changing my major

~ • ∆ one ∆ • ~

Caption: It was the little things that drove Stan crazy.

Not anything that a freshman in college would usually talk about like a guy having a nice ass or a chick having huge tits. Rest assured he'd tried to talk about those things with Kenny, but it never worked out because he was too fixated on the little things. Pretty, full, pink lips. A stupid laugh that no one else could match. Walking with just enough energy to draw attention to everything hot about a person.

And his best friend, Kyle, seemed to have all of those.

Stan would catch himself staring all the fucking time at that redhead. Kyle often got mad at Stan for not focusing in conversation, but he loved to just stare at Kyle for hours on end and count the freckles along his cheekbones. He couldn't help it, really. He usually sat right behind Kyle in the classes they had together, which was like, only one or two since they were studying different things, but that all meant he would find himself staring at Kyle even more, watching his fingers wrapped tightly around the pencil and the muscles in his thighs shift every so often because the seats were too uncomfortable.

Stan wasn't sure if Kyle knew about that all, and he really hoped he didn't. Whenever someone told Kyle he looked nice, Kyle did basically whatever he could to cover that feature up. The last time that happened was in tenth grade, when Kenny told him he had a nice ass so he did everything in his power to hide it from him. There were other times, too, and by the time Stan figured it out, Cartman did too, as he used that little quirk of Kyle's personality to make him feel like garbage for a good part of two months.

Even then, he still loved Kyle. Well, he only allowed himself to admit that Kyle looked cute. Not hot, because that was weird to Stan, but he was… cute. He had the cutest blush when he was mad, and always fumbled over his words when he had to talk to someone new. His curly, fiery hair reminded Stan of a fox, but he always wanted to slap himself thinking about it because the last time he tried to explain just why he thought that, Kenny laughed and called him a furry. (Kenny was only half wrong.)

Kyle hated being called “cute” which was understandable to Stan. He wasn't sure of the full thing, but Kyle was double-majoring, one in psychology and one in theatre, claiming he was interested in the human mind and wanted to learn more about people. That's just about where Stan dropped out of the conversation, but all Stan got from it was that Kyle was too important to be cute.

Kyle was the smart psychology/theatre major, always the most proper and prim “don't talk to me” person Stan's met. And Stan, was… well, Stan was his friend. Sure, he worked his ass off to get into this college, and hell, he was the first one to get accepted, even getting a fucking scholarship. But the second he got that scholarship and started to worry about having to leave Kyle, his best friend started working his ass off more than usual to get into that college as well. His dad had the money to cover it, and both of his parents were supportive. Not because it was Stan because they clearly didn't like Stan as much as Kyle did, but because that college was one of the best in the area.

And college had been fine, for a while. Stan enjoyed working hard, even if it didn't seem like that at times, and he liked going back to their apartment in the area to find Kyle on the bed that they shared because two beds would be entirely too expensive. Granted, they don't spend as much time together as Stan would like, with Kyle taking up later classes and Stan running around for his classes the entire day. He hadn't even noticed how… observant he'd became of his best friend, maybe unhealthily so.

But maybe that was okay. Kyle was someone that Stan liked to look at, nothing more.

~ • ∆ • ~

“So then, while Lottie was- Lottie is the woman who is playing Mrs. Murphy. While Lottie was getting ready, and like, she takes forever to get ready-” Kyle rambled on, pencil scratching against his paper. Stan had just about dropped out of the conversation by then, watching Kyle's pale hands grip the pencil tightly. He knew Kyle often got annoyed at him for that, and sometimes he felt bad, but he couldn't focus. They were sitting together on their bed, with Kyle trying to copy down notes from his History of Psychology class that he took in class but his handwriting was a little sloppy (Stan thought it looked fine but Kyle wasn't satisfied with it) so he decided to redo the entire thing in gel pens with cute little doodles of bees at the top to give it more personality.

Kyle was full of those little details, Stan always noticed. Doodling flowers and clouds and bees on the top of his History of Psychology notes (but none of the other subjects - maybe it was an assignment from the professor) was only one of the things he always did. If Kyle was a major of his own, a course to study and to get a degree in, Stan was sure he'd graduate in no less than a month with how much he's able to focus on Kyle.

“Stan, are you even listening?” Kyle asked. His accent had thickened over the years, making him sound ever so subtly like a character from Jersey Shore. Stan mocked him for it sometimes, but it was always one of the things he liked to notice.

“Zuh?” Stan took a second to snap back to reality. “Yeah, yeah I'm- I'm listening, dude.”

“What was I talking about, then?”

“Uhh…” He didn't know. “Sorry, dude, I- you know how I am.”

Kyle let out a small giggle, going back to his notes. Stan was fairly relieved that Kyle wasn't pissed, but he still felt a little bad as he rubbed the back of his neck guiltily. He liked listening to Kyle, but his Aspergers hadn't gotten better since fourth grade when he was diagnosed and he often found himself unable to focus. Kyle tried to be understanding, from what Stan could tell, and Stan was grateful as all hell for that.

“Well, that's all I really gotta say and, uh, even if you weren't listening, it's nice to talk sometimes. Mr. Planchette said that people often do better when they talk because humans are innately social creatures,” Kyle explained. Stan didn't even know what 'innately’ meant and here's Kyle, using it in a regular sentence.

“Sounds like regular Psych bullshit,” Stan snickered, giving Kyle a punch on the arm while he was switching out his pens. He hoped that it didn't hurt, but over the years, Stan had grown stronger, with how active he was, and Kyle just stayed the same. Kyle often liked to blame his own mediocre stature on the ridiculous amount of caffeine he drinks on a daily basis but he'd also stated before that it was all bullshit. Stan didn't mind Kyle being so short, it just added to the Reasons Why Kyle's Fucking Adorable list.

“Like you're any better,” Kyle rolled his eyes with a snort and a laugh. They'd known each other for God knows how long and that snort was still adorable to Stan.

Maybe Kyle had a point, though. Stan was majoring in music, of all things, because he wanted to make his life as interesting as possible even if he had to live at his parents’ house for the rest of his life. Well, houses. They'd divorced when he was 14, but he'd rather not think about that. But Stan really cared about music and the works, even if Kyle liked to make fun of him for being the most cliche meathead jock ever, being on the football team and absolutely loving sports. He'd talk about it as much as he allowed himself to.

“I do my best, dude. You know that,” Stan sighed with another chuckle. He really did. Even if he was a crippling alcoholic and everything, he really did try and like, can Kyle really ask for anything other than his best? Stan doesn't seem to think so.

“I know, I know,” Kyle giggled flippantly.

“You always know, Ky,” Stan snickered, resting his head atop Kyle's fluffy curls.