Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Kyle wasn’t a fan of field trips, which was probably why he currently wasn’t in the best of moods. Half of the time, they went to the same three places in town, filled out the same boring worksheets and went through the same boring tours. They would pack themselves on the same bus that brought them to school, drive barely twenty minutes, and then another twenty on the way back, only to have the school day end almost right away, and they would be on their way home. It was always so pointless. Kyle felt like those days were used whenever their teachers couldn’t think of anything else to do.

This current field trip was different from the rest right from the start, which was a nice change of pace. The seventh-grade class of South Park Middle School was going to Dr. Mephesto’s lab, as a part of their biology unit in science class. While Kyle and the gang had been to the lab multiple times as children, it was never for a school sanctioned event.

They did get a new worksheet to fill out, though, but only Kyle seemed to find somewhat exciting, given the reaction his friends had to the material.

“Dude, we haven’t even gone over this shit in class,” Stan complained as they passed downtown, heading closer to the mountains, “Like, how the hell am I supposed to know the difference between a cation and an anion.”

All field trips, this one included meant that he would get more time to sit next to Stan, so they weren’t really that bad. They would always sit next to each other on the bus, even after Stan moved further out of town, so the prolonged ride didn’t bother him in that aspect. Sometimes, they would share headphones, and take turns showing off their playlists, while the other times were filled with shit talking their parents. It wasn’t private time by any means, with anyone able to overhear and join in if they cared enough, but no one ever did.

“It was in the homework from last night, Stan,” Kyle rolled his eyes, smiling. He figured Stan hadn’t done any reading for the class since the start of the semester, so it was to be expected. “It’s easy to remember, though. Cat-ions are paw-sitive.” He flicked his wrist, pawing at Stan’s arm to drive his point home, which made his super best friend laugh as he tried to push him away.

“That’s fucking gay,” Cartman insulted, pushing himself so he was resting on the top of their seat. Stan’s laughing stopped and Kyle turned to glare in his direction. He had forgotten that he was sitting behind the two of them and was almost impressed that it had taken so long for him to insult him.

Another reason for Kyle’s dislike of field trips, the additional time on the bus meant he had to suffer over an hour of getting egged into arguments with Cartman. No matter where he sat on the bus, he would somehow get pulled into some stupid conversation, or get insulted from several rows back.

“Well if that’s what you think, then you can fill out the worksheet on your own,” Kyle shrugged, flipping his paper over in his lap, hiding the answers he had written down at the start of the drive.

Cartman’s face fell in panic. “What?! You can’t leave me hanging, I don’t know any of this shit! It’s not like I can cheat off Kenny, he doesn’t know anything either!”

Beside him, Kenny’s orange parka came into few as the boy sat up in the seat. “Fuck you, dude!” He cursed, voice muffled by the hood of his jacket like always.

“Oh, so do you know any of the answers?”

There was a beat before Kenny huffed, sinking back into the seat, and muttering to himself. Cartman smirked, as if that would somehow change Kyle’s mind.

“I’m still not gonna help you, dude.”

Cartman sputtered, trying to form some kind of thinly veiled threat, “But I- you fuck- I’m gonna- Gah! You damn fucking jew!” He yelled as he lowered himself back on the seat.

“Boo! Get better material!” Stan heckled, smiling in Kyle’s direction. His heart fluttered, and he quickly looked away. He didn’t need Stan defending him, especially since he could handle Cartman on his own most of the time, but it was still sweet that he cared enough to try. The comment did earn them a kick to the chair, which wasn’t any worse than the bumping of the bus as they got closer to the lab.

“So, uh, cations are positive, then anions are negative?” Stan asked, writing down his answer on the sheet in his blocky, messy, handwriting.

“Yeah, kind of a process of elimination thing,” Kyle shuffled closer to look at his other answers, “Remembering cat puns is easier than remembering just the facts.”

“Fair enough,” Stan sighed, and leaned back, “Is this even biology, dude? How is this even relevant to the fucking trip?”

“I think they’re just prepping us for chemistry. Maybe they think if we learn to hate it now, we’ll be more neutral on the topic in high school.” Kyle reasoned.

“Well, it’s gonna be stupid both times,” Stan grumbled. He looked back over at Kyle and smiled again. Kyle was about to ask if there was something on his face, when Stan leaned over and poked at a loose curl that had fallen from Kyle’s hat with the eraser end of his pencil. “Think your hair’s getting a little long, dude.”

Kyle swatted his pencil away, face flushed, and adjusted his hat, shoving his hair back in. “Not my fault my hair grows fast, asshole. Also, that’s real rich coming from you.”

Stan took off his own hat, running his hand through his hair as he frowned. “It’s not that long.” It really wasn’t, but it wasn’t as short as it had been when they were kids, more of a shag cut that was just barely long enough to cover the top of his ears. Stan seemed to be the only one who didn’t realize that.

“It’s not short either,” Kyle did one final tug on his hat, ensuring everything would stay put this time, “Maybe we could get haircuts together.”

“Now that does sound gay, dude,” Stan chuckled, shoving Kyle’s arm playfully. Kyle smile weakly, his stomach tightening in anxiety.

He knew that was just how they talked, and that Kyle had said something similar numerous times to him, but it was still weird. Not always, honestly more since the start of last year did it feel weird. But he didn’t want that to change his friendship with any of the guys.

Well, he could stand to lose Cartman.

They spent the rest of the drive finishing up the worksheet, ignoring Cartman’s continuous cries for help the closer they got. Dr. Mephesto’s lab hadn’t really changed much from when they were kids, other than looking even more run down than before. The class was led on a personalized tour by the doctor himself, taking them through the areas where he kept his several “successful” attempts at genetic modification. All the different animals with multiple butts looked just as sad as Kyle remembered.

It was the newer room that really piqued his interest.

Dr. Mephesto described the area as the ‘work in progress station’ where he kept any machines that had potential, but just needed to work out the kinks. There was the broken-down cloning machine (Kyle didn’t even want to ask what kind of thing could have smashed it that badly), a few unfinished spires that ranged weather control to some kind of town hivemind (more questions Kyle didn’t want to ask), but it was the invention front and center that really caught his attention.

It was a tall coil, nearly sixteen feet tall, the entire structure surrounded by a spherical cage, resting on an elevated platform covered in control panels. On the floor, about five feet from the base, there was a harsh red line with the word “CAUTION” in all caps written on it. The class was stopped in their tracks before they could even attempt to cross it.

“This was based off an idea from a physicist down in Oregon,” Mephesto explained, gesturing up at the device, “A bit different from my normal work in genetic modification. It can create a static shock enough to cause electrons to swap atoms, and at full power, could possibly allow beings on a similar wave-length frequencies to swap thoughts.”

“Fucking bullshit,” Cartman grumbled under his breath, shoving his head in-between Stan and Kyle, “How are those two things even related?”

“Shut up, fatass!” Kyle shoved his head back, keeping his voice low as to not interrupt.

“-but unfortunately, I wasn’t able to get a hold of the scientist who patented the idea, so I’ve decided to hold off testing any of the frequencies for the time being.” The doctor had gone on with his lecture, and Kyle hoped he hadn’t missed anything too important.

He looked over at the coil, watching as small blips of light appeared around the top. The tiniest bit of static the machine had without power. It reminded Kyle of those plasma, lightning balls that were on those infomercials back in the day. He was sure he had gotten one as a birthday gifts, but it was probably lost to storage now.

“Now class,” Mr. Garrison stepped up from the crowd, turning to the students with the same level of interest he always had during these trips, “I’m going to give you all some time to look around. Those who haven’t finished can work of the worksheets. We’ll be moving on to the next part of the tour in five minutes. If you need me, I’ll be taking a smoke break.”

Kyle frowned as their homeroom teacher (both confusing and surprising that the man had followed the class up to middle school) headed towards the double doors they had come from, leaving everybody to their own devices. The class spread out into smaller groups, each consulting one another as they finished out their worksheets. Kyle and Stan stayed put in front of the machine, now able to read the plaque on the front which read “The Electron Swap and Transfer Device”. Not entirely creative, but it helped explain its purpose with relative ease. Stan looked up at it, then back down to his worksheet.

“Is that why there’s that cat-anion question? Are electrons and anions supposed to be the same?” He asked, titling his head to the side as he looked back up.

“Maybe?” Kyle shrugged and took a step forward, making sure to stop right at the red warning line. “Think that might be the next chapter.”

“Oh shit, there’s actually a question you don’t know the answer to?” Stan joked, taking a step up to join Kyle at the line, and propping his elbow on Kyle’s shoulder, which the red head quickly shoved off, laughing.

“Shut up, dude,” he smiled at Stan, “I’m not some walking encyclopedia.”

“Could have had me fooled,” Stan winked. Kyle’s heart squeezed, and he quickly turned away, his grip on his pencil tightening as he forced himself to smile normally. Why did Stan have to keep doing shit like that? Super sappy shit that was almost flirting, but it was just how he and Stan talked so it sounded completely normal.

Kenny and Cartman joined them at that point, flanking the pair as they looked from the plaque to the coil. They were being oddly quiet, which Kyle should have taken as a warning sign that they were about to do something stupid, but he was too busy avoiding eye contact with Stan to really pay attention.

The next series of events Kyle knew he could have prevented if not for his stupid ass pining over Stan Marsh.

“I bet you ten bucks you can’t climb that thing, Cartman,” Kenny’s muffled voice brought Stan and Kyle to attention, both turning to their friend in relative horror.

“Oh, you’re so fucking on dude!” Cartman cheered, instantly booking it towards the machine before anyone could reach out. Kyle’s eyes widened in panic as Cartman stepped over the line and started climbing up the control panels, while all he could do was awkwardly stand there, unsure of where to move.

“Cartman, dude, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Stan warned, looking around for Mr. Garrison or Dr. Mephesto. Most of the class had already cleared the room, the few stranglers didn’t even spare a glance back at them as they headed towards the double doors. Neither adult was in sight.

“What’s the big-“ Cartman’s foot slipped on one of the levers as he struggled to grab hold of the cage that surrounded the coil, his gloved hands slipping through the holds in the chain link. Unfortunately, he didn’t fall, but he still wasn’t giving up. “Oh, son of a bitch! What’s the big deal, Marsh?”

“You’re gonna get us in trouble, fatass, get down!” Kyle scolded, now inching closer to the edge of the line.

“Ten bucks is ten bucks, Kyle, fuck off!” He grabbed for another gap in the cage, somehow managing to lift himself off the control panel. Cartman was clearly struggling with keeping himself up, his feet kicking as he tried to find a place to put them. But in watching him try to find a foot hold, Kyle noticed the control panel, which had been dark previously, was now lit up, numbers flashing on the nearest panel. That fucker must have turned that damn thing on!

“Cartman, seriously, get down!” Kyle took a breath and stepped over the line, ready to pull him down if necessary. In his peripheral, he saw Stan follow suit, still looking around for someone.

“The fuck is that?” Kenny asked, pointing up towards the top of the coil, a sudden panic in his voice. Kyle’s eyes followed his hand, and he felt his stomach drop. The flashing static that he had seen before was much larger, much more frequent, and slowly working its way further down the coil. As it zapped, Kyle could hear the charged electricity that came with it.

“Dude, seriously, you’re gonna get hurt,” Kyle walked up to the panel looking up and down from Cartman to the controls, seeing if he understood any of it enough to maybe stop the charge from reaching him.

“The only way you’re getting me down is if you can pull me off, jew!” Cartman yelled, attempting to kick Kyle in the face with his free hanging feet. It was easy to dodge, but upon hearing Cartman’s threat, he grabbed a hold of his leg and started to pull him down. Cartman yelped at the sudden force, the cage shaking as he adjusted his grip.

“Kyle!” Stan yelled, rushing up to help, Kenny following.

“Get off of me!” Cartman went back to kicking, his leg getting harder for Kyle to hold onto, “I’m getting my ten bucks, you assholes!”

Kyle saw a flash of orange as Kenny rushed around, trying to grab a hold of his other leg. Stan finally was able to get a grip, his shoulder brushing against Kyle’s as they both pulled Cartman closer to the red caution line. He could see Cartman losing his grip, but by the time Kenny finally got a hold of him, it was too late.

None of them had seen how far the static lightning had gotten, they were more focused on getting their friend off machine. It all happened so fast. Kenny had just caught Cartman’s kicking foot when there was a bright flash of white light, and Kyle felt a shock run through his body. The last thing Kyle processed was them all screaming, before he collapsed on the floor, everything going dark.

He didn’t know how much time had passed when he started to come to. His body ached with a weird numbing feeling, like when his leg would fall asleep. The florescent lights above him were blinding as he tried to open his eyes. He groaned at his first attempt to move, the numbing feeling fading at a snail’s pace. His throat felt scratchy, his voice sounding deeper than normal. God, that thing really fucked him up.

After a beat, he tried moving again, sitting himself up, and blinking hard to adjust to the lights. The Electron Swap machine had powered down, as evident by the controls panels which were now dark. There weren’t any windows to see how late it was, but no one in class was still around, which meant they were gonna get yelled at by Garrison later. Kyle saw Cartman, lying face down in front of him, and felt his blood boil. That fucker.

Kyle’s brain felt like it was on some kind of delay, his whole body feeling sluggish and exhausted. It wasn’t until he sat up did the feeling- or rather lack of feeling- dawn on him. His breathing wasn’t being constricted. There wasn’t that normal tension of compression on his chest.

He scowled, bringing a hand to his chest, and smoothing it down to his stomach. Flat. The only thing catching his hand was the fabric of his jacket. He looked down, half thinking the area might still be numb or something, but what he saw threw him for even more of a loop.

He wasn’t wearing his jacket, but rather Stan’s. As well as his gloves, pants, even his shoes.

Were his friends fucking with him or something?

He brought his hand up to his head and was met with more surprises. He didn’t feel the normal flaps of his own hat, but rather the brim of a beanie of some kind, but it was his hair that really sent him reeling. Even through the gloves, he knew it was a different texture. Straight, a little stiff, but definitely not his normal untamable curls.

“What the hell?” Kyle murmured, grabbing at his throat as he heard the noise that came out. Now that definitely wasn’t his own voice. He knew whose voice that was. He had known that voice for all his life. Despite the recent drop due to puberty, he still knew that voice.

That was Stan’s voice.

And he was wearing Stan’s clothes.

There was a certain level of deny that Kyle could keep up before he could admit there was something fishy going on. But even then… that couldn’t be right? Maybe it was some convoluted dream, or a hallucination from the shock.

His eyes darted around the room, but he didn’t need to look too far before he found what he was dreading. Kyle had to stifle a scream as his eyes landed on it.

His own body, lying passed out next to him.

Cartman started to stir as Kyle brought a hand to his mouth in an attempt to muffle the noise. Upon just seeing him move, Kyle’s rage boiled back up, and before he could really think, he scrambled to his feet, and stumbled over to him.

“Well that was a shitty way to die,” Cartman grumbled, not taking notice as Kyle got closer, only realizing once he had grabbed him by the collar of his jacket. He picked him up with more ease than normal and shoved him against the cage. Was Stan really that much stronger than him? God, fucking focus, Broflovski!

“Woah, okay!” Cartman yelped, grabbing at Kyle’s hands to get him off.

“You just don’t know when to quit, do you?!” he asked, looking for any sense of forgiveness in his friend’s face. Instead, he was met with confusion.

“Quit… what?” He sounded groggy, like how Kyle had felt only moments ago. “What are you talking about, Stan?”

Well, there was no denying it now. Panic started to build in his stomach as he tried to ignore every intrusive thought that ran through his mind.

He was in Stan’s body. He was in his crush’s body. This field trip couldn't get any worse.

“I’m not Stan, fatass, that’s what!” he yelled. The shock in Cartman’s face didn’t bring him any satisfaction, but when it faded to a confused scowl, Kyle felt his anger start to steep out.

“Why’d you call me…” Cartman’s voice trailed off, as his eyes drifted to behind Kyle. He didn’t know where his eyes had landed on, but he spotted something behind him that made his face pale. “Oh shit,” he looked back at Kyle, “Kyle?”

He scowled when he heard his name. Mostly because it wasn’t how Cartman always said his name.

Oh god, he was being an idiot. He wouldn’t have been the only one that switched. As it dawned on him, he let go of whoever was in Cartman’s body, quickly trying to deduce who it might be. It wasn’t Stan, because he didn’t freak out upon seeing himself, so that left-

“Kenny?”

Kenny felt around Cartman’s face, looking down at the red jacket and gloves, and frowned. “You have got to be shitting me, dude.”

Kyle shook his head in disbelief. He wanted to still think this was some fucked up dream, but he felt more awake with each passing moment. And Kenny’s reaction wasn’t helping him think this was some hallucination.

“This is bad, this really bad,” he muttered to himself, looking between his own passed out body, and Kenny’s. Both scenarios of who would wake up in his body sacred the shit out of him. Either one of them knowing the truth about him was going to make everything about this so much worse.

“At least you’re not Cartman,” Kenny complained, flexing his fingers, “God, before you even said anything I thought that everything sounded louder, but I don't know, guess figured my hood was down or something.”

The more he talked, the more it became clear that it wasn’t Cartman. Something about the cadence of his voice changed, and while Kyle wouldn’t say that he sounded more like Kenny, he sounded a lot less like Cartman.

“You have no right to complain!” Kyle snapped, “It’s your fault we’re in the goddamn mess!”

“My fault? I didn’t think he’d turn the fucking thing on!” Kenny deflected, gesturing widely. “You’re the one who wanted to pull him off, so if anything, it’s your fault!”

Kyle rolled his eyes. Shifting the blame wasn’t going to do anything other than pissing him off more. “God, we’re gonna get into so much trouble for this. What the fuck are we gonna tell Garrison?”

“You honestly think he’s gonna believe this?” Kenny gestured to their bodies.

“I don’t fucking know! All I know is Mephesto didn’t mention this in his fucking monologue about this thing, so who knows how we’re gonna get back- “

Whoever was in Kenny’s body groaned in pain, interrupting Kyle’s spiel. Both boys turned instantly, neither sure what quite to do. Kyle waited for some kind of sign, some indication of who it might be. He didn’t want to get all pissed off again only for it to be Stan.

Kenny, however, didn’t see the need to wait, and walked over, crouching down to meet whoever it was at eye level.

“Son of a bitch,” Kyle could barely make out the words muffled behind the hood of the parka. Whoever it was frowned, and fumbled to take off the hood, gasping for a breath once it was removed. It was odd to see all of Kenny’s face, his blond hair ruffled and sitting in odd angles due to how it was always constricted. “The hell?”

“You get used to it,” Kenny spoke, quickly getting the attention of whoever it was.

“Cartman? The fuck did you-“ He scowled, reaching for his throat, “What’s up with my voice?”

Kyle’s stomach dropped. Stan. But… no no no no no no, that meant that-

“Unfortunately, I’m not Cartman,” Kenny stood up, stepping aside so that Stan could see Kyle, who was still stood frozen in front of him.

Stan eyes followed Kenny up, slowly making their way towards Kyle. He screamed when he saw him.

“Oh my god! What the fuck! Is it another fucking clone?!?” He started to hyperventilate as he shuffled backwards in terror.

Kyle snapped out of his funk, rushing forward, “No no, dude, it’s just me. It’s Kyle. Calm down.”

His eyes widened, and he stopped scrambling, looking him up and down. “Kyle?” Kyle smiled and nodded, offering a hand. Stan took it, looking confused as he noticed the different outfit he was wearing. “What the fuck is going on?”

“Looks like we got Freaky Friday-ed,” Kenny joked, “Kyle’s in your body, you’re in mine, and I’m stuck in Cartman.”

Stan scowled. “Kenny?” He looked back at Kyle, still shaking his head slightly. “God this is so fucked. I thought none of this stuff was supposed to work?”

“The way he put it, I think Mephesto just hadn’t gotten around to testing it,” Kyle rationed, “Guess that make us test subjects one through four.”

“That doesn’t make me feel any better, dude.”

Kyle scowled, about to go on about how he was just stating facts and that he was also pissed off, when the sound of his own voice sent a chill down his spine.

“Oh god, that was a fucking bitch.”

Both Stan and Kenny went pale, looking past Kyle to where his body was. They both had connected the pieces, much like Kyle had, but acknowledging it, whether out loud or even as a thought, terrified Kyle down to his very core. Because if Kyle, Stan, and Kenny were all accounted for, then that left only one of them left. The one person Kyle dreaded the most to be stuck in his body. The one person that would make it his life’s goal to fuck him over.

Cartman.

Kyle didn’t want to turn around. He didn’t want to face him. But he didn’t really have much of a choice. He took in a deep breath and turned to face himself. Cartman didn’t seem to have realized what had happened yet. He was sitting up, rubbing his eyes as he adjusted to the light of the room.

“God, I feel like I was run over by a truck, Jesus Christ,” he grumbled, finally looking up at Kyle and Stan. “What are you two staring at?”

Kyle bit back a scream. It was his voice, sure, but the way he talked, the only thing that was different from Cartman’s normal voice was the pitch. He was gonna be sick.

“Cartman?” Stan asked, taking a step past Kyle.

“What’d you got your hood off for, Kenny?” He scowled judgmentally, then shifting to confusion. “The fuck is wrong with my voice?”

“Cartman, I’m gonna need to you to stay calm for this,” Stan continued, approaching slowly like Cartman was a wild animal, “But… I’m not Kenny.”

He rolled his eyes. “Ha ha, very funny, Kenny, but I’m not falling for it,” He crossed his arms, “You can’t trick me into believing…” His got caught in his throat as he looked past Stan, eyes landing on Kenny, who waved smugly. Cartman’s eyes widened in terror, quickly looking between the three of them. Kyle saw the exact moment in his eyes where Cartman realized what was going on, a brief and stubble change before he looked down at himself. He shook his head furiously as he grabbed at Kyle’s jacket, working his way up until he reached his hat, moving it back to reveal Kyle’s bright red curls. Cartman’s face turned stark white.

“Oh god, oh god, no, no no, this can’t be happening!” he wailed, dragging his hands down Kyle’s face, “This isn’t real, I’m just dreaming! This is just a nightmare!”

“Cartman, it’s real,” Kyle spat, “And it’s your fucking fault.”

He looked up at Kyle, eyes brimmed with tears. “You’re a fucking liar, Stan! Or whoever the fuck you are!” he screamed. “I haven’t done anything to deserve this torture!” He dropped down, now on his hands and knees, and clearly shaking. “I’ve become what I hate the most! A ginger, a jew, from Jersey…” His voice trailed off, whining as he held back tears. It was pathetic enough in his own body, but it became even more grating in Kyle's.

“Oh Jesus, stop being a fucking baby,” Kyle groaned, “You’ve got no one to blame but yourself, Cartman!”

His head snapped back up, his eyes now filled with rage. “No! It’s fucking Kyle’s fault! He was the one pawing at me like some perv!”

“I was trying to save your ass!” Kyle argued, “You should have let go when we told you to!”

“You probably wanted this to happen to me! Force me to live as an abomination to nature!”

“Oh, trust me, this is the last thing I wanted to happen!” The only things holding back Kyle at this point was the fear that he would bruise his own face and Stan, who had grabbed his arm at some point. Stan... oh god how he wished it had been Stan stuck in his body. Stan, who he could explain everything to, without fear of major social repercussions. Stan, who knew Kyle better than anyone, and had put up with him for so many years.

But with Cartman, Kyle was on edge the entire conversation, waiting for the other shoe to drop, waiting for Cartman to figure it out.

Once he got his bearings, once he calmed down and settled in Kyle’s body, he would no doubt feel the binder that Kyle was wearing when they had swapped. Sure, he might not know what exactly it was, but there was bound to be some smartass comment. He would realize there was something else missing, something that Kyle was currently trying not to think too hard about because Stan is his best friend and thinking about your best friend’s dick in this situation felt incredibly creepy.

It was only a matter of time before Cartman realized that Kyle is trans, and everything he had worked so fucking hard for would get washed down the drain.

To say that Kyle was scared shitless would have been an understatement.

Chapter Text

There wasn’t a whole lot the others could do to convince Eric that he hadn’t died and gone to hell. It was the only reasonable answer in his eyes. Why else would he be forced to live out his days as Kyle fucking Broflovski?

As he sat on the floor of Dr. Mephesto’s lab, he tried to think back to where it all had gone wrong. He surely couldn’t be blamed for taking on Kenny’s bet (ten dollars was a fucking steal for what he asked of Eric), and the damn machine had turned on by some miracle of God. Well, it had turned on after Kyle had crossed the caution line, but Eric wasn’t going to point fingers. Expect this clearly was his fault.

The damn jew has had it out for him for too damn long, and probably hoped this was his one chance to get rid of him once and for all. As some sort of consolation prize, he got to be stuck in his super boyfriend, sorry sorry, best friend’s body. There was no other logical explanation.

The least the guy could do was apologize, or at least chill the fuck out. He had never seen Stan- rather his body- look so tense, his eyes constantly darting over to Eric. It was fucking annoying. Kyle should be over the fucking moon, getting to up close and personal with the boy he's been pining for since grade school. Instead, he looked like he was two seconds from dropping dead.

Unfortunately, Eric had far more pressing questions for Kyle. First and foremost, why he thought it necessary to wear some kind of, like, compression tank top underneath his shirt? It was clearly causing more pain than help him look more… yeah, no, that was his second question, what was the end goal in wearing shit like this? The material was the fucking worse and it made breathing harder?

It only added to his theory that Kyle had planned this from the very beginning. He had known this was going to happen and so he was determined to make the act of being in his body worse than it was to begin with. It was fucking genius; he was kind of jealous he hadn’t thought about it first.

“Cartman, are you done sulking?” Hearing his own voice broke him from his thoughts, and he looked up to the others. It was like some kind of uncanny valley video game, looking up at his own face. Nothing like looking at your reflection or the front facing camera view. He wondered if that had anything to do with Kenny, who had the pleasure to get to walk around in his skin, and his facial expressions being different than how Eric’s. Maybe that was why he looked so pissed off.

“I’m not sulking!” he argued. God, Kyle’s voice was somehow worse inside his head, like nails on a damn chalkboard. “I’m putting the evidence together, because you’re not getting away with this, Kyle!”

Kyle groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Jesus Christ.”

“Can you please get past that, dude?” Stan asked. “We don’t have fucking hours to settle this. If Garrison notices we’re missing, we’re gonna get detention for sure.”

“Oh yeah when can get past it, when Kyle admits he’s fucking guilty!”

“That’s it!” Kyle snapped and started to launch himself towards Eric. Thankfully, Stan was standing in between the two, and caught Kyle before he could even throw a punch, Kenny quickly joining in to pull Kyle away.

“See!” Eric pointed at him accusingly, “He must be guilty! Why else would he need to resort to violence?!”

“Don’t tempt me to join him,” Kenny grumbled. God, was he always so angry under that fucking hood? He wasn’t sure he had seen his own face do anything but scowl since he had awoken into this nightmare.

“Ay! I’m not getting my ass beat by myself, alright?” He brought himself to his feet, stumbling slightly as was fully standing. At least the breathing was slightly easier (didn’t fully answer his questions though) but now there was a new problem. He wasn’t sure how he hadn’t noticed while he was sitting down, but now that he was standing it dawned on him.

Either Kyle had a fucking micro-penis, or he just didn’t have a dick at all. Whatever was going down there was fucked up, and it kind of stopped Eric in his tracks.

Kyle’s reaction only helped to add to his now series of questions for him. “Yeah, yeah, okay, fine. It’s my fucking fault,” Kyle shook Kenny and Stan off him with relative ease, both shocked with the sudden change in attitude, “Whatever gets us out of here faster so we can fix… this.”

There was an underlying sense of panic in Kyle’s voice that set off a light bulb in Eric’s head. His shift to take the blame was a way to ensure that he kept his mouth shut, which meant whatever Kyle was trying to hide was something not even his super best friend Stan knew.

Perhaps there were some upsides to this, Eric thought as he bit back a smirk. Best to not give away this upper hand so early on.

“Okay, but how are we gonna do that?” Kenny asked, “Mephesto didn’t sound like he really knew how to work this thing, and it might take us hours to figure out what buttons Cartman hit that resulted in this.”

Eric opened his mouth to retort that he didn’t hit any buttons, but Stan quickly responded, beating him to the punch.

“There’s no way in hell we can tell Mephesto,” he said, “If he finds out we messed with his shit we’re gonna end up in a fuck-ton of trouble.”

“Not to mention, he might not even have the solution,” Kyle finished Stan’s thought process seamlessly, “Let’s just keep it under wraps for now. It might not even last long enough for it to matter.”

The second the words left Kyle’s mouth, Eric could feel that not a single one of them believed it. Knowing their luck, they would be lucky to switch back, period. The thought made him nauseous.

“That might have to be all we can do for now,” Stan agreed, “But, I feel like we’re gonna run into some problems with keeping it under wraps, dude.” His and Kyle’s eyes darted to Eric without a second of hesitation.

“Okay, rude,” he scoffed, “I take extreme offensive to this implication that I can’t do a decent Kyle impression.”

“That fact that you have one worries me,” Stan scowled.

“You have such little faith in me,” Eric clasped his hands together, swooning in Stan’s direction as he made his voice sound sweet, “~Ooo, I’m Kyle, and love my best friend and not believing in Jesus~ “

“That’s exactly why we’re worried, Cartman,” Kyle wasn’t the slightly bit amused, glaring daggers. Eric dropped his hands to flip him off as Kenny stepped in-between them.

“Let’s just have a ground rule not to totally fuck up each other’s lives to the best of our ability, alright?” Kenny asked, “Just as a bare fucking minimum.”

Stan and Kyle agreed almost instantly, nodding in support which left only Eric. They all turned to him, waiting for his response. He groaned and rolled his eyes, “Fine, whatever makes you fucking hippies get off my ass.”

The trio gave a unified sigh of relief and made their way to the exit, Eric a few paces behind. As he walked, the weird undershirt thing that Kyle had on shifted uncomfortably, and he had to stop a few times to try and adjust. God, what the fuck was it pushing up on that made it such a bitch?

Given he was a little preoccupied, he almost didn’t notice Kyle, who pulled him aside before they made it to the doors. He didn’t even look at Eric, only getting close so that only he would hear, as Stan and Kenny looked for their class from the windows of the double doors.

“We’re not done talking,” Kyle’s hand was gripped so hard on his shoulder, Eric thought he might break skin. His quiet voice sent a chill down his spine, and the lack of eye contact didn’t help. Eric was so used to teasing and insulting Kyle, his usually reaction of anger was to be expected. Heck, seeing how worked up Kyle would get was usually satisfying enough for him.

There were few times when he was this serious.

The last thing he wanted Kyle to think was that Eric was scared of him, so he shot back, quiet enough that neither Stan nor Kenny could hear, “Must be a pretty big thing you’re hiding, huh Kyle?”

Kyle looked down at him with a cold, dead stare, making Eric briefly consider that might not have been the right response. Normally, he was taller than Kyle, so picking fights (physical or verbal) meant he usually had some upper hand. But Stan was taller than Kyle, and Eric knew that if Stan wasn’t such a pacifist that he would beat his ass easily. But Kyle wasn’t exactly a pacifist, and any physical fight wouldn’t be in Eric's favor.

“Coast is clear!” Kenny called out, motioning for him, Stan, and Kyle to leave. Eric couldn’t be happier to leave the room, shoving Kyle’s hand off him and speeding walking towards the double doors. He passed by Stan, who had been stopped by Kenny before leaving, who made sure he didn’t leave without putting that goddamn hood up.

Thankfully, Kenny had been right, and Garrison was nowhere to be spotted. Mephesto was at the front of the crowd of students, not even looking in their direction, so they managed to sneak into the back without too much hassle. While none of their classmates seemed to notice their return, the one person who did was the one person they were trying to avoid.

“Where the hell have the four of you been?” The sound of Garrison’s voice caused them all to jump, turning around in sync to face him. He was posted by the doors they had just come through, arms crossed. He seemed irritated, must not have been able to go on that smoke break.

None of them answered, all looking at each other, hoping someone would take the first step. Of course, none of them did, the fucking cowards. Sure, Eric didn’t answer either, but he had gone through a lot of traumatic things today, he shouldn’t have to be put on the spot like this. Improv was fucking stupid.

“Well?” Garrison took a step closer to them, “No one saw where y’all ran off to during the break. Were you getting into one of your little schemes again?”

“We weren’t getting into anything!” Kyle burst out in a panicked tone. Figures he would be the first to break. Eric bite back a smirk.

“Oh? Then what, Stan?”

“We, uh, we were just,” his face paled, and he looked between the four of them before his eyes finally landed on Eric. That fucker, hadn’t he already done enough?! “Kyle was helping us finish up our worksheets. He’s all done with his.”

Garrison raised an eyebrow. “Oh really? You expect me to believe you didn’t mess with anything?”

Kyle’s face fell, swallowing hard as he tried to come up with some cover story. Thankfully, Kenny must have prepared some sort of idea while Kyle was lying his ass off, and he stepped forward.

“Nothing in that room fucking worked anyway. You can go check, everything’s off and shut down,” he explained, the casualness in his tone definitely helped support the lie. A classic move Eric would use, even if Kenny’s impression of him could use some work. Regardless, Garrison seemed to believe him.

“Oh, I’m not going back in there, that place gives me the creeps,” he shuddered as he glanced back at the double doors the boys had just walked through, “Just don’t get lost again, or it’s my ass on the line if one of you gets cloned on accident.” They all let out a sigh of relief as Garrison made his way to the front of the class.

“Do you think that we should be worried about that accidental cloning thing?”  Stan asked, voice muffled by the parka. He seemed uncomfortable with it, and started adjusting the hood around his face after he spoke.

“I feel like that’s the least of our worries right now, dude,” Kenny shook his head as they moved closer to the group as they wandered the new part of the lab.

With every breath, Eric half expected someone to turn around and point out how off they all were acting. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, Stan had been right. He didn’t really know how to act as Kyle. But it wasn’t like he was alone in that. Both Stan and Kenny just looked uncomfortable standing amongst the crowd. Kenny stood somewhat of a chance, given he hung out with Eric more than the others, but Stan? He was always too busy making heart eyes at Kyle to notice anyone else. Now, Kyle should be good at this, but he was still fucking pissed at Eric for just being stuck in his body that he couldn’t act like Stan to save his life.

Thankfully, the next stop on their tour was just around the hallway, and Eric could see the buses from the tall glass windows. They were so close to ending this nightmare. But, because the next stop was so close, Kyle took this as the perfect moment to grab Eric by the collar of his jacket (well it was really Kyle’s dumb fucking jacket, but Kyle didn’t seem to care, with how he was being man-handled) and dragged him to the nearby bathroom. Kenny and Stan stayed behind, unaware of Eric’s unwitting kidnapping as they were too fixated on the tour ahead. Those bastards!

Kyle basically threw Eric into the bathroom, closing the door and locking it as he hit the stall wall with a loud thud.

“The fuck is your problem, Kyle?!” Eric exclaimed, rubbing the arm that had taken most of the blow, “Are you trying to break your own body? Because holy shit, that’s gonna bruise!”

“Oh, shut up!” Kyle snapped, crossing his arms, “Look, I don’t want to be here right now, dude. I know you think you’re being funny, or you actually think that you’re the victim here, but I just need you to shut up and listen to me for a fucking minute, alright?!”

Eric scowled. Think he’s the victim? He is the fucking victim! “I’m not just gonna sit here and have you give me some goddamn speech! You’re gonna explain what the fuck is going on with your body!”

“Cartman,” Kyle dragged a hand down his face, “That’s what I’m trying to- “

“Like, why the hell are you wearing an undershirt that makes your breathing worse? Are you fucking stupid?!” Eric interrupted, “Also, whatever you’ve got going on downstairs in fucked up, Kyle.”

“Cartman- “

“Is that why you’ve always got a stick up your ass? Trying to compensate for your lame excuse for a dick?”

Kyle froze, like a deer in headlights, but he didn’t look embarrassed. He looked… scared. Not quite the reaction Eric had been expecting, which threw off he anger. Kyle’s hands tightened into fists at his side, his eyes dropping to the floor.

“I don’t- have one.”

Eric blinked. “So, they do cut it off when you get circumcised?”

“No, you fucking fatass!! I wasn’t born with one, alright!?” Kyle was red in the face now, eyes brimmed with tears, “I’m trans, Cartman! I want to- I mean, I just wasn’t born- oh, Jesus fucking Christ, I don’t want to explain this shit to you! I didn’t even want you to know!”

It didn’t quite hit him right away, just how much Kyle was revealing to Eric, not until that last line. Kyle wasn’t born a guy. He had been lying to Eric, Kenny, and- most importantly- Stan for years, for most of their lives. Eric couldn’t help but smirk as Kyle rambled off. Perhaps this nightmare had some upsides.

“Wow, Kyle,” He breathed out, shaking his head slightly, “You know, I wouldn’t have pegged you as a tr-“ His sentence got interrupted as Kyle launched himself at Eric, slapping a hand over his mouth and pinning him back up against the stall wall.

“Don’t fucking call me that.” Kyle’s glare burned into Eric’s soul, causing his heart rate to increase.  “Not while you’re me. Not ever. Got it?”

Eric couldn’t help but laugh, the sound muffled by Kyle’s hand. Kyle didn’t break his stare but loosened his grip enough for Eric to free an arm and move the hand from his face. “You’re making a lot of fucking demands for someone who’s got a lot to hide.”

The switch of Kyle’s expression from angry to terrified would have given him whiplash if he hadn’t been expecting that exact reaction. “You wouldn’t…” his voice was meek at first, clearly recovering from shock, but he gained his composure quickly after, shoving Eric once again, “We promised not to fuck around until we change back.”

“That doesn’t mean I can’t tell the others,” Eric grinned maliciously, loving every second he could piss off Kyle, “I mean, you’ve deceived us for years, Kyle. I’m sure Kenny and your precious Stan would love to know the truth about you.”

He could feel Kyle trembling, which only gave him more reason to dig a little deeper.

“Speaking of Stan,” he reached out with his free hand to mess with the collar of Stan’s jacket, fiddling with the fabric between his fingers, “I’m sure this is fun for you, huh? Getting to act out your little fantasies without him knowing?”

Kyle’s face turned red, and he pushed himself away, shoving his face into his hands as he tried to dampen his scream. “SHUT UP! I don’t like Stan like… Just stop being a perverted little creep!”

“Oh well,” Eric sighed wistfully, “Guess if you don’t wanna talk, I’ll just go tell everyone your dirty little secret.” He took one step forward, mostly just as a test, which Kyle passed with flying colors as he whipped around the second his foot made contact with the floor.

“What do you want?” He spat.

Game set match, Kyle.

“You know,” He tapped his chin in thought, “I haven’t quite decided yet.” Eric could practically hear Kyle grinding his teeth. “Let’s say, until I’ve made up my mind… three favors.”

“No!” Kyle shook his head, “That’s too damn much. You get one.”

Eric rolled his eyes, “Two or I tell them the second we leave.”

Seeing the physical struggle in Kyle as he contemplated whether Eric was bullshitting made everything about this stupid body swap worth it. This was unlike any other blackmail that he’s ever had over Kyle before. This was far more life ruining, a power he’d only experienced once or twice. His mind was running with ideas of how he could make Kyle’s life as miserable as possible, to make up for the misery being in his body is.

“Fucking hell,” Kyle grumbled after a beat, “Fine. Two. You happy?”

“As happy as I can be while having to be you,” Eric walked forward and patted Kyle on the shoulder smugly.

Their arrival back with the group wasn’t met with any crazy reaction, only getting an odd look from Kenny as they joined them back up. Eric looked back at Kyle, whose attention was solely focused back on Mephesto, then at Kenny and shrugged.

By the time the class was sent back to the buses, the four of them had calmed down significantly. Kyle- to be expected- was still on edge, but he wasn’t as outwardly angry. The only time he seemed “out of character” for Stan was as they were loading up the bus, going back to their seats. Kyle gave one look at Eric, scowled, and moved to the seat behind him.

Kenny seemed unsure who he should sit next to, looking between him and Kyle with a panicked expression. Bebe yelled about keeping the line moving, which spooked him enough to finally pick a seat, sliding in next to Kyle after shoot an apologetic glance at Eric. Stan, with no other choice, slummed down next to Eric. He opened the hood slightly, and turned to Eric, eyebrows upturned in concern.

“How do I tell Kenny I think I’m gonna suffocate in this thing?” he asked. Eric had to bite back a harsh laugh, knowing full well that would give him away more than anything.

“Uhm, you don’t?” he offered with a shrug, “Or you just tell him? How the hell should I know?”

Stan shook his head, “I just don’t want to sound like a dick.” He frowned. “Maybe I shouldn’t have asked you.”

“Ay!”

Their seat got kicked as Kyle hopped up to the top of the seat. “If you’re not gonna sound like me, then keep your fucking voice down!” He whisper-yelled. Eric just flipped him off, which Stan quickly tried to slap away as more of their classmates filed down the aisle of the bus.

After that, they really refrained from conversation amongst each other during both the ride back to school, and the drive to their bus stop. There really wasn’t much to say, and anything they could say would be heard by those around them. It wasn’t until they were getting close to their stop, that Kenny broke the silence, after propping himself up on the back Eric and Stan’s seat.

“So, if this is Freaky Friday, I call being the Jamie Lee Curtis.”

Maybe it was because of how unprompted the whole phrase was, or because they hadn’t been talking during the whole ride, but Eric had never been so utterly confused in his life. Him and Stan turned to him in unison.

“The fuck, dude?” Stan asked, raising an eyebrow.

“You know, the early 2000’s version? She’s the fucking best,” he smiled, “And if what’s going on here is like that, then I wanna be her part.”

“Like, the mom character? Or when Lindsey Lohan’s character is in her body?” Kyle asked, not even bothering to bring himself into view. Eric could only imagine the confused look on his face.

Kenny furrowed his brow in thought briefly, before answering, “The latter.”

“You better not fucking dare pierce my ears during this thing, because I will kill you,” Eric warned.

“Eh, weak threat coming from you,” Kenny winked, his response only confusing Stan further.

“What is that supposed to mean?” he asked, looking up towards Kenny, who patted on the head sweetly.

“Don’t stress about it, Marsh.” Stan’s eyes widened, taking the exact opposite advice Kenny had given him as Kenny himself shrunk back down to the seat. For some reason, this was what set Kyle off as the bus stop came into view.

“It’s not gonna be anything like that fucking movie,” he brought himself up, now in Eric’s view as he leaned against the window, “Because this,” he gestured to the group, “Was a failed science experiment, and that movie it was some magic spell or something.”

“Are you saying you don’t want to solve this with the power of understanding one another?” Eric asked sarcastically, fake pouting and batting his eyes. Kyle rolled his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“If only that would work,” he grumbled, causing Stan to laugh as the bus came to a stop. The four of them filed out as Kyle continued, “We can joke as much as we want, but it’s not gonna get us any further. We have to think logically about this.”

“I was using old media as a reference, seems logical enough to me,” Kenny pointed out once they all were outside of the bus.

“Yes, dude, because magic is always the most logically answer to our problems- we’re not playing stick of truth anymore!” Kyle exclaimed, “This is real fucking life, so we need to find a real fucking answer.”

They all stood in silence as the bus drove away. Eric couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but there was something… off about it. Body-swapping aside, the four of them standing there felt familiar, but also…

“Uh, Kyle?” Stan asked, looking off in the direction the bus went.

“What, dude?”

“This isn’t my stop.”

“Yeah, so?”

Stan frowned. “So, that means this isn’t your stop, dude.”

Kyle’s eyes widened, like he forgotten whose body he was in, then he scowled and yelled, “SON OF A BITCH!”

Eric laughed, ignoring the pointed stares of the rest of the group. “Oh wow, you love hearing the sound of Stan’s voice that much you forgot you were him?” he teased, which did cause Kenny to break, quickly biting his lip after letting out a chuckle.

Both Stan and Kyle turned bright pink, Stan even turning around to avoid eye contact. Honestly, the two of them were so oblivious, it was a miracle Kenny and Eric were able to live through it.

“I was deep in thought, fatass!” Kyle growled, not evening noticing that Stan was also embarrassed by the call out. Seriously, what was wrong with them? But Kyle’s reaction did give him another idea. He stopped laughing, taking a moment to composes himself before he turned to Kyle.

“You can’t call me that anymore,” he smirked, gesturing down to Kyle’s body, “Since I’m you.” He paused, stroking his chin in fake-thought, “Unless you’re working through issues about your own self-image-“

“Oh, this is getting ridiculous!” Kyle exclaimed, “By that logic we get to make fun of you for being Jewish!”

“Ay! I’m not-“ he quickly stopped himself, realizing just what he had walked into. His scowl quickly faded.

“Damn, you just played yourself,” Kenny scoffed, shaking his head.

“Shut up, Kenny!”

“You’re the one who brought it up, don’t get mad at me because you didn’t think it all the way through!”

Eric stood there, seething in anger, but Kenny did have a point. Guess as Kyle, he wasn’t ever going to get the upper hand… well, aside from the current favors he was now owed. But he couldn’t cash those in now. No no, he was going to hold onto those for as long as he needed to.

“Just call my mom or something, she can pick you up dude,” Stan must have recovered from the implication that Kyle liked the sound of his own voice and was now standing next to him, supportive hand on Kyle’s shoulder.

“From the bus stop? She won’t think that’s weird?” Kyle asked, taking the phone out of his pocket.

Stan frowned, “Yeah, that’s a good point. I would say you could come with me, but I never really go to Kenny’s house.”

“Same with Cartman’s,” Kenny added in, “Guess that leaves…” All eyes feel on Eric, who was frankly still upset about losing the prior argument.

“Do you think you can last that long without killing him?” Stan asked, grimacing.

“Don’t I get a say in this?” Eric asked.

“You lost the privileges ages ago,” Kyle grumbled, crossing his arms before he turned back to Stan, “I think I’ll last.”

It wasn’t until Kyle was leading himself and Eric down the path to his house did Eric realize he hadn’t been the Broflovski residence in quite a while. Not since elementary school, at least. Usually, they all would hang out at his house, mostly because of the space in the basement. There were a few times they would hang at Stan’s after the move, but it was more of a hassle. Kenny knew better than to host at his place (the last time Eric could remember, they all got chicken pox), but he didn’t seem to mind.

Maybe it had something to do with the whole trans thing. Not like Kyle was going to tell him. He was giving Eric the silent treatment since they left the bus stop.

He didn’t even acknowledge him until they reached the house. Kyle went to grab his house key from his pocket, quickly realizing he didn’t have them on him. He turned to Eric and took a step back, motioning toward the door.

“Guess you could do the honors,” he grumbled, Eric rolled his eyes and took a step forward, but was stopped by Kyle, “Don’t be a dick to my mom.”

“Jesus, you have a fucking rule book for your life or something?” Eric asked, annoyed. Really, Kyle seemed so concerned for someone who shoved his own body into a locker hours ago.

“I’ve seen how you treat your own mom, sorry if I don’t think my mom would take it half as well as she does,” Kyle scowled.

“Okay, whatever,” he shoved Kyle off him, and went to unlock the door.

He couldn’t even get a word about before the nasally voice of Sheila Broflovski echoed into the living room. “Kyle? Is that you?”

“Uh, yeah…” he answered, turning to Kyle to gauge how good his impression of him was going, “Ma?”

Kyle sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Eric shrugged defensively. That was how Kyle talked to his mom, what the fuck was he getting worked up about? Kyle took a breath before gesturing to himself.

“Oh, right,” he muttered before calling back to Kyle’s mom, “Stan’s here too.”

“Stanley?” Sheila appeared from the kitchen, leaning into the frame of the entry way into the kitchen. “You know you can’t have sleepovers on school nights, Kyle.”

Eric bit tongue, his first thought being that of course Stan coming over was a common occurrence that she would have to bring that up. Thankfully, Kyle was getting better at responding as Stan, and stepped further into the house.

“I needed some help with homework, and…” he gave a quick glance towards Eric, “Kyle said he’d help.” His own name sounded weird as Kyle said it, but Sheila didn’t pay it any mind. She sighed knowingly.

“Alright then, are you planning on staying for dinner, then?” She asked, giving “Stan” a kind smile.

“Probably not,” Kyle answered quickly, grabbing Eric’s arm, and dragging him to the stairs, “Let’s get to work, Kyle.”

“You two better be getting homework done and not goofing off up there!” Sheila warned as they lost sight of her. God, maybe it was a good thing Eric didn’t come over more often. He really forgot how much of a bitch she could be, constantly breathing down the boys’ necks to make sure they weren’t getting to trouble.

It wasn’t until they were upstairs that Kyle let go of Eric, marching toward his room. On their way, they passed by Ike’s room, Kyle’s younger brother walking out towards the hallway to see what the commotion was about. He looked first towards Eric, then to Kyle.

“What are you two doing?” He asked in a bored tone, leaning on his door frame.

“None of your business, Ike, back off,” Kyle responded before continuing towards his room. Ike seemed a bit shocked by the reaction, and turned to Eric, scowling.

“You two need to stop hanging out, he’s starting to act like you,” he warned, then promptly closing his door before Eric had a chance to respond. He really didn’t need any more confirmation that Stan and Kyle spent almost every waking moment with each other, but man did it feel good to be right about it.

As he walked into Kyle’s room, he closed the door behind him, watching as Kyle dug through his dresser drawers. “Trying to hide any incriminating evidence?”

Kyle looked up and scowled at him. He was gonna get Stan’s face stuck like that if he kept doing that. “Since we don’t know how long this shit is gonna last, I thought I would give you the- what did you call it earlier- rulebook of my life?”

“I was joking.”

“I’m not,” he crossed his arms, “I’ve put in too much work to pass already, I don’t need you fucking it up on ‘accident’.” He used air quotes around the word ‘accident’. This was gonna be a long afternoon.

“Ugh, fine,” Eric groaned, walking around Kyle to sit on his bed, “What kind of fruity little rules am I gonna have to follow?”

Kyle tensed up, fingers gripping the dresser drawer a little harder before he took a deep breath and composed himself. “First things first, you better not think about… God, touching? Just, don’t be a fucking pervert, alright?”

Eric couldn’t help but gag. The implication that he would even want to… Kyle may have chick parts, but that still felt pretty gay. And it was Kyle. Double ick. “Think I’ll manage.” His eyes briefly glanced down, then back up. “Guess that means no looking at your tits-“

“If you call them that I will throw you out my fucking window, got it?” Kyle snapped.

Eric put his hands up in surrender. “Jesus, where’s the fucking aggression coming from?! Not used to all that testosterone?”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Kyle laughed harshly, “let me just pretend like this isn’t what I’ve been trying to avoid happening for fucking years and that you’re not blackmailing me into doing whatever your disgusting little heart desires.” He walked up to the bed, glaring down at Eric. “I think if you were in my position, then you be a little more than pissed, don’t ya think?” Another chill went down his back. He didn’t like this feeling Kyle was able to stir up in him, it was unsettling.

“Okay, I get the picture,” Eric gulped, “Can we, uh, get back to that list?”

Kyle took a breath and stepped back. “Good. Now, the next thing, because I will not have you fucking up my back, is the binder.”

Eric scowled. “Like the…” he folded pressed his hands together, then opened them like a book, “That kind of binder? How does that fuck up your back?”

“No, dipshit,” He pulled a tank top from his dresser. It was tan, the front having some kind of white paneling that the back didn’t have, and the length was too short for it to be a typical tank top. It was another version of whatever Kyle had been wearing during the swap, what Eric had to deal with currently. “This kind of binder. It binds my chest, it’s in the name. Look, just make sure I’m not wearing them all day, alright? It’s supposed to be eight hours max, but I usually just wait until I get home.”

Without really thinking about it, he found himself pulling at the bottom edge of the one he was wearing. That must be why it felt so annoying, eight hours wasn’t a whole lot. Given its restriction, he wondered how not looking at Kyle’s body while taking it off was gonna go. Guess that was future Eric’s problem.

“Eight hours, got it,” he confirmed, “What’s next? You got some ten-step skin care routine before bed? Cuticle care?”

“Do you think you’re funny?” Kyle asked, rolling his eyes.

“Oh, I’m fucking hilarious, I’m so sorry you haven’t gotten the memo.”

Kyle opened his mouth, surely about to threaten some more violence against Eric, but was interrupted by the cell phone in his pocket ringing. Stan’s phone. He hesitated as he grabbed it, looking uncertain as he answered. “Hey, mom.” He grimaced as he spoke.

Eric couldn’t quite hear whatever Stan’s mom had to say, but it must not have been much, as Kyle responded not long after picking up. “Alright, be right down.” He hung up, letting out a tense breath. “See you tomorrow, then. And remember- “

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be hands off, I get the picture,” he waved his hand, “I’ll keep you updated on those favors, Kyle.”

With one last tense look, Kyle left the room. Eric could faintly hear Sheila questioning him downstairs. And… Eric was all alone. In Kyle’s room. With all Kyle’s things.

A lightbulb went off in his mind. Maybe there was something more he could get out of this situation. He stood up from the bed, and went straight for the bedside table, rummaging through the top drawer. He wasn’t even sure if Kyle had what he was looking for, but if he did…

It didn’t take very long, the small, leather-bound journal not even hidden under anything, just shoved to the very back of the drawer. Kyle’s journal, diary, whatever he called it. A fucking goldmine in Eric’s eyes. He flipped through the pages, starting from the beginning. He saw as Kyle’s handwriting improved, becoming neater over the course of ten, fifteen pages. Unfortunately, Kyle didn’t seem to write in it daily, so the exact thing Eric was looking for might not even have been written down. A lot of it was just him bitching about his parents, or his body, Eric himself.

It was the first entry from middle school, dated during the first week of sixth grade that Eric finally found what he was looking for.

Dear Diary,

I’ve fucked up. Big time. It’s my own fault, really. Something’s wrong with me. Something else, I guess. Does it make me a bad person? Liking him? He’s not dating Wendy right now, so maybe that makes it less bad, but… God, I’ve felt like this for a while now. He was over a lot this summer, he was scared about us falling out again, like after covid. I didn’t want that to happen again, either. I still don’t want it to change. I like being his friend, his super best friend.

He held my hand today. I don’t think he meant to, he was just trying to catch up to me in the hallway. But it felt so nice. I think he’s picked up guitar again, his fingers were kind of calloused. It’s stupid, but I hope he didn’t think my hands were sweaty.

This whole thing is stupid. I don’t know why I can’t stop thinking about it. Getting butterflies isn’t nearly as wonderful as people make it seem. I bet he thought it was normal. You’re not supposed to think about holding your best friend’s hand, or playing with his hair, or… do I want to kiss Stan?

Do I love  

Do I like

Do I have a crush on

WHY IS THIS SO COMPLICATED! I don’t want things to be weird between us! I don’t want things to change. But also, I do.  

Eric’s smirk only grew as he read each sentence. This was the exact proof that he needed. There it was in fucking writing that Kyle liked Stan. God, this was suddenly all worth it.

This on top of the ten from the earlier dare, Kenny was gonna owe him so much fucking money.

He pulled out Kyle’s phone and snapped a picture of the page. As he opened Kyle’s email app he paused. He couldn’t exactly send the picture to himself without Kyle finding out once they swapped back. Same with if he sent it as a text. Sure, then Kenny would know, and thus he would get his rightfully earned cash, but then it would be the most recent message to himself, and he would be found out.

Using this as more blackmail was incredibly tempting, but that would be really holding information back from Stan. Everyone else pretty much already knew, and this was more about his bet with Kenny. It was his own secret, so Kyle couldn’t find out. He wasn’t going to let him level the playing field.

As he thought through his options, he almost didn’t notice the bedroom door open.

“Kyle, what on earth are you doing?!” Sheila exclaimed, her voice causing Eric to jump, the phone slipping from his grasp to the floor, “If you don’t get started on your homework, I’m gonna have to take that phone away from you!”

He scrambled to pick up the phone, shoving it in his pocket as he turned to Kyle’s mom. “Yeah, whatever, I’ll get started.” He grumbled.

“Whatever?” Sheila repeated in shock, “You better watch your tone, young man. If you keep sassing me, I won’t hesitate to ban Stan from coming over on weeknights. He’s clearly a bad influence on you and your attitude.”

Eric didn’t get a chance to response as Sheila turned from the door frame, already yelling at Ike for something as she left his line of sight. He scoffed and shook his head. He knew he was onto something calling her a bitch all the way back in grade school, but God, it was different as Kyle. Worse somehow. He wondered why Kyle didn’t complain about her more. Or at least agree with him.

Regardless of how he was told, he sat down at Kyle’s desk, staring at the notebook that was already opened in front of him. It must have been Kyle’s math book, as evidenced by the numbers and shapes that littered the page. He suddenly became more concerned. Kyle was in a higher-level math class than him.

Why did this whole day have to keep getting worse?

Chapter Text

If it wasn’t for the alarm on Cartman’s phone, Kenny wouldn’t have woken up in time for school. He was so used to waking up early in his shitstorm of his house, the near silence of the Cartman household was almost disconcerting. No parents fighting, alley fights happening outside, or the cold Colorado wind blowing through the broken window to keep him up. It was arguably the best sleep he’d had in ages.

Not a very high bar, given there wasn’t any sleep better than death, but that never seemed to last very long Kenny, so he would gladly take more nights like this.

He sat up in the bed, rubbing his sleep filled eyes as he tried to remember just what he was doing in Cartman’s house, as the memories of yesterday flooded back in. The field trip, Cartman climbing up on the machine, him and his friends trying to pull him off, swapping bodies. Right, he was in Cartman’s house because he was Cartman, at least he was for the time being. He shouldn’t have been surprised that it wasn’t just a one-day thing.

Kenny reached out for the phone on the bedside table, shutting off the alarm. The music seemed familiar, possibly that one song from the Terrance and Phillip movie. How old was Cartman, ten? Why the fuck was that still his alarm? He shook his head as he placed the phone on the bed, running his hands down his face.

How the fuck were they supposed to do this? Pretend like everything was okay. Yesterday was one thing, acting like Cartman in front of a teacher, but in front of his peers? People were gonna know something was up. Hell, even Cartman’s mom thought there was something going on because Kenny hadn’t overreacted to what she had planned for dinner.

This all had to be some kind of karma for joking that one time that Liane was kinda hot. Kenny was seriously doubting his tastes after hearing her call him “poopsiekins”. Just thinking about her seemed to summon her, her voice calling from downstairs.

“Eric, sweetie, are you getting ready for school?”

Kenny sighed, clearing his throat as he yelled back down in response. “Yeah, yeah, I’m up, not need to bitch.”

“Oh, Eric, we've talked about using that kind of language in the house.” Liane scolded in a playful tone. He heard the clatter of dishes downstairs, and assumed that was the end of the conversation, hoping off the bed to start getting ready for school.

Changing clothes had been a hassle the night before, and it was no different in the morning. Kenny wouldn’t call himself a prude- and his friends could certainly back that up- but it was too goddamn early for him to accidentally see Cartman’s dick. He managed better than he had the previous night, just choosing articles of clothing Kenny knew Cartman had worn together, then throwing his usual red jacket on top of that, grabbing both his hat and backpack as he left the room.

Much to his surprise, Liane hadn’t made the two of them breakfast, which Kenny was sort of relived by. One less meal in this house meant he could get to the others faster and figure a way out of this ordeal sooner.

“Morning, Poopsiekins, you must have slept well,” She greeted, smiling as her eyes stayed locked on her phone, probably scrolling through news sites.

“Whatever,” Kenny sassed, making his way towards the snack cabinet. Now, Kenny wouldn’t say that he was on good terms with his parents, but Liane wasn’t like them, so being harsh to her didn’t feel right. That wasn’t to say she had been the perfect mother for Cartman, but from Kenny’s view, she was still better than his folks.

“You slept through your first two alarms, I was starting to worry I would have to come up there and wake you myself,” she chuckled to herself, finally setting down her phone as Kenny opened the cabinet door, “Yesterday must have been pretty eventful, huh?”

Kenny’s hand froze as he reached for the Poptart box. She didn’t… no, no, she was just making conversation. Stop overreacting.

“It was pretty boring, if you ask me,” he scoffed, hoping the pause didn’t seem too suspicious. He grabbed one packet from the box, then closed the cabinet door. “Gotta get going, see ya later.”

“Have a good day at school, sweetie!” Liane gave him a sweet smile as Kenny turned on his heels and rushed to the door. God, this was just punishment for the one joke. Life sure did have a funny sense of humor.

He didn’t say goodbye, slamming the front door behind him as he made good pace toward the bus stop. He hadn’t gotten a panicked text from “Stan”, so he assumed Kyle hadn’t killed Cartman yesterday, but Stan himself was being pretty quiet on the texting front, so his state was a mystery. However, Kenny knew his own household enough to know that it was probably a rough night.

That was if Stan had made it through the night.

Kenny could brush off his whole immortality situation as joke, but now that he was in Cartman’s body… he didn’t know how that would all work out. Was death gonna follow his soul, or would it now be tied to Stan? Both options didn’t seem great, and he wasn’t sure if he should warn Stan. He knew the guy wouldn’t believe him, so that conversation felt like a nonstarter. But avoiding the whole thing felt wrong too.

Maybe he could bank on his luck as of late. He hadn’t gotten himself killed for, like, a year, maybe even a little longer. Stan’s luck was better than his anyway. He shouldn’t worry about scenarios that had become more and more rare as he got older.

As he approached the bus stop, the first thing Kenny saw was himself. That still was weird. He didn’t know if that was ever going to be normal, and honestly if that did get to feel normal, that was a whole ‘nother issue. Stan looked about as rough as Kenny would expect. It didn’t look like he had time to brush Kenny’s hair, which was on full display as he was wearing the parka haphazardly, with it not even being zipped up all the way. Even from a distance, Kenny could see Stan rubbing at his eyes.

“You look like hell,” Kenny greeted, throwing the packet of Poptarts at him. Stan jumped but managed to catch the silvery package in his hands. “Feel like I could have given you a better warning.”

“About the Poptarts or your place?” Stan laughed quietly, ripping open the package, “It’s all good dude, I forgot how noisy it gets down here. The farm is so quiet at night.”

“My part town also isn’t the best, sorry dude,” Kenny gave him an apologetic smile, “Did Karen wake you up? I usually help her get ready, I didn’t remember if I told you or- “

“Kenny, dude, it’s all good,” Stan interrupted, returning the smile, “You don’t need to apologize. There’re worse things than helping your sister get ready for school.” He took one of the Poptarts and passed it too Kenny. He didn’t notice until then he had grabbed the cinnamon ones. “Besides, your sister’s a sweetheart, so it wasn’t all that bad.”

Kenny took the Poptart, ignoring how the edges were falling apart into crumbs in his hands. “Yeah, she’s a good kid.”

They stood in silence for a while, enjoying their breakfast in relative peace, until they heard another person start to approach the bus stop. It was hard not to hear Cartman, grumbling to himself, and somehow finding the crunchiest parts of the snow to step in as he walked up to them. While Stan hadn’t looked great, Cartman’s entire demeaner just screamed that he was having a shit time. He kept futzing with his backpack straps, scowling down at the ground. Kyle’s hat was stuffed in the jacket pocket, so the bright red curls were on full display. Kenny half wondered if Cartman had even tried anything to make it more manageable, or if that was why his mood was so sour.

“I take it back,” Kenny said as Cartman was close enough to hear, “If Stan looks like hell, I don’t even want to know what nightmare dimension I could compare Cartman to.”

“Oh, I don’t wanna fucking hear it,” Cartman growled, rubbing at his chest like it was sore, “This whole thing is fucking stupid, Kyle’s body is fucking stupid, and it’s only been one fucking day!”

“Kyle’s body isn’t stupid, you’re just overreacting,” Stan brushed the crumbs off his hands, “Here, I’ll help you with-“

“I don’t want your fucking help, Stan!” Cartman yelped, taking several steps back even though Stan hadn’t even moved, “You’re not gonna pretend like I’m your little boyfriend and feel me up!”

“Kyle’s not-“ Stan cut himself off, shaking his head as a light blush dusted his cheeks. He took a deep breath before continuing, “You need to calm down, Cartman.”

“Don’t you quote Taylor Swift at me! You don’t have it half as bad!”

“I wasn’t quoting…” Stan scowled in confusion, “Whatever, I don’t know why I even try.”

“Okay, if we’re being perfectly honest, you both look a mess,” Kenny pointed out, “And if we’re gonna do this shit, you both need to pull it together.”

“Easy for you to say,” Cartman scoffed, “You don’t have to deal with…” Whatever bullshit he was gonna complain about must not have been important, his smug confidence fading as he trailed off. Kenny was half tempted to ask him what he was talking about. Maybe it had something to do with why Kyle dragged him to the bathroom during the field trip yesterday. If it was really important, he knew Cartman would have no trouble bringing it up at the worst possible moment.

With a sigh, he walked up to Cartman, swiping the green hat from his pocket, and shoving it on his head. He tried shoving Kenny away, swatting at his arms, but to no avail. It wasn’t perfect, Kyle’s hair was a stubborn bitch, so there were a few rebel curls that peaked out from under the hat, but not in a way that it looked far from normal.

“There,” Kenny took a step back to admire his handiwork, “As long as you don’t talk, people won’t suspect a thing.”

Cartman scowled, “You’re one to talk. What the fuck was that lame ass excuse you gave Garrison yesterday?” He crossed his arms as Kenny heard Stan zip up his jacket behind him, “Your impression may have fooled him, but the everyone else at school is gonna call bullshit.”

Kenny rolled his eyes. It was somehow worse that Cartman agreed with him about that. “Oh yeah, because pushing it too far won’t seem equally as suspicious to everyone at school-“ He held up a hand, “Wait, wait, I mean ‘skewl’. That more accurate?”

Stan chuckled as Cartman turned beet red, huffing as he turned away. Kenny couldn’t help but smirk, this new dynamic was gonna be interesting. He was so used to kind of blurring into the background as of late, and while he wasn’t thrilled with being the instigator, at least he was forefront for once. As the bus started to roll to the stop, he figured one more punch down won’t hurt.

“Or maybe I could reuse some old catchphrases, if that’s not enough,” he suggested, “What’s a good one- oh yeah!” He cleared his throat as the bus’s braked creaked, doors swinging open, “Screw you guys, I’m going home!” Shit eating grin on his face, he turned on his heels and started walking onto the bus.

Behind him he heard Cartman start to complain about how “he couldn’t say it if he didn’t commit to the bit”, but between his flustered tone and Stan’s laughter, Kenny really didn’t see any reason to give him a response.

He suddenly understood why he picked on Kyle so much. This shit was kind of satisfying.

Speaking of Kyle, he noticed him right away, half standing from his seat and waving them over as they filed onto the bus. He seemed to have had a better night than the other two, not as exhausted as Stan and far from pissed like Cartman. Honestly, he looked like he was doing better than okay. It looked like he had brushed through Stan’s hair (more work than the guy would normally put in), and he looked more awake and engaged. A sort of excitement for life Kenny knew Stan had lost years ago. It was refreshing, if not slightly off putting.

Kenny didn’t even get a chance to say anything before Stan pushed him forward, hoping into the seat next to Kyle.

“You weren’t fucking with me, right?” Stan asked Kyle.

“No, dude, Shelly was going fucking crazy!” Kyle exclaimed quietly, laughing to himself as he launched into some sort of story. They leaned closer to each other, basically mirroring each other’s sappy smiles. Kenny was left standing in the aisle, Cartman behind him.

“We invisible or something?” He asked as he took the seat behind Stan and Kyle, Cartman sliding in next to him.

“To those two? Practically,” He scoffed.

Kenny frowned as the bus started moving, eyes darting to the other students throughout the bus. “People are gonna think it’s weird, you know, you sitting next to me.”

“You wanna tell the love birds?” Cartman asked, rolling his eyes as the pair laughed about something Kyle said, “Jesus, if they don’t figure this out by the time this is all done, I’m gonna kill myself.”

Kenny hummed in agreement. He couldn’t remember when this had become the norm, him and Cartman practically third wheeling Stan and Kyle and their pinning asses. Sure, they’d been doing it since grade school, but they were only aware of what exactly was going on since… last year? That seemed too soon, but it was probably accurate. Kenny loved the both of them dearly, but they were so ridiculously stubborn about their feelings that even a direct confession wouldn’t be enough to convince either one of them.

“Speaking of,” Cartman’s voice took a turn, his annoyance with their friends fading into something more serious, “You planning on tell Stan about your little… superpower?”

Kenny’s blood ran cold, his heart racing as he locked eyes with Cartman. “What?”

“Are you seriously gonna play dumb?” he replied sharply, “You want Stan to find out by getting run over by a car? Impaled by falling debris? Fucking decapitated by-“

“Okay, okay, point made,” He slapped a hand over Cartman’s mouth, as he dropped his voice to a whisper, “Keep your fucking voice down!” It was usually an unspoken thing, Cartman knowing about his… God, saying it was a power sounds pretentious, but accurate. Something they both knew about but never discussed. Hearing him bring it up so candidly was unsettling.

Cartman scowled, shoving Kenny’s hand away. “Why? It’s not like they’re gonna believe you.”

“Why do you think I haven’t said anything about it?!” Kenny shot back, “I know it’s not gonna work, and if nothing ends up happening, I’m gonna look like a fucking psycho!”

“And if something does happen?”

Kenny sighed and looked away, “I’ll worry about if- if something happens.” He could practically feel the disappoint radiating of off Cartman, but it’s not like they would believe him either. “If we can help it, this… situation isn’t gonna last long enough for that to be an issue.”

“Oh, we all have secrets, Kenny,” Cartman scoffed, “It’s only a matter of time before we figure them out.”

Scowling in confusion, Kenny turned back to Cartman, not the slightest bit surprised by the shit eating grin on his face. “I didn’t think you had much to hide. Unless you’re talking about Kyle.”

Without a second of hesitation, Cartman whipped his phone out of his jacket pocket, already open on a photo of some kind of journal. Kenny took the phone to get a closer look, zooming further into the writing.

“Dear diary, I’ve fucked up. Big time,” he read aloud, quietly, eyes skimming the short, frantically written paragraphs, “Something’s wrong with me… I’ve felt like this for a while…do I want to-“ He stopped talking as his mind caught up to what exactly he was reading. This wasn’t just some diary entry from Kyle, but a confession. An actual confession of his feelings for Stan. Or at least, the realization of his feelings for Stan. “Holy shit.”

“Time to pay up, McCormick,” Cartman snatched the phone from Kenny’s hand, taunting him playfully. And like there wasn’t enough going on in their lives currently… there was the on-going bet between him and Cartman about Stan and Kyle.

When they had figured out the two were crushing on each other, Kenny and Cartman got into a fight over who had fallen first. Kenny was sure it was Stan, remembering just how jealous the guy got when Kyle had stopped hanging out with him for like a week in fourth grade, but Cartman argued it was Kyle that had started crushing first. Because he didn’t know how seriously Cartman would take it, Kenny had been the one to start the bet, thinking at the time that there was no way they would ever figure it out.

Of course, he hadn’t expected the perfect opportunity to land in Cartman’s lap to get the exact information they had been conspiring about for the better part of a year.

“I’m not paying shit,” Kenny frowned, “We still don’t know about Stan, so you haven’t proven your point yet.”

Cartman rolled his eyes, “God, when the fuck did you get so detail oriented? Or are you just worried you don’t have enough spare change in the couch cushions to pay me in full?”

“I’ve got plenty of fucking money, you ass,” He spoke flatly, wondering if making the same goddamn joke about his family’s lack of wealth would ever get tiring to Cartman, “I’m just not giving you something you haven’t earned.”

While Cartman didn’t seem to like that answer, he dropped the topic, and the two sat in relative silence for the rest of the bus ride, only interrupted by the sounds of Stan and Kyle’s conversation in front of them. Kenny kept thinking about what Cartman had said, about them all having secrets. It implied that Cartman had something to hide, which threw him for a loop. After knowing him since grade school, Kenny thought he knew almost every embarrassing thing he could about Cartman. The idea of him being able to hide something for so long was intriguing but also confusing.

It wasn’t until the bus was pulling into the school lot that Kyle and Stan remembered about them sitting one seat back.

“I found some stuff last night about Mephesto’s lab,” Kyle was leaning over the seat, just enough so that Kenny could see his face, “It’s enough to fully undo…” his voice trailed as he looked between the three of them, “This, but it’ll be a start.”

Kenny looked towards Cartman, half expecting some kind of crude remark, but he nodded grimly towards Kyle. A bit in shock, he turned back towards Kyle, nodding in agreement as the bus screeched to a stop in front of the school.

Without much fuss, the four were able to make their way through the school, sights set on discussing what Kyle found out the night before. Kenny was for sure being paranoid, but he couldn’t help the chill that went down his spine as they passed by people, sixth and eight graders alike. He didn’t really know half of these people, but he was suddenly worried that all their eyes were on him. When he was himself, he was used to people kind of forgetting about him, but Cartman had really made a name for himself. With Cartman, there was a certain expectation of the kind of crazy bullshit he would say, do, get others to do, etc. It really depended on the week.

They took their normal seats at one of the cafeteria tables. The lunchroom was never really crowded in the mornings, most students would rather hang out outside in the courtyard or in the hallways, so they were ensured a bit more privacy than on the bus. As they sat down, Kenny’s eyes turned toward Kyle, hopeful the guy had even the tiniest bit of good news.

“So, in trying to research anything on Mephesto’s lab, I did find that the device isn’t very old, been there since 2014,” Kyle started out.

“2014? That’s like-“ Kenny started to comment, but before he could do any mental math, Kyle cut him off.

“I know it’s been a while, but out of everything over there it’s the newest,” he reassured, “Like he said on the tour, it also says on his website that he hasn’t tested it before. So, theoretically, the only person who might know how it works in the guy whose invention it was based off.”

Stan broke into a wide smile, which made Kenny realize the guy still hadn’t put the hood up, even after harassing both him and Cartman about looking a little more presentable. “That’s good then!” he said, “We could get the guy to come up to South Park or plan a little trip to Oregon. That shouldn’t be too hard.”

“Unfortunately, it’s not that easy,” Kyle sighed, giving Stan a sad look, “I tried digging up more about that Oregon physicist Mephesto mentioned, but it was a dead end. Either he died in a car crash, or he faked his own death to open a tourist trap” he shook his head, “It was confusing, but there wasn’t anything about some kind of electron swap machine in his works. Another dead end.”

“Well that’s fan-fucking-tasic,” Cartman grumbled, “So, we planning on breaking in the lab tonight? Tomorrow? I know for a fact that none of you have plans cause you’re all losers-“

“Hold your horse, dude,” Kenny interrupted, “We still don’t know how to work that damn thing, and I doubt we’ll have enough time to just bullshit it before we get caught.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure security has gotten tighter up there over the past few years,” Stan added, “Makes sense because of the break ins after the whole 5G freak out. I think my dad might have been a part of that?”

“That’s not surprising,” Kyle scoffed, earning a glare from Stan.

“Point being, we’re not gonna dive headfirst into this without some kind of plan,” Kenny continued his first thought, “Do you think you can find out more information about Mephesto’s lab, Ky- uh,” he quickly looked around, realizing just how close the rest of the students were, “Stan.”

“Not out at the farm, service is shit up there,” he frowned, “I feel like your dad would have appreciated having faster internet- “

“Okay, okay, Randy’s a dick, can we not keep bringing him up?” Stan quickly deflected.

“You brought him up first.”

“As a reference to Mephesto’s security! I wasn’t trying to- “

“Dude,” Cartman held up a hand, breaking up Stan and Kyle’s fight, “You just need to, as a great lyricist once put, shake it off.”

Kenny dragged a hand down his face as Kyle stared at him in utter confusion. “The fuck?”

“Why do you keep bringing up Taylor Swift unprompted?” Stan asked, exasperated.

“I have my reasons!” Cartman suddenly hopped on the defensive, “One of them being the Spotify on this phone isn’t on my account and it seems that someone here,” He locked eyes with Kyle, “has been listening to ‘You Belong with Me’ on repeat for like a month- “

“You know, I don’t think it matters, we should just keep figuring this out,” Kyle’s voice cracked as he tried to talk quickly over Cartman, face flushed in panic as he tried to put on a fake smile.

Kenny had to put a hand over his mouth to not laugh out loud. He was all for pushing them closer together, but Cartman’s timing really needed some work. Stan scowled and mouthed, “You Belong with Me?” towards Kenny. Still trying not to laugh, Kenny only shrugged.

Kyle took in a deep breath before continuing, “All we need is someone who’s good at computers to, like, break into his server and find anything about the Electron Swap and Transfer Device in his files,” he explained, leg bouncing under the table in anxiety.

“Who the fuck do we know that has enough free time to do that? Let alone someone who would help us?” Cartman asked, the scowl on his face most likely due to his frustration that exposing Kyle’s Spotify didn’t get a bigger reaction.

There was a pause as everyone went through a mental list of people in their class, wracking their brains for what their next step should be. One name came to Kenny’s mind almost instantly, and he was honestly surprised no one else had thought of it first.

“Butters is pretty good with computers,” he pointed out. A light seemed to spark behind Kyle’s eyes, but whatever plan he was cooking up was interrupted by Cartman.

“Oh, hell no! We are not getting Butters to do our dirty work for us!” Cartman exclaimed.

“You have him do your dirty work all the time,” Stan pointed out, “How the fuck is this any different?”

“Because I’m not the one dealing with him this time,” He titled his head towards Kenny to further emphasize his point, “If we ask him to do shit for us without any black mail or something like that, he’s gonna know something is up and he’ll rat us out to Garrison!”

“Butters isn’t gonna rat us out,” Kenny rolled his eyes, “I doubt he’d be able to figure it out after one conversation with me.”

“Oh yeah?” Cartman turned towards Kenny, “Just what exactly are you gonna hold over him to convince him?”

“How about you just trust me for once,” Kenny snapped, “Unless you have any other bright ideas?”

The scowl on Cartman’s face made him look like he was gonna burst a blood vessel. He turned to Kyle and Stan for some sort of back up.

“We might as well try, it’s better than nothing,” Kyle shrugged.

With one final huff of frustration, Cartman crossed his arms in defeat. “You better not fuck this up, Kenny.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Kenny retorted, voice full of sarcasm as he stood from the cafeteria table. Given there was still some time before classes start, he had a good idea as to where to find the blond. It was only a matter of acting believably as Cartman.

Turning the corner into the hallway, he instantly spotted Butters, standing at his locker, laughing as he talked with Jimmy. Kenny took in a deep breath. You’ve got this McCormick, he thought to himself as he made his way over.

“Alright Jimmy, see ya in class!” Butters waved goodbye to Jimmy, his back turned as Kenny reached him. It was now or never. All he had to do was convince him to help them out. Simple enough.

“Hey Butters!” He enthusiastically threw an arm around his shoulder, the sudden attention causing the blonde to jump in surprise.

“Ah!” he screamed, his startled look fading as he made eye contact with Kenny, “Oh, hey there, Eric. What’s goin’ on?”

“I’m so glad you asked, Butters,” Kenny released him from his grasp, moving so to block him in-between his open locker and the hallway, “You’ve used your hacking skills for me in the past, right?”

Butters raised an eyebrow and shifted the straps on his backpack, “Well, yeah, but- “

“Great, so the thing is, you know Mephesto? I’m gonna need to you to break into his personal server to find out information about how one of his machines works.” He couldn’t help but feel bad about interrupting, especially as he saw the slight way Butters’ face fell as he was cut off. It was pointless in feeling bad, Cartman wouldn’t have felt bad. But Cartman didn’t really care about Butters, he just used him because the poor guy was naive and sweet and was always so willing to help out in-

Okay, so maybe Kenny had thought about this more than once before.

“Hack into his server?” Butters asked, eyes widening in shock, “Why on Earth would you need me to do that?”

“I just need to figure out how the one electron swappy transfer machine works,” He replied waving his hand nonchalantly, “Don’t worry, I wouldn’t concern in the reasons why, I just know you’ll be able to find what I need better than I can.”

Butters frowned, using one of his free hands to fiddle with the edge of his shirt as he thought. Kenny felt his nerves from earlier creep back up. He didn’t think that Cartman had been right. Sure, he had some kind of backup plan, but that was a last resort. Especially because that plan hinged on a fact that Kenny wasn’t sure he fully believed. Something that might be true but trusting it would be a real leap of faith.

Eventually, Butters took in a deep breath, and met Kenny’s eyes, his bright blue eyes stern and collected. “No.”

Kenny’s stomach started turning in knots. “Wha- what you mean no?” This wasn’t good, Cartman was going to kick his ass if this didn’t work. Heck, he wouldn’t blame Stan or Kyle for wanting to kick his ass if this didn’t work. He needed this to work.

“I mean no, Eric!” he closed his locker shut, the slamming of the metal echoing in the quiet hallway, “I’m not gonna let you use me for some little scheme. I’ve been talking with some friends, and they told me I should stand up for myself.”

“Friends? What friends?” he asked.

“Just… someone, alright.” Butters’ face started to blush, and the memory flooded back to Kenny’s mind. Him. He was the friend who told Butters to stand up for himself. Of course, him being a good person was coming back to bite him in the ass. “It doesn’t matter because I’m not helping you.” Butters straightened his backpack straps, and turned on his heels, speed walking down the hallway to his first class.

“Butters, wait!” Kenny called out, his panic making his Cartman impression slip slightly, “Just…” he bit his lip as his back up planned came to mind. Not like he had much of a choice anymore. Before he could overthink himself to death, he called out, “I can get you a date with Kenny!”

The blonde stopped in his tracks, shoulders tensing. Kenny could feel his heart beating hard in his chest. It was a leap of faith. A terrifying leap of faith. He had thought for a while that Butters might have the tiniest crush on him, but he didn’t have any real proof. Just the way Kenny’s own face would light up at texts from him, or offer to hang out, just the two of them. He’d had girlfriends before, but Butters… that would be new territory. Just throwing out the idea of dating him seemed far too vulnerable for him to do on his own. Being a wingman for himself wasn’t exactly ideal, either.

As Butters turned around, face burning red, Kenny couldn’t help the smile that spread on his face. “A date with…” he rubbed the back on his neck, “Are you messing with me, Eric?”

“I promise I’m not,” Kenny rushed forward to Butters, relived that the rest of his plan was going to work, “Me, Stan, and Kyle, we’re trying to set the guy on a blind date and if you’re able to help me out,” He glanced around to make sure no one else they knew were snooping, “I’ll put in a good word, get you to the top of our suggestion list.”

Butters bit his lip, “Oh, I’m still not sure… would Kenny even want to go on a date with a guy like me?”

“Trust me, he would be all in.”

It still wasn’t convincing enough, unfortunately, as Butters still looked concerned. “My parents will for sure ground me if they find me hacking into private servers for scientific research facilities.”

Kenny raised an eyebrow, “Have they said something about that specifically?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Butters, your parents fucking suck,” Kenny placed a hand on his shoulder, “But you know how to work around them at this point. They’ll be the last of your concern, and if not, we’ll jail break ya. Sound fair?”

“I guess so…” Butters mumbled in agreement as the five-minute bell rung, telling students to get a move on to their first period class. “Okay fine, I’ll help you out Eric.”

“Oh, you’re not gonna regret this, Butters!” Kenny embraced the smaller boy in a hug, his own excitement that everything had gone along with his plan overwhelming him. It didn’t take him long to remember that Cartman hugging Butters wasn’t exactly normal, and he let go. Butters looked confused but didn’t say anything about the sudden outburst. “Let me know when you get something. The sooner the better.”

“Got it!” Butters exclaimed, smiling as he rushed down the hallway to his class. As Kenny watched him turn the corner, fully out of view, he let out a sigh of relief.

He just set up a date between him and Butters.

Butters only agreed to help because of that stipulation.

He couldn’t believe that actually worked. How did it get to the point where his love life was the least complicated out of the four of them? Did it really take having to switch bodies with Eric Cartman? Had he known that he would have dared the guy to climb that machine much sooner.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t live in that moment for long, soon realizing he was going to be late for class if he didn’t get a move on and started running across campus. He thankfully shared a bunch of classes with Cartman, so he knew where he was going, and managed to rush into the classroom just as the final bell went off. His teacher didn’t look too pleased as he gave an apologetic smile, slinking around the other desks as he took Cartman’s seat.

He was able to meet Stan’s eyes, thankful the guy had finally put the hood up. Stan raised his eyebrows, giving him a hopeful thumbs up. Kenny figured he was asking how the deal went. He smiled, returning the thumbs up, before grabbing a notebook and pencil from his bag. Least he could do was make sure one of them was taking good notes while Cartman was stuck in Kyle’s honors classes.

Once class was over, Stan rushed over to him.

“So, he said yes?” he asked, the excitement in his voice was hard to miss, even thought it was muffled.

“Oh yeah, we’re in business,” Kenny smirked, standing from his seat.

“Damn, what did you use to convince him to help?”

Kenny paled. He kind of forgot that since he wasn’t himself, that meant that Stan was gonna deal with the aftermath of saying that the guys were trying to get ‘Kenny’ a blind date. “Don’t worry, it won’t matter until we’ve switched back.”

Their next class was only one hallway away, so they took their time getting there. It gave Kenny enough time to think about what him and Cartman had talked about on the bus. About Kenny’s immortality. He hadn’t quite changed his mind about telling Stan, but maybe there were other ways to make sure Stan stayed safe.

“Maybe you should stay with me for the next few days?” he suggested, “You know, until this whole thing blows over.”

“Are you sure, dude?” Stan’s eyebrows upturned in concern, “Do think that Cart- I mean, uh, your mom would be okay with that?”

Kenny nodded, hoping he didn’t cringe too much at the name slip. That was for sure going to keep happening for at least the next two days. “It’ll be fine, you stay over all the time. It wouldn’t be any different.”

“I do?”

“Well, not all the time, I guess. Just whenever you need a break,” Kenny explained, “It wouldn’t seem too weird.”

Even through the hood of the parka, Kenny could tell Stan was pretty grateful. He knew the guy did better when he was around other people, and he had a sneaking suspicion that Stan was stressed about Kyle being in his body. Letting him spend the night at Cartman’s place was the least he could do.

The offer couldn’t have come up at a better time, it turned out. Kenny thankfully noticed the blinking fluorescent light above them, as Stan continued walking forward... which meant he heard the creak in the ceiling with just a few seconds to spare.

“Dude, look out!” He yelled, pulling him back by his jacket as the light collapsed in front of them, just missing Stan’s head by millimeters. Both boys stumbled back from the force Kenny had used, his own heart racing in panic.

“Holy fucking shit,” Stan placed a hand on his chest, using the other to pull the hood down. He was panting, clearly shocked from how quickly everything had happened. “That could have taken my fucking head off!”

Kenny had noticed. He knew that had he not been paying attention, it would have for sure taken his head off, or electrocuted him to death. It hadn’t been Kenny’s closest call, not by a long shot, but it wasn’t a good sign. Given they both were there, he still wasn’t sure if that had been meant for him... or for Stan.

“Oh, that old thing?” Kenny’s voice faltered, just as shaken as Stan, “Happens all the time, let’s get to class.” He tried to grab Stan by the backpack, dragging him away from the scene as quickly as possible in case a neighboring light had a similar idea. Stan wasn’t too thrilled to just keep moving on.

“What do you mean this happens- That shit could have killed me!” He exclaimed as they plowed through groups of students.

“You have no idea,” Kenny muttered to himself, picking up the pace. As he looked amongst the students, no one seemed all too concerned that the school was falling apart at the seams, or that two students were almost collateral damage. At least that part hadn’t changed. And it probably wouldn’t so long as Stan calmed down.

Stan only managed to get out of Kenny’s grasp once they made it to their next class. He ran his hands through Kenny’s hair, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Why the fuck are you being so calm about this?” he asked, “Why the fuck did no one else do anything?”

“Dude,” Kenny grabbed Stan’s wrists, bringing his voice to a whisper, “You need to chill. Weird shit happens all the time in this town. Think about our fucking situation.”

Stan scowled, “But- “

“Stan, seriously, it’s fine. You’re fine, just drop it.” Kenny could feel Stan tense up but held his ground. His plan was that he would let go once Stan accepted his terms. Fortunately for Stan, his plans today weren’t ever going to go right the first time. They were there for a few seconds before someone cleared their throat. Kenny’s eyes darted over to the figure to see Clyde, standing awkwardly to the side. It was then Kenny realized that the two of them were blocking the door to class.

“Uhm, you guys good?” Clyde asked, looking between the two of them.

“Mind your fucking business, Clyde,” Kenny snarked, bringing back his Cartman voice as he let go off Stan, leaving an opening for him to walk through. Clyde looked a tad shocked, but walked past them, shaking his head as he passed the door frame. Kenny brought his attention back to Stan. “You good?”

Stan, still shaken, nodded, “Yeah, all good.” He took a deep breath, and put the hood back up.

Kenny sighed and walked into the classroom first. There was the tiniest spark of hope inside him. Maybe… Maybe if Stan was able to freak out about how no one seemed to notice what had happened…. Maybe he would finally understand.

That was still one big maybe.

Chapter Text

The fact the Stan’s day was already a roller-coaster of emotions and it wasn’t even lunch yet was truly upsetting. He doubted it was going to be a normal day, for obvious reasons, but all expectations of just lying low and rolling with the punches really came to a head when he was nearly decapitated by a falling light in the hallway.

Kenny had told him not to worry, but that really didn’t make him feel any better. Was he just supposed to assume that the school was always seconds away from falling apart? That the ceiling tiles were always right on the edge of collapsing onto the student body, and that Stan was just lucky Kenny was able to pull him back?

God, he was starting to understand why Tweek was so paranoid all the time. He seriously hoped Kenny had a good reason for being such a vague bastard.

After the near-death experience, the classes passed by in a blur, not that he felt totally to blame. He always thought the classes were lame and boring. But it was a little hard to focus on “learning” while waiting for any signs that the falling ceiling hadn’t just been a one-off thing. Kenny had said that stuff like that happened all the time, which is why no one else seemed to care, so maybe there were always small signs around him, and he just never noticed because he had never been affected. That would explain why Kenny thought he had over-reacted, but then why-

“Mr. McCormick!” His social studies teacher exclaimed, slamming a hand down on his desk. Her shrill voice was enough to jump Stan from his thoughts, sitting up straighter in his seat. “Pay attention!”

“Sorry,” he apologized, shrinking back in his seat as the rest of the class around him giggled, amused that he had gotten in trouble. She must have been calling Kenny’s name for a while, which would explain why she was having such a hard time getting his attention. That morning, he kept hearing Kenny’s parents calling out Kenny's name, and it took him an embarrassingly long amount of time for him to realize that they meant him and he had to respond.

Thankfully, class was over shortly after that incident, and the bell starting the lunch period rang. Half-way through the day. He didn’t know how much longer he could do this.

“You are so lucky I take good notes,” Kyle joked, sliding up to his desk as the rest of the class started to file out. Social studies was one of the few classes Stan had with Kenny, so because of the whole body swap thing, it meant that it was a class he shared with Kyle.

“You are a lifesaver, dude,” he slung his backpack over his shoulder. Stan shouldn’t have been surprised that despite all the chaos they’ve been through, Kyle would somehow be able to do well in school. It was impressive, even if it was pretty nerdy.

That was just Kyle to a tee, really. Impressive, pretty, nerdy. Maybe not in that exact order.

Regardless, he clearly has a type.

Kyle shrugged, taking the lead as they headed out to the cafeteria for lunch. It was reassuring just how quickly the pair were able to fall into familiar habit, walking to and from class together, able to weave around other students in the hallway, almost like it was just a normal day.

And then Stan would look towards Kyle and be meet with his own face. Was it weird to admit that it was disappointing? To not see Kyle’s face? He kept trying to see Kyle in how he emoted, the only times it was painfully obvious was when he was pissed off or angry. But now, as they made their way through the lunch line, he found himself staring more than he should, waiting for a subtle crinkle in his brow, or soft smile that reminded Stan that his best friend was there, and this wasn’t some crazy fever dream.

It was worse running into Cartman. Seeing a flash of his green hat or orange jacket, and briefly forgetting just who was actually there. This morning was absolute torture, not that Stan would ever give him the satisfaction of knowing that. Kyle’s hair out in the open, framing his face, which only brought more attention to the emerald flecks in his normally forest green eyes, the cold morning wind making the tip of his nose slightly red.

Not that Stan had given it much thought. Or like that image was now burned into his memory. Nah. No need to unpack all that, not while he’s not him.

Stan really missed being at the bus stop every morning.

As he and Kyle took their seats with Kenny at their usually lunch table, he tried to distance himself from the craziness that had been this morning. The least the universe could grant him was one normal fucking meal today. Oh, if he were to be so lucky.

“Are you purposely keeping us in suspense, or do you not know how to work a fucking iPhone?!” Cartman demanded as he slammed his lunch tray on the table, spooking the three boys already there.

Kenny, who had been staring off at… something a few tables in front of them nearly knocked his own tray off the table, while Kyle and Stan suddenly sat up at attention.

“I, uh, what? I know how to use an iPhone, dude,” Kenny sounded unsure of himself, eyes still darting towards whoever had his attention prior to Cartman’s entrance. Stan was half tempted to turn around and see just who was behind him but knew better than to call attention to it while Cartman was ready to rampage at the drop of a hat.

“What are you even talking about, jackass?” Kyle groaned.

“The mission with Butters, getting him to join the cause,” Cartman explained, still hovering over the empty spot at the table, “Or I am the only one still concerned with ending this?”

Kyle scowled at the implication that he didn't care, and Stan could just hear the million smart ass replies he was running through in his mind. Fortunately, Kenny was able to beat him to the punch.

“Oh, yeah, he said yes,” Kenny’s confirmation was enough for Cartman to finally take his seat, “Already told Stan. Figured he would tell Kyle. I was gonna send a text after English but passing period was… distracting.”

“Just distracting?!” Stan interjected, the caution rising in his tone sounded unfamiliar with Kenny’s voice, “Are you seriously just gonna sweep what happened under the rug- “

“I don’t give a shit what you two went through, you talked with him before classes even started!” Cartman interrupted, all his anger still aimed at Kenny across the table from him, “I had to wait four fucking periods just for you to say ‘yeah, he said yes’, fuck you!”

“At least he got Butters to say yes, you shouldn’t be bitching about it,” Kyle pointed out, pushing the sad excuse for cooked veggies around on the lunch tray. “But now I’m curious, what happened during passing period?”

“Thank you!” Stan exclaimed, turning his body towards Kyle, “So, I was just walking down the hallway when the ceiling light- “

“Oh, fuck off, like you don’t any reasons to complain!” Cartman once again cut Stan off, “I mean, if you want to hear me bitch, I could go into more detail about my morning if you think the group would want to hear.”

Despite having turned towards Cartman once he was interrupted, Stan still was able to catch the shift in Kyle’s mood, his eyes widened, the sharp intake of breath.

“No,” Kyle’s voice was strained, “I don't... whatever, forget I said anything.” His eyes fell to the table, the frustrated look in his face making Stan's heart ache.

“Kyle?” he went to grab his friend’s hand, only noticing that Kyle was slightly shaking as he pulled it away. Stan felt a drop in his stomach, the familiar sting of rejection washing over him.

You’d think he would be used to it, Kyle pushing him away at the slightest sign of affection, but Stan’s mind liked to twist it, make him rethink every single interaction, looking for where he could have messed up.

“Aw, what’s the matter?” Cartman teased, gesturing with his fork, “You can dish it out, but can’t handle when it’s served back to you?”

“Fuck you!”, Kyle snapped, slamming his hand down on the table, “I wasn’t trying to piss you off, don’t take it out on me because you got your feelings hurt!” As Kyle raised his voice, Stan could see other students in the cafeteria start to look over in confusion. He felt himself start to shrink further into his seat.

“Oh well, I’m sorry I’m just so emotional,” Cartman fake apologized, voice dripping with sarcasm, “I’m Kyle Broflovski, and I just take everything so goddamn seriously that I make it everyone else’s problem.” He was doing his poor imitation of Kyle again, much like he had yesterday, which made Stan’s blood boil. Kyle wouldn’t want Stan to defend him, he had made it very clear in the past that he could handle Cartman himself, but Stan just hated it. This twisted mischaracterization of his best friend.

“You are such an asshole,” Kyle seethed, “You’re calling me emotional when you’re always the one throwing a hissy fit over the smallest fucking things?!”

“Maybe you both are being overly emotional right now,” Kenny muttered under his breath, but neither boy seemed to notice.

“I don’t throw hissy fits! I’m not some fucking chick!”

“Would you rather me call them temper tantrums? Seems a bit more accurate now.”

Stan couldn’t take it anymore. It was one thing sitting between their arguments on a normal day, but hearing his own voice so pissed off, and Kyle’s so irritated, it was giving him emotional vertigo. As he stood from the table, neither Kyle nor Cartman seemed to notice, still wrapped up in their petty argument. Kenny met his eyes but didn’t say anything, only giving him a sad, understanding look as Stan started to walk away.

He sighed heavily, but as continued to be ignored, he put the hood back up and wandered off towards Kenny’s locker. Getting ready for his next class would be a better use of time than watching Kyle and Cartman argue. Not like they were listening to him even when he had something to say.

As he got closer to his locker, he noticed Bebe and Red gossiping with each other. He hadn’t talked to them in… a while. Not since he’s recent split with Wendy, so he half expected them to move once he got closer. But even as he opened the locker, they didn’t move, or even notice him.

“No, no, because they weren’t sitting next to each other on the bus,” Bebe insisted, half-way through some kind of argument, “So, it doesn’t make any sense.” He shouldn’t care about what they were talking about, he thought as he opened the locker. He had bigger problems currently without having to worry about stupid school gossip.

Red sighed, “Yeah right, because Stan wouldn’t move on that quickly, you know who you’re talking about right?” Stan instantly perked up at the sound of his own name. He shouldn’t care about school drama… but if it involved him…

“Of course, I do,” Bebe scoffed, flipping her hair back, “Which is why I’m saying it seems odd that he would just run off to make out with Kyle during a fucking field trip.”

Stan… making out with Kyle… field trip? What the hell were they talking about? Is that what everyone thought happened when they had disappeared? Beneath the hood, he could feel his face flush from embarrassment.

“What? You’d rather them be fighting?” Red questioned, “They’re just gonna drag the whole class down in their petty bullshit. I'm hoping it was some kind of hook up.” Stan couldn’t help but lean in closer, trying to figure out what they were even talking about They were so causally about it, the idea of Stan and Kyle, together. Was he really that obvious? It was one thing for Cartman to be a dick and tease him about it, but for people he was- at best- acquaintances with to talk about it nonchalantly… does that mean that Kyle-

“I was starting to think unrequited confession,” Bebe suggested, “At least then…” Her voice trailed off, thought unfinished. Stan scowled to himself, and decided to look over, seeing what could have interrupted them. The second he did, he was met with the judgmental glare of both Bebe and Red.

Shit.

“Uhh, hi?” he waved, chuckling awkwardly, not entirely sure if they were mad at him for listening in. Their faces remained unchanged as he spoke, making him wonder if they managed to understand what he had said.

“Did you need something, Kenny?” Red asked. Stan shook his head, every impulse in his body telling him he should leave before he finds out something he doesn’t want to know. Before he could make a choice, he saw Bebe’s eyes light up, a devious smirk forming on her face.

“Hold on, Red, he might know something,” She looked him up and down, a determined look in her eyes.

“Know what?” Stan asked, cautiously. This was dangerous territory, trying to get in the middle of a rumor about himself. But if Kyle got wind that people thought the two of them were together… let’s just say Stan wasn’t exactly ready for that confrontation just yet.

“About what’s going on between Stan and Kyle,” Bebe answered, like it was obvious, “You saw the two of them run off during the field trip, right?”

Stan furrowed his brow. Just him and Kyle? That didn’t sound right. “Like, during that break they gave us?”

“No, no, right before the trip was over,” Red corrected, “We were at the last stop on the tour and Stan, like, dragged Kyle away from the group. Did you not notice?”

Dragging Kyle away, he tried to think back to the trip, that didn’t… wait no, he didn’t drag Kyle, Kyle dragged Cartman away.

Kyle dragged Cartman away?

Why the fuck would he do that? He hates having to spend one-on-one time with Cartman, why would he voluntarily put himself in that position? What could he possibly say to Cartman that he couldn’t talk to the rest of them about?

Stan shook his head, “I, uh, I didn’t notice.”  

Bebe frowned, “Huh, bummer,” She started to check her nail beds, “But you’re close to them, right? Haven’t they been acting… weird today?”

Panic ran through Stan like an electric shock, and he slammed the locker closed. “There’s nothing going on, everything’s totally normal!” he blurted out, lying out his ass. Based on their judgmental stares, Stan figured neither Red nor Bebe believed him.

He wouldn’t have believed himself either, to be fair.

“Okay, whatever, Ken,” Red chuckled to herself, taking out her phone to mindlessly scroll, “See you in class, Bebe.” She gave a small wave before walking past him down the hallway. He had expected Bebe to follow suit, but he was more surprised as the blonde girl got closer, arms crossed. She looked him up and down once again, before a smile settled on her face.

“You’ve been pretty buddy-buddy with Stan today,” She commented, “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I didn’t think you had any personal stake in his and Kyle’s relationship. Something change?”

Stan felt more confused than he had been at the start of the conversation. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

Bebe scowled, another comment right on the tip of her tongue, but she stopped herself. “Never mind,” she sighed, “Guess I heard wrong. I honestly didn’t take you to be the home-wrecker type, McCormick.” She straightened out the strap of her messenger bag, and walked off down the hallway, leaving Stan dumbfound by the lockers.

Why would Kenny be a homewrecker if he was hanging out with Stan? What had she meant by personal stake in his and Kyle’s relationship? Why was everyone being so fucking vague today?!

He sighed, knowing full well this was just the tip of the goddamn iceberg. As he turned around ready to head off to class, a bright blue jacket came into view and nearly collided with him. He jumped back in surprise, crashing against the lockers as the figured froze in panic, allowing Stan to recognize him. Butters.

“Oh, hamburgers, I’m sorry, Kenny!” The blond profusely apologized. “I thought you woulda heard me coming.”

Heartbeat still rushing from the mild jump scare, Stan shook his head. “It’s all good, Butters. Just was distracted, that’s all.”

Butters smiled in relief as he answered. “That’s good to hear. I saw you leaving lunch earlier and I was worried you weren’t doing so well.”

Stan raised an eyebrow. Why would Butters be so concerned about Kenny? He didn’t think the two were that close, but it wouldn’t be the first revelation of the day. “I’m fine,” he answered flatly, “Did you need something?”

For some reason, that question seemed to catch Butters off guard, his face flushed as he fiddled with his hands, sputtering some half assed excuse, “Oh, no I just, uh, well I was just… checking in, ya know, didn't want to bother- not that talking to you is the same as bothering you, I just..." by the time his face was the color of a tomato he blurted out, “I’ll see you in gym!” as he sprinted down the hallway, almost crashing into several of their classmates.

Okay, and now Butters was acting weird.

There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that Butters acting weird had something to do with whatever deal he made with Kenny this morning. That didn’t excuse his behavior, but it was the only question he had an answer for, so Stan wasn’t gonna complain about that. His outburst also served as a reminder of his schedule. Next period, gym.

Gym was for sure going to be interesting. It was the only class the four of them had together, and while that normally wasn’t bad, Stan knew it wasn’t going to go over well while they were all switched. He wasn’t sure what the adjustment period for being in a new body was supposed to be, but he knew they all weren’t going to get over that before gym. Doubling on Stan’s exhaustion from lack of sleep the night before, the idea of physical activity while pretending to Kenny was terrifying.

The bell signaling the start of passing period rang out just as he made his way to the locker room, finding it crowded with the rest of the boys from his class. Given their fight during lunch, he figured Kyle and Cartman would have gotten there earlier, but he couldn’t spot either of them as he weaved in between the guys towards Kenny’s gym locker.

It shouldn’t have been that shocking. Kyle was usually early, getting changed so far ahead of time that he was all ready by the time the rest of them got there. Guess it made sense that he would want to stick to his routine even if they were switched, but it didn’t change the fact that he was no where to found. And it didn’t explain where Cartman was either.

He pulled out Kenny’s phone once he got to the gym locker, stuck in between Craig and Tolkien chatting, putting in the combo Kenny had texted last night in preparation for them to still be stuck in the wrong bodies today. He felt ridiculous, having to double check that he was at the right locker. It took him two attempts at the combination before he was able to get into it, all while the guys around him were already filing out to the gym. Kenny’s locker was closer to the entrance, so he was able to keep track of everyone who passed by, hoping to maybe catch a glance of his own body, or even Kyle’s.

Instead, he only managed to catch Kenny’s eye once again, Kenny himself leaning against the nearby locker stack as Stan pulled the gym shirt down. The uniform he had wasn’t exactly made for the guy, probably a hand-me-down from his older brother, so the shirt hung loosely on his body. He pulled the torn-up sneakers out of the locker as he turned toward Kenny.

“Things go okay after I left?” he asked as he slipped the well-worn shoes on his feet.

“Do you want me to lie to you?” Kenny replied, eyes following the last of the guys in the locker room.

Stan sighed, plopping himself down on one of the benches that spilt the way of the walls of lockers. “What the hell was Kyle getting so worked up about, dude? I mean, was does that guy have over him anyway?”

Kenny frowned, “He said something about all of us having secrets this morning, but I think he was just trying to be a dick.”

“Me and Kyle don’t have secrets,” Stan argued, lying through his fucking teeth. He wanted to think that Kyle would tell him everything, but telling secrets was a two-way street, and as of late, there were a few things that Stan was keeping close to his chest. And if Kyle’s secret conversation with Cartman was any indicator, there must be things Kyle was keeping from him, too. Something that Cartman was hanging over Kyle’s head if his threats from lunch were to be believed. What exactly, Stan wasn’t sure.

“Dude, stop stressing, you’re gonna give me worry lines,” Kenny said, nudging him on the shoulder as he closed his tiny gym locker.

“For a guy who wears a parka covering his face twenty-four seven, I wouldn’t think you’d be that vain,” Stan laughed.

“Oh, I’m just full of surprises,” Kenny winked and made his way out of the locker room. Stan shook his head in disbelief but followed suit.

Exiting the locker room, Stan immediately noticed Kyle… or rather Cartman. His eyes were immediately drawn to the red head, and he had to remind himself that it wasn’t actually Kyle. Thankfully, he didn’t have to look too far for Kyle, seeing his own body standing in front of Cartman. Based on the scowl on Cartman’s face, Stan figured the two had been talking about something.

A small part of his mind wondered if it was related to the something they had talked about in the bathroom during the field trip. The talk they had while Stan hadn’t even noticed they were gone.

He got that sick feeling in his stomach, a tug at his gut which only Kyle could cause. Without waiting for Kenny, he made his way towards the pair, hoping he might catch the last part of their conversation. As he got closer, Cartman seemed to catch his eye, instantly cutting himself off. Kyle took notice and turned around, the scowl on his face easing up as he caught Stan’s eye.

“Hi, dude,” Kyle greeted, adjusting himself so that he was fully facing Stan, “Sorry about lunch, I was just- “

“Hey, I get it, not like it was anything new,” Stan quickly waved off the apology, “Just needed to get away for a bit.”

“What? Couldn’t handle a little lover’s spat?” Cartman interjected, clearly annoyed that he was being cut out of the conversation. Kyle rolled his eyes but didn’t engage.

“But you were telling me something, about what happened during passing period and I didn't let you finish and,” Kyle’s brows upturned in sympathy, a familiar look that made Stan smile, a look so clearly Kyle, “I might have been pissed off, but that doesn’t mean I get to act like a dick.” His eyes darted over to Cartman, who frowned at the comment. Stan couldn’t help but laugh at the reaction, earning a more genuine smile from Kyle.

“I mean, I wouldn’t say you were acting like a dick, but fair enough. I can tell you the story now to make up for it,” Stan offered, to which Kyle smiled and nodded. He felt that tug on his gut vanish at the smile. “Okay, so I think I got up to the ceiling light? Anyway, Kenny pulls me outta the way and- “

“Alright, kids, everyone hustle to the front!” Their gym teacher announced, blowing his whistle to grab the attention of the distracted seventh graders.

“You’ve got to be shitting me,” Stan groaned, making Kyle laugh.

“It’s fine dude, you can just tell me later,” He placed a hand on Stan’s shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze before walking towards the front of the gym. Stan’s hand subconsciously drifted to the shoulder Kyle had touched, smiling as he watched Kyle walk away with the rest of the students. For every failed attempt to grab Kyle’s hand, there was a moment like that, a moment that in all actuality was unimportant but would probably play on repeat in his mind as he tried to fall asleep that night.

Cartman cleared his throat, pulling Stan from his thoughts, arms crossed as he stood in the same place Kyle had just been.

“That was pretty gay,” Cartman joked, smirking mischievously. The look didn’t suit Kyle’s face, giving Stan an uneasy feeling in his stomach. Just what did that bastard know? What the hell did he have over Kyle? “Good to know you both can still have your little bonding moments, huh?”

“Shut up,” Stan grumbled, falling into the movement of the students all heading to the front, vaguely aware that Cartman was somewhere behind him. He suddenly remembered he had ditched Kenny earlier, but he couldn’t spot him from his place in the group. Must be somewhere near the front with Kyle, he thought.

“Okay, class, were almost at the end of the volleyball unit, so were gonna break off into teams and start playing some real games. This will be practice for the final at the end of the week,” their teacher explained, “I’ve got the teams assigned right here.” He gestured to the clipboard in his hand and began reading off the lists of names.

“Tolkien, Craig, Clyde, Scott, Kenny, Bradley, you’re all team one,” he ran through the names quickly, “Up against Kyle, Stan, Tweek, Andrew, David, Kevin. Head back to the first court.”

Stan scowled as he tried to place just who was with who, swapping out his own name, and his friends names in his head. Mapping out the swap wasn’t hard, it was circular, start with one of them, end with that same person, but it made names tricky. Regardless, he did manage to figure out he was with the first group.

The tweens broke off into their teams, Stan finally able to spot Kyle again as they made their way to the same net. While part of him was disappointed that he wasn’t on the same team as Kyle, the rest of him was slightly terrified. The guy was deadly competitive, and Stan knew how into these mock matches he was. He had made Clyde cry once before, so Stan knew he didn’t necessarily have the strongest team backing him.

The only thing Stan’s team had going for him was that the opposing team was stuck with Cartman. It wasn’t a secret that people hating being teamed up with him, whether it be because of his bad attitude or because he never put any effort in helping but would complain for ages if he lost. But the other team had no idea they were stuck with Cartman because of the body swap. The only person who knew was Kyle and based on the frown on Kyle’s face as his team gathered, Stan could tell the guy was frustrated with the cards he was delt. After the good morning he seemed to have had, seeing Kyle finally look as frustrated as the rest of them felt made Stan feel a bit guilty.

The first match went by without much fuss. Stan’s team had the ball first, Tolkien severing. They had a good volley going, despite Cartman making a point to always back away from the ball when it got close. This meant Kyle had to pick up the slack, darting across the court to make sure the ball wouldn’t fall. His brow was knit in concentration, his eyes never leaving the ball. Stan wouldn’t say he was as committed to the game, but he was able to contribute whenever it got closer to his position.

Things were going okay until Cartman was finally unable to avoid the ball, not realizing it was heading in his direction when Kyle collided into him, knocking them both over as the ball sailed past their heads. They landed with a loud thud, everyone ooo-ing in sympathy.

“Get the fuck off of me!” Cartman yelped, shoving Kyle off him with more determination than he had put into the whole game, brushing his clothes off as he stood up. Kyle rolled his eyes, grabbing the ball before walking up to Cartman.

“Will you please focus on the game?” He snapped, tossing the ball back over to Stan’s team.

“You ran into me. If anyone needs to focus, it’s you,” Cartman sneered, making his way back to his position.

“Jesus, what is with those two?” Clyde asked under his breath.

“Whatever it is, it’s letting us win, so I’m not complaining,” Craig answered. It was true, unfortunately. With Kyle and Cartman still at odds, their team wasn’t doing too hot. Stan wouldn’t say it was entirely their fault, Tweek wasn’t great at volleyball either, but he could see Craig’s point.

This is why Bebe and Red thought something had happened, he finally pieced together as Tolkien started the next volley, him and Kyle weren’t ever this petty, what else were they supposed to think was going on?

There was still the question of why Red thought they were making out in the bathroom, though.

The game was going by fast, Stan not realizing it was the other team’s turn to serve the ball until someone on their team yelled out to rotate. As he watched them all switch places, he felt unease build up in his stomach when he realized who was given the ball. Cartman. He spun the ball around in his hands, clearly upset that he had to put in actual effort into the game.

The rotation made it so Kyle was up by the net, his back to the rest of his team. He locked eyes with Stan, smiling and giving Stan his best game face. Stan returned the look as best he could, mouthing to Kyle, “You’re going down.”

Kyle chucked to himself mouthing back, “You wish.”

“Kyle, are you gonna serve the ball or what?” Tolkien asked, clearly annoyed that the game was at a standstill. The rest of Stan’s team started to voice their complaints about getting on with the game. Stan didn’t mind the delay if it meant messing around with Kyle for two seconds, but he looked back at Cartman to see what the holdup was.

Cartman scowled at the noise, and rolled his eyes, “I’m getting there, calm down.” He readjusted his positioning multiple times, visibly unsure as to how exactly he was supposed to get the ball to the other side of the net. Stan guessed the guy had been able to avoid actually playing the game until this point. Eventually, he settled on a stance, prepping the ball in his left hand.

Had Stan not been watching closely, he wouldn’t have caught it. The glint in Cartman's eyes as he looked from the ball to Kyle. Oh shit, he thought, eyes widening in panic as Cartman tossed the ball up and spiked it down, aiming directly for Kyle’s back. The ball hit Kyle with a deafening smack, knocking him down as he yelped in surprise and pain. Both teams gasped in shock, Stan not even taking a moment to think before he was already rushing to the other side of the net.

“What the fuck is your problem?!” Kyle exclaimed, standing up, ready to throw hands if not for Stan getting to his side at that moment, holding his best friend back. Cartman took a few steps back, putting up his hands in surrender.

“It was an accident, Stan, promise,” he explained, but the sympathy in his voice sounded forced, and he was having a hard time holding back a smile, pleased with himself. That fucker.

“Alright, boys, break it up,” the gym teacher rushed over, standing in-between the two of them, “What happened?”

“He tried to break my back!” Kyle snapped, nearly slipping from Stan’s grasp.

Cartman faked gasped, “I wasn’t aiming for Stan! I just miss timed the serve, still working on my overhead, you know?”

“He actually remembers the terms for this shit?” Stan muttered under his breath, not sure if he was impressed with Cartman’s ability to bullshit or annoyed because of course he would try to talk his way out of getting in trouble. Well… technically getting Kyle in trouble.

Stan realized too little too late that’s why Cartman was being such a prick, and why Kyle was getting so pissed. Kyle’s permanent record might not be perfect- a few detentions here and there mostly because he never really got along with PC Principal- but Cartman was no stranger to getting in trouble. It was a real dick way to get under Kyle’s skin, but damn was it smart.

“McCormick, go back to your team, I’ll handle these two,” their teacher turned towards Stan, motioning for him to back off.

“But- “

“Go back, now.”

He looked over at Kyle, who was still fuming, then to Cartman, then back to their teacher. Without another complaint, he dropped Kyle’s arm, which did get Kyle’s attention, turning to Stan with pleading eyes.

“Sorry, dude,” He apologized, taking his time as he walked back. Kyle’s shoulders dropped, but he didn’t say much as him and Cartman were pulled off to the side of the gym, leaving both teams in a stand still while the other group continued their game.

“Kenny, dude, what happened with those two?” Clyde was the first to approach him as he got to the other side of the net, looking back at the pair being scolded.

“I don’t know,” Stan answered. It felt like the first truthful thing he’d say all day. He wondered if they got into some fight while at Kyle’s house yesterday, or if this really had something to do with whatever they had talked about back during the field trip. Stan didn’t like not knowing, especially since it seemed to really bother Kyle if he was this on edge.

“That was brutal to watch,” Craig piped up, he had somehow got a hold of the volleyball, running his fingers along the seams, “Don’t think I’ve seen them this at odds since fourth grade.”

“They’re not fighting!” Stan snapped.

Craig wasn’t convinced, raising an eyebrow, “Then what the fuck was Kyle doing aiming for Stan?”

“He just…” his voice faltered. He didn’t know why he was trying to cover it up like this. If people thought that him and Stan were fighting, when they switch back, they could tell people they talked things out. But he didn’t like the idea of people assuming things about the two of them, about him. “It might just be a friend thing. They’re weird like that.”

Tolkien laughed at the suggestion, “Yeah, and the constant bickering is how they have conversations,” he added, sarcastically.

“That’s not entirely wrong, though,” Clyde contemplated the statement. Behind him, Stan watched Craig looked between the ball in his hands and the back of Clyde’s head. It wasn’t the exact light blub moment that Cartman had earlier, but Stan knew exactly what was going to happen. Craig chuckled the ball- slightly less aggressive than Cartman’s spike- hitting Clyde in the head. “OW!” he exclaimed, “The fuck, Craig?”

“What? Apparently, it’s what friends do,” Craig locked eyes with Stan, his usually unphased face smiling slightly, like this was some kind of inside joke between the two. Stan didn’t think Kenny and Craig were friends like that, but in all fairness, Stan never really hung out with Craig, the guy just rubbed him the wrong way ever since Peru.

“I mean if we want to make a direct comparison, I feel like you should have thrown it at Tweek,” Tolkien joked, snatching the volleyball from the floor before Craig could make him his next target.

Craig scoffed, crossing his arms, “I’m not gonna throw a volleyball at Tweek, I’m not a monster.”

“Oh, so I can be collateral damage?” Clyde asked, eyes watering, still rubbing the back of his head.

Stan scowled as the three of them kept arguing, Craig trying to take the ball back from Tolkien to throw it Clyde once again. Would the better comparison to Stan and Kyle really be Tweek and Craig? The lone gay couple in school?

It reminded him of Bebe and Red’s conversation. How they so quickly and easily could suggest that Stan and Kyle had made out, or that there was some kind of confession. Did people always talk about him and Kyle like this? Or rather, did people talk about them like that when they weren’t around? Was the whole school in on some big joke? Talking about Stan and Kyle like they were together in some attempt to get Stan’s hopes up?

His stomach dropped, the uncomfortable tug on his gut he felt earlier returned. He looked back over to Kyle and Cartman, still getting lectured. Was Kyle in on this too? Was that what Kyle had talked to Cartman about? Making sure everyone was on the same page about fucking with Stan?

Calm the fuck down, he told himself, Kyle wouldn’t do that to you.

But then again… what else would Kyle be hiding from him?

Chapter Text

While Kyle had half expected Cartman to make his life a living nightmare, he honestly thought the guy would be more subtle, or at least, maybe not go all out day fucking one. Being an asshole was one thing, his typical arrogant behavior was the norm at this point, but Kyle drew the line of being physically assaulted with a fucking volleyball.

Though, he supposed his antics weren’t going on during the whole day. It really started during lunch. Kyle was to blame for that, he could admit. He hadn’t meant to get pissy and get on Cartman’s nerves, but there was only so much he could take. Only so much he could put a brave face on for, like everything was alright when it definitely wasn’t.

It wasn’t even about him almost outing Kyle to the group, though it would still be understandable given the fucker promised he wouldn’t, but rather the set of issues that came with being in Stan’s body. Namely, the slight throbbing headache in the back of his mind. It was dull, and if he paid enough attention to his surroundings, he would forget about it, but it persisted. Not even the couple of ibuprofen he took this morning when he woke up were able to combat it.

He didn’t want to bring it up to Stan though, the guy seemed pretty frazzled since this morning, and there really wasn’t a time to bring it up before then.

So maybe he took his frustrations out on Cartman. What else is new?

He didn’t realize they had been going at it for very long. Not until Cartman tried to drag Stan into their lunch debacle. He was trying to insinuate that Kyle was a hypocrite because he threw just as many hissy fits as Cartman did (Kyle laughed right in his face, of course), and after scrambling for some second defense, Cartman realized that he would have more ammunition if he dragged in the others.

“Well, if you’re so damn sure of yourself, maybe we can ask your boyfriend if he feels the same way!” Cartman spat, dramatically turning his head towards Stan like he was some case winning evidence, but the smirk on his face fell almost instantly. Kyle scowled in confusion, following his eyes to where Stan was- or rather had been- sitting. His stomach dropped as he realized the seat was empty. Why would Stan leave without saying anything?

“Oh, so you’ve finally noticed,” Kenny said, his head resting on his crossed arms on the table. He looked bored out of his mind.

“Where did Stan go?” Kyle asked, looking around the cafeteria in hopes that maybe he was still lingering around.

Kenny shrugged, sitting back up. “Left a bit ago. Think he was annoyed that you guys were fighting.”

“Jesus, he’s such a drama queen,” Cartman rolled his eyes as both Kenny and Kyle turned to him in confusion.

“I’m sorry, he’s the drama queen?” Kenny asked, “Did you comprehend anything you and Kyle were just fighting about?”

“Who fucking side are you on?!” Cartman snapped back.

“No one’s! There’s no sides! You’re just acting like a bitch!”

“You’re the one who’s the bitch!”

Kyle dragged a hand down his face. This was getting way out of hand. At least to the outside observer, the fight made more sense.

Wait. Shit, that must have been why Stan left. Kyle fighting with Cartman after the swap made it seemed like him and Stan were having some kind of falling out. If he was in Stan’s shoes, he wouldn’t want to watch him fight his best friend. But why not say anything? It’s not like they were on some sort of time crunch before their next class-

Oh fuck. Their next class. Gym.

He checked the time on his phone. It was dangerously close to the end on lunch. On a normal day, this wouldn’t be ideal, but Kyle’s current circumstance made it even worse. He couldn’t exactly explain to Kenny why he needed to get Cartman there earlier without sounding like a lunatic, but just letting them argue until the bell rang wasn’t ideal either. Kyle bit his lip, gauging just what the best way to get them to the gym without raising suspicions would be. The time on his phone changed, another minute passing. He didn’t have time to think about this.

“Guys!” He exclaimed, quickly interrupting their bickering, “I, uh, need to grab something from my locker.”

Cartman scowled, “Okay, then go. You don’t need to announce your every thought.”

Kyle rolled his eyes, and stood from the table, “I mean my locker, dipshit.” He grabbed Cartman by the collar of his shirt and dragged him away from the table. Cartman yelped at the sudden movement, dragging his feet on the ground as Kyle took him out of the cafeteria, grumbling curses and insults under his breath. Kenny raised an eyebrow, but didn’t follow, which Kyle was grateful for. As they turned the corner towards the gym, Cartman’s complains became comprehensive.

“You are being so dramatic!” Cartman tried to pry Kyle’s fingers from his shirt, “Your locker’s not even in this direction!”

“Just shut up, will you!” Kyle snapped through gritted teeth, stopping dead in his tracks to grab Cartman by the wrist with his other hand. He seemed somewhat surprised by the sudden change, eyes widening as Kyle got closer. He even stopped trying to squirm away. “I need to you to listen to me, and not fight me on this for the next ten minutes. Got it?”

Cartman’s shock didn’t seem to last for very long, the startled look in his eyes fading as he blinked, turning into frustration. “Oh god, was there shit you forgot to tell me?” he groaned.

Kyle scowled but continued pulling Cartman down the hallway. He didn’t fight Kyle on the matter this time, letting him drag him around by his wrist. Kyle didn’t let go until they reached the locker rooms, which were as abandoned as they always were before the lunch bell rang. Not that they had much time before that happened. He would be cutting it pretty close.

Kyle opened his gym locker, shoving his uniform in Cartman’s unprepared arms. Before he could get a word out, Kyle grabbed him by the arm again and took him to the other end of the locker room, to the toilet stalls. “Get changed in there.”

“What?” Cartman scowled. “What the hell for? There’s no one here- “

“Yet. There’s no one here yet,” Kyle interrupted, “What did I say earlier about fighting me on this?”

He aggressively rolled his eyes, but complied, dragging his feet slightly as he walked into the stall, locking it behind him. Kyle felt a bit more relived, at least he wasn’t going to go out of his way to out Kyle. He had been worried with what he had said in front of the group earlier. Who knew what the others thought he had been talking about, all Kyle knew was that him getting caught off guard made Stan worried, and that meant he was going to start asking questions.

He just needed to throw them off the scent a little, figure out something Cartman could have been referencing. Maybe something to do with his mom? Cartman always hated her, so that could work, but it felt too basic, too expected. Maybe some health-related issue? Lying about that felt wrong, mostly because he knew Stan would flip his shit if there was something wrong with Kyle.

There really wasn’t any reason for them to think that he was trans right off the bat, but it sure didn’t feel that way. He wasn’t sure how much longer he had before a short haircut wouldn’t count for passing.

“Is wearing this thing why you always have a stick up your ass?” Cartman’s whining brought Kyle back to reality.

“Are you done or not?” Kyle asked. Regardless of how he answered Cartman, he knew he was gonna get some smartass reply, and he was ready to put their earlier fight to bed, get on with the rest of his day.

The lock on the stall clicked as the door flung open, and Cartman stepped out, his day clothes in a messy pile in his arms, his hat sitting on top. “And would you look at that,” he glanced past Kyle to the locker room, “It’s still fucking empty, you paranoid bastard.”

Kyle exhaled through his nose, biting back a scream of frustration. “Rather be paranoid than caught.”

“God, that makes it sound like you get here early to jack off or something,” Cartman chuckled, “Well I guess, not jack off, but- “

“Finish that sentence and I will choke you out.”

Cartman looked him up and down, before smirking, “Kinky bastard.”

Kyle smacked him upside the head and walked over to Stan’s locker. Cartman wasn’t so easily stopped, and the sound of Kyle’s sneakers quickly followed him back to the locker rows.

“Hey! I was just fucking around, what’s your problem today, jew?” He instigated.

“You! You’re the problem!” Kyle snapped, the tiny locker door slamming open. “Why the fuck did you say that shit in front of everybody? I thought we had a deal!”

Cartman scoffed, “Oh please, I haven’t cashed in anything yet. So long as I don’t say it out right, I’m still in the bounds of our agreement.”

“I’m sorry, ‘bounds of our agreement’? We didn’t draft up a fucking document!” Kyle exclaimed, “You don’t get to write up the fucking terms and conditions!”

“Why? Because you won’t read them? We both know you’ve got a bit of a history with that.”

Kyle was stunned into silence. There was a low blow and then there was… bringing that up.

“If it bothers you that much, I could stop, for a price,” Cartman’s face was broken out into a malicious grin, making him look like Kyle’s evil twin, rather than Kyle himself.

“And owe you more shit? I’ll pass,” Kyle turned around hoping that not looking at his own body would make having to change slightly less awkward. That and he wasn’t in the mood to give Cartman any more ammunition. Disengaging at this point was the best option.

“Fine, have it your way, we’ll see how that goes,” he didn’t sound too pleased, but didn’t push any further. Kyle even heard the squeak of his sneakers indicating him leaving the locker room. He let out a sigh of relief, letting his head rest on the lockers in front of him for a moment.

He hoped Butters was able to find out more about that damn electron swap machine than he was able to. Kyle needed this to be over with, sooner rather than later, otherwise he might just have to kill Cartman, and who knows how that would fuck with the swap back.

With a sigh he took off his jacket, ready to take his shirt off when he paused. Other people were starting to walk in. His own muscle memory made him freeze up, panicking at the thought of other people being around, his heartbeat accelerating slightly.

Calm down dumbass, he thought to himself, this is supposed to be normal, Stan does this all the time. Man up.

Before he could stop himself, he took his shirt off, hands fumbling around the locker as he tried to find the shirt for the gym uniform, trying to not be exposed for too long. The hairs on the back on his neck stood up, like he was being watched, but a glance over his shoulder proved otherwise. He shoved the shirt on, hands instinctively smoothing out the material on his chest, making sure everything laid flat.

But there wasn’t any need to do that in Stan’s body. No need to make sure his binder didn’t show from the collar of his shirt. No need to worry if the material was too thin or tight enough that people could make it out. He could just… exist in his body. Forget all the extras steps and anxieties.

If he was anywhere other than the fucking locker room, Kyle might have cried. Even with so many people around, he could fell tears well up in his eyes, which he quickly wiped away.

He really hadn’t had time to really process the one- the only- upside to this whole messed up game. Things just felt… right. He couldn’t think of a better word for it, or something more profound. Mostly because any positive thought was immediately buried by the overwhelming reminder that none of this was permanent. None of this was his. He wasn’t himself. He was Stan.

Kyle shouldn’t get his hopes up. Even if he got the surgeries, got the hormones, it wouldn’t be like this. This was as close as he was going to get, and the sooner he was able to remind himself that, the better it would be for him.

He finished getting changed, trying to turn off his thoughts the best he could, and walked out to the gym. He still couldn’t shake the feeling that people were watching him, like in the locker room, but unlike then, he was able to catch someone.

Wendy. Standing off with Bebe and Red near the bleachers. He wasn’t sure how long she had been looking, but the second their eyes met, she looked away, turning back to Bebe next to her. Weird, he thought to himself, what could she want?

Before he could consider approaching her to ask if something was up, he heard a familiar voice behind him. His own voice.

“I just want to make one thing clear,” Cartman questioned “You don’t want to make any amendments to our deal?”

Kyle groaned, and turned to face him, confused at the lack of enjoyment in Cartman’s face. He seemed genuinely curious, which made Kyle worried there was something up his sleeve. “I don’t see why you being an asshole means I have to owe you more shit.”

“Hey! I’m a man of my word!” Cartman argued, crossing his arms, “I’m just going along with what we promised. I’m being generous by allowing you to change the terms so late into the deal.”

“Generous isn’t the word I would use,” Kyle grumbled.

“Oh I think we both know that what I’ve been doing as been tame for me,” Cartman’s tone was on the verge of threatening, “But if you’re so damn sure-“ he cut himself off, eyes drifting past Kyle, to someone behind.

Confused, Kyle turned around, half surprised and grateful to be met with Stan. 

“Hi dude,” he greeted, feeling his body relax knowing he didn’t have to keep up conversation with Cartman. That tension was quickly replaced with guilt from earlier, remembering why Stan had ditched them during lunch, “Sorry about lunch, I was just- “

“Hey, I get it, not like it was anything new,” Stan interrupted, waving his hand dismissively. “Just needed to get away for a bit.”

That didn’t make Kyle feel any better. It more confirmed just why he thought Stan had left.

“What? Couldn’t handle a little lover’s spat?” Cartman piped up. Kyle rolled his eyes. Couldn’t that fucker read the room for two fucking seconds?

“But you were telling me something, about what happened during passing period and I didn’t let you finish and,” Kyle took in a breath to stop himself from rambling, “I might have been pissed off, but that doesn’t mean I get to act like a dick.” He shot a glare back to Cartman, noting his annoyed scowl as he looked back to Stan, who laughed at the motion. Kyle didn’t try fighting back the smile. At least Stan wasn’t totally pissed at him.

“I mean, I wouldn’t say you were acting like a dick, but fair enough,” Stan countered, “I can tell you the story now to make up for it.” Kyle nodded as Stan left off where had been, not even getting a full sentence out before the gym teacher blew his whistle, yelling at the students to signify the start of class.

“You’ve got to be shitting me,” Stan grumbled as their peers passed by.

Kyle laughed, “It’s fine dude, you can just tell me later.” He squeezed his shoulder reassuringly and started heading to the front of the gym. He didn’t realize Stan hadn’t been following until he was near the front, locked into the crowd and no Stan in sight. He somehow managed to get next to Kenny, who was looking him up and down inquisitively.

“You get what you needed from your locker?” He asked.

“What?” Kyle frowned. Kenny raised an eyebrow, and Kyle quickly remembered just what he was talking about. “Oh, right, yeah. Figured we would just head to class together, you know?”

“And he seriously went along with that?” Kenny scoffed, lowering his voice as their teacher began his lecture, “I’m more surprised you would want to spend time with him after your little argument during lunch.”

“Just what are you implying, dude?”

“I’m not implying shit,” Kenny glanced around to make sure no one was paying them any attention, “I’m just saying, you sneaking around is freaking out your boyfriend.”

Kyle’s heart skipped a beat. “Stan’s not-“ his denial was interrupted by hearing his own name being called out for teams. It was immediately followed by Stan’s, which was a relief, he hadn’t missed anything important. He shot Kenny a glare before he headed off with the rest of his team that was called out. He had enough to deal with after Cartman’s weird comments, the last thing he needed was Kenny being a smug asshole.

And it turned out, Cartman’s threats weren’t as thinly veiled as Kyle had assumed they were. The bruise that was sure to form on his back was a sign of that. Getting the both of them in trouble while also ensuring he wouldn’t have to keep playing volleyball and causing drama amongst their class? It was so tactful Kyle was surprised that Cartman was able to think of in-between the start of class and the beginning of the first match.

As punishment for roughhousing- which Kyle was positive they both weren’t guilty of but whatever- the two had to sit against the gym wall for the next couple of matches until they “came to an agreement” and “cooled down”. It was embarrassing, all their peers looking over and whispering, wondering just what this whole thing could be about. All because Cartman was exploiting a loophole in their original deal. His weakness really was terms and conditions, wasn’t it? Damn.

Class passed by painfully slow, neither of them engaging in conversation as the gym teacher walked by every few minutes. Kyle wondered if Cartman was going to keep this up for the rest of the week. How many more volleyballs to the back would he have to take before they both got detention? Would it stop after gym? What else could he have planned? Fucking with Kyle, fine, expected, but he couldn’t just sit there and let Cartman drag down Stan’s record just to get the better of Kyle.

He was going to regret this, he thought. But what other choice did he have at this point?

Kyle sighed heavily, and turned to Cartman, “What is it gonna take?”

Cartman blinked in surprise, either not expecting Kyle to talk to him, or to bring up the deal at all. “I’m sorry, I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he answered sarcastically, eyebrows upturned in fake empathy, “What is what gonna take, Kyle?”

“What do you want me to do to stop fucking with me,” Kyle said through gritted teeth, “To not keep hinting at it in front of everyone.”

“Hint at what?” He was still giving Kyle that stupid look like he really had no idea, to which Kyle only glared. “Okay, fine, figured it wouldn’t work a second time.” He grumbled under his breath.

“Just tell me what so I don’t have to sit against this damn wall for the rest of class.”

“I was getting there, jeez,” Cartman tried to run his hands through hair, but still was completely unsure how to even begin to deal with Kyle’s hair and gave up the second his fingers got all tangled. “I was thinking you could get something of Stan’s for me.”

Kyle raised an eyebrow, “Like what?”

“Like a journal, diary, something where he would write down his most private and intimate thoughts.”

“Fuck no!” Kyle cursed, quietly as their gym teacher circled close by. “I’m not betraying Stan’s privacy to satisfy some stupid plan you have!”

“I didn’t say you have to read it,” Cartman quickly retorted, “I just need you to get it to me. It’s a pretty tame request if you ask me.”

“Which is why I’m not jumping at the opportunity,” Kyle grumbled, “Your favors usually involve me embarrassing myself in front of the whole school, so forgive me for being overly cautious when given an oddly simple request.”

“Oh, I can make it far more embarrassing if you would like,” Cartman smirked, “Did you ever think that maybe I’m throwing you a bone, Kyle? Because if you can’t even do the simplest task to keep your secret, then you must not really care about how I get to tell everyone the second I’m back in my own skin.”

Kyle’s blood ran cold. The image flashed in his mind, posters made buy Cartman plastered all over the school, covering the lockers top to bottom. His classmates laughing at him as he passed them by in the hallway, picking him apart because “they can always tell”. It was the same panic that ran through him back in the fourth grade, when Heidi kept calling him “Ms. Broflovski” and making announcements over the goddamn intercom for him to pick up his tampons.

His hands tightened into fists, fingernails digging in his palms.

“Fine, I’ll get Stan’s stupid diary for you,” he agreed, instantly getting a bad taste in his mouth. He looked back out to the kids in gym, quickly finding Stan still hanging with Craig, Clyde, and Tolkien. Stan deserved better than this. Better than him, willing to sell out his secrets so that Kyle could keep his. He was a shitty friend.

“Now that wasn’t so hard now, was it?” Cartman teased.

“Fuck you.”

The two of them were allowed to rejoin the rest of the class moments later, on different teams, thank goodness. Stan kept checking in on Kyle, apologizing for not doing something sooner, which normally Kyle would find sweet, heartwarming even. But now, Cartman’s favor consumed his thoughts, and everything Stan said to him made him feel even worse.

Would it feel worse to just… tell him the truth? Surely Stan would understand why Kyle hadn’t told him sooner. He was his best friend. His best friend… who he’s lied to for years.

You’ve deceived us, Cartman’s words echoed back to him in his mind.

No. He couldn’t risk it.

Not now.

The rest of the day was a blur, Stan’s classes were as underwhelming as Kyle had been expecting. They sat next to each other on the bus ride home, and Kyle was able to get the full story. Something about Stan almost being crushed by a ceiling light, it sounded a bit far-fetched if Kyle was being completely honest, but it seemed important to Stan that Kyle at least heard him out, so he didn’t mind listening. But that’s all he was really doing. Listening. By the time he had finished his story, Stan leaned back on the seat, and gave Kyle a concerning look.

“Everything okay, dude? You seem kind of down,” he asked.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m all good,” Kyle lied, shaking his head lightly, “It’s just been… a long day. That’s all.”

“If Cartman keeps being a dick, I’ll kick his ass,” Stan volunteered, tightening his fist like he was ready to jump the seat if given the command. He looked so serious, Kyle couldn’t help but laugh.

“And let you have all the fun? It’s fine, Stan, don’t worry,” he lowered Stan’s hand, “It’s not just Cartman. It’s just… exhausting to try to keep all this up.”

“Oh god, you’re so right,” Stan sunk further down the seat with an exhausted sigh, “I got caught up in some gossip from Bebe about me. It was so weird. Saying all these things about me to my face. I kind of lost it, dude.”

Kyle winced in sympathy. That couldn’t have been fun… but it did make him wonder. Is that why Wendy had been staring at him during gym? She had been with Bebe so maybe she told her something...

“Just wait until you have to cuss yourself out. Feels like some fucked up dream,” Kyle added.

“Man, if I have to cuss you out, I feel like there’s a lot bigger problems at that point,” Stan shook his head, almost in disbelief, “Unless you’re planning on trying to take me out with a volleyball anytime soon.”

“I feel like that would be pretty easy, but now you're expecting it, that's no fun."

Stan laughed, “It’s gonna take a lot more than a volleyball to get rid of me, Broflovski.”

“Oh? Is that a fucking challenge?” Kyle sat up straighter in his seat. Had this been any normal day, he would know instantly where Stan’s weak spots were. Tickling his sides would take him out instantly, with the added bonus of getting to hear Stan laugh. Sure, maybe Kenny was the same way, but something about it felt… off. His hesitation lined up almost perfectly with the bus rolling to a stop.

The smiles on their faces faded slowly as Stan stood up, waiting as Cartman and Kenny walked past him. “Good luck tonight, dude.” Stan gave a small wave goodbye as he followed the rest of their friends off the bus. Kyle gave a weak wave back. As he disappeared from his view, he turned to the window, watching as they all wandered from the bus stop. He never realized just how lonely riding the bus was. This morning had been tolerable, mostly because he was able to sneak in a quick nap from Stan’s stop to the one in town.

The other kids got dropped off shortly after, leaving just him and Tolkien for the rest of the long ride. Kyle was ready for it to be a quiet ride. Tolkien hadn’t started any conversations that morning, not that Kyle was really awake enough to contribute to any conversation at that point, but he couldn’t help but wonder about Stan and Tolkien’s relationship. They both seemed to get along great on their own- Kyle knew the two played Warhammer together- and Stan has thought of Tolkien as a friend since he moved up to the farm, but sometimes… sometimes Kyle would catch this look on Stan’s face, when they all hung out. He didn’t know where to place it, and whenever he asked, Stan usually deflected. Kyle didn’t want to overstep in their relationship, so he wasn’t gonna initiate anything on the off chance there was something else going on.

Thankfully, he didn’t have to worry about initiating anything.

“Your back doing okay?” Tolkien asked about ten minutes after the last remaining student got dropped off, leaving just the two of them. Kyle had been staring out the window, watching as the pine trees closer to town started to spread thin, being replaced with large fields of crops, the sudden sound of Tolkien’s voice made him jump. Tolkien had moved since he had gotten on the bus, now sitting in the seat across from Kyle.

Not wanting to seem rude, Kyle scooched to the aisle end of his seat. “Oh yeah, it’s all good now. Thanks.”

“Of course, man,” Tolkien smiled, “It looked brutally form the other side of the net. I’ve never seen Kyle fuck up a serve like that.”

Kyle scowled at the mention, “Yeah,” he dragged out, “Definitely wasn’t expecting it, that’s for sure.”

There was a pause in the conversation, Kyle unsure what else to say to Tolkien. It’s not like he could bitch about “Kyle” without making it obvious that it was actually Cartman.

“So,” Tolkien cleared his throat, “It was just an accident then? You and Kyle… you’re doing good?”

“Of course, we’re good,” Kyle felt himself get defensive, “Why wouldn’t we be?”

Tolkien opened his mouth to answer, but quickly closed it, stopping himself from saying whatever was on his mind. He looked to the side before turning back to Kyle. “It’s nothing, I’m not trying to pry or anything.”

Kyle immediately wanted to call bullshit. Clearly, he thought -or rather knew- that something was up. But what about Stan and Kyle could Tolkien not say to Stan’s face?

They sat in silence till they got to their stop, both of them had gotten off the bus when Tolkien grabbed Kyle by the shoulder. “You know you can tell me if something happened, right?”

Kyle’s brain froze, loading an error message as he processed what Tolkien was telling him. Did he really think whatever was going on was that serious?

“Uhh,” he watched as the bus drove off, clouds of dirt from the road following it, “Yeah, I know, dude.”

Tolkien paused, either waiting for Kyle to tell him something or just making sure Kyle knew he was being serious. Regardless, Kyle felt incredibly nervous. He doesn’t know he’s actually… no, how the fuck could he figure it out?

“Good,” he took his hand off Kyle and started walking towards his house across the road, “See you in the morning.”

“See ya,” Kyle’s voice was stuck in his throat. He suddenly knew just how Stan must have felt when Bebe was gossiping in front of his face. Was Tolkien really expecting Stan to have some kind of beef with Kyle? Maybe that was part of the rumor Bebe was creating. Something about him and Stan getting into some kind of fight. As wrong as it was, maybe Kyle could use it to his advantage, not have to hang out with Cartman as much. Not that he wanted people actually believing it. But if it helped his class not figure out the body swap… it was a double-edged sword.

Walking through the front door, Kyle was instantly bombarded with the sounds of Sharon and Randy having some sort of argument in the kitchen. He couldn’t make out much of the details but could tell it wasn’t the first time they were having this fight based on the tired tone in Sharon’s voice. Kyle closed the door as quietly as he could, in hopes that he would be able to sneak upstairs without getting interrupted and getting dragged into something he had no place in.

Either Randy had super hearing or Kyle wasn’t as sneaky as he thought he was, for the second the door clicked closed, he heard Randy’s voice call out.

“Stan?” It was the only thing Randy had said thus far that Kyle could make out perfectly. “Stan! Come in the kitchen for a second!”

“Randy don’t drag your son into this,” Sharon chastised.

“Well, I need someone on my side, Sharon!”

Kyle swallowed hard, glancing between the stairs and the hallway to the kitchen. Knowing Randy, even hearing out his point would lead to helping him with some crazy endeavor down the line, and after the day he had, he wasn’t sure he could take it.

“Sorry, uh, dad, I got homework,” He quickly responded, making a mad dash up the stairs.

“Oh, come on, homework can wait! Stan!” he could hear Randy running out to the front entrance, but Kyle was faster, able to make his way up the stairs and into Stan’s room in record time. Kyle closed the door, leaning up against it in case Randy tried entering. Despite his own panting, he couldn’t make out any noises that would indicate that Randy had followed him, and he sighed in relief.

He really didn’t need to add dealing with Stan’s dad’s bullshit to the list of problems at the moment. Kyle already had enough on his plate. He gave it another minute before he shoved himself away from the door, dropping his backpack next to his desk and sat down. If there was something he could do to clear his thoughts, it was homework. Just having to worry about facts and notes, it was therapeutic. A nice reprieve of the chaos his life had turned into about twenty-four hours ago.

Time flew by as he went from math to social studies, to language arts. Doing the work that Stan usually would never worry about. He was debating doing some late assignments, maybe help get Stan some partial credit, when his phone rang.

Seeing his own contact pop up was confusing at first, until he remembered who was on the other side. He groaned before he answered the call

“What do you want?” he asked Cartman, both upset that the torment wasn’t going to end at just school and that the fucker decided that calling him was the best form of communication.

“I’m just checking in, making sure you remembered what you promised me,” he didn’t seem to upset with Kyle’s tone, which made him even more aggravated. Unfortunately, he did remember what Cartman was talking about.

“I’ll look when I get a chance, alright?” Kyle groaned, already moving the phone away from his ear.

“Well you better hurry the fuck-“ Kyle hung up the call before he could finished, setting the phone down as he turned back to the homework. The son of a bitch has no patience, he thought as he finished up the pre-fix exercise he had been working on before the phone rang. He didn’t get a chance to start the next one, the phone ringing once again.

“Did you fucking hang up on me?!” Cartman yelled into the phone, loud enough that Kyle could hear him before he could put the phone to his ear.

“Yep. Oh look, I’m about to do it again,” he went to press the hang up button once more, but Cartman was able to cut in fast enough.

“Wait!” Kyle paused, staring down at the phone screen, “I’m not… fucking hell, I’m not gonna show people stuff from it, alright? I know that’s why you’ve got your panties in a twist about it.”

Kyle scowled, and brought the phone back to his ear, “And why would I believe that? The only reason I need to find it is to keep you from telling people my secrets!”

“I need it for a personal thing, alright? I’ve got no need to tell the school shit we’ve known for years.”

“What are you talking about?” Kyle asked.

Cartman paused. “Just stop being a pussy and look for it, will ya?”

“Bye Cartman,” Kyle hung up the phone for what he hoped was the final time, throwing the device on Stan’s bed for good measure. Nothing was ever enough for him, was it? Not that he needed to regret his decision anymore than he already did. He looked back down at the homework, just the sight at the large number of unanswered problems brought back that stupid headache.

Kyle sighed as he stood from the desk. Guess now was a better time than any to start looking. He had been in Stan’s room so many times, he knew what was in each drawer on his desk, so no point in digging through those. Swallowing his discomfort, he started looking through his bedside table. There was a lot of loose paper, birthday cards from earlier in the year, little trinkets Stan had won at the arcade, a phone charger, scrapped song lyrics, nothing that really stood out to Kyle.

He gave up on that drawer and moved on to the next. It was more of the same, birthday cards replaced now with report cards and other junk that Stan would never throw away. Poor guy still was kind of a hoarder. Kyle was about to move on when he felt something thicker than the stray pieces of paper he was expecting. He grabbed for it, instantly feeling the spine of a composition book. Bingo.

He took out the notebook from the drawer, running his fingers along the pages on the side. The pages themselves looked worn, but only the first half of it had been filled out, the back half of the pages felt brand new. He figured Stan must have lost interest in keeping it updated if it was a journal of some kind.

A small voice in the back of his mind was screaming at him to open it. All his questions about how Stan acted around him… if Stan really had written down his deepest thoughts, there was bound to be stuff about Kyle, right? Maybe if he just peaked-

No!

He dropped the journal as if it was on fire. It was bad enough he was giving this thing to Cartman, he didn’t need to add to his guilt about the whole thing by actually reading through it.

If he couldn’t tell Stan his own secrets, he had no right digging through Stan’s behind his back.

He just hoped Cartman was telling him the truth, as doubtful as that was.

Chapter Text

Eric was really starting to hate being Kyle. Oh wow that's so surprising, yeah no shit he hated it. After the initial shock of just how much blackmail he was in possession of wore off, he was honestly just bored. He couldn’t bank on his bet with Kenny (who still owed him ten bucks), he actually had to pay attention in class because Kyle was a fucking nerd, and he had to be nice to people. Okay, maybe not nice, but civil, which was just as bad.

Even with everything he was able to hold over Kyle because of the body swap, Eric was still miserable.

The only thing he was able to do successfully was get Kyle in trouble, but the only way he was able to do that was by also dragging himself down with him. It was fucking bullshit, but he was able to get a free favor out of Kyle, so it wasn’t for nothing.

He needed to get on his A-Game… but how? The question kept him up for most of the night. Juggling acting like Kyle, not letting Kyle’s secret slip, and some devious plan to ruin his life was complex. Maybe that was part of the issue, trying to balance all three perfectly. If anything, acting exactly like Kyle wasn’t as high of a priority as he would have thought. All four of them weren’t acting “perfectly” like whose body they were in and what had the worse reaction been? Just some baseless questions and people thinking Stan and Kyle are fighting. Maybe some weird rumor about Stan and Kyle making out but no one was really believing that one any more than the usual bullshit the girls would spread about their class.

Wait. That was it. He just needed to add to the fire that was started about Stan and Kyle. If the whole school has concrete evidence to believe that the two are fighting, they’ll have to make some big scene about it once they switch back. They’ll finally have to address their stupid feelings about each other, and Eric and Kenny can live in peace while Stan and Kyle run off to be gay or whatever. It was brilliant.

All he needed to do now was make it convincing. The attack via volleyball was a good start, innocent enough, but physical fights weren’t really their forte. It needed to be more personal. He had to think back, remember just what exactly would set them off. What, or who, was able to get in-between them before?

Only one person was able to come to mind. This was just too fucking perfect.

He woke up the next morning in high spirits. His brainstorming last night was exactly what he needed to make this whole thing worth it. Adding the fact that he was keeping up his end of the deal with Kyle and could get whatever he wanted out of him made it even better. Things were finally looking up.

“KYLE!” Sheila’s voice boomed as the bedroom door burst opened. Eric yelped, slipping off the bed at the sudden noise, landing awkwardly on his stomach. His chest stung as everything flattened to the ground. He knew that Kyle didn’t have much to boast (not that he was anyway), but Jesus, why does that shit still hurt?

“You need to start getting ready for school, bubbula, what on Earth are you still doing in your pajamas?” Mrs. Broflovski nagged, just adding to Eric’s discomfort.

He bit back a curse he would normally throw at his own mom and sat up. “I’ll be ready in a few,” he answered.

“You better, I won’t have you rushing to eat breakfast again so you’re not late for the bus,” before Eric could get another word it, she closed the door.

“Fucking bitch,” He grumbled as he stood up. The last thing he need was her ruining his good mood. Kyle’s fucking morning routine was plenty, he really didn’t need any addition commentary from Sheila.

Like he had the morning before, he pulled a binder from Kyle’s dresser and placed it front side down on the bed. He sighed in annoyance as he closed his eyes, and took of the pajama shirt, some worn-out band shirt Eric was sure he had gotten from Stan. Eyes still closed, he fumbled for the binder on the bed. Putting it on was just as much of a struggle was it was the day before, its tight material getting bunched together making it a nightmare to pull down. Once he was sure it was pulled down as far it could go, he opened his eyes. He gave a quick glance to the mirror. Good enough, he thought as he went back to the dresser, digging through the drawers for a decent outfit.

Thankfully, he was out of the room in minutes, with plenty of time to get to the bus stop. He was about to head downstairs when he spotted the bathroom door open. He looked down the hallway, in case anyone else was still lingering upstairs, but it was thankfully empty. Eric dipped into the bathroom, rummaging through the drawers, and opening the medicine cabinet. It didn’t take too long for him to find what he was looking for. Eye drops. Bingo.

“Kyle! Breakfast!” Sheila called from downstairs.

Eric rolled his eyes as he put the small bottle in his pocket. “Coming!” He rushed down the stairs, grabbing his jacket as he rounded the corner. The whole Broflovski family was sitting around the table in the kitchen for breakfast. The sight was still off to Eric, a nuclear family just having a normal fucking breakfast.

Not that Eric was jealous that Kyle had that sort of thing. Him and his mom got by just fine without anyone else.

He took the empty seat at the table, taking his time with breakfast as Kyle’s parents talked about their plans for the day. It wasn’t long before he could feel Ike's stare from the seat next to him. He spared a glance to Kyle’s younger brother, who was eyeing Eric suspiciously.

“What do you want?” he asked, narrowing his glare.

“I heard from Tricia Tucker that her older brother said that you and Stan got in a fight at school yesterday,” Ike stated, “Is that why he left early on Monday?”

“What what what?!” Sheila interrupted, turning from her conversation with Gerald. “You got into a fight at school?! With Stan?”

“What? No!” Eric quickly responded, “There was just an accident during gym.” He looked back towards Ike, “We’re not fighting.”

Ike didn’t look too convinced but turned back to his breakfast. Eric hadn’t thought about this, Kyle’s parents’ reaction. More importantly, he didn’t realize that Ike would be such a fucking snitch about it if word got around too quickly. The fuck was he doing talking to Craig’s younger sister about his brother anyway?

Regardless of why, it meant he had to be careful with just who he was acting up the so-called fight to. Not like he needed another thing to worry about with his plan.

Breakfast went by quickly after that, and before he knew it, he was walking up to the bus stop. Once again, Kenny and Stan were there before him, chatting away. They looked pretty chipper, not even phased as Eric approached.

“Looks like someone woke up on the right side of the bed this morning,” Kenny commented, crossing his arms as he turned toward him.

Eric shrugged, “Eh, could have been worse. Kyle’s stupid brother’s a snitch, though.”

“Ike?” Stan frowned, “What he do now?”

“Fucker told Kyle’s mom that I got into a fight at school!” he groaned. Stan frowned.

“Well, I mean, you kind of did.”

“It’s not like I did any real damage!”

Kenny rolled his eyes, “Can you not cause issues for more than twenty-four hours or what? What Kyle even do?”

“Fucking nothing,” Stan grumbled earning a slap on the arm from Kenny.

Eric scoffed. “He was being an asshole, I had a volleyball in my hand, next thing I know, I hit Kyle. I don’t see how this is my fault.”

The bus came screeching around the corner, catching the attention of all the boys.

“Just remember what we promised,” Kenny warned, “No fucking with each other’s lives. Got that?”

As the bus pulled up, doors swinging open Eric sighed heavily, “Yeah, whatever.” He followed Kenny and Stan onto the bus, watching as a repeat of the other day played out in front of him, Stan pushing past Kenny to sit next to Kyle-who looked a tad more exhausted than he had yesterday- leaving Eric to sit next to Kenny. As they took their seats, Eric turned to him.

“What would say is more important? Keeping that initial promise or getting Stan and Kyle together?”

Kenny paled as his eyes met Eric’s. “What the hell are you planning?”

“And spoil the surprise? I think not. Just answer the fucking question.”

He scowled at Eric but gave one last look at the seat in front of him before asking, “Can you pull it off without screwing with Kyle?”

“Probably not,” Eric looked around the bus, making sure his target was going to be in class today. He spotted him up near the front, sitting with his usually gang of Craig, Jimmy, and Clyde.

Tolkien.

If he had been able to create a rift between Stan and Kyle before, with a little meddling from Eric, he could surely do it again.

“If you want to help, you’re shit outta luck, dude,” Kenny leaned up against the window, “And if this plan of yours fall on its face, I’m not helping with the cleanup.”

Eric shook his head dismissively. “Ye of little faith. Every goddamn couple I’ve helped get together at this school is still going strong. Tolkien and Nicole? Tweek and Craig? The list goes on.”

Kenny raised an eyebrow. “You know, I feel like it’s a little late to just lock them in the gym so they can talk it out, but if that’s what you’re thinking- “

“Just wait for lunch,” Eric interrupted, “All will become clear then.”

After that vague warning, Kenny didn’t say much more to Eric during the rest of the ride. Every so often he could hear bits and pieces of Stan and Kyle’s conversation. He half considered texting Kyle, interrupting his good time to remind him what he owes Eric. But sending a text like that would be weird once they all switched back. And given the number of texts that Stan has sent Kyle over just the previous week, he would see the message right away. It was the same issue with texting Kenny a picture of Kyle’s diary. Sure, keeping the phone of whose body they were in made sense in case parents were sending messages, or if other people needed to contact them, but it made communication between the four complicated.

Thankfully, he didn’t need to text Kyle any reminders, getting his answer right as they got to school. Eric had just stepped off the bus when Kyle had pulled him aside, Stan nowhere in sight. Before he could say anything, a small notebook was shoved into his hands.

“You better be telling the truth about this being personal,” Kyle warned, his voice low as more student passed behind Eric.

He examined over the journal in his hands. It looked like it was abandoned halfway through, but that seemed like just the amount of commitment he would expect Stan to put into something. “Don’t worry, Kyle. It’s in safe hands.”

Kyle scowled at him, but left it at that, walking off with the rest of the crowd, probably to find Stan or some shit.

Man, today was gonna be a good day.

Eric shoved the journal in his backpack and made his way into the school with the rest of his classmates. He needed to bid his time until first period, making sure he had enough time to talk with Tolkien before class officially started, but not getting there before him. It was a tricky game, but nothing new for Eric. He had a ten-minute window to make sure he could pull this off. Knowing that, he made a quick detour to the bathroom.

Thankfully, it was empty at this point in the morning, and after a thorough check of each stall, he went back to the sink, looking at Kyle’s face in the mirror. He grabbed the eye drops from his pocket, quickly reading over the small script to make sure he wasn’t gonna dump contact solution into his eyes. He had made that mistake before and wasn’t looking forward to a repeat attempt.

He took in a breath as he forced his eyes more open, blinking as he squeezed the bottle, the drops landing in his eyes. Looking back into the mirror, he waited for his eyes to water more, giving the illusion of crying. Next step, the fake crying face. He scrunched his eyebrows together, taking in quick, harsh breaths, and making his bottom lip tremble. A fake tear ran down his cheek, and Eric smiled, relaxing his face again.

Almost too easy, he thought as he wiped at his eyes aggressively. The more irritated he made his eyes look, the better, it would make it seem like he was crying for longer. He grabbed a paper towel from the dispenser and rubbed at his nose. Not an ideal method, but it would work for now.

He gave another look at Kyle’s face in the mirror. His face was giving breakdown, but everything else was too put together. He pulled a few curls loose from the hat, even titling it slightly and unzipping the top of his jacket so he looked a bit frazzled. Better, but the real test would be Tolkien’s reaction.

The warning bell for first period rang loudly in the halls. Eric gave one last look towards the reflection in the mirror. It was go time.

Kyle’s first class was close to the bathroom, so he took his time walking there, making sure as many of his classmates were in the room as possible to be witnesses. Eric lingered by the classroom door, waiting for more students to pass by before he dared to look in. His eyes landed straight on Tolkien, already at his desk next to Kyle’s. Perfect. He grabbed the tiny bottle of eye drops from his pocket once again, and took a few steps back, ensuring he was out of view. With the hallway mostly clear, he titled his head up blinking hard as he squeezed the saline solution into his eyes, tearing up instantly. Before a tear could run down his face, he took a deep breath in, and rushed into the class, face scrunched up in hurt like he had practiced.

He dropped himself dramatically on his seat, backpack crashing to the floor loud enough to catch Tolkien’s attention, not that Eric looking in his direction. He squeezed his eyes shut and let out a shaky breath, rubbing his sleeve across his face to poorly wipe away the fake tears.

“Kyle? Is everything alright?” Tolkien asked.

Mission accomplished. Eric had to fight back a triumphant smile. This was almost too easy.

He turned to Tolkien, eyes wide and red from the earlier irritation. “Oh, it’s fine, Tolkien, don’t worry about it,” he kept his voice soft, making sure he was keeping limited eye contact.

“Obviously you’re not fine, what happened?” the other boy moved his chair closer, resting a hand on Eric’s leg. He flinched slightly at the contact. That happened way sooner than Eric had planned. But he could absolutely work with this.

He wiped at his face again, making sure he didn’t miss any false tears the this time. “It’s just… Stan, you know?” He paused, shaking his head slightly, “He’s just been so… so distant and-and I just can’t take it. He doesn’t even want to sit next to me on the bus anymore and it’s… I don’t know what I did wrong.”

“God, Kyle, I’m so sorry dude,” Tolkien apologized, “I’m sure it was nothing you did.”

“Thanks Tolkien,” Eric made sure to strain his voice, like he was still on the verge or crying, “It means a lot to me, I know you and Stan are friends and I don’t want to cause a fuss.” He inched his hand closer to Tolkien’s waiting for the rest of his trap to sink in. And like the sucker he was, Tolkien fell for it, grabbing his hand supportively.

“You wouldn’t be causing a fuss, if Stan’s being an asshole, I’d want to know,” Tolkien explained. A heartwarming gesture, truly, but Eric just couldn’t believe how quickly and easily he fell for his bullshit. He smiled back at Tolkien, placing his other hand atop of the one on his leg gently.

“That’s real sweet of you,” he mused just as the bell for the start of class rang throughout the school, “If it gets that bad, I’ll tell you.”

Tolkien nodded as he carefully pulled his hand away from Eric, then slid his chair back into place as their math teacher began her lesson. God, he barely even needed the setup, he was basically tripping over himself to comfort Kyle. This was going to play out all according to plan.

That was… until the end of class.

As he gathered his stuff, he didn’t notice a figure looming over his desk until he heard her voice. “So, you guys really are fighting?”

Wendy Testaburger. Another one of Eric’s sworn enemies. If he didn’t know any better, the look she was giving “Kyle” was one she usually reserved for him.

“What?” He asked, making sure he heard her right.

“You and Stan. You’re fighting, right?” She crossed her arms.

“What’s it to you?” He scoffed standing from his desk and slinging his backpack over his shoulder. “Didn't think you'd care so much about your ex’s relationships.”

Wendy narrowed her glare. “Sorry I wanted to check in with you to make sure." She apologized sarcastically, "I just wasn’t going to trust Bebe without hearing it from one of you first.”

"Well, it's none of your business, alright? So back off," Eric sneered.

She looked him up and down, before adding, “I know we’re not super close, but that doesn’t mean you get to act like a dick.” She left the classroom without another word, leaving Eric all alone.

That might be a problem, he thought. Wendy had a habit of ruining Eric’s schemes right as they were starting to hit off. So long as she didn’t talk to Kyle, he might be able to pull through.

Over the next several class, his plan seemed to prove successful. Whether it was Tolkien spreading the word, or people taking rumors too seriously, other students kept asking if he was doing okay. At one point, he decided to riff on the pique in interest, and made a quick bathroom break to reapply his fake crying face, it was a fucking hit. Eric was a goddamn genius.

By the time lunch started, he wondered if word had spread to the others, given the attention he had been given over the past few periods. After grabbing his meal, he spotted the group at their normal table. They didn’t look too concerned. If anything, they looked like they were having a pretty good lunch period.

Okay, he could work with this. He had honestly planned for this to be the case anyway, so it didn’t change much in his grand scheme.

“Well, turns out you guys really are shitty actors,” Eric greeted as he dropped his lunch tray on the table. He was met with annoyed glares.

“We’re the shitty actors?” Kyle asked, “I think everyone in gym yesterday would beg to differ.”

“What are you talking about, dude?” Stan added in, sounding just as annoyed as Kyle did.

“You guys seriously haven’t heard? I mean, the whole school is talking about it. How me and Stan are fighting,” He explained as he sat down. He caught a curious look from Kenny, who he hoped was catching on that this was the plan he had mentioned on the bus.

“Wait what?” Kyle sat up straighter, “What do you mean the whole school is talking about this?”

“I don’t know how, but I swear, so many people have come up to ask if I’m doing okay, it’s insane,” he shook his head in false disbelief. “Based on some reactions, it’s not just because of what happened during gym yesterday.”

“Fucking Bebe,” Stan grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose, “She kept asking me about if something went down between us during the field trip, but I told her nothing happened.”

“How well did you sell it?” Kenny pipped up, “Cause if she didn’t believe you… probably didn’t change her opinion on it.”

“This is ridiculous,” Kyle crossed his arms, “There’s no way anyone who really knows us would believe that shit.”

“I beg to differ,” Eric bit back his shit eating grin. Now was his time to set the landing on this whole charade. “I mean this morning, I think Tolkien might have been flirting with you.”

“He what?!” Stan snapped to attention, his eyes narrowing as his grip on his fork tighten significantly. Like taking candy from a fucking baby.

Eric quickly looked Stan up and down, and smirked. “Easy there tiger, I said ‘think’.” He saw panic run across Stan's face, as he quickly looked down to avoid Kyle's eyes.

Kyle himself seemed a bit at a loss for words, looking between Eric and Stan. “I… I doubt that’s what actually happened.”

“I can’t think of a platonic reason he would grab for you hand supportively, but be my guest,” he held his hands up in surrender, “Guess he figured you had an opening for some homoerotic friendship with Stan out of the way.”

“Fuck off!” Kyle cursed, “Tolkien’s a nice guy, he was probably just checking in with me. He was fine talking with me,” he gestured to his body, “yesterday after school. He’s just being friendly! Besides, there’s nothing inherently romantic about hand holding, you piece of shit.”

“Oh, so you hold Tolkien’s hand often, then?” Stan cut it, almost taking the words right out of Eric’s mouth. Unlike him, however, Stan meant it as a genuine question, anger seeping through his tone. Both Eric and Kenny’s faces dropped in shock, looking over at each other briefly to ensure they had heard that right.

Kyle was taken aback. “What? No. The hell are you on about?”

“I don’t know!” Stan snapped, “You just seem kind of defensive about it, that’s all.”

“So, you’re gonna believe Cartman’s take on it over mine?!” Kyle raised his voice. “Tolkien’s friends with both of us, what would Cartman know about him?”

“Yeah, Tolkien’s my friend, but I don’t think he’s ever held my hand in comfort before- “

“Oh, I’m sorry, do you want to date Tolkien?” Kyle dug in deeper, reflecting Stan’s anger, “Why the hell do you care so much?”

“I don’t care!” Stan yelled, standing from his seat. The sudden noise caught the attention from the other students in the cafeteria, conversations coming to a halt to see just what had happened. Stan’s cheeks were burning red as he realized how many people had heard him. “Fine. Whatever. Have fun with Tolkien.” He grumbled quickly, taking his lunch tray, and leaving the table.

Surrounding conversations picked up slowly as Stan walked away. Eric looked back at Kyle, watching as he shrunk back into himself, looking down at his plate.

“Dude,” Kenny reached a hand towards Kyle, “Are you- “

Kyle shoved his hand away. “Fuck off.” He grabbed his tray, leaving the table in the opposite direction as Stan. Once he was far enough away, Kenny turned his attention back toward Eric.

“If that was the end goal of whatever you fucking planned, I’m gonna kick your ass,” he threatened.

Eric… hadn’t been expecting a fallout quite that quickly. Sure, Stan getting jealous was a given, he knew it was going to happen, but the rest…

“They’ll forgive each other in no time,” Eric waved away Kenny’s concern, “This is just the beginning. If Stan doesn’t think he has any competition for Kyle’s affection, he’s never gonna say anything. If he has a romantic rival, all that changes.”

“So, you picked Tolkien?” Kenny asked, then shook his head, “Un-fucking-believable.”

“Ay! If you have any better ideas, I would love to hear them!”

Kenny scowled, but didn’t say anything else, opting instead to finish his lunch in silence. Fucking thought so, Eric thought to himself.

Kyle never came back to the table, which meant Eric only realized right before the bell rang that he was supposed to change into his gym uniform early per Kyle’s stupid request he made yesterday. He didn’t even get a chance to look through Stan’s journal, but that would have to wait till later. He changed in the stall in record time, but he wasn’t as alone in the locker room as he had been the other day, which he knew Kyle would have thrown a fit about if he was there.

Fortunately for him, Kyle was seemingly avoiding Eric, Kenny, and Stan, sulking against the wall before gym started. It was kind of funny that his fight with Stan during lunch was only helping Eric’s effort to fake a fight between Stan and Kyle during the field trip on Monday. Unexpected, but Eric wasn’t going to complain.

After the disaster that had been mock games yesterday, the gym teacher decided today would be more focused on practicing specific moves during a one-on-one volley. This meant the class got to work in pairs of their own choosing. Fucking jackpot. As quickly as he could, Eric was able to find Tolkien in the crowd of seventh graders.

“Need a partner?” he asked quietly, making sure their teacher, still in the middle of his start of class lecture, didn't hear him. Tolkien looked a bit shocked but after looking around the rest of his class, gave Eric a nod. He smiled. This was just too fucking easy.

Once the class was sent off in their chosen duos, Eric and Tolkien found a spot near the back of the gym to play.

“Here, you can start us off,” Tolkien passed Eric the ball, which he easily caught, “Just don’t try to take me out with it, okay?”

Eric forced a laugh. “I’m never gonna live that down, huh?” He asked playfully.

Tolkien smiled and shook his head, “Yeah, good luck finding anyone else who would put their wellbeing on the line just in case.”

“Rude,” Eric scoffed, making sure to keep up a slightly flirty attitude, “Guess I’m lucky you’re so brave.”

Tolkien laughed, “Yeah, let’s call it lucky.”

Their volley wasn’t spectacular, not that Eric expected it to be. He would have been embarrassed about how many times he missed the ball if he actually cared about this fucking sport. Eric was grabbing the ball from where it had rolled off towards the bleachers when the teacher blew his whistle, indicating that they had to switch partners.

“Hey Tolkien,” Eric quickly caught his arm as Tolkien started walking off towards his friend group on the other side of the gym, “I just wanted to say thank you, again, for what you said earlier. It’s nice to know I have you in my corner.”

He smiled at Eric, and placed a hand on his shoulder, “Of course, Kyle.” He took the volleyball from Eric’s hands, “Think I should keep a hand on this in case Stan walks by.”

Eric laughed, covering his mouth like he was embarrassed, “That’s probably for the best.”

With another friendly smile, Tolkien walked off, and Eric’s face fell back to normal. He kind of forgot that in order to make it seem like Tolkien was into Kyle, that meant he had to hang out with the guy for a long time. He could only fake laugh at his unfunny comments so much.

He turned around, ready to find someone else to pair up with, when he ran face first into Stan. “Jesus Christ!” he exclaimed as he jumped back in shock.

“So, Tolkien’s not flirting with Kyle, you’re leading him on?” he questioned, glaring towards Eric.

Well, his fun was bound to end one way or another. At least it was Stan who found out rather than Kyle

“To be fair, he’s making it incredibly easy,” Eric offered, but Stan’s glare stayed strong. “What do you want from me, Marsh?”

“A goddamn explanation would be nice!” He exclaimed, “What the hell do you get out of trying to set up Kyle and Tolkien?”

“Woah, woah, pump the brakes!” Eric held a hand out in front of him, like it would keep Stan from entering his personal bubble, “I’m not trying to set them up! He’s still got a girlfriend. I’m helping you out.”

Stan’s frustration turned to confusion. “What?”

Eric couldn't believe how dense this guy was. “Stan, buddy, you do realize that this is one of the first times since elementary that you both are on the market? Single? Available? I’m just here to show that if you don’t make a move soon, Kyle has plenty of options.”

It had been a while since Eric had seen Stan so flustered, opening and closing his mouth without saying a word, constantly looking over to where Tolkien had run off before he finally managed to get some words out, “It’s… Cartman, it’s more complicated than that.”

“The hell it is!” Eric retorted, “I get that you’re too much of a pussy to actually ask him out, but if you don’t fucking pull your shit together, you’re gonna lose out on Kyle’s sweet ass!”

Stan shook his head, “It’s not that I don’t want-“ he stopped himself, whatever rant he was about to go on was not nearly as important as he sudden thought, “Wait, I’m sorry, did you just say Kyle has a sweet ass?”

Eric blinked. “I… what?”

“You said ‘Kyle’s sweet ass’,” Stan furrowed his brow.

He… where the fuck had that come from? For some reason, Stan repeating his words back to him made his heart start to race and his stomach flutter. What the fuck was that all about?

“Well not like- not like I think he has a sweet ass,” he rambled defensively, not because he needed to explain his self to Stan, more like he needed to rationalize it to himself, “Cause, you know, I’m not gay, but like, you think that he has a sweet ass cause you’re gay for him and that’s… gay.”

“I’m bi, Cartman.”

“Yeah, so still kinda gay.”

They stood there for a beat, staring at each other. Stan didn’t look as angry as he had at the beginning of the conversation, but the inquiry in his face was making Eric uneasy. He thought his explanation was pretty logical, and who the hell was Stan to question Eric on that shit? Like Stan didn’t have a big gay crush on his best friend.

Eric was no stranger to method acting, so that’s where that must have come from. Just him getting too into playing the part, what else could it be? Yeah, no, that’s absolutely why he said that shit. He was just psyching himself out.

“Good talk, see ya later,” he spoke quickly, turning on his heels to walk back to the rest of class. Stan tried calling after him, but didn’t chase him down, which Eric was relieved for.

On the whole, his plan had successful, the only downside now being Stan had figured out his scheme. That wasn’t ideal. If anything, it might mean the two would apologize much quicker than Eric had thought after lunch. But it meant he was back at square one. He needed a new method to get those two idiots to open up to each other and fast.

That didn’t solve everything, though, because why the fuck did he say Kyle has a hot ass? He didn’t have an opinion on Kyle’s ass because that would mean he has thought about Kyle’s ass before, which he hasn't, and fuck Stan for even implying that he had!

God, Eric really hated being Kyle.

Chapter Text

To say that Cartman’s plan was pissing Kenny off would be an understatement. After the stunt he pulled during lunch, Kenny was contemplating just locking him in Kyle’s room until they figured out a way to switch back just to prevent anymore collateral damage. It was one thing to play into rumors, but playing them up to the point where Stan and Kyle were actually fighting?

If Kenny didn’t know any better, he would think Cartman was trying to push them apart rather than get them together.

He much preferred the miserable Cartman from yesterday, causing physical harm as opposed to emotional. It was a lot easier to fix.

The worst part was people seemed to believe him. At first, he thought that Cartman was just hyping it up to make it seem crazier than it really was, but based on the looks the group got during lunch… Kenny should have taken Cartman's confidence that morning more seriously.

He felt bad, guilty even, watching Stan and Kyle misread the entire situation. Granted, it wasn't the first time something like this had happened, but that didn’t really change Kenny’s feelings on the matter. It was like they were determined to always assume the worst. Stubborn bastards.

Regardless, he had told Cartman he wasn’t going to be the one to clean this up, and he wanted to stick with that. Kenny knew the chances of Cartman going back on his opinion of this plan were slim to none, so it was going to test his resolve. He wasn’t sure which was stronger, Cartman’s arrogance to ask for help when he’d fuck up, or Kenny’s uncanny ability to be some kind or martyr for the group.

He figured it would be the former, but he didn’t expect to get called out on it so soon. Like, not even an hour after the fact, soon.

Despite not wanting to interact with any of them before class, Kyle somehow ended up paired with Kenny during gym. He didn’t seem to be thrilled about it, but Kenny knew bringing up the events from lunch or even mentioning Stan or Cartman would only make Kyle’s mood worse, and he didn’t want to do that. They played in relative silence passing the ball between the two of them, changing up the different ways to hit it every so often. Kenny didn’t know how long they had been going at it when Kyle suddenly spoke up.

“Do you think Cartman was telling the truth?” He asked, catching the ball in his hands, stopping the volley, “About the whole Tolkien thing?”

Kenny laughed to himself, “So you do want to talk about it?”

Kyle scowled, tucking the ball under his arm, “I just…” He shook his head, “What is Stan’s problem? Can I like, not have any friends other than him? I don’t get it.”

His eye twitched, screaming internally. He… He couldn’t be serious. Stan could have a fucking neon sign above his head reading “I have a crush on Kyle Broflovski” and Kyle would still be thinking everything between the two of them was still purely platonic.

“You’ve got to be shitting me right now,” Kenny groaned, dragging a hand down his face, “Okay, I’m not gonna break down all of that but first, of course I don’t believe Cartman because- what you and Stan have seemingly forgot- is that Tolkien has a fucking girlfriend.”

Kyle’s face dropped, “Well, yeah, but- “

“And second, it’s Cartman,” Kenny turned to the other end of the gym, where Cartman and Tolkien were chatting, Cartman laughing playfully and acting up a storm. It made Kenny cringe. “You know he’s just trying to wind you both up, right?” He turned back towards Kyle, whose eyes had dropped to the floor, still scowling.

“Of course, I know that”, he grumbled, “God, when is he not trying to do that.”

“So, then what?” Kenny threw his hands up in frustration, “You’re just gonna prove him fucking right?!”

“I’m not the one proving him right!” Kyle snapped, “I just want to know why the hell Stan’s making such a big deal out of fucking nothing!”

Because he’s a jealous bitch who thinks you like Tolkien the way he likes you, Kenny thought to himself. He sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair. There goes his plan to not help Cartman out. As much as he wanted Cartman to realize how stupid this whole ordeal was, he still wanted there to be a friend group when they all swapped back. He was not gonna go through another spilt custody agreement like he was their fucking child.

“Look, dude, it’s really not my place to say anything,” Kenny shook his head, he knew even saying that might be too much, “But I think he's just worried about losing you. I mean, it’s not like this is the first time he’s done something like this.”

The anger dropped from Kyle’s eyes, turning more into confusion as he processed what Kenny had told him. “What are you talking about?”

“Do you remember Valentine’s Day back in fourth grade?” He asked, walking closer so they could keep their voices down. Kyle nodded, further confused by Kenny’s tangent. “It’s just like then.”

“It is not like then- “

“No, no, it is exactly like then,” Kenny cut him off, "Stan is… he doesn’t like change, right?  I’m not saying he’s not overreacting, but this just feels… familiar, you know?”

They stood there for a second, Kyle taking it all in, glaring at the volleyball, which Kenny was worried would pop from the amount of pressure Kyle was placing on it. Eventually, he looked back up at Kenny.

“You seriously think that’s all it is?” he asked.

Kenny rolled his eyes and chuckled, “Positive. You two are so predictable, I’d be shocked if it was anything else.”

Kyle’s eyes widen and he threw the volleyball directly at Kenny’s stomach, the impact taking him off guard and causing him to stagger backwards slightly.

“Fuck you! We are not that predictable!” He exclaimed, and fumed off, timing wonderfully with the whistle of the gym teacher indicating for them to switch partners.

Kenny picked up the ball from the floor, watching as Kyle walked away. No wonder Kyle was so pissed about yesterday, he thought as the sting from the hit began to subside, that shit fucking hurt.

His eyes wandered around the gym, looking for someone who might be desperate enough to partner with him now. On the other side of the gym, he saw Cartman speed walk away from Stan, face burning red as Stan stared at him, confused. Curious and somewhat intrigued, Kenny started to make his way over when someone pulled on his arm, dragging him in the opposite direction. He yelped at the sudden movement, stumbling over his feet as he tried to turn himself around to see who was stupid enough to pull this kind of stunt.

He shouldn’t have been surprised when he came face to face with Butters, but he was. Maybe he was more surprised with the look Butters was giving him, pent up anger and frustration that Kenny hadn’t seen in… God knows how long.

“Butters,” he muttered as he made eye contact, his heart racing as his anxiety worked on overdrive to figure out just what was about to go down, “Hey man. What’s, uh, what’s goin’ on?”

“Are you sending on some kind of wild goose chase, Eric?” Butters crossed his arms in front of his chest, looking Kenny up and down.

Kenny gulped. “I don’t… what are you talking about?”

“The electron transfer machine that you wanted me to look into!” Butters exclaimed, relatively quietly as to not draw attention to the two of them, “I’ve been trying to investigate it, but there’s nothing. The original creator of the idea doesn’t have any records online, and Mephesto barely talks about it in the stuff I’ve been able to find.”

Shit, right, that thing. The reason they were swapped and why the group was starting to fall apart at the seams. Kenny kind of forgot that was the real problem. Well, now the real problem was that Butters had hit the same dead end that Kyle did. The reason they decided to seek out Butters in the first place. They were screwed. If he couldn’t find anything… what the hell were they going to do?

“Butters, there’s got to be something,” Kenny felt panic slip into his tone, but he was a little too worried about the prospect of them never being able to switch back that sounding like Cartman was the least of his worries, “I mean, it’s only been a day so- “

“Oh, that’s not all!” Butters cut him off, “I’m starting to think you’re not planning on holding up your end of the deal.”

“My end of the…” Kenny repeated to himself, “Huh?”

“You know... with Kenny.”

Kenny had to physical stop himself from asking, “What did I do?”

But still, what did he do? Or… what had Stan done?

“You gotta give me more context than that Butters,” Kenny managed to formulate, and as much as he wanted to sound nonchalant, he just sounded panicked. To be fair, he was, but that wasn’t a good look for “Cartman”.

“I know you said that you were trying to find someone to set him up with, and maybe I was just looking too much into it but…” Butters bit his lip, looking back behind Kenny to where he had to assume Stan was, “I guess I’m just confused.”

Butters, please finish a thought before I have a goddamn stroke, Kenny thought to himself, rubbing his temples. “Confused about what?”

Looking back at Kenny, he saw the anger fade from Butters’ face, now replaced with betrayal. “Does Kenny like Stan now?”

Kenny felt a pit drop in his stomach. He was going to kill Stan.

“What?” He asked, gritting his teeth, and trying to calm the rage that ignited in him as he realized just how much bullshitting he was going to have to do to clear this all up.

“You haven’t noticed? He’s been attached at the hip to Stan for the past couple of days!” Butters explained, “They’ve been talking a lot with each other, and… that look Kenny keeps giving him…”

Butters voice trailed off, but Kenny knew the exact look he was talking about. The look Stan gave Kyle every goddamn day. Like Kyle was the light of his life, the only thing that mattered in the world. Usually, Kenny thought it was sweet, but right now, it was his current motivation for murder.

“Okay, I need you to listen to me for a minute,” Kenny grabbed Butters by the shoulders, “I know it looks weird, but you need to trust me on this. There is no way in hell that Kenny likes Stan. You got that?”

Butters swallowed, eyes darting to around as he tried to look anywhere but Kenny eye’s as he pulled him closer, “Well I uhh, I mean if you say so but uh, are you positive about that?” His eyes widened and he quickly backtracked, “Not that I don’t think you wouldn't tell me the truth or anything! I just… this whole thing is just… I’m getting real confused Eric.”

Kenny sighed. This was going to be harder than he first thought. He needed to think of an excuse and quick. Unfortunately, the only thing that came to mind was the one thing that he really didn’t want to feed into… Not like he had much of a choice at this point.

“Look, Butters, Kenny is just,” he stumbled over his own name, “He’s just helping Stan out. I’m sure you’ve heard Kyle and him are… not on speaking terms.”

Realization slowly dawned on Butters face as Kenny’s guilt increased. The last thing he should be doing was confirming this stupid fucking rumor while Cartman was actively trying to bring it to reality. But for the meantime, maybe it would get Butters off his back for a while.

“Oh, it- it’s that serious?” he asked, “I heard something was going on, but…”

“Yeah, everything’s been kind of weird,” Kenny let go of Butters, “But I’m gonna need you to keep digging. I promise, everything will sort itself out eventually.”

Butters looked past Kenny once again, then back to him. “Alright, I’ll see what I can do.”

Kenny exhaled in relief, “Oh thank god.”

Unfortunately for Kenny, his eventful day didn’t end there. Because of course he couldn’t get off that easy. No, he clearly needed to worry about other things because his life wasn't complicated enough. It was two classes later, when Kenny was all by himself in social studies. The class was watching some kind of crash course video on Ancient Greek city states that Kenny was half tuning out when an aid for the front office walked into the class, handing the teacher a note.

“Eric Cartman,” the teacher called out, reading the pink slip that acted as a hall pass to the counselor’s office. Kenny wasn’t a stranger to them, but damn had it been a while since he’s gotten one. And to be fair, he wasn’t getting one, Cartman was. He groaned as he stood from his seat, slinging his backpack over his shoulder while the class ooo-ed with interest.

Just what had Cartman done this time, Kenny thought as he took the slip from the teacher. His recent antics couldn’t be traced to Cartman himself because- well, because of the body swap, so what could he have done before hand?

Unless this was about the field trip. Oh shit, was this about the field trip? Did the place have cameras? If it did, it was a miracle that it had taken this long for any of them to get caught. Was there audio of the whole thing? They probably sounded crazy; Kenny knew it sounded crazy. Were they all gonna get in trouble for it? Looking back, Cartman was the only one who really messed with the machine, the others tried to pull him off. Of course, Cartman was the one getting in trouble, but Kenny was the one taking the fall. Fucking typical.

Approaching the counselor’s office, he immediately clocked the empty chairs outside of it, meaning either he was the first one to get called down, or he was the only one that did. Great. What a way to round out the shitty day he’s had. A one-on-one meeting with Mr. Mackey.

Kenny had never hoped for his uncanny ability to die in the most batshit way to kick in more in his life.

He took a seat on one of the empty chairs, contemplating whether he should take full responsibility as Cartman, keeping everyone else in the clear. But with Cartman’s track record, would they even believe him? There was no universe in which he would ever take the fall for something like this, why would they believe him?

Was he just bound to keep making things worse by trying to assume how Cartman would act? Clearly, it hadn’t helped that much with Butters, and with adults… God, this was stressful.

Without warning, the door flew open, Craig waltzing out and flipping Kenny a middle finger as he left down the hall. What Craig was in for, he had no idea. He had been through enough today; he didn’t need to get dragged down into something else.

While he didn’t hear Mackey call out his name, the open door was invitation enough. He took in a deep breath and stood up, installing as much fake confidence as he could muster before he marched into the counselor’s office, and plopped himself down on the chair in front of the desk.

Mr. Mackey didn’t pay him much attention upon his entrance, clearing his desk of papers from his previous meeting with Craig, leaving Kenny just sitting there, anxiously waiting for the other shoe to drop, whatever confidence he managed to gather earlier faltered. After one too many seconds of silence, Kenny cleared his throat, causing Mackey to jump, looking up at him.

“Oh, Eric. Glad you made it,” he greeted.

“Yeah,” Kenny drawled out. Mackey didn’t seem too upset or mad at him, so maybe this wasn’t about the field trip? His lack of reaction was somehow more upsetting. If he didn’t know something happened, why the hell was he here? Fuck it, he was gonna have to bite the bullet eventually. “Am I… am I in trouble?”

“Oh, well, uh, not yet.”

Kenny blinked. “Yet?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“You see, Eric,” Mackey leaned forward, hands clasped together, “Us faculty are glad to see you’ve somewhat calmed down since elementary school, m’kay, but we are tad worried since, uh, you’ve been pretty quiet the past couple of weeks.”

“Is that not a good thing?” he tilted his head to the side in confusion.

“No, no, we’re very happy about that, m’kay?” Mr. Mackey quickly shook his head, “But we feel it might just be the calm before the storm, if you know what I mean?”

Kenny was gonna snap if one more person said some vague bullshit instead of just saying what they really meant. “So?”

“So, we were hoping that, if you told us what you might have planned that, uh, we could work out a less harsh punishment ahead of time, m’kay?”

He laughed in surprised, “I’m sorry you’re trying to bargain with Cart- I mean, with me?” His smile faltered quickly upon the slip-up, hitting himself internal for letting his shock get the best of him.

“You’ve helped us out in the past, Eric,” Mackey explained, motioning vaguely with his hands, “And uh, think of it as us throwing you a bone, m’kay?”

Kenny couldn't believe this. They… they could be this dumb, right? They were gonna just let Cartman get away with the dumb bullshit he pulls? Well, if this planned of theirs worked, they would at least have time to prepare, but that doesn’t seem like the ideal solution.

He couldn’t find the right words to express his confusion, the only thing he managed to get out was, “Why?” in an exasperated tone.

“Well, us faculty have come to realize that you don’t respond well to any type of punishment,” That was true, “So, uh, we’ve figured it would be worth a shot to try to and make some kind of deal- or bargain like you said- with you instead.”

Dear god, this school is gonna burn to the ground one day, Kenny thought as he shook his head. “I know you guys have done stupid shit, but this really takes the cake, Mackey.”

The counselor frowned, “Eric, don’t curse, m’kay?”

“Okay, sorry,” he quickly apologized, immediately wiping the smile off his face. He took a second, clearing his throat once again before continuing, “Look, I don’t- I don’t really have anything for you.”

Mr. Mackey sighed, seeming to have expected this answer, which made Kenny a bit more relieved. “Well, in case you change your mind, I’ll be here all week if you want to talk, m’kay?”

“M’kay,” Kenny answered sarcastically, standing up and leaving the office at a much faster pace than when he arrived.

Did that… did that really just happen? He wasn’t entirely sure how to process all that. Sure, he was glad the group was in the clear, but… seriously, there’s no way the teachers actually think that is the perfect solution for dealing with Cartman, right? He knew the adults in the town weren’t the brightest sometimes, but this really was a new low.

As the school day came to a close, the group walking to the bus in uncomfortable silence, Kenny waited till they were mostly alone to finally address his weird encounter with Mackey. 

“I think I know the answer to this, but you do have any crazy big schemes planned for the next week or two?” he asked Cartman as they got the line of buses outside the school.

Cartman, Kyle, and Stan all stopped in their tracks, giving Kenny an odd look. “The fuck are you talking about?” Cartman asked, crossing his arms.

Kenny sighed, “After everything you’ve done today, just answer the fucking question.”

Cartman rolled his eyes, quietly muttering under his breath and counting through something on his fingers. “My calendar’s pretty open. Even if it wasn’t, I’d have to move things around to account for… this,” he shot Kyle a quick glare. “Why? You got some ideas or something?”

“No, no it's just that I got called to Mackey’s fucking office because the staff is worried you’ve got something planned and they were willing to offer a lesser punishment if I told them,” Kenny ranted, “Like, they weren’t going to try to get you to stop, they were just going to let whatever it was slide and, I don’t know, give you a one less week of detention? Please tell me they haven’t done this before.”

The three of his friends just stared at him in utter confusion.

“Dude, the fuck?” Kyle scoffed.

“There’s no way in hell that actually happened,” Stan shook his head, his voice just barely heard from over the hood of the parka, “They have to know better than that.”

“Why would I lie about this?!” Kenny exclaimed, “You know I’m not actually Cartman, right?”

“Ay!” Cartman snapped.

“That seems like some kind of trap, there’s no way Mackey was being completely honest with you,” Kyle rationalized, eyebrows furrowed in thought, “Cartman would probably fall for some shit like that.”

“I am right here!” Cartman waved his hands in front of Kyle’s face, “How would you like it if people just insulted you to your face, huh?!”

Kyle scowled, “You literally do that to me all the time.”

“You should be more worried about what he says behind your back,” Stan muttered to himself, just loud enough for Kenny to make it out completely. He wondered if it had something to do with what he had seen during gym, but before he could ask, Cartman whipped his head around, face blushing scarlet. Guess he must have heard Stan's comment as well.

“You shut you’re fucking mouth, Marsh! You know damn well I didn’t mean it like that!” He exclaimed in a oddly panicked tone.

“Mean what?” Kyle asked, which only caused Cartman to become more flustered.

“None of your damn business, Kyle!” he yelled, before stomping away towards the bus, leaving the three of them in the dust.

Kenny looked over at Stan, who was standing still, possibly shell-shocked from the reaction from Cartman. “What the hell was that about?”

Stan shook his head, “I haven’t been able to figure it out, and honestly, I don’t think I want to know.”

“Whatever it is, it’s pissing him off, so I’m all for keeping it up,” Kyle said. Him and Stan laughed weakly, before catching each other’s eyes, then quickly looking away, like they just remembered they were upset with each other.

Right. They were still being stupid about that.

They loaded the bus shortly after, avoiding Cartman who was sulking in the back row. Things got awkward as Kyle took his normal seat on the bus, and Stan paused halfway through taking his spot next to him. The two shared a tense look before Stan backed up and took the seat behind him. Kenny sighed heavily. Alright time for round two, he thought as he took the seat next to Stan.

“I’m not in the mood for a lecture,” Stan warned as Kenny sat down, taking off his hood so Kenny could hear him properly.

Kenny put his hands up in surrender. “Do I look like Kyle? I’m not gonna lecture you, dude.”

Stan scowled, “No, you’re just gonna say shit I already know and make me feel like an ass, like I don’t already, and try to convince me that I just need to talk to him and then everything will be better.”

Kenny was honestly impressed. It wasn’t word for word what he was planning on saying, but it was damn close.

“Well, I mean, yeah but-“

Stan didn’t let him finish, shaking his head and turning towards the window as Kenny began to rattle on.

“Dude, come on,” He pulled on Stan’s shoulder, making him face Kenny, if only slightly, “Why don’t you just talk to him?”

“You saw the look he gave me,” Stan gestured to Kyle in the seat in front of him, “You seriously think he wants to talk to me?”

“He wants this to be cleared up just as much as you do,” Kenny thought back to his brief conversation with Kyle back during gym. “He just… he doesn’t understand why you reacted the way you did.”

Stan’s cheeks flushed. “God this is stupid,” he muttered, “Why won’t he just say that?”

“Cause he’s just as stubborn as you are sometimes,” Kenny answered, deadpan. Stan frowned at him, but Kenny didn’t faulter, “Oh come on dude, you guys have this kind of misunderstanding like twice a month.”

“We do not!”

“Okay fine, twice a month is maybe a bit much. I guess it’s more bi-monthly, like, once every two months.”

Stan punched him in the arm, “I thought you were gonna take my side!”

“Hey, you were the one who didn’t want a lecture!” Kenny winced as he rubbed his arm, “God, why do you both turn to violence when you’re called out on your bullshit?”

As Kenny milked his “injury”, Stan’s eyes drifted towards the seat in front of him, towards Kyle, with a wistful look. God, that fucking heart-eyes look Butters had been talking about earlier. No wonder he thought there was something going on between “him” and “Stan”.

“What if I fuck it up again?” Stan asked, still looking towards Kyle.

“Then we’ll probably have this conversation again, like always,” Kenny shrugged, “But you won’t know for sure until you fix what’s going on right now.”

Stan sighed, finally turning back full towards him, “I guess you're right. Thanks Kenny.”

“You’re fucking welcome,” Kenny patted him on the shoulder, “Now please make up with that dumbass before something worse happens.”

Chapter Text

It was a weird place to be waiting for a text. Cartman’s room, sitting the on edge of his bed, hyper aware of just how well sound traveled in the house given he could make out the conversation between Cartman’s mom and Kenny with ease. It was weird enough to be in Cartman’s house without Cartman himself being there. That was something Stan was grateful for. If Cartman was here… God, he wouldn’t hear the end of it. Especially after his fucking “lecture” during gym, about why he was acting like a dick.

Okay, there was a lot that was said then, but the part that Stan seemed to replay in his mind was the fact that no matter what way he looked at it, him and Kyle’s relationship was utterly fucked. Not like they will stop being friends, he believed in what Kenny said enough to know that this was just a petty fight and Stan wanted nothing more than for it to end. No, not like that. More like… even if Stan got up the nerve to tell Kyle, he was either he was going to be too late, or just make things between them even more awkward than they were now.

He didn’t have a clue as to how he was supposed to explain his outburst during lunch without sounding like some jealous bitch. But you were acting like a jealous bitch- okay so maybe he was a tad jealous of the implication Cartman was making but given he had lost his ex to Tolkien once before it wasn’t entirely out of the realm of possibility.

But who was he to tell Kyle how to live his life? Kyle deserved the best guy in the world, and if that turned out to be Tolkien… so be it. It doesn’t mean that it wouldn’t hurt like hell, but if Kyle was happy, who was Stan to stand in the way of that? Despite everything, they were still best friends. They are best friends. Some stupid body swap wasn’t going to change any of that.

He was roused from his thoughts as Kenny stomped through the doorway, slamming the door shut, and rolling his eyes as he took a seat in Cartman’s desk chair.

“I don’t know when she decided she was gonna tolerate his bullshit again, but damn do I miss the woman who dragged Cartman’s ass out of that fucking hotdog house,” Kenny sighed. He looked Stan up and down, taking in his body language and sudden shock of his appearance. “What’s got you all worked up?”

“Oh, nothing,” Stan shoved Kenny’s phone under his leg in the least conspicuous way he could while being stared down, “Just lost in thought.”

Kenny raised an eyebrow. “So, it has nothing to do with that apology text you’ve been drafting since we walked here from the bus stop?”

Stan swallowed, “Course not.”

“Oh, we’re lying now?” Kenny laughed to himself, “If that’s the case, then I definitely believe you.”

“Dude,” Stan pinched the bridge of his nose, “Can I not just have things that are between me and Kyle without worrying about you and Cartman shoving your noses in it?”

“I’m sorry!” Kenny threw his hands up in frustration, “Maybe we’ll keep our noses out of it when you two don’t drag us down into your bullshit. I already told you we’re used to this, so excuse me for being curious!”

“That doesn’t give you guys the right to say the weird shit you do! You both take it over the line all the time,” Stan scoffed, “I don’t need you guys taking about Kyle’s ass, it’s just weird.”

Kenny face twisted in confusion. “What the fuck?”

Stan dragged a hand down his face, “God, I don’t want to get into that right now.”

“No, no, no, what was the context for that?” Kenny was sitting on the edge of his seat, “You can’t just drop something like that in the conversation like it’s something we’ve discussed before.”

“Whatever dude, it’s not the point,” Stan sighed, waving away Kenny’s concern, “What I’m trying to say is that I want to take things with Kyle at my own pace, and I don’t need you and Cartman trying to rush me into anything, alright?”

Kenny blinked at him before his confusion from Stan’s earlier tangent turned into a knowing smirk. “I think that’s the closest you’ve been to actually admitting you like him out loud. Congrats.”

Stan’s cheeks flushed, quickly turning away from Kenny. “Shut up, dude.”

The phone under Stan’s leg vibrated, the sound of which was loud enough to even catch Kenny’s attention. Stan would never admit how much his heart started to race as he pulled it out, waiting to see what Kyle’s response was. His heart sank as he realized the text wasn’t from Kyle, but instead from Butters.

“What’d he say?” Kenny asked, scooching the chair closer and closer to the end of the bed to read over Stan’s shoulder.

“It’s not Kyle,” he shook his head, eyes skimming over the text popped up in his screen, “It’s from Butters-“

The name had barely left his lips when Kenny reached over and snatched the phone from Stan’s grasp, quickly wandering over to the other side of the room as he opened it. Weird, Stan thought, why would Kenny care so much about a single text? He leaned back to get a better view of Kenny’s face hoping that would give him a tad more insight, but Kenny didn’t look worried or stressed about the message and was instead… smiling?

“I could have typed something up for you,” Stan offered.

“Nah, it’s fine. Makes more sense for me to do it,” Kenny waved him off, not even bothering to look up from the screen as he finished up his message.

“Okay,” Stan sat back up on the bed, eyebrows furrowed, “It’s just… it’s Butters, man, I don’t really think it matters that much.”

Kenny threw the phone back at Stan, which he scrambled to catch before it dropped on the floor. “Trust me, it matters, especially after your performance as me the last couple of days.”

“Rude,” Stan frowned, “Didn’t think I was doing that badly.” He looked down at the phone, now open on Kenny’s previous messages with Butters. Stan hadn’t really bothered to snoop through Kenny’s phone, but his curiosity was getting the better of him. Why would Kenny be so worried about texting Butters? “What did he even want?” He asked as he scrolled down to the most recent message.

“Hey!” Kenny snatched the phone from Stan’s hand once again, “That’s private, alright!”

“Woah, okay!” Stan put his hands up in surrender, “What’s the big deal, dude?!”

“Nothing!” Kenny answered quickly, “It’s not a big deal, it’s just some stupid text messages, why are we still talking about it?!”

Stan narrowed his eyes. Dodging the question, smiling while texting him, getting all defensive… Objectively speaking, Kenny was acting like Stan when he-

Oh shit.

“Kenny, do you… do you like Butters?” Stan asked cautiously.

Kenny’s rage dropped instantly, face paling as he avoided eye contact. “I… I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Bullshit!” Stan exclaimed, standing from the bed, “You’re acting just like I do when Kyle-“ He stopped himself as Kenny’s face shot up, both of them staring at each other in a panicked state.

“When Kyle what, Stan? Texts you?”

Stan felt his own heart start to race again. “I’m not admitting to shit!”

“Then neither am I!”

“Fine!” The two stood in silence for a beat, before Stan frowned, “So, you do like him? I’m confused now.”

Kenny rolled his eyes, “Jesus we are going in fucking circles.” He muttered to himself, before exclaiming, “Yes! Alright, I admit it! I like him! Is that what you wanted to hear?!”

Stan wasn’t entirely sure if that was what he wanted. It was… unexpected to say the least. He honestly hadn’t realized that Kenny was into guys, let alone Butters of all people. It explained why he was so eager to have Butters help the group, and it explained why Butters had been so awkward with him in the hallway lately.

He lowered himself back on the bed. “No, that’s… I’m happy for you dude, I just, I had no idea.”

“Was kind of the point, but thanks.” Kenny rubbed the back of his neck.

“Did you not want to tell us or something?” Stan asked, “Why didn’t you say anything sooner?”

“I mean, you guys never really asked,” Kenny answered honestly. He looked disheartened, which made Stan feel kind of shitty about pressing the subject further. “You, Cartman, Kyle, you’re all worried about your own stuff all the time and… my life never really comes up, so I just never mentioned it.”

Stan’s brow furrowed. “That’s not-“ he wanted to deny it, but the more he thought about it, the more he realized Kenny was right. He couldn’t even remember who Kenny’s last girlfriend was. Tammy? Was that her name? Why had they broken up? Stan never even bothered to ask. “Shit man, that’s… I’m sorry, Kenny.”

Kenny laughed, “Dude, what are you apologizing for? It’s fine, I’m used to it.”

“That doesn’t make me feel any better about it!” Stan exclaimed, but Kenny chuckled to himself and shook his head.

“Hey, if I had a problem with it, I would have said something sooner,” he plopped himself back on the desk chair.

Stan still wasn’t too sure, but figured that if he kept pushing it, things probably wouldn’t stay this chill. That being said, he still had a million questions about the whole thing.

“Can I ask one thing?” Stan brow furrowed in confusion, “Of all the guys in school… Butters? Seriously?”

Kenny rolled his eyes. “And you wonder why I didn’t want to tell you guys.” He muttered before swiveling the chair around to face Stan, “I get he’s not your type or whatever, but Butters is probably one of the most genuine and kind people I’ve ever met. Sure, he can be a bit of a pushover sometimes, but he always looks for the best in people despite all that’s he been through.” Kenny smiled softly, as if recalling a memory. “Honestly, I feel like I’m too much of a bad influence on him sometimes, but… I don’t know when it really clicked. After we got to middle school, I started hanging out with him a lot more and...”

Stan couldn’t help but smile. Hearing Kenny talk about Butters was so much more different than how he’d talk about girls he liked in elementary school. It felt far more personal. Taking the leap from platonic feelings to romantic. The leap of faith that Stan was still too chicken to jump himself.

“When you guys hang out, it’s like you don’t need anyone else?” Stan offered as Kenny’s voice trailed off, “You both just get each other so much that you can’t imagine being that close with anyone else.”

“Yeah, kind of like that, I guess,” Kenny chuckled to himself, “Guess you’ve had a bit more time to articulate feelings like that than I have, huh?”

“Wha-“ Stan’s voice got stuck in his throat and he felt his cheeks go warm, “I mean, feel like I could have made it sound a bit more romantic if that was the case.”

“Seemed pretty romantic to me.”

The phone in Kenny’s hand lit up once again, this time with a notification from Kyle. Kenny tossed the phone back to Stan, “Here ya go, knock yourself out.”

Stan scowled at him but opened the phone and read the text.

Is it cool if I just facetime you dude?

Feels weird to just text you about this.

“Get the fuck out,” Stan ordered pointing towards the door with one hand as the other quickly typed up a response.

“What? I’m not going anywhere,” Kenny scoffed, “This isn’t your room!”

“It’s not yours either,” he argued.

“Touché,” Kenny put his hands up in surrender, as walked over to the door slowly, “I’ll be in the basement if you need me. And don’t respond to any texts from Butters while I’m gone.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Stan waved him off, looking back at the phone and quickly reading over his response.

of course dude! call whenever i’m just chilling

He sat on the edge of the bed, leg bouncing with anticipation as he stared at the phone screen. He still hadn’t thought about just what he was going to say to Kyle. He was going to apologize, that much he was sure of, but past that… he felt like any lie he could come up with would just fall flat. Kyle knew him well enough. While part of him contemplated just telling Kyle right then and there, he knew facetime wasn’t exactly the best method for a confession.

As another minute passed, the phone screen lit up, vibrating with an incoming call from “Stan”. Heart racing, Stan pressed the accept button, messing with the fringe of Kenny’s hair as his own camera popped up, seeing just how disheveled he looked. Thankfully as Kyle’s own image loaded, he didn’t seem any better, his hair was rustled, hat long gone, and it looked like he had just collapsed by the door of Stan’s room.

“Have you heard of the Great British Bake Off?” Kyle asked the second he popped up on Stan’s screen.

“Hi to you too,” Stan greeted, “But, uh, yeah I’ve heard of it.”

“Good. Apparently, that’s your dad’s new obsession.”

Stan groaned, “No, no, no, please don’t tell me he’s back in his Food Network phase.”

Kyle laughed, “Thankfully it doesn’t seem as bad as last time. And it’s like, hyper focused on that show. He tried chasing after me with a loaf of bread because he wanted to know if I thought it was ‘over-worked’.” Kyle used finger quotes around the word, saying it an exaggerated British accent. Stan must of frown at the voice, so Kyle continued, “Oh yeah, with the accent and everything. It’s awful.”

“I don’t think I can apologize enough on his behalf, dude,” Stan shook his head, sliding off of the bed to the floor, using the end of the bed as back support, “I’d invite you to chill with me and Kenny at Cartman’s house, but then I think Cartman might throw a hissy fit about him invited.”

“You know he would!” Kyle exclaimed, “Not too sure which would be worse though.”

“Fair enough,” Stan sighed, “Surprised we've tolerated him for this long if I'm being honest. It's weird though. Even with Cartman being an ass, I honestly kind of miss just hanging out with you guys like this. I miss being with you guys at the bus stop.” He shook his head at just how crazy he sounded, reflecting on the past like it was more than just two years ago.

“God, I miss you there, too,” Kyle mused, a tone in his voice that Stan couldn’t quite place over the phone. It didn’t last too long as Kyle’s eyes widened and he quickly backtracked, “I mean, we all miss you there. I wasn’t trying to say that the other guys don’t miss you or anything, I was just… hyperbole, you know?”

“I guess?” Stan raised an eyebrow. It was nice to just… talk with Kyle again. God, he was such a dork, they had been talking like this just this morning, why did it feel like it had been days? “So, uh…” he had to bring it up one way or another, no matter how much his stomach twisted and turned in knots, “About earlier today.”

“Oh yeah,” even Kyle seemed to deflate at the reminder, “Look dude, I’m sorry I- I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that and…”

“No, dude, I’m sorry,” Stan quickly apologized as Kyle stumbled over his next words, “I don’t really know what got over me and I shouldn’t have been such a dick about it.”

“I was being a dick too! I was already just so wound up from Cartman, I shouldn’t have taken it out on you,” Kyle sounded frustrated with himself, which is exactly how Stan felt. There was a pause as both boys sat in silence, Stan grateful that at the very least Kyle didn’t question why he had acted out. But in thinking back on the day, he remembered just one thing that brought a smile to his face.

“Hey dude, did you see Cartman during gym? Fake laughing at like everything Tolkien was saying?” he asked, already holding back a smile.

Kyle’s somber mood lifted, laughing as Stan brought it up. “Oh my god, that’s what he was doing? He made me look like such a dick!”

“I have no clue what he was thinking, it looked weird as hell,” Stan laughed along with Kyle, “God, I feel bad about the cleanup you’re gonna have to do.”

“Maybe he’ll finally stop. Whatever you said to him at the end of the day seemed to piss him off enough.”

Stan hoped that was the case. Maybe if he kept bring up Cartman’s… would it be considered a Freudian slip?  Whatever, if he kept bring up his fuck up, the guy would get the hint that he was doing more harm than help.

“I’m sure he’s had his fun,” Stan said, “And, not to beat a dead horse or anything, but I am sorry that I believed him for even a second-“

“Stan, really it’s okay,” Kyle quickly cut him off, “I’m good to forget that all happened if you are.”

“Yeah no, for sure,” Stan exhaled a breath of relief, dodging probably the biggest bullet in the conversation Stan had anticipated, “I’m more than ready to forget this body switch ever happened.”

“Preaching to the choir,” Kyle nodded in agreement, “Speaking of though, I have one important question for you.”

“Oh?” Stan perked up at the sudden shift in Kyle’s voice, “Shoot, dude.”

“So, your hair is a greasy mess right now, and I was going to take a shower,” Kyle had stood up, and from the movement, Stan could tell he was walking towards the bathroom, “But when I looked to see what kind of stuff you use for your hair, I found this.” He grabbed something from out of frame, then showed off the bottle of 2-in-1 shampoo and conditioner that Stan used.

He titled his head to the side in confusion, “Okay. So, what’s the problem?”

Kyle dropped the bottle from the frame, utter disbelief and disappointment written on his face. “You seriously put that shit in your hair?!”

“Well, yeah, it saves time, dude.”

“Do you realize how awful that is for your hair? You need to take care of that shit before you lose it.”

“I’m not going bald by age twelve dude,” Stan shook his head, “My hair isn’t as high maintenance as your hair, I guess.”

Kyle scoffed, “It’s not about maintenance, dude. You know, maybe your hair would be a lot softer if you used an actual conditioner sometimes.”

Stan laughed at the ridiculousness of the conversation, “Why the hell do you care about my hair so much? Not to say that I don’t appreciate you looking after my body-“

“Oh shit, I should have asked. You don’t mind if I do? Take a shower I mean.” After how Stan was just accosted for using 2-in-1, he was surprised at the gentleness and sincerity in Kyle’s voice as he asked him.

“Of course, dude. I don’t mind,” Stan answered. Looking at how everything had panned out, he had gotten the best deal out of this body swap. There was no one he trusted with his body more than Kyle, and the guy just kept proving him right in that regard.

“Oh, good. Sorry, totally slipped on checking in with you on that stuff and I didn’t want to make things weird or anything.”

“You’re the last person I’m worried about making it weird,” Stan reassured him, “However, I don’t think I would have gotten shamed about what type of shampoo I use by the other guys.”

“Well, excuse me for having standards in hair care!”  

The two chatted for what seemed like hours, about nothing, small things, how their day had been, almost like it was a normal day. After a while, Kenny’s phone was close to dead, so Stan had to cut their call short. After plugging it into the nearest charger, he made his way down to the basement, where Kenny had uncovered some ancient gaming console, playing some early generation Chimpokemon game.

“Guess you guys talked it out?” He asked as Stan walked down the stairs, “I was tempted to come back up but didn’t want to interrupt anything.”

“Yeah, we smoothed things out,” Stan brought over a sad looking bean bag chair to where Kenny was placed in front of the tv, “Is it that weird to use 2-in-1 shampoo and conditioner?”

Kenny shot him a confused look, “How the fuck did that come up?”

“Kyle was shaming me for it, but I swear to god that’s normal, right?”

“I mean, my family’s got this 4-in-1 stuff we use,” Kenny shrugged, “So, it’s looking like Kyle’s the odd man out once again.”

Stan frowned. “I get the third thing would be body wash, but what’s the fourth?”

Kenny paused, his cursor on the screen lingering over a possible attack for his Chimpokemon to use. “I honestly have no idea.”

Stan watched Kenny play video games until the two were called up for dinner. They made light conversation with Liane, Kenny still seemed too awkward to insult her half as much as Stan assumed Cartman did, but she didn’t seem to mind. She even excused them from the table early, letting them head back downstairs to keep playing games. Sure, they both had homework, but with none of them in the correct classes, it felt like a weird waste of time. And Stan would pick video games over homework any day.

They had switched over to Mario Kart at some point, both of them getting their asses kicked by the Tanuki Mario NPC when Kenny’s phone started vibrating like crazy. Well, it wasn’t Kenny’s phone, that was still charging upstairs. Rather, Cartman’s phone was vibrating. Stan caught a quick glance at the phone’s caller ID. Butters.

“What could he want now?” Stan asked as Kenny picked up the phone.

“Not a clue,” Kenny muttered before he answered the phone bringing it to his ear, “Butters, what’s going on?”

While Stan couldn’t make out what exactly Butters was saying, the fact that he could hear his voice pretty well was concerning. He was talking fast, too fast for Kenny to even comprehend what he was saying.

“Woah, okay, Butters calm down. What did you hear?” Kenny asked after the rambling became a bit too much. Stan watched as Kenny’s face shifted from confusion to panic.

“Shit, are you sure?” Kenny locked eyes with Stan. He didn’t make any moves to put the phone on speaker, so he was still left in the dark as to what was about to go down.

“Okay, okay, I’ll see if I can get Kenny and Kyle to tag along. We might need the back up,” Kenny waited for a response before hanging up the phone. “We have a lead on the body swap machine.”

Stan felt a weight lift from his shoulders. “Are you serious? What kind of lead?”

“Turns out Mephesto’s meeting with some faculty at the school. Tonight. Like super soon.”

Stan jumped up from the bean bag, “I’ll text Kyle, see if he can get down here- “

“We don’t have time to wait for him,” Kenny interrupted, standing up with Stan, “We need to get over to the school asap. I’ll text Cartman so he can try and sneak out.”

“Wait,” Stan put a hand out, stopping Kenny in his tracks, “So we can keep bring Cartman along, but we don’t have time to get Kyle involved? He’s effected by this too.”

“I’m not saying that’s he’s not,” Kenny argued, “But the farm is an hour out of town. If we wait for Kyle, we may miss Mephesto.”

“But-“

“Stan, we don’t have time for this,” Kenny pushed passed him, rushing up the stairs, “Grab my phone and meet me outside.”

Stan didn’t feel too good about this. As much as he wanted information about their body swap situation, it felt wrong to leave Kyle out of it. But it also made him wonder, how much stuff had he been left out of just because he was too far out of town? How many spontaneous trips had he not been invited too because he wasn’t close by?

It shouldn’t have bothered him as much as it did. Regardless, he swallowed his pride, and followed Kenny up the stairs, making sure to grab his phone from the charger before meeting him outside the house.

Cartman was already running over by the time Stan was closing the front door. He was wearing Kyle’s pajamas, with his green jacket thrown on top. “What the fuck is going on?” he asked as he got closer, “Would it have killed you to let me in on what’s so fucking urgent?”

“We’re heading over to the school,” Kenny informed him, zipping up his own jacket, “Mephesto’s gonna be there to talk with some of the faculty. But we should get going, Butters wasn’t sure about what time they were supposed to meet.”

“So, we might have had time to text Kyle?” Stan muttered pointedly towards Kenny as Cartman let out a groan of annoyance.

“What? Butters? You’ve got to be fucking kidding,” Cartman ran a hand down his face, “Can I not have one night of peace?”

“After the shit you’ve pulled today, no way in hell,” Kenny grabbed him by the arm and started dragging him down the block towards Butters house, ignoring Stan almost entirely. Stan sighed heavily, and followed them, dragging his feet along the sidewalk.

Butters was already outside by the time they arrived, nervously looking between the front door and the group. “Took ya long enough,” he kept his voice low, “We should get going, if my parents realize I snuck out I am so grounded.”

“When is that not the case?” Cartman asked, annoyed and not making any attempt to keep his voice down. Kenny had dropped his arm before they had got in Butters’ view, but he looked half tempted to knock some more sense into him.

“Let’s just go before we miss him entirely,” Kenny sighed, taking initiative to lead the group past the Stotch household and towards the school. Cartman rolled his eyes, but followed, leaving Stan and Butters trail them.

After Kenny’s whole confession earlier, Stan had to recontextualize a lot about his previous interactions with Butters from the past few days. The way he tripped over himself around Kenny, the handful of time he checked in on him. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that the feelings were mutual between the two. Of course, that only made things worse for Stan. Suddenly, everything he did, everything he said mattered so much more because there was someone who knew Kenny well enough to tell if he was acting weird.

In simpler terms, Stan was fucked.

He desperately wanted to rush to the front and ask Kenny for any tips and tricks, but he knew that would just look weird, and he couldn’t exactly ask him about stuff like that with Butters in ear shot. All he could hope for was that Butters wouldn’t initiate conversation.

But Stan’s life couldn’t be that easy.

“So, do you have any idea why Cartman cares so much about this electron transfer machine?” He asked Stan before they had even passed the end of the neighborhood.

“Not a clue,” Stan lied, “I’m just glad I’m helping him now. Might be spared from whatever his plans are.”

Butters laughed quietly, covering his mouth so Kenny and Cartman couldn’t hear, “Let’s hope that’s the case. It would suck an awful lot if we went through all this trouble to help him out for nothing.”

Stan shrugged, “Think that’s pretty typical, though. Unfortunately.” Butters hummed in agreement, and Stan thought that was the end of it. But once again, he was proven wrong.

“Ya know, I think it’s really sweet of you to help Stan out the way you have,” Butters said as the group made their way past the bus stop. Stan was confused, for several reasons, the main one being his own name being thrown in the mix.

“What do you mean?” He asked, hoping he could get a tad more context for whatever lie Kenny had forgotten to update him on.

“Oh, just like hanging out with him, talking with him more,” Butters explained, “I’m sure it’s been weird, trying not to pick sides between him and Kyle.”

Picking sides? What could-

Oh, right, him and Kyle were supposedly fighting right now. That must have been the excuse Kenny had come up with. Stan kicked himself for not reading the text Kenny had crafted for Butters, would have helped him in the long run if it meant upsetting Kenny in the short term.

“They’ll both come around eventually,” Stan reassured Butters, thinking back to his conversation with Kenny on the bus, “They do this all the time. It’ll be over by tomorrow.”

“Oh I hope so,” Butters eyes shifted forward towards Cartman with a grim look, “I feel kind of bad for them,” He turned back to Stan, “I mean, to not realize after so many years. I don’t know how you and Cartman do it.”

Stan felt a lump start to form in his throat. God, so everyone did know about his feeling for Kyle?? Great, just great. It was only a matter of time before Kyle was able to piece it together, that is, if he hasn’t yet already.

He would ask if there was anything else that could go wrong, but that felt like tempting the universe just a bit too much.

He opted instead to just shrug, looking away from Butters back to Kenny, who was making decent time in getting the group to the school. He had pulled out his phone flashlight to help their vision, which meant they didn’t need to stick to the sidewalk paths with streetlights. After taking a short cut around the back of the community center, they passed their old elementary school and found themselves in the parking lot of the middle school.

Stan clocked four cars parked in the normal faculty spots, and a van pulled up to the curb. He figured the van must have belonged to Mephesto.

“Keep an eye out for any lights on inside, we need to figure out where they’re meeting,” Kenny ordered as he started making his way to the back of the building. As Cartman and Butters instantly started looking up at the building, Stan took this as his perfect time to talk with Kenny.

“Hey Mysterion, might want to cut out the vigilante shit before Butters starts asking questions,” Stan whispered harshly, looking back quickly at Butters.

Kenny frowned, “I am not-“ he stopped himself, “Is it that obvious?”

“You’re being just a tad too tactful,” Stan clocked the other getting closer behind him, and started pushing and Kenny further in the direction he was already wandering.

“Ugh, I don’t have it in me to go full Cartman right now,” he groaned.

“You’ll be fine, just… just let me take lead.”

Kenny seemed skeptical. “Are you sure you’re good with that?”

“Would you rather it be Cartman?” They both looked back at said friend, who was yawning, wandering aimlessly in the same direction for them. He couldn’t even pretend to act like he was helping? “Just help me deal with Butters so I don’t fuck things up for you.”

That did seem to perk Kenny’s interest a bit more. “Fine,” He sighed, “Sorry in advance.”

“You act like I don’t also hang out with him,” Stan chuckled, walking past Kenny and taking lead of the group. As he rounded the corner, he knew he hit the jackpot. He could see light from a window and the shadows of three adults over the empty and dark courtyard. He whistled quietly to get the guys attention, motioning for them to head in his direction.

They slowly made their way over, making sure to stick close to the wall as to not get noticed right away.

“That must be where they’re meeting,” Stan pointed up towards the window on the second story, “I think that’s the staff room.”

“Why the fuck would they meet at school at night?” Cartman asked, rubbing at his eyes.

“Why so tired, Kyle? Missing your bedtime?” Kenny shot back in a teasing manner, patting him on the head for added effect. The way Cartman’s eye bugged out of his head made Stan nearly burst out laughing.

“Move your hand, or I cut it off,” He growled, grabbing Kenny by the wrist, and looking him dead in the eye. Kenny’s face faltered, nearly breaking character as Butters walked up to his side, shushing them as he approached the wall.

“Sneaking inside is gonna take a bit, and I think the janitor is still working so we’ll probably get caught,” Butters was thinking this through pretty meticulously. Stan kept forgetting the guy was actually pretty competent when he wanted to be.

“What does that leave, scaling the building?” Stan asked sarcastically, but the look on Butters face made him question if he had taken him seriously. “Oh no.”

“Well, it could work,” Butters titled his head to the side as he looked up the wall, tracking a possible trail.

Stan followed his eyes. He couldn’t be serious, right? Sure the ceilings in the school weren’t terrible tall and he could make out a decent ledge near the staff room window, but if Stan fell, there was no way he was just going to be able to walk away.

He spared a glance towards Kenny and Cartman for some type of moral support. Kenny shrugged, hand still on Cartman’s head despite the killer look on their friend’s face. So much for helping him out.

“I’ll, uh, I’ll probably need a boost,” Stan looked back to Butters, then to the ledge again. It would have to be one hell of a boost. He was already regretting taking lead.

There was a pause before Stan heard a shuffling from behind him. “Kyle, give him a boost,” Kenny ordered.

“You fucking give him a boost!” Cartman snapped back.

“Ugh, fine! Since you’re acting like such a bitch about!” Kenny exclaimed already walking towards Stan and Butters. He winked at Stan as he lowered himself to the ground, cupping his hands together to act as a step. This was seriously such a bad idea.

He took in a deep breath and placed his foot in Kenny’s hold.

“Please don’t drop me,” he said, voice shaking as readied himself.

“Just don’t fall,” Kenny suggested as he heaved, launching Stan up ever so slightly. His hands caught the edge of the windowsill, his feet flailing around for some support. Great advice, Kenny, he thought as he pulled himself up more, hadn't thought about that before!

It was a slow process, climbing up a wall with no support. There was little to no places for him to grab, and he was sure his hands were going to be all starched up from the rough bricks he had kept pawing at as he tried to hold on. This looked far more exciting in action movies. He felt slightly better about his progress as the light from the staff room became more visible in his peripheral and he managed to grab a hold of the windowsill of the room they were in.

“-appreciate you allowing me to come in on such short notice.” Mephesto was still greeting the trio of adults in the staff room as he was able to pull himself into the window. His voice was still audible despite the glass, which Stan was relived for. He recognized PC Principal, Vice Principal Strong Woman, and Mr. Mackey almost instantly as he was able to catch a glimpse in the window.

“You made it seem very urgent over the phone,” the vice principal rationed, “And if there are students are in danger, then it should be handled as soon as possible.”

“Do you have any idea which students might have tampered with the machine in question?” Mackey asked, sending a chill down Stan’s spine. Mephesto had figured out they messed with his machine. They were so screwed!

“Unfortunately, I don’t have any video or audio recordings in that room, so I’m not entirely sure,” Mephesto explained, which did calm Stan down every so slightly, “But it could be any number of the students in the seventh-grade class that was visiting.”

“M’kay, that doesn’t exactly help narrow it down any.” Mackey muttered, clearly annoyed with the lack of helpful information Mephesto was providing.

“Regardless of which punk-ass seventh graders it was, what exactly did they do?” PC Principal asked, arms still crossed over his chest. Stan wondered if he was even aware of how often he posed like that.

“Based on the levels the machine reported, it seems a group of them set off the Electron Swap and Transfer Device, which could have any number of side effects on the human mind,” Mephesto turned his back to the other adults dramatically, “You see, I’ve never tested it on living beings before. Mostly because I was never able to get in contact with the original inventor. That was, until I saw it had gone off during the field trip, then I managed to get a hold of a man who claims to be associates with the original inventor.”

Stan lifted himself further up on the windowsill. He was actually able to get some contact with someone who knows how this sci-fi machine works? Was the end of this nightmare really that close?

“Thankfully the machine’s effect on people isn’t lethal, just a simple transfer of brain waves,” Mephesto continued. Stan scoffed, if only it was that simple, “However, he warned me that it’s limits have yet to be tested long term. There was a brief test of the theory behind the machine a few years back, but all test subjects weren’t under it’s effects for very long. Under twelve hours, I believe.”

“So, then what’s all the worry about?” Vice Principal Strong Woman asked.

“Whatever students managed to turn that thing on have been under the effects of the machine for over 48 hours,” Mephesto turned back to the group, a grave look on his face, “It’s unprecedented. And based off the information I received, I worry that if we don’t find out who they are, the effects will become permanent.”

 Stan’s eyes widened in fear. No… no, no, no, no, this was bad, this was worse than bad, this was-

His foot shifted ever so slightly from the break in the grout, timed with his looser grip on the windowsill, and his body fell. “Shit!” he cursed out loud as his fingers fumbled for a better hold, slowly slipping further and further down.

“Kenny!” Butters called up in concerned, “Hang on!”

“I’m trying!” Stan shot back, kicking his feet closer to the wall to try and find his foot hold from earlier.

“What on earth is going on out there?” He heard the vice principal ask, quickly followed by the sound of her chair moving backwards. Oh fuck!

“Shit, guys, you need to hide!” Stan warned, waving them away from the wall with his feet as best he could.

Butters looked up at him confused, far more concerned that he might fall, but Kenny caught on quick, grabbing Butters and Cartman by their shirts and throwing them behind a nearby dumpster. Stan heard the window above him open as the three of them vanished from his field of vision. He tried to press himself up against the wall as best he could, heart beating fast from the adrenaline of falling, and the overwhelming panic from Mephesto’s warning.

Permanent. This whole thing could be permanent if they didn’t switch back soon. How soon? Days? Weeks? Or did they only have hours?

Should they just turn themselves in now? Risk the detention they would surely get just to make sure they don’t have to live out their days in the wrong body?

“Must be some cats in the bushes or something,” Vice Principal Strong Woman muttered, shutting the window, and heading back to the table. Stan exhaled in relief and went back to trying to get his proper foot hold. He didn’t notice the group come out of hiding right away, but knew better than to call out for them, especially after what just had happened.

He finally found the foot hold, and slowly lowered himself to the next window, hands never leaving the brick wall in case he leaned a tad too far back. He wasn’t close enough to ground for that landing to be soft.

Stan had made it down to the next story window, contemplating jumping into the dumpster when the window he was using as support opened. His hand slipped from its grip in surprise, but he was caught before he fell all the way. They pulled him into the room slowly, careful with him so that he wouldn't get knocked up against the window frame. Butters had a death grip of his shirt, his other hand tangled in Stan's, as Kenny kept hold of one of his legs. Once he was on his feet, Butters embraced him in a tight hug.

“Don’t you scare us like that, Ken,” His voice was muffled as he buried his head into the crook of Stan’s neck, but he was eighty percent sure that Butters had been crying. He awkwardly returned the hug, his eyes meeting Kenny’s, silently asking if it was the right move. Kenny nodded aggressively, which Stan took as a good sign.

“Sorry, Butters,” He apologized, “I’ll try to be more careful.”

“Ken?” Cartman asked, raising an eyebrow at the whole display, which earned him a slap on the arm from Kenny. “Hey! Don’t fucking hit me!”

“I didn’t hit you!” Kenny argued, throwing Cartman’s petty energy right back at him.

“That’s enough you two!” Butters warned, releasing Stan from the hug.

“He fucking started it!” Cartman exclaimed.

“It doesn’t matter who started it,” Stan walked up, placing himself in between Cartman and Kenny, “We just need to get out of here, now.”

Few words were exchanged as the four of them snuck back through the halls of the school to the open door that led to the courtyard. They made a mad dash across the pavement to keep out of the light coming from the one occupied room and didn’t stop till they were halfway to the community center. They were all panting harshly, Kenny more so than the others, as they came to a stop, Stan himself collapsing in the snow. He thought it might help calm his mind, but it only made his clothes feel slightly damp. Not ideal.

“Please tell me… you didn’t almost… fall off a building… for fucking nothing,” Kenny said in-between deep breaths.

Stan stood up, dusting the snow off as best he could. “Not for nothing,” he shook his head, “Mephesto was able to get in contact with someone who knows how the machine is supposed to work. Or at least, theoretically how it’s supposed to work.”

“He was?” Butters asked, “Was it an email or something?”

“Not sure,” Stan shook his head, “Maybe a phone call, he didn’t say. But it was recent.”

“Oh hamburgers,” Butters placed his head in his hands, “I’m going to have to do so much more digging.”

“Yeah, you…” Kenny coughed, his panting under slightly better control, “You should get back on that Butters.”

Butters groaned in agreement. He ran his hands through his hair, then turned back to Stan. “Was that all you were able to hear?”

Stan made brief eye contact with Kenny, then Cartman before looking back towards Butters. “Yeah, that was it.” Butters nodded solemnly.

“Alright then, see you fellas tomorrow,” He waved them all goodbye as he trudged through the snow back to his house.

“What else did he say?” Cartman asked once he was sure Butters was far enough away.

“Turns out there were other people that tested this thing,” Stan explained, “But they were only under it’s effects for like, a day basically.”

“So, then what about…” Kenny’s paused again, finally able to steady his breath, “Jesus you are out of shape, Cartman.”

“Ay!”

“We’re the only ones who’ve been under its effects for this long,” Stan picked up where he left off, his stomach turning with anxiety as he got closer and closer to the fact he’d been trying to forget, “And Mephesto thinks… any longer and the effects might be… permanent.”

Despite the poor lighting from the moon and nearby streetlights, Stan could see the color drain from Kenny and Cartman’s faces.

“Like permanent permanent?” Cartman asked, eyes wide in panic.  Stan nodded.

“Did he- did he say how long we have?” Kenny added on, desperately looking for any shred of hope in Stan’s face.

“Anyone’s guess is as good as mine,” Stan shrugged, “Guys… what are we doing? We need to tell the adults, we can’t risk not getting switched back.”

“Are you serious?!” Cartman cut in, “You do realize how fucked we are if we tell the teachers?  We’ll have detention for the rest of the year!”

“Would you rather be stuck in Kyle’s body for the rest of your life!?” Stan snapped, his harsh tone making Cartman flinch. “I get you want to have your fun fucking with Kyle, but if we don’t fess up, Kyle’s life becomes your life.”

Cartman scowled, finally at a loss for words. He looked towards Kenny for help, but he seemed just as defeated as Stan felt. “There has to be another way- “

“Cartman, there is no other way,” Kenny interrupted, “Stan’s right. There’s no way we can keep this up forever.”

Despite everyone still being against him, Cartman didn’t want to back down. “Fine then! Tell the teachers everything!” He exclaimed, throwing his hands up in frustration, “See how good of a case you can make without me there!” Before Stan and Kenny could fight him on it anymore, Cartman parted from the group, following Butter’s trail back to the neighborhood and back to Kyle’s house.

“He’ll change his mind eventually,” Kenny said, but he didn’t sound too hopefully.

“God, I hope so,” Stan shoved his hands into his pockets, fumbling around for Kenny’s phone. “I’ll update Kyle. He should know before Cartman convinces him to rally against us.”

Kenny laughed half-heartedly, “I doubt he would, not after the bullshit Cartman’s pulled.”

Stan wasn’t too sure. He was still convinced there was something Cartman had over Kyle that was keeping him somewhat civil. Kyle hadn’t outright denied it, and it would explain why Cartman was so worried about them turning themselves in. After rummaging through his pockets, he managed to pull out the phone, careful not to cut himself on any the cracks on the screen.

He was surprised to see a notification from Kyle when he turned it on. It was from an hour ago. Upon opening the phone, he realized it wasn’t just one message, but a whole slew of them, including a picture. He frowned as he read the last text, a jumble of words that were almost all spelled incorrectly and made no sense.

“What’s wrong?” Kenny asked, sensing the confusion from Stan.

“Just got some weird messages from Kyle,” Stan muttered, and scrolled back up to the top of the unread messages, “What the fuck is he- “ His voice was caught in his throat as he clocked just what the picture Kyle sent was.

Kyle wasn’t supposed to find that. Kyle wasn’t ever supposed to find that.

Stan was an idiot. He hadn’t touched it in months, why the hell didn’t he hide it better, or better yet just throw it away?

“Stan?” Kenny’s voice sounded closer, but Stan hadn’t look up from the phone yet to be able to tell for sure, “Everything okay?”

No. No it wasn’t okay. He opened up the picture to full screen, but he was already certain of what it was.

It was a half drunk bottle of whiskey. His half drunk bottle of whiskey. An old coping mechanism he hadn't used or thought about in months, almost a year, really. That was, until he saw the picture.

A fear washed over him as he scrolled through the rest of the messages. It wasn't just a fear of what Kyle had thought when he had uncovered the bottle, but rather a fear for what it might have to do with the unintelligible message Kyle had sent him over an hour ago.

Chapter Text

There was a wave of dread and relief as Kyle hung up the phone. Relief that he had just overreacted about everything, and Stan was on the same page as him, but dread over just what he had told Stan he was going to do.

Kyle hadn’t really thought it through as well as he should have. He was more focused on just how greasy Stan’s hair was and wanted nothing more than to clean it before it became his worse sensory nightmare. He hadn’t really processed just what a simple fucking shower would entail. Thankfully Stan didn’t seem too worried about it, mostly because he had no idea why it was far more awkward on Kyle’s end than it was on Stan’s.

He had half considered wearing a swimsuit, but that was starting to sound more and more ridiculous the more he considered it. Kyle just needed to get over himself. Stan clearly didn’t mind, so he shouldn’t make that big of a deal out of it. 

Sighing heavily, Kyle stood up from the floor, and started stripping down to just the base layer of clothes he had on. Removing the jacket, flannel, shoes, and socks, till he was just in a t-shirt and jeans. It was silent enough in the hall that he hoped he wouldn’t be bothered going in and out, and quickly made a dash from Stan’s room to the bathroom.

It wasn’t until he had closed and locked the door, taking in the bathroom as he thought through every meticulous step, that he realized he had left the two-in-one shampoo and conditioner on the edge of the sink. He must have forgotten to put it back after asking Stan about it. He shook his head as he picked the bottle back up, it was such a stupid thing to get defensive about. He placed it back on the rack that hung from the shower head, each shelf filled with various products that Kyle assumed belong to Stan and his sister Shelly. 

Kyle turned the facet on the bathtub, letting the water run as he took off his shirt and jeans. He sat them down on the sink counter, keeping his eyes off the mirror as best he could. It was for various reason, first being Stan’s privacy, and second being his own hopes. It was just like when he was changing in the locker rooms. He couldn’t just look at a cis-guy and project those standards onto himself, no matter how much he found himself doing just that. It wasn’t good for him.

It took longer for the water to heat up than he had first thought, giving him ample time to loiter around the bathroom in nothing but his underwear. He thought about Stan and Kenny, just chilling in Cartman’s house like everything was normal, like it was just some extended sleepover that only Liane Cartman would be okay with. Kyle’s own mother would never allow his friends to stay over for more than one night- especially on a school night.

Truthfully, she’d been a lot harder on his friends staying over any night as of late. At first, Kyle thought it might have something to do with the boys just getting older and that sleepovers were too childish for them. But the more he thought it over, the more he realized that she was paranoid on Kyle’s behalf. She had never liked his friends staying over when he was younger, but ever since he’d started middle, since all his friends (himself included) started the wonderful transition into puberty, she had been far stricter about it.

His mom, who usually would stand her ground, and was incredibly outspoken about what she believed in, was always incredibly contradictory when it came to Kyle’s transition. She was perfectly fine with the haircuts, the clothes, the name, nothing more than just cosmetic stuff. But the second he had brought up puberty blockers around fifth grade, she lost her damn mind. Worried it was going to stunt his growth or something along those lines, worried that it would do some irreversible damage to his body. His dad was no better, telling him that Kyle should just wait it out, and trust that his mother was doing what was best for him.

But Kyle had done the research, Kyle had practically begged, but it was to no avail. And here he was now, one slip up with Cartman away from being outed in front of the entire school, and his mom was more worried about Stan staying the night.

His thoughts faded away as he saw steam coming from the water facet, indicating that it was defiantly hot enough now. He pulled up on the spout, changing the water from the bath facet to the showerhead.

Well, here goes nothing, he thought before quickly taking off his underwear and stepping into the shower. The hot water felt great against his skin, relaxing his tensed shoulders. He ran his hands through his hair, letting it soak up the hot water. He kept his eyes closed for the most part, only opening them to grab the much-needed products for said hair. He opted to not use the two-in-one, despite all of Stan’s claims that it was normal, instead using some generic looking brands, bottles mostly full. Kyle assumed it must be for guests to use if they stayed more than one night, which would explain their lack of use. It seemed it wasn’t only the guys that didn’t like visiting the Marsh family farm.

He stayed in the shower much longer than he needed too. It would be some of the only true alone time he would get in the house for ages, and he needed to soak that in as long as possible. It was the one place where his brain didn’t feel like it was going into overdrive, over thinking every breath he took in Stan’s body. It was the one place he could disconnect.

When the water started to get colder, he knew his time was up, turning off the facet. He slipped his hand past the shower curtain, grabbing one of the few towels on the nearby hooks, hoping he could reach one without having to open the shower curtain any more. His fingers managed to grasp onto one, which he pulled back into the shower quickly, wrapping it around his chest before opening the shower curtain all the way. As he stepped out of the tub, he caught a glance of himself in the mirror once again. Stan’s dark hair was slicked back, still dripping water, his shoulders and arms tinged slightly pink from the hot water.

Looking himself over in the mirror, more than he had allowed himself to do the past two days, he realized something was wrong with the image. He glanced down at the towel, wrapped high up, covering his chest like he normally would have it… but he didn’t need to have it there. Slowly and careful, he dropped it down till it was sitting at his waist. Something he hadn’t dared try since he was a kid, when it didn’t fucking matter.

He didn’t look back in the mirror. He was too scared to. In that moment, Kyle would admit that he was a coward. It was such a simple thing, such a stupid thing, that Kyle was hitting himself internal for making such a big deal out of it. Even looking down at himself… there was a warm bubbling feeling in chest.

In a panic, he grabbed the pile of clothes off the counter and rushed back into Stan’s room. He didn’t notice until he was behind the closed door that he had conveniently been holding the clothes in front of his bare chest. He groaned in frustration as he dropped the pile, plopping himself down on the bed as he held his head in his hands. Why was it so hard to just fucking get over himself? 

Was it just because it was Stan? Would he be freaking out this much if he was in Kenny’s body? Or -God forbid- Cartman’s body? He honestly didn’t know for sure. Probably not. But it shouldn’t be this weird. He had seen the others shirtless numerous times, including but not limited to their water park trip last summer. Thankfully, Kyle had kept suspicions off him after making another big stink about the amount of pee in water park pools- which he was still incredibly concerned about- but it meant the others didn’t push for him to go swimming with them. In hindsight, he wasn’t sure why he had even agreed to go with them given his general distaste of water parks after that one trip in the fourth grade.

As he felt the hair on his head start to dry, strands falling into his face, he decided to put the whole thing behind him. He had gotten done what he needed to, no need to push it any further.

After a quick wipe down with the towel, he slipped on a new pair of underwear and dried his hair. While a towel dry didn’t quite finish the job, it at soaked up most of the water that had been dripping down his back. He didn’t bother brushing through it, rather styling around Stan’s part so it would air-dry in a more natural way. 

He tossed the earlier discarded clothes into a full laundry basket and frowned. When was the last time the guy did laundry, he thought as he wandered over to Stan’s dresser. There was still plenty of clothes to choose from, so it didn’t matter. Kyle figured doing Stan’s laundry might be just a tad too much. He opened the drawers, rummaging through them as he tried to find some sweatpants, something causal to wear for the rest of the night since it was too early for pajamas. 

In the first drawer he managed to pull out an ancient Crimson Dawn t-shirt that Stan had handmade for his band ages ago, along with an even older looking Terrance and Phillip shirt. Kyle knew Stan was sentimental- and a bit of a hoarder- so it shouldn’t have come as a big surprise. Just looking at them put a smile on his face. 

He put the older shirts back, closing the first drawer and moving onto the bottom one. It was just as messy and unorganized as the top drawer, much to Kyle’ dismay, but he still dug further. The half of the drawer that looked like it was meant for pajamas looked more promising, so he started there, inspecting each item throughly before grabbing another. As he went to the shift the pile, however, his hand hit something that definitely wasn’t clothes.

He scowled, moving his hand around blindly in the pile onto he grasped onto the object. It felt like a glass bottle of some kind, Kyle’s hand wrapped around the neck. Odd, he thought, what kind of glass bottle would Stan need to hide-

His stomach dropped. He could only think of one thing.

Shaking his head in disbelief, he pulled the bottle out of the drawer, uncovering it in the dim light of Stan’s room. Alcohol. Whiskey, to be more technical, as specified by the label Kyle could read. It was half-empty, the seal on the lid looked like it had been open for quite some time.

A million thoughts rushed through Kyle’s mind at the same time, each one worse than the first as he tried to rationalize just what the fuck- why the fuck Stan had this. 

It could be his dad’s, Randy hiding the bottle in his son’s room sounded just up his alley but was unlikely. Or Stan was just hiding it from his dad, keeping it out of his reach in case he decided getting high on a weekday wasn’t enough of a buzz. But that didn’t explain why it was just the one bottle, or the lack of warning from Stan.

Stan… it had to be his. A not so recent memory came to Kyle’s mind, one of a ten-year-old Stan ranting and raving in a drunken state, trying to win back Kyle’s friendship after a week of acting like an apathetic dick about everything. He vividly remembered a lot of the things Stan’s had said, namely “I love you” quickly followed by a “fuck you”. Kyle hadn’t known what to do about all of that. Stan following in his father’s addictions, his insistence that things could go back to the way they were… saying that he loved Kyle. 

Even now, that… that was something Kyle didn’t want to tread on. He knew how Stan had meant it, and Kyle wasn’t going to let himself believe otherwise. He had meant it in as a platonic, “we’ve been friends for years and saying it wasn’t abnormal”, kind of way. He had said that to Stan in the same way multiple times when they were younger, and even now. Kyle’s feelings for Stan may be more than just platonic, but that doesn’t change that their years of closeness had meant that Kyle cared about his well-being or enjoyed spending time with him. It was just an extra layer of feelings that Kyle had to deal with during every interaction since he realized it.

And with these feelings, he couldn’t help but feel betrayed as he stared down at the bottle. Stan had never been entirely upfront with his drunk confrontation, and Kyle never pushed it, but if this had been an issue since then…

Did Stan not even trust him enough to tell him?

Maybe he was a hypocrite. He wasn’t being entirely honest with Stan either, but this felt worse. Kyle’s secret really only affected him in the grander scheme of things, but if Stan fell of the deep end like Randy-

He stopped himself in thought. It was too far, comparing him to Randy just like that. He needed to give Stan the benefit of the doubt. There had to be a good explanation for everything. He picked himself off the floor and grabbed his phone, snapping a picture of the bottle in his hand before placing it on Stan’s bed. He sent the photo to Stan along with as a string of reasonable and non-accusatory texts that he could muster in his storm of thoughts. 

Hey dude, so I wasn’t trying to snoop through your shit or anything but I found this in your dresser.

I’m trying not to freak out but I’m worried, dude. Is there a reason you have this?

Just call me?

Or text me

Whenever you can

Kyle wasn’t usually a double texter, but he wasn’t exactly thinking straight. He watched the phone like a hawk as the minutes passed by, waiting for the read receipts to change from “delivered” to “read”. But it was to no avail.

Maybe he was having dinner with Kenny? He did say his phone was nearly dead by the end of their call, so maybe he had just left in plugged in. Or maybe he had seen the photo from the home screen and decided he wasn’t going to open the messages until he could figure out a good way to respond.

Okay, that wasn’t very like Stan. Even if he didn’t respond to a text right away, he would at the very least like the message to show that he had read it.

He wasn’t sure how long he had been waiting when his felt his eyes start to drift from the phone to the bottle. His thoughts still eating away at his mind. Why Stan would keep this from him, why was it in such a shitty hiding place, and- hell, was it even real booze?

Kyle shook his head as he set down the phone, picking up the bottle once again, this time, unscrewing the cap. He sniffed at it but wasn’t too sure if he could really determine its authenticity from just that. Frowning, he brought the bottle to his lips and took a swig. The liquid burned as he swallowed, and Kyle coughed as he took it away from his mouth. Definitely real, he thought as he quickly reached for a water bottle to chase it.

Even with the water, he felt the warmth of the alcohol trickle down his throat to his stomach. It was an unsettling feeling, not to mention the awful taste. But as it settled, he wasn’t sure how to articulate the feeling all too well but… he felt that undying headache he’d had in the back of his mind all week start to dissipate.

Kyle’s stomach turned once again.

He picked up the phone to send another text when the bedroom door slammed open. Kyle yelped covering his still bare chest with his arms as he turned to face the intruder, beat red in embarrassment. His eyes met Shelly, Stan’s older sister. She looked uninterested in Kyle’s current state, lamely leaning against the door frame.

“Get out!” He scowled, gritting his teeth as he desperately looked around for a sweatshirt or something.

“Calm down, turd,” Shelly rolled her eyes, voice whistling through her braces, “Mom says to come down for dinner.”

“Oh,” somehow, Kyle felt even more embarrassed about lashing out, “I’ll be down in a second.”

“You better put on a goddamn shirt,” she cursed as she left the door frame and headed downstairs. She left the door open, much to Kyle’s dismay, but it wasn’t like he was going to need any more alone time.

He ran back over to the dresser and grabbed the first things he saw- sweatshirt and sweatpants- and put them on. As Kyle started to leave the room, his eyes caught the bottle once again. Stan should see his message soon. He would have some answers soon. He tucked the bottle under the sheets before leaving the room and making his way to the kitchen.

Dinner was quiet, if not entirely because of Randy’s absence. Kyle could see the barn light on from the kitchen table, and after the spats between him and Sharon, he shouldn’t have been too surprised by Randy cowering away in the weed farm. 

“So, Stan, how was school today?” Sharon asked as they slowly ate their meal.

“Uh, fine,” Kyle answered, not too sure how he could possibly explain all the drama without going insane. His eyes met Shelly, who had an eyebrow raised in his direction in doubt. Kyle scowled, just what would she know about all that’s been going on?

“I know we’ve talked about it before,” Stan’s mom ignored the stare down between her two children, “But I checked your grades again today. You need to start turning in your homework. It looks like you haven’t caught up on anything.”

Just seeing Sharon so disappointed in him made Kyle’s stomach drop in anxiety. “I’ve been working on stuff,” it was the truth, Kyle had been working on some of Stan’s late work, mostly to keep himself busy. He was vaguely aware that Stan struggled with that part of school, but it felt invasive to know it was a more serious issue with his parents, “I’ll turn it in tomorrow.”

Sharon sighed, “You keep saying that, Stanley, but I just…” she briefly looked out the window towards the barn, “Okay, I’ll check again at the end of the week. And if I find out you’re lying young man, you’re going to lose video game privileges.”

“I understand,” Kyle looked back down at his meatloaf. Stan’s relationship with his mom was different than Kyle’s. He wondered if his rocky relationship with Randy was in any way a reason why. That wasn’t to say that Kyle’s relationship with his parents was perfect. In fact, none of the guys had picture perfect family lives, each of their parents were flawed in their own right. And Sharon… she had to put up with so much bullshit. She always cared so much, not in the overreacting way Kyle’s mom did.

Dinner was relatively quiet afterwards, mostly due to Shelly’s lackluster answers to her mom’s questions. That was, until the porch door opened. Kyle was the only one to look up, despite knowing just what exactly it was. Randy. Even from this distance, Kyle could tell his eyes were red, the smell of pot slowly settling in the house. He looked back and forth between Stan’s parents, but neither seemed to acknowledge the other. Kyle lowered himself in his seat, picking at the food on his plate, appetite suddenly gone.

“I’m heading back up, got some homework,” Shelly spoke quickly, clearing her plate from the table. Kyle could sense the frustration behind her words, and her tense body language as she dumped her plate in the sink. She locked eyes with Kyle, only briefly, before looking away and heading upstairs. As he sat in between Stan’s parents, there was a sense of unease that filled his body, screaming at him to follow in Shelly’s footsteps and get the hell out of dodge.

“Yeah, same,” He kept his voice low, and avoided eye contact from either adult. It wasn’t until he had reached the stairs did either of them start talking, keeping their voice quiet. He couldn’t quite make out what they were saying, but part of him was relived at that. When he reached the top of the stairs, he noticed Shelly, standing in the door frame of her room. She wasn’t looking at him, her eyes focused on the small sliver of the living room that was visible from between the stair rails.

“How ugly do you think it’s gonna get?” She asked, still looking past him.

Kyle shrugged, glancing in the same direction as Shelly as the conversation downstairs escalated in volume for a brief moment. “Can’t be that bad.”

Shelly scoffed, “Didn’t take you for an optimist. Or have you just been too checked out these past couple of days?”

As Kyle turned back around, Shelly was looking straight at him. He felt the blood drain from his face as he tried to rationalize just what she was talking about. Maybe she knew about the bottle Kyle had found, or maybe she was just talking about how Kyle had been distancing himself from the Marsh family to avoid suspicion about his behavior and how Stan-like it really was.

“Relax, turd, cope how you want, I don’t give a shit,” She shook her head, pushing herself off the door frame and further into her room, “Just don’t be stupid, alright?”

He swallowed harshly, nodding, “Okay.”

Shelly didn’t give his reaction a second thought, closing the door behind her, leaving Kyle alone in the hallway, still unable to make out any small piece of the downstairs argument. Normally, he would be thrilled to be going back to Stan’s room but right now… He just wanted to go home.

It was stupid, he wasn’t a little kid, he didn’t ever get homesick. But right now, what he wouldn’t give to be in his own room, his own bed, with his parents who didn’t hate each other’s guts.

Despite his hesitation, he entered the room again, closing the door behind him as he started to get ready for bed. He didn’t know what time it was, and frankly, he didn’t want to know. Who gives a shit how early he went to bed? The sooner he went to sleep, the sooner he could move on from all this.

As he changed into his pajamas, he was acutely aware of the phone sitting on the bedside table, taunting him as he ignored it. He wasn’t sure if even wanted to see Stan’s response, but not getting one was just as nerve wracking. Before he even touched the phone, he tossed the bottle of whiskey under the bed, so it could be somewhat more out of sight and out of mind.

There was a sinking feeling in Kyle’s gut as he saw no new notifications pop up.

He stared at the text conversation between him and Stan. The messages were still on delivered. Scowling, he placed the phone back on the bedside table and pulled himself deeper under the covers. It wasn’t like Stan, to just ignore him like this. It also wasn’t like Stan to hide things from him. Especially things like this. The thought still made him feel sick. Had he been wrong this whole time about just how close the two of them were? Had he misinterpreted his friendship with Stan his whole life?

But every time he started to doubt, his mind would remind him that he was just as bad. That he was doing the exact same thing and for what? Because he was scared? Because he didn’t want it to change things between them? Because he couldn’t stand the thought of Stan treating him like some kind of other, as if he wasn’t always the odd man out in the group?

Why couldn’t Stan just respond to a goddamn text?!

He squeezed his eyes shut, letting out a shaky breath. He wasn’t going to cry. He had made it three days of this hellscape without crying, he could make it through one shitty night. His mind didn’t slow down as the minutes passed by, and he didn’t feel any more tired than when he had gotten into bed. He was hyperaware of every breath he took, every tiny movement his hand made, every slight adjustment to his position, all of which seemed to keep him awake.

This made the sudden noise of the bedroom door opening even more terrifying. His heart skipped a beat as he shot up, whipping his head around to the door. Kyle had to squint as he faced the open door, the light in the hallway too bright compared to his dark room. But there, standing in the doorframe was someone Kyle had been avoiding all week. Randy Marsh.

“Oh, good, you’re still up,” he grumbled as he dragged his feet towards Stan’s bed, sitting down on the end as Kyle stared at him in shock.

“What are you-“ Kyle started to ask, his voice slightly scratchy, “What do you want?”

Randy scowled at him, like Kyle was somehow the one in the wrong for asking when he was the one who just burst into his son’s room with zero warning. “Didn’t think I needed a reason to talk to my son,” he rolled his eyes. His words were slurred, and Kyle could smell the alcohol on his breath.

Kyle was no stranger to a drunk Randy Marsh (unfortunately), but that was in a vastly different context than now.

“Just wanted to check in, ya know?” Randy shrugged, “Feel like I haven’t really talked to you the past couple of days.” Kyle’s eyes darted to the other side of the room. While he hadn’t been actively avoiding talking to Randy, he wouldn’t say he was making an effort to talk with him either. It’s fair to say he’s had a lot of other things to be stressed about lately.

“I’m fine,” Kyle lied, hoping if he just answered the questions, maybe he would get left alone again.

“Aw, come on, you can tell your old man,” Randy playfully punched Kyle’s shoulder, “Don’t tell me your still getting worked up about that Wendy girl breaking up with you.”

What is he talking about, Kyle thought, Stan had told him it had been a mutual thing, even telling their friends that he initiated the breakup. Confusion overtook his frustration, and he turned back towards Randy, “Wendy didn’t… I broke up with her.”

Randy seemed to mirror Kyle’s own confusion, “So you were locking yourself in here, crying, cause you broke up with her?” He scoffed, shaking his head as he stared back out into the hallway, “Yeah, that seems likely.”

Kyle felt his chest start to heat up, feeling the need to defend his actions, even though they weren’t really his own. But it once again ignited that doubt, that concern that maybe Stan wasn’t being as honest with him as he once thought. But why would he lie about his breakup with Wendy? Why would it matter who broke up with who?

Maybe it was something about his dignity, or maybe the ego hit of being the dumped and not the dumper. He could see why he’d want to keep that from the others- Cartman would have a field day with information like that- but did he really think Kyle would care about something so superficial?

“You know you can talk to me about this kind of shit, right Stan?” Randy continued, “If anyone in the house can understand you right now, it’s me.” He turned back to Kyle, “Cause if I’m being honest, talking man-to-man, I don’t want you to get too soft. Women are gonna walk in and out of your life, and you’re gonna need to learn to let them go quickly.”

Kyle frowned in disgust. That was not the direction he was thinking this talk was going, and he could feel his respect for Randy dropping with every word. Saying Stan was getting too soft… Stan’s been like this since they were kids. He always cared too much about people, animals, he was always the most understanding of all of them. It was one of the things that Kyle liked about him the most. His ability to see the best in everyone- well, everyone expect himself most of the time.

“I know the first heartbreak is always the hardest,” Randy lamented, throwing an arm around Kyle’s shoulder, and pulling him close. Kyle’s body stiffened at the contact, but before he could get a word out, Randy kept going. “But I can tell, you’re gonna be a real ladies’ man in the future.” He looked down at Kyle, the dumbass smile on his face dropping as he made eye contact, finally clocking his disgusted stare, “Or, uh, a real mans’ man, I guess. Cause… you, uh, you like boys too, right?”

Kyle glared, not even the least bit surprised that Randy would forget his own son’s sexuality, like Stan hadn’t freaked out for weeks about telling his parents, even conceiving a back-up plan to crash at Kyle’s in case things got too weird or out of hand. Even after that intense PC hazing from a few years ago couldn't keep Randy from acting the least bit normal about the whole thing.

“Hey, don’t give me that look,” Randy scolded, “I’m getting better, alright? Your mom keeps saying I’m not, but I am trying. You think so, right Stan?”

He’s got to be fucking kidding, Kyle thought, biting his lip to keep from laughing harshly at the implication. He shoved Randy away, “Thanks for the advice, dad,” he spat, voice dripping with resentment, “Can you please just leave me alone?”

“God, when did you become such a fucking pussy?” Randy shook his head, frowning as he looked Kyle up and down, “Is it because of that Kyle kid? I knew you should have stopped hanging out with him.”

Kyle’s blood ran cold at the mention of his own name. “What do you mean?” he asked, quietly.

Randy rolled his eyes, waving away Kyle’s question. “Is he the reason you think you like guys or something? I know I joked about that stuff when you were kids, but I didn’t think you would take any of that seriously. Especially since Kyle’s…” he paused, searching for the right words, but seemed to remember something of importance in his drunken state, “Oh, right, shit, you kids aren’t supposed to know. Sheila’s always such a bitch about that, ever since you were kids.”

No…. no, no, no, please don’t be talking about that, Kyle thought, fighting back the swell of tears that were beginning to surface as he realized just what Randy was trying to tell him. “Then maybe you shouldn’t tell me-“

“No, no, fuck her, you should know,” Randy interrupted, putting a hand up just a little too close to Kyle’s face, “She’s always on a high fucking horse about it, but like, I don’t get why it’s gotta be our problem, ya know? Kyle will grow out of it eventually and then what are we gonna do?”

Kyle really wasn’t liking the turn this conversation had taken, and every word that exited Randy’s mouth felt like one gut punch after another. He wanted to tell him to shut up, to get out of the room and leave him be, but he couldn’t bring up the courage to say a single word. He just sat there, throat tightening, too scared to even breathe.

“It’s not like you can just ignore it,” Randy shook his head slightly, completely unaware of just how uncomfortable Kyle had become, “Your mom keeps saying it’s not a big deal, but if Sheila’s kid doesn’t want to be a girl, I don’t see how that has to be our problem now.”

Kyle’s heart dropped to his chest. No, not just dropped, more like it had been ripped from his chest. His eyes welled up with tears. Why would he… how could he…

“Stan?” Randy’s voice sounded like it was a thousand miles away, so distant as Kyle’s mind numbed to everything around him. “Aw shit, I didn’t think- Look, just ignore everything I just said, okay? If your mom finds out I told you she’s gonna kill me.”

His stomach turned. He just outed Kyle to who he thinks is his son and he’s more concerned about getting in trouble with his wife than he was Stan’s feelings- fuck, Kyle’s own fucking feelings?!

“Get out,” Kyle’s voice was quiet, his hands beginning to tremble as his grip on the blankets tightened.

Randy raised an eyebrow, confused, “What did you just- “

“Get. Out.” He spat, standing from the bed, and pointing towards the open door. He didn’t notice just how much he was shaking until he was standing.

“Stan,” Randy scowled, “Just calm down- “

“Now!” Kyle yelled, voice cracking as the tears he was trying to hold back spilled from his eyes. He took a sharp breath in as he brought his hands to his face, wiping them away as he sensed Randy slowly stand from the bed and leave the room.

At the sound of the door closing, Kyle collapsed to the floor, letting out a heartbroken sob. He didn’t want to believe what just had happened. If it hadn’t been him… if Randy had actually been talking to Stan in that moment…

Everything Kyle wanted to say, everything he could explain, all of that would have been taken from him in one fucking sentence in a drunken ramble.

Of fucking course his mother had told his friend’s parents. How could she?! Was she really that convinced that he was just… going through a phase? Was she that determined to cover all her bases in the slim to none chance that would happen? All those years where she would stand by supportively, was that all just an act for her?

It was no wonder she was so up in arms about him starting HRT.

More sobs wracked through Kyle’s body, his pent-up anger and frustration from the week coming to a boiling point.

He hated this. It was all too much. He just wanted it all to stop. He just- he just needed it all to stop!

Through his tears, in between shaky breaths, he saw that the tiniest bit of light slipped through the small crack in the door, catching the glass bottle of whiskey Kyle had placed under the bed earlier.

Kyle wasn’t sure if it was Stan’s own muscle memory in action, or a lapse of reasoning in his own mind. Regardless- in that moment, he reached for the bottle. Without any hesitation that he had shown earlier, he twisted off the cap, and starting drinking. It still burned as it went down his throat.

What the hell was he doing?

He didn’t know just how long he sat there, on the floor, drowning his sorrows in whiskey. He had stopped crying at some point… he wasn’t sure when. Was the room swaying slightly or was that just him?

This was a bad idea.

He grabbed Stan’s phone from the bedside table. Scowling at the lack of any message. What a dick. Kyle wondered what he would think about all that fucking bullshit Randy had talked about. His mind was a whirlwind as he typed up a new message, letting his thought out in a stream of consciousness, not stopping for even a second.

This is wrong… this is all wrong.

He dragged himself back up on the bed as his eyelids grew heavy. Why did he still have his phone in his hand? Whatever, doesn’t matter, just need to sleep. Sleep off everything. Maybe in the morning everything would make sense. Everything would be… normal again… right?

~~

The knocking on his door sounded more like gunshots as they forced Kyle awake. He groaned as he moved his hands to cover his ears, squeezing his eyes shut even tighter. His head felt heavy, and as he started to come to, and he felt slightly nauseous.

“Stan, honey! You need to wake up, the bus will be here soon!” Sharon’s voice called out from behind his door.

He scowled as he slowly moved his hands away from his ears, carefully opening his eyes to the most blinding sunlight creeping through his blinds. He quickly turned around as he realized just how bad it was, which only caused his head to throb more and the nausea to spike.

He must have slept past his alarm, he thought as he slowly sat up, but why the hell did he feel like he was dying? As he swung his legs over the side of the bed, his foot hit something cool. The second he clocked just what it was, his stomach dropped, and things started to click into place.

The bottle of whiskey, now empty, rolled to the other end of the room, only stopping once it hit the overflowing laundry basket.

Shit.

Before he could he question himself, he remembered his conversation with Randy last night.

Oh god, what the fuck was he thinking?!

In a panic, he rushed after the bottle, and shoved it back into the drawer he had found it in the previous day, like that would undo everything.

This… This was worse than bad. This was worse than any bullshit Cartman was going to put him through today. This was…

“Stanley! I will not warn you again!” Sharon yelled from downstairs, causing Kyle’s heart rate to spike even more.

This was something he was going to have to deal with later.

As he got ready, he couldn’t quite get his hands to steady out, shaking tugged on a flannel and zipped up his jacket. His body felt drained, head still heavy, and exhausted despite how much he had slept in. He kept his footsteps quiet as he descended down the stairs, every loud sound from the rest of the Marsh family causing his head to throb in pain. He was planning on just ignoring them all, heading straight for the door, when he was turned around by Sharon. She looked frustrated until she caught sight of Kyle's face, eyes softening.

“Stanley, are you alright?” She asked, bringing a hand to the side of his face, brushing his hair out of his eyes. But without thinking, Kyle shoved her away.

“Yeah, I’m fine, don’t want to be late,” he grumbled as stomped through the door.

“Stan-“ she tried to ask, but whatever else Sharon was going to say got cut off as he closed the door behind him. It felt colder outside than Kyle was used to, and the snow on the ground was too bright as it reflected the sunlight. He rubbed at his eyes as he walked down the driveway, just in time for the bus to roll up to its stop.

As Kyle boarded the bus, he noticed Tolkien in his normal seat look up at him with concern, but Kyle walked by quickly, taking his own normal spot and sinking further down into the seat to avoid any conversation.

The shaking of the bus was unbearable, and worse, the more people got on, the louder it got. This was a fucking nightmare of his own creation. School wasn’t going to be much better, but maybe he could get an ibuprofen from the nurse or something. That would help, even if it was only slightly.

As the bus pulled up to his usual stop, he took in a deep breath and sat back up, doing his best to put up a façade that nothing was wrong, that nothing had happened the night before. His smile faltered the second he saw Stan walk on the bus.

He looked… pissed wasn’t a strong enough word, but enraged wasn’t it either. It was more distain, betrayal as he met Kyle’s eyes for only a few brief moments before looking away.

He had been wrong the night before, when he had thought Randy outing him was like ripping out heart, cause just that look… Kyle would rather Stan just rip out his heart and crush it in front of him.

Kyle tried to catch Kenny’s eyes, but was met with a identical reaction, Kenny keeping quick pace behind Stan as they made their way to the back of the bus. Could they tell just from looking at him? What was going on?

He didn’t even get a chance to call out to them when he felt a shift in his seat. Cartman. Kyle shouldn’t have been surprised, he was probably just going to gloat about something, but when he looked at him, there wasn’t his normal shit eating grin Kyle had come to expect.

“You know, for one of the smartest people I know, you are so fucking stupid,” Cartman sneered as the bus doors closed and continued its route.

Kyle scowled, “What the hell are you talking about?”

Cartman raised an eyebrow, “Oh, gonna play dumb, are we? I’m talking about going on a fucking bender while in Stan’s body in case your too fucking hungover to remember that shit.”

Kyle’s throat went dry. But Cartman wasn’t done.

“Least you could have done was text the guy back, but I guess you’re really taking this method acting thing to the next level,” he scoffed, shaking his head slightly.

Text him back? But he never texted… Adrenaline spiked through Kyle as he whipped out Stan’s phone, frantic to open his messages. He saw a large block of text he had sent the night before, he couldn’t make out what he had typed, but Stan’s replies were sobering.

kyle what happened

i can explain the bottle but please tell me you didn’t do what i think you did

kyle please answer me

please dude

“Now here’s where I’m confused,” Cartman stroked his chin in thought, “Just what the hell could have possibly happened in the hours between you accusing Stan, and you drunk messaging him?”

“I didn’t mean to,” Kyle’s voice was quiet, holding his phone in a death grip, blood running cold as he read the messages over and over again.

“Oh, you didn’t mean to?!” Cartman exclaimed, just loud enough to catch the attention of people in nearby seats, “My apologies then, I guess everything’s a-fucking-okay because you didn’t mean to. What kind of bullshit excuse is that?”

“Like you have any fucking room to talk!” Kyle snapped, “If you haven’t been driving me up the wall all week, blackmailing me then-“

“Then what!? I wasn’t fucking there, egging you on,” Cartman pointed out, “I didn’t put the fucking bottle in your hand, that’s all on you.” He laughed to himself, “And to think, I’ve been trying to help you out. Get you closer to him. If I had known you were going to blow it all on your own, I wouldn’t have put in the effort.”

“Oh my god, stop pretending you were ever helping me!” Kyle voice cracked, “You don’t care about me! You only care about your stupid plans, you couldn’t give less of a shit about how anything you did affected me!”

“You are such a fucking hypocrite,” Cartman shook his head in disappoint, “But I guess the difference between me and you is that… I’m not the one constantly lying to my friends.”

Somehow, that was the straw that broke the camel’s back, the floodgates opened once again. As more tears welled in Kyle’s eyes, Cartman stood up.

“A little advice,” He offered, voice loud and clear for all the students to hear, “There’s no hangover cure in the world that’s gonna fix all that.” Despite the movement of the bus, Cartman walked away to the back seats Stan and Kenny had taken. Kyle tried once more to meet their eyes, but Stan wouldn’t budge, and Kenny… the disappointment in his eyes was enough to make the tears finally spill over.

Kyle tried to steady his breath, control the tears, but it all felt for naught. He didn’t know what he could say to explain himself. It probably didn’t matter anymore. Even if Stan decided to hear him out… how could explain his actions without ruining things even further?

How could he look Stan in the eye and tell him the truth, knowing deep down… that maybe his feelings wouldn’t be so different from Randy’s?

Chapter Text

To say Eric had a rough night would be an understatement. He had been seconds away from going to bed when he got a vague ass text from Kenny, got dragged halfway across town to go to school, waited in the freezing cold only for them to get shit answers about what the fuck had happened to them, and then nearly got bullied into telling the adults everything by Stan and Kenny!

Yeah, no, fuck those guys. He honestly couldn’t believe they were being serious about all that. Maybe it would have been reasonable at one point, when no one had any idea of the mess they caused, but now that Mephesto had dragged the school’s faculty into it? Eric knew better.

As he trudged through the snow, making his way back to Kyle’s house, he wondered why the others couldn’t see it the way he could. Disregard the favors, and the fucking with Kyle, turning themselves in now wasn’t the right move. Their first offense, messing with a machine they were told not to touch was one thing, but add onto that lying to the teachers, their parents, and then revealing that they spied on their “super-secret” meeting… Eric knew a set up when he saw it.

Part of him considered that Mephesto might have lied about things becoming permanent, to get the teachers to find the culprits sooner. Make the four of them desperate enough to come clean. It wasn’t a dumb idea, and clearly it had worked on Stan and Kenny.

But then again, as much as he hated to admit it, Eric had been wrong before. And while there was a lot he could put up with, the thought that this body swap might become permanent sent a shiver down his spine. So, if this was one of the few times he was wrong, that meant he would be stuck as Kyle... forever.

He stopped in his tracks, just in front of the house. It was that doubt, that concern that kept his thoughts racing, that made him question just what he should do. Eric rubbed at his eyes and made his way up the walkway to the front door. He could just explain it to those dumbasses tomorrow and then they could figure out a plan.

He seriously doubted that they would hear him out, if recent events were anything to go by, but maybe he could get them to wait just a little bit longer. That’s all he needed, time, time to prove that there was something else going on.

It wasn’t hard work sneaking back into the Broflovski household, being careful to not slam the door, or step too hard on the stairs. As Eric collapsed back on the bed, winter coat thrown to some corner of the room as he desperately wrapped himself in the warm blankets, he remembered the terrified look on Stan’s face from earlier.

God, Stan’s journal had been a fucking bust. Nothing of note that he could use. Just a bunch if mushy song lyrics, scattered thoughts, and zero dates for him to compare to Kyle’s own journal. The difference represented them pretty well, Eric thought, but it did little to help him win his bet with Kenny.

Unless him or Kenny was able to get them to admit it in person, the odds of him finding out which of them fell first were slim to none. A real bummer.

Eric waved off his mild disappointment in his mind, and closed his eyes, waiting for sleep to wash over him. And while he did eventually fall asleep, it wasn’t for long. Or rather, it was more restless than it had been the previous night, each position he tried just felt wrong, or slightly off, and it was starting to piss him off. He hadn’t been checking the time, but if he had to guess when he had finally drifted off, it was probably three or four in the morning.

That was the only reason he could find as to why he felt like such shit when he woke up hours later, alarm blaring and sun shining through the window.

Despite not engaging in the ridiculous wall-climbing, fucking Mission Impossible antics of the night before, the amount of pain in Eric’s lower back as he woke up made it seem like he did. He tried sitting up, only for it to send a fun shock of pain up his spine. It wasn’t awful, but it did help wake him up, disregarding the tossing and turning he had done for most of the night. He half wondered if Kyle’s body was retaliating his choices to not side with Kenny and Stan. Those fucking assholes.

He went through the rest of the morning like he had the past two days- go through Kyle’s meticulous morning routine, have an awkward breakfast with his family, and then make his way to the bus stop. Eric was more worried about that last step than he normally was. He had been the one to leave the conversation last night, shutting down any idea that he was going to cooperate with any plan to tell the adults.

If he had to guess, he was either gonna get the cold shoulder from the both of them until he caved, or they would try to convince him he was being an idiot about it. He would honestly prefer the latter, since then he could at least explain his reasoning, whether they decided to listen to him was another thing.

As he made his was towards the bus stop, he spotted Stan and Kenny waiting, like they had the past few days. But the closer he got, he could sense the tension brewing. Not towards him, weirdly enough, they didn’t even seem to notice him walking up. Stan was far too busy glaring daggers at his phone, with Kenny over his shoulder, eyes darting between the phone and Stan himself.

“Maybe he just hasn’t seen it yet,” Kenny said as Eric got within hearing range of the pair.

Whatever Kenny was suggesting didn’t seem to strike a right chord with Stan, who instantly snapped back, “Oh, so he’s allowed to not answer right away, but I’m the asshole for not responding on the drop of a hat?!”

“I wasn’t trying to- I’m not saying it’s your fault I’m just trying to help-“

“Well fucking stop!” Stan cut him off, “He fucking knows what he did, and you defending him isn’t gonna help shit!”

“I’m not defending him,” Kenny took a step away from Stan, “I just want you to think rationally for two seconds.”

“The hell’s going on with you two?” Eric asked after a beat. Kenny met his eyes almost instantly, motioning across his neck frantically, telling him to stop while he still could. Stan just rolled his eyes.

“None of your business, Cartman,” he grumbled. Eric frowned. Oh, was that how they were gonna play it? No problem. Before Stan could say anything further, Eric swiped the phone from his hand, which was thankfully still open on recent messages. “Hey!” Stan exclaimed, reaching back for the phone, only to be knocked out of reach as Cartman turned his body, blocking the grab.

“If it involves Kyle, then it involves me, dumbass,” he scolded as he scrolled further up through the messages, “Kind of how this whole body swap thing works.”

“Cartman, it’s really not important for you to know,” Kenny had walked around Stan, also reaching for the phone, but Eric was faster, quickly moving it out of the way.

“And why the fuck is that?!” He snapped, “Keep me out of the loop of whatever plans you fuckers have to tell the teachers everything?!”

“It’s more personal than that, give up the phone, dude,” Stan demanded, still standing behind him. Kenny sighed heavily, holding his hand out.

“Don’t be a dick, Cartman. Just this once,” Kenny said solemnly. He wasn’t quite begging Eric, but the desperation was interesting. Eric hadn’t put too much effort into actual snooping through the phone yet, but there was something about their levels of concern that piqued his interest.

He smirked as he looked back down at the phone, reaching the top of a conversation from yesterday. He noted the time stamp of an incredibly long video chat, of which he was not surprised by, but he was more intrigued by the picture Kyle had sent Stan.

“Oh, so you’re pissed cause Kyle found out about your ‘not-so-secret drinking problem’?” Eric asked, chucking to himself as he scrolled further down. “Thought he already knew about that.” He sensed movement behind him, but only jumped in shock when Kenny darted in between him and Stan, holding the latter back.

“You son of a bitch!” he yelled, trying to push Kenny away, but it was to no avail, “Give it back!”

“Ooo, looks like some someone was a little mad,” Eric teased as he went through each message. ‘I’m trying not to freak but I’m worried’, what a fucking pansy. Is this really what you’re so upset about?”

“Cartman,” Kenny’s voice was stern, “Stop.”

“I’m almost done, piss off,” He waved off Kenny’s warning, just then reaching the odd block of text that had caught his eye when he first looked at the messages. It was a bunch of jumbled nonsense, not even the brief words that were auto corrected helped him make much sense of it. Almost like… “Oh.” He turned around to face Stan and Kenny, both meeting him with equally pissed off expressions. “So, that’s why you’re throwing a little hissy fit?”

With the phone now in sight, Kenny grabbed it from Eric’s hand, with no resistance from him. He had gotten the information he had wanted, no reason to struggle over it now.

“I didn’t see the messages until after the whole secret meeting thing,” Stan explained, taking the phone from Kenny and shoving it deep in his jacket pocket, “But- I don’t understand what the fuck made him think that was fucking okay?! I haven’t touched that shit in months!”

“You haven’t?” Eric asked, genuinely surprised, “How the fuck was Kyle supposed to know?”

Stan dug his hands into his hair, squeezing his eyes shut, “Fuck both of you! Honestly!” He exclaimed, “You’re all acting like this is all somehow my fault! Do you think I like drinking just to feel something sometimes?! So that I didn’t act like an apathetic dick so you all wouldn’t ditch me again like when we were ten?! When all I fucking needed were my friends!?!”

“Woah, woah, chill,” Eric took a cautious step forward, “That’s not what I was tryin-“

“No, cause it never is!” Stan snapped, whipping his head in Eric’s direction, “You never fucking think before you say some bullshit, so that way you can act like the fucking victim all the damn time! I don’t care what you trying to say. I don’t care if I should have said something to Kyle sooner, cause that doesn’t fucking matter right now. And I wish someone other than me would understand why that’s so fucked up.”

For a moment, Eric felt his heart sink as he stared back at Stan. The guy did have a point. It was super fucked up, and Eric was sure neither him nor Kenny were arguing that it wasn’t. Stan didn’t need to drag Eric through the mud, but the guy was pissed, what else was there to say? Even Kenny couldn’t come up with some retort or redirect to calm everyone down. He must have done his fair share of managing emotions the night before and that morning.

But all that being said, there was still one question in Eric’s mind. Just what the fuck had Kyle been thinking? The guy couldn’t be that stupid without a valid reason.

The bus pulled up to the stop as the question dawned on him. Stan was the first one on, not evening giving a second look to Eric or Kenny as he stomped up the steps. They followed close behind, both exchanging confused and worried looks. It was hard not to spot Kyle as they walked into the bus. His eyes bags were atrocious, the state of his outfit and hair, messily shoved under Stan’s hat, made it clear he had gotten ready in a hurry, and then there was the look on his face. His eyes were following Stan, who was keeping his head down, making a beeline towards the last row of seats. He looked hurt, heartbroken, all of which just pissed Eric off.

Kenny passed by Kyle’s seat without a second glance at their friend, much like Stan had, but Eric paused. Maybe it’s because he wasn’t as mad as Stan was, or because he hadn’t been as involved in the situation like Kenny was, but he knew that ignoring Kyle forever was a mistake. So, he sat down, right next to him.

He cut right to chase, questioning, judging, but hoping to get the slightest bit of an idea as to what had happened with Kyle. But Kyle seemed far more interested digging into Eric’s own agenda as of late. Funny how both him and Stan would rather insult Eric’s character than recognizing their own faults.

“You are such a fucking hypocrite,” Eric told Kyle flatly at the end of their conversation, “But I guess the difference between you and me is that… I’m not the one constantly lying to my friends.”

As Kyle’s bottom lip trembled, eyes welling with tears, Eric stood up from the bus seat, deciding in that moment that maybe a little public humiliation would knock some sense into him. “A little advice,” He offered, his voice loud and clear, “There’s no hangover cure in the world that’s gonna fix all that.”

He sauntered to the back of the bus, taking a seat across the aisle from Stan and Kenny, the latter of who was now giving him the stink eye.

“You don’t think that was a bit much?” Kenny asked.

Eric scowled. “I’m sorry, is there no way for me to win this situation?!” he shot back, “I thought the issue was that I had taken the wrong side earlier? I make my stance clear and suddenly I’m the asshole now?!”

“Not when you’re airing my dirty laundry for the whole fucking class to hear!” Stan spat in a whisper.

“I’m just stating the obvious, anyone with eyes was gonna make the connection regardless of what I said,” Eric pointed out.

“That doesn’t make it okay to say that shit,” Kenny argued.

Eric shook his head as he leaned back into his seat, “Yeah, yeah, say whatever you want just cause you didn’t have the balls to actually tell him yourself.”

Both Stan and Kenny didn’t say anything else to him the entire way to school, giving him the silent treatment he had been anticipating that morning, but now, for a vastly different reason. He couldn’t believe how petty they were being, especially Stan. Was he just gonna sulk and ignore Kyle? What the hell was his endgame in just shutting him out?

He couldn’t stand either of them with their usual pining bullshit, but he hated how many bullshit tropes they were pulling right now.

Unfortunately for Eric, the silent treatment didn’t end with just Stan and Kenny but seemed to extend to the rest of their classmates as well. While yesterday, it seemed like people were constantly coming up to him, asking about what happened, but this morning, he was met with pointed whispers in the hallway, people looking over at him before turning back to their friends. A silent judgment, one that made Eric’s back hunch as he tried to fall into himself a little more, trying not to be seen, perceived.

Not even Tolkien wanted to talk with him, not even sparing him a glance as Eric took his seat for first period. Maybe Tolkien had caught onto the lies from yesterday or had decided to swap alliances on his own accord. Whatever the case, it meant that for the first time since the swap had happened… Eric was alone.

This feeling was only solidified at the end of class, when once again Wendy Testaburger decided that she needed to make herself known. Class had ended and everyone was making their out of the classroom, when Wendy had grabbed Eric’s arm, pulling him back so that just the two of them could talk.

“I let it slide yesterday, because you seemed a little distraught, but now I need to know, what the fuck is going on?” She asked in a demanding tone, staring at Eric with an icy glare.

“Now you need to know?” Eric asked, and scoffed, “God, what the fuck is it gonna take for you to just leave it alone?! It’s none of your fucking business, Wendy!”

“It became my business when you announced it to everyone on the bus!” She shot back. “I thought that you of all people would know better than to say something, I thought you cared about him more than that.”

There was a small lightbulb that went off in Eric’s mind. So, Wendy must have had some idea that about Kyle’s true feelings for Stan. Of course, who didn’t know at this point, but it raised a few more questions for him.

“I… I care,” Eric stammered out, remembering no matter how frustrated he was, he still needed to act like Kyle, “But if Stan wants to act like a dumbass, that’s not my fault. Since you really want to know so goddamn much, why don’t you ask him and leave me the fuck alone?!” He pulled his arm from Wendy’s grasp and followed the flow of his classmates towards his next classroom.

God, she was a fucking bitch sometimes, he thought to himself as he made his way down the hallway. He really didn’t understand why the hell she cared so much. If she had some idea that those two idiots liked each other, why would she keep trying to work her way back into Stan’s life? Was she really that desperate to constantly be Stan’s rebound?

Whatever the case was, Eric didn’t care, and wished that Wendy would just wait until they all fucking swapped back so that Eric didn’t get dragged further and further into Stan and Kyle’s bullsh-

The stabbing pain in his stomach grounded Eric back to reality, snapping him from his thoughts as he froze in the hallway. His face scrunched up in discomfort as the feeling came and went. He blinked in confusion, taking a slow step forward. When the pain didn’t return, he kept on his way.

Weird, he thought, the hell was that for?

He couldn’t seem to shake the odd feeling, putting on his best poker face as the pain came back in waves all throughout his next class. He sat on the edge of his seat, pushing his stomach up against the edge of his desk in hopes that external pressure would help some. It offered a temporary refrain, but only for a moment.

Really fucking weird.

By the time end of second period, Eric still had no ideas as to what was going on, but knew he wasn’t going to get any answers just sitting around in class for the rest of the day. As the bell for passing period rung out, he was the first one out of the door, making a mad rush for the bathroom. Given the amount of time students had in-between classes, they were usually pretty empty, which Eric was banking on.

He slammed the bathroom door open, imminently relived to see no one at the urinals, and both stalls open. He dropped his backpack on the floor and entered the first stall. He groaned, wrapping his arms around his middle as another wave of pain washed through his body.

Was it some kind of witchcraft revenge that Kyle had planned out from the very beginning? Or maybe some odd side effect of the body swap that the others were also going through? He didn’t know which he would prefer.

Still panicking internally and not sure what other options he had at the moment, he shut the stall door, pulled down his pants and sat on the toilet, only about forty sure that maybe it was just some kind of stomach issue.

Eric’s stomach dropped at the sight of the blood in Kyle’s underwear. That… oh god, that definitely wasn’t normal. He was more than positive that internal bleeding was a super bad thing, but then how the fuck was he still walking around right now?? Sure the fucking cramping was a bitch and he honestly believed that getting stabbed would feel better in comparison, but how was he supposed to know he was bleeding out or some shit!?!?

In a fleeting moment of desperation, he pulled out his phone, fingers trembling as he searched for Kyle’s contact- well, Stan’s contact because body swap but oh my god that doesn’t fucking matter right now! He pressed the call button and hoped that Kyle wouldn’t be a stuck-up bitch and not answer the phone. The pause in-between each ring felt like an entirety, the anticipation of waiting was starting to drive him insane. When Kyle finally answered the call, it was like a weight lifted from his shoulders, until he remembered the purpose of the call.

“What do you want?” He asked, probably still pissed about Eric’s killer burn from earlier that morning, not that it mattered now that Kyle’s body was bleeding out.

“I don’t know what I did, but I think you’re dying,” he answered, voice shaking. There was a pause, making Eric fear that maybe the call had cut out or something, but when he heard the disappointed sigh on the other end, he realized Kyle was just being an asshole.

“I highly doubt that, dude,” Eric could almost picture him pinching the bridge of his nose, “What the hell are you going on about now?”

“Ay! I’m being one hundred percent serious you dick!” He scolded, “All I know is you’re bleeding out or something, and your insides are fucking- I don’t fucking know, it just hurts!”

“Bleeding out? What are you-“ Kyle stopped himself before groaning loudly in frustration, “Oh, you’ve got to be shitting me right now. Okay, Cartman, I know what’s going on, you’re not dying, just hang tight.”

Eric’s eyes widened in disbelief, “Why the hell are you being so casual about this?!”

“Trust me, it’ll be fine, it’s not that big of a deal, what bathroom-“

“Not that big of a deal!?” He exclaimed, “I’m sorry, does this kind of thing happen to you all the time!?!”

There was another pause from Kyle. “Cartman, we all took the same goddamn health class, please just think about it for like two more seconds.”

“Health class? Are you fucking-“ Eric’s voice got stuck in his throat as the memory dawned on him, and he suddenly remembered a part of sex ed that he had tuned out the first time around, “Oh shit.”

“Yeah, ‘oh shit’ is the right fucking reaction,” Kyle scoffed, “Where are you right now?”

“Uhh,” Eric sat up, feeling even weirder about looking down more than he previously did, “Bathroom outside of the science wing.”

“Okay, I need to grab some stuff from my locker, but I should be there in a bit. Just hang tight and don’t move.”

“But what about-“

“Just wait for me, alright?” Kyle interrupted, his patience he held with Eric previously in the conversation was long gone, “You can handle yourself for a few minutes.” Kyle hung up the phone, leaving Eric to sit in the bathroom stall with nothing but his thoughts, and the sound of the passing period bell ringing loud, alerting all to the start of the next class.

He felt like an idiot. In hindsight, there was no reason to think he was dying, no matter how bad the cramps were. It felt like some kind of karma, Kyle having his period when Eric was in his body. Maybe Kyle really had planned this all in advance, things were timing out too well for it to be a coincidence. 

It was maybe three minutes later when the bathroom door opened, and Eric felt his chest tighten. He held his breath as the figure started walking closer to the stall.

“Cartman?”

Kyle. “Oh thank god,” Eric sighed in relief, about to reach out to unlatch the stall when Kyle shoved a small pile under the door. He frowned but was unable to get a word out as Kyle quickly explained.

“Change out of the underwear and put it in the bag,” He instructed, “Can I trust you to put the pad on without fucking something up?”

Eric scowled at the insult, looking down at the small orange packet that he guessed Kyle was referring to. “Do I seriously have to do this?” he whined.

“Cartman, I do not have the patience to deal with your bullshit right now, just fucking do it.”

Eric could hear it in his voice, the exhaustion. It was no surprise, given what Kyle had gotten up to the previous night. Reluctantly, he kicked off his shoes and started changing out the blood stained underwear for the clean pair. The pad was a bit of a bitch, wanting to stick to itself rather than the underwear, but Eric managed after a bit of fenangling.

He exited the stall, grimacing at the stiffness he now had to deal with all day, put the ziplock bag in his nearby backpack, and shoved the wrapper of the pad in his pockets. Not that he thought anyone in their grade would go rifling through the trash, but he knew Kyle might get a bit neurotic about it.

Kyle was leaning against the side of the stall, rubbing his temples. He looked like hell, more so than he had that morning. There was a pang of guilt that rippled in Eric’s gut just looking at him, but he figured that was just him losing his mind. Hormones or whatever.

In no universe would he ever feel sorry for Kyle.

…Right?

“Here,” Kyle pulled a small ziplock bag from his pocket, “Painkillers. Almost forgot I had some stored in my locker until you called. Four should do it.”

“Four?!” Eric took the bag in shock. Kyle shot him a knowing look.

“Yes, four, trust me,” the subtext behind it was obvious. Take less and see what fucking happens, I’m doing you a favor.

He spotted the water bottle on the sink counter and used it to chase the pain killers. The silence was as awkward as Eric had anticipated it being. “Uh, thanks,” he said quietly after some time had passed. “You know, would have been nice to have a warning about this sooner. Feel like you forgot to tell me a lot of things.”

“How the fuck was I supposed to know this would happen now?!” Kyle snapped.

Eric raised an eyebrow, “Aren’t you supposed to track that shit? Pretty sure they make apps for that for that kind of thing.”

Kyle’s eye twitched. “Are you seriously gonna lecture me like that when you didn’t connect the pieces before calling me?”

“Well excuse me for being overly cautious!” Eric exclaimed, “That doesn’t answer my fucking question.”

Kyle looked down, avoiding Eric’s judgmental gaze, “I just… tracking it just feels kind of weird. I know the warning signs so, then I only have to think about it for a few days, and then everything is normal again and no one knows any better.”

“Oh,” Eric swallowed dryly, “That’s… that’s fair.” The silence returned, the both of them refusing to look at each other as Eric bit his lip, trying to do anything but think of the stabbing pain in his abdomen. “Okay, when the fuck is that shit supposed to kick in, cause this is fucking awful.”

“It’s that bad already?” Kyle asked, scowling, “When the hell did the cramps start?”

“I dunno…” Eric wrapped his arms his middle hoping the pressure would relieve some of the pain. It did not. “I guess first period, but I wasn’t really paying attention until it felt like I had been impaled.”

“First period-“ Kyle stopped himself from yelling in disbelief, putting his head in his hands and groaned, “Yeah, no, it’s gonna be a bitch for the rest of the day.”

“What?! You’re fucking with me, right?”

“I fucking wish,” Kyle dragged his hands down his face, “This is gonna be fun.”

“Oh, I bet this is fun for you, huh?” Eric rolled his eyes, “You get to watch me suffer as some sort of revenge for everything that’s happened this week? Low blow, dude.”

“Trust me, as much as I hate your guts right now, I wouldn’t- I don’t want you to have to deal with this any more than I would want to deal with it right now,” Kyle rambled, “Even if you kind of deserve it, it’s not a fair trade off.”

Eric’s brow furrowed. Was he being seriously taking the moral high ground on right now? “You’re not even the least bit happy?”

Kyle shook his head, “I wish I was, okay? Lucky for you, I know how bad this is and want to help you, so maybe take the fucking olive branch before I leave.”

“Okay, okay, fine,” Eric sighed, “What should I do?”

“Call my mom, tell her to take you home, chill for the rest of the day,” Kyle listed off, “You can take some more pain killers in the evening, I think there’s a container of extra strength in the bathroom.”

“Wait wait wait, hold the phone,” Eric held his hands out, “Your brilliant plan is for me to just leave?” he narrowed his eyes, “What’s your fucking end game with this?”

“Did you not fucking listen to me, I literally said I’m helping you!” Kyle exclaimed, “I don’t have a fucking end game, Cartman! I’m just giving you your best option!”

“Yeah right, cause you wouldn’t love to have me gone so I don’t get you in more trouble here. You’re not as slick as you think you are.”

Kyle groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose again. “I don’t even know why I even fucking bother sometimes,” he grumbled as he moved away from the stall wall and took Eric’s phone out of his pocket. When he handed it back to him, it was open on his mom’s contact page, “I’ve done this before, so it’s no big deal.”

“You have?” He asked, looking between the phone and Kyle with doubt.

“My timing’s not always perfect, alright,” Kyle admitted, “She might not be too happy with you, but she’ll still come and get you. Just tell her you didn’t realize, or that you forgot, and she won’t ask anything else.”

Eric’s finger lingered over the call button, but he couldn’t get over just how weird the whole thing was. “Do I have to be like… explicit about it?”

Kyle raised an eyebrow, “What do you mean?”

“Like, do I have to tell her what exactly is going on?”

“Well, yeah,” Kyle’s face fell flat, “She’s not gonna pick you up if you act all vague.”

“But do I have to like actually say it?”

“Cartman.”

“I mean, I feel like she would be able to fill in the pieces herself so that way I don’t have to actually say it out loud-“

“Cartman.” Kyle’s voice grew sterner as Eric continued to ramble.

“Because I think that would be best for everyone in the long run. More specially for me, because I don’t know about you, but saying it out loud it just the tiniest bit emasculating-“  

“Just call her, you piece of shit!” Kyle exclaimed loudly, causing Eric to jump in surprise, pressing the call button on accident.

“Oh, shit,” he cursed as the ringing on speaker echoed in the bathroom, “Shit, shit, shit-“

“You’ll be fine, just calm down,” Kyle reassured him, “You’ve been with her all week, and she hasn’t noticed anything right?” Eric nodded. “Then stop freaking out.”

“Yeah, but this is-“ Eric was interrupted as the dial tone stopped, and Sheila answered the phone.

“Kyle? What’s going on, bubbula? You never call during school,” She asked.

“Oh, uh, yeah, I know, it’s just,” Eric looked back at Kyle, who was motioning for him to get on with it. He shook his head as his body froze up. He wasn’t sure why it was so hard to say. He wasn’t embarrassed, Kyle was the only one there, and he had given him the prompts for this conversation. Maybe it was the just the thought of asking for help like this. He only really used his mom when it suited him, for whatever scheme he had cooked up. This was too genuine, too real, and it wasn’t him. It was the first time he would have to act as Kyle, with no ulterior motive, no lies about what he wanted.

He hated it.

“I need you to come pick me up,” he managed to get out. Kyle nodded in approval as they waited for Sheila’s response.

“Oh, is something wrong?” she continued her questioning. Eric shot one last look to Kyle, who gestured vaguely at Eric. Maybe not entirely helpful, but he got the gist.

“I, uh,” His mouth was dry, and he kept cringing as the next sentence laid at the tip of his tongue. He’d much rather get his teeth pulled than say what he was about to say, “I didn’t track stuff and… I kind of… got my period.” The last few words were almost inaudible, and Kyle hit Eric in the shoulder.

“Pull it together,” Kyle whispered harshly.

“Fuck off!” Eric spat back, hopefully not loud enough for Sheila to hear from the phone.

“You got…” It was clear from her tone that Kyle’s mom hadn’t quite caught the end of Eric’s sentence, but thankfully put the pieces together herself, “Oh bubbula why didn’t you call me sooner? I told you that you should keep better track of things, it’s for your own good.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Eric was just relieved that he didn’t have to say that shit again, “Can you just come get me?”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can. Just wait for me down in the nurse’s office, alright?”

“Will do,” He was about to hang up when Kyle slapped his hand away from the phone. Eric shot him a glare, which was met with another knowing look from Kyle. He rolled his eyes, and continued, “Love you.”

“Love you too, Kyle.”

Eric hung up the phone, placing it face down on the sink counter. “Never make me do shit like that again,” he groaned.

“I have a good feeling it will be the last time,” Kyle chuckled to himself, “Not half bad. Think that was your best performance all week.”

“Dick,” Eric grumbled, and took in a deep breath, “Thanks for the help, or whatever, hope the rest of your day isn’t shit,” He was about to leave the bathroom when Kyle grabbed his wrist.

“Wait. I’ll walk you,” he offered.

Eric scowled, “Why?”

“Because I got a hall pass,” Kyle answered blankly, holding up the laminated piece of paper hanging from the lanyard Eric hadn’t noticed till now. No wonder he wasn’t mad about missing class.

“You fucking nerd,” Eric yanked his hand away from Kyle, and stormed out of the bathroom. He didn't get very far before he came back, grabbed his backpack and left once again, now with Kyle in tow. The nurse’s office was on the other side of the school, so they had quite a ways to go, most of it they spent in silence.

There was still that nagging question in the back of Eric’s mind, one that he’d had since that morning. Given that he might not see Kyle again till tomorrow, he figured he might as well get the other side of the story.

“So, why did you do it?” He asked as they rounded the library. “You know… the whole getting shit-faced on a weekday thing?”

“How many synonyms for drunk do you know?” Kyle asked in annoyance.

“Think that was the last one, but I could bullshit some more if you keep dodging the question.”

Kyle sighed, like he had been expecting this turn in the conversation. “I really was gonna drop the whole thing after I texted him. I was ready to not get the full story until the morning and then Randy fucking Marsh had to come in a ruin everything.”

Eric wasn’t surprised by that. In Kyle’s unintelligible text, there were a lot of words that looked like they could be “Randy”, so he had figured it had been about him.

“Apparently my mom told all your guy’s parents about me being trans,” Kyle continued, the bluntness of the statement caused Eric to stop in his tracks, “Guess she thought… I honestly don’t know what the fuck she was thinking, but Randy knew, and decided last night was the perfect time to tell ‘Stan’. He kept saying all this shit I’ve heard before, that I’m gonna change my mind some day or some other bullshit, and I just fucking lost it.”

Kyle had stopped walking forward at some point, back turned towards Eric. While he couldn’t see his face, he could tell from his voice that Kyle was close to tears.

“I started panicking that he’d done that shit before and told Stan, or that even if he hadn’t told Stan that maybe Stan would agree~” his voice cracked, and Eric felt his heart squeeze. With a muscle memory that wasn’t entirely his own, Eric walked up and placed a hand on Kyle’s shoulder supportively. It was almost the same feeling that he had felt in the bathroom, that guilt when he realized how shit Kyle looked. And no wonder. The second he clocked that feeling, he quickly tore his hand away.

What the fuck was getting over him lately??

“I just… I don’t know what the fuck I’m supposed to tell him,” Kyle’s eyes were fixated on the floor.

“You could tell him the truth,” Eric offered.

Kyle snapped up at that, “What about our deal? All that stuff I owe you?”

Oh, right, that was still in the air, huh? Eric felt his cheeks heat up in embarrassment, “Hey, I never said I was gonna drop that stuff. There’s still Kenny, the rest of the school,” he rambled, looking away from Kyle, “I’ve got loads I can still hold over you.”

“Uh huh,” in his peripheral, he saw Kyle cross his arms, “You sound pretty sure of that.”

“Don’t get too cocky, Broflovski,” he spat back, trying to muster the same kind of fire he had the first day of the switch, but even Eric knew he wasn’t being too convincing, “I’m just trying to keep you on your toes.”

“Oh, for sure,” Kyle laughed, “Thanks, Cartman.”

“I’m being fucking serious! You don’t know what I have planned!” Eric continued to rave as they started their trek to the office back up again.

“You definitely sound super intimidating right now,” he could tell Kyle was still laughing at him, which only frustrated Eric further. Why the fuck had he even suggested that Kyle tell him the truth?? Had he forgotten everything he had worked for yesterday?!

First, he starts feeling bad for Kyle, and now he can’t threaten the guy no matter how hard he tried? Something was for sure broken in Eric’s brain. It was the only logical explanation.

As their conversation drew to a close, the pair turned a corner, and found themselves right in front of the nurse’s office. Eric wondered how many times Kyle had gone through this exact same situation. Kyle seemed more than prepared, which Eric hated to admit he was grateful for.

“Today will be the worst day,” Kyle had popped back into explainer mood once again, “Tomorrow might be kind of shit, but you’ll be fine after day three. Just please remember to change pads, cause it’s gonna be a real a bitch if you don’t.”

“Jesus, why is this shit so complicated?” Eric asked.

“Believe or not, you’re not the only one out to get me,” Kyle joked, “Mother nature decided to join in on the fun.”

“As should be your natural punishment, you ginger freak.”

Kyle laughed to himself, and rolled his eyes, “Whatever, dude. I’ll see you around.” He turned on his heels and started walking back down the hallway, when Eric found himself acting before he could think things through.

“Hey,” he called out, “What I said earlier, about telling Stan the truth,” Kyle turned around to face him, eyebrow raised in confusion, “I… I wasn’t kidding.”

Kyle smiled softly, “I know, dude,” he gave Eric a small wave goodbye, and then continued down the hallway. Maybe it was the way he walked away, or the solemness in his voice, but in that moment, Eric could only see Stan. Not some lame attempt from Kyle in the past.

It reminded him of the possibility he had learned about last night. That this body swap could become permanent. He closed his hand into a fist as he tried to slow the sickening feeling that made his way through his body.

Given all the bullshit he had been through this afternoon, he started to question his opinion on Stan and Kenny’s plan. Was he really willing to risk being stuck as Kyle forever?

He wasn’t allowed to much time to dwell, for as quickly as the thought came to his mind, the voice of Sheila Broflovski echoed in the hallway soon after.

“Kyle?” She rushed forward towards him as Eric turned his head to face her. She began lecturing him about taking care of himself and how she couldn’t keep doing this and a whole bunch of other bullshit that Eric just ignored, eyes drifting back to the hallway Kyle had just walked down.

He didn’t say a word to Sheila as she led him out of the school and to her car, him silently taking the passenger seat as they began the short drive back to the Broflovski house. She didn’t say much more either, making Eric wonder if she was mad at him, mad at “Kyle”, or if there was something else. Kyle had said he’d done this a few times. Maybe she was gonna him an ultimatum or something. He wasn’t sure what to expect.

As the car entered the neighborhood, Sheila finally spoke back up.

“Kyle, honey,” she started off, “I’m… I’m sorry.”

Eric furrowed his brow. “What?” he asked, half thinking that he had misheard.

Sheila sighed, “I can tell you’ve been having a tough week, sweetheart. I guess, a tough few weeks if I’m really thinking about it. And… it wasn’t until you called me earlier that I really thought about why.”

Eric still felt confused as to what she was talking about. Had she noticed something was up all week? What was she going on about? They pulled into the driveway, Sheila’s gaze still locked in front of her, almost like she was too scared to look Eric in the eye.

“There was always a part of me that thought that… that you would change your mind. I know that’s not-“ She stopped herself, “I didn’t want to doubt you. But it’s been hard, for me and your father. It’s not like we had anyone to talk to about this, not here. And as much as I worry about what everyone in this damn might think of you,” She finally turned to look at Eric, reaching a hand to cup his face, “I hate watching you just… shut yourself off from us.”

The pieces finally connected in Eric’s head, a little too late. He shouldn't be the one to get this conversation. This was wrong. He didn’t need to hear this. Kyle did. He didn’t know what the hell he was supposed to say because this wasn’t- these weren’t his issues. Maybe he should stop her from going any further. But it was like earlier, his brain just froze, and he didn’t know what he could- what he should say. So, he just sat there as Kyle’s mom started to cry.

“I’m sorry that I didn’t listen to you sooner, Kyle,” her voice was soft and calm, despite it’s shakiness from the crying, “I shouldn’t have let my own feelings get in the way of yours. And I know I’ll never know how bad it really is for you, but I-“ She let out another shaky breath, “I don’t want to be in your way anymore. Me and your father, we’ve… we’ve been talking and decided that we’re not going stand in your way anymore.” She paused, like that was all Eric needed to know what that implied.

He didn’t know. Just wanted to make that clear in case there was some cosmic tally of just how clueless he had been today that needed an updated count. But despite his cluelessness, he felt his own eyes begin to tear up. It wasn’t tears of sadness, he wasn’t that stupid, but rather happy tears. It was like that weird muscle memory, when he had gone to comfort Kyle back at school. Like Kyle had some sort of phantom control over his body, making unconscious decisions to keep Eric in check. There was a weird warm feeling in his chest. Eric couldn't place if he had ever felt something like it before or if he was just going crazy.

“We decided that now would be the best time,” Sheila smiled as she wiped a tear from Eric’s cheek, “We’re going to let you start testosterone.”

Chapter Text

Stan was unsure how things had gone from bad to worse in the span of one day, but what he did know for certain was that it couldn’t get any worse. Of course, he had thought the same thing earlier, and was proven very, very wrong, so what good was his opinion anyway?

The thing is, it wasn’t just Kyle. Oh no, that would be too fucking easy. Kenny had to go and make himself a mediator to “keep things calm”, and Cartman just seems to want to use the whole endeavor as fuel for pissing both of them off simultaneously! Cartman was to be expected, but Kenny? What the hell does he fucking gain from being neutral?!

They had gone back and forth for a while that night, after Stan finally caved and showed him the text messages, and Kenny had done his best trying to keep Stan somewhat level headed as they went to bed. But Stan was restless, brain on overdrive as he tried to rationalize what Kyle had done, but all rabbit holes just kept pointing back to the same conclusion: Kyle just hated him.

The lack of response that morning only seemed to further validate that conclusion and the complete lack of awareness on Kyle’s face as Stan had got onto the bus was the fucking nail in the coffin.

And worst of all, he had no idea what the hell he had done wrong... for the most part. Kenny was right in only one respect, he should have told Kyle sooner- correction, he should have told Kyle. But it was hard for Stan to think that would have changed much.

Kyle would most definitely have given him the cold shoulder for a while. That part was obvious, especially after his response the first time around. That had been hard enough at ten, dealing with moving out of his childhood home, one of many temporary splits between his parents, and before Stan even realized that he-

Whatever, his feelings toward Kyle don’t matter right now.

Expect that his feelings do matter and are the reason that he feels like such shit. That he couldn’t blame on Kenny.

Lunch couldn’t have come any slower, with Kyle staring down Stan’s neck during the entirety of science class. He had shown up late, hall pass in tow, and a bit more life in his eyes than he had that morning. The light quickly faded when he met Stan’s gaze, and presumably stayed that way. Stan didn’t spare a glance behind him to be sure. When the bell rang, Stan was the first out of his seat, pushing past the other students as he waited for Kyle to call out to him. But he didn’t.

He sat at their normal table during lunch, avoiding eye contact with Kenny as they ate their food in silence. It was just the two of them, which Stan was more than content with, but Kenny seemed way more concerned about the matter. They were about half-way through lunch when Kenny broke the awkward silence.

“Okay, where the fuck is he?” he asked, eyes darting around the lunchroom in concern.

“Kyle? I don’t fucking care,” Stan grumbled, which earned him a particularly annoyed glare from Kenny.

“Can you think about something other than that for two fucking seconds? I’m talking about Cartman,” Kenny gestured to the empty seat next to Stan, “Where is he?”

Stan frowned, as he realized just how odd it was that it was just the two of them at the table. Despite what had happened on the bus this morning, Stan didn’t think it warranted this kind of response from Cartman, just straight up ignoring them for the rest of the day. He was petty, but he’d rather annoy the shit out of them than let them sit in silence.

“He’s probably lingering around somewhere,” Stan rationalized, “Don’t think he’s hit his daily quota of snarky comments and meddling where he shouldn’t.”

Kenny rolled his eyes, and quickly checked his phone, “Maybe... haven’t got any messages about him leaving school. Not that he’d want to tell us right now.”

“Dude, why do you care so much?” Stan snapped, “It’s Cartman. After that shit he pulled this morning, I’m perfectly fine not dealing with him for a while.”

“Are you seriously gonna keep this up the rest of the day?” Kenny groaned, “You’re just gonna wallow in self-pity and not do anything about it?”

Stan scowled, “Why do I have to do anything about it? I feel like I have good reason to still be pissed off, but by all means, call me an asshole for reacting the way I am. Say that I am judging the whole ordeal unfairly, since you’ve made it clear you don’t want to pick a side.”

“I don’t want to pick sides, dude,” Kenny stated, “Not without...” He trailed off, and sighed heavily, “Look, I’m not saying you don’t have a right to be pissed off, but if would at least just talk to the guy-“

“And say what? ‘Hey Kyle, thank you so much for going behind my back and showing up to school wasted, you’re such a good friend’?” Stan fake smiled as he mimed the conversation, “I already know how that’s gonna fucking go.”

“Maybe there’s more to it than that, Kyle’s not completely unreasonable,” Kenny argued, “You’ve been friends for so long, do you really think he’d do something like that without a good reason? Like, do you seriously believe that?”

Stan wanted to say yes, the deep worry, that anxiety in the back of his mind was screaming for him to say yes. He had thought it through over and over again. But there was still that small part of him, the glimmer of hope he had beaten down with his rambling thoughts the night before, that told him no.

“I... I don’t know what to believe right now,” Stan’s eyes fell to the floor, and he wrapped his arms around himself.

“And that’s okay, dude,” Kenny’s voice softened as he noticed the shift in Stan’s mood, “But, it’s gonna stay that way unless you talk about it with him.”

Stan looked up, ready to counter that thought, but felt his voice leave his throat as he noticed who was walking over to the table.

Kyle.

He straightened up, eyes quickly darting away again. Kenny seemed confused, raising an eyebrow as he looked over his shoulder, and then promptly turned back around as soon as he connected the dots.

Kyle approached the table as Stan and Kenny desperately avoided looking at each other, as well as him.

“Hey guys,” he weakly greeted, making no attempts to sit with them. Stan briefly met Kenny’s eyes for some kind of support, but Kenny didn’t want to get in the middle of it again and shook his head subtlety. They continued their brief stare off until finally, Kenny seemed to be frustrated enough, and turned to Kyle.

“Hey man,” he said, just as awkwardly as Stan was sure he felt, still looking back and forth between the two. “You need something?”

“Actually,” Stan could sense Kyle turning his attention toward him, and he squeezed his eyes shut, “I was wondering... can I talk with you, Stan? Please?”

There was a pause before Stan opened his eyes again, and finally looked at Kyle. He still had that kicked puppy look he had during class, but he seemed a tad more defeated than before. Stan’s heart ached, the memories of how betrayed he felt last night rushing through him once again.

But Kenny was right, he can’t just ignore him forever.

“Yeah, we can talk, just-” He looked around the cafeteria, still full of their classmates and other students, “Not here.”

A smile of relief flashed on Kyle’s face, and he nodded in agreement, “Of course, that makes sense.”

Stan grabbed his things, and followed Kyle out of the lunchroom, sparing a quick glance towards Kenny, who nodded in approval as they turned down the hall, out of sight. They didn’t stop walking until they were in the music hallway. There were some band and orchestra kids lingering around, but Kyle seemed to have an idea, moving past them to an empty practice room. He held the door open for Stan, flipping on the light once he closed the door behind him.

“Why here?” Stan asked, curiously glancing around at the beaten up piano in the corner of the room and the foam padding barely clinging to the walls.

“Soundproof,” Kyle shrugged, “Figured you want some privacy.”

He wasn’t wrong about that, Stan thought as he finally looked Kyle over for the first time since this morning. He looked exhausted, and part of Stan wanted to feel bad for him. Part of him did feel bad. He had seen this look in the mirror so many goddamn times, he knew how it felt.

But he knew why Kyle looked like this. He knew what Kyle had done. 

Kyle sighed, “Look, I know you’re mad-“

“What the hell were you thinking?” Stan interrupted, his anger taking hold and forgetting whatever composure he knew he should have, “I mean, seriously? You knew this was something I’ve struggled with, what the hell made you think this was okay?!”

“I wasn’t thinking, alright!” Kyle snapped, scowling, “I just- I wasn’t trying to- If I can just explain- “

“Explain what? What the hell could have possibly happened, Kyle?!” Stan felt his throat start to tense up, “Was it really that bad, you couldn’t just, oh I don’t know, respond to my fucking texts?!”

“Like you’re one to talk!” Kyle spat back, “I wasn’t trying to jump to any conclusions without talking to you first, but then you ghost me for hours, and then I had to deal with Randy and I just- I hit my limit.”

“’You hit your limit’?” Stan repeated, “What the fuck did he even say? I know he’s bad, but what the fuck could he have told you?”

A panicked look flashed across Kyle’s face, some sort of brief lingering thought that he instantly shot down, “Why does it matter?”

Stan’s blood boiled, “Because I don’t need you thinking you know how to live my goddamn life! I deal with that bastard every single day, I know what he’s like! I’ve talked to you about every single one of his stupid ideas and outbursts, you know exactly what he’s capable of, so I’ll ask again, what the fuck could he have said to make you get that wasted?!”

There was that look again, “I...” Kyle’s body was tense, his closed fists shaking, “It was just some shit about me, okay? I don’t want- “

“Fuck what you want, after the shit you’ve pulled, you owe it to me to tell me,” Stan interrupted, the rage in his voice breaking, now more concerned. Randy wasn’t known for thinking before he spoke, it was his most notable quality, so the things he could have said about Kyle...

“It wasn’t... he was drunk, and high, and pissed at your mom,” Kyle explained, “He woke me up, trying to talk to me, to make up for... I don’t fucking know, but he just kept pushing and pushing and I was exhausted.” His eyes met Stan’s, welling up with tears. “I am exhausted, Stan. At first I thought that it was just the body swap, but the headaches, all those bad feelings went away when I started drinking. And I- I didn’t mean to get wasted, I just- I wanted to stop hurting.”

Stan knew that feeling all too well. “You could have told me if it was really that bad. You didn’t need to take this situation into your own hands, try to fix things like you always do.”

Kyle scowled, “I'm sorry, how was I supposed to know this was an issue that drinking would 'fix'? You never told me that was something to worry about, why the hell didn’t you say something sooner?”

Stan felt the blood drain from his face, “This isn’t about me-“

“I’m in your body right now, this has always been about you!” Kyle exclaimed, “You’re the one that’s pissed, but the bottle wasn’t even hidden that well. It was just lying in your fucking dresser drawer! Half empty! Why?!”

His mouth went dry. The why was longer and more complicated than he would care to admit. It hadn’t even been in the drawer until more recently, but explaining why it was moved, why he finally caved... He wasn’t too sure if now was the best time to bring that up.

“So, I have to explain myself, but you don’t. Is that how it is?” Kyle asked, as Stan just stood there. “Look, Stan, I didn’t- I wasn’t trying to find it or anything. Why can’t you just talk to me about this? You could have told me about this.”

“Like you would have cared,” Stan scoffed.

Kyle frowned, “Stan, I care about your wellbeing. Is that so hard to believe?”

“If you cared, you wouldn’t have done this,” he shot back bluntly. Kyle seemed hurt at the implication, but Stan wasn’t done, “I get it okay, my life fucking sucks and the only way to make it better is to drown your sorrows, don’t you think I’ve tried that? It doesn’t work! I’m sorry you’ve got to suck it up for a few days because I don’t have the typical white picket fence life anymore!”

“Your life sucks?” Kyle’s voice cracked, “Do you realize how selfish you sound right now?! You have this huge house, your parents care about you, even if they’re stupid about it sometimes, and you- I would kill to be c-“ He stopped himself, covering his mouth before he could finish.

Stan scowled, “Be what? What the fuck is so special about me?”

Kyle uncovered his mouth, eyes tearing up, but he didn’t respond. Whatever it was that he was going to say was either too much or... too real? Stan felt his blood boil once again.

“Oh, what? Another thing you can’t tell me?” He asked after a beat, “I didn’t realize you have so much you want to keep from me.”

Kyle squeezed his eyes shut, and shook his head, “It’s not that I don’t want... I don’t need to talk about every little thing about my life, okay Stan?”

“But why, dude?” He pleaded, as an unpleasant thought crossed his mind, “Is it cause you’ve already told Cartman?” Stan thought back to how secretive those two had been all week, their private chats. He was worried it might have been a tad off base, but as Kyle’s eyes opened, face falling in panic, Stan knew he had been right to be suspicious.

“What?” his voice was quiet, “I didn’t... what are you talking about?”

“You two have been acting weird since the body swap happened, doesn’t take a genius to figure out you’re hiding something,” Stan explained, trying to ignore the building guilt in his stomach, “You keep trying to do what he wants, so he’s clearly holding something over you or some shit. Right?” Kyle’s lack of a response was more telling than any affirmation, “Dude, you can just tell me. Please, I don’t like this. I don’t like seeing you upset. I don’t like not knowing what’s going on-“

“God, Stan, that isn’t about you!” Kyle screamed, the tears finally streaking down his face, “I have a life outside of you! I don’t need to tell you every passing thought because you need to be dependent on someone who has their shit together!”

Each word hit Stan like a pound of bricks. He had been right. Kyle does hate him. “Is...” Stan didn’t want to finish the question, “Is that why you think we’re friends?”

The pain and anger suddenly vanished from Kyle’s face as he realized just how far over the line he had crossed, “No, I didn’t mean it like-“

“You know, if I’m that much of a fucking burden to you, why the hell are we still friends?” Stan asked, holding back tears.

Kyle stared at him like he was insane, but once again, couldn’t seem to find the words. Stan thought he would be mad, mad that Kyle didn’t seem to trust him enough to tell him one thing. But he was just hurt. Shocked, even. Heartbroken.

“Thought so,” his voice was quiet. He held out hope that maybe, just maybe that might get some kind of response, but nothing. He bit his tongue and walked out of the practice room.

“Wait, Stan!” Kyle called out, finally able to speak to him again, but Stan didn’t stop, his pace getting faster. His eyes were blurry with tears, his body screaming at him to leave, get anywhere that isn’t here. The bell must have rung at some point, as Stan found himself pushing past crowds of students. He found the exit to the track field by accident, wandering outside until he was behind the bleachers. He collapsed, hugging his knees close to his chest, and sobbed.

Him and Kyle had fought before. Plenty of times. While things had gotten heated in the past, there was something about this time that just felt... worse, somehow.

Did Kyle really think all that? That Stan was so dependent on him?

Was he even wrong about that?

It stung, not just because it was coming from Kyle, but because he’d thought those exact things before. So, staring at his own face, yelling at him that he was a useless friend, it only made things cut deeper. Like Kyle had access to all his fears and anxieties.

Stan had always been worried about Kyle drifting away from him, finding a new best friend, or just abandoning him all together, so to be told straight to his face that not keeping his distance cost him a friendship that meant more to him than anything... it broke him.

He wished he could hate Kyle for what he said, but how could he? Kyle was right. He was right about everything, the jackass.

He buried his head further into his knees, sniffling as his breathing steadied out. So caught up in his own head, he didn’t notice the sound soft crunching of dirt approaching him.

“I’m not mad that you skipped gym for me, but I would have liked a little heads-up next time,” Stan jumped at the sound of the voice, looking at Kenny wide eyed.

“Sorry,” Stan apologized, “I didn’t mean to- “

“Dude, I just said I wasn’t mad, it’s chill,” Kenny sat down next to Stan, looking out at the parking lot across from the bleachers, “Gotta say, you picked a pretty cliché hiding spot. I guess, all things considered, you weren’t really thinking when you ran out here, huh?”

“I’m not really in the mood right now, Kenny,” Stan rested his head on his knees. 

Kenny sighed, “Fair enough, bet that fight took a lot out of you.”

Stan scowled at him, “How would you know?”

“You promise not to flip your shit?” Kenny raised an eyebrow. Stan nodded meekly. “I followed you guys in case something happened, so, when I saw you run out, I talked to Kyle, and he told me what you said, what he said,” he shook his head in thought, “Thankfully, some sixth grader saw where you ran off to. So, it looks like we’re both missing gym. I’m sure Cartman won’t mind an absence or two on his record.”

“Surprised Kyle told you anything, it seemed like he barely wanted to tell me,” Stan grumbled.

“Are you kidding? I didn’t get a word out before he started apologizing and gave me a run down,” Kenny scoffed, “And if Kyle’s to be believed, sounds like you weren’t being too open either,” Stan frowned, rolling his eyes as Kenny continued, “So, I guess my only follow up is, why couldn’t you tell him?”

Stan squeezed his legs tighter. “I couldn’t just... I don’t want to tell him like this.”

“Tell him what?” Kenny asked gently, but Stan just shook his head. He had been so close to saying it before, but now... his feelings felt tainted. Kenny sighed, “Whatever you tell me stays between us, alright? You might not be able to tell him but keeping it all pent up isn’t going to help you, I can promise you that.”

Stan met his eyes, and for the first time that week, he felt like he was truly able to look past Cartman’s face and see Kenny. The reassurance made his heart feel a little lighter.

He took in a deep breath, wiping the tears from his eyes, and started from the beginning, “You how I told you guys that I was the one who broke up with Wendy?”

Kenny frowned in confusion, “What, did you get Clyde to do for you or something?”

“No!” Stan shook his head, and pinched the bridge of his nose, “What am I? Nine?! I meant it more like… I lied to you guys. She broke up with me.”

“Okay,” Kenny nodded slowly, furrowing his brow in thought, “don’t see why you needed to lie, she’s done that like, what, five times now?”

“Can I please get more than a sentence into this without you going off on a tangent?” Stan blurted out. 

Kenny put his hands up in surrender. “Sorry, please continue,” he said meekly.

“The only reason I lied is cause I told Kyle that I was finally gonna be the one to call it quits, you know,” Stan continued, “He said he was proud of me for standing up for myself, and I didn’t want to let him down. And in all fairness, I did start the conversation, she just kind of... took it over. Like she’d already been thinking about it.” His chest tightened as he remembered their conversation, “I had a whole spiel planned about how we both wanted different things, and that I couldn’t live up to her expectations of me, but I didn’t get to say any of it.”

He still remembered it well, how he just sat on the edge of Wendy’s bed as she berated him with accusations he couldn’t understand. She had been the one to bring up Kyle. In fact, Kyle was really the only thing she brought up. It was weird, cause she had never seemed jealous of their friendship before, but perhaps she was just better at hiding that than Stan tended to be. 

“She kept blaming Kyle, and at first I thought that she was just… I don’t know, thinking the break up was his idea or something, but she meant it more in… my feelings for Kyle were the reason I wanted to break up,” Stan’s shoulders tensed as he relived those words, “I didn’t get it at first. Like, completely clueless about what she meant. I tried telling her that lots of guys have guy best friends and girlfriends, which only made things worse.”

He paused, the vision of Wendy’s face that day appeared in his mind.

“She said… that didn’t matter because… because I love Kyle more than I could ever love her.” Stan felt his eyes start to get misty again, but he didn’t care about crying in front of Kenny now. “I didn’t want to handle thinking about it, so I had a few drinks, thinking maybe afterwards it wouldn’t feel so real, but it only made me realize that she was right.” 

He hated that it had taken someone else saying it that way for him to realize it was the truth. He had sat in his room for hours, but the more he thought back, the more it all seemed to prove himself wrong. The number of times he put himself on the line for Kyle, how often he would defend him knowing full well that Kyle could handle it himself, just how much it hurt when he and Kyle would fight… the warmness he would feel in his chest whenever Kyle would smile at him. 

But some of those feelings had to be normal between friends. Best friends were supposed to care about each other like that. It was normal how much he paid attention to Kyle, how his freckles were slightly more visible in the summer, or how he had one curl that refused to get pushed up into his hat, or how his eyes lit up whenever he won a game, or how he would stick out his tongue when he was concentrating super hard onto something, or-

After a certain point, Stan’s feelings had crossed a very platonic line. 

He tried to dismiss it, but those thoughts kept him awake for days. 

Stan looked back at Kenny, a single tear running down his cheeks, “Kenny, I love him. Which sounds so fucking stupid, but I mean it, which is even worse because now he hates my guts, so I’ve screwed up another relationship in my life- “

“I don’t think he hates you, Stan,” Kenny interrupted, “He would have run out here after you if I didn’t tell him I would handle it. And trust me, it took quite a bit of convincing. Don’t think that would have happened if he hated you as much as you think he does.”

Stan knew he should believe Kenny, since his record lately was pretty spot on in that regard. And maybe it was because of their fight, but Stan couldn’t quite find it in himself to agree with him.

“You know,” Kenny sighed, “If you told him how you feel, it might help clear this up.”

Stan’s face instantly warmed up, cheeks red with embarrassment at the mere thought, “I’m not confessing to Kyle while in your body dude, that’s so fucking weird!”

“I’m not saying that it wouldn’t be! But I think being honest with him might help mend things between the two of you,” Kenny explained.

“You really think there’s any point in that now?” Stan asked, doubt creeping back in.

Kenny smiled, “You two may be stubborn assholes, but you always find a way to figure things out. That, and now is a pretty shitty time for the group to fall apart if we might be stuck like this forever.”

“Oh god, don’t remind me,” Stan swallowed hard.

Kenny shrugged, “At least then telling Kyle like this wouldn’t be that much of a problem.”

“Let’s not joke about this, I don’t want to send any ideas off into the universe.”

“Pussy,” Kenny taunted, and stood up, offering Stan a hand, “Now, can’t do any friendship mending while sitting out in the field, sulking, can we?”

Stan smiled, and took Kenny’s hand, “Thanks, Kenny.”

“Don’t mention it,” Kenny winked, and turned back to the school, “Okay, game plan: don’t try to apologize when we get on the bus, that’ll just make it weird for everyone else. Just ask if you can ride with him back to your place after school.”

“And if he says no?”

“He won’t, trust me,” Kenny looked back at him. His confidence was reassuring to Stan, and helped fight back anxious thoughts more than he was ever able to do alone. “God, I should have started charging you assholes for this, I would have made bank this week.”

“Good to know our friendship is so sacred,” Stan joked as the two of them walked back into the school.

“Hey, I’m just trying to act the part,” Kenny nudged his arm with his elbow.

Despite just how awful Stan had felt when he had run out of the school, walking back in with Kenny, he was filled with a new sense of purpose. With somewhat of a plan in place, an idea of what he needed to say to Kyle, things were starting to look up for the day.

That was, until about ten minutes after the final bell, with Stan and Kenny stood outside their bus waiting for the rest of the group.

“You sure you didn’t see him earlier?” Stan asked, scanning the small number of students left that had yet to board the bus.

“Yeah, I’ve seen him leave class and we walked together earlier this week, there’s no way he got here before us,” Kenny confirmed, checking his phone for the fifth time. “First Cartman mysteriously disappears, and now Kyle’s dipped from school without a word? What is the point of the group chat if nobody is going to use it for group updates!?”

“Last call!” The bus driver called out, and both Kenny and Stan rushed onto the bus before they were completely left behind at school. As they boarded, Stan kept an eye out for Kyle, but came up empty once again.

“You seriously think he went home early?” He asked Kenny as they took a seat together.

“Can’t say I’d blame him if he did,” Kenny frowned, looking once more at the seats behind them, but with no success.

“So what’s the plan now?” Stan felt his fears starting to trickle in, “I don’t love the idea of doing another Facetime apology, but I can’t just get off at my normal stop without the bus driver calling your parents.”

“Smart, it’s probably best to avoid that,” Kenny agreed, eyes still scanning the bus. After a second, there was a light that went off behind his eyes, “I mean, there’s nothing actually stopping you from getting off at your normal stop. She didn’t stop Kyle on Monday when he got off with the rest of us.”

Stan scowled, “Because it was the four of us. Might be a bit different if I try to walk off with Tolkien.”

“Oh come on, you think she’s paid enough to care this far into the year?” Kenny shot back, “This could be your moment, you storming past airport security before Kyles gets on the plane kind of thing.”

“My what?” Stan looked at Kenny like he had grown a second head, “Kenny, this isn’t a romcom.”

“With how much you two haven’t talked to each other it might as well be,” Kenny said flatly, “You’ve only got a few stops to make up your mind on it, unless you have any other ideas.”

Stan frowned. Unfortunately, he didn’t have anything. The idea of just biking up to his house sounded like hell, and he doubted Kenny’s parents would drive him up. That didn’t mean getting off at his normal stop came without any qualms. His mom might not let him in, Kyle could still just ignore him. It was his own fault that his choices were kind of shit, but that didn’t make deciding any easier.

“Fine,” Stan sighed, “I blame you if something goes wrong.” Kenny looked offended, but didn’t get a word in before Stan hopped a few seats up, now sitting across the aisle from Tolkien, his sudden movement catching his attention right away.

“Kenny?” he asked, looking at Stan in confusion. “You good dude?”

“Uh, yeah,” Stan said as he took his seat, “This is gonna sound weird, but could I get off at your stop?”

If Tolkien could look more confused, he managed to achieve it almost instantly, “Why?”

“It’s just Ky- I mean, Stan,” he quickly corrected himself, hoping that Tolkien wouldn’t catch the slip up, “I need to talk with him.”

“The hell is going on with you guys?” Tolkien shook his head lightly, “I mean, I guess, but I’m still a little confused. Is Stan, like, doing okay?”

You have no idea, Stan thought, “You can say it’s been a rough week.”

There was a pause as Tolkien seemed to process just how weird of a request it was. It was sometime in this pause that Stan clocked why Tolkien had been so confused at first: he had forgotten to put the hood back up. It was such a stupid thing thing to worry about forgetting, but Kenny was nothing if not consistent about it, even now. He was surprised that Kenny hadn’t mentioned it earlier, but he supposed that there was quite a lot going on, so it was the last thing on their minds.

“I trust you know what you’re doing,” Tolkien sighed, “I’ll help you out.”

Stan smiled in relief, “Thanks, dude. I owe you.”

The bus ride was a blur, and it wasn’t until Stan was off of the bus did anxiety begin to build in his stomach. Oh god, was he really gonna tell Kyle? Why did he think this was a good idea?! How the fuck did he let Kenny convince him this was a good idea!?

“Kenny?” Tolkien’s voice brought him back to reality. “Everything alright?”

“I’m good,” Stan nodded as ran his hands through his hair, trying to calm himself down.

“I know it’s not really my place,” Tolkien walked over to him, placing a hand on his shoulder, “But I just wanted to say, whatever is going on with you guys, I'm sure you'll get through it. I've seen you all get out of some crazy shit in the past. I'm sure this isn't that big of a deal."

"Thanks, Tolkien," Stan appreciated the offer, but wasn't sure how helpful it really was, given the situation, "And, on his behalf, I'm sorry about how Kyle was acting yesterday."

Tolkien laughed, "Thanks. That sure was... something."

"Uh huh," Stan agreed, "I don't know exactly why he was acting like that, but I can promise it won't happened again."

"Oh, I thought it was because..." Tolkien's voice trailed off as his eyes drifted over to Stan's house, "You know, I don't want to even go down that rabbit hole. Best of luck, dude." And with that, he left Stan at the edge of his driveway.

Looking up at his house for the first time since the body swap, Stan felt weird being there, not as himself. He walked down the driveway slowly, worried someone would yell at him that he shouldn’t be there, though he doubted his dad would even notice, or care for that matter. As he walked the steps of the front porch, the sound of his heart beating was deafening in his ears, his breathing dangerously close to hyperventilating. 

He closed his eyes, and exhaled shakily. He had to do this.

He knocked on the door.

His mom was the one who answered, smiling softly as she recognized the face at her doorstep.

“Oh, Kenny, how nice to see you,” She greeted, opening the door wider, “What are you doing up here?”

Stan’s throat dried up, his mind buzzing with a million different ways to answer, but he still needed to keep up appearances. “I, uh, need to talk with Stan,” he sounded so unsure of his words, which only made his mom look at him with more worry.

“Is he not answering his texts again?” She asked, looking behind her towards the stairwell, “I don’t know what gets into him sometimes. Come in, Kenny, no need to stand in the cold.”

Stan smiled at her, and walked into his house. It was a weird mix of relief and stress, being back here. Something deeply familiar that he had been needing all week, but dread of what he came here to do.

“Are you doing alright?” his mom asked, “You don’t normally come up here on your own.”

“I’m just… I’m worried about him,” Stan said, not wanting to lie to his mother. 

“That’s awful sweet of you,” She smiled, “Stan wasn’t really in a talking mood when I picked him up earlier, maybe you might be able to get through to him.”

“I hope so,” Stan steadied his breath once again, but as his mom started to walk away, heading back towards the kitchen, something came over him and he rushed up to her, hugging her tightly. 

“Oh!” She was slightly startled, taking a second before she started to hug him back, “What’s this about?”

“I-” Stan’s voice broke, a wave of emotions rushing over him, “I haven’t visited in a while.” He didn’t realize just how much he had missed something as simple as a hug from his mom over the past couple of days. Maybe part of that was that he didn’t hug his mom as much as he used to when he was younger, and now, with so much uncertainty, he knew just how it would feel, and that was all he needed in this moment. 

His mom laughed to herself, “Well, you know you are welcome here anytime,” She released him from the hug, “It’s nice to see you boys are still looking out for each other.”

Stan felt his heart sink as she walked away, but took in another breath. He had come so far, he couldn’t give up now. With shaky hands, he grabbed hold of the railing, and slowly made his way up the stairs.

The door to his room was shut, just as he expected. He did a quick glance down the hall, making sure that Shelly’s door was also in a similar state. He tried to remember if she would be hanging with friends after school, but upon seeing the door closed, he dismissed the idea.

He brought his hand up to the door, trying to dig back to that confidence he had after his talk with Kenny, but he was still scared shitless. Once he told Kyle… god, he was seriously going through with that? Would he hate him even more? 

He shook his head. No, he can’t think like that. No more stupid assumptions. That’s what got him in this position in the first place. Before he could doubt himself even more, he knocked on the door, loudly.

No response. Not even the smallest sound of movement.

“Hey, it’s me,” Stan said, speaking loudly enough that Kyle could hear him, “I know I’m kind of the last person you want to talk to right now, but I wanted to… I’m sorry, okay?” He waited, but still, nothing, “You were right. I should have told you sooner, and I shouldn’t have been such a dick about it. I was just pissed off and… scared, I guess. Still scared if I’m being honest. You kind of hit every insecurity of mine which, while impressive, was kind of a lot. And…” his voice trailed off, desperately hoping that Kyle would say something as he got misty eyed, “And if you still hate me, I would get it. I’d hate me too.”

The door to his room opened swiftly, his own tear stained face staring back at him. “I don’t hate you, Stan,” Kyle spoke quietly, “I could never hate you.”

They two stared at each other, both in various levels of disbelief. Stan felt a tear roll down his cheek, a small part of him relieved upon hearing those words from Kyle. “Are we good to talk?” He asked.

“Yeah, we should.”

Chapter Text

It wasn’t until he saw Stan running out of the practice room that Kyle realized just how much he had fucked up. 

Kyle couldn’t believe how stupid he had been. How painfully optimistic he was when he offered to talk with Stan. Maybe it was because of his conversation with Cartman, who more or less told him to go for it, or because of just how quickly Stan had agreed. He wasn’t sure how even the smallest part of him thought it was going to go over well. 

Despite the ample amount of time he had to plan just what he was going to say, every rational thought just vanished from his mind the second he was on the spot. He kept stumbling over his words, trying to phrase things in the best possible way, all while tip-toeing around the real actual thing that needed to be said.

God… and he almost said it. Almost admitted everything. But then his stupid, stupid brain had to get in the way and make everything ten times worse.

Kyle called out Stan’s name, but it was far too late, and he was out of the room and hallway before Kyle’s brain was able to kick into gear and run after him. He wildly turned the corner, eyes frantically searching the hallway for Kenny’s orange parka, but came up empty. But someone else was able to spot him. Kenny himself.

Without a word, Kenny pulled him from the center of the hallway, whipping Kyle’s body to face him. “Dude, what the fuck happened?” he asked, “Why the hell was he running-”

“It’s all my fault,” Kyle’s voice broke as the reality of everything finally collapsed onto him, “I-I should have just told him, but then he kept yelling and- and I just-”

“Woah, easy there, take a breather,” Kenny frantically looked around before dragging the two of them back into the more or less abandoned music hallway, “Start from the beginning.” Kyle looked at him warily, unconvinced that this would end any differently, to which Kenny sighed heavily, “I promise, no judgment on my end, I just wanna know.”

Kyle took a deep breath and explained how he found the bottle, Randy trying to talk with him, the stupid shit he said to Stan, leaving out nothing… except the obvious. To his relief, Kenny was true to his word and let Kyle explain without interrupting, looking more and more conflicted as Kyle continued. 

By the end, Kenny's frustration seemed to have shifted. “Feel like we should have seen this coming,” he grumbled, dragging a hand down his face, “Not that we could anticipate the shit Randy does. What was it that he said? Did he go off on some kind of homophobic rant or something?”

Kyle bit his lip. “Basically,” he fibbed, “Let’s just say it’s stuff I wouldn’t want to repeat in public, alright?” Kenny raised an eyebrow, unconvinced, but Kyle kept rambling, “Look, I know what I did was stupid, but I thought Stan would understand, or at least maybe empathize a little, but he just kept going off about it not being my place to do anything. So when I tried to ask him why the hell he even had that shit around, he got all defensive and wouldn’t answer.”

Kenny frowned, “That’s pretty in line with how he was acting last night.”

“I’m worried about him, Kenny,” Kyle wiped at his face again, “I snapped at him, and now he thinks I don’t want him as a friend or that I think he’s a burden or-” he stopped himself, meeting Kenny’s eyes, “What should I do?”

For once, Kenny seemed to be without answers, he looked down the hallway that Stan had run down just minutes ago. He spotted one poor soul who had been leaning against a wall facing the waves of students, “Hey, you!” He called out to the kid, who must have been in the grade below them, given his terrified look upon being spoken to, “You see a kid in an orange parka run by?”

The sixth grader nodded quickly, “Yeah, I think I saw him go out the door to the track field.”

Kyle’s heart began to race. He could take it all back, start everything over, clean slate. He started to make a beeline towards the door before Kenny pulled on the collar of his jacket, “Not so fast hot shot, let me talk with him first.”

He tried to pull himself away from Kenny’s grip to no avail, “But I need to-”

“If he didn’t talk to you before, I doubt he’s gonna talk with you now,” Kenny interrupted, “I’ll do my best to get to the bottom of whatever he isn’t talking about, just… give it some time. The both of you calm down.”

“I’m perfectly fucking calm!” Kyle snapped.

“Uh huh, definitely,” he let go of Kyle’s collar, “I know you want to clear the air, but trust me, doubling down won’t help.”

Kyle wanted to fight him on that, but deep down he knew Kenny was right. He wasn’t even sure if he could handle another conversation after all that. Right now, he just wanted to go home, lie down in bed and track down when his life became such a nightmare.

“You’re right, sorry,” Kyle said sheepishly, “Just don’t-”

“Nope, you’re doing it again, let me handle it,” Kenny interrupted, walking away from Kyle to head in the direction Stan supposedly ran off in. Kyle bit his tongue, deciding it was not in his best interest to curse Kenny out as he left.

The five minute bell rang throughout the school, and Kyle booked it over to the gym, not even given a chance to process everything before his next class. It didn’t help that he was the only one in the group that wasn't absent, Cartman having left early and Stan and Kenny ditching to just “talk”. No one approached him about it, which Kyle appreciated, though part of him did want someone to bring it up, for someone to ask him if he was alright. The only person who seemed to be worried about him was his gym teacher.

To be fair, Kyle was playing like shit. His exhaustion and distraction meant he was barely paying attention to the ball, and got nailed in head more times than he would care to count. After a particularly nasty fall on the court the one time he tried to go for the ball, the gym teacher pulled him aside and sent him to the nurse. 

Kyle was really starting to fucking hate volleyball.

The nurse seemed rather unimpressed with the note Kyle had been sent with by his gym teacher, but let him lay down in the office for quite a while. He heard her on the phone after he finally settled down, calling Stan’s mom. Great, another mark on Stan's record for today, he thought as he stared up at the sterile white ceiling tiles, like he hadn’t done enough that morning. Kyle wouldn’t be surprised if he got Stan grounded at this point.

He wasn’t sure how long he waited in the nurse’s office, he knew the bell rang for passing period, and the start of next class, but he wasn’t planning on checking the time on his phone, not quite wanting to see if he’d gotten any messages from Stan or Kenny. 

Or Cartman for that matter. While Kyle was curious as to how he was holding up, he wasn’t sure how much of that he wanted Cartman writing out in Kyle and Stan’s text chain.

“Stanley?” 

Kyle sat up and looked towards the doorway, where Stan’s mom was standing. She didn’t look as worried as she had that morning, but Kyle struggled to place the emotion on her face. Maybe disappointment? Relief?

“Sorry it took me so long to get down here,” she apologized, walking into the office and sitting down next to him, “Are you doing alright?”

Just a simple question caused Kyle’s eyes to tear up, and he quickly shook his head. Sharon sighed knowingly, and brought Kyle into a hug, which he quickly reciprocated. He regretted snapping at her that morning, ignoring her and the rest of Stan’s family all week. She didn't deserve any of that because Kyle didn't know how to handle Stan's family life.

“Let’s go home,” Sharon released him from the hug, wiping tears away from his eyes, “Get some rest. How does that sound?”

“I’d like that,” Kyle’s voice was shaky, but he smiled as they stood up. Sharon checked Kyle out of school for the rest of the day and walked with him back to the Marsh family car. He sat in shot-gun, leaning his head against the window as the car started. Unfortunately his peace didn’t last for too long.

“So, what happened?” Sharon asked as her car pulled out of the school parking lot.

Kyle’s blood pressure raised, and he wrapped his arms around his chest, still looking out the car window. “Why does everyone keep asking that?” he grumbled under his breath.

Stan’s mom sighed, “Look, honey, you don’t have to talk to me about it if you don’t want to, but… your dad was talking with me and-” She stopped herself, and Kyle felt his breath catch in his throat. He made a silent plea that Randy hadn’t gone into detail. “Well, he wasn’t being very specific, but whatever it is that he said to you, I gather that it upset you quite a bit.”

Kyle felt his shoulders relax ever so slightly. In hindsight, Randy’s vagueness made sense, given Sharon would have ripped him a new one for telling “Stan” things she specifically told him not to tell their son. 

As the car came to a stop at a traffic light, Sharon looked back over at Kyle, “Stanley, regardless of what he said, he does love and care about you. He just… doesn’t express it in the best way most of the time.”

“I know,” Kyle muttered, slouching further into the passenger seat, “I know.”

Sharon sighed, and turned back to the road. “Well, he does want to clear up some things with you, and-”

“Do you think it can wait?” Kyle interrupted, “Like… a few days?” Maybe he was being too optimistic. He would be lucky if this was over in a few days, but even if he was still in Stan’s body by then, he could at least plan out what he would tell him. Something more articulate than yelling at him to get out of his room.

“Of course it can, sweetheart. I’ll let him know you need some more time,” Sharon sounded more reluctant than Kyle would have liked, but he really couldn’t fault her for being all that confused. He knew he was currently doing a piss poor job of acting like Stan.

They went the rest of the car ride in silence, which felt longer to Kyle than any bus ride ever did. But it did give him ample time to think over… everything.

He kept thinking of what he was supposed to tell Stan, how he was going to make it up to him. Maybe he needed to actually tell him everything, word for word, verbatim what his dad said, come clean about literally everything. But who was he kidding? If he could barely tell Cartman how the fuck was he going to be able to tell Stan? Especially now? 

It also would complicate things a lot further. Even if Stan took the news alright, would he be mad at him for not saying something sooner? 

He hated just how much was still up in the air. How much he couldn’t control.

It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Stan, or how he’d react, but rather, he had no idea how Stan would react, which was just as terrifying, if not more so. That was why he didn’t say anything years ago, back when opportunities kept presenting themselves to Kyle, and why he didn’t say anything once middle school came around. And if he was being honest with himself, it was why he never planned to tell any of his friends unless something dire came up.

While a tad drastic and overly dramatic, there was a small part of him that thought he could pull it off. Powered by pure spite and anxiety, the lengths he had already gone through had worked for him up until this point. But his friend group swapping bodies wasn’t exactly on the agenda.

By the time the car finally pulled into the driveway, Stan’s mom didn’t fight him as he hopped out of the car and headed up to Stan’s room. He threw his jacket and hat into a corner, kicking off his shoes in random directions before lying down on the bed, sinking his face into the pillows as he let the day wash over him.

His body (well not his body but- oh dear god, reiterating this point is ridiculous) was exhausted. But now that he was behind a closed door, now that he didn’t have the eyes of strangers on him, he found himself crying once again. 

His sobs were quiet, not because he wasn’t trying to be heard, but rather that it was all he could give. He had already exhausted so many tears over the past two days, over the things he couldn’t say, what he did say…

He hated this. He hated Cartman for holding his identity over him like blackmail, he hated Randy fucking Marsh for being such an asshat, he hated this stupid, stupid, bodyswap, and he hated himself-

The knock on the door snapped him back to reality, and he shifted on the bed so he could sit up. He was expecting Sharon or Randy, but the voice he heard instead threw him for a loop.

“Hey, it’s me.” Stan. Kyle’s stomach dropped. “I know I’m kind of the last person you want to talk to right now, but I wanted to… I’m sorry, okay?” 

Kyle’s brow furrowed. What the hell was he talking about? He slid off the bed and walked over to the door.

“You were right. I should have told you sooner, and I shouldn’t have been such a dick about it.” Kyle exhaled lightly, that sure was putting it kindly. “I was just pissed off and… scared, I guess. Still scared if I’m being honest.”

Kyle was even more lost. Just what the hell was Stan so scared of? Kyle? Why?

“You kind of hit every insecurity of mine which, while impressive, was kind of a lot. And…” hearing Stan’s voice get caught in his throat, Kyle felt his stomach twist in guilt. Why he had said that shit about Stan… not even his frustration towards the whole ordeal was excuse enough. Nothing was. It had been cruel, too cruel of him. Especially since if he was claiming Stan was anyway dependent on Kyle, how was Kyle’s relationship to Stan any different? Cartman was right about very few things, but he had been right about Kyle being a hypocrite.

“And if you still hate me, I would get it. I’d hate me too.” And just like that, it all clicked together, and Kyle opened the door. Stan instantly met his gaze, his own eyes watery from tears.

“I don’t hate you, Stan,” Kyle’s voice trembled, “I could never hate you.”

It made sense now, why Stan had gotten so defensive, why he ran out when he did. He seriously thought that Kyle… He couldn’t believe he had let it get that far.

Kyle didn’t know what to say, which was really starting to be a problem today, but thankfully, Stan spoke up. “Are we good to talk?” He asked.

Kyle nodded meekly. “Yeah, we should.” He opened the door to allow him to come in, closing it behind him before he walked over to the bed. They sat down next to each other, in an unbearable silence. Kyle knew he should say something first. But, god, where to fucking start? Sorry for not defending their friendship more? Sorry that he didn’t trust Stan’s judgment? Sorry for keeping a part of his life so secret the idea of telling Stan made him want to jump out the window?

“Kenny was pissed that you left school without saying anything,” Stan broke the silence, laughing to himself, “He kept yelling about the group chat being pointless, it was kind of ridiculous.”

Kyle cracked a brief smile. “Wasn’t really thinking of that when I got picked up. I hope he can find it in him to forgive me for such a transgression,” he said sarcastically, and Stan laughed a bit harder, which sent a warming feeling through Kyle’s chest.

“I don’t know, he was pretty mad,” Stan shook his head slightly, “Think he might just charge us for group therapy at this point.”

“Oh my god, did he seriously say something like that?” Kyle asked, finding himself laughing along with Stan.

“Yeah, I don’t know how much of a joke it was,” Stan looked over at Kyle, “I think he might have been serious.”

Kyle nodded, picturing just exactly how that conversation might have gone down. “Where do you think he stands on unsolicited advice? Cause I’m not paying for the shit he was telling me yesterday.”

Stan frowned in thought, like he was seriously taking it into account, “I think we could get a discount for that.”

“Do we not get one as long time customers?” Kyle asked in faux offense.

“Something tells me he would charge extra because of that,” Stan joked and Kyle laughed again.

“Fair point,” he managed to say as he calmed down. The awkward silence returned, and Kyle’s palms began to sweat. He watched Stan fiddle with his fingers, and dared to look up at his face. He looked as defeated as Kyle felt, which made him feel a little bit better, if only because the two of them were back on the same page. When Stan looked up, meeting Kyle’s eyes, he darted his gaze to the other side of the room, ignoring the warmness that came to his face.

“So… You don’t hate me?” Stan asked.

“Of course I don’t,” Kyle couldn’t help the smile that broke out on his face as he turned his head back to Stan, eyebrows upturned. His heart ached as he remembered just how cruel he had been, all the things he said. He felt his throat go dry, and his smile faded. “I… shouldn’t have said that shit. I took it too far, and I’m sorry.” He shook his head as he started to laugh to himself, “Honestly, I’m no better, I just as dependent-”

“Bullshit. You are not,” Stan cut him off, grabbing ahold of Kyle’s hand, “You are so fucking impressive, Kyle. You’re super smart, and talented, and I’m fucking lucky that you give me the time of day.”

Kyle didn’t deserve this. As much as it warmed his heart, as much as he was sure Stan meant it, he didn’t deserve it. He looked down at Stan’s hand, still on top of his, and his face flushed. This was… all too much for him right now.

“You don’t have to say that shit,” he mumbled, but that only seemed to spur on Stan more.

“But I mean it! Seriously!” Stan exclaimed, meeting Kyle’s eyes with so much earnesty and genuine appreciation. Kyle must have looked down once again, because Stan quickly retracted his hand, and cleared his throat. “And… I’m sorry, too. I should have been more transparent with you about the whole drinking thing, I just… I didn’t think it would come up, you know?”

“I still shouldn’t have pushed you,” Kyle pointed out, rubbing his arm as he furrowed his brow, “I didn’t- I don’t need to know, that’s your business, not mine.”

“Well, yeah, but, I mean,” Stan stumbled over his words, “I… I think you should know.” 

Kyle’s eyes widened, “Stan, really, you don’t have to-”

“But I want to,” He cut Kyle off, “No bullshit this time.” He took in a deep breath before continuing, “Without getting into the nitty gritty… I lied to you about the breakup. Wendy was the one who called it off, not me.”

Kyle waited with baited breath, thinking Stan would continue about some blown out fight he and Wendy had, or something his parents might have said, but Stan just… stopped talking. Was… was that really it? Not that he was disappointed in knowing the truth, but if he was being honest, he was kind of expecting more. “Oh,” his voice fell flat, and quickly tried to regain his composure, “Why… Why did you lie about that?”

Stan looked down at the ground, and Kyle briefly thought maybe there was a better reason why Stan had cut it off there. Maybe he shouldn’t have pushed for more. Before he could apologize, Stan kept going, in a voice much quieter than before, “Because I wanted you to be proud of me.” Kyle’s heart squeezed in his chest. “You kept talking me up and I thought that you would think less of me if I just let her call the shots like she always does.”

If Kyle didn’t feel like an asshole before, he sure as hell felt like one now. He remembered the conversation that Stan was talking about, the weird place he was in because of it. Sure, he knew it would be better for Stan if he and Wendy had split, but there was always a small part of him that knew he was the slightest bit biased about what he wanted the outcome to be. He didn’t realize just how seriously Stan had taken his opinion in that moment, how much it really meant to him.

“I would never think less of you because of that,” Kyle placed a hand on Stan’s shoulder, smiling at him as Stan looked up. He could see the relief wash over Stan’s face as he smiled back at Kyle. To help his own levity in the situation, he joked, “Your choice in hair care, however-”

“Are you seriously still stuck on that, dude?” Stan pushed Kyle’s hand off his shoulder laughing and shaking his head.

“You are slowly killing your hair Stan, I’m not gonna stand for that,” Kyle crossed his arms in a joking manner.

“It’s my hair!” he exclaimed, “Would you rather I just bleach it? Go blond?”

“That would only make it worse!” Kyle argued, his brain already supplying images of Stan trying to bleach his own hair, with patchy yellow-blond streaks, “Are you just proposing things to rile me up?!”

Stan shrugged, then stroked his chin in thought, “Remind me, perms are definitely good for hair health, yeah?”

“You asshole!” Kyle playfully shoved Stan, the two of them laughing once again. As they both settled, there was another lull in the conversation, and Kyle knew what the next matter at hand was. Now that Stan had come clean, he was up to bat. 

“So,” Stan’s voice broke the tension, snapping Kyle’s eyes back to him, “I know I was right about that Cartman thing but…” his voice trailed, and Kyle’s stomach tightened as he knew where this was going, “Any chance you want to tell me what exactly is going on?”

Kyle felt like his heart was stuck in his throat. This was it, the natural segue into telling Stan, the kind of thing he had been waiting for. So why did he still feel like it wasn’t the right time? Why was every part of him screaming not to tell him? 

“Would you hate me if I said no?” Kyle asked.

“Of course not!” Stan exclaimed, “Why would you-” he stopped himself, looking down at the floor, “That’s… that’s fair I guess. I shouldn’t have brought up that shit with Cartman-”

“It’s alright Stan, really.”

“-but I’m just worried about you, you know? Worried about what he’s gonna make you do. I remember the last time he was holding stuff over you-”

“God don’t remind me,” Kyle murmured as vivid memories flashed through his head.

“-and I’m just trying to make sure that’s not the track you’re going down now,” the genuine concern in Stan’s voice did make Kyle feel better. 

“I can promise, it’s not,” and for once, Kyle felt like he wasn’t telling a half-truth. While his and Cartman’s deal was still a weight on his shoulders, he’d only cashed in one favor so far, and no indication of what he wanted for the other. If his plans were more malicious, Kyle would have been able to tell by now, but so far, all he had wanted was Stan's diary. “Weirdly enough, I think this whole swap has weakened his creativity. Not nearly as tortuous as I was expecting.”

Stan’s face dropped in horror, “That worries me more.”

Kyle nodded, “I’m choosing to ignore that worry and live in the now.”

“You’re stronger than I am,” Stan shook his head lightly, “You put up with it so much better than I ever could.”

Kyle laughed, “I threaten to fight him on the daily. And besides,” he punched Stan’s shoulder lightly, “You’re a lot stronger than you think.”

Stan pushed Kyle’s hand away, smiling sheepishly, “Whatever, dude.”

Kyle wished that Stan could see him the way that Kyle did. He was always so convinced that he was a screw-up, or a burden, which couldn’t be any further from the truth. Stan was like the glue that kept the group together. Stan was an everyman to some extent, but Kyle didn’t see that as a bad thing. It meant that he was always there whenever he needed him. He was nerdy, and sweet, and the only person Kyle could really rely on. Even when they disagreed, or fought, Stan would always be there.

“Hey,” the softness in Stan’s voice caught Kyle off guard, “You know I love you, right?” he asked, looking over at him with such hope in his eyes that for a split second, Kyle could live in the idea that Stan- his best friend- was in love with him. His smile faltered, and it took everything in his power to shut that down as quickly as it had started.

It was a nice idea, but who was he kidding? There was a more likely chance this body swap would undo itself than there was a chance Stan actually liked him in that way.

“Yeah, of course, dude,” Kyle quickly regained his composure, and offered a fist bump, “Super best friends?”

Stan chuckled, “Yeah, super best friends.” He watched as Stan’s face shifted, like he was deep in thought. Before he could ask if there was something wrong, Stan reached forward, bypassing the first bump and hugging Kyle, nearly knocking the wind out of him.

Kyle only hesitated for a moment before his arms wrapped around Stan’s waist, embracing the hug, cautious at first, like Stan might vanish if he got any closer. But as he hugged Stan tighter, he couldn’t help the heavy feeling that crossed his heart. 

Something about it felt wrong. Off. Yeah, off was the better word. It was different because… well, because they weren’t them.

As comfortable as Stan and Kyle normally felt around each other, the uneasy nature the two of them had while not in their own body was only amplified. And while Kyle wanted nothing more than this moment to be just like any other time Stan and him would make up, it just felt… off.

He wondered if Stan felt the same. It was perhaps the most selfish time Kyle had wished to be back in his own body, for all of them to switch back. Just for this small, honestly unimportant moment.

They didn’t let go until they heard Stan’s mom call them from downstairs. Their eyes met once more as the sounds of her climbing the stairs got closer, quickly pushing each other away right as the door opened.

“Kenny, sweetie, just got a call from your mom,” Sharon said as she walked into the doorway, leaning against the threshold, “She didn’t seem too happy that you came up here on your own. I’m gonna have to drive you back to your house.”

“Can I come with?” Kyle asked.

Sharon blinked in surprise, “Well, I… Sure, Stanley. It’s starting to get late, so both of you need to get in the car right away, I don’t want either one of you dragging your feet getting out of here, you understand?”

“Yes mom,” both Kyle and Stan answered in unison. Kyle felt his face start to fall as he and Stan made brief eye contact over the slip up. Either she didn’t hear Stan, or chose not to think about why “Kenny” was calling her mom, and left the room.

“Nice going,” Kyle lightly shoved Stan’s shoulder as he stood up, gathering his shoes and jacket.

“Sorry, I wasn't thinking about it,” Stan quickly apologized, picking up his beanie from the floor and handing it to Kyle, “It’s been a long week.”

“Week isn’t even over yet,” Kyle joked as he took the hat from Stan.

“Don’t remind me.”

The two of them sat in the back seat of the Marsh family car as they drove into town towards Kenny’s house. They kept a quiet conversation, talking about some of the things they had missed out on the past few days, when they hadn’t been talking. It was nice. Normal. Well, almost normal. Once Stan got dropped off did the weirdness of it all settle in Kyle’s stomach.

The rest of that evening was a blur. An awkwardly quiet drive back to the Marsh house, an even more awkward dinner that night. Thankfully, Randy was a no show, which Kyle was grateful for. He helped Stan’s mom with the dishes, ignored the odd stares from Shelly, and then was back in Stan’s room.

Kyle collapsed on the bed, exhaling heavily as he shut his eyes, ready to call it a day when his phone buzzed with a text notification. He let out a disgruntled sigh. Could he not have one fucking night of peace in this goddamn house? He picked up the phone, fully prepared for some more bullshit, which he did indeed receive as he saw a text from Cartman. He was more than normalized to see his own contact name at this point in time, but Cartman wasn’t one to send texts, which made him concerned and slightly intrigued. He had been ‘phone call only’ for the past few days, probably so things couldn’t be traced back to him. While annoying, Kyle at least understood why.

It wasn’t only the notification that made Kyle pause, however, but also the message he had sent.

Deal’s off. You don’t owe me shit anymore. I’m not gonna tell anyone.

Either the exhaustion had already gotten to Kyle, or Cartman was going stir crazy inside the Broflovski household. Scowling, he opened the phone to respond.

Cartman couldn’t be serious, right? Why the hell would he call it off now? What the fuck did he have to gain? What was he planning?

Kyle started typing up a message, about to ask several questions, when the typing bubble of an incoming message appeared. He paused, hoping maybe there was more to the text that Cartman had left out, but the ellipses disappeared as quickly as they appeared, followed by Cartman deleting his previous message.

Staring at his and Stan’s previous text chain, Kyle was frozen. Full blue-screen in his mind. What the fuck had just happened? His brain managed to type out some kind of response to the weird event.

Are you trying to gaslight me right now? Were you being serious?

His message stayed on delivered for a while, and Kyle was about to give up entirely, when Cartman started typing once again.

We can talk tomorrow, just fucking drop it

Kyle frowned, furiously typing a response.

You messaged me first, asshole

A full minute passed before Cartman sent a new text.

Smartass

Exasperated, Kyle shook his head, plugging the phone back into the charger and lying down on the bed once again. Whatever the hell Cartman was going on about, he would find out eventually.

At least, he hoped he would.

Chapter Text

It had been a joke yesterday, Kenny being pissed at the lack of group communication. But as he stood on the front step of the Cartman house, staring at his phone waiting for a text notification from literally anyone at this point, he started to question how much of a joke it had been.

First, there was Cartman, who had seemingly fallen off the face of the Earth after arriving at school yesterday. Second, Kyle, who dipped sometime after their conversation in the hallway, and was still not telling the whole truth about what happened Wednesday night (at least that's how it seemed in Kenny’s eyes). Last but not least Stan, who didn’t want to tell Kyle his true feelings because “it would be weird in Kenny’s body”, and- once again- HASN’T TEXTED KENNY SINCE HE SAW HIM ON THE BUS.

It’s not that Kenny wasn’t used to being ignored. He would have lost it long ago if that was the case. No, it was more that this was the one time in their lives where communication mattered the most. The one time that they all needed to be on the same page. It wasn’t about being included, or some sappy shit like that. 

Or maybe that was part of his frustration. Because this always seems to happen regardless of the situation. Kyle and Stan had their own thing going on, Cartman was off in his own world with half baked schemes, and Kenny was just… there.

Typical.

He wasn’t sure why he expected this to be any different.

“Were you waiting for me?”

Kenny looked up from his phone, seeing Stan standing in front of him, backpack slung over his shoulder like it was just a normal day. He frowned as he walked down the steps.

“Waiting for something, wasn’t necessarily you,” he grumbled, adjusting the straps of his backpack, “How’d it go with Kyle?”

“Pretty alright,” Stan answered, keeping pace with Kenny, seemingly oblivious to his mood, “We cleared things up and I… I took your advice, I tried to tell him.”

Kenny stopped in his tracks, thrown for a bit of a loop. “Really?” He honestly didn’t think Stan would even attempt to, he thought the guy was too stubborn to even consider it.

“Well, key word: tried,” Stan sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose, “He thought I meant it in like, a friend way.”

“How could he take a confession in a friend way?” Kenny asked, even more confused.

There was a pause, and Stan slowly looked away from Kenny, “Maybe cause all I said was that I loved him?”

“You dumb bitch,” Kenny scowled.

“I know! I know, alright,” Stan dragged a hand down his face as the two of them continued down the sidewalk, “I should have been more direct, but I panicked and thought that I would be able to clarify, but then he hit me with us being ‘super-best-friends’ so I kinda bailed.”

Kenny shook his head, both entertained with the absolute failure of a confession and frustrated with the continuation of their miscommunication. “Only you would somehow fuck this up,” he laughed to himself, “It’s almost impressive if it wasn’t so sad.”

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” Stan rolled his eyes, “Do I need to remind you that the only way you were able to ask out Butters was by being in Cartman’s body?”

“Ay! That’s fucking different!” Kenny snapped on instinct. As Stan’s eyes widened, Kenny took a second to process his words, his stomach sinking with an unfortunate realization.

“Dude,” Stan spoke with caution,  “That sounded an awful lot like-”

“Yeah, I know,” Kenny’s voice barely came out of his throat, his sudden nerves causing him to walk even faster forward. This was bad. Very bad. It was one thing to keep up his Cartman impression in front of strangers, but for it to slip in when talking with Stan, especially when he wasn’t even trying…

“Was that not on purpose?” Stan asked, trying his best to match Kenny’s new pace.

“No, it fucking wasn’t, so let’s just move past it ‘cause we don’t have any real way to fix it right now.”

“But-”

“Like I said, moving right past it, dude,” Kenny interrupted, staring straight ahead as they got closer and closer to the bus stop. He understood why Stan was so concerned, he was just as fucking concerned, but what would that solve? Freaking out over something as small as just a minor vocal inflection was only going to waste time. Besides, they had slightly bigger fish to fry, namely that fact that Cartman was most likely still not on-board with their plan to tell the staff about the swap. Had yesterday not been so… chaotic , they might have had a chance to make a case. But now, if things keep escalating the way they have been, Cartman not agreeing to the plan may be the least of their problems.

For this reason and this reason alone, when Kenny spotted Cartman sulking at the bus stop, he was absolutely elated. He was there, alive and -presumably- well. Things could finally get back on track. 

This feeling was only temporary, as his anger quickly took hold before he could even speak. 

“Where the fuck were you yesterday?!” Kenny exclaimed as he trudged through the snow, Stan right behind him, “Ignoring us is one thing, but you just up and vanished!”

“Who are you, my mom? Get off my back,” Cartman grumbled, shoving his hands further in his pockets as he got closer. 

Kenny faltered slightly at the lack of bite in his voice. He was expecting some kind of yelling match, but there was a certain somberness in Cartman’s tone that made him hesitate continuing the way he had.

“Well, a message would have been nice,” Kenny crossed his arms, preparing for the inevitable argument, but Cartman didn’t take the bait. He frowned, looking over at Stan, who just shrugged in confusion.

“Not worth it, man,” he offered, pulling up the hood of his coat as the bus started to drive into view.

“Guess not,” Kenny muttered to himself, straightening the straps of his backpack once again as the three of them loaded onto the bus. He half expected Cartman to ditch the group, but he was more than surprised when he took the seat right next to Kyle, still frowning as he looked past them out into the middle distance. Kenny met Kyle’s gaze, both unsure as to how to handle Cartman like this. But with Kenny not wanting to waste anymore time, he shook his head and took a seat in front of Kyle, Stan sliding in next to him as the bus peeled off.

“Okay, so,” Kenny started, looking between Stan and Kyle, “You two better be done with this petty back-and-forth because I am fucking over playing couple’s counselor for the two of you.”

Stan hit him in the shoulder, as Kyle’s eyes widened, the briefest look of panic flashing across his face before he cleared his throat. How Stan could be so oblivious when Kyle acted like this, Kenny would never know.

“We’re good, everything’s good,” Kyle laughed awkwardly, trying his best to appear nonchalant. It didn’t work. “Everything’s back to normal. You know, aside from the obvious.” Kyle seemed more caviler than Kenny would have thought, given the direness of their dilemma before quickly remembering that Kyle had missed out on a pretty major event the other night. He narrowed his eyes at Stan.

“Are you positive you told him everything?” he asked.

“ I already told you dude, yeah ,” Stan answered.

“So you mentioned our little trip to the school Wednesday night? The meeting we eavesdropped on?” Kenny asked in clarification. The slight shift in Kyle’s face told him everything he needed to know.

“Wait what? I haven’t heard about this,” Kyle leaned forward onto the bus seat, looking between Stan, Kenny, and Cartman, “What kind of meeting?”

Kenny stared blankly at Stan, “You had one fucking job, dude.”

“That is so not fair!” Stan exclaimed, “I had a lot of shit to think about, alright! Don’t pin this on me!”

“It’s not like any of us had time to tell him!” Kenny shot back.

“Okay, you can argue about who’s at fault later,” Kyle put a hand between the two of them to get their attention, “What did you guys find out?”

Kenny sighed, but turned to face Kyle, “Mephesto told the teachers about the machine, and thinks that if we don’t switch back soon, we might get stuck like this. Permanently .”

To say that Kyle looked terrified would be an understatement. He lost all color in his face as the words hit him. But after a quick second of processing, he punctured Stan in the shoulder. “How the fuck could you forget to tell me this!?”

“There were more important things to talk about!”

“More important than us getting stuck like this?!”

“At the moment, yes!”

“It’s not like it fucking matters,” Cartman finally spoke up, and all of them turned to his direction, “It’s a trap. Don’t you think it’s a little convenient that they started talking about the shit that involves us the second we showed up? Or that they somehow haven’t narrowed it down to us by now?”

“Jesus Christ, not again,” Kenny groaned, “Dude, we really don’t have the luxury of debating whether or not it’s a serious threat-”

“Well if you wanna be test dummies for whatever Mephesto has planned, be my fucking guest!” Cartman snapped, “But I’m not turning myself in just because you assholes can’t see that we’re being used.”

Kenny shook his head, “Whatever,” he grumbled, “It’s two against one. We already wasted a day, so if we want to tell the teachers, we gotta act fast. Kyle?” He looked back at his friend, who was deep in thought. “What do you think?”

Kyle looked between the three of them, and bit his lip nervously. “Honestly,” his face scrunched up in worry, “I think Cartman might have a point.”

“Ha!” Cartman exclaimed as Stan and Kenny groaned.

“You seriously don’t mean that, dude,” Stan locked eyes with Kyle, who quickly looked away.

“I’m not saying that we shouldn’t say anything,” Kyle explained, which earned him a glare from Cartman, “But maybe there’s someway we can find out exactly what would happen if we turned ourselves in.”

“That’s such a cop out answer,” Cartman complained.

“Do you want my vote or not?” Kyle asked directly, crossing his arms.

“This shouldn’t even be a vote!” Kenny slammed his hand down on the back of the bus seat, “The longer we wait, the less time we might have to un-fuck the situation. If we’re not all on the same page, fine, but I’m not just gonna sit here and argue about the best way to handle this.”

“Okay, since you’re so confident, what’s the plan?” Cartman asked, his tone dripping with sarcasm and malice.

Kenny swallowed hard. He didn’t really have a plan. As much as he just wanted to march into Mackey’s office and be done with it, he knew that wasn’t the smartest way to go about it. Not that he would admit it out loud, but Cartman’s point did make him the tiniest bit skeptical. 

It had all been so last minute. Butters had called him in such a panic- upset with himself that he missed something so helpful until right beforehand- that Kenny didn’t question it at the time. But if this was for some godforsaken reason, some kind of ploy, that might explain why Butters didn’t find out anything until Wednesday evening.

“I… I don’t know,” Kenny muttered, “Not yet, at least.”

“As if you have any coherent plans,” Kyle pointed out to Cartman, “Unless this weird sulking thing is a part of it.”

“Oh fuck off,” Cartman cursed, “You spent all yesterday with a dumbass look on your face because of your screw ups!”

“Because I didn’t know that we were in a time crunch, Cartman!” Kyle spat through gritted teeth.

As Kyle and Cartman continued to argue, Kenny looked down at his phone, and pulled up his messages with Butters. He hadn’t heard anything from the guy all day yesterday, which was concerning to say the least. Maybe he hit a similar dead end that Kyle had hit at the beginning of the week. Regardless, he knew that it was now or never to buckle down and figure this shit out, so he sent Butters a message.

Haven’t heard from you, any updates?

Looking at the message, Kenny felt a bit guilty. He knew he should have checked in with him yesterday, if not for information, just to make sure he was doing alright. When Stan had nearly fallen off the side of the school, the terrified look on Butters’ face made his heart ache. If it really had been Kenny, and if he had actually fallen off, it would have been fine cause he would just come right back after a day if it had been fatal. Not that Butters knew that.

Sometime between running around as Mysterion and getting flung out off the side of a semi truck being chased by cereal mascots, Kenny had forgotten that people still do get worried for his well being, even if they forget what actually happens to him. He had gotten so numb to the lack of concern when he returned, that what people must have felt when he died was the last thing on his mind.

God, that makes him sound like such a jackass, and a bit of a hypocrite. He had been on Stan’s ass for not being honest with Kyle, but it wasn’t like he was some open book with everyone. That was really the problem with all of them right now. It reminded him of something Cartman had said earlier this week. They all had their secrets. But what good does-

“Who ya texting?” Cartman asked, jumping Kenny from his thoughts. He leaned over the seat to try to swipe the phone from Kenny, but thankfully, his reflexes kicked in just in time and he managed to move the phone out of Cartman’s grasp. “The hell, dude! It’s my fucking phone!”

“Well, you could be polite and fucking ask to see!” Kenny spat in defense, ignoring the peeved off look from Cartman as he sunk back down in his seat. Kenny turned to Stan for assistance, but unfortunately, he was not on Kenny’s side in this instance.

“You texting Butters?” Stan asked, and Kenny could practically hear the shit eating grin plastered on his face.

Kenny felt his cheeks heat up in embarrassment. “Just… checking in on stuff,” he mumbled as he shoved the phone back in his pocket, “Don’t see what the big deal is.”

“I didn’t say it was a big deal.”

“Okay, then just fucking drop it, alright?”

“The only one who’s still talking about it is you.”

“Listen here, smartass. I-”

“What are you two going on about?” Kyle asked, looking between the two. Kenny didn’t get a second to clarify anything, because Stan and Kyle shared one look, and a knowing smile spread onto Kyle’s face. He hated when those two did that. “No fucking way.”

“I know, right?” Stan joked.

“Huh? What’s going on with Kenny?” Cartman asked, leaning back over the seat to try and gauge Stan and Kyle’s reactions.

“It’s nothing,” Kenny quickly tried to shift focus, his face heating up, “Like, seriously not important-“

“Not important my ass,” Stan chuckled, “For all the shit you give, you really can’t handle it when it’s thrown back at you, huh?”

Kenny felt his face get even warmer, “Keep your fucking mouth shut, dude!”

“Oh my god, can one of you just tell me? This is getting stupid,” Cartman groaned.

“No, no, no,” Kenny quickly put his hand over Stan’s mouth, not that it would do much since it was already covered by hood of his jacket, “This is the least important thing going on-“

“I would say a crush on Butters may be slightly more important given that he’s our research guy right now,” Kyle interrupted, a smug-ass grin on his face. All Kenny could do at this point was sigh in defeat, as a look of surprise and disgust spread across Cartman’s face.

“Butters?” He asked, “Are you fucking serious? Please tell me you’re not fucking serious.”

“I-“ Kenny stopped himself, flustered by all his friends’ eyes on him. When he said he wished he wasn’t ignored all the time, this was not the way he wanted the pendulum to swing. “Look, he’s not that bad.”

With that, Cartman erupted into laughter, every attempt to address Kenny directly making him laugh even harder. Kenny sighed heavily, giving Stan a glare that said ‘See what you did?’.

“I think it’s just surprising, not a bad thing,” Kyle commented, doing his best to ignore Cartman’s exaggerated reaction.

Kenny snorted, “Sure, just surprising,” He turned to Cartman, “Feels a little harsh if you ask me.”

“A little harsh?!” Cartman managed to get out, wiping tears from his eyes, “Are we talking about the same Butters? What the actual hell do you see in him?”

“None of your fucking business!” Kenny shot back, “Especially since you’re just gonna make fun of me regardless.”

Cartman gasped in fake offense, “Me? Make fun of you? I would never .”

“Cut him some slack, Cartman,” Kyle tried to reason, “It’s not like we’ve been partially easy on his relationships in the past. Remember Tammy?”

“Yeah, whatever happened to her?” Stan asked.

Kenny rolled his eyes, “She moved fucking ages ago, broke up a while before that, not like any of you bothered to ask when it happened.”

Kyle narrowed his eyes at him, finally clocking his sour mood, “What’s up with you today?”

“Nothing,” he answered way too quickly, “Can’t I just be feeling shitty? Doesn’t need to be some big reason for it.”

“Well, I guess not,” Kyle furrowed his brow, “But-”

“But nothing,” Kenny interrupted, “We have bigger problems right now.”

“Yeah, but wasn’t ignoring things kind of-”

“Just fuck off, Kyle!” He exclaimed, dramatically turning around and slumping further down the seat. The silence following left an awkward sting, and he caught Stan sharing a look with Kyle out of the corner of his eye. Cartman, ever the oblivious, couldn’t help but chuckle.

“At least you’re starting to sound like me now,” he grumbled. 

The tiniest of strings holding up Kenny’s sanity snapped. “You sonofa-” he started to curse, quickly making a move to strangle the dipshit over the bus seat, but Stan and Kyle jumped in almost instantly, Stan grabbing onto Kenny’s arm and pulling him away, while Kyle put himself physically in between the two. The amused look on Cartman’s face snapped to fear, and he nearly fell into the aisle trying to avoid getting his ass handed to him.

Any further debacle was saved by the bus pulling up to the school, and Stan keeping a grip on Kenny’s arm as Cartman walked down the aisle.

Kenny wasn’t normally this irritable, and truthly, he didn’t really know what to blame his frustrations on. He could blame Cartman, which was the easiest route, but it wasn’t entirely Cartman’s fault. If the dumbass was fighting them for petty reasons, then sure, but he was bringing up realistic concerns, so saying that he was the main culprit felt wrong. He could blame it on yesterday’s events, but Kenny had dragged himself into all of that. Was it purely just because it was still stuck in Cartman’s body? 

It wasn’t that stupid of a reason, but with the four of them going onto day five of the body swap, he couldn’t help but feel that it wasn’t a good enough excuse to act like an asshole. Like, why act up now? Why not when it first happened? What was so different about it now that warranted him wanting to choke out Cartman?

He wished that he had better answers.

He also wished he knew what the fuck was going on with Butters. The day was dragging on at a snail’s pace, and each and every time he checked his phone, his message was still left on delivered. No one had seen him, no one else had heard from him, and no one seemed to care. Aside from Kenny himself, but he didn’t think he should count in this context.

By the time lunch came around, Kenny was doing double takes anytime someone blonde, or wearing light blue passed him in the hallway. As Kenny took his seat at the lunch table, Cartman only seconds behind, he made a quick sweep of the cafeteria, but still couldn’t spot Butters amongst the crowd of students.

“Okay, now you’re just looking desperate,” Cartman chuckled to himself, “It’s not that big of a deal.”

“How are you not the least bit concerned about this?” Kenny asked, “You do realize he’s kind of the lynchpin in us fixing this problem ourselves, right?”

Cartman’s amused smile faded, eyebrow raised in judgment, “And whose fault is that? I distinctly remember telling the group that bringing him in wasn’t the right call. But did any of you listen to me? No!”

“Oh, like everything you’ve done this week has gone over so well,” Kenny said, pulling out his phone one more time, not even the slightest bit surprised the text had yet to be opened. He wasn’t sure if it would have been better if Butters had left him on read, at least then he would know the guy was still running around somewhere with access to the internet.

“Still nothing?” Stan asked, sliding into his seat next to Kenny. Kyle was slightly behind, only hesitating for a brief second before sitting down next to Cartman, who had returned to his sulky state after Kenny’s comment.

“Nope, radio silence,” Kenny sighed, putting the phone back in his pocket, “So, other than Cartman, any objections to walking to Mackey’s office in like fifteen minutes?”

“This is discrimination,” Cartman muttered, fully turning himself around as he seethed in annoyance.

“Jesus christ, dude,” Stan sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as Kyle rolled his eyes.

“No, no, go through this without me, see if I fucking care,” Cartman waved a hand, like he could conduct the conversation into ignoring him, before crossing his arms over his chest.

“Having a tantrum over this won’t make us take you any more seriously,” Kyle tried to explain, but his choice of words seemed to only piss Cartman off more, as he quickly whipped around to face him.

“Tantrum?!” He repeated in offense, “I beg your fucking pardon! I’m exercising my rights here, since all of you won’t listen to reason!”

“Maybe we would if you actually were being reasonable,” Stan grumbled under his breath, but Cartman didn’t seem to hear.

“Well I would love to hear your bright ideas on how we should switch back,” Kyle said through gritted teeth, “Since you were so harsh on Kenny earlier.”

Cartman frowned, “Didn’t I suggest this the first fucking day?! We break into the goddamn lab! I don’t know why I need to keep repeating myself.”

“We are going in fucking circles,” Kenny groaned, “You know damn well why we shot that down. We don’t know how to work the Electron Swap-”

“Well that didn’t stop us from getting swapped in the first place!” Cartman exclaimed, “It can’t be that hard to undo.”

“Yes, because breaking and entering is so much better than getting detention, are you even listening to yourself?!” Kyle exclaimed, “There’s no world in which we break in and don’t get caught, and an even slimmer chance of us even getting one chance to try to use the machine.”

Kenny waited for the truth to finally catch up to Cartman, for him to realize fighting them on this was pointless, but instead he narrowed his eyes, just staring at Kyle in confusion.

“What are you talking about? I broke into that place all the time when we were ten, how could it be that different now?” he asked.

Everyone else’s face dropped. Stan, Kyle, and Kenny each shared a look before turning back to Cartman, who looked even more confused than before.

“The fuck are you talking about?” Stan asked.

“When we were playing superheroes,” Cartman further explained, like that should have been obvious, “I’d break in all the time. It made it super fucking easy when I lured you all-“ he quickly stopped himself, clearing his throat, “I mean, when Mitch Conner kidnapped me to lure you all in.”

Kenny would have found this revelation relieving, but given how long it had been since they had discussed their original plan, he couldn’t help the rage that boiled inside of him.

Kyle’s eye twitched, “Even when you’re trying to prove a point you won’t admit that you're Mitch Conner, I swear to god Cartman -”

“Why the fuck did you not mention this on Tuesday?!” Kenny exclaimed, “You know, the day we talked about what our fucking plan was!?”

“Well, nobody asked me!” Cartman answered defensively, “Stan and Kyle were too busy bickering and then you all collectively moved on from the idea.”

Stan dragged his hands down his face. “The one fucking time you don’t bring up something,” he said under his breath, “Cartman, that would have saved us so much fucking time, what the hell is wrong with you?”

“No, no, don’t give him credit for this,” Kyle was quick to cut in before Cartman could answer Stan’s rhetorical question, “Just because you can get us in doesn’t mean you can switch us back. This doesn’t change anything.”

Cartman rolled his eyes dramatically, “Oh please, it’s the best we got since Butters is fucking awol-”

With that reminder, Kenny checked his phone once more. Still nothing.

“-and I’m the only one thinking logically here!”

“Dude, you’re the only one here who is willing to risk this on a fucking hunch,” Kyle reminded him, his voice low, “If anything, you’re the one who needs to prove that whatever you all heard on Wednesday was a fucking set up. Not us, you.”

Tension filled the air as Kyle and Cartman locked their gaze, neither budging on their stance. Cartman opened his mouth slightly, but whatever argument he had seemed to fizzle out the longer he took to think about it. After a pause, he turned away from Kyle once again, crossing his arms and mumbling vague insults that Kenny couldn’t quite make out.

“Good, that’s settled then,” Kyle sighed, “We’ve got that weird passing period before seventh period, which should give us enough time to go to Mackey’s office. Whatever happens from there… we’ll just roll with it.”

“Sounds good to me,” Stan smiled, bluntly ignoring Cartman, who was still fuming, “Kenny?”

“I’m down,” Kenny fought the urge to check his phone again, “Any reason to skip seventh period is a good reason. I think we’ve got that Spanish test today so I’m all for not being there.”

“Oh fuck is that test today?,” Stan’s face went pale. Poor guy hadn’t done any studying since the swap (and probably before). “Kyle, can we swing by my locker real quick? I think I have my textbook in there.”

Kyle laughed, “If you can even find it in there, it’s basically a landfill.”

“It’s not that bad,” Stan frowned.

“Well, you have to be the one to open it, cause I’m not risking it,” Kyle put his hands up in surrender as he got up from his seat.

“You’re such a pussy sometimes,” Stan joked as he followed suit.

“Shut up, dude, whatever,” Kyle punched Stan’s arm playfully as they matched their stride.

And without a single acknowledgement of the other two at the table, Stan and Kyle were off. Guess things were going back to normal, Kenny thought to himself. Well, more or less normal. Which reminded him-

“Apparently they’re both stupider than we give them credit for,” Kenny said as he watched Stan and Kyle walk out of the cafeteria. Cartman stirred from his rage, and raised an eyebrow, intrigued. Kenny continued, “Kyle took Stan’s confession in a platonic way, and Stan still doesn’t see just how much Kyle will trip over himself if I imply even the slightest bit of romantic tension between the two.”

“Jesus christ,” Cartman murmured, looking behind him to follow Kenny’s gaze, just barely able to catch the two of them laughing about something before they passed the door to the hallway. He turned back around slowly, eyebrows knit in thought, his annoyance fading, “Has… Have you talked to Kyle alone at all today?”

Kenny furrowed his brow, “No, why?’

“Nothing, just… forget I said anything,” Cartman shook his head, and crossed his arms over his chest. He was acting like he was this morning, distant, weirdly quiet, and Kenny was getting a bit worried. Maybe the reality of this body swap was finally starting to settle in his mind. Maybe something happened with Kyle’s parents. It would explain his demeanor this morning, but what would that have to do with Kyle talking to Kenny at some point today? Was it actually about Kyle himself?

He sighed heavily. Avoiding the subject wasn’t gonna get him any answers. “I’m gonna regret asking this but are you doing okay?” Kenny asked.

Cartman seemed confused by the question, scowling at him before answering. “You actually care?”

“Unfortunately for both you and me, yes, I do fucking care,” Kenny narrowed his eyes, “What the hell is going on with you?”

There was a pause, Cartman just staring at Kenny with the same angry disbelief he had earlier. For a split second, Kenny thought he was going to tell him to fuck off, but whatever Cartman had planned to say was cut off by someone in a familiar purple cardigan slamming her hand on the lunch table, startling the two of them.

“I’m sick of you trying to avoid me, we need to talk,” Wendy announced, glaring down Cartman as she loomed over the table, back fully turned to Kenny. He could just barely make out the brief surprised look on Cartman’s face, which was instantly shifted into disdain.

“We already fucking talked, it’s not my fault you couldn’t get it through your thick skull the first time,” Eric spat back. Kenny’s eyes widened in panic. No, no, no, no, what the fuck was he doing?

“That wasn’t talking, you just said some vague shit and then walked away!” Wendy exclaimed, louder than Kenny would have liked, as other students’ conversations started to die out, and they turned to look in their direction. “I want to have a real conversation about this. About Stan-”

“That’s rich coming from you!” Cartman laughed, standing up to face her better, “You’ve done nothing but bitch to me all week! How many times do I have to tell you to mind your own fucking business?!”

As more and more students turned to watch, Kenny’s panic got worse. He had no clue what the hell was going on between the two of them, and at this point, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. But the last thing any of them needed was more eyes on them right now.

What the hell kind of joke would Cartman make about this situation? What commonality between Kyle and Wendy could he- okay, well there really was only one thing, and he didn’t have enough time to worry about it being a bit of a low ball. He cleared his throat, “What’s wrong, Wendy? Got tired of just being romantic rivals with Ky-”

“Butt out, Cartman,” Wendy cut off, her voice cold and unwavering, not even sparing him a glance. Her eyes were locked on Cartman, who was just as invested in the argument, “I don’t know why you’re being so immature about this. I get that we’re not close or whatever but-”

“Yeah, we’re fucking not!” Cartman snapped, “So, once again, I. Don’t. Owe. You. Shit.”

Normally, Kenny wouldn’t care about Cartman picking a fight with Wendy, because she could easily hand his ass to him if things got physical. But this was very different. Wendy didn’t know it was Cartman, and if Cartman’s actions earlier this week were anything to go by… physical violence wasn’t completely off the table.

“So you two nerds gonna do anything?,” Kenny tried to interrupt once more, his nerves just skimming below the surface, “Cause I don’t think fighting over homework is really gonna-”

“And to think I actually felt bad for you,” Wendy cut him off once again, this time like she didn’t even hear him, “But you just don’t seem to care anymore.”

“Cut the crap, like you aren’t itching to go back to him,” Cartman sneered, “Old habits die hard, don’t they?” 

While Kenny couldn’t see Wendy’s face, he could only imagine the daggers she was glaring into Cartman. If Kenny hadn’t been thinking about it before, he would have been more surprised when Wendy suddenly rushed forward, pushing Cartman back slightly as she began to tear into him harsher than she had been before. 

Though he wasn’t surprised by the turn of events, he felt just as lost. Things had quickly gone from bad to worse, and given nothing was working before, Kenny decided to take the coward’s way out. Without another word, he booked it out of the cafeteria to Stan’s locker.

“You guys!” Kenny yelled, racing through the hallway. The lack of traction on his shoes made him slide around the tiles and he rounded the corner. His eyes landed on Stan and Kyle almost instantly. “You guys!” He ran up to the pair of them, panting hard as he put a hand on the nearby lockers to steady himself.

“Okay, if that was on purpose, this Cartman impression is getting pretty good,” Kyle commented, somewhat impressed, but clearly not reading into his panic.

“No, I- oh Jesus christ,” Kenny tried to argue as he caught his breath, “There’s something-”

“Is that why you were acting upset this morning?” Kyle asked.

Kenny furrowed his brow, “What? No, I-”

“It happened before we got on the bus too, maybe it’s cause we’ve been swapped for so long,” Stan offered, shoving a small pile of papers and miscellaneous garbage back into his locker.

“Guys-”

“Huh, I mean, stuff like that was probably bound to happen,” Kyle pondered, “Would you say you feel more like Kenny?”

Stan shrugged as he closed the locker, “Not particularly.”

“We’ve got a situation!” Kenny finally managed to interject.

Stan and Kyle shared another look. “Don’t tell me. Cartman’s got some plan to ‘uncover the truth’”, Stan used air quotes around the phrase, “He’s so ridiculous sometimes.”

“No, it’s Wendy and… and Cartman,” he motioned behind him to the doors, trying his best to compose himself, “They’re gonna… fighting-”

“I’m sure it’s fine, Kenny,” Kyle said, “I don’t always agree with Wendy but that doesn’t mean-”

“Shut the fuck up!” Kenny exclaimed, leaning forward as he grabbed Kyle by the collar of his jacket, “I’m not fucking around! Those two are gonna get in a fist fight, and I’m not able to stop it, so pull it to- fucking -gether before I drag you out there myself!”

The color had drained from Kyle’s face as the realization hit Stan, his eyes widening in panic. “Oh fuck,” he muttered, “That isn’t gonna end well,” and he ran back towards the cafeteria.

Stan leaving seemed to kick Kyle into high gear, and he pried himself from Kenny’s grasp, running after Stan. “Dude wait!”

Kenny sighed heavily. More fucking running. At least they were listening to him.

When he made it back to the cafeteria, it wasn’t hard to spot his table, now surrounded by students of all grades, all murmuring about some kind of fight. He caught up with Stan and Kyle, who were still standing on the outside, trying to catch a look.

“We might be too late,” Stan looked back at Kenny, “What were they even fighting about?”

“Something… something to do with you,” Kenny answered, still breathing kind of heavy. He locked eyes with Kyle, “You’re gonna have to go in.”

“Me?!” Kyle exclaimed, louder than he wanted to. Only a few looked over before Kyle got closer to Kenny, voice low, “What the fuck am I supposed to do?”

“I don’t know, talk some sense into Wendy, stop Cartman from getting you expelled,” Kenny suggested, “But it’s gotta be you.”

“He’s right,” Stan sighed, “Everyone else sees you and Wendy, if either of us,” he gestured to himself and Kenny, “Step in, people are gonna ask more questions. You don’t have to say much just… get in between them.”

Kyle didn’t seem too convinced, but as the crowd's murmurs started to get louder, the three of them broke off their conversation to push through to the inner edge of the formation. Wendy and Cartman were still in a similar position from when Kenny had left them, which was slightly relieving.

This relief didn’t last too long. By the time the three of them had made it to the edge of the onlookers, Cartman made a move to shove Wendy, which she quickly dodged, grabbing him by the wrist. Cartman yelped in pain, his body twisting awkwardly as he tried to pull away from her grasp.

“Oh fuck,” Stan cursed, reaching out a hand to Kyle, who was already running off before either of them could make some sort of plan. Kyle rushed forward, grabbing Cartman by the shoulders to pull him away from the altercation. Wendy quickly let go of Cartman upon his arrival, but Cartman wasn’t thrilled to have help.

“Back off, you dick!” he cursed, pulling away from Kyle’s grasp to face him.

“This has gone on long enough, dude!” Kyle’s voice was stern, and Kenny could see him working overtime to not curse Cartman out.

“You can ditch the fucking hero complex, I don’t want your goddamn help!” Cartman snapped back, getting dangerously close to Kyle.

“This is really bad,” Stan commented, cringing as Kyle and Cartman’s normal banter and arguments were escalating right in front of their eyes, “We gotta do something.”

“Easier said than done,” Kenny grumbled, remembering his piss poor attempt from before. If he had managed to get a word out over Wendy then maybe-

But Wendy wasn’t fighting anymore. Once Kyle joined the ring, she took a step back, no more an onlooker than Kenny was. Maybe he had been wrong before. Maybe he could stop this. One thought, his half finished joke from earlier came to mind, and as stupid as it was, it wasn’t too low for Cartman.

“Sorry about this in advance,” Kenny quickly told Stan as he took a few more steps toward the center. Stan gave him an odd look, about to ask him several questions when Kenny yelled out over the crowd, “Uh oh! Looks like Stan’s girlfriends got into a cat fight!”

Kyle and Cartman froze, the anger in both of their faces dropping as silence washed over the crowd, quickly followed by a quiet laughter from some of the guys their age.

“The fuck are you talking about?” Kyle asked in a panicked tone, carefully taking a few steps away from Cartman.

“Oh sorry, my bad, guess Wendy’s your ex now, huh?” Kenny added crossing his arms and smirking. He sounded like an ass, but for the time being, that was the goal.

“Dude, what are you doing?” Stan asked quietly.

He scowled in Stan’s direction, already planning his apology text as more Cartman-like remarks formed in his head. “Come on, I’m just saying what everyone’s thinking!” He exclaimed, gesturing to the crowd that was lingering at the scene, before turning back to Kyle. “You really do have a type, don’t you Marsh?”

“Knock it off, right now,” Kyle warned, eyes narrowing at Kenny, a flash of his temper just bubbling at the surface. But Kenny was in too deep now. At this point, he knew he was gonna get punched in the face, but that might be the best way to steer attention away from Cartman and Wendy for the time being.

“Didn’t I already tell you to butt out,” Wendy added, stepping back in.

“What? Did I hit a nerve?” Kenny asked mockingly, “Jeez, both you and Kyle are pissy today,” he gestured between the two, trying not to pause on the utterly terrified look on Cartman’s face, “Did your periods sync up or what?”

“Fucking quit it, Cartman!” Kyle snapped, but his voice got lost as the crowd started laughing even more.

But Kenny wasn’t focused on the crowd. His eyes drifted over to Cartman, who was starting to shrink in on himself, shaky eyes darting around the cafeteria, his breathing accelerated. What the hell was going on with him?

Before he could do anything else, Cartman ran off, pushing past the crowd of their peers as they all snickered. Kenny’s stomach turned in anxiety. He had gone too far. But why didn’t he feel like it? He didn’t say anything that was that much worse than Cartman would have said, right?

Kyle looked even more lost than he had before, all his rage that was building now simmering down, just as surprised as Kenny was at Cartman’s actions. From the corner of his eye, Kenny saw Stan finally step forward.

“Dude, go,” Stan motioned in the direction Cartman had run off in, keeping his voice low. Kyle nodded as subtly as he could, still looking distressed as all hell, before bolting towards the exit.

“Kyle, wait!” he called out, his own name rolling off his tongue as naturally as it could. As he left, Kenny had assumed the crowd would waver, dispersing as the main event had left, but he felt his guilt bubbling back up as his peers all turned back to him. His work wasn’t quite done.

“God, what a fucking pussy,” he projected in the direction Cartman had left, “Guess he couldn’t handle a bit of-”

Kenny was cut off as someone slapped him hard across his face. He stumbled backwards, quickly bringing a hand to his cheek, now stinging from the hit. When he looked up, he half expected it to be Stan, done with Kenny’s slander, but was surprised when his eyes met Wendy’s.

“You really don’t know when to quit when you’re ahead, do you?” she asked, her glare just as murderous as it had been for Cartman.

Kenny forced out a cocky laugh, “Just saying it how I see it.”

She huffed angrily, but walked away, meeting up with Bebe at the edge of the crowd. The rest of the students 'awed’ in disappointment at the lack of a real fight, and finally started to leave. Kenny let out a sigh of relief once he felt everyone’s eyes off of him. 

“What the hell was that for, dude?” Stan asked him once most of the students were out of hearing range.

“I said I was sorry in advance!” Kenny snapped, rubbing his sore cheek lightly. “Besides, it worked. It stopped them fighting.”

Stan didn’t look too impressed, “Couldn’t stop at just starting to sound like him, huh? Now you’re starting to think like Cartman.”

Kenny’s blood ran cold. “You think I liked saying that bullshit?” he asked, “If Cartman wasn’t stupid enough to pick a fight with Wendy, none of that would have happened. Don’t get mad at me for trying to course correct.”

While he didn’t look entirely convinced, Stan sighed, his anger shifting to worry, “Sorry, dude. I just… I’m worried about how Kyle takes that kind of stuff, you know?”

“No, I hear you,” Kenny’s eyes drifted toward the exit their friends had gone through moments ago, “I’m more worried about why Cartman ran off like that.”

Chapter Text

Eric burst down the bathroom door, hyperventilating as he stumbled towards the stall, collapsing onto the floor, his legs pushed up against his chest as he tried to calm himself down. He could hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears, adrenaline rushing through his veins from how fast he had run off. His breathing was frantic, sharp inhales as he tried his best to not panic.

He was failing, but trying nonetheless.

He wasn’t even sure why the fuck he had ran like that. The shit Kenny was saying was no different than the stuff Eric has been saying for the past few years, hell, the past few days, so why did it bother him so much? Why now??

It was his fault, he knew that much. Guess trying to be the “bigger person” and clarifying things with Wendy was a piss-poor idea. In the moment, it seemed like a genius plan, telling her that he cleared things up with “Stan”, and that she didn’t need to worry about it anymore, it should have been enough to get her to back off. Turns out leaving the conversation before she could ask any follow up questions was a mistake.

He squeezed his eyes shut, hugging his legs, and made an attempt to regulate his breathing. Getting this worked up over something that didn’t actually concern him was ridiculous. Wendy had just pissed him off more so than usual, and then Kenny just so managed to hit every fucking problem that’s happened this week (even down to the period shit which would have been impressive if Eric wasn’t so stressed about the whole ordeal). 

And Kyle. Fucking Kyle. He had to step in and fix things. Or at least attempt to.

It pissed him off, more than it should have. Not anything Kyle had said or did, just the fact that he had to step in. Every time Eric had done something this week, one of the others just had to rush in and save the day. He wasn’t helpless. He could have fixed those situations easily. Since when were they expert actors?! Stan wasn’t even trying half the time! Eric had it so much harder than they all realized. 

Maybe that was why he was so pissed off, so worked up. Stan, Kyle, and Kenny- his supposed friends- couldn’t help but step on his toes, tripping over themselves to fix things that weren’t broken in the first place, all in an effort to… what? Maintain some sort of normalcy? Switch their bodies back? Well, they were failing on those fronts if that was the case.

Fuck them! He didn’t need them! He could do just fine on his own. He could… Okay, maybe he needed them to get back to his own body, but after that, who cares?! 

He certainly didn’t. Or maybe he cared too much. God, why the fuck was he being so indecisive?! 

Eric’s heart skipped a beat as he heard the door to the bathroom slam open, his stomach dropping in anxiety as the footsteps approached the stall. 

“Cartman?” he heard Kyle ask hesitantly. He exhaled a shaky breath, and pushed the stall door open. Meeting Kyle’s eyes, his guts started to twist, feeling uneasy as Kyle cautiously brought himself to the floor, now level with Eric. He had expected Kyle to be mad, but his expression was hard to read, which only made Eric more nervous than before.

He cleared his throat. “I’m not gonna apologize for anything, Wendy was being a bitch.”

“Fair enough,” Kyle bit back a laugh, his brow still fraught with worry, “What did you say to her earlier that caused all that?”

“Nothing too crazy,” He shrugged, “Just that things with ‘Stan’ were cleared up, everything was back to normal, so she can lay off.”

Kyle sighed, leaning his head back against the frame of the stall, eyes closed. “Yeah, no wonder she wanted to kick your ass.”

“Ay!” Eric interjected, “She wanted to kick my ass because I called her a bitch afterwards, not because of that!”

“Oh, my apologies, that definitely excuses everything,” Kyle shook his head, “And here I was worried she was being the unreasonable one.”

Eric scowled, huffing as he crossed his arms and turned away from Kyle. God, could he not be a self-righteous asshole for two seconds?

“Honestly, I’m more surprised that you just booked it out of there,” Kyle continued, “Part of me thought you were just gonna add on to Kenny’s little distraction.”

“And say what? ‘Oh, you found me out, how could you tell?’” Eric snapped back, “What do you take me for, an idiot?”

“No,” Kyle sighed, “I just thought you would be more… cruel. That’s all.”

“Oh,” Eric felt himself deflate. Kyle wasn’t wrong. Kenny really had set him up to expose Kyle right in front of everyone. In front of Stan. “That’s fair.”

He waited for Kyle to ask one of the many questions Eric was sure he had, but they sat in silence for a while, just barely acknowledging the other’s presence. He wondered if Kyle got just as freaked out as he did, just as surprised. He was probably more used to it than Eric was, he’s been dealing with this shit from him since elementary school. That weird twisting feeling in his gut came back.

“Does it bother you?” Eric broke the silence, eyes fixated on one of the broken tiles of the bathroom floor, “When I say shit like Kenny was saying? Calling you Stan’s girlfriend and the period stuff?”

Kyle hummed in contemplation, and Eric dared to look back up at him. “Honestly,” Kyle’s brow scrunched together in thought, “Not as much as it used to. When we were younger, I thought the more you made jokes like that, the more people would suspect something, but no one really took it at face value so… It’s just par for the course.” He paused, looking back over at Eric. “Is… is that why you ran out like that?”

Eric hugged his knees closer to his chest, turning his eyes away again. Kenny’s words had struck a weird cord within him, still tossing around in his head. It had been more so the timing than anything. Figures that right after Eric decides to do something completely selfless, it would come to bite him in the ass not even a day later. 

Kyle laughed sharply, “You’ve said worse shit than that before you knew I was trans, why does-”

“It’s just different now, alright!” He interrupted. Kyle’s smile faded, and Eric realized just how weird that must have sounded, coming from him. 

“Cartman, why did you call off the deal?” Kyle asked. Just remembering that stupid text he had sent last night made his heart crawl up his throat. He didn’t know what he had been thinking. He could blame it on him just being hormonal, but Kyle would probably punch him in the face. There was a beat before Kyle quickly backtracked, “I’m not saying I’m not grateful or anything, just… why? I’m… I’m a little confused.”

That makes the two of us, Eric thought. After talking with Kyle’s mom on the ride home, he just sat in Kyle’s room staring at the ceiling for what felt like hours. Even though he had been living with Kyle’s parents this whole week, it wasn’t until then did he realize just how… strained things were in the Broflovski household. Even though they clearly cared for Kyle, their concern and worries far overshadowed their support. Until that conversation in the car, he would have thought that the reason Kyle wasn’t on some sort of guy hormones or whatever was a choice he was making. Eric didn’t know why Kyle would make that choice, but Kyle was weird like that so he didn’t put it past him.

His parents being the ones that were on the fence explained a lot more. It explained why he didn’t want to tell the others. It explained why he was probably so hesitant to tell Stan his feelings. It explained why he so easily agreed to owe Eric favors.

For better or for worse, that last point was the one that stuck in his mind as reflected back on the week. In the past, whenever they had some kind of deal, it was on their terms, as stupid as those terms might have been. But their most recent deal hadn’t been Kyle’s choice. Not really.

Maybe that was why he was feeling so shitty all of the sudden. Maybe that’s why everything felt so off lately.

Because… where was the fun in blackmailing Kyle if Eric felt like shit the whole time?

When he came to that conclusion, he had sent the text. He had then quickly remembered that he shouldn’t be leaving evidence of that shit in a text thread and deleted the message.

Looking at Kyle now, the anger in Eric’s chest simmered down from the fight, and the small part of him that still wanted to string him along just to be a dick was drowned out by overwhelming guilt that ate at his thoughts.

With a sigh, he answered. “Your parents are letting you go on testosterone.”

Kyle laughed sharply, and rolled his eyes, “Yeah, yeah, real funny, what is it really?”

“I’m being serious,” Eric met Kyle’s eyes. He didn’t blame Kyle for not believing him, if Eric was in his shoes, he would think that same fucking thing. Kyle had no reason to trust him. Not after the shit he’s pulled lately. It took a second for it to really dawn on Kyle, but as the two sat in silence, he watched as Kyle’s shoulders started to relax, and he started to get misty eyed.

“They really-” Kyle’s voice cracked, but Eric got the gist, nodding as the tears streamed down Kyle’s cheeks. He laughed, breathless and in disbelief, rubbing at his eyes as he cried more. He looked relieved. But it only lasted so long, Kyle’s mind always firing at 100 miles per hour, and he quickly turned back to Eric. “What does that have to do with our deal?”

“I… I don’t know,” Eric fell back against the stall, furrowing his brow, “I knew your parents were weird about it, but I didn’t realize how shitty it really was. Then I started thinking about our deals in the past and I just… I don’t fucking know, it just felt wrong.”

Kyle raised an eyebrow, “Wrong how?”

“I mean, usually we’re on some kind of equal footing with that shit,” Eric rubbed the back of his neck, “You know something that could fuck me over, but you’re willing to let it go for the greater good or whatever-”

“That only happened like the one time,” Kyle interrupted, “What else are you thinking of-”

“Or you sign onto something because you want to prove me wrong. You should let me finish before you start complaining.”

Kyle rolled his eyes, “Okay, sure, but I thought this was the ultimate blackmail for you. Why just throw it away?”

“I guess,” Eric bit the inside of cheek, “It didn’t feel right. The more I started to think about it, how all of these shitty things were happening because of me and I… This sounds so stupid, but it made me feel kind of sick. Like, I could barely fall asleep because it was just eating at me, that I had fucked up by holding this over you.”

“That doesn't really sound like you,” Kyle sounded skeptical.

“Yeah, I know!” he exclaimed, “I thought- I think I’m just losing my goddamn mind here. Something good happened to you, and I started to realize that maybe I was… wrong?” Kyle stayed quiet, which only made Eric more on edge. “So, I called off the deal. Not for you, for me. I thought it would make me feel better, but somehow I feel worse, which is fucking stupid. I thought doing things that help people was supposed to make you feel good or whatever, why else would you do something that only screws yourself?!”

“You…” Kyle’s voice trailed off, still putting the points together. “You felt bad? For me?”

Eric sighed, Kyle’s ability to entirely miss the point starting to annoy him, “That’s all you got out of that?”

“No, it’s just… Cartman, that’s just basic fucking empathy,” he shook his head, “Are you trying to tell me that you’re calling it off because you feel guilty?”

“No!” Eric lied, ignoring how warm his face was feeling, “It’s just… I fucking hate this. Being you. It sucks.” He sounded exasperated as he started to break down, all of the thoughts that had been building up since Monday spilling out. “Your body is fucking awful. Your lower back is always fucking sore, I can hardly breath half the time, I’m like constantly paranoid that I’ve done something wrong. So, I get it now, and… I dunno, I felt bad about it.” 

It was a mediocre explanation, even Eric could admit that, but maybe… maybe it was a step in the right direction. Him and Kyle had a complicated relationship, to put it lightly. He’d done some stupid shit- some with good reason, and some not- so one drop in the bucket of what could be considered ‘good deeds’ wasn’t going to do much. But at the end of the day, they were friends they tolerated each other. And after years of their petty back and forth, he could say that he finally understood-

“Don’t say that,” Kyle’s voice was harsh, causing Eric to scowl at him, “You don’t get it.” His fists tightened, hands shaking slightly. “You’ve only been through this for four days. Try four months. Four years. Hell, try your whole fucking life knowing something, everything is wrong, and there’s so little you can do to change that. How people see you, how you see yourself.” Eric shouldn’t have been surprised as tears started to form in Kyle’s eyes once again. “I don’t even notice that shit half the time, I’m so fucking numb to it all.” Kyle’s voice broke. “My whole life, I’ve always been behind you guys. Always missing out on stuff, late to trends, but back then, I could always catch up. Lately, I… I feel like I just barely able reach you guys before you’ve already moved forward. Constantly playing catch up. And I know deep down… there’ll be a day when I just can’t follow anymore. No matter how hard I try, I’m always just… different.” He rubbed at his eyes, sniffling as cleared away the tear stains running down his cheeks. “I don’t care how bad you feel, Cartman. Don’t tell me that you get it now.”

Eric wasn’t a stranger to Kyle crying. Hell, he had been crying minutes ago. Part of him knew that if they had this conversation earlier in the week, Eric would have laughed and called him a pussy for being so emotional. And while the thought did cross his mind, the words died before he could even think about saying anything. Maybe it was the harshness in Kyle’s voice. Maybe it was the fact that he was right. That didn’t stop him from still feeling a bit defensive.

“Well, fuck me for trying to sympathize,” he snarked.

Kyle squeezed his eyes shut and groaned, “No, that’s not-”

“Fucking chill, dude, it’s fine,” Eric interrupted, feeling the tension start to fade, “Jesus christ, you’re so stressed. I wasn’t…” he sighed, trying to think of the right wording, “You’re right. I don’t get that part of it. I meant more, I know what I did was fucked up.”

Kyle looked him up and down, like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop. “That… sounds so weird coming from you.”

“How do you think it feels on my end?!” Eric exclaimed, scoffing as he let his legs drop from their position near his chest, “I know you guys like to joke that I’m a terrible person-” Kyle opened his mouth to interrupt, but with one glare from Eric, shut his mouth, allowing him to continue, “and that I don’t care about what other people think, but… I do. I don’t want to, because that’s fucking weak, but lately, it’s been harder and harder to not get upset when you guys treat me like shit. And now that the shoe’s on the other foot-”

“You see how your bullshit affects us,” Kyle finished, “That’s why you ran off.”

“And Kenny was going easy on us,” Eric sighed, “I don’t know if that makes it better or worse.”

“I’m leaning towards worse,” Kyle said, his voice dripping with honesty, which only brought back the feeling of Eric’s stomach twisting into knots.

“Fucking hell,” he grumbled, “No wonder you all hate me.”

“Cartman, we don’t-”

“Yeah you fucking do!” Eric snapped, “Don’t sugar coat it, I’m not stupid, alright?! You all tolerate me at best. I don’t even know why you guys still hang out with me.” His voice felt weak once the words left his mouth. God, he sounded like such a fucking pansy. And admitting this to Kyle of all people. How the mighty do fall.

Though, he wasn’t really that mighty to begin with.

Kyle didn’t answer right away, and Eric suddenly understood how Stan’s conversation with Kyle yesterday went as badly as it did. “I’ll admit,” Kyle said after a beat, “I’ve never been your biggest fan.” Eric scoffed at the understatement. “But that doesn’t mean that I don’t see you as a friend. I mean, the rest of us aren’t all that innocent either, dude. Half the school hates us.” Kyle laughed, and Eric couldn’t help but smile, thinking back on their stupid shenanigans over the years. “We’re annoying, and loud, and get in trouble all the fucking time. As much as it hurts me to admit, I do care about you Cartman. You may be an asshole, but… so are we.” Kyle pushed himself off the ground, and offered a hand to Eric. He was smiling, like actually smiling at him. For reasons he couldn’t explain, his heart jumped to his throat

“Thanks, Kyle,” he managed to squeak out as he took Kyle’s hand, and was pulled from the floor.

“You’re thanking me? You must be worse off than I thought.”

“Oh, fuck you, dude!” Eric playfully punched him in the shoulder, laughing to himself as they started to walk off. “I can be nice! I’m nice all the fucking time, just never to you.” His voice must have jumped an octave from how much he was trying to deflect, but if Kyle noticed, he didn’t say anything.

“Uh huh, I’m sure,” Kyle chuckled, patting him on the shoulder, “I think I’m gonna head off to class. You good to go?”

Eric almost agreed out of habit, but when he looked at Kyle, his heart racing, he grew a bit concerned. “I’ll be a minute, you can go ahead.”

“Suit yourself,” Kyle smiled at him one last time and walked to the door. He stopped in his tracks, hand lingering on the door handle, and he turned back to Eric, “I know I was on your ass for a bit there but… thank you, Cartman. For calling off the deal. I… I’m really grateful.”

Eric felt a warmth spread in his chest. “Don’t,” he cleared his throat, averting his gaze, “Don’t worry about it. Next time it’ll be something worth holding over you.”

Kyle snorted, “Yeah, yeah, whatever dude.” He shook his head as he opened the door and left the bathroom as Eric dared to look back where he was standing. The feeling in his chest didn’t fade. That coupled with his racing heart, he was probably still just worked up for his stupid fight with Wendy.

He wandered over to the sink, turning on the tap and splashed his face with the cold water. His mind was still stuck on Kyle, their conversation. There was no way in hell that he was right. Eric, empathetic towards Kyle of all people? Things were fucked up now but they hadn’t fallen into some kind of alternative universe. He was just… changing his mind on things. Yeah, that was it. Just altering his plan, given the circumstances as the body swap continued. And Kyle, the idiot he was, had fallen right into his trap.

Because if Kyle was right…

He looked up at his face in the mirror, Kyle’s face staring back at him, scowling, droplets of water dripping off his jawline. 

No, of course Kyle was wrong, Eric thought as he relaxed his face. Kyle was too blinded by his own anxieties, too paranoid. 

He grabbed a paper towel, drying his face off as best he could. So many shitty things had happened lately that Eric had no choice but to feel bad. So, his thoughts were just saturated with feeling bad for Kyle right now. If he thought hard enough, there were plenty of other things that came to mind when it came to Kyle. How stubborn he was, how annoying, and his dumb, stupid face.

Meeting his eyes in the mirror, that weird feeling washed over him once again. 

Okay, maybe that was a little harsh, his face wasn’t that stupid. Or maybe it didn’t seem as stupid anymore, given how much he’s had to look at it. Not that he was ever really looking. It was still kind of… uncanny, to not see his own face. When you look at the same thing for so long, anything different takes some adjusting. And he definitely wasn’t used to seeing Kyle’s face.

Looking at it now, he was noticing things he’d never processed before. There were darker flecks of green in his eyes that gave them more dimension, his lightly faded freckles that were sure to come back with a vengeance in the summer, and the fact that he had basically no eye bags despite Eric’s last few restless nights.

He tossed the paper towel in the trash, acutely aware that the tap was still running, and brought a hand to his face, slowly tracing it along Kyle’s jawline. He had more or less grown out of his baby face- which Eric was slightly jealous of- but there was still a softness to it, a few years before he’d really grew into his features. And testosterone would only enforce that look. More angled, sharper.

His finger lightly brushed his bottom lip, almost subconsciously. Have Kyle’s lips always been this soft? He hadn’t really taken the time to notice. He thought back to that look Kyle had given him right before he left, the vision slowly morphing as Eric started to picture that look not as Stan, but with Kyle’s own features. No anger, no annoyance, which was a rarity when interacting with Kyle.

There were small times where Eric would see him smile for real, the one that crinkled his eyes before he would start laughing. That and his sad, sappy smile that was always dripping with his unrequited longing. Those looks were never directed at him though. Never him.

Once again, his eyes drifted back to his reflection, his thumb still resting on his lower lip. Stan was one lucky bastard, he thought to himself, getting to hang out with Kyle so much, all that attention from him. The two spent almost all their free time together, as much as they could. It was kind of annoying, how inseparable those two were, how- even with the body swap- they still managed to leave Eric out.

Not that he was jealous of Stan, though. God, no. He was just… lonely. If the group wasn’t hanging out together, then he would just be alone. Sure, sometimes Kenny would come over, but he knew that asshole would hang out with the others one on one as well, so it felt more like pity than anything.

Honestly, he wouldn’t hate it if Kyle would come over on his own. They could hang in the basement, playing one of the many video games Eric had collected over the years. Kyle would complain that he was cheating- ever so competitive- and Eric would argue it was just skill, and it wasn’t his fault that Kyle had poor hand-eye coordination. Kyle would call him a dick, and resort to trying to distract Eric for any hopes of winning. It would work, and Eric would say something about just letting him win. Kyle would laugh, saying how much he doubted it, his hand sliding closer to his own.

Even just the thought of Kyle putting his hand on his made Eric’s stomach flutter. Their fingers intertwined. 

Kyle’s eyes would meet his own, so warm, inviting. He’d lean forward, Kyle’s soft lips meeting Eric’s and-

Snapping his eyes wide open, Eric slapped himself hard across his face. His blood ran cold, taking in sharp breaths as the stinging on his cheek suddenly grounded himself back in the bathroom. The sound of the facet drowned out by the racing of his heart.

What the fuck was that? Did he just- Why did he just…

With panic building in his gut, he splashed his face with water once more, hoping the cold temperature would snap some sense into him. But just catching a glance of himself in the mirror caused the mental image to bubble back to the surface.

He squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head as he brought his hands to his scalp, digging his fingers in, like that might be able to pull the thought from his mind.

What the fuck was going on with him?? What the fuck has Kyle done to him? Is this what doing nice things for people does?? Was this Kyle’s plan the whole time? String Eric along with agreeing to his deal, playing by his terms just to corrupt his thoughts with weird, gay fantasies?!?

Not wanting to be surrounded by mirrors anymore, Eric power-walked out of the bathroom, doing his best to ignore his trembling hands.

There had to be some way to undo this, to make him stop imagining things about Kyle, but every attempt to straighten out his thoughts all quickly morphed into Kyle, laughing, smiling. He would have screamed if he wasn’t in public.

His body was tense as he maneuvered around the halls, trying to make his way to the gym. He felt that if anyone even so much as grazed his skin he would combust. It was awful. 

It took him ten times longer to get ready for gym. For some reason, it was harder to change clothes when you kept your eyes shut because you were worried about seeing your kind-of-friend-kind-of-mortal-enemy’s body. God, who could have guessed that would be the case. Not Eric, who was definitely for sure not having weird gay thoughts about Kyle. Why would anyone suggest that??

At the very least, he was able to distract himself with class. They had- fucking finally- gotten to the end of the volleyball unit, so the “exam” of sorts was just more matches of randomly assigned teams. Him and Kenny ended up on the same team, which was fine by Eric, until he realized he was going against Kyle.

If he hadn’t been distracted before, it was even worse now. It didn't help that he was still ass at the game, and his peers yelling at him to pull it together could only do so much to unshaken his nerves. Even Kenny could tell that something was up. Unfortunately for Eric, Kenny did have a sense of self preservation and chose to not bring it up in front of everyone. Eric would have been grateful, but given the fact that he couldn’t stop his hands from trembling whenever he was left alone to his thoughts, he would have much rather Kenny say something, anything, even a fucking hello would do.

His team lost their game- to no one's surprise- which meant they got to spend the rest of class on the bleachers watching everyone else play. The teacher blew the whistle, and it took a few seconds for Eric’s legs to respond, finally moving off the court as he watched Kenny run up to Kyle. He was probably apologizing for his little stunt, but judging from Kyle’s looks, it was water under the bridge at this point.

Guess he bounced back fast, Eric thought to himself as he dragged himself to the bleachers, his eyes locked on the pair. Kenny had been so pissy about being compared to Eric earlier, maybe he finally realized that being stuck in his body wasn’t the worst straw to draw. Honestly, he was really starting to prove himself up for the job, basically saying lines straight from Eric’s own mind-

Wait.

That was it. 

That was why his thoughts had been corrupted. They had been swapped for so long that their voices- their thoughts - were starting to change.

It had to be the only explanation. 

God, he needed to talk to someone about this. Stan might understand, but he would start acting like a jealous bitch if Eric even began to explain his reasoning, so he was out. Kyle… was a nonstarter. He didn’t hate himself that much. Which left Kenny, who would be the easiest to talk to, but if the past few days proved nothing else, it was that Kenny was over his bullshit.

Oh well, what other options did he have? Butters?

Sucks to suck, cause he wasn’t even here today.

Almost like divine intervention, Kenny made his way over to the bleachers sitting not too far away from him as the next match began. Eric slowly scooched down the row, getting as close as he could without being noticed. He managed to get right next to him, Kenny oblivious as ever, paying attention as Kyle and Stan’s teams started a volley.

Making sure no one was looking his way, Eric grabbed Kenny by his shirt, dragging him around the corner and underneath the bleachers. He yelped in protest, but didn’t fight back until they were out of sight, Kenny shoving himself away as he scowled in Eric’s direction.

“Okay, if this is about the fight, I was just making sure you didn’t get yourself killed,” he exclaimed in a hushed tone, in case their voices would travel to the students sitting above them. It was the first time Eric was grateful their gym teacher played shitty pop music during class.

“No, this is way worse,” Eric shook his head, wrapping his arms around his chest, “I’m going fucking crazy, dude.”

Kenny stared at him blankly. “And this is a new development?”

“I’m not fucking around here!” Eric felt the desperation slip into his voice as he grabbed Kenny by the collar of his shirt, pulling him down slightly to his level. “Everything’s changed now and you’re the only one who will actually listen to me!”

“What? Everything’s…” Kenny just scowled at him in confusion, “Is this about why you bolted out of the cafeteria?”

“No!” Eric’s stomach turned, “Well, kind of. But also not really! It’s bigger than that!”

Kenny pried himself away from Eric, and he hoped the guy would see to reason. “Well then, what is it, Cartman?” he asked.

“I think being in Kyle’s body is turning me gay!” Eric exclaimed.

The concern that had begun to slip onto Kenny’s face quickly fell, now replaced with what Eric could only describe as disappointment. “I… I can’t even begin to tell you how that’s not how that works.”

“Since when have you been the fucking expert?!” Eric questioned.

“ You came to me for help! Don’t get pissed cause I’m being honest!” Kenny argued back, “Also, and maybe more importantly, how the fuck is just being in Kyle’s body making you gay?”

“I don’t know!” Eric answered, crossing his arms, “But it’s his fucking fault! Because he’s such a pussy and his life is fucking awful, so now I feel bad for him , which is it’s own issue, and paired with him not telling Stan that he likes him, so now I’m the one who has to talk to him about stuff, and be nice to him or whatever, and spend more time with him, which makes me feel even worse, and then he’s planted the idea of me kissing him in my brain and I just-”

“Woah, woah, pump the brakes,” Kenny interrupted, “Rewind a bit for me. You’re doing what?”

Eric blinked, “I’m being nice to him?”

“Okay, that’s weird too, but not that,” Kenny shook his head, “The other thing. You’ve thought about kissing Kyle?”

Eric felt his face grow hot, and as much as he hated to admit it out loud, it was the only way to convince Kenny. At least, he hoped it would. “I… may have possibly… imagined it. More than once.”

There was a beat before Kenny burst out into laughter, wheezing as Eric felt his face burnt even brighter red.

“This is not funny, Kenny!” He yelled as quietly as he could, not wanting the people sitting above them to hear.

“No, no, it’s fucking hilarious,” Kenny wiped a tear from his eye, but continued laughing.

Eric felt his arms tense up at his sides. “Don’t you realize the implications of this?! It’s this stupid body swap! We’ve been each other for too long. I mean, look at Kyle! I know we’ve all moved past it now, but he was already acting more like Stan by Wednesday! Now your impression of me has gotten better, and my thoughts are turning gay!”

Kenny managed to get control of his laughter, looking at Eric like he’d grown a second head, “I’m sorry, you think you liking Kyle is because of the body swap?”

“I didn’t fucking say that I liked him, okay!?” Eric snapped, “I don’t… I don’t fucking know! Don’t put words in my mouth, McCormick! Where the fuck would you get that idea?”

“Cartman, you’ve been obsessed with him since we were kids,” Kenny pointed out, “Like, if anything, I’m surprised that it took this long for gay thoughts to manifest.”

Eric scoffed, “I’m not obsessed , alright? He is my mortal enemy, I hate him.”

“Okay, sure, but you have a weird way of showing it,” Kenny crossed his arms, “I mean, and I’m just thinking off the top of my head, you remember when Nicole moved here, and you pretended to be Kyle’s boyfriend so that she would date Tolkien?”

“Well yeah,” Eric shrugged, “Cause Tolkien and Nicole should have gotten together, what do I have to do with this?”

Kenny sighed heavily, “Because you dragged yourself into it for no fucking reason. You could have said that Kyle was gay and leave it at that, or that he was dating Stan, or literally any other guy in school, but no! It had to be you.”

“That’s just,” Eric felt his throat dry up, “That’s just one example-”

“You have the video of you serenading him over the jumbotron saved on your phone!”

“Cause it was funny!”

“Sure, dude,” Kenny had quickly gone from entertained to frustrated, “What about that bet you made that if Kyle lost he’d have to suck your balls?”

“Fucker needed to learn his lesson about not believing me!” Eric argued, ignoring his stomach twisting with fear, “And he’s the one who signed the deal, so if anything-”

“He only wanted ten bucks!” Kenny interrupted, “We all thought it was funny at first cause Kyle was acting insufferable, but then you kept pushing, you threw a party to fucking celebrate, and when he wouldn’t do it, you jumped through every fucking hoop to see that he’d have to. You took him to court over it! But no, you’re right, tell me how that was just your platonic hatred for him.”

Eric didn’t like how quickly the tides were shifting, “Well, if there’s only isolated incidents-”

“What about the time Kyle caught you watching him while he was asleep?” Kenny raised an eyebrow.

Face growing warm, Eric sputtered, “That wasn’t-”

“Or those gross drawings of him in your journal?”

His stomach turned again. “That’s fucking private-”

“Oh and don’t get me started about that picture of you with Butters’ dick in your-”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Eric felt his face go pale, “I’ve done my time for that, that doesn’t count!”

“Was gay then, still gay now, dude,” Kenny put his hands up, “Come on, Cartman. Just think about it for a second. You said this started because you’ve been nice to Kyle. If you guys are patching up your relationship, then I can see why you might-”

“You’re not listening to me!” Eric cut him off, “Sure, I did all of that stuff, you got me there, but that doesn’t mean that I like Kyle, okay?! I can’t stand him! He’s so neurotic, and do-goody, and fucking annoying, why the hell would I ever want to be with him?!”

Kenny forced down a smile, “I thought this was just about kissing him?”

It was like a punch to the gut. He hadn’t meant to say that. He… why the hell was he saying all this dumb shit lately?!

No, no, Kenny was just getting in his head, turning his thoughts against him. All those things that happened, he was just taking it out of context, pushing his narrative, his fucking gay agenda, to humiliate Eric.

“If you think about it,” Kenny continued, “if it really was being in Kyle’s body that’s making you gay, wouldn’t you be crushing on Stan and not Kyle?”

Whatever argument Eric had begun to build up crumbled into a million pieces. As much as he wanted to just say that logic was flawed, it was his own damn logic. And even if he agreed, saying that he’d only started having these thoughts now, with Kyle in Stan’s body, then why wasn't Stan's face the one burned into his mind? Why had he imagined himself kissing Kyle?

Eric’s knees buckled and he dropped to the floor.

It crashed down on him, a wave of impending doom. The reason he had let up on the deal so quickly, the weird feeling when Kyle had been nice to him. All of it was pointing him in this direction, and he’d just been too clueless to figure it out.

Things were worse than he had initially thought.

He didn’t just feel bad for Kyle.

He was gay… for Kyle .

Oh fuck .

Chapter Text

Kenny looked down at Cartman, in what he could only describe as a panic attack, and couldn’t help but wonder where the fuck his life had gone wrong. Had he done anything in particular to have to deal with this? After the day he’s had? Why now? Why here? Why Cartman ?

He knew his frustrations were nothing compared to the cosmic shock Cartman was currently going through, but he didn’t even feel that bad about it anymore. Honestly, he was legit still worried that Cartman had never connected the pieces on his own until now.

It’s not like Kenny himself hadn’t been in the same boat. That weird, guilty panic that would run through his veins when he thought about kissing a boy. The years of gay jokes didn’t just go away because they were gay now. Well not gay, but whatever, it’s an umbrella term anyway. However, unlike Cartman, Kenny had time to process his feelings over the summer, and Cartman was having to speed run all that during fifth period gym, underneath the bleachers as the rest of their peers played volleyball 20 feet away.

All that being said, Kenny couldn't help but feel like Cartman was overreacting for the sake of it.

“Are you done?” he asked after a few minutes had passed, and Cartman was still on the floor. He wasn’t hyperventilating anymore, thank god, but his eyes were still wide, staring off in the middle distance.

“I’m in hell,” Cartman mumbled, “I’ve died and gone to hell.”

“Jesus christ, being gay isn’t that bad,” Kenny shook his head, “I mean, Kyle’s not my type so I can’t say I get it but-”

This only seemed to piss Cartman off more, making him finally get off his ass again to point a finger in Kenny’s face. “Stop saying that! I am not gay, okay?! I like girls, unlike the rest of you fags!”

“Okay,” Kenny groaned, making a face, “You know, saying slurs isn’t going to make you feel any better. And to make myself clear, just because you like Kyle doesn’t mean you can’t like girls, alright? It’s a spectrum-”

“Oh fuck you!” he interrupted, “I don’t want the goddamn pamphlet, alright?! I don’t want the list of twelve hundred different fucking labels I could give myself, because it’s made up bullshit!”

Kenny bit back a smirk, “There’s actual a term if you don’t want to use the labels-”

“Shut the fuck up!” Cartman’s voice got dangerously loud, but was thankfully timed with the gym teacher’s whistle blowing, and the students clapping as the match ended, and the ball changed sides.

Kenny sighed heavily, putting a hand on his shoulder, “Cartman, I get why you’re freaking out, but this doesn’t mean you’re a whole new person, alright? I’ll still hate you all the same.” Cartman scowled at the joke, but Kenny kept going, “Seriously though, I get it. It’s… kind of scary. I think all of us would agree with that.”

“I’m not scared,” Cartman scoffed, crossing his arms, “Why the fuck would I be scared? Kyle’s just… an outlier.”

“Whatever, man,” Kenny rolled his eyes, “It’s your journey, I guess.” Before he could say more pseudo-motivation bullshit to annoy Cartman, his hand shifted slightly on his shoulder and he felt something he hadn’t before. A weird textured fabric underneath Cartman’s gym shirt. “What the hell are you wearing, dude?” he asked, moving his hand to pull the collar of the shirt over, but Cartman was quick to shove himself away from Kenny, a new worry settling on his face.

“It’s nothing,” he tried to brush off, “I’m just gonna… thanks for nothing, Kenny,” and he turned on his heels to walk off.

“What, no, dude wait,” Kenny rushed after him, but the pair didn’t make it far. Still underneath the bleachers, Kenny took a step much closer to Cartman than he anticipated, accidentally stepping on the back of Cartman’s shoe. Suddenly off balance, Cartman tripped, and fell forward, landing face first on the gym floor with a sharp thud. Kenny tensed up at the noise, wincing in sympathy, “Shit, sorry!” he quickly apologized, frozen slightly as he knew he would get yelled at if he tried to help, “I swear that it was an accid-”

His voice got stuck in his throat as his eyes trailed down Cartman’s body. The swiftness of the fall had caused the gym shirt to shift, and Kenny could now see the odd garment he had felt underneath it. It was beige, some sort of stretchy spandex material, that seemed to only cover the upper part of his body.

The pause in his voice must have alerted Cartman in some way, and he quickly rolled himself around. He pulled the shirt down, which meant that Kenny could now more clearly see the collar of it, lower than the collar of any normal shirt. “Stop staring you perv!” Cartman exclaimed, but he sounded more scared than pissed off.

“I…” Kenny was still at a loss for words. He didn’t completely understand the situation, and the more concerned Cartman looked, the more confused Kenny became. He racked his mind, trying to think of what he was even wearing, what the material and specific cut could mean, with the underlying worry that Cartman was making this body swap more complicated than it already is. It didn’t take him very long to stumble upon the answer. 

“Why,” he tried to broach the question calmly, “Why the fuck are you wearing a chest binder?”

Cartman was growing paler by the minute. “I don’t-” he tried to laugh it off, but the shakiness in his voice was undeniable, “I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”

Kenny frowned, “Whatever the hell you’re wearing underneath your shirt. It’s a binder, I’m not that stupid, Cartman.” 

“Coulda fooled me.” Even his jokes didn’t feel secure. 

But Kenny was still confused. What the fuck did Cartman have to gain out of wearing stuff like that in Kyle’s body? Why was he so worried about this after his weird ass confession of his feelings for Kyle moments ago? Why would he be so scared of Kenny seeing it if he was only doing for-

It slowly dawned on him, and he realized he really was that stupid. Cartman wasn’t doing it for himself, but rather for Kyle. “Oh my god,” he muttered, “Kyle’s trans-”

Cartman’s hand was over his mouth in a matter of seconds, launching himself off the floor at a speed Kenny wasn’t expecting, breathing heavily as his eyes met Kenny’s. He looked utterly terrified. And suddenly it all made sense. The way Kyle let Cartman push him around earlier in the week, why he had dragged him away from the group right after the swap, the way Cartman acted so physically uncomfortable, all of the tension between the two was because Cartman knew something no one else did. The realization caused a wave of dread wash over him.

It didn’t take much effort to move Cartman’s hand from his mouth. “You…” Kenny shook his head, “You’ve been holding this over him, haven’t you?”

Cartman scowled, eyes darting away, “I’m not anymore.”

Kenny laughed sharply, “I’m sorry, is that supposed to make me less pissed at you? What the hell do you mean?”

“Oh god dammit,” Cartman grumbled under his breath, pinching the bridge of his nose, “I just went over this less than an hour ago. Look, long story short, I was more or less blackmailing Kyle, then I felt-” He made another face of disgust, “Guilty. So now, I’m not telling anyone. Or at least, I wasn’t going to tell anyone. Way to ruin it, Kenny.”

“How was I supposed to-” Kenny stopped himself, not sure if he should be more upset over Cartman blackmailing Kyle, or him trying to blame Kenny himself for finding out. “Okay, you know what? Fine. Blame me, if it makes you feel better for holding a part of Kyle’s identity over him for days- ”

“Oh fuck you,” Cartman cut him off, “You’re acting like this is worse thing I could have done. I mean, I coulda brought it up the second we got switched, but no! I waited till I could confront Kyle about it because I have some fucking respect!”

“Respect?” Kenny repeated, unable to hold back a laugh, “Is that what this? Realizing you have a crush on the guy whose body you’re in and releasing him from a deal you threatened him with? Who do you think you’re fooling?”

“WILL YOU STOP SAYING THAT GAY SH-” Cartman began to yell, cutting himself off, thankfully realizing that screaming in Kenny’s face wasn’t going to change anything. “Godammit,” he grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest in defeat, “Just… don’t tell Kyle you know him, alright?”

Kenny scowled, scrutinizing Cartman as he thought over his request. Maybe he had been too harsh on the guy. Despite how he had acted just moments ago, Cartman seemed… legitimately guilty about it. He wouldn't meet Kenny’s gaze, and the way he was holding himself was the same as it was this morning, shoulders hunched as he tried to make himself smaller. Kenny had never seen Cartman like this, actually remorseful about his actions.

“Of course I won’t,” Kenny answered, sighing as he reined in all the snarky comments that had been prepped and ready.

The tension started to release from Cartman’s shoulders at Kenny’s answer. “Good.”

There was a loud cheer from the crowd on the bleachers, reminding the two of them that they weren’t exactly alone. He looked through the cracks in between the different levels of the risers, trying to catch a glimpse of the game. It looked like the same teams as when Cartman had dragged him away. God, how long had they been down here? 

Kenny looked back at Cartman, his blood simmering once again just thinking about what had just happened. Part of him was glad that it had only gone this far, that Cartman didn’t have some overarching goal to humiliate Kyle even more than he had these past couple of days, but that didn’t make Kenny feel less gross about being pulled into it now. He didn’t even want to think about the bullshit that must have been spewing in Cartman’s mind, given the fucked up shit he would say to Kyle’s face. Even dipping his toe into that rabbit hole presented a much more unfortunate thought.

“Is that why you keep insisting you’re not gay?” Kenny asked, hating the fact that this was something he had to clarify, “Are you being that much of an asshole that-”

Cartman laughed, cutting off his tangent. “Oh wow , Kenny. Some ally you are,” he smirked.

“Don’t.” Kenny warned, “I’m the one getting into your headspace, what excuse do you have?”

His smug look quickly faded. “Jackass,” Cartman muttered under his breath, “And for your information, no, that’s not it. You said it yourself, all that shit I did when we were younger, I did when I still thought he was a guy-” 

“He is a guy.”

“You know what I mean!” Cartman snapped, “It’s fucking complicated, alright?!”

“I’m not saying that it isn’t,” Kenny sighed, “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want your fucking pity!” Cartman’s head whipped over to lock eyes with Kenny, “I just want you to keep your mouth shut. If either Stan or Kyle finds out about my-” he groaned in frustration, "my feelings, I swear to god-"

“Jesus Christ, I get it dude, my lips are sealed,” Kenny put his hands up in defeat, “Be mad all you want, don’t take it out on me for making you connect the dots.”

Cartman huffed, hands curled into fists, but said nothing else, leaving Kenny standing under the bleachers all alone.

Well that was productive, he thought, running his hands through his hair as let out an exasperated breath. The whistle sounded again, and Kenny decided he much rather watch the game than be alone with his thoughts.

His eyes locked on Kyle the second he rounded the corner, and took a seat on the edge of the first row. There was a pep in Kyle’s step, a light behind his eyes that Kenny hadn’t seen in a while. It made more sense now, given what he had learned from Cartman. He couldn’t begin to imagine how this must have been weighing on him, the anxiety of Cartman outing him just because he didn’t do a few favors. It made Kenny slightly regret promising that he wouldn’t say anything. He wanted to talk to Kyle about it, mostly just reassure him that it didn’t change shit, that he had Kenny’s unwavering support. Kyle was still his friend, it was who he was now that mattered. But there was a high chance that maybe saying anything would just freak Kyle out more.

Kyle coming out as gay was one thing. They all had been joking about it and suspecting it for a while, but Kyle being trans… Kenny would admit that he was shocked. Kyle deserved massive props for how well he had been able to keep it under wraps. But that in itself was kind of depressing. Kyle had gotten so good at hiding who he was that had Kenny not seen the binder, he would still be in the dark.

It had to be isolating. To his knowledge, there weren’t other trans kids at South Park Middle School. Kenny, Stan, and Cartman, they should have been the people he could trust with that secret… but he didn’t.

In a way, Kenny could relate. Even down to Cartman being the only one who knew and was an asshole about it. Though, being trans and being immortal probably wasn’t the best comparison.

He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts as he watched the match. Regardless of what he thought, there wasn’t much he could do, other than wait for Kyle to tell Kenny himself. However long that took.

The whistle blew again, and the teams swapped out for what he hoped was the last time. This class was going on for far too long. After briefly celebrating with his teammates, Kyle finally caught Kenny’s eye, raising an eyebrow as if to ask if everything was alright. Kenny nodded, flashing him a quick thumbs up. Kyle quickly understood, returning Kenny’s nod before following the rest of his teams as they swapped sides of the court. 

Kenny must have looked as conflicted as he felt on the inside, he thought to himself. He still wasn’t entirely used to people reading him so well. The comfort of having the hood up all the time has its downsides, but one of its perks was that Kenny’s reactions tended to fly under the radar unless he said something.

He tried to force himself to chill out as he caught Stan approaching his spot in his peripheral vision.

“Dude, that fucking sucked,” Stan complained, basically collapsing onto the space next to Kenny, “Did you see that shit?”

“Uh,” Kenny’s throat went dry, “Got caught up in conversation,” not technically a lie, but he still didn’t feel great about it, “What happened?”

“I had the ball spiked onto my head like three times!” Stan exclaimed, “Like, it was never purposeful, but it still hurts like hell.” He felt the top of his head, flinching as his fingers just barely grazed his scalp. “Is there like a target on the top of my head or something?”

Kenny’s blood pressure spiked for what must have been the third time today. He had been so caught up in Cartman’s bullshit he forgot about his own.

“God, all that paired with that ceiling light from the other day,” Stan scowled, “If I didn’t know any better I would say the universe wanted to decapitate me.”

Subconsciously, Kenny’s hand drifted up to his neck. A lot of his deaths all blurred together but he couldn’t quite remember if he’d ever been decapitated before. He’d been shot in the head on multiple occasions, been asphyxiated a few times, but no classic losing his head that he could think of.

“Yeah, that’s,” Kenny swallowed hard, “That’s a weird coincidence.”

“You’re telling me,” Stan grumbled, shaking his head in disbelief, “Didn’t realize how unlucky you are.”

Kenny let out a painful laugh. Yeah, unlucky, that’s for sure what it was. Before Stan could stumble into the real answer, Kenny stood from the bleachers, “I’m gonna go get some water.”

“Oh, okay,” Stan shrugged, then laughed to himself, “Don’t drown.”

Kenny’s jaw tensed, his teeth grinding together as he bit back some retort along the lines of ‘Can’t promise that.’ God, they needed to fucking fix this or else Kenny might just kill Stan himself. 

He made a quick pace walking across the gym and back to the hallway that led to locker rooms, where the closest water fountain that he could think of was. The doors to the gym closed loudly behind him, and Kenny exhaled, feeling like he could decompress without everyone else around. He walked over to the water fountain, taking in a long drink of water as he tried to rearrange his thoughts back to some kind of game plan. 

Cartman panicking about being gay was funny, but ultimately was distracting him from the real issues at hand. Butters was still AWOL, and even with Cartman not cooperating with them, they still no solid plan on what exactly they were going to tell the teachers. Not that it should be too complicated, but there were a few details that Kenny would like for them to leave out, namely him egging Cartman on, causing them to get swapped in the first place. That didn't look too great in his favor.

He barely had time to recuperate his thoughts before someone with a particularly strong grip pulled him away from the water fountain. This needed to stop happening, he thought as he tried to regain his footing.

“If you guys keep pulling me away for secret conversations, I’m gonna fucking lose-” Kenny’s voice faltered as he turned around and came face to face with Wendy. “Oh shit,” he muttered, before clearing his throat, “Wendy, hey. Look, if you want to slap me again-”

“I don’t, at least, not yet,” she crossed her arms, “I just want to talk.”

“You and fucking everybody today,” Kenny grumbled under his breath, worried he was gonna pop a blood vessel at this point. “What about?” he asked, exasperated.

She raised an eyebrow, but whatever concerns she had, she wiped away quickly with a shake of her head. “Look, I know I’m just going to sound like a broken record, but none of you have really answered my question, so it bears repeating. What the hell is going on with Stan and Kyle?”

Kenny sighed heavily. Just what he needed right now, this goddamn conversation again. ‘“Look, Wendy,” he started to explain, “It’s not really my place- It’s complicated-”

“Yeah, no shit,” She cut him off, “You act as if I haven’t known either of them as long as I have. I’m used to their bullshit, but this is different. You have to see that.”

“I-” Kenny really wasn’t expecting this, “I mean, yeah, it is but-”

“Exactly, so you can see why I’m concerned, right?” She interrupted again.

“Sure, but,” Kenny swallowed hard, thinking over his words carefully, “You really don’t want to drag yourself into this, okay? It’s not worth it.”

“I’m not trying to drag myself into anything!” Wendy exclaimed. She didn’t sound like she believed herself, but Kenny was too scared of her to want to say anything about it. “I may not be dating him, but I still care about Stan. And I don’t want to just believe that rumor Bebe is trying to spread, but trying to get any answers from Kyle has been like pulling teeth.”

“It’s not like that normally?” Kenny asked as monotone as he could muster, hoping that acting uninterested would mean he could leave this conversation faster.

“I just don’t know what’s up with him!” She exclaimed, beginning to pace, “He’s treating me like I’m some sort of villain, when I’ve just been trying to talk to him. It’s ridiculous! Like, the fact that I have to ask you,” she stopped to gesture at him dramatically, “Just goes to show how weird this fucking is."

"I mean, you don't have to ask me," Kenny pointed out, but went ignored as Wendy continued.

"He’s been so pissed off, and acting like a dick, and normally I think I know why, but I’m so stumped. And after the way he treated me during lunch, I swear to god, he’s starting to act more like-” she stopped herself, her eyes narrowing before she turned back to Kenny, “Like you .”

Kenny’s blood ran cold. Oh shit, no no no, he needed to steer this conversation into a different direction right away. “I wouldn’t quite say that.”

“No, he is,” Wendy sounded more confident, starting to walk closer to him, “Calling me a nosey bitch, talking about my relationship with Stan, that’s the kind of stuff you normally say to me. “ Kenny felt his mouth go dry, but Wendy wasn’t finished. “You’ve honestly been holding back this week.”

He felt himself begin to sweat in panic, slowly backing up, “I’ve been under the weather-”

“It’s not just him, though. You all have been acting weird lately,” she pointed her finger at him accusatorially, and Kenny felt his back hit the wall, “Kyle’s been pissed off and suspicious, Stan’s suddenly taken an interest in Kenny, hanging out him more than he ever has, and you’ve become some kind of moderator for the three of them. You’re all acting off. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you all…” Her voice trailed off, and Kenny could hear his heart beat ringing in his ears.

There had to be something he could say, something he could do to throw her off the scent

But it was too late for any of that.

“You’re… you’re not Cartman, are you?” She asked, narrowing her eyes.

Kenny blinked, knowing regardless of how he answered, he was fucked. If he denied her claims, who’s to say that she would even believe him. But if he confirmed her suspicions… Well, maybe then he could at least clear things up. It’s not like she wouldn’t believe him, given she’s the one suggesting it herself.

With a heavy sigh, Kenny shook his head. There was a beat, perhaps some kind of process of elimination before she spoke again. “Kenny?” Wendy asked, skeptical of herself as she met his eyes, looking for some kind of recognition.

“Guess I wasn’t that slick, huh?” He joked, dropping his lame attempt to sound like Cartman.

“Oh my-” Wendy clasped a hand over her mouth, somehow more shocked than before, and took several steps back. “Holy shit,” she muttered, “That was just a shot in the dark I didn’t think- I mean, I guess I did but, I thought I was just losing it.”

“Fortunately no,” Kenny ran a hand through his hair, “You’re spot on.”

She frowned, “God, even your voice-”

“Yeah, no, that’s been a fun learning curve,” he put up weak jazz hands, “Welcome to the party.”

Wendy looked puzzled, still thrown for a loop despite the fact that she was the one to put the pieces together. She made an attempt to compose herself, but Kenny could tell she was still lost. “Okay, okay. So I was right then, Kyle’s acting like- or I guess it’s not Kyle-”

“Yeah, no, Cartman’s in Kyle’s body,” Kenny confirmed, “You got the general idea.”

“Right,” Wendy eyebrows creased in thought, “So then, is… is Kyle in Stan’s body?”

“Yep,” Kenny nodded, “Stan’s in mine, it’s a fun little game of musical chairs.”

“You sound pretty cavalier about the whole thing,” Wendy noted.

Kenny laughed sharply, “Oh trust me, this is just the cherry on top of the fucking cake this week has been. You have no idea.” 

She shook her head in disbelief, “How… How did this even happen? When did this happen?”

“Monday, during the field trip, cause of that electron swappy thing from Mephesto’s lab,” Kenny answered, figuring there was no point in lying to her anymore, “Cartman started crawling up the cage, kicked some levers, and when we went to pull him off, we all got shocked and woke up in the wrong body.”

“Electron swappy… You mean the Electron Swap and Transfer Device?" Wendy questioned in a condescending tone, narrowing her gaze, "The main exhibit in a room full of machines that haven’t ever been tested properly before?”

Kenny should have expected this kind of judgement from Wendy, even though he refrained from telling her he was the one who had dared Cartman to climb the damn thing. “It was an accident, alright?!” he said defensively, “It’s not like we haven’t learned our lesson anyway. We might get stuck like this forever if we don’t do something soon.”

Wendy’s judgemental attitude dropped in a snap, her eyes filled with panic, “What do you mean?”

“Mephesto had this meeting with Mackey and the principals, saying that if we didn’t act fast, we could get stuck like this. He doesn’t know how long it’s supposed to last before it becomes permanent,” Kenny explained, “We were gonna turn ourselves in yesterday, but then some personal shit happened so that plan went out the window, and now Cartman’s not working with us, so it’s been rough.”

“It’s so weird to hear you say Cartman like you aren’t… never mind,” Wendy rambled quietly to herself, “So, that personal stuff, is that why Stan- I mean, why Kyle was acting like-”

“It wasn't an act,” Kenny interrupted, turning somber, “I don’t… I don’t know the full story,” but he could at least guess now, thanks to Cartman. Given Kyle’s hesitancy to repeat what Randy had said to him, he would put money on it being related to him being trans. “We all were a little harsh with him, it didn’t help with the rumors.”

“I’ll say,” Wendy sighed, “Have you been hearing the shit people are saying?” Kenny shook his head. “It was kind of chill at first, Bebe was convinced they snuck off to hook up during the field trip, which didn’t really catch on, but then there was all that stuff about them getting into some sort of fight, and after yesterday…” her voice trailed off, “Those kind of combined and I think most of the grade is convinced either Kyle or Stan confessed and it went wrong.”

That fucking tracks, Kenny thought, rubbing his temples, “Of course. Still, bold of our classmates to think either one of them has the balls to confess.”

“That’s why I wanted to talk with Kyle,” Wendy explained, fidgeting with her hands, “I figured there was some sort of miscommunication, and because I know both of them, I thought an outside perspective would help.”

“And then Cartman kept blowing you off,” Kenny finished the train of thought, “I’m surprised that you didn’t throw hands any sooner.”

“Everyone has bad days, I didn’t want to make any assumptions,” Wendy shrugged, “But then it seemed like everyday he was a mess, what else was I supposed to think?”

“No, no, I get it,” Kenny said, “He’s being a pain in the ass for the rest of us, too. We want to own up to the whole swap thing to change back, and he’s been fighting us the whole fucking way.”

Wendy paused, brow creased in thought, “Wait, so you haven’t told the teachers yet?”

Kenny raised an eyebrow, “No, not yet. Why?”

“Oh shit,” her voice was low, “I might have- oh fuck, I might have snitched on you guys.”

Kenny’s stomach dropped, “What do you mean?”

“Okay, in my defense, this was before I knew you all were... switched up,” she started wringing her hands, unable to meet Kenny’s gaze, “Mackey had asked me to keep an eye on students that were acting… off. He said that they were trying to crack down on something that happened during the field trip. I thought… I thought maybe someone had broken something, or stolen something, I didn’t quite understand why he needed my help. But then Kyle- fuck, I mean Cartman told me that I didn’t need to worry about him and Stan, and I started to think maybe that was why he’d been so weird. And then he blew up on me during lunch and so… I went to Mackey.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Kenny shook his head, “But you… I mean you said it yourself, you didn’t know that we were swapped until like two minutes ago.”

“Yeah, but I still told him the four of you were acting weird,” Wendy explained defensively, “God, I’m sorry, I didn’t think anything like this was going on.”

Kenny wasn’t too sure how to feel, his heart was racing in panic. Guess it meant they had way less to deal with when they decided to tell Mackey themselves in a few hours, but there was something else, something that stuck out from her story. “When exactly did Mackey ask you about this?”

“Wednesday, during seventh period,” she answered.

“He called me down during sixth,” Kenny’s brow furrowed, thinking back to the odd meeting he had with the guidance counselor, “That’s weird, he didn’t say anything about students acting suspicious when he called me down-” he stopped himself. “Wait a fucking minute, Mackey didn’t even know that it was the electron machine that had been tampered with until that night.”

“What do you mean?” Wendy asked.

“Wednesday night, that’s when Mephesto had that meeting I mentioned earlier,” Kenny felt his heart rate accelerating, “Stan heard them talking. Mephesto told them which machine had been tampered with and that he was worried the effects might be permanent if we stay swapped for too long. How would Mackey know students were acting weird before knowing anything about what got messed with during the field trip?”

“I mean, lots of Mephesto's experiments involve manipulating DNA,” Wendy tried to rationalize, “So they could have just assumed-”

“But then why did they have to have a meeting in-person?” Kenny questioned, thinking back to all of the objections Cartman had brought up, “What changed about the circumstances that made them want to talk about things at the school? How would they know it was so serious that they wanted you to do recon work on our class? Why the fuck did Mackey ask me if I had something planned?!”

Wendy started to catch on, her concern now matching Kenny’s. “You don’t think-”

“Cartman was right,” Kenny muttered, “We’re being set-up.” It explained a lot of what had happened these past couple of days. Not everything, but a lot. The teachers were putting things in place for them to turn themselves in, hand themselves over, with Wendy as a fail safe for proof if they didn't follow through.

“But for what?” Wendy asked, “Why go through all this trouble?”

Kenny frowned, “I’m not too sure, but whatever it is, we’re gonna walk right into it.”

“Oh shit,” Wendy cursed, perfectly timed with a loud whistle from the gym, announcing that class was over, “Kenny, I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s okay, you didn’t know,” Kenny reassured her, “Don’t worry.”

“But if something happens-”

“Then we’ll deal with it,” he interrupted, “Just make sure you don’t say anything else.”

“Of course,” Wendy agreed as the doors to the gym swung open, and the students filtered through to get back into street clothes. He quickly lost Wendy in the crowd, and tried his best to find the others, but was shit out of luck. Dammit, this was bad, he thought, getting changed as quickly as he could. Why couldn’t Cartman have been more convincing? Why didn’t Kenny trust his own doubts more? Why did it take talking things through with Wendy Testaburger of all people to make him realize how shady everything has been?

All questions he couldn’t quite answer, and it wasn’t like it mattered now.

He waited as long as he could outside the locker room doors, but didn’t manage to catch any of the guys. Just his fucking luck. He barely beat the bell getting to his next class, and brought out his phone the second he landed in the seat, opening the group chat.

guys, i was wrong, we’re so fucked if we go to mackey, we can't tell him shit

someone answer plz

@everyone GUYS SERIOUSLY I’M NOT FUCKING AROUND

If Kenny was any stronger, he was sure the phone screen would have cracked in his hands. Not to beat a dead horse, but goddamnit his friends needed to get better at responding to messages. Or maybe Kenny needed to not send texts during class.

No, that wasn’t it.

He just had to get to the end of one more class, and then he would at least be able to meet up with them, be able to talk Kyle and Stan down from the plan. Kyle had been more hesitant initially, but who knows how much that had changed in the past few hours.

Of course, the universe was too cruel to grant him that. It had been less than five minutes after he sent the last message when an aid from the front offices walked into the classroom and handed his teacher a slip. Kenny was fortunate enough to recognize it from his previous summons two days ago. He knew it was for him before his teacher announced it to the class.

This time around, there were no ‘oo’s of judgement as Cartman’s name was called out. Everyone in the classroom could guess as to why he was being called down. He should have just let Kyle and Cartman argue themselves to exhaustion at lunch.

He was maybe a tad harsh as he ripped the slip from his teacher’s hands, backpack slung over one shoulder before he marched down the hall. Kenny couldn’t help it, he was a man on a mission. There were two possibilities as to what Mackey could want to talk with him about. If he was lucky, the fight at lunch. If he wasn’t, the incident at Mephesto’s lab.

As he turned the corner, seeing Stan, Kyle, and Cartman all sat outside Mackey’s office, his stomach flipped.

They were so fucked.

“What were you talking about in the group chat?” Kyle asked as Kenny got close, “You shouldn’t be blowing up our phones during class.”

“It was fucking important,” Kenny narrowed his eyes, quickly glancing towards the office door to make sure they were more or less alone, “Look guys, about the plan-”

Before he could get another word out, the door swung open. “Oh good, you’re all here. Come in and have a seat, m’kay?” Mackey said, gesturing for them to follow him into his office. Kenny bit back a scream, but followed suit, the rest of his friends trailing behind him. They all took a seat, each and everyone of them wrecked with nerves. He tried to make eye contact with the others, but only Cartman met his gaze, raising an eyebrow at his panicked state.

“Stan, Kyle, Kenny, and Eric,” Mr. Mackey began, sending chills down Kenny’s spine. He sounded disappointed, looking between each of them with some form of pity. Wendy was right, even if she didn't know when she snitched on them, Mackey must have been able to put the pieces together. “It’s been a while since the four of you have been in my office together.”

“Mr. Mackey,” Kyle sat up a bit straighter, “There’s actually something we need to tell you about-“

“Darn right there is, m’kay?” Mackey interrupted, “I heard from a very trustworthy student that you four have been causing a lot of trouble.”

Kenny could see Kyle’s eye twitch despite being two seats away from him. “Okay, yes we have, but there’s something else-“

“Now, I understand that talking things through with adults can be intimidating, but it’s a necessary part of the healing process,” their guidance counselor explained. Kenny raised an eyebrow, thinking he may have been wrong to assume this was about the field trip. Was this really about the fight? Just what exactly did Wendy tell him?

“You’re right Mr. Mackey,” Cartman spoke, his Kyle impression in full swing, “There’s a lot we’ve been avoiding these past few days.”

Kyle frowned, “Dude, what are you-”

“No, no, we can’t keep putting this off,” Cartman interrupted, taking in a dramatic breath, “You see, Mr. Mackey, I think it’s safe to say that things have been… difficult lately.”

“That’s putting it lightly,” Stan scoffed, but Cartman promptly ignored him.

“These three probably won’t admit it, but I guess I’ll be the more mature one and say something,” Cartman sighed, “We just aren’t as close as we once were, and it’s ruining our friendship.”

The speed at which all three of them turned their heads to look at Cartman should have been some sort of give away that something was amiss, but somehow Mackey just nodded along, like everything was normal, and this was what he had been expecting. Kenny's mouth fell agape at just how disappointed Cartman had made himself look, and how quickly he had their school counselor in the palm of his hand.

“Oh you’ve got to be fucking kidding me, Cartman!” Kyle exclaimed, his body turned to face him, but this only spurred him on more.

“Sure, call me Cartman just because you don’t agree with me! Real mature, Stan!” Cartman shot back harshly, and suddenly Kenny realized what was going on. So this was his plan all along, to play off of Kyle’s good reputation with the faculty to throw them off the scent.

Kyle’s eyes widened, also suddenly making the connection, “I’m not- you son of a bitch-”

“Watch your mouth, Stanley,” Mr. Mackey warned, “Cursing out Kyle isn’t going to make things easier, m’kay?”

Kyle let out a painful laugh, in disbelief over how the tables had turned, “But I’m not-”

“Yes, Stan, you’ve been avoiding the real problem for ages!” Cartman exclaimed as he pushed himself off his chair, his eyes getting watery. Oh shit, he was really going for it. “I’m sick and tired of pretending everything’s okay! And I’m sorry that I’m the only one who wants to fix things!”

“What do you get out of this?” Kyle asked, his voice dripping with malice, “I mean, seriously, how does this help us?”

“Wow, you think this is for personal gain?” Cartman shook his head, dramatically wiping the tears from eyes. God, he was maybe too good at this, Kenny thought. “You’re really unbelievable, Stan.” Before anyone else could get another word out, Cartman stormed out of the room, letting out a pathetic wail before the door closed behind him.

Cartman bolting left the others in a tense silence. Kenny was more than grateful for the out, but Stan and Kyle looked pissed. More so Kyle, who was now gripping the armrest on his chair so tight that it should have snapped from the pressure.

“What the fuck just happened?” Stan asked, to no one in particular.

“Well, that’s what I’m talking about, m’kay?” Mackey said, gesturing towards the door as if Cartman were still standing there, “If we don’t talk about our feelings, they bubble up and we say hurtful things.”

“But he’s lying!” Kyle exclaimed, standing up from his seat, “That’s not- he’s actually Cart-”

“Now, that’s enough, Stanley!” the guidance counselor cut him off, “You shouldn’t be making fun of Kyle for being more in-touch with his emotions, m’kay?”

“You’ve got to be shitting me!” Kyle’s voice strained, “I’m Kyle-”

“In fact, I’m gonna sign you all up for an individual session with me next week, then we can talk about this in a more serious manner,” Mackey wrote something down a note on a post-it as Kyle turned to Stan and Kenny, eyes wide in a frustrated panic, begging for assistance.

“Mr. Mackey, there’s actually-” Stan began to speak, pulling down the hood of the parka so that way he could be heard, but Mackey had already made up his mind.

“I think I’ve heard all that I need to hear, you boys should head back to class.”

“But-”

“Head back to class right now, m’kay!” He yelled at them. Kenny didn’t need any more convincing, quickly standing up from his seat, and dragging both Stan and Kyle by their arms out of the room. Kyle continued to stammer, trying to get any kind of word in, but Mackey was clearly ignoring them at this point. Once they were all out in the hallway, Kenny sighed heavily, dropping his friends from his grip.

“Well, what are we supposed to do now?” Stan asked, looking towards Kenny with wide eyes, distress written all over his face. He was about to answer when Kyle spoke, finally having found his voice.

“I’m gonna fucking kill him,” Kyle growled, the look in his eyes murderous.

Kenny scowled, “Okay, I get being pissed off at Cartman, but there has to be a better way.” He tried to keep his voice calm, but his words did little to change Kyle’s mind.

“Nope, I’m killing him,” Kyle said bluntly, already storming down the hallway. Kenny didn’t have to look at Stan as the two stumbled over themselves trying to follow. They managed to catch up as they rounded the corner, spotting Cartman leaning up against the lockers, checking his nails like he had planned to meet them there. The smug bastard.

“I told you I wasn’t just gonna sit by,” he snarked as he pushed himself from the lockers, walking slowly towards the group, somehow oblivious to Kyle’s rage, “Maybe next time, don’t plan-”

His monologue was cut short as Kyle punched him in the jaw, the force knocking him to the group. The sound of the impact echoed throughout the hall, and Kenny grimaced at how quickly it took him down. Kyle must really have been holding back his frustrations with Cartman all week, and honestly, Kenny didn't blame him.

“Jesus Chirst!” Stan exclaimed, stumbling forward as he grabbed Kyle by the shoulders, “Dude, calm down!”

“Just what the fuck were you thinking?!” Kyle yelled at Cartman, “You wanna act like you’ve turned over a new leaf, that you're a better person, but then you go and pull that bullshit- ”

“Okay, okay, let’s all calm down!” Kenny rushed to stand in between Kyle and Cartman’s body, still prone on the floor, “Violence won’t get us anywhere.”

“I beg to fucking differ,” Kyle made an attempt to break from Stan’s grasp, but Kenny help his ground, hand still out to stop him from curb stomping Cartman any further. 

“Stop it dude,” Kenny warned, “I know you’re pissed, but it was for the best. Cartman was right.”

“He was?” Stan asked.

“I was?” Cartman’s confused tone quickly changed as the others turned their attention back to him still lying on the floor. “I mean, ha! Of fucking course I was right! Take that Kyle!”

“How do you know?” Kyle followed up, his glare now aimed at Kenny.

“Wendy-,” Kenny started to answer, but was quickly cut off.

“Wendy?” Kyle scowled.

“How would Wendy know?” Stan questioned.

Kenny sighed. “She didn't- Let me explain for a second. Mackey was having her keep an eye on students who were acting weird this week,” he continued, “She knew that it had something to do with the field trip, but didn’t realize we were swapped-”

“Wait, Wendy knows about the body swap?” Kyle interrupted.

Kenny bit back a scream. He knew they were all getting a bit restless, but Jesus fucking Christ. “Yeah, she figured it out all on her own. And at this point, I doubt she’s the only one.”

“Nosey bitch,” Cartman grumbled, finally back on his feet, still rubbing his sore jaw, “Always knew she was a narc.”

Kyle sighed, “Okay, but that doesn’t mean that Cartman was right about this being a trap. If anything, doesn’t that just prove that the teachers didn’t know it was us?”

“It would if she was told after that meeting on Wednesday, but Mackey met with her before that,” Kenny revealed, “You don’t think that’s weird? ‘Cartman’ gets called into the office, I say I don’t have any evil schemes planned, Mackey asks Wendy to spy on the class, and then there’s miraculously some kind of last minute meeting set up with Mephesto where they say the swap might become permanent?”

“I told you it was too much of a coincidence,” Cartman muttered. Kyle didn’t spare him any more attention, instead looking at Kenny, his brow fraught with concern.

“So… what? They somehow knew it was us this whole time? Then why was Mackey so fucking clueless just a minute ago?” he asked.

“I don’t- I don’t really know,” Kenny answered honestly, “This whole thing is just so fucking convoluted. But based on these past couple of days, they've been setting us up to confess to what happened ourselves."

Stan shook his head, "Why the hell do they need us to say something? I mean, they must have some kind of evidence, so what's with all the scheming?" He looked between Kenny and Kyle for any answers, but truthfully Kenny was just as clueless as him. His talk with Wendy had given him some insight, but the motives behind the plan still weren't crystal clear. Before he could spout some bullshit, Cartman sighed heavily, cursing under his breath, like he'd hade some major revelation.

"Oh, fuck me," Cartman groaned, "It's because the teachers aren't going to be the ones handing out the punishment."

Kenny scowled, "What are you talking about?"

He crossed his arms, his face dark. "Between the teachers and Mephesto, which one of them has anything to gain from us messing with a machine of his?" Cartman asked, "Think about it, if we confess, why wouldn't they ask Mephesto for input on what to do with us, given we fucked with his shit in his lab? Makes it easier on them if someone else calls the shots."

“That's why Mackey was wanting me to work with him,” Kenny’s eyes widened as he connected the dots, "That way, whatever Mephesto wants could be suggested as an better, alternative punishment."

“Exactly!” Cartman’s eyes were lit up the same way they would be while scheming, “They could frame it as throwing us a bone, community service helping out at the lab to make up for our mistakes instead of sitting around in detention. And then it’ll be like what Stan said on day one. We’re test subjects one through four.”

“Hold up, you think he just wants to use us as his fucking guinea pigs?” Kyle crossed his arms, “No way the teachers would agree to that.”

“What they don’t know won’t hurt them,” Cartman mused, “Besides, it wouldn’t be the first time he used middle schoolers as test subjects.”

A chill went down Kenny’s spine at the reminder. As glad as he was that they had some sort of answers, they weren’t exactly uplifting.

Stan started to pace, “Okay, so we can’t tell the teachers because they'll just hand us over to Mephesto, but his lab has the machine that can change us back, what the hell are we supposed to do? It’s almost been a week, I don’t think this is just gonna wear off on its own.”

“Why do you think I keep suggesting breaking in ?” Cartman asked, somewhat annoyed, causing Kyle to roll his eyes, “Those have been my words every fucking time. Not that you guys have wanted to listen to me-”

“Are you seriously trying to guilt trip us after pulling the rug out from under us like ten minutes ago?” Stan asked, crossing his arms as he pointedly cut Cartman off.

“The past is in the past, Stan,” Cartman waved him off, “Besides, it was for the better, we have a common enemy now.”

“Yeah, it’s still you, jackass,” Kyle said deadpan, which seemingly snapped Cartman out of his nonchalant attitude.

Kenny stroked his chin in thought as his friends continued to bicker. Cartman could- theoretically- break them in, but Kyle had brought up a good point earlier. Without knowing how to use the machine, they would get caught way too quickly. Maybe they would just have to bite the bullet and-

His phone buzzed in his pocket with a text notification. He frowned as he pulled it out, the only people he’d really been texting were all standing in front of him. Who else could the message be from?

The relief that washed over him as he saw Butters contact pop up was enough to make him forget just how screwed the four of them were, if only for a second.

“Holy shit, he lives!” He exclaimed, opening the text as quickly as he could.

“Rapunzel managed to send you a message from his tower?” Cartman asked sarcastically, but was easily ignored as Kyle and Stan rushed to Kenny’s side looking over his shoulder at the message.

“‘Eric, I’m scheduling this message to send late Friday in case I get grounded and can’t talk to you in person’,” Kenny read aloud, “‘During school today, I was going through Mephesto’s records and found something I must have missed the other day, construction drafts for the Electron Swap and Transfer Device that list the functions of all the buttons and levers!’ Holy shit, he found something!”

“Did he attach any files to the message?” Kyle asked.

“Doesn’t look like it,” Kenny frowned, “Must have been too big of a file.”

“Convenient,” Cartman scoffed.

Kenny shot a glare over his shoulder, but continued reading,“‘I figured this was what you were looking for, but I didn’t get a second to chat with you about it, so I decided to just print it out and show you the next day.’” And yet another blow to the bullshit that was yesterday, god-fucking-dammit. “‘Turns out, it used up a lot of printer paper and after I put it all together in my room my dad yelled at me for wasting paper and asked me what I was using it for-’ oh that’s not good.”

“It couldn’t be that bad,” Stan offered, but he didn’t sound all that optimistic.

“‘I knew I would get in trouble if I told him the truth, but I didn’t know what else to say, so-’” Kenny stopped, having briefly read ahead, and sighed in disappointment, “‘-so I lied and said I was printing stuff off some adult website.’”

The others hummed in sympathy and disappointment, aside from Cartman, who just laughed, “This is the guy you have a crush on? No way he's fucking serious.”

“Fuck off,” Kenny rolled his eyes, decided in the moment to skip over the next sentence, which was just Butters asking what Grindr is- apparently he’d seen on it his dad's phone, poor guy- and get back to the important information, “‘Anyway, he was so pissed that he didn’t even ask to see anything and just sent me to my room. I can still hear my folks talking about it and it sounds like I’m not gonna be at school tomorrow.’”

“Jesus, his parents are a piece of work,” Kyle scoffed, shaking his head, “How is skipping school a punishment?”

“Probably to get him away from bad influences,” Stan suggested, motioning to both Kenny and Cartman.

Kenny frowned, “I’m not that bad.”

Kyle raised an eyebrow, “Says the same guy who celebrated when we called his girlfriend a slut.”

“Okay, we’re losing focus,” Kenny turned back to his phone, ignoring the heat rising to his cheeks, “Continuing. ‘I’m sorry Eric. If you want the manual, I still have it, you’ll just have to sneak in through the backyard.’”

“Great, a fucking fetch quest,” Cartman grumbled, “How the fuck are we supposed to sneak over, his bedroom is on the second floor?!”

“Sounds like he’s already thought about that,” Kenny said, glancing at the next sentence, “‘My parents have a date night tonight so they shouldn’t be around. If you have any trouble, just-’” he once again had to stop, his voice trailing off as he finished the sentence, “‘-just ask Kenny, he’s snuck in a few times before.’”

The looks the guys were giving him were anything but subtle. “Oh?” Kyle forced down a laugh, “You’ve snuck in before?”

“I-” Kenny’s throat suddenly felt dry, “Okay, he makes it sound worse than it was. I was just- you know what, it doesn’t fucking matter, I’m not telling you assholes, alright?!”

“Did you throw rocks at his window to get his attention?” Stan asked, his mischievous smile only making Kenny more flustered, “Recite some kind of poetry?”

Kyle cackled, “Like the fucking balcony scene from Romeo and Juliet?!”

“Exactly that!” Stan exclaimed, laughing alongside Kyle, “God, how does that scene go?”

“Are you guys being serious right now?” Kenny asked, eye twitching as his rage simmered under the surface.

“I think I remember,” Stan cleared his throat, “Oh, what soft light through yonder window breaks?” he gestured above him, waxing poetic to the imaginary balcony.

Kyle couldn’t contain his laughter, “Oh Romeo, where art tho, Romeo?” he acted out, placing a hand over his forehead as he sighed dramatically.

“‘Tis the east,” Stan grabbed Kyle’s hand, bending at the knee, “And Juliet is the sun.” They looked at each other wistfully for a moment before completely losing their composure. 

“You know what, fuck this!” Kenny shouted, his blood boiling from embarrassment and frustration, causing Stan and Kyle to drop their ridiculous poses, “What do you want me to say, huh?! You want to me be all profound about why I like him and why I would put myself through this bullshit with you three, but guess fucking what?! You're all fucking wrong!”

Stan frowned, his amusement faltering, “Dude, we’re just joking-”

“It’s the fucking same as every other crush I’ve ever had,” Kenny continued, “I don’t know where you got the idea that I needed some like Shakespearean level pining, when it all just boils down to me being super fucking shallow! I think he’s cute, okay?! He’s cute and he’s nice to me, unlike the lot of you, so sue me for having a crush on the guy!”

Kyle bit his lip, “Kenny-”

“Why is it that every single time I like someone, we go through this song and dance?! I’m a simple guy, with simple wants, compared to you fuckers with your complicated bullshit!” 

They all looked between each other, but only Kyle seemed to have the nerve to challenge his claim. “Okay dude, I’m sorry if we hit a nerve, but you don’t need to exaggerate anything.”

“Oh, I’m exaggerating?” Kenny asked, “Because last I checked, you’ve never been in a relationship that lasted longer than a day,” Kyle’s face dropped, “Stan is too emotionally unavailable to even response to texts from the girl he liked with anything more than a thumbs up emoji,” Stan opened his mouth to protest, but Kenny had already turned his attention to Cartman, “And don’t even get me started on that shit show that was your last relationship with-”

“Shut up, Cartman!!” Cartman exclaimed in annoyance.

Kenny's eyes widened, and Cartman's hand quickly flew up to cover his mouth, meeting Kenny's gaze with a look of panic and disbelief. All of the aggravation and tension that had been building up suddenly fell, replaced with a deafening silence. 

“Shit,” Kyle muttered under his breath, “Was that like what Kenny-”

“Kind of,” Stan cut him off, know exactly what he was referring to, “Though, Kenny’s slip up wasn’t that bad.”

Cartman blinked, hands shaking ever so slightly as he brought them away from his face. “We need to fix this. Now.”

“Yeah, no shit,” Kenny frowned. The bell for the end of class rang out, and it wasn’t long before students started to fill the hallways. 

“Let’s reconvene after school, I think I can come up with something,” Kyle suggested, and the other three nodded in agreement as they all went off to their classes.

Class was the last thing on Kenny’s mind, which meant he for sure failed the Spanish test. But also, fuck the test, it really didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. It’s not like Cartman would have studied either.

Okay, maybe not the most reassuring thought, but Kenny couldn’t really afford another mental spiral. 

He didn’t pay much attention to the lectures of his last two classes, focusing instead on the hands of the clocks, watching the minutes count down to the end of the day, when Kyle would hopefully have come up with some kind of plan. 

Kenny and Stan ran into each other once they left their respective classrooms for seventh period, speed-walking to the front entrance as fast they could manage in the sea of kids leaving the school. They didn’t say anything, only exchanging a quick look as they got to the main hallway. Once they got out of the doors, they quickly found Kyle and Cartman, who had just ran into each other by the looks of it. 

“Okay, here’s the game plan,” Kyle explained as they came together amongst the crowd of students excited for the weekend, “Kenny will talk to Cartman’s mom about hosting some kind of sleepover together, making sure there’ll be a long period of time where she won’t bother us.”

“Shouldn’t be too hard,” Kenny shrugged, “She’s not really one to ask many questions.”

“Stan and I will just have to hope that his and Kenny’s parents are okay with something so last minute-”

“Guilt tripping my mom will probably work,” Stan interrupted, “Saying you’ve had a shitty week, etcetera. Honestly, she’ll probably say yes if you say you just want to get away from Randy.”

“Good point,” Kyle nodded, “Cartman, you’re going to have to sneak out, and so help me god if you get caught-”

“Relax, jew, I’ve already done it once this week,” Cartman smirked, “No need to be all anal about it.”

Kyle rolled his eyes, but continued, “Butter’s yard is connected to Cartman’s so once we clock his parent’s car leaving the house, we just need to jump the fence.”

“And how exactly do you suggest getting up to Butters? Grappling hook?” Cartman asked, condescendingly.

“He might still have a make-shift climbing rope,” Kenny contemplated, “Or one of those fire escape ladders that you can throw out of your window.”

Stan and Kyle both shot him a look. “Is that your secret method of sneaking in?” Stan asked.

Kenny scowled, blushing furiously, “I thought we were done with this shit-”

“We are, you just walked right into that one,” Kyle pointed out, “So long as we can get his attention, and he can throw down the damn manual we should be good. Then it’s just one long bike ride away to the lab, and we're home free.”

“Granted Cartman can get us in,” Kenny grimly reminded.

Cartman scoffed, “You have that little faith in me?”

“Do you really want an answer?”

“Anyways,” Kyle cut in, shooting glares at the two of them, “That should cover all our bases. Anything I missed? I scribbled down most of the plan on my social studies notes, we can go over them on the bus.”

Kenny wanted to feel relieved, Kyle had seemingly thought of everything, but he was more or less still on edge. There was something eating at the back of his mind. Something he was forgetting. He couldn’t pin it down, but it made him worry that this plan wouldn’t go as smoothly as Kyle hoped.

“You really think it’ll be that easy?” he asked, his voice low as they neared the sidewalk that lined the bus lane.

Kyle had been putting on a good face, doing his best to stay rational, but that simple question hit him harder than Kenny had been expecting. His confident smile wavered. “I… I’m not really sure,” he answered honestly, looking between the other three in the group, “But I’d rather go out on a limb than not have anything change.”

Ever the best friend, Stan patted Kyle on the shoulder supportively. “Don’t worry guys,” he smiled, turning around and walking backwards to face them all, “We’ve managed through worse odds, we’ve got this in the-”

Stan took a slightly larger step back than he needed to, stepping off the sidewalk and onto the road. As he started to fall backwards, a flash of yellow from the right caught Kenny’s attention, and he had just enough of a reaction time to yell, “Stan, look out!” as the school bus came out of nowhere, at a speed not advisable in a school zone. He reached out to his friend, but was too late, watching as Stan turned his head to the incoming vehicle, only to have it immediately slam into him, the front tires running over his already broken body before coming to a stop.

They all froze in place, standing there slack jawed. Kenny’s hands were still shaking, his heart dropping to his stomach, as he looked at the remains of his own body- his friend- now painted on the front of the school bus. Dead. It was… truly horrifying, but he was sure it felt worse than it looked.

That was what he was forgetting. And the worst part was that he had known this would happen. He had spent the better part of the past week trying to keep this from happening and yet-

He had been too optimistic that things were looking up.

Kenny wasn’t sure if it made it better or worse that only the three of them were having any sort of reaction to the whole event. The bus driver didn’t even seem to notice she had run over a kid, and the nearby students walked past them, annoyed that they were blocking the path.

“Oh my god,” Kyle’s voice was breathless and shaky, still in shock, “They killed Stan.”

“You bastards!” Cartman exclaimed, the anger in his voice shifting as soon as the words left his mouth, “Oh wow, that’s like a fucking reflex.”

Both Kenny and Kyle’s head snapped to his direction, both of them a mix of horrified and offended at the casual tone.

He scowled at them, “What?! I’ve never gotten to say it before!”

Chapter Text

Stan woke up with a scream, sitting up and scrambling backwards. His heart was pounding in his ears, adrenaline rushing, as he squeezed his eyes shut. He could still feel it, the sudden force that had hit his body, the bright white headlights of the school bus burned into his brain as he waited with baited breath for the next wave of pain.

He couldn’t believe how stupid he had been. Tripping over the sidewalk because he was walking backwards, not seeing that fucking bus. As he waited, and waited for something to happen, he couldn’t help but blame himself for everything. He was an idiot. He was going to get himself killed in Kenny’s body. He was… he was-

Sitting in bed?

His eyes fluttered open after clocking the soft material underneath him, frantically scanning his surroundings. He realized fairly quickly that he was indeed in Kenny’s bedroom, just sitting on his bed. Looking down at himself, patting his body for injuries, he found he was completely fine. Not a scratch.

That had just been a dream? A really, really fucked up dream?

Stan didn’t quite believe it. It was too vivid, too realistic. Well, it was up until he got run over, that really came out of left field. Was he so stressed about swapping back that his brain wanted to show him the absolutely worst case scenario??

It was odd, but if it wasn’t a dream… he wasn’t sure what else it could be. It’s not like something like that could actually happen.

He looked around for his phone, eventually finding it on the bedside table, and checked the time. It was still Friday, around five in the evening. There weren’t any missed texts or calls from his friends, the last thing he saw were Kenny’s frantic messages from sixth period.

Okay, so that part of the day had happened, but what about everything else? He didn’t remember anything about how he got back to Kenny’s house, and the more he thought about it, he wasn’t even sure he remembered what happened right after school.

There were fuzzy memories of Kyle’s plan, Kenny and Cartman’s objections and comments, but the specifics were getting lost in his mind. How the hell did he get back here? Did someone pick him up? It was like recalling information from a dream, becoming less and less vivid as time went on.

It was honestly giving Stan a headache.

Standing up from the bed, he slowly made his way out of the room. The McCormick house was relatively quiet, which didn’t really calm his nerves. It only made him feel more unsure about just what was going on.

He vaguely remembered that he was supposed to go over to Cartman’s house, and that he should probably ask one of Kenny’s parents before just leaving. 

He wandered around the house, feeling slightly lost and tired, looking around for an adult. It was pretty early in the evening, which seemed too early for either of Kenny’s parents to leave their kids home alone, but it wasn’t completely out of the realm of possibility.

The living room was empty, which he should have gathered from the silence. The kitchen was in a similar state, and for the briefest of moments, he was worried that the dream wasn’t over and that this was just a new level of it. He was quickly proven wrong as someone shorter than him hugged him from behind.

“Kenny, you’re home!” Kenny’s younger sister Karen exclaimed, wrapping her arms around his chest, “I’ve missed you!”

Stan froze at the contact, mostly out of surprise. He was relieved that he wasn’t alone, but he couldn’t help but feel incredibly awkward every time he interacted with Kenny’s younger sister.

“Hey, Karen,” he greeted, reluctantly returning the hug as he smoothed out her hair.

She looked up at him, smiling wide, “Can you play princesses with me tonight?”

Guilt bubbled up in his chest. Karen had always been particularly clingy to Kenny, mostly because Kenny did a lot of the taking care of her, taking more responsibility for her than a kid Kenny’s age should. He had always been vaguely aware of the lengths Kenny went to while looking after Karen, but he didn’t realize the extent of it until that first night of the swap, when he was thrust into Kenny’s routine. 

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, his heart squeezing as Karen’s face fell, “I- I’m hanging with friends again.”

She pouted, letting go of Stan’s chest. “You’ve been gone a lot lately,” she said sadly.

“I know,” Stan quickly dropped to a knee, so he could make eye contact with Karen, “Things have been kind of… complicated recently. I, uh, I’m sorry about that.”

“Complicated how?” Karen asked, tilting her head to the side.

“Just-” Stan bit his lip, unsure how exactly to explain things, “Me and my friends are kind of… working through some stuff. But everything will go back to normal really soon.” 

“You promise?”

Stan smiled warmly at her, “I promise.” She giggled before giving him another hug and running off back to- presumably- go play in her room. Okay, that could have gone worse, he thought to himself as he stood back up, he would just need to make sure to talk to Kenny about it when they switched back tonight.

If they switched back tonight. That still might be up in the air.

“You shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep,” a new voice added, ruffling Stan’s hair as he passed behind him. Kenny’s older brother, Kevin. The two hadn’t interacted a whole lot during the swap, with Kevin being gone from the house just as much and as often as Stan had this past week. “Especially since you didn’t ask if I could pick up the slack. I have a life you know.”

“And I don’t?” Stan asked with a scoff. He was far more used to interacting with an older sibling than a younger one, though, his and Shelly’s talks haven’t been all that great as of late. But that was more to do with stuff with their parents rather than how they actually felt about one another.

Kevin shot him a confused look, and Stan’s stomach dropped. Maybe Kenny and Kevin didn’t have the same dynamic he and Shelly had, but it's a bit too late for that now.

“Huh,” Kevin shook his head as he grabbed a can of soda from the fridge, “So, ya gonna ditch us again to go to that Cartman kid’s house?”

Stan swallowed hard, shuffling his feet to slowly walk over. “Uh, yeah, I was gonna.”

Kevin laughed, “Oh, were you gonna ask to stay over this time?”

Stan tensed up, “I-”

“Jesus, relax, I’m just fucking with you, I don’t care what you do” Kevin interrupted, playful pushing Stan to the side as he fell back onto the couch, “God, you’ve been jumpy lately.”

“It’s been a long week,” Stan sighed, sitting down next to him. With the adults absent from the house, he figured he might as well check his suspensions. “Did… did someone pick me up from school today?”

Kevin raised an eyebrow, “Uh, no? I mean, I doubt mom and dad would, and I for sure didn’t. Why you asking?”

Well, that just gave Stan more questions than answers. “No reason,” he deflected.

“Uh huh,” Kevin didn’t seem to believe him, “Did something happen at school? Are you finally starting to ditch classes?”

“What? No!” Stan exclaimed, standing up from the couch, “I didn’t ditch!”

“Then what exactly are you asking me?”

“I don’t know!” Stan groaned, “It’s stupid, just forget it.”

Kevin scowled at him, “What has been going on with you lately?”

“Nothing! I’m fine!” Stan yelled. Kevin opened his mouth but was interrupted by a knock on the front door. “I’ll get it,” he grumbled, already walking off.

“Wait, a minute, Kenny-”

“I’m getting the door,” Stan called back as he reached the front door. Sighing, he opened it up, revealing Kenny, hand still outstretched from knocking on the door and breathing heavily. He looked shocked to see Stan, eyes widening in surprise.

“Hey man, how… How long have you been up?” Kenny asked cautiously.

Stan furrowed his brow, “Uh, like ten, fifteen minutes. I’m not too sure. How did- How did you know that I just woke up?”

Kenny grimaced, “Listen, there’s something-”

“You should at least answer my question before you just walk away!” Kevin rounded the corner, his voice stern. Between the look that Kenny was giving him and the disappointed tone from his brother, Stan was more than a little tongue tied as Kevin walked up to the door, and glared down at Kenny. “Oh it’s you. What do you want with him?”

“I was just-” Even Kenny’s voice faltered, “I just came to grab him for the sleepover. I’m sure he mentioned it already”

Kevin looked Kenny up and down before rolling his eyes and sighing heavily. “We’re not done talking about this,” he spat at Stan, leaving Stan and Kenny alone in the threshold of the front door.

“What was that about?” Kenny asked.

“It’s my bad,” Stan sighed, “He’s just worried about you, I don’t…,” his voice died in his throat. He hadn’t meant to snap at Kenny’s brother like that, but his confusion and lack of memories was freaking him out. “Do you know how I got back here after school?”

Kenny’s face fell in a way that Stan couldn’t quite describe. “Let’s… not talk about it here.”

Slightly confused, Stan looked back into the house, confirming that Kevin was nowhere to be seen. Why can’t they talk about it here? “Uh, okay,” he nodded, closing the door behind him as they walked down the front steps of the house. 

The walk was not very far, thank goodness, but Kenny keeping his back to Stan for most of it did make him unreasonably anxious. His thoughts were spiralling about what Kenny could possibly be upset about. His reaction to Stan’s question was still at the forefront of his thoughts. Kenny must have known why Stan had asked, or at least he hoped Kenny did. Maybe Kevin had been right about Stan ditching class, even if Stan himself didn’t remember that. Could Kenny be mad at him for that? Should he apologize? Was it a dick move to apologize for something he didn’t remember doing?

“Look, I- I don’t remember leaving school,” Stan began to explain once they hit the train tracks, “I didn’t mean to ditch you guys-”

“You didn’t,” Kenny’s voice was dark, still not quite meeting Stan’s eyes, “Do you… do you really not remember anything that happened after school?”

Stan shook his head, “No, dude, it’s all like, fuzzy or something. I don’t know how to explain it. I’ve got like zero details,” his pace slowed down, “I mean, I had this, this weird dream before I woke up,” Kenny’s head turned to face him, “I would have thought it was real, but the ending was just… unrealistic, I guess.”

There was a spark behind Kenny’s eyes, his face lighting up ever so slightly as he stopped in his tracks. “Unrealistic how?”

Even thinking back on it, Stan felt his whole body tense up, like he was still bracing for impact. “I was walking out of school with you guys, and then,” he shook his head, scoffing in disbelief over how insane it sounded out loud, “It’s so weird, I stepped backwards off the sidewalk and instantly got run over by a school bus. And then I woke up here. Like I said, man, it was a super weird dre-”

“It wasn’t a dream,” Kenny cut him off, sighing heavily, “That… that happened. I watched it. You got run over, and then you… You died, Stan.”

Stan blinked, waiting for the other shoe to drop, but Kenny was being uncharacteristically serious. He wasn’t joking. “Dude, there’s no way-”

“I know I sound fucking crazy,” Kenny interrupted again, “I just- please just listen to me for a second.” Stan closed his mouth, concerned about just how worked up Kenny was getting. “I need you to think back to that, think really hard. Like, really, really concentrate. The details may be fuzzy, but that feeling- when you got hit- you remember that, I know it.”

Stan was starting to panic, “Kenny, I don’t really understand-”

“Just try to remember!” Kenny exclaimed, rushing forward to grab Stan by the shoulders, eyes slightly glossy, “You gotta remember, just this one fucking time, please , Stan.”

“I don’t…” Stan’s voice trailed as he shook his head, but despite his better judgement, he thought back. He remembered Kenny yelling for him to look out, turning his head to see the dim headlights of the bus. Stan flinched as his mind relived the hit, but then his memories kept going, the detail more vivid now. There was more pain, his vision fading to black as he distantly heard Kyle and Cartman saying something. 

Then… he felt it. He felt his heart stop beating. He… he could remember it happening. And once it started again, he had woken up back in Kenny’s room. 

“What the fuck,” he breathed out, his stomach tightening in knots, “That actually happened. I… I died?” The realization made his blood run cold “Why did I… how the fuck did I forget about that?”

Kenny let out a shaky laugh, a tear sliding down his cheek, “Holy shit, that actually worked.”

“No dude, seriously, how the fuck did you know that happened?!” Stan repeated his concerns, shoving Kenny off of him, “How am I standing here right now!? What the hell is going on?!”

“Stan, I need you to take a breath-”

“And how the fuck are you so calm about this?!” Stan yelled, “This isn’t normal, Kenny, this some weird, fucked up-”

“It is normal!” Kenny yelled, leaving Stan in a tense silence, only filled with Kenny’s shaky breathing.

“What do you mean?” Stan asked.

“I-” Kenny cut himself off, eyes still watery, “I knew it happened because… it’s not the first time it's happened to me.” Stan stared at him, confused, and so he continued. “Stan, I’ve died before. Like, I’ve died a lot of times. Just like this.”

He scowled at Kenny, “Don’t lie to me, dude.”

“I’m not lying,” Kenny sighed again, “I die all the fucking time, the universe wants me dead for some god forsaken reason and then brings me back to fuck with me. That’s why all that weird shit’s been happening to you all week. That ceiling light, almost falling off the side of the school, whatever the fuck happened during volleyball today, all of it. That could have killed you- would have killed you. I’ve been trying to keep it from happening but… I got too optimistic.”

Stan shook his head, dread and guilt building up in his gut and making him feel weak. “No,” he muttered in disbelief, “No, no there’s no fucking way. If you’ve died before, I would know! I wouldn’t just forget something like that!”

“You do forget,” Kenny said, almost like it was rehearsed, like he’d heard this exact response before, “Every single time, you forget. I’ve tried to tell you guys countless times, but you just- you never remember. You freak out every time it happens, but then when I come back the next day you’re all ‘Oh hey, Kenny, where have you been?’ every goddamn time!” He collapsed onto the sidewalk, holding his head in his hands, “It doesn’t matter how I tell you, or when, you never believe me. Not even when I shoot myself in the head in front of you, you just… you never remember.”

Stan’s stomach was tied in knots, watching Kenny slowly fall into himself with shame and despair. A large part of him wanted to dismiss what Kenny was saying as some intricate lie, that there was no way that Stan would just forget about one of his best friends dying. 

But he had just lived through it.

“Kenny,” Stan lowered himself onto the sidewalk next to him, “How many times have you died?”

His brow furrowed in thought, “About one hundred thirty, give or take a few.”

Stan’s eyes widened, “A hundred- Jesus Christ, dude, what the fuck?!”

“I could be rounding up wrong. Might be closer to one twenty.”

“But that’s,” Stan shook his head, “That’s still too many times.”

Kenny laughed, his voice still a bit weak, “Yeah, well, not much I can do about that.”

“Do you-” Stan stopped himself, not wanting to overstep, “Do you know how it happens?”

Kenny’s face fell once again. “God, I fucking wish,” he sighed, “I’ve been trying to figure it out since we were kids. All I know for sure is that I don’t stay dead. How long I’m gone is a fucking coin toss at this point, but I’ll come back eventually, right back in my bed like it was all a fucking nightmare.” His eyebrows creased together, “I got close to figuring it out once, but- it ended up being a dead end. I never really got any closure on it.”

Stan frowned, “That fucking sucks.”

“It’s whatever. I keep coming back so… that’s all that I care about,” there was a certain somberness in his tone that made Stan feel guiltier than before. 

“I’m so sorry, man,” Stan apologized, and Kenny finally met his eyes again, eyebrow raised at him in confusion, “For not believing you before. Or… ever, I guess. It was hard enough thinking that was a dream, I can’t even begin to think about how isolating this must be for you. Being the only one to remember.”

“I’m not completely alone,” Kenny grimaced slightly, like he was embarrassed to admit it after his whole spiel to Stan, “Cartman knows.”

“Cartman?!” Stan exclaimed, laughing to himself, “How the fuck does he-”

“I have even less answers for that,” Kenny interrupted, joining in Stan’s laughter, “I think Timmy might also know, but that’s more of a hunch if anything.”

Stan shook his head, still somewhat at a loss. “Why didn’t you say anything sooner?” he asked.

Kenny shifted, eyes falling to the ground, “I guess… I knew you wouldn’t believe me, and I didn't want to waste any time arguing about it. If nothing happened, you would think I was crazy, and if something did-”

“Dude, we literally swapped bodies, and you think I would call you crazy for telling me you’re immortal?” Stan interrupted.

“You just called me a liar for saying that two minutes ago,” Kenny pointed out.

“I-” Stan cut himself off, “Fair point.”

“It’s not your fault,” Kenny said, “I’m used to it.”

Stan frowned, “That doesn’t mean it’s okay.” Kenny still wouldn’t quite meet his eyes, shrugging. He was so dismissive, almost like… Like he was just numb to it at this point. Stan’s heart dropped. Oh god, was that it? Kenny had gone through this so much, he just… didn’t care. There wasn’t any good reason to tell Stan, warn him, because Kenny had already known exactly what his response would be, so what was the point?

Between this, and everything that happened with Kyle… God, Stan was a pretty shitty friend. Or at least, he had been. With a heavy sigh, he continued, “Next time it happens, can you… can you tell me if I don’t remember?”

Kenny’s head shot up, quickly turning to face Stan, scowling at him, “What? Why?”

“Because you shouldn’t have to go through that alone,” Stan explained, “You’re my friend, Kenny, I don’t want you to die. If something bad happens to you, I want to know. So, if I still keep forgetting, please tell me.”

Stan had barely finished his sentence when Kenny embraced him in a hug, sniffling as he put his head on Stan’s shoulder. “Thanks, Stan,” he managed to get out.

“Of course, dude,” Stan returned the hug, “What are friends for?”

Kenny let out a quiet laugh, before releasing Stan, wiping away tears from his eyes. “Jesus, I’m such a crybaby,” he shook his head as he continued to sniffle, “Sorry about that.”

“Hey, I’m no better, man, it’s really fine,” Stan put a hand on his shoulder, “I’m here for you.”

Kenny looked at Stan earnestly, “Thank you.” With an exhale he stood up, and motioned for them to keep going, “Don’t want to keep Kyle waiting. He should be over soon.”

“Right, the plan,” Stan followed suit, the both of them finally crossing the train tracks, “So, can you remind me what the plan was? I kind of don’t remember all the details.”

“Of course,” Kenny laughed, and briefly talked through the major points Kyle had thought out during the last period of school as they walked. It was pretty straight forward from this point on. Once Butters’ parents left the house, they could grab the manual from him and head up to the lab no problem.

It wasn’t completely foolproof, and there were sure to be issues along the way, but that was more a problem for the future.

By the time they made it back to Cartman’s house, Stan’s mom’s car pulled into the driveway. Kyle jumped out of the backseat as the car parked, backpack slung over his shoulder. 

“Hey guys!” He greeted as Stan’s mom got out of the car, waving at the boys as she went to go talk to Cartman’s mom, “Dude, you were so right about using Randy as an excuse, she barely fought me on coming over.”

“Told ya,” Stan smiled, ignoring the weird stirring in his gut at Kyle’s nonchalant attitude. It was still weird to think that he had no idea what had happened to Stan mere hours ago, “At least that part was easy. Waiting on Cartman is gonna be rough, though. It sucks that your mom is so strict about sleepovers.”

Kyle’s smile dropped, if only for a second before he shook his head, “She’s just over protective. Sometimes it’s hard to blame her.”

“Fair enough,” Stan shrugged.

“Stanley, come here for a sec!” Stan’s mom called out, motioned for Kyle to join her at the front door. Kyle shot him an apologetic smile before walking over.

Kenny was frowning as he watched Kyle walk off, looking at Kyle with what Stan could only recognize as pity. “Dude, you good?” Stan asked.

Kenny jumped slightly, quickly turning back to Stan. “Uh, yeah, just…” he snagged another glimpse of Kyle, “Just remembered something. We should get back inside.”

Stan opened his mouth to protest, but Kenny was already on his way, walking into the house behind Kyle. Stan looked back at his mom’s car, as she drove off to the farm and sighed.

Guess things still weren’t as open between them as he once thought.

With a shake of his head, he ran up to the door, following the other two.

“-and make sure you boys get to bed at a reasonable time, alright Eric?” Liane was explaining as Stan walked into the living room, closing the front door behind him and taking off his shoes.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, Mom,” Kenny waved her off, “We’re going down to the basement, don’t bother us.”

“Alright, poopsiekins!” She called out as Kenny quickly left the conversation, making his way downstairs, with Stan and Kyle right behind him.

As they made their way down the stairs, Kyle laughed to himself, “Dude, do you remember that one time you called Mrs. Cartman hot?”

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” Kenny answered with disdain, his shoulders tensing up at the reminder, as Stan and Kyle snickered at him.

The basement was in the same state as Stan remembered from a few days ago, two bean bags dragged in front of the tv, mountains of boxes filled with old props and set pieces Cartman had built for the various play worlds he had run at his house, and the giant pile of video games that Kenny and Stan had “accidentally” knocked over looking for Mario Kart. What Cartman doesn’t know won’t hurt him.

Kenny walked over to one of the many boxes, this one labeled ‘Old Electronics’, and started digging through it. “Thought I saw this earlier- oh fuck yes!” he exclaimed after shuffling through a dozen or so keyboards and headsets, pulling out a video camera.

“Hate that that’s readily available,” Kyle murmured as Kenny ran across the room to one of the windows, it was one of those egress kinds that were only at the top of the wall, just barely able to see anything over the grass of the front lawn.

“Well, you should be grateful, otherwise, this would be way more difficult,” Kenny commented, dragging a chair over, and placing it underneath the window.

“What are you even doing, dude?” Stan asked, watching as he struggled to place the camera on the window ledge, with it being slightly out of reach even standing on the chair.

“I’m- fucking christ- setting up a way to monitor when Butters’ folks are leaving,” Kenny explained, managing to knock the camera onto the window ledge, “You two, move the tv!” he instructed as he ran back to the box.

Stan and Kyle shared a look, both perplexed at Kenny’s planning, but didn’t protest, working together to move the television closer to the window. As they dragged the coffee table it was on across the floor, Kenny ran back over to the camera, with a long HDMI cord, and popped back on the chair to plug in one end into the camera.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me, no way this works,” Stan scoffed, suddenly connecting the dots of what Kenny had planned.

“Ye of little faith,” Kenny smirked as he managed to plug the smaller HDMI end into the camera, jumping off the chair and grabbing the other end of the cable. It was just barely long enough to hit the tv’s HDMI port, and the camera shifted slightly as Kenny pulled on it to plug it in, but it didn’t fall off the ledge. He turned on the tv, and much to Stan’s surprise, the image that popped up was the feed from the camera, aimed as far over to Butters’ house as possible, but it still managed to catch the garage, with the Stotch family car parked in front. “What did I fucking tell you?”

“This… is incredibly worrisome,” Kyle said with a horrified look on his face, “Like, very Cartman-esc worrisome. When did you think of this?”

“When I got back here after school,” Kenny answered with a scowl, “Look, I don’t like it either, but would you rather we sit around and complain when evil genius ideas happen, or do something with it.”

“He makes a fair point,” Stan said. 

Kyle sighed in defeat. “Whatever, I guess. So what? We just wait for hours until they leave?” 

“Not like we have much of a choice,” Kenny shrugged, “Though, I guess only one of us has to watch the feed.”

Stan and Kyle side-eyed each other before they loudly declared in unison, “Not it!”

“Not- oh fuck you both!” Kenny flipped them off, dramatically turning the chair around so he could sit in front of the tv. Stan gave Kyle a less than subtle high-five as he laughed to himself at Kenny’s outburst.

“So… if the tv is the live feed, what the fuck are we gonna do?” Stan asked after a beat. Kyle’s face dropped, the realization also dawning on him.

“God-fucking-dammit,” he grumbled.

“Serves you right,” Kenny mumbled under his breath.

For the next couple of hours, the three of them switched who watched the feed, which Kyle had suggested after sitting around for half an hour. They eventually found cards for Uno, which did help pass the time, if only slightly.

“How are you winning when you can’t even look at your cards for more than two seconds?” Stan asked in both amazement and frustration as Kyle won the third round in a row, despite also being the one currently watching the video feed.

“It’s a game of luck, not skill,” Kenny pointed out.

“You’re only saying that because you ended that round with fifteen cards,” Kyle smirked.

“I’m sorry, do you have some type of Uno strategy?!” Kenny threw his cards to the ground, causing the discard pile to scatter even further across the floor, “You’re not that competitive!”

“It’s better than how you play. What idiot uses the plus four change color the second you get it in your hands?”

“The kind who pulled shit cards the entire game! I had no choice, don’t judge me for that!”

“Maybe we should stop playing,” Stan suggested, glancing once again at the clock. It was around eight in the evening. He was surprised that the Butters' parents hadn’t left earlier.

“Good idea, I’m getting antsy,” Kenny concurred, gathering up the cards, “You haven’t seen them walk outside, right?”

“I would say if I did,” Kyle grumbled, leaning forward, and propping his head in his hands, “The only way I know it’s not a still image is because the sun is setting.”

The mood was definitely low, all of the excitement and energy that was built at the end of school crushed as they waited, and waited, and waited for things to fall into place.

They had been sitting around for so long that they all jumped at the sound of Kenny’s phone ringing, Kyle’s contact flashing on the screen. Kenny grabbed the phone, putting it on speaker before answering, “Cartman, dude, where are you?”

“Waiting on you assholes! What’s taking so long?” Cartman asked over the line, clearly just as on edge as the rest of them. "I've just been here pacing for fucking hours, what gives?!"

“We're still waiting for them to leave, what do you think?” Kyle snapped back, shooting a glare at the phone, “No one said that you had to wait on us.”

“I thought that was the whole- oh, Jesus Christ, you should have made that more clear, Kyle!” Cartman complained.

Kyle rolled his eyes, sighing as he sank back into the chair, “How is it my fault that you misunderstood me?”

“Because your explanation was shit!”

“Be that as it may, we still don’t know how much longer we’ll have to wait,” Kenny interrupted the bickering, “Haven’t seen any signs of life so far.”

“Are you using the video camera?” Cartman asked.

“I hate that he knows that,” Kyle grumbled, “What the fuck is he using it for?”

“Yeah, it’s been pretty boring so far,” Stan answered, ignoring Kyle’s concern, “There’s not really much to do but wait.”

“Ugh! This is so stupid!” he complained, “You know what? Screw it! I'm coming over now.”

“What?” Kyle asked, all three of them sitting straighter, like it was more a threat than a declaration, “Cartman, my parents will for sure notice if you leave now.”

“Trust me, Kyle. I’ll be fine, don’t get your panties in a twist,” Cartman said, “Give me like five minutes.”

“Cartman, don’t-” Kenny tried to warn, but was cut off as Cartman hung up the phone, “That dumb son of a bitch.”

“If he gets me grounded, so help me, I will rip him a new one,” Kyle muttered under his breath.

“I wouldn’t be too worried about him,” Stan tried to reassure him, “He can be reckless, but he’s not completely stupid.”

“It’s not him I’m worried about,” Kyle sighed, “It’s my mom. It’s like she has eyes in the back of her head or something. I don’t need her calling up Mrs. Cartman, asking if I’m here because he decided to go out the front door.”

“You don’t think she would cover for you?” Stan asked, slightly confused.

Kyle’s shoulders tensed, face downcast, “Something tells me she’s not my biggest fan.”

“That and I didn’t mention Kyle coming over,” Kenny quickly tacked on, “Thought it would, I don’t know, cover more bases that way, risk less communication between parents.”

Stan scowled at him, “Still, why wouldn’t she be-”

“I gotta take a piss, can you cover me?” Kyle quickly interrupted, abruptly standing from the chair and heading up the stairs.

“Yeah, sure, no problem,” Stan weakly answered, eyes following Kyle. Once the door to the basement was closed, he looked back at Kenny, “What was that all about?”

Kenny didn’t answer right away, looking up at the stairwell with the same look he had given Kyle earlier, when they arrived back at the Cartman house. 

“Dude,” Stan nudged his shoulder, grabbing his attention, “Did you hear me?”

“Uh, yeah, ‘m not sure,” Kenny answered, light shaking his head, “You should check the camera.”

“Right,” Stan frowned, but still stood up, cautiously sitting down in the chair, as Kenny began collecting the scattered Uno cards that he had thrown around moments ago. The almost static image on the tv was unchanged from when Kyle left, leaving Stan with his thoughts. He looked between Kenny and the tv, finding it hard for his eyes to concentrate. “Do… Do you know something about Kyle that I don’t?” He asked.

Kenny paused, looking down at the mess of cards on the floor that he had yet to pick up. “What are you talking about?”

“You keep giving him this like, weird look,” Stan locked onto a specific blade of grass that the camera had auto-focused on, “Like… I don’t know, man. Maybe I’m looking too into things-”

“Hey, it’s all good,” Kenny cut him off, “I get it. It’s not really about Kyle, if that helps.”

Stan raised an eyebrow, “Then what is it?”

“Just about Cartman fucking things up,” Kenny explained, “The fight at lunch was… a bit of a wake up call, you know?”

Stan hummed in agreement. “Yeah, I guess. Is that really it?”

“Stan,” Kenny’s voice was stern, “Are you sure it’s me knowing something about Kyle that you’re really worried about?”

“Why are you dodging the question?” Stan asked, whipping around to look at Kenny.

“I’m not dodging shit!” Kenny exclaimed, “I just know you tend to make things overly complicated when it comes to Kyle. You wanna tell me that I’m wrong?”

Stan felt heat rush to his cheeks, and he turned back to the tv, crossing his arms. He hated how right Kenny was most of the time. It made it hard to be mad at him when he made very good points. “It’s nothing,” he sighed, “You’re right. I’m just getting in my own…” His voice trailed off as he caught movement on the camera, Butters’ parents walking out of the house and over to the car. “Holy shit, they’re leaving.”

“Wait, seriously?” Kenny scrambled to his feet, rushing over to Stan’s side. He managed to get over as they were closing the car doors, the headlights turning on and shining against the garage door. “Fuck yes! Let’s fucking go!” he exclaimed, shaking Stan’s shoulders, before making a mad dash for the stairs. He ran into Kyle, who was on his way back down, but didn’t stop, pushing past him with little care.

Kyle stumbled slightly, looking at Stan confused, “What just happened?”

“Butter’s parents left,” Stan explained, “Guess it’s go time.”

“Oh shit, that was fast,” Kyle made an immediate u-turn, and ascended the stairs, Stan close behind him. Once they made it to the ground floor, Mrs. Cartman was nowhere to be seen- thank god- and Kenny was haphazardly putting his shoes back on.

Stan and Kyle shared a look, both debating if they should say something, but decided against it, following Kenny’s suit, but at a much more reasonable pace.

Kenny didn’t even bother waiting for Stan and Kyle to be ready, and made a rush for the door the second his shoes were on, throwing the door open only to get jump-scared by Cartman, who was standing outside, hand extended to knock. He jumped just as bad as Kenny did.

“Jesus Christ! What the fuck, dude?!” Cartman exclaimed.

“Damn, you’re timing is fucking impeccable,” Kenny muttered, about to push past Cartman before he stopped himself. “Shit, nope, wrong door,” he said before turning on his heels to go out the sliding door of the kitchen. Cartman looked at Kenny, and then at Stan and Kyle with a raised eyebrow.

“What the fuck is going on with him?” he asked, walking into the house.

“I wish I knew,” Kyle grumbled, “I think he’s just excited to see Butters.” He stood up, about to follow Kenny out when he paused, looking at Cartman. “You’re not… where’s my hat?”

Cartman’s face fell, hand reaching up to his head like he didn’t realize he wasn’t wearing it. To be fair to him, Stan only really clocked it after Kyle had pointed it out, but he did wonder why Cartman would take it off, or at the very least why he seemed so surprised at Kyle pointing it out. Though, Stan would admit it was nice to see Kyle’s hair. 

“I was just... in a hurry,” Cartman muttered, “Not like it’ll make much of a difference either way.”

“I guess,” Kyle agreed, but narrowed his eyes in suspicion before following Kenny’s path to the backyard. Stan expected Cartman to complain or call Kyle neurotic for noticing something so small, but watching him as Kyle left, Stan didn’t know what to make of the face Cartman was making. The only emotion he could really place was… longing? No, that didn’t feel right.

“You good?” Stan asked, causing Cartman to jump once again.

“Jesus, when the hell did you get here?!” He snapped, frantically looking around like there might be someone else hiding.

Stan scowled, “I’ve been here the whole time. Why are you looking at Kyle like that?”

“Like what? I was looking at him in a normal way,” Cartman crossed his arms, glaring at Stan as his voice cracked, “If anything, you’re the one who looks at him weird.”

“Right,” Stan rolled his eyes, and stood up, “That’s why you’re deflecting.”

“Ay! I’m not…” He began to argue, but midway through some thought must have crossed his mind, and he looked less pissed off and more confused, “Did you… did you die or something?”

Stan’s eyes widened, his skin crawling at the reminder, “Wait, you remember?”

“Holy shit, you did!” he exclaimed, “Oh god, that’s so weird. I didn't- or I guess I don't. I just remember that you weren’t on the bus after school. How did you die? Did you get shot or something?”

“What? No!” Stan shook his head, “I… the bus ran me over.”

Cartman winced in sympathy, “Yikes, that sounds painful.”

“It… yeah, it was,” Stan rubbed his arm, a phantom wave of pain running through his body as the memory flashed in his mind, “I almost didn’t remember, but Kenny was able to kind of jump start my memory.”

“Huh, weird,” Cartman looked Stan up and down, “Wonder why you won’t remember in his body.”

Stan shrugged, “Beats me, I know less than you and Kenny.”

“Oh, I don’t know shit,” Cartman laughed to himself, “Knowing that he dies all the time is different than knowing why.”

“It’s not like he knows why, either,” Stan pointed out.

“Eh, sounds like a Kenny problem,” Cartman waved him away, and started to walk over to the kitchen to follow the other two.

God, no wonder Kenny was so desperate for Stan to remember, it wasn’t like Cartman was much help in supporting him after he died. Also explains why he got so emotional at Stan’s request. Shaking his head in disappointment, Stan followed Cartman out of the house.

Kenny and Kyle were standing by the fence, gauging the height and talking amongst themselves as Stan and Cartman approached.

“Okay, we got a game plan?” Stan asked.

“We should be able to get over the fence with a boost, and then whoever is left on the other side could get pulled up by the others,” Kyle answered, “Anyone game to go first?”

“I don’t mind,” Stan stepped forward, rolling up the sleeves of the parka he was wearing, “It’s not like scaling the side of the school.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Kyle blinked, “When did you do that?”

“Oh, uh, Wednesday, it was no big deal,” Stan answered, but that only seemed to worry Kyle further.

Kenny cleared his throat, “We can talk about this later, it’s not like anything bad happened.”

“I mean, I almost fe-”

“Nope, nothing bad happened,” Kenny interrupted, already taking a knee, “Let’s go, dude.”

Stan sighed, cautiously stepping onto Kenny’s hands, and grabbing hold of the top of the fence. As Kenny gave him the boost up, he pushed himself up with the momentum, now able to get his foot atop the fence and swing his body to the other side, before dropping to the ground. He stumbled only slightly as landed, his hands thankfully spared from any splinters due to his gloves. He looked around the Stotch's backyard, looking for any cameras or any motion sensors, but there was nothing he could see.

“All clear!” He called out to the others. There was some shuffling, and he soon saw Kyle’s hands in a similar position to his on the fence. He took a few steps back, and Kyle landed in front of him, his fall down slightly more graceful than Stan’s.

Cartman was a different story. Stan could hear him and Kenny arguing about something, and it seemed to take him a couple of tries to pull himself up, but once he managed, he was stuck, one foot bent awkwardly under his body, but atop the fence, his hands gripping for dear life to the fence as his body leaned slightly backwards.

“You have to swing your legs over,” Kyle instructed, scowling up at Cartman, “Why are you making this harder than it is?”

“It’s not as easy as you made it look, Kyle!” Cartman complained, “You’re too short for this!”

“I’m not-” Kyle groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Kenny, can you just push him over?”

“Ay! You better not fucking push-” Cartman started to yell, but before could finish, Kenny took Kyle’s instruction, and Cartman yelped as he went tumbling head first over the fence, landing hard on his chest. Both Stan and Kyle winced at the fall, Cartman groaning in pain, “Son of a bitch.”

Kyle sighed, rolling his eyes, but helped pull Cartman up by his arm, much to Stan’s (and frankly Cartman’s) surprise. “You’ll be fine, stop whining,” he said once Cartman was back on his feet.

Cartman blinked at him, eyes wide, before quickly turning his head, shoving Kyle’s hand off of him and wiping the dirt off his jacket, “Still fucking hurt.” Stan wasn’t too sure, but he could have sworn that Cartman was blushing. The light from the setting sun made it hard to tell, but after Cartman deflecting Stan’s earlier question, and other weird things he’s done this week, Stan was having a hard time just attributing it to him being embarrassed. Regardless, Kyle didn’t seem to notice, already turning back to Stan.

“I’ll give you a boost up, if you wanna grab Kenny’s hand,” He offered.

“Honestly, another hand would be more helpful,” Stan joked.

“Ha ha, you’re so funny,” Cartman spat as monotone as he could muster, crossing his arms as he turned away from them.

Kyle rolled his eyes again, and dropped a knee, folding his hands together for Stan to use as a boost. Stan grabbed the top of the fence once again, the boost helping pull himself up, propping his right foot on the fence before he leaned over.

“Alright, just give me your hand and I’ll-” Stan began to explain, his voice quickly dropping out as he noticed Kenny was missing from the other side. “Kenny? Where’d you go?”

As soon as he spoke up, the door to the fence swung open, Kenny waltzing through, looking slightly guilty. “So, uh, I forgot this was here,” he explained, slightly embarrassed.

“So I fell off the fence for nothing!” Cartman exclaimed as Stan dropped back down.

“Not completely, it brought me immense joy to watch.”

“Yeah, no shit! You’re the one who pushed me over!”

“This is why it took us a fucking week,” Kyle grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Can you two focus up for one minute?!”

“No, he fucking pushed me off the fence!” Cartman accused, his face now clearly red from anger.

“You can return the favor later,” Kenny offered, somewhat sarcastically, which only made Cartman more pissed, but he dropped the fight and the four of them turned their attention back to Butters’ house. All of the lights were off, save for one room on the second story, Butters’ room. Thank god, he was still awake.

“Butters!” Kenny yelled up, cupping his hands around his mouth in some attempt to make himself louder, “Butters, open the window!”

“There’s no way he can hear us,” Cartman shook his head.

“Shit, you’re right,” Kenny sighed, desperately looking around the backyard, “There’s gotta be some- ah ha!” he exclaimed as he found what he was looking for, rushing over to the small garden and picking up a handful of small rocks. Stan gave him a look, eyebrow raised, but Kenny only scowled, “I don’t wanna hear shit about this.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Stan pointed out, a shit-eating grin spreading onto his face, as Kenny walked around a small patch of the yard, trying to find the best distance. He tossed one of the rocks in his hands, gauging its weight.

“Are you sure that’s not gonna break the window?” Kyle asked, looking back and forth between the Stotch household and the rock in Kenny’s hand.

“Shouldn't be that bad, it's just one rock,” Kenny smirked, throwing the rock with more force than Stan would think necessary. It soared in the air, hitting the window to Butter’s room with a resounding thud, causing all four of them to flinch at the loud noise. “Oh shit.” Kenny muttered as it landed back on the ground with another thud. “Okay, in hindsight, those might have been a little too big.”

“Great, now someone’s gonna call the police on us,” Kyle groaned.

“Didn’t you say you’ve done this before?” Stan asked.

“I didn’t say that! You all just assumed! I was just taking the idea you offered!” Kenny yelled back. Before any more of them could argue with Kenny, a shadow passed by the window, and Butters appeared in view, looking at them in surprise. As subtly as he could, Kenny shoved the remaining rocks into Stan’s hands, not giving Stan any time to protest as Butters opened the window.

“What are you fellas doing there?” Butters asked, calling down to them in somewhat of a whisper, like he was afraid of getting caught. In his defense, he was freshly grounded, so that fear was warranted.

“We got your text!” Kenny answered, “Your parents left like five minutes ago.”

“Oh, I didn’t think- I mean, I guess I did offer…” Butters frowned as his voice trailed off, before quickly shaking his head, “You really need the manual that badly?”

“Do you have it or not?!” Cartman snapped, earning him a punch on the arm from Kyle.

“Well, uh, yeah I do,” Butters answered, looking back into his bedroom and then back to them, “But, well, it’s kinda… It’s just a bunch of loose pieces of paper right now. I-I don’t know if I should just throw that down.”

“Of fucking course,” Cartman grumbled, “Always gotta be something that keeps us from just-”

“Will you stop complaining, at least he’s done something,” Kyle interrupted, sighing before he shouted back up at Butters, “Can you come down and let us in?”

Butters face lit up. “Oh yeah! Give me a sec,” he exclaimed and quickly ran away from the window.

“Jesus Christ, this is fucking ridiculous” Cartman muttered as he crossed his arms, utterly unimpressed.

“Shut up, Cartman,” Stan and Kyle said in unison.

It was only seconds later when Butters came back to the window, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. “So, uhh, my door’s kinda locked,” he explained.

“Your parents locked your door?!” Kenny asked in a mix of shock and concern.

“That seems incredibly unsafe, grounded or not,” Kyle muttered under his breath.

“This is just great!” Cartman exclaimed, “How the hell are we supposed to get up to him now?!”

Butters looked down at them, eyebrows upturned in pity, “Aw jeez, I’m real sorry, fellas,” he apologized.

There was a collective sigh of defeat, and looking at the group, they all looked a little scattered. Maybe they had talked about this before, but if Stan’s memories were fuzzy after dying, he imagined parts of the plan may have slipped through the cracks. 

After a few seconds, Kenny’s eyes lit up in realization, and he grabbed hold of Stan’s shoulder. “The rope,” Kenny whispered through gritted teeth, pointedly not looking at him, “Remind him about the rope.”

Stan scowled, looking over at him, “What are you talking-”

“The rope I mentioned earlier, I’m not supposed to know about it but you do, fucking suggest it!” Kenny interrupted, his voice still low so Butters wouldn’t hear him.

Still somewhat thrown off, Stan turned his attention back to the window, “Uh, Butters?” he gave one last unsure look to Kenny, who only urged him to continue with a simple hand gesture, “Don’t you have that… that rope thing?”

“Rope thing?” Kenny’s face dropped as he quietly questioned Stan’s word choice.

“I don’t remember what you called it, cut me some slack!” Stan argued back as quietly as he could muster.

“What are ya-” Butters cut himself off as he had a similar light bulb moment as Kenny, his eyebrows raised as it came to him, “Oh, that’s right! Just hold on down there!” He rushed back away from the window, and Stan could hear some shuffling of things in his room.

“Okay, that solves one thing,” Kyle said, sounding slightly relieved, “But… I’ve been thinking-”

“Uh oh, that’s never good,” Cartman joked, getting a slap on the arm from Kenny in response.

“Maybe it might be worth it to have Butters tag along,” Kyle suggested.

‘What?! Are you fucking serious?” Cartman asked in disbelief, “How the fuck would that be a good idea?”

“Look man, he’s had this manual all day, if he’s looked at it, he might have a better idea of how to use the controls than we would once we make it up to the lab,” Kyle explained, crossing his arms over his chest, “I’m not saying that we have to, I’m just… throwing it out there.”

“That sounds reasonable to me,” Kenny shrugged, eyes drifting over to the open window.

“Yeah, no shit, you’re biased!” Cartman argued, but Kenny just flipped him off, “We’re gonna have a hard enough time sneaking over there with the four of us, and you want Butters to tag along?”

“It was literally just a suggestion,” Kyle sighed, “I don’t get why you have to fight me on everything.”

“I’m not fighting!” Cartman snapped, “I’m just-” he groaned, dragging his hands down his face, “We are making this more complicated than it already is.”

“Let’s just see how much he knows,” Stan offered, “We can make a call then. Does that make everyone happy?”

Kyle and Kenny nodded, both looking at Cartman for his response. With a sigh, he said, “Fine by me.”

“Alright fellas!” Butters called out, holding the rope all bundled up in his arms, “Throwing it down!” He tossed the pile out of the window, and it unraveled nicely, the end landing a few inches from the ground. It was how Stan had pictured, a bunch of sheets and blankets tied together, that reminded him of one of the climbing ropes in gym class.

“How sturdy is this thing?” Stan asked as they all approached the house.

“It’s held up pretty good,” Kenny grabbed hold, tugging on it slightly. The knots were pretty secure, not budging from the force. “Haven’t died yet,” he joked.

“Don’t joke about that dude, this is serious,” Kyle scowled at Kenny. 

Kenny shrugged, offering the rope to Stan, “After you.”

Stan took off his glove before grabbing hold of the rope, hoping that it would give him a better grip on the fabric. The last thing he needed to do right now was fall and get himself killed in Kenny’s body again . Two times in one day would be overkill. He opted to not climb the rope itself, but rather use it for support as he walked up the side of the house. It felt slightly more secure, but nothing about this ordeal was particularly OSHA approved. Once he made it to the window, Butters was already there, hand outstretched for Stan to take once he got close, and helped pull him inside of the room. He tripped over himself slightly as he tried to not just fall on top of Butters, who smiled at him warmly.

“Thanks,” Stan said, awkwardly stepping away as he heard one of the others begin their ascent.

“It's no big deal. I almost forgot I had this, good thinking,” Butters complimented him.

Stan laughed to himself, “Yeah, no problem.” He didn't want to take too much credit. Especially since he wasn’t the one who had thought about it.

Kyle and Cartman had very little issues coming up, though Cartman did slip a bit before hitting the window. Kenny was the one who struggled the most. He was probably more used to this in his own body, but he didn’t have his normal muscle memory. It was the same reason as to why Stan had no issues. By the time he reached the window, he looked pissed off at himself, and even with a hand from Butters and Kyle to pull him inside, he crashed onto the floor with about as much poise as he could muster, breathing heavily.

“That was so much worse than the last time,” He muttered to himself quietly, and Stan offered him a hand up, which he quickly took. After dusting himself off, he turned to Butters. “The… the manual,” Kenny panted out, holding out his hand expectantly. Butters blinked at him, glancing between Kenny’s hand and his face, before quickly remembering why they had climbed up here in the first place.

“Oh, right!” he walked over to his desk, picking up a rather large pile of papers, being held by a very stretched out paperclip, “Sorry, about that.”

“I’m just surprised you managed to find it,” Kenny grabbed the pile from Butters’ hands. In just looking over the first page, his face dropped, “This is… oh boy, that's a small font size.”

“Yeah, it’s a bit long-winded, doesn’t look like it was peer-reviewed,” Butters agreed.

“So, you’ve already read through this?” Kyle asked, meeting Stan’s eyes with vindication.

“Oh yeah, I didn’t have much else to do all day,” Butters shrugged, “I hope that was fine by you, I just wanted-”

“No, no, you didn’t do anything wrong,” Kenny quickly cut off his self-doubt, “Actually, you have just helped us out a lot more than you think.”

“Whaddaya mean?” Butters asked, tilting his head to the side.

“Look, this is gonna sound a little weird, but we need you to come with us to Mephesto’s lab, and figure out how to use this machine,” Kenny explained.

Butters’ eyes nearly popped out of his head, “What?! Like, come with you now? Aw jeez, I-I dunno, I don’t want to get in more trouble-”

“Listen Butters, I wouldn’t ask if we weren’t desperate,” Kenny interrupted, grabbing him by the shoulders, “But we don’t really have the luxury of waiting and since you’ve read the manual, you’ve got a better shot than any of us at turning it on.”  Butters’ eyebrows pursed together, looking between all four of them in uncertainty, which Kenny clocked instantly. “Please, Butters. I swear, I’ll make it up to you.”

Butters bit his lip, and his eyes flicked down to the floor as he thought the offer over. With a sigh, he looked back up at Kenny, and answered, “I guess I can, so long as we’re not out all night and my parents won’t find out.”

Kenny laughed in relief, squeezing Butters in a hug, “Thank you, Butters. You won’t regret this.”

Butters smiled as he accepted the hug, “Of course, Ken.”

Stan’s stomach dropped fast, immediately locking eyes with Kyle, who was in a similar state of panic. Kenny’s eyes opened at the same speed at which Stan’s face fell, quickly releasing Butters from the hug to look at him. “What… what did you just call me?”

Butters’ eyes widened, realizing what he had said. “I, uh, I was, um, you see I- well, it was just a, uh…” he stammered out, voice quiet, but he quickly gave up, “Aw hamburgers.”

“You’ve got to be shitting me, Butters figured it out!” Cartman exclaimed, “Fucking Butters?! God- fucking -dammit!” 

Kenny looked like he might just throw himself out of the window, “How did you- when did you-”

“I wasn’t trying to ruin anything you fellas had planned!” Butters put his hands out in front of him, like he was expecting them to physically fight him, “I just… Well, ya had me looking into that Electron Swap device, and a lot of the research Mephesto did mentioned an experiment where the subjects swapped bodies. And then I started to think about it a bit more, how you all have been acting kinda… kinda weird, and then… then it clicked.”

“Un-fucking-believable,” Cartman grumbled, crossing his arms.

“Oh, don’t act surprised that people caught on, you were going around basically begging for people to ask what was up with you,” Kyle shot back.

“He didn’t say it was my fault!” Cartman argued. Stan looked at Butters, who quickly turned his attention away from Cartman, guilt written across his face, which only made Cartman more pissed off. “Oh, you can go fuck yourself!”

“So when,” Kenny swallowed hard, and Stan suddenly remembered the deal he’d made with Butters at the top of the week- promising that date with himself- and Kenny’s nerves started to make more sense, “When did you figure it out?”

“Yesterday,” Butters answered honestly, twiddling his thumbs, “I’m real sorry, Ken, I wasn’t trying to pull one over on you guys or anything.”

“No, I’m not- It’s really fine, Butters,” Kenny’s voice was soft, dropping the aggression he’d be channeling when he was trying to sound like Cartman, “I- Look, I know I said a lot of stuff this week as Cartman, and I just want to make clear-”

“How’d ya think I figured it out?” Butters asked, putting his hand on top of Kenny’s, “All that reassuring you did, I… it was real sweet of ya.”

Kenny’s face blushed bright red, “Thanks, I… you really don’t-”

“Oh my god, can you stop doing this gay shit in my body?” Cartman interrupted.

While Butters instantly backed away, his own face now dusted pink, Kenny turned to scowl at him, “Like you’re one to-” Cartman’s face flushed again, his face quickly turning into a frown as Kenny stopped himself.

Kyle scowled, “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“It’s fucking nothing, shut up Kyle!” Cartman yelled. Stan looked back at Kenny, who only shook his head at him, as if to say, ‘Not fucking worth it, dude.’ Oh god, was this the thing Kenny was talking about? The thing he was worried about that may or may not have something to do with Kyle? But if Kenny was implying when Stan thought he was implying-

He laughed to himself in disbelief. No, no, that couldn’t be it. Cartman was… Cartman . The idea that he would be- god, he didn’t even know what to think. It all seemed too far fetched.

Kyle was still pretty lost. “Are you referencing something that happen or-”

“It was just a joke, let’s not get into it,” Kenny explained, but his swiftness to cut off Kyle confirmed Stan's doubts that wasn’t the case. “We’re wasting time just standing here, we should get going.”

“Kenny’s right, let’s just go,” Cartman turned on his heels, walking over to the door of the bedroom.

Stan frowned, “Dude, that door’s lock-”

“The door’s locked, yep, I remembered that,” he made a u-turn before hitting the door, storming past all of them to descend the rope back to the yard.

“So, uh, what is the plan?” Butters asked, looking between the three of them that were still in the room.

“Cartman knows a way into the lab that should get us past the ground security,” Kyle explained, “He says there is some kind of passage that’ll get us back up to the area with the Electron Swap device, and if you’re able to get it on, the four of us can swap back.”

“Huh, that sounds pretty easy,” Butters looked less worried then he did when he had signed onto the trip, “How are we getting up to the lab this late?”

“Cartman has some spare bikes in his garage,” Stan answered, “It’ll be a long trip, but not as long if we were going on foot.”

“Oh boy, so, we’ll be out there for a while, huh?” Butters grabbed his jacket off the back of his desk chair.

“However long it takes to get us back to normal,” Kenny sighed, “Look, I know we’re asking a lot from you-”

“You don’t have to keep explaining yourself,” Butters cut him off, “I’ve already done so much work on this, I really just wanna help you fellas out.”

His reassurance seemed to lighten Kenny’s mood, and he smiled back at Butters. “I don’t think I can thank you enough.”

“Well, you do have your end of the bargain to keep up,” Butters reminded him, patting him on the chest before following Cartman’s lead down the side of the house.

“Damn, that was bold of him,” Stan muttered to Kyle, watching as Kenny stood in the center of the room, face red and completely at a loss for words.

“I don’t know why I didn’t think it was reciprocated,” Kyle added, shaking his head slightly, “Gotta admit, I’m happy for him. He deserves this.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Stan agreed, moving closer to the window with Kyle, “Is it weird to say I’m a little jealous?”

Kyle laughed sharply, “Oh don’t tell me you like Butters now.”

“What, dude no!” Stan shoved Kyle’s arm, shaking his head in disbelief, “I meant more, he threw himself out there and it worked out perfectly, you know?”

“Yeah… I know,” Kyle looked wistfully out the window, “He’s pretty brave in that respect.”

“He sure is,” Stan sighed. He wished he could do the same. To just be open about his feelings for Kyle without the fear that everything the two of them had built over the years wouldn't just immediately crumble from the awkwardness of rejection. “So, are you ready to swap back?”

Kyle looked over at Stan, a too-familiar smile spreading across his face, making Stan’s heart race, “More than ever.”

Chapter Text

Kyle’s nerves were unsurprisingly at an all time high. He had thought everything through three- now four- times, and despite all his overthinking, he couldn’t help but stress as the five of them made their way to Mephesto’s lab. He hadn’t done something this reckless and deranged in a long time, not since elementary school.

There were a lot of things that were still up to chance. Guard schedules, new security measures, and not to mention if the Electron Swap machine still worked. Lots of things to eat away at Kyle’s anxiety. It was getting to the point where he wasn’t sure if he was even desperate enough to continue with this absolute lack of a plan they were going into this with.

But his friends were counting on him as much as he was counting on them. And it was far too late to turn back now.

As they all dismounted their bikes about 100 feet away from the iron gates of Mephesto’s lab, Kyle’s overwhelming anxieties were starting to make his skin crawl.

“Is it me, or does the lab look more haunted than it used to?” Stan asked as they all walked their bikes over to a bush on the nearby trail, hiding them from any cars or people who would be driving up the main road.

“This place always gives me the heebeegeebees,” Butters muttered, eyes frantically scanning the surrounding woods.

“It’ll be alright, Butters,” Kenny gave him a supportive pat on the shoulder, “I’ve got you if anything happens.”

Cartman audibly gagged as Butters blushed and turned his face from Kenny, “Oh my god, you two are unbearable.” Kenny just flipped him off.

“Are you just gonna insult those two or are you gonna get us inside?” Kyle snapped, crossing his arms in annoyance. 

With a very pointed eye roll, Cartman sighed, “Just follow my lead.” He motioned with his head as they walked closer to the gates. Before they hit the edge of the tree clearing, he held out his arm, stopping them in their tracks, and pointed to the camera mounted atop the fence. “Not closer than this,” he warned, and took them to the left, cutting through the woods as they continued along the fence line. 

“Aren’t there supposed to be guards?” Kyle asked in a whisper.

“Usually just one at the gate, not sure where they all are,” Cartman answered, carefully maneuvering around foliage and avoiding stepping on branches.

“I think it was a budget cut thing,” Butters piped up.

“Fucking figures,” Cartman grumbled, pushing branches away from their path. Kyle couldn’t help but wonder if this would be the path they would have to take back when they left. The trail wasn’t obvious, and Cartman himself seemed unsure how far they needed to travel, constantly checking the fence line before continuing forward. The last thing Kyle wanted to do was get lost in the woods at one in the fucking morning, or whenever they managed to get out.

If they got out.

Kyle really shouldn’t be thinking like that.

“There we go!” Cartman exclaimed after a few more minutes of travel, quickly diverting from their makeshift path in the forest and back to the fence. It wasn’t hard to spot why Cartman made them stop, the large ventilation grate creating a hole in the brick fence was hard to ignore. Cautiously, Kyle and the others followed him, Kyle in particular looking around for possible cameras along the fence, but he came up empty as Cartman started pulling on the grate that led to some kind of duct. “Sonnofabitch this used to be easier,” he grumbled as he pulled once more before he managed to rip it off, taking very loose screws along with it.

“I’m sorry, this is how you got in all those times?” Kenny asked, “What? Was the sewer system not easy enough to access.”

“I know you’re being a dick, but no, it wasn’t,” Cartman shot back, giving him a glare over his shoulder as he set the grate along the fence, “This’ll take us to the south wing of the lab. It gets pretty narrow, so we’ll have to go one by one.”

“The south wing?” Stan repeated, “I thought that area was closed off, why are we going there?”

Cartman groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Look, this is the way I know how to get in, alright!? Either you can follow me, or take your chances at the front gate. Choice is yours!”

Kyle and Stan exchanged worried glances, which gave Kyle some solace knowing they were on the same page. With a sigh, Kyle motioned forward, “Fine. Lead the way, dude.”

He would have imagined Cartman feeling smug that they had no choice but to follow him, but he seemed more resigned to his role as tour guide through the ventilation duct. Hell, Kyle didn’t think he had heard a single ‘I told you so’ from him since that fight they had in the hallway, and even then, it had sounded more like he was proving it to himself rather than the group. Kyle thought back to that conversation they had in the bathroom, where Cartman had opened up to him. Maybe… maybe that empathy was starting to affect his interactions with everyone, not just Kyle. 

That thought was immediately contradicted by remembering exactly why they had that conversation to begin with.

It was a nice sentiment, but Cartman was… well, Cartman. It was probably gonna take a lot more than a week long body swap to change anything for good. But Kyle didn’t mind settling for mildly better than normal. Progress was still progress.

The five of them were deadly silent as they traversed the vent. Every so often, Kyle would look back to Stan and Kenny, trying to read if they were just as on edge as he was. Stan would always offer the same supportive smile, while Kenny would just shrug. He couldn’t ever really catch Butters’ attention for long enough, but he could only guess he was starting to regret his decision to join them the further in they walked. Not that Kyle blamed him, he was feeling the same way right about now. His sense of time was already pretty shitty, but once they weren’t outside, he had lost track of just how long they had been walking. Not to beat a dead horse, but were they seriously going to have to go back this same way undetected??

“Jesus Christ, this thing goes on forever!” Kenny exclaimed as they got to a bend in the path, the sudden loud sound causing Kyle’s heart rate to spike.

“It’s not been that long,” Stan tried to reason with him, but the exhaustion of the day they all had was clearly setting in. Kyle felt it too, and walking around a metal maze with dark, dim lighting was not necessarily helping the situation.

Kenny huffed, “Cartman, please tell me we’re getting close, I’m gonna lose it.”

Cartman, who hadn’t stopped upon Kenny’s earlier declaration, turned on his heels, gesturing dramatically in the direction the path was turning, “Well, it’s a good thing we’re here then.”

“Fucking finally,” Kyle grumbled as the group turned the corner, their pace now faster given the motivation that they had made it. The end of the vent looked not too dissimilar to the entrance, the metal slats this time angled such that he couldn’t make out what room they would emerge in, but light was still able to shine through.

As they got closer, Kyle could make out the off-white tiles of the floor of the lab, and what he could only assume was broken glass. As memories of the last time he was in this part of the lab started flooding back, the reason as to why this area had been closed off during the tour was starting to make a bit more sense.

“Is the grate supposed to be closed up on this side?” Kyle asked as they got closer.

“Yeah, otherwise it would be too obvious,” Cartman scoffed, putting his hand out in front of him, “But the screws are pretty loose, so it should just-” he was forcibly cut off as he ran face first into the grate, the metal not budging as he walked into in, clearly having expecting to it fall.

Stan laughed, quickly covering his mouth as Cartman shot him a glare. Kyle didn’t fight back the smug smile that forced itself on his face. It was still nice seeing him get his comeuppance every once in a while.

“Aw, shit,” Cartman cursed, rubbing his face, “Mephesto must have fixed this up at some point.” He put his hands on the grate, pushing with all his might, feet sliding back from the amount of force he was using. “God, your upper body strength fucking sucks, Kyle,” he grumbled as he continued to push against the grate.

Kyle scowled, about to snap at him for using the same insult once again, when Kenny piped up from the back of the line, “It’s not like yours is any better.”

“Shut up Kenny!” Cartman spat, whipping around to face him with a scowl on his face, “It’s harder than it looks! They must have put the screws back in or something.”

“Then pushing against it isn’t gonna do shit!” Kenny shot back, “You gotta have some force behind it.”

“Like you’ve broken into buildings before!”

Kenny scowled, “Yeah, actually, I have. With you, dumbass.”

Cartman’s face fell, “Oh, right.” He cleared his throat as he turned around. “Here goes nothing,” he muttered, shaking out his arms before he ran towards the grate, slamming into it shoulder first. There was a loud clang as Cartman made contact, but it was just as stuck as it had been.

Rubbing his shoulder, Cartman's glare hardened, and he slammed his body up against the vent again, but it still didn’t budge.

“For fucks sake- Here, let me,” Kyle walked up to the front, pushing Cartman off to the side. He didn’t protest, much to Kyle’s surprise.

He rolled his shoulders, hoping this wouldn’t bruise Stan’s body too badly, before ramming into the vent with a running start. The metal slats hurt as he hit them, but he had used enough force to loosen the screws, and it separated from the wall, by at least an inch or two. “One more time,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, stepping back again to have the same running start. 

Rushing the bars once again, the impact wasn’t as harsh. Mostly because Kyle went tumbling as the vent entrance came loose and he fell to the floor on top of it.

“Kyle! Are you okay?” Stan quickly rushed forward, offering him a hand up, and frantically checking him for injuries. Kyle took Stan's hand, stumbling slightly as he got to his feet. Putting his own hand at his side, he couldn't help but grimace at the tenderness where his body had landed, no doubt it would bruise by tomorrow.

“I think I’m good,” he managed to squeak out, “Sorry about that.”

“I’m sure I’ll manage,” Stan laughed, “One bruise is fine in the grand scheme of things.”

Kyle smiled as Cartman moved past the two of them, his phone flashlight out and scanning the room they had burst into.

“Weird, I thought Mephesto would have had this place repaired ages ago,” Cartman muttered as the flashlight caught jagged edges of broken glass ceiling pieces above them. Kyle had to agree, the greenhouse had sure seen better days. Alongside the shattered ceiling, the plants that were still in the room were either extremely overgrown or wilted and dead, and the white floor had lost it's sheen.

“In one of his emails, he mentioned a lot of his grant funding got pulled over the years,” Butters said, looking around the abandoned greenhouse, “He’s probably prioritizing his money, and so long as he doesn’t open this up to the public, he doesn’t need to fix it.”

“I’m sure the broken ceiling just drives up the heating bill,” Kenny grumbled, “You think he’d at least patch that up.”

“Given his experiments, I doubt his priorities are that rational,” Kyle pointed out, “How do we get to the rest of the building?”

“Oh, that part’s easy,” Cartman scoffed, “Since we’re in one of the main floor exhibits, we just gotta get back out to the lobby work backwards from the tour.”

Kyle and Stan shared a look. “Are you fucking kidding me?” Kyle asked, sighing heavily, “Your big genius plan is to just run around the building until we find the exhibit room?”

“Ay! I got us in here undetected, that was all I promised I could do!” Cartman argued.

“With how much you were bitching about us not listening to you, I thought you would have at least thought it through a little bit more!” Kyle yelled, throwing his hands up as he began to pace the greenhouse, “Jesus Christ, dude, how the hell did you get around here before?”

“Correction, I wasn’t the one who was moving around, Mitch Conner was given access because he was working with Mephesto,” Cartman explained- unfortunately for Kyle- deadly serious. 

Kyle’s eye twitched, the sparse amount of composure he had finally dissipating, “If you keep bringing up Mitch Conner, I’m gonna kick your ass-” He started to rush Cartman, only to be held back by Stan, who grabbed hold of his arm with a strong grip.

“Dude, chill,” He warned, “We’re so close, leave it.”

“But he-”

“I know, but he’s not gonna admit to anything at this point.”

“I’m right fucking here!” Cartman exclaimed, scowling at the two of them.

“No, no, I’m with Kyle on this,” Kenny spoke up, “You were the one who wanted to go here this badly, the least you could have done was actually figure out a way to get to the lab.” Cartman’s mouth fell open in shock and disbelief as they all turned on him one by one.

Butters, who had been relatively quiet during their spat, cleared his throat, “Wait, I thought you fellas said you had a plan?”

“Okay, okay, fucking fine!” Cartman groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Since you want a more thorough plan, I’ll give you a fucking plan. Butters, did you see any emails or documents about guard schedules?”

“Oh, um, yeah, I think I did,” Butters jumped at being called to attention, “They’re on a bit of a skeleton crew right now because of budget-”

“Budget cuts, right, you brought that up earlier,” Cartman finished, “Okay, anything else?”

“Uhh, they’re on some sort of rotation schedule so they can cover as much of the building as possible,” Butters bit his lip, deep in thought, “And, uh, I wanna say that there’s some kind of alarm system in the building, but I coulda misread that part.”

Cartman hummed, stroking his chin in thought, his brow furrowed. “That alarm system must be room dependent if nothing got set off when we walked in here. We’ll need to find some kind of computer hooked up to the building to turn that off.”

“There’s probably one of those at the front desk,” Stan thought out loud, “Where we got our badges for the tour.”

“Perfect,” Cartman snapped his fingers as he pointed at Stan, the gears in his head turning, “We’re on the same floor as the entrance so we should be able to get there from the main lobby.”

“And we can just wait for whatever guard is around to walk by and then we can sneak over there,” Kenny finished, laughing to himself at just how simple it really was. There was a beat before he frowned, and turned back to Cartman, “But what if the alarm goes off when we get to the front desk?”

“Then we just make a run for it,” Cartman answered, like that was obvious, “Alarm’s already going, might as well just go to where we were heading.”

Kyle’s insides were turning, the stress from all the pressure and hastiness of the plan making him feel nauseous, “There’s got to be another way.”

“Oh sure, Kyle, let’s just sit around for an hour and have an open discussion about what the best way to go about this is,” Cartman’s voice was dripping with sarcasm, quickly snapping back to his usual sneer, “Be fucking for real! I know that if we don’t cross the t’s and dot the i’s you’re gonna have an aneurysm, but I thought you wanted to fucking end this!”

“I do!” Kyle shot back.

“Then fucking act like it and follow my lead!” With one final exclamation, Cartman began to storm off towards the lobby. Kyle glanced back at the others and was met with a mix of emotions. Stan and Butters seemed a bit more sympathetic, at least compared to Kenny, who didn’t even meet Kyle’s eyes before walking off after Cartman.

“We’ve gotten this far,” Stan sighed, offering a soft smile. Kyle nodded reluctantly. He knew there was no use fighting at this point, they just needed to finish this. 

Once Kyle regained his composure, they all followed Cartman through the over-flourished fauna, walking past other rooms with lights shut off, and stepping around the broken floor tiles. The entrance to the lobby of the lab was only closed off by some caution tape, which Kyle now remembered passing by at the very end of the tour. 

“You see any guards?” Kenny asked, his voice just above a whisper.

“Not yet,” Cartman answered, his eyes scanning the open space, “Maybe we already missed-” He had gone to move the caution tape out of the way when there was a mechanical whirring noise, and before any of the boys could move, thick iron bars dropped from the ceiling, cutting them off from moving forward and trapping them in the greenhouse. The bars slammed onto the floor with an echo that made Kyle’s heart drop to his stomach.

“What the-” Cartman rushed forward, grabbing the bars and shaking them, but they were firmly in place, “No, no, no, no, what the fuck?!”

Kyle and the others also ran up, each giving their best attempt to lift or even move the bars, but to no avail. Panic built up in Kyle’s chest. “What the hell is going on?” he asked, hoping maybe this was just some alarm that Cartman or Butters may have misremembered, but was instead answered by the sound of a cane tapping against ceramic floor tiles, approaching them from the darkness of the lobby in front of them.

“It’s about time you boys showed up,” Mephesto greeted, stepping out of the shadows to reveal himself, “I’ll admit, I was expecting you yesterday, but I’m glad you finally were able to make it here.”

“We got busy,” Kyle quipped through gritted teeth, his blood boiling, “What the hell is this?”

“Well, I couldn’t have you running around the building at such a late hour,” Mephetso walked closer to the bars, tapping them with his cane, “They were installed all over the facility in case any experiments ever got loose, but it also helps round up trespassers.”

“He means why the fuck have you locked us up?!” Kenny snapped, “How did you know we were gonna come in this way?”

“Given it was the only way in the building that doesn’t have a secured entrance, I could only assume this would be your path,” The scientist answered, rather nonchalantly Kyle would add, “Though, in case you decided to storm the front door, I do have security walking around there and by any low windows as well.”

“Goddammit,” Cartman cursed under his breath, “You knew we were gonna sneak in, didn’t you?”

Mephesto chuckled, “To be completely honest, I wasn’t too sure which path the four of you would- wait,” he stopped his explanation as he counted them one by one, “Why are there five of you? This one wasn’t involved,” he asked as he pointed at Butters, who started to shrink away from the bars.

“He’s... he's here to help us turn on the machine,” Kenny answered reluctantly, and Butters gave a nervous and reserved wave.

“Oh, uh, alright, as I was saying,” Mephesto cleared his throat, “I wasn’t sure which path you all would take, but I knew you would show up sooner or later.”

Kyle rolled his eyes, already getting sick and tired of this vague lecture. “Why are you doing this?” he asked, cutting to the chase, “We’re just trying to fix our mistake, we didn’t mean to set off your experiment.”

“Yes, that was very clear in the security camera footage,” Mephesto shot Kyle a dirty look.

“I knew there were cameras!” Cartman exclaimed, laughing to himself, “God, this would be so validating if we weren’t trapped.”

“Wait, so you did know it was us?” Kyle scowled at the doctor.

“But that meeting at school,” Stan mumbled to himself, “Was that just some charade? The teachers sounded so clueless.”

“Oh, they had no idea it was you four, I knew that would complicate things,” Mephesto explained, hands clasped behind his back as he began to monologue, much to Kyle’s chagrin, “You see, after I put together what you all had done to yourselves, my first thought was to inform the school, and demand some sort of punishment for messing with my equipment and breaking the only rule I had for the tour. But then I realized, I’d never had any successful experiments with that blasted Electron Swap Device. Though, I suppose that is mostly my own fault. I guess the static electricity from the original rug design was more potent than the coil I had created.”

Kenny blinked, “I’m sorry, did you say it was originally a rug?”

“But without even trying, you managed to get it to work,” Mephesto continued, ignoring Kenny’s incredibly valid question, “I have to say, I was impressed, albeit a little curious. I decided to wait it out, see how long it lasted. I didn't want to get too hasty. And then I noticed one of you poking around my servers, looking for information. It was then I reached out to the school, informing them that their students had messed with my equipment.”

“Dude, we did that, like, a day after we swapped, you weren’t really waiting around for that long,” Cartman pointed out.

“But I couldn’t just tell the school what had happened,” it was like he couldn’t hear the five of them, and just kept rolling along as Kyle slowly banged his head against the bars, “They were already hesitant about having the tour to begin with. But I knew I could use them to get you all to come back here. So I sent out an email reminder about a meeting in the hopes that you would find a way to be there and listen in. And if you just so happened to have heard that the body swap might become permanent, try to seek me out on your own, who could blame you.”

“Oh, would you look at that? Once again, I was right,” Cartman grumbled, not nearly as smug as Kyle would have imagined, “Now, if you could just let us-”

“I knew you would never risk telling the school faculty the truth of what happened,” Mephesto steamrolled past the interruptions once again, making Cartman’s eye begin to twitch, “And even if you did, they would just point you back in my direction. They did love the idea of the students responsible having to work in the lab for community service. And what’s a better service to the community than being willing test subjects! After years and years of the city cutting into my funding I would finally have enough subjects to continue my experiments, muting your DNA to see just how many asses you can handle!”

He laughed manically, and there was some world in which his exclamation was emphasized with a clap of thunder, but instead the five of them just stood behind the bars, silent, as confusion swept over them.

“Wait, wait, wait, I’m sorry,” Kyle put his hands out, hoping he could finally stop the monologuing, “You.. you don’t even care about the fact that we swapped bodies? Even though you’ve never had a successful subject? You just want to use us for more of your ass experiments?”

Mephesto stared blankly at him, “Of course. That’s my passion. Why would I explore anything else?”

“Jesus Christ,” Kenny grumbled, “I feel like you’ve done enough of those, dude. You’re not gonna even try to spice it up? Like, keep swapping us around or something?”

“Huh, now that you mention it, that would be an interesting new variable,” Mephesto stroked his chin in thought, “And then I could determine what makes the four of you better test subjects than the ones in the past. That would also save me a potential lawsuit.” He turned to Kenny, “What an excellent idea, young man. You have a future in science ahead of you.”

Kyle had to bite his tongue to keep from screaming. This was the mastermind that was keeping them from fixing their mistake? The one who had gotten them spiraling all week? So easily swayed in what he wanted to even do to them that any fucking suggestion would have worked??

“Way to go, Kenny,” Cartman spat.

“I didn’t think he’d listen to me!” Kenny exclaimed in defense.

“Well, now that that’s been settled, I need to get some things set up, given there’s one more than I was anticipating,” Butters shrunk further into himself as Mephesto looked him over, “But in the meantime, just sit tight here. I’ll make sure you all are tested to your full potential.” He laughed to himself as he walked away, the sound of his cane echoing down the hallway even as Mephesto was long gone from their sight.

Watching him walk away, a wave of dread washed over Kyle, the unsettling realization that they were all out of ideas, and after all their efforts, it all accumulated to nothing. Looking over at Stan and Kenny, it was clear that they were also feeling the same. But that dread didn’t seem to be a universal feeling.

“You wanna know what I learned today?” Cartman asked, his voice dripping with malice.

Kyle scowled, “Cartman, now is not the time-”

“I learned that you all are a bunch of ASSHOLES who should have listened to me THREE FUCKING DAYS AGO!” Cartman yelled, shaking the bars for emphasis. He even kicked them in a fit of rage, which must have hurt like a bitch, given he immediately started cursing under his breath and hopped around on one foot afterwards.

“Can I punch him in the face again?” Kyle asked, looking over at Stan.

Stan raised an eyebrow, “What good would that do now?”

“It would make me feel better.”

Kenny sighed, leaning his head against the bars, “Just let him, man. It’s not like we have any other ideas. We’re doomed.”

“And we were so close,” Stan ran his hands through his hair, “What are we supposed to do now?”

“What choice do we have?” Kenny’s face went dark, “You heard Mephesto, we’re his fucking guinea pigs for this stupid machine. And no thanks to me, we’re all gonna get swapped with each other until he burns that damn thing out.” 

Kyle’s heart plummeted to his stomach. He knew Kenny was right, deep down, but it didn’t make things any easier. This was it. They were completely and utterly fucked. And despite all his best efforts, the rest of Kyle’s friends were gonna find out one way or the other about him being trans, whether he wanted them to or not. He looked out at the clock in the main lobby, watching as it hit 10:00 pm. In a few hours, Mephesto would be back to drag them to another part of the facility for who knows what kind of experiments.

If all he had was time, maybe there was one thing he could do. One thing he could say that would at least help prepare himself for the worst.

Taking in a deep breath, he turned around to face the group. “I guess, if we’re gonna be stuck like this, or swapped around again,” He sighed, trying to ignore his shaking hands, “There’s something I want you guys to know.”

Cartman, who was still nursing his hurt foot, turned his attention to Kyle immediately, eyes wide in surprise, looking him up and down to make sure he was hearing right. Honestly, Kyle couldn’t believe it either. 

“This… this timing feels weird,” Kyle admitted, fidgeting with the zipper of his jacket, “But I’d rather you hear it from me than some other way.”

Kenny and Cartman shared a glance, but Stan wouldn’t look away from Kyle, eyebrows upturned in distress. He looked… God, why did he look so worried? Kyle was the one who was supposed to be anxious about this. Hell, he was fucking terrified right now. He didn’t want this to go like it had on Monday, like it had with Cartman. He needed to be the one to tell Stan. 

And Kenny and Butters, sure, they were here too, but most importantly Stan.

“If there’s one thing I’ve learned this week,” he bit his lip as he slipped into the old saying, which did earn a quiet laugh from Stan, “It’s that things tend to bite me in the ass when I keep them to myself.”

“Kyle,” Cartman’s voice was soft, very much not like him, “Are you sure-”

“Let me finish, please,” Kyle interrupted, his voice wavering. It was getting harder and harder to think of the right words to say, to think of just how much he could stall before he would have to just say it out right. “Look, the truth is I-”

CLANG!

Kyle jumped at the sudden noise, whipping his head around to the direction it had come from, instantly making eye contact with Butters, who looked extremely guilty as he picked up some kind of metal fidget toy from the floor.

“Uh, sorry about that,” he quickly apologized, putting the toy in his pocket.

“Butters, what the fuck?” Kyle asked, raising an eyebrow, “Where did you get that thing?”

“Oh, it was in one of the gift shop displays,” Butters explained, motioning behind him, “Found it while we were looking around.”

“Okay,” Kyle shook his head, “Like I was saying, I-”

“Wait, what do you mean gift shop display?” Cartman cut him off, turning to Butters with his brow furrowed.

“Well, uh, there were some stands outside of a room that looks an awful lot like a gift shop,” Butters looked even more lost, but that didn't stop Cartman's face from lighting up, breaking out into a grin.

“Of fucking course! The gift shop! I almost forgot!” Cartman exclaimed, nearly tripping over himself as he ran back into the greenhouse. Sharing confused glances between the four of them, Kyle led the charge as they followed Cartman. He ran past the stands of dusty merch and snacks that were incredibly expired, making a bee-line for the computer at the register. “Butters, look for a light switch!” he called out once the four of them were close enough.

Butters jumped in surprise, but followed the instruction, going up to each wall and blindly feeling around for any switches.

“What’s so special about the gift shop?” Stan asked, walking over to one of the merch stands. He picked up a snow globe, using his fingers to draw a frowny face in the dust. “How will any of this stuff help us?”

“It’s not about that shit,” Cartman scoffed, like that was supposed to be oblivious, “It’s about getting into his security system. All the computers use the same account so you can access security protocols from the other side of the building. Butters! How we doing on lights?”

“Think I found it!” Butters called from the far corner of the gift shop, near a door that read ‘Employee Access Only’. He flipped all three switches on the wall, turning on the bright fluorescent lights in all sections of the shop, and the computer in front of Cartman began to boot up.

“Let’s fucking go,” Cartman smirked, cracking his knuckles as he began to dig through the computer files.

“Okay, accessing security information is one thing, but if we lift up that gate, Mephesto is for sure gonna notice” Kenny pointed out.

“Well that doesn’t matter, we’re not going through the gate,” Cartman explained, “We’re going the long way.”

“Oh, the long way, great,” Kyle commented sarcastically, “What does that mean?”

“Mephesto has all these weird secret ways to get to different parts of the lab, and through those doors,” he pointed at the door behind Butters, “He’s got this weird tram elevator thingie that goes to various places in the building.”

Kyle vaguely remembered what Cartman was talking about, “Okay, so does it have a direct path to the exhibit room with the Electron Swap machine?”

“Well, no, but it can take us over to the real labs, where he keeps all his fucked up experiments. All that shit is on the same floor as the exhibit room, so we just need to walk through that and we’re only a few doors away. If all the guards are down here, we’ll sneak by basically unnoticed.”

“But won’t he hear us using the tram?” Kyle further questioned, “That thing is not quiet.”

“I’ve got just the thing,” Cartman smirked, pulling up a new tab in a web browser, “Not only are the security protocols all linked up, but so are the speakers throughout the building. This should cancel out any noise we end up making,” he typed in something, the smug look still written across his face, and started mumbling under his breath, “Lettme just make sure it gets sent to the right places.”

With the press of an enter key, music started blaring from the speakers of the gift shop, and Kyle could hear it echoing out in the main hall as well. The drum intro was familiar, but Kyle couldn’t quite place it.

“Is this what I think it is?” Stan’s brow furrowed in recognition, and Kyle was tempted to ask what, but the first verse starting gave him his answer.

“I stay up too late!” A bright feminine voice sang out, giving them all instant recognition of the song Cartman had chosen.

“You’ve got to be shitting me,” Stan sighed, as Kenny dragged his hands down his face in disappointment.

“Taylor Swift?” Kyle asked, turning over to Cartman, “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“What?! I just picked something at random!” Cartman screeched, face flushing in embarrassment.

“Uh, huh, totally random,” Kenny grumbled, head still in his hands, “Can we just fucking go!?”

With a newfound motivation, the five of them rushed into the employee backroom and gathered onto the platform of the tram. It looked like the world’s sketchiest elevator. Open air, the railing around it being only about two and a half feet high, attached to the pulley system with only a single point, and absolutely covered in dust and dirt from the years it must have been just sitting in this section of the lab.

Kyle grimaced as he stepped on, the basket swinging slightly. The railing was tacky to the touch, which only made him more uncomfortable riding this thing. The others filed in behind him, leaving just Cartman on the platform at some sort of control panel. After glancing over it for far too little time to know what he was doing, he flipped a lever, and the tram whirred to life, starting its ascent to the second floor. Kyle and Stan offered Cartman a hand up, making sure he wasn’t left behind, and helped pull him into the basket. Like Kyle had remembered, the tram was incredibly noisy, the engine creaking and groaning, but it was the speed that worried him the most.

“Doesn’t this thing go any faster?” he asked, fairly unimpressed as it inched forward at a pace Kyle could probably out-walk without trying.

They all started looking around, but Kenny was the one who found the control panel first. “Ah, I think this turtle button means slow,” he wiped the dust from the controls, “Should be much faster when-” he sentence was cut off as he pressed the button, and the tram lurched before sending them up the track at a frighteningly fast pace. They all screamed as they grabbed hold of the sides for dear life.

The tram came to a screeching stop once they hit the top floor, and not even Kyle’s strong grip on the railing could save him from getting thrown to the front of the basket, all of them falling on top of each other against the side as it slowly rocked back and forth. 

Kyle groaned from the impact, opening his eyes to see Cartman draped over him. He didn’t seem to notice until his eyes met Kyle’s, causing him to quickly scramble away, like he would catch fire if he stayed put.

God, why the fuck was he being so jumpy lately?

“Was… was that fast enough?” Kenny squeaked out.

“Fuck off,” Kyle grumbled, blinking hard hoping that it would stop the light ringing in his head. Once the tram was able to balance itself out did the guys start to feel comfortable standing up, and continuing their trek to the machine.

Kyle’s legs still felt shaky as he brought himself to his feet, wiping the dust grime from years of abandonment onto his pants, making a mental note to apologize to Stan about the mess after they switched back, and followed the others off of the tram. It was still swaying in the air, but thankfully locked at the height of the landing dock it had stopped at. Stan offered him a hand to exit, giving him a subtle once over to make sure he looked okay.

Cartman went back to leading the group, struggling with the exit door for a moment before throwing it open, revealing one of the many lab wings of the building. It was another area that had been shut down for quite a while, no doubt because of the last time Kyle and his friends had rolled through the lab. The glass partition windows were shattered, the bars of the cages were bent, having been pried apart from their prior inhabitants. It was worse for wear than the greenhouse, and they had just entered the first room.

Though, Kyle would have been more disrupted by the whole thing if bubble-gum pop music wasn’t playing from the speakers.

“Why is that playing up here?” Kyle asked, as the chorus of ‘Shake It Off’ echoed in the empty room.

“I sent it to locations all over the building so they’ll have to check all the computers before they can turn it off. It’ll give us some time to fuck with the machine while they’re all on a wild goose chase,” Cartman explained, looking pretty smug, “I know, it hurts to be this smart sometimes.”

Kyle scowled, stopping in his tracks, “So doesn’t that mean they’ll have to check the computers up here, too?”

“No, it means…” Cartman’s voice trailed off, the smile of his face dropping as he realized how much he had fucked up, “Well, shit.”

“Goddammit, Cartman,” Stan sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Cartman tried to stammer out some excuse, but his failed attempts to explain himself were suddenly cut off by the sound of footsteps coming from the opposite direction.

The security Mephesto had mentioned.

“Uh, fellas, we should hide!” Butters exclaimed. They all scrambled to the side of the lab, hiding behind one of the work counters, cramming together so that they were hidden from both sides as the footsteps got closer. 

But they couldn’t just hide in complete silence.

“~you coulda been getting down to this, sick, beat!” Taylor Swift’s speak-singing voice nearly drowning out the sound of Kyle's heart pounding in his ears.

“How the fuck is this song still going?!” he asked in a harsh whisper.

Kenny suppressed a laugh, slightly shaking his head. There was a pause before he began to speak, “So, quick question-”

“Now is not the time, Kenny!” Kyle cut him off.

“No, no, it’ll be quick,” Kenny reassured him, looking past Kyle to Cartman, “I’m just curious… is this Taylor’s version?”

Cartman’s cheeks flushed again, and he glared at him, “What the fuck, Kenny? Why does that matter?!”

“I just want to see how intentional of a choice this was!” Kenny exclaimed, his voice still low.

“It wasn’t intentional! I choose at random!” Cartman argued.

“And I definitely believe you,” Kenny smirked, taking Cartman’s flustered demeanor as an admission of guilt. 

There was another pause, then Butters piped up, “Oh, this is for sure Taylor’s version.”

“Of course, you know that, Butters,” Stan sighed.

Butters pouted, eyebrows upturned. “What? Is there something wrong with-“

Kenny stopped him mid-sentence, clasping a hand over his mouth as the door to the lab slid open, and the sound of footsteps became deafening. 

The guards, at least two of them, were muttering to themselves, and every so often Kyle could see their flashlights scanning the room, the beam cutting around the counter they were hiding behind. Kyle swallowed hard, desperately hoping that breathing through his nose was quiet enough to go unnoticed.

There was a tone from some kind of radio, followed by garbled speech that Kyle could just barely make out, “No sign of them in the greenhouse. Continuing search back to the lobby.”

“Copy that,” one of the guards spoke, his voice gruff. Part of Kyle felt a bit relieved by the news. If they got into the greenhouse, that meant that the gate that had trapped them there earlier had been lifted which would give them their escape route.

That was, if they didn’t get caught here.

“Check the crates, I’ll look here,” the same guard who had answered the radio instructed. Kyle’s heart raced even faster than before as he realized the direction he had been talking about. The same side of the room they were hiding.

He could hear as each step got closer and closer to the work bench, the beam of the light from the flashlight getting wider and wider. He squeezed his eyes shut as he heard the guard put a hand on the counter, just about to look over when-

“Goddammit! Is that fucking song on a loop!?” The other security guard exclaimed, and Kyle nearly jumped out of his skin from how sudden it was. He really hadn’t been paying attention to the music that was still playing through the lab at that point, but now that it had been brought up, he could hear the first verse of the song once again playing on the system.

The guard that had been close sighed, followed by the sound of his shoes turning to face his partner, “Why the hell is it taking Jenkins so long to find which computer they used?”

“I dunno, but he better find it soon,” the other guard grumbled, “This drum beat is gettin’ on my nerves.”

“These damn pre-teens are getting on my nerves,” the first guard complained, he was probably some kind of supervisor given how much older he sounded, “Breaking in is one thing, but this is gonna wreck the Spotify Wrapped at the end of the year.”

Kyle frowned, looking over to Stan as the pure panic that was running through his veins turned ice cold. If the guards were more worried about the music history for the building than they were finding them, he didn’t feel the need to be worried. Stan just shrugged, looking just as lost and confused as Kyle felt.

There was the click of a radio, and the first guard spoke again, “Upstairs lab is clear, continue the search on the lower level.” There was the garbled sound of someone replying, but there was too much static for Kyle to be sure.

The second guard adjusted his equipment, “Man, I was kinda hoping Bad Blood would play next.”

The first guard sighed, “Is that seriously your problem with this, Reynolds?”

“No, but-“

“Let’s just get going,” the first guard sounded exasperated as he began to walk out of the room. Kyle held his breath until he heard the sliding door close, and the sound of the guards’ footsteps were no longer close, exhaling in relief as his body let go of the tension.

“Jesus Christ, that was too close,” Stan breathed out.

“You know what, I take it back, good song choice Cartman,” Kenny admitted, still cautious as he checked the other side of the counter to ensure that the guards were truly out of sight.

“No shit, I know what I’m fucking doing,” Cartman scoffed, but he still looked pretty shaken from the whole encounter. Kyle couldn’t blame him, this whole thing had completely blown out of proportion. At this point, he would be surprised if they managed to leave the building scot-free.

“Do you think they’re still out there?” Butters asked, still on the ground cowering behind the counter as the other boys stood up.

“Highly doubt it,” Kyle scoffed, crossing his arms, “They seem more concerned with changing the song than finding us.

“When did you even have time to put it on repeat?” Stan asked Cartman, a mix of confused and impressed.

“Oh my god! Get off my ass about the damn song!” Cartman snapped, “Let’s just get going.” He began to walk towards the sliding door, but Kenny was quick on his heels, pulling him back by the collar of his shirt.

“Woah woah woah, hold up a sec,” Kenny chastised, “Butters has a point, they might still be out there.”

Cartman rolled his eyes, “Oh really? Are you just gonna listen to every little suggestion he throws out?”

“Given I don’t want to get caught by the fucking mad scientist, yes!” Kenny glared, “I’ll go check it out, just…” he frowned, looking around the room, “Fuck, just be prepared to head back down the tram if it goes to shit.”

“Great plan, Ken,” Cartman said sarcastically, putting emphasis on the nickname Butters typically used for Kenny. Choosing to hold his tongue, Kenny only scowled, before carefully opening the sliding door to follow the guards.

“I know you mentioned you fellers were starting to act like each other, but those two really are fighting like you and Eric, huh?” Butters observed, catching Kyle’s eyes.

Kyle could only sigh, “Don’t even get me started.” He hopped up onto the counter, dragging his hands down his face as he tried to collect his thoughts. Too much had happened in such a short amount of time.

God, he still couldn’t believe that he almost said it, too. Almost pulled back the curtain, finally able to admit the secret that’s been eating away at him forever. But at the same time… he was kind of glad he didn’t. 

He was a coward, he was man enough to admit that out loud. Or rather, in his mind. It had really been the worst case scenario. Backed into a corner. And if he didn’t say anything then, that heartbroken look Stan had given him would be the least of his problems.

Now, with the still slim chance this body swap got fixed, he could have more control over when and how he told the others. Because he wanted to- needed to tell them.

Just… not right this second.

“Hey,” Stan’s voice broke him from his thoughts as he jumped up on the counter next to Kyle. “How you holding up?” he asked, nudging Kyle in the arm to get his attention.

“Good now, I was a bit worried back there,” Kyle laughed half-heartedly, “You?”

“I’ve been better,” Stan shrugged, smiling as Kyle chuckled at his sarcastic reply. But the small moment of peace only lasted for a moment. As Stan’s face began to drop, Kyle could feel his own heart begin to race in panic. “So, uh, about that thing you were trying to tell us-”

“Hallway is clear!” Kenny announced, bounding back into the room, “Let’s get going, people, we don’t have all night!”

Grateful for the interruption, Kyle jumped off the table, ready to book it, but Stan grabbed his arm, stopping him in his tracks. “Kyle-”

“Later, Stan,” Kyle stopped him, pleading quietly so the others wouldn’t hear, “I promise.”

Stan seemed hesitant, scowling slightly, but let go of his arm. He followed closely behind Kyle as the two of them made their way out of the lab, entering the empty second floor walkway. Dead across the hall were the double doors to the experiment room, propped open as they had been during the tour. The spire of the Electron Swap machine glistened in the small beam of moonlight that it was caught on, even from a distance.

He could still hear the guards, traversing the ground floor, speaking to each other over radio as they fanned out the building. And if Kyle could hear them from up here, that meant any noise the five of them made could be heard downstairs. Open concept buildings were the fucking worst.

Kenny had dropped to the floor, balancing on the balls of his feet as he motioned for the others to follow suit, remaining hidden by the guardrails. Kyle could tell what Kenny was wanting them to do, but he couldn’t help but think of just how much time they would waste crawling their way over.

Kyle wasn’t the only one who seemed to not love the idea, Cartman scowling at Kenny and rolling his eyes as Kenny motioned for the group to follow him crawling down the walkway. “Guy plays a vigilante once, and thinks he knows everything about-” he grumbled under his breath, only cut off by a harsh ‘shh’ from Stan as they started moving.

They were about halfway across when the music that Kyle had been able to ignore suddenly shut off, and every little move the five of them made sounded deafening in Kyle’s ears. They all stopped in their tracks, looking between each other as they silently debated if they should continue forward.

The choice was made for them as an alarm sounded, louder than the music had been, and flashing red lights illuminated the building.

“Goddammit, Reynolds, you set off the fucking alarm!” The guard Kyle recognized from the lab yelled out, and suddenly the guards below them started running.

Well, now was their chance, Kyle thought, and launched himself off the ground and started booking it toward the double doors. It didn’t take long for the others to follow suit, not far behind Kyle as he skidded to a stop once he passed the threshold.

There it was, in all its glory, The Electron Swap and Transfer Device, just as they had left it days ago. It seemed more menacing than it had during the tour, but maybe that was just due to Kyle’s nerves.

The alarm was still blaring as Kenny, who had been the last one off the ground, made his way into the room. Without a word, Kyle and Stan caught each other's eyes, and moved over to the doors to lose them. Breathing heavily, they pushed the heavy doors shut, leaving the group in the dim light of the exhibit room, the sound of the alarm muted as the flashing red lights peaked through the gap between the doors and the floor. “We’re gonna want to block this off in case they round back here,” Kyle suggested.

“This should work!” Kenny walked over to a large couch with a metal frame, for visitors to sit at when they came walking through, “At least, it’ll work for a bit.”

“Good enough for me, I’ll give you a hand,” Kyle started walking over, “Stan, go help Butters get power to the machine.”

“On it!” Stan gave him a salute before rushing off with Butters, who had already been walking over to the device.

“Alright, lift on three,” Kyle instructed Kenny, once he got a good grip on the couch, “One, two, three!”

They both grunted over the effort it took to lift the couch, which ended up being much heavier than Kyle had anticipated. They had to stop fairly quickly, putting the couch down after only a few steps toward the door. Before Kyle could even ask, Cartman rushed over, helping support the middle of the couch. It didn’t make a terrible difference, but they managed to get it the rest of the way without another stop. They dropped it in the center of the double doors, panting harder than when they had run in. Kyle took a seat on the couch, taking off Stan's beanie, shoving it in his pocket, and ran his hands through his hair.

“Not to put you on the spot or anything,” Kenny plopped himself down next to Kyle, “But that… that thing you were gonna tell us... back in the greenhouse. What was that about?”

Kyle’s throat went dry, regretting every choice he had ever made up until this point, “Oh, that,” Kyle tried to laugh, but it came out weak, “Don’t worry about it, I was just-” he stopped himself, unsure as to what he could say. Building up the confidence to tell Kenny the truth was gonna take a bit more time, and now that there wasn’t a looming threat over their heads, he was quickly backpedaling his decision. Looking up, his eyes unconsciously drifted over to Stan, who was helping Butters pull out the incredibly long power cord to the ‘Electrical Room’. 

His heart ached when he remembered the look Stan had given him as he led up to the confession, the way he looked when he tried to ask him about it moments ago. Stan knew there was something Kyle was holding back on, something he hadn’t told him, and the guilt Kyle felt because of that was awful. Maybe he should have told him back on Thursday, when he had come over to apologize for their fight, or he should have told him during said fight. Or better yet, he should have told Stan before this body swap even happened in the first place. 

“Was it… about Stan?” Kenny asked, jumping Kyle from his thoughts. He looked back at Kenny, eyes wide. Did.. did Kenny just give him his out?

“Uh, yeah,” he lied, clearing his throat, “I mean, kind of.”

Kenny sighed, shaking his head as he looked back over at Stan and Butters, “You know, telling him how you feel wouldn’t be a terrible idea.”

Kyle felt his face heat up. Right, this was why making Stan his out was a bad idea, how could he forget? “Kenny,” he groaned, “I don’t wanna hear this-”

“You care about him, right?” Kenny interrupted.

Kyle blinked, “Of course I do.”

“And you know that he cares about you, right?”

“Where are you going with this?” Kyle asked, narrowing his eyes at him.

“Just answer,” Kenny deadpanned.

Kyle sighed, “I know he cares. That’s… that’s kind of the problem.”

“You’re making this more difficult than it is,” Kenny shook his head, “Look, take it from me, there’s nothing you can do or say that would make him hate you. He’s got a stupid big heart, and even when he was mad at you, he was more mad at himself.” Kyle’s heart squeezed, and he had to look away from Kenny. “I get being nervous, but trust me, with Stan, you have literally nothing to worry about.”

“He’s right,” Cartman spoke up, making Kyle jump in his seat, “And quite honestly, if you don’t tell him, I will.”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Kyle spat, not too sure how serious Cartman was being.

He shrugged, “If you ask me, it’s a miracle that he hasn’t figured it out yet.”

“Leave him alone, man,” Kenny scowled at Cartman, “Like you can even-”

“We got power!” Stan yelled, jumping the others into action, Kyle slightly behind. That had been the second time Kenny had said something like that, something about Cartman that had either gotten cut off, or interrupted. It was… weird. Weirder than Kenny and Cartman normally were. But now wasn’t exactly the time to tred on that.

They ran towards the machine, where Butters was flipping through the printed out manual, cautiously pressing buttons as it whirred to life. Small sparks of static electricity shot off from the top of the coil, nowhere near as large and powerful as Kyle had remembered it being. On instinct, he still couldn’t bring himself to cross the caution line.

“Okay, looks like it’s working,” Butters slowly stepped to the side of the panel as Stan joined the group from where he had been in the electrical room, “Do you fellas know what lever you might have hit?”

“Pretty sure Cartman kicked that one,” Kenny pointed to the lever at the end of the panel.

“I didn’t kick anything!” Cartman exclaimed, but his complaints fell on deaf ears as Butters pulled the lever. There was a much brighter, much larger spark that illuminated the room, and much as it had days prior, the static made its way down the coil. 

Butters instantly started backing up, even further past the red caution line. “I, uh, I’m just gonna,” he stammered out, ducking behind a broken device across the room, cowering from any potential sparks or blasts. “I’ve got you from over here, fellas.”

“Fucking pussy,” Cartman grumbled.

Kenny scoffed at the insult, but pushed forward, the first one to take a step over the caution line. Kyle could tell it was kind of a facade of sorts, Kenny trying to put on a brave face because everyone else was scared shitless. He was probably used to acting like the hero with Karen, having to be the one to step up, even if he was just as scared as the rest of them.

With a deep breath, Kenny took hold of the cage, looking over his shoulder. “Let’s finish this shit,” he said, holding out his hand, “Think this might be easier than climbing on top of each other or whatever the fuck we were doing before.”

Stan smiled, looking over at Kyle as he offered his hand. “You ready, dude?”

“You have no idea,” Kyle grinned, taking Stan’s hand in his as they crossed the caution line. Stan clasped Kenny’s hand giving him a nod as they two shared a look of excitement. Kyle held out his hand expectantly, but as he turned to face Cartman, the general excitement started to fizzle out. He looked... what Kyle could only describe as scared, eyebrows upturned into a scowl as he stayed behind the red caution line.

“Dude, what’s the hold up?” Kenny asked, “We don’t have that much longer, you wanna make this more complicated?”

“I-” Cartman flinched as another zapping sound of the wave electricity climbed further down the coil, inching closer to Kenny’s hold on the cage.

“Cartman,” Kyle tried to keep a steady voice as their eyes locked, “Take my hand.” There was a beat, a split second where Kyle was convinced Cartman was going to tell him to fuck off, but the longer Kyle looked at him, the more he recognized the look on his face. It was the same way he had looked earlier that day, during Kenny’s monologue during his fight with Wendy.

Hesitantly, Cartman began to reach for Kyle’s hand, taking a slow step over the caution line. But then he stopped, biting his lip. “Kyle,” his voice was shaky, “I just wanted to… I, um-”

“Oh my god, we literally don’t have time for this!” Kenny interrupted loudly, “Just take his fucking hand!” Without much more fanfare, Cartman took his hands, squeezing it tight as he avoided Kyle’s eyes.

“Any second now fellas!” Butters called out from the end of the room.

“God, this is so gay,” Cartman grumbled in embarrassment as his hand shifted in Kyle’s, like he still wanted to pull away.

“Shut up, Cartman!” Stan, Kyle, and Kenny all groaned in unison. 

Kyle’s heart was pounding in his ears, drowning out the sounds as Butters began a countdown. His eyes locked with Stan’s, the two sharing another wordless conversation as they always did. See you on the other side.

There was another bright spark, and Kyle squeezed his eyes shut, bracing himself for the shock to rush through his body. He still remembered how it had felt the first time, the way his body had gone stiff, how he couldn’t move as he screamed out in pain. It had all happened so quickly, and anticipating only made it worse.

“-three, two, one!” Butters finished his countdown, and Kyle tensed back up, waiting… and waiting. But the shock didn’t come.

“Huh,” Kenny hummed, “Think that count down might have been-”

Kenny’s comment was cut short as the strong wave of static shot raced through all four of them. They all screamed, and it wasn’t long before Kyle felt his legs go weak, and he collapsed on the floor as his mind began to shut down.

Kyle didn’t know how much time had passed when he started to wake up. His brain felt like mush as he tried to open his eyes. There was still a lingering numbness in his body from the electric shock, which wasn’t terribly surprising. Once he regained some feeling in his fingertips, he made an attempt to sit up, wincing in pain from something digging into his sides. God, this binder fucking sucks, he thought to himself. 

His eyes snapped open. Wait, binder?

Looking down at himself, a weight lifted off his shoulders, and a warmness filled his chest. It was his clothes, his body, just as uncomfortable and underwhelming as he remembered. But god, he couldn’t be happier.

“Kyle?” Butters asked, and Kyle’s head snapped up to look at him. He was probably smiling like a maniac, but he couldn’t help it. It was all over. Their plan had worked.

“Yeah, it’s me,” Kyle laughed in disbelief, and stood up, still examining his body. Everything looked in order, the way it should. He was sure he’d had his binder on for a few hours too long, but at this point he didn’t really care.

Butters sighed in relief, “Oh thank goodness. You fellas were just lying there and I was starting to get worried I’d-”

His rambling was cut off by Kenny rushing over, embracing Butters in a hug, laughing like a maniac as he picked him up and twirled him around. Butters yelped in surprise, but seemed more or less on board with the sudden physical affection.

“You fucking did it!” Kenny exclaimed, “Butters, you’re a fucking genius!”

Butters laughed, his face flushed pink, “Oh, I- I really didn’t do that much-”

“Don’t you dare sell yourself short,” Kenny cut him off as he set him back on the ground, “We’d be helpless if not for you.”

“Well, I- that’s real sweet, Ken,” Butters couldn’t look Kenny in the eyes, his face more red than before.

Kyle smiled at the scene, shaking his head. They were cute, and Kyle couldn’t believe he didn’t see this happening sooner. He was pulled away from Kenny and Butters’ reunion when he heard someone behind him start to stir. Whipping his head around, he saw Stan, sitting up and rubbing his head, eyes still closed.

“Stan?” Kyle asked, walking over cautiously.

Stan’s eyes snapped open, looking up at Kyle as a smile spread onto his face. “Kyle,” It was less a question and more a statement, relief and genuine happiness in his voice, making Kyle’s heart race. He offered Stan a hand up, which Stan accepted instantly. Once on his feet, they gazed at each other, and all of the tension, all of the miscommunication and fights they’d had washed away. Things were finally back to normal. Wordlessly, they embraced each other, laughing to themselves. 

“I missed you, man,” Kyle muttered, his voice muffled by Stan’s jacket.

“I missed you, too,” Stan pulled away slightly so he could look at Kyle, his arms still wrapped around him, and Kyle’s hands at Stan’s waist. His blue eyes felt brighter than they ever had, sparkling as he looked down at Kyle, scanning his face as his smile softened. Kyle felt his heart jump to his throat. He thought back to what Stan had said about Kenny and Butters, how he wished he could be as brave as Kenny about throwing his feelings out there. He thought about Kenny, telling him that he had no reason to be anxious. It felt too good to be true, but with the way Stan was looking at him…

“So are you two finally gonna kiss or what?” Cartman’s voice shot through the tension like a bullet, causing the hairs on Kyle’s arms to stand up straight. Him and Stan quickly pulled apart from each other, Kyle’s face burning red from embarrassment just as much as Stan’s.

“Cartman!” he exclaimed as his shoulders tensed, looking over at his friend who was still sitting on the ground with a smug look on his face, “What the fuck! You said you wouldn’t say anything!”

“No I didn’t!” Cartman argued, “I said I wouldn’t tell anyone you’re trans, not about your…” His voice trailed off, his face falling as Kyle’s stomach dropped, his own body freezing in place. 

He didn’t just… No, no, no, no not like this. Not here. What the hell was he thinking?!

“What are you talking about?” Stan asked, looking between Kyle and Cartman, but Kyle couldn’t meet his eyes. 

This couldn’t be happening, this wasn’t happening. This was all just a dream, a nightmare.

Cartman looked as panicked as Kyle felt, “Shit, I- Kyle, I- I swear, I didn’t mean to-” he stammered out.

Stan tried to grab Kyle’s hand, but Kyle pulled away quickly, shaking as he backed away from the group, starting to hyperventilate. “Kyle, what is he talking about?” Stan repeated his question, eyebrows upturned as he looked at Kyle in concern.

“I…” Kyle’s throat felt tight, and his eyes began to sting with tears. This wasn’t how he wanted this to go. This wasn’t supposed to be how Stan found out. “I’m sorry.” His voice wasn’t much louder than a whisper as panic spread through his veins and he ran off.

He heard Stan call out his name, but Kyle didn’t look back. It was getting hard to breathe, his thoughts were starting to suffocate him. He pushed past the door that led to the electrical room, and put his back to the wall. Tears slid down his cheeks as he let out a pathetic sob.

Of course. Of fucking course something like this would happen. Why did he think he could trust Cartman with something so serious, so important to him? It was Kyle’s fault, for being so trusting, for thinking- for once- things might just go his way. But he should have known better. He should have known things would always end this way. He always pulled the short straw in life. And this was no exception.

He collapsed onto the ground, burying his head in his knees as he continued to cry. He was so pathetic. A fucking pansy. He was so close, so infuriatingly close to making it out of this body swap with everything returned to normal. 

And now there was no denying it. This was Kyle’s third strike. There was no coming back from this for Stan and Kyle’s relationship. And it was all Kyle’s fault.

He wasn’t sure how long he sat there, curled up against the wall, when he heard the door swing open, the hinges creaking as someone slowly walked in. Kyle didn’t look up, or even open his eyes to see who it was, but he could only guess. He tried to open his mouth to say something, but his voice only cracked, and he let out another sob. Whoever it was walked up to Kyle, sitting down next to him against the wall, not saying a word as Kyle tried to steady his breathing. He knew it was Stan without looking at him, which only made him feel worse, and he tried to wipe the tear stains from his cheeks.

“I… I didn’t want you to find out like this,” Kyle admitted, his voice shaky as he sniffled. His face was probably still a mess. “I wanted to tell you. I wanted to tell all of you. I just kept… getting in my own head about it.” He felt another wave of tears build up, “And if… you hate me now, I- I get it.”

There was a pause, and Kyle couldn’t take it. Oh god, was it worse than he thought? Was Stan that disgusted with him, he couldn’t even say anything? He squeezed his eyes shut even tighter as he heard Stan take in a breath, bracing for the worst.

“You… you thought I would hate you?” Stan asked, his own voice wavering.

Kyle’s eyes snapped open and he sat up, finally looking over at him with confusion, “You don’t hate me?”

Stan’s eyes were filled with remorse, eyebrows up turned in worry. “Of course I don’t hate you,” his voice was low, “Kyle, you’re… You’re my best friend. Why would I hate you?”

“Because I lied to you,” Kyle frowned, frustration bubbling up in his chest, unsure as to how Stan was completely missing the point, “I’ve been lying to you- to- to everyone for fucking years!” His voice cracked, “I’m…I’m not the kind of guy who should be your best friend.”

“Bullshit,” the directness of Stan’s voice caught Kyle off guard.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re not-” Stan stopped himself, biting his lip as he thought over his words, “Kyle, there’s been a lot of stuff we’ve both done that has fucked with our friendship, but this… this isn’t like that.”

Kyle scowled, “What? Your best friend being some big tranny isn’t enough reason for you to leave me for good?”

“Of course not!” There was a sense of disbelief in Stan’s tone, “Knowing your trans doesn’t make you some stranger to me all of the sudden. You’re still just Kyle. My best friend in the whole world.” Kyle couldn’t bring himself to speak. “I know we’ve had our ups and downs before, this week even, but it’s gonna take a lot more than that to get rid of me. After everything we’ve been through; the petty arguments, the actual fights... you deciding to side with Cartman during our superhero Civil War arc-”

“Stan.”

“What I’m trying to say is that, despite all that shit, we’ve stuck together,” Stan took in a breath before turning back to Kyle, “I would be a real idiot if I just let you go.”

To say that Kyle was shocked would be an understatement. He was utterly flabbergasted. Of all the ways he thought this would go with Stan… Sure, part of him had wanted it to go this smoothly, but he had never allowed himself to think he would be that lucky. “But you’re- you’re not mad?” Kyle asked, still anticipating the rug to get pulled out from under him, “Not pissed off? Even slightly?”

“I’m more mad at myself than you,” Stan fiddled with his thumbs, “I’m mad that I was someone you didn’t think you could have told sooner.” There was a brief flash of panic across his face. “Not that you, like, owed me anything,” he quickly added, “I just… I wish I could’ve been a better friend.”

“What the- dude, you are a good friend,” Kyle scoffed, “I’m the asshole here.”

“You’re not an asshole-”

“I could have told you so much sooner,” Kyle pointed out as Stan scowled at him, “I was just being… I was scared of how you would react. If that wasn’t clear enough.”

Stan nodded, brow furrowed, “I… I guess that’s fair.”

“Like, remember back in fourth grade?” Kyle asked, “Cartman thought he could get special bathroom treatment if he said he was ‘transginger’,” Kyle used air quotes as he rolled his eyes, “And then you started acting all weird about it.”

Stan’s face paled, “Gonna be honest, I kind of blocked out that week in my mind. There was just so much shit with my dad at the time I didn’t even clock- I was more confused about myself, I didn't really care about what the hell Cartman was trying to do.”

“Right, your dad.”

Either it was his tone, or the way his face dropped, but Stan’s worry was quickly overwritten by disdain, “Did he- He said some shit, didn’t he?”

Kyle sighed, “We don’t need to get into-”

“Please don’t push this aside, dude,” Stan cut him off, “If he said some bullshit then I want to know.”

He didn’t know why he was still so hesitant, it’s not like Stan was suddenly going to take his dad’s side after everything he had just told Kyle. But it still felt like a bit of an open wound. The conversation that had caused the fight, that had made Kyle say all that hurtful shit about Stan that he didn’t even mean.

“Him and your mom had gotten into a fight about something,” Kyle began to recount the tale, pulling his knees closer to his chest, “I was trying to fall asleep when he burst into your room, trying to have some sort of heart to heart, but he was just kind of rambling about nothing. Then he dropped the bomb that my mom had told your parents- all your guys’ parents- behind my back.” Stan reached out, putting a hand on his shoulder, and Kyle leaned into the touch, “That was bad enough but then-” he squeezed his eyes shut, “Then he said that if I didn’t want to be a girl, then that shouldn’t be his problem.”

“Kyle,” Stan’s voice was shaky, “I… I’m so sorry.”

“You don’t-” Kyle stopped himself as he turned to look at him. The way Stan looked at him… it wasn’t pity, which Kyle had expected, but rather sincere forgiveness. He wasn’t looking down at Kyle, like he was some kind of charity case. “Thanks.”

“So then why didn’t you-” Stan paused, then turned his head, “Nevermind.”

Kyle raised an eyebrow, “Nevermind what?”

“It doesn’t really matter now,” Stan shook his head, pulling his hand from Kyle’s shoulder, “I just need to stop talking before I make things worse.”

“Stan,” Kyle kept his voice stern, “Just ask, dumbass.”

Stan sighed, running his hands through his hair, “I guess I just don’t get- I mean, sure there’s a lot I do get, but-”

“You’re stalling," Kyle interrupted, narrowing his eyes.

“Why couldn’t you just tell me then?” Stan blurted out. “Thursday. Why didn’t you just tell me then?”

The question made Kyle’s stomach turn. It was a fair question, one that he had asked himself again and again that day.

“Because I was stupid,” the self deprecation made Stan frown, but Kyle quickly continued, “I started overthinking it, like fucking always, and by the time I could have said something,” he shook his head, “I’d convinced myself that it wasn’t worth the risk.”

“What risk?”

“That he had already told you,” Kyle’s eyes dropped to the floor, “The risk that you had known and that you… that you felt that same way as him. It was like, the worst possible scenario for me. That you would think I’m just some- some freak-”

“Don’t say that,” Stan stopped him, placing a hand on his, squeezing it tight, “You’re not a freak. You are one of the coolest, bravest guys I know, and I hate it when you can’t see yourself like that.” Kyle felt a tear run down his cheek, but Stan didn’t break eye contact. “Fuck whatever the hell Randy said, you’re more of a man than he will ever be.”

It was then the dams broke down, and Kyle collapsed into Stan’s arms, burying his head in his chest as his body was wracked with sobs of relief. Despite everything that had been thrown at him this past week, every little intrusive thought and worry that wiggled its way into his brain, Stan was there for him. Like he always was. Reliable, kind, good hearted Stan. 

“Thank you,” Kyle cried into his chest, his voice muffled by his clothes, but Stan was able to hear him, wrapping his arms around him comfortably.

“Of course,” he replied in practically a whisper, like this moment was sacred. Something just for them.

It didn’t take long for Kyle's eyes to dry, and he pulled himself away from Stan. “Sorry,” he apologized, wiping at his nose, “I’m such a pussy sometimes.”

“Yeah, how dare you get emotional,” Stan joked, bringing some levity back to his voice, “It’s not like you’ve been keeping this bottled up for years or anything.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Kyle’s serious demeanor instantly cracked as he fought back a laugh. It felt good, returning to their typical banter, the return to normalcy that Kyle had been hoping he would have today- tonight? What time was it anymore?

A beat passed as Kyle took in another breath, the stress dissipating from his bones with each second, and Stan cleared his throat, “Can I… can I ask you something?”

“Depends,” Kyle narrowed his eyes, his suspicions on high, “What kind of question?”

“I mean, you don’t have to tell me if it’s too personal,” Stan rambled, “But, you like, choose your name, right? Not your parents?”

Kyle blinked, surprised at how normal of a question it was. “Uh, yeah. I mean, I was like, pretty young, so they made sure I didn’t pick something weird, but I liked how it sounded.”

“Okay, so then,” Stan smiled, biting back a laugh, “Did you know you had a cousin named Kyle before you chose that name?” 

Kyle couldn’t help as a laugh escaped him, despite his voice going hoarse from crying. “I-” he could barely get a word out, “What the hell, man?!”

“What?” Stan asked defensively, barely able to contain his own laughter, “I think it’s a fair question.”

“But like, that’s your first question?”

“The way you won’t tell me makes me think you're embarrassed about the answer.”

Kyle sarcastically gasped, “How dare you?! My memory is impeccable! It’s a steel trap up here.”

“Uh huh, sure,” Stan playfully rolled his eyes, “So you definitely forgot his name was also Kyle.”

“I totally fucking forgot he even existed!” Kyle exclaimed, still laughing, “And it must have slipped my parents’ minds too. I don’t think we even realized it was a problem until he came to visit that first time,” he shook his head as he remembered the ‘we fucked up’ look on his parents' faces when his aunt from the east coast had called, “That was why my mom was so insistent to call me ‘Kyle 2’ because according to her, 'he’d had the name first, so it was only fair'.”

Stan grimaced, “Jesus Christ, that’s fucking awful.”

“I mean, she wasn’t wrong,” Kyle shrugged, “It just made it really awkward to explain to her side of the family afterwards.”

“Well, Kyle suits you better than it does him,” Stan said.

He couldn’t quite fight back the smile that made its way onto his face, “Thanks.”

Stan back smiled at him, giving Kyle that same look he had moments ago, when they had swapped back. Oh shit. There had been more Cartman had exposed than just Kyle’s fucking gender identity.

Kyle felt a blush rise to his cheeks, and he quickly turned away. “Look, I- about that stuff that Cartman said about a crush, I don’t know- I mean, I know why he said that, but I don’t want to make things weird or anything, so let’s just forget about-”

His rambling was cut off by Stan putting a hand on his shoulder and turning Kyle around to face him. Before Kyle could say another word, Stan squeezed his eyes shut, leaned forward and kissed him. Kyle’s thoughts screeched to a halt, and his heart threatened to burst from his chest. 

Was… was this really happening? Was Stan really… Oh my god, he was really- wow, Stan’s lips were chapped, how the hell had Kyle not noticed when he was in his body?

Stan pulled away after a few seconds, his face dusted red as he gave Kyle that stupid, dopey smile. “I’ve wanted to do that since fifth grade.”

Kyle’s heart jumped to his throat, “I- you- what?” he stammered out, his mind still a jumble of scattered thoughts, still trying to be rational, but screaming in excitement. The emotional whiplash of the day made him feel more lost and confused.

“Sorry, I should have asked,” Stan rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, “I just… I don’t want things to just go back to how they were.” He took a deep breath in, “I really, really like you Kyle. I have for a long time. It may have taken a while for me to realize that, but it doesn’t change the fact that you mean… everything to me.”

“You actually…” Kyle shook his head in disbelief, unable to calm his racing heart, “Even after everything?”

“You’re still the same Kyle I’ve always known, why would that change anything?” Stan warily placed his hand atop Kyle’s.

“I guess I thought… God, I’m such an idiot,” Kyle scoffed to himself.

“Given your track record with relationships, it’s not that surprising,” Stan laughed.

Kyle gasped in fake offense, punching Stan in the shoulder playfully, “How fucking dare you?!”

It only made Stan laugh even harder, “Hey, it’s not like I’m any better, dude.”

Kyle smiled, letting his and Stan’s fingers intertwine so that they were holding hands. “Do you… Do you think we could kiss again?” he asked, still feeling a little too overwhelmed to meet Stan’s eyes. “Not that I didn’t like it the first time or anything, you did great, I just… I think I could do better.” 

“I would like that,” Stan’s voice was soft. He brought his other hand up to cup Kyle’s face, meeting his gaze before closing his eyes, pulling Kyle in slowly for another kiss.

Being completely honest, it was pretty awkward. Kyle’s only other kissing experience was with Bebe back when they were eight. Granted, Stan had only dated and kissed one girl before, so it’s not like Stan was much better than Kyle. Pulling away, their eyes met once again, smiling at each other in complete bliss. There was a brief flash of panic across Stan’s face for a split second, and Kyle instantly recognized why.

“You’re not gonna puke on me, right?” Kyle asked.

“No,” Stan shook his head, but Kyle swore he looked more nauseous than before, “No, I’m good.”

“Are you sure?” Kyle slowly moved away from Stan, “Not that I don’t believe you, but I really don’t want to get puked on.”

“I’m- I’m fine,” Stan’s voice cracked, “Seriously.”

Kyle laughed, “Okay, okay, if you say so.” Realizing he was still holding Stan’s hand, a sudden fear that his palms were unnaturally sweaty ran through his mind. “We should probably get going. I should… explain things to Kenny and Butters.”

“Might be a good idea,” Stan squeezed Kyle’s hand supportively, “We’ve been in here a while. I feel like the guards should have noticed something by now.”

“Yeah, good point,” Kyle stood up, somewhat surprised that Stan hadn’t dropped his hand yet, but he wouldn’t complain. It made him feel all giddy inside. But walking back into the room, Kyle felt the panic build back up in his chest, just looking at the other three.

Cartman had his arms wrapped around his chest, leaning up against the Electron Swap machine with a disappointed scowl on his face while Kenny was talking with Butters, explaining something Kyle couldn’t quite make out. Unfortunately for Kyle, Cartman noticed them first, and pushed himself off the machine, turning towards him.

Kyle glanced over at Stan, and with just one look, Stan nodded and slowly dropped Kyle’s hand as he walked over to Cartman.

“Look, you don’t need to tell me I fucked up,” Cartman explained, “I know, okay? And I’m sorry. Like, genuinely, actually sorry. I really didn’t mean to-”

Once Kyle was close enough, his expression stern and unchanging, he cut off Cartman’s rambling with a swift knee to the groin, earning oo’s of sympathy from the other guys. Whimpering in pain, Cartman dropped to the floor, and Kyle crossed his arms.

“I think we can both agree you deserve that after all the shit you’ve pulled this week,” Kyle said, “What you did was not cool.”

“I know,” Cartman managed to squeak out, his eyes still squeezed shut, “Kinda why I was apologizing.”

“Good,” Kyle spoke promptly, “Now that that’s out of the way,” he stuck his hand out, an offering to help Cartman stand back up, “I… I forgive you.”

Cartman’s eyes snapped open, looking Kyle up and down in shock, “I… Are you serious?”

Kyle sighed, “Okay, maybe not like, completely. Not for the bullshit emotional, physical, psychological torment that you’ve put me through over the years-”

“That’s fair.”

“Because I want to be crystal-fucking-clear right now, you are still a fucking sociopath sometimes. That shit that goes through your head-”

“Kyle, was there a point you were trying to get to?” Stan asked.

“I’m getting there,” Kyle waved him off, “Look, Cartman. I know we’ve had our differences. But this past week… you weren’t as much of an asshole as you could have been. And if you’re actually trying to apologize, then I would be an asshole not to take your word for it.”

Looking up at him in utter disbelief, Cartman’s eyes swatted from his hand, then back to Kyle a few times. “Is this some kind of trap?”

Kyle’s face fell into an all too familiar scowl, “Just take olive branch, fatass.”

Cartman chuckled at the insult, and while he still seemed a little wary, he accepted Kyle’s hand as he helped him stand back up. “Thanks, Kyle,” he muttered, unable to meet his eyes.

Kyle smirked, giving him a quick, playful punch in the arm, “You try to pull that shit in front of other people from school I will kick your ass, do I make myself clear?”

“Alright, alright, I get it! How dumb do you think I am?” he questioned, his face quickly falling, “Don’t answer that.”

Rolling his eyes, Kyle turned his attention away from Cartman and over to Kenny, who was still standing near Butters. “So,” he started, clearing his throat, “I’m not sure if he explained the whole situation, but-”

“You can relax, man,” Kenny interrupted, “It’s all good. I… I’ll admit, it threw me for a bit of a loop, but I’m here for you dude,” He offered Kyle a hand, pulling him into a bro hug of sorts, “And if you keep trying to apologize, I’m gonna kick your ass, got it?”

Kyle laughed, “Won’t happen again.” He took a breath, allowing his mind to stop racing. All of his anxieties, all his worries, there had been no need. His friends were always going to be there for him. “Thank you, Kenny.”

“Don’t thank me for acting normal about it,” Kenny chuckled, releasing Kyle from the hug. Kyle turned to Butters, unsure what exactly to expect from the blond. His apparent confusion didn’t come as much of a surprise, though.

“I think I’m still confused,” Butters' brow furrowed, “So, do you wanna be a girl or-”

Kenny immediately turned to Butters, shaking his head, “No, no, other way around.”

“But Kyle’s- I mean, back when Eric came out- aw jeez,” Butters sighed.

“When Cartman-” Kenny scowled, shaking his head, “What are you talking about?”

“Ooooh, that,” Cartman laughed sheepishly, “That was such a dumb plan, anyway. I didn’t really think about just how long I would have to keep it up. Honestly, I was fucking relieved when the teachers changed their minds about that stupid bathroom.”

“Easy for you to say,” Kyle scoffed, “I got pulled from class because they wanted to check ‘how comfortable I was’ and if they could do anything more to help. Pretty sure I faked being sick for the rest of the week so I didn’t have to have any more weird talks with Principal Victoria.”

“Jesus, I forgot about that,” Kenny grimaced, “No wonder you kept it a secret as long as you did.” 

Kyle shrugged, “I mean, that didn’t really help my motivation to come out.”

“If anything, I was raising awareness,” Cartman argued.

“Uh huh, you’re such an ally,” Kenny rolled his eyes, “So, I’m guessing that was what you were gonna tell us back in the greenhouse?”

Kyle nodded, “I’d rather you hear it from me than find out yourselves,” he shot a glare over at Cartman, “At least that was the plan.”

“Two minutes earlier and they technically would have heard it from you,” Cartman pointed out. Kyle took one step towards Cartman, and he instantly cowered, covering his crotch in protection, “No, no, no, no, no! I already said I’m sorry, what more do you want from me?!”

“Gotta be honest, dude, I feel like he’s letting you off easy,” Stan answered, walking over to Kyle, and putting an arm around his shoulder, shooting him a supportive smile as they made brief eye contact.

Kenny’s eyes darted between the two of them, smirking as Kyle felt his face start to burn scarlet. “Oh,” he chuckled, “You two talked things through, I see.”

“What can I say, you give good advice,” Kyle shrugged, unable to stop the wide smile that spread on his face as he looked back at Stan, who was blushing just as harshly. 

“Wish we had done that sooner,” Stan admitted, “Would have saved us a lot of trouble.”

“You’re telling me,” Kyle laughed, “Given you’ve known you liked me since the fifth grade.” Stan dipped his head down sheepishly as Kyle playfully smirked. And Kyle thought he had been pining for ages. He was going to hold this over him for a while.

Their sweet moment was cut short, not even a second later.

“AHA!” Kenny exclaimed loudly, “You owe me ten bucks, fatass!”

Both Stan and Kyle scowled, looking between their friends in confusion. Cartman’s face was crestfallen, like he hadn’t expected things to go worse after the literal kick to the balls. Kenny… Kenny didn’t seem the least bit ashamed of himself, punching a fist in the air in celebration.

“Did… holy shit, you guys put money on us getting together?!” Stan’s eyes widened, glaring daggers at Kenny.

“Don’t get your panties in a twist,” Cartman groaned, “It was just about which one of you realized your feelings first.”

“That-” Kyle stopped himself, narrowing his gaze, “That is oddly specific of you.” He vaguely wondered if the bet was part of the reason why Cartman had wanted those journals of Stan’s. He was gonna need to tell Stan about that, granted he even remembered that he owned that journal in the first place.

“And after everything I’ve done for you, you’re still gonna make me pay up?” Cartman asked Kenny, the attempts to guilt trip him falling incredibly flat, given just how fed up with Cartman everyone had become at this point in the night.

“Oh, it’s the least you owe me,” Kenny rolled his eyes, “Given how bad your blabber mouth has been this week. It’s a wonder I only knew about Kyle being trans since yesterday.” 

Kyle scowled, blood running cold, “Wait, what? What do you mean?”

Kenny’s face dropped, “Shit.”

“I’m sorry, not only did you out me just now, but you found time before this shit show to tell Kenny?! Yesterday!?” Kyle exclaimed, pushing Stan away to turn and face Cartman.

“That was not my fault!” Cartman screeched, “Kenny was being a perv and kept trying to see what was under your shirt!”

Kyle turned back to Kenny, not quite believing Cartman, but more so to hear his side. Kenny looked just as thrown by the comment as Kyle felt, his mouth a gape, but more angry than confused. “That is not how that happened!” Kenny exclaimed.

“No means no, Kenny! I shouldn’t have had to say it twice!”

“That’s rich coming from you.”

“How dare-”

“Guys!” Stan yelled, cutting off their argument, “Feel like now isn’t the best time to be arguing about this.”

“Oh, this feels like the perfect time!” Kyle scoffed, throwing up his arms in defeat, “Anyone else have any big, life changing revelations they want to share with the group?!”

Kenny blinked, raising his hand shyly, “Uh, I’m immortal?”

Kyle glared, “I wasn’t being serious, Kenny.”

“That wasn’t-” Kenny’s response was cut off by the sound of a large thud on the front doors, followed by the sound scuffling of boots. 

“Shit, the guards,” Kyle hissed.

“They’re still looking for us? We’ve been back here for a minute,” Stan grumbled. There was another loud thud from the doors, the couch they had moved into place inching forward with the force.

“Okay, what’s the game plan? How do we get out of here?” Kenny asked rapid fire, moving forward in such a way to protect Butters in case the answer was to just straight up fight them.

“There’s another entrance behind us,” Cartman shot a quick look over his shoulder, “I say we just book it.”

“What?! Are you crazy?” Kyle snapped, “The guards-”

“Are all probably trying to break that damn door down!” Cartman cut him off, “You’re welcome to stay and fight your way through, but I’m getting the fuck out of here!” He didn’t wait for Kyle’s response, nearly tripping over himself as he booked it, shoes squeaking against the linoleum floors.

Kyle’s eyes darted between the rest of the group, and the double doors in front of them, then sighed heavily. “I fucking hate it when he’s right.”

“Let’s get out of here!” Stan shouted, grabbing Kyle’s hand, and started chasing after Cartman. Kyle’s heart rate jumped seeing his and Stan’s hands clasped together, but he only gripped tighter as he started running, his pace matching Stan’s.

It was chaos, running through the lab, only lit by the flashing red warning lights from the alarm that had been triggered earlier. Kyle could hear Mephesto’s voice muffled by the building speakers, commanding that the five of them stop running and turn themselves in. He should have been terrified, scared shitless, as anxious as he had been only an hour ago. 

But he wasn’t.

Honestly, it was hard to feel anything other than exhilarated with Stan’s hand in his. Seeing Stan’s body, not just in a mirror, but in front of him, looking back every so often to shoot him a soft smile, it felt like a dream.

Kyle would go on a million goddamn field trips to this accursed lab if it meant him and Stan could stay like this. Just… as themselves.