Call It What You Want To - Style

03. Prove It

"Whatever, man," Kyle says, shaking his head and going back to his work.

"I wasn't making fun of you, I was just saying!" Stan chuckles.

Kyle huffs. "Well, I do not want my first kiss to be with Stanley God damn Marsh," Kyle insists. Stan scoffs, straightening his back and placing a hand against his chest, feigning offense. Kyle nods his head and laughs quietly. He sighs. "It has to mean something," he adds. "That's," he tilts his head, "why I haven't kissed anyone yet."

Stan laughs louder than he means to. "Oh, sure," he jokes, " that's why."

"Fuck off, dude." Kyle pushes himself against Stan amusedly, and Stan is knocked over, laughing.

"It wouldn't hurt to practice!" Stan pulls himself back up and it puts him right next to Kyle, their thighs touching side-by-side. "Don't wanna fuck it up with that special someone, huh?" He shimmies his shoulders against Kyle as his eyebrows raise and fall suggestively.

Kyle ignores the comment. "How the hell do you practice kissing without kissing?" Kyle asks instead.

"I don't know," Stan says simply, shrugging again.

Kyle doesn't respond. Stan listens to him write. The dull din of lead against paper is oddly calming.

"I'm tired," Stan says. With a yawn, he stretches out and lays his head on Kyle's lap. Kyle barely swoops his book out from under him. This isn't uncommon; Stan can fall asleep anywhere and whoever's closest in proximity to him at that time is getting Stan's full body weight against them.

"I'm trying to do homework," Kyle complains. He bucks his knee up against Stan's head and Stan says something between "ow" and "agh," even though he knows it didn't hurt.

"You can hold your notebook," Stan whines. Kyle groans but does so anyways, leaning it against his hovering forearm. He scratches math into the paper with his mechanical pencil, the same one he's had since freshman year.

Stan watches him through the sliver of a window between the notebook and Kyle's chest. A while ago, Stan noticed that Kyle sticks his tongue out when he's focused. "It doesn't have to count, you know," Stan says.

The pencil stops moving, and Kyle moves his arm out of the way. He looks at Stan in the way he does, when he doesn't understand something or is waiting for the speaker to elaborate.

"It doesn't have to count as a first kiss," he says, sitting up. Kyle still doesn't get it. He tries to explain as best as possible, saying, "Like, if I help you practice. You don't have to count it. It's just, you know, practice."

Kyle looks at him in a different way this time. Not like he's waiting, it's something else. Almost like he's uncomfortable. Stan's stomach sinks and he immediately feels guilty. He tries to play it off with a joke. "I mean, it's probably better to know what you're doing."

Thankfully, Kyle responds with the same energy. "I know how to kiss!" he cries defensively.

"No, you fucking don't," Stan teases, head shaking.

"Yes, I do, prick," Kyle spits, leaning closer towards him.

"Yeah?" Stan asks with raised eyebrows.

"Yeah."

Their eyes are locked and their faces are mere centimeters from each other.

"Prove it," Stan says.

The centimeters are gone as Kyle closes the gap between the two, leaning forward and pressing his lips against Stan's. Stan kisses back. Stan does not think about how soft Kyle's lips are. He does not think about how it seems they fit perfectly together. He does not think about Kyle's hand on his knee. His hand reaches up to hold Kyle's face, but the ginger pulls back before he can. Kyle sits there, cheeks already flushed from the short contact. Kyle unconsciously licks his lips ever so slightly.

Their faces are so close together, and they don't try to move apart. "Yeah, you need the practice," Stan says with a small chuckle and smirk but it doesn't have the same kind of feeling that their usual jokes have. It makes sense that you don't joke the same way with someone when you've just kissed them and are close enough to do it again. Kyle doesn't look uncomfortable now. He smiles back, and Stan can't help his eyes flickering down to Kyle's lips. It's only natural, he tells himself.

"You kissed!" someone says. Kyle and Stan practically jump halfway across the room from each other as their heads whip towards the source of the noise. Kyle's little brother is standing in the doorway, jaw on the floor.

Kyle jumps off the bed and rushes towards the door. "Ike, get out of my room!" he yells, pushing Ike out and slamming the door. He stands there for a second, turned towards the door with fists clenched at his sides still, and it's almost like he doesn't know what to do. Then, he turns to Stan and Stan can tell he really doesn't know what to do.

"So," Stan says. ".About that date."