Stan's always had a reoccurring problem when it came to talking to the people he liked, or people he just got nervous around in general.

Whenever that person would talk to him or stand close enough, his weak stomach would act up, and he'd be vomiting all over their shoes not much later. He's tried seducing people regardless, but only one person stuck after that because of reasons nobody really knew at the time.

Stan thought it was disgusting, and he was glad that only a select few knew about it.

Because when Stan woke up on the morning of his birthday, he saw Kenny. He saw him laying next to him in his giant beanbag chair, and could only assume that he had decided to spend the night.

He threw up at the sight.

Not on him, thank Christ almighty he was able to break out of his delirious state and aim for the other side, but the quick motion and noise had been just enough to wake the other up as well.

It was around 4 in the morning. Stan, someone who liked waking up as early as possible to start the day, was tired as shit. But when Kenny woke up, he sat up, showing no evidence of him being groggy.

"Are you okay?"

The pit of his stomach churned at his words, and he found himself reeling and gagging.

"I'm..."

He tried humming to get himself to stop gagging. And, after a while, it worked.

Despite the chance that he was retching because of a sickness, Kenny patted his back, even rubbing circles as a sign of comfort.

"Thank God for hardwood floors, huh? It'll be easier to clean."

Stan narrowed his eyes, and glared at him, "Why are you still here?"

"What?"

"You told my mom that you weren't spending the night."

His mouth twisted uncomfortably. He backed up a bit, one of his hands scratching the back of his neck.

"I must've fallen asleep."

Even in this light, cast by a TV playing static, Stan could see Kenny's face perfectly.

Stan gagged at the sight, slapping a hand over his mouth.

"I'm sorry. I'll get a towel and clean this... shit up."

It wasn't the first time Stan had an episode like that. Just in case something like that would happen, he put towels under his bed, and kept them there for emergencies.

As Kenny said- thank God for hardwood floors.

He wiped the puddles off the floor, and rolled his towel into a ball to avoid touching it.

"You need a bucket or something?"

"Uh- I'm not sure. Probably."

"I can get one for you if you need it. Just say the word."

"You don't have to."

Stan resisted the urge to throw the vomit-stained towel at his sister's room, and instead walked all the way down to where the washing machine was. He threw it on top, and walked back to his room as if nothing had happened.

Kenny was right there when he got back, staring at the TV screen up until

"Sorry about that."

"Nah, it's okay. Want to watch a movie?" He offered, helping Stan back in a sitting position.

When he got a bit closer to Kenny, he shuffled uncomfortably, hoping that he wouldn't start gagging again.

"You don't have to stick around, you know." He muttered.

"I want to. I know how much it sucks to be sick."

"I'm not..." his voice trailed off.

He wasn't sick.

He knew he wasn't sick.

He didn't just throw up because of a stomach bug. He threw up sometimes because of motion sickness, or how much the weather was fucking with him. And sometimes, with a special person, he'd throw up simply because they existed in his presence.

Oh.

OH.

At the obvious realization, Stan felt his face heat up.

No- no. No thank you.

"You're not what?"

But Kenny couldn't have known that.

Stan grimaced, putting a hand up to his stomach to make him look as sick as he should've been.

"I'm not feeling well."

It wasn't exactly a lie. He wasn't feeling well at the moment, but he knew that what he said could've been taken differently.

Kenny smiled, pushing the blanket on to him. Though Stan had no memory of either of them getting the blanket, he gladly accepted part of it anyways.

"I'm sorry you got sick on your birthday, dude. I'm still here if you want to hang out."

In the comfortable silence that followed, Kenny chose a well-known movie, and Stan hoped that he would be able to keep his mouth shut if he didn't enjoy it.

__________

When the movie finished, it was around 6 in the morning, and both of them were unfortunately still awake.

"A penny for your thoughts?" Kenny muttered, eyes glued to the credits.

The movie was terrible. Absolutely terrible. If Stan wasn't so tired, and if he wasn't with a new friend he didn't want to lose, he would've told him the truth right away.

"I... liked it."

Kenny scoffed. "Uh huh."

He rolled his eyes, "No, I'm serious."

Stan took the remote away from him, and turned off the TV.

"Well, I didn't like it."

Stan sighed in relief.

"Thank God, it was terrible."

Stan then did the one thing he told himself not to do to and explained how much he hated it. He hated the characters, much like he did with every horror movie, mostly because they were fucking stupid and their opinions changed every 25 seconds. The antagonist was easy to beat, and without the unnecessary amount of drama that they just COULDN'T put aside for 3 fucking minutes, the movie would've been a lot shorter and more durable. The setting was another thing that bigger him- the characters stayed in this cabin in the middle of nowhere, and didn't leave after seeing multiple and very disturbing warnings. Call him a pussy, but Stan would be out of there in an instant.

"Unfortunately, if I were in these movies I'd be the dramatic friend, so I'm probably being very hypocritical when I'm complaining about...." he trailed off after he saw Kenny smiling down at him.

His lips pursed awkwardly.

"What?" He asked, the smile dropping.

"No, it's- I'm rambling."

"You made some good points there, Stanley. Though if it weren't for the drama, the movie wouldn't have been this long."

"Good."

When Kenny laughed, Stan smiled.

"All right- I think it's time to turn in for the night."

"It's morning."

"Yeah, but everyone else isn't going to be awake for another few years"

"When do you usually wake up?"

"7." He stretched out a little, "If you want to sleep in my bed, you can. You're the guest or some shit."

"Are you sure? It's your bed."

"Yeah yeah, shoo."

The blond shrugged, getting up off of the beanbag chair to move to the bed. The moment he left, Stan laid down in his spot, smiling at how oddly warm it was.

"Night, dude."

"Night."

They both laid in complete silence, though neither really slept after that point.

_________

"Happy birthday to you-!"

When the people standing around his table stopped singing, Stan blew out his candles, muttering something when he realized that he forgot to make a wish.

"What did you wish for, Stan?" His mother asked, grabbing both of his shoulders from behind.

"I can't say, or else it won't come true."

"That's retarded." Shelly slurred, "Just tell us."

"Fuck off."

"Language." His mother scolded.

Stan glared at his mom.

"She called me retarded!"

"She's an adult, she's allowed to say those kinds of things."

Stan groaned.

"I'm going to hang out with Kenny."

"Do you want any cake?"

Stan glanced over at Kenny, who was looking at him with pleading eyes.

"Yeah- yeah, sure."

The cake eating didn't last very long. Stan, despite his mother's protests, took the smallest slice, while Kenny got as much as he could all on one plate.

Once Kenny finished, Stan threw the paper plates away, and finally got to leave the damn building.

What they weren't expecting was someone standing by the front door.

Stan and Kenny both froze once the door opened.

In front of them stood a familiar redhead, who also froze once he noticed Stan walk out.

Kenny knew exactly who this was. He met Kyle back when he was transitioning from elementary school to middle school.

Back then, he had this weird obsession with this weird green hat, and left it once he was going to high school. To his chagrin, he ditched that hat for something else just as stupid. A yellow beanie that used to fall off whenever he ran.

Now he was standing there with that stupid green hat he never wore anymore, just staring.

"Stan." He looked over at the blond, "Kenny."

"Kyle," Kenny said for him.

Kyle held out the red envelope, staring intensely at Stan until he finally took it. Once it was in his hand, Kyle pivoted on his heel, and walked away.

"What was that about?"

Once Kyle was out of sight, Stan tore open the envelope, expression unchanging even after he noticed what was inside.

It was a birthday card with a 20 dollar bill taped to it.

"He hasn't sent me a card in years."

"He's..?"

"Yeah." He swallowed the lump in his throat, reading the writing on the card.

Happy Birthday, dude

I know we don't hang out that much, but I'm going to be blunt and honest.

Craig and his boyfriend are slowly merging with the original group and, you didn't hear it from me, but the dude's a dick.

Knowing they won't be going anytime soon, I was wondering if we should hang out again sometime.

Like old times

-Kyle

PS- tell Sparky I said hi

He almost crumpled the damn thing from the last few sentences.

Kenny thought back to what Stan told him when they first met, frowned, and put a hand on his shoulder as a sign of comfort.

"I'm sorry."

Stan held up the bill.

"Wanna get booze with this?"

Kenny's face contorted into something angry.

"No, you're not doing that again."

"Then I'm out of ideas."

"What do you usually do on your birthday?"

"Sleep. You?"

Kenny thought for a moment, before his face lit up.

"I have an idea, but we have to kill some time first. Come on."

Stan ended up throwing away the letter.