons again!" His dad had exclaimed, unexpecting of his son's horrified expression to follow. Along with the puke.

Stan wasn't one to feign sickness. He was never very happy to go to school, but he endured it. Not sophmore year. He stayed home and hardly left bed or consumed food. He slept and laid in bed quietly, room softly playing muffled music as he ignored his parents' frequent arguments and club meetings. When Kenny came to give him his homework, very few words were exchanged, and Stan felt himself withering away. It was happening before, but it was never so prominent up until this point.

Take.

The rain poured heavily outside of the window, slapping the glass. Thunder and lightning clashed. Stan laid in bed and watched the shadows dance along the ceiling; their intricate movements didn't entertain him, but they were something to occupy his mind. Slowly, his face turned to face the window, watching as the liquid sky fell, and he felt a sudden urge to leave bed. It overwhelmed him, and he responded without hesitation. He ran downstairs, only bothering to put on his shoes and hat as he left for a walk.

Stan closed his eyes as his face turned to face the clouds, wanting it to drown him. He wanted it to melt him. He wanted it to burn him, to devour him, to freeze him, to destroy him.

"God dammit!" He practically screamed into the evening as he jumped, a puddle splashing around him. His clothes were drenched.

Stan fell into a clustered mess as the water sloshed over his body and he sobbed like he never had before. Without warning, the crashing of water halted. For a moment, Stan stayed still, wondering if the rain had stopped. It hadn't; it was very distinctly still falling to the pavement around him. He looked up, only to see a large green umbrella covering him, and it's wielder being none other than Gary Harrison. Stan stared up at him, and Gary crouched down so that they were face to face. Dimly, Stan registered that Gary's pants were soaked from this behavior.

Gary leaned in, nose centimeters from Stan's own, and even in the freezing rain he felt warm and breathless. "You're going to catch a cold," he whispered, and Stan only responded with a flutter of his eyes.

Gary took him by the hand; Stan's was shaking and damp, whereas Gary's was steady and dry, and Stan followed in a trance until Gary led him back to his home. The moment the door closed behind them, Stan snapped.

"Gary-" he gasped as he pulled the other boy in by the back of his brilliant yellow hair, smashing their lips together.

Their teeth clashed, and surprisingly enough, Gary immediately responded. He wrapped his arms around Stan's neck and forced him against the door, pressing their bodies as close as they could go. The two pairs of wet clothes mixed as Stan and Gary groaned and cried, forcing themselves upon each other with passionate want, need, and love. Their clothes were discarded in moments, both of them sliding to the floor and rubbing against each other possessively.

"Gary, oh God, Gary..." Stan whimpered. "Please, I can't... Please-"

"Shhhh..." Gary hushed him affectionately, using his lips to silence him as he released Stan from his fingers. "Just tell me if you want me to stop, okay?"

"Never stop." Stan breathed. "Never."

Gary sent him a sad smile, before plunging into his lover with both gentility as well as power, only causing Stan to scream and sigh. It didn't matter to him how long it lasted, but as their pent up passion left them, Stan felt a warmth he'd never before felt pool into his stomach, and he knew that the most recent section of suffering he'd endured in his life was closing.

"Gary..." He said quietly as the other boy toweled him off.

"Yes, Stan?" He responded in a chipper voice, smile etched into his skin as he got to work on putting their clothes into a dryer.

Stan only stared at him, and although no dialogue transpired, it was not needed. Gary sent him a knowing glance and answered his question with a chaste kiss on the lips.

Somewhere, far away, Eric Cartman was watching a live video feed, hands pressed together, tears in his eyes. "Oh my God, so cute..."