Chapter Text
It was a quiet day at the Marsh residence. At least, on the surface. In his room, Stan was lying in bed, his gaze fixed on the ceiling. On the outside, he seemed unchangeable, but on the inside, everything was chaos.
A jumble of thoughts assailed him relentlessly. And they all revolved around a single person: Kenny McCormick.
He couldn't pinpoint the moment it had all started. Maybe it was recent, or maybe it had been going on for years without him realizing it. The only thing that was certain was that he knew it now, and accepting it scared him. He had been in love before, with Wendy, of course, but that was different. They were kids then, they played at holding hands, at seeing each other as -boyfriends- because that's what the movies dictated. That was an innocent experiment.
What he felt now, on the other hand, was real. Palpable. Inescapable.
He thought of Kenny and his stomach churned. He remembered how he laughed, with that voice half-hidden behind his hood; how he sometimes took it off and showed off that rebellious blond hair and those blue eyes that seemed to shine too brightly for someone who lived in such a deprived state. Kenny always made jokes, always moved as if the world were a private punchline. And Stan couldn't stop looking at him.
-What the hell is wrong with me?- he muttered, squeezing his eyes shut in frustration.
Suddenly, a knock on the window pulled him out of his trance.
-Hey, Stan!- It was Kenny's unmistakable voice.
He peered out and saw him there, perched on the roof below the window as if doors didn't exist. His hands were in his orange jacket and his hat was crooked.
-Are you going to let me in, or are you just going to watch me freeze to death?- he joked.
Stan opened the window and Kenny jumped inside with his usual ease.
-Your room feels like an oven. Did your mom turn the heat on full blast again?
-Yeah…- Stan replied, fighting the nervousness that overwhelmed him whenever they were alone.
Kenny sat in the desk chair and spun around.
-So, what were you doing? I sent you a bunch of messages and nothing.
-I was thinking.
-Thinking? Ugh, how tough. I prefer not to do that much, it's tiring. -Kenny laughed and stretched like a cat.
Stan watched him out of the corner of his eye, trying to memorize every detail. His throat was dry. He wanted to blurt it out: -I'm in love with you-. But he held back.
-Want to play something on the console?- he ended up saying.
Kenny immediately accepted, as if it were the best offer in the world. They played for a while, throwing jabs and laughing at every mistake. It was their way of being together, disguising closeness with a competitive game.
Until Kenny interrupted him suddenly:
-Hey, Stan… you've been acting weird lately.
The controller almost slipped from his hands.
-Weird?
-Yeah, you're quiet, like your head is somewhere else. -Kenny looked at him intently-. Is something wrong?
Stan felt like his heart was going to burst out of his chest. This was the moment, he knew it. He could say everything. He could confess.
-Just… school stuff- he lied in the end.
Kenny watched him for a few seconds, as if trying to read him, but didn't press the issue.
-Bah, ok. Anyway, I know you'd tell me if it were something important.
Stan smiled weakly. And at the same time, he felt the weight of the irony. Because there was nothing more important than what he was keeping quiet.
The afternoon passed, and Kenny left through the window as always, waving with a carefree gesture. Stan watched him walk away with his hands in his pockets until he disappeared down the street.
When he closed the window, he felt a hollow in his chest.
That night, in his bed, he understood it without a doubt: it no longer mattered when he had started to feel it, or how. What mattered was that he was in love with Kenny McCormick.
And even though it scared him, even though it confused him, it was the most real thing he
had ever felt in his entire life.