South Park One-Shots (Completed)

Exchange School

(Michael x Pete)

{Pete's P.O.V}
I'm currently resting in a tree, texting Henrietta on my phone. If you're already asking why, here's the reason. Firkle, Henrietta, and I were in detention again yesterday inside the principal's office. When he decided to leave us alone for one of his conferences, we went looking through his files on his computer that he left on. We found that there's several new "exchange" students coming to this school. Looking through the new kids' files, they were all boring except one. I still remember everything that was on his file..

{Flashback}
"Henri, Pete, look at this one." Firkle interrupts our conversation, calling our attention back to the screen. "Who did you find this time Firkle?" Henrietta questioned, only glancing at the screen. "Some guy named Michael." He replies, turning in the chair to look at Henrietta. "Last name, Firkle. There's a lot of posers who are named that." I tell him, finally looking at Firkle after flipping my fringe out of the way, though it falls back to its place anyways. "He doesn't have a last name. It's blacked out. And he doesn't look like a poser. Take a look for yourselves." He states, moving himself and the chair out of the way. "Someone likes the chair." Henrietta smirked, watching him mess with all the chair's settings. I ignore them, opening this guy's file since Firkle closed it. Starting to read through it, I find out the basic information, and see that Firkle is correct. This guy doesn't have a known last name, his height is 6'2" which is taller that Henrietta and I, his father is from here and his mother is... probably not from America since it's been blacked out as well. 'Weird.' Anyways, he has a few piercings, wears all black, and has an issue with his right knee. 'That's kinda interesting I suppose. Still could be a poser.' I feel a tap on my shoulder, so I turn and face Henrietta holding the printed out file of Michael. "What?" I ask her, annoyed that she bothered me. She doesn't say anything, just unburies and shows me the photo of this guy. "He's definitely no poser. We've got to meet him." She tells me, setting the file down, letting me just stare at the photo. "How old is he?" I ask, setting the photo down before my blush starts to show through my concealer. "He's only 19, a year older than you Pete." Firkle tells me, getting up from the chair. "Might be the right one for you this time" He follows after Henrietta, who left the room already. Trying to process my thoughts, all I can mutter is "Shit" before following after them since Henrietta is yelling for me to hurry up.
{Flashback over}

Hearing footsteps coming closer, I snap back into the present and look outside the closest hole in the tree leaves. A few seconds later, he walks into view, reading a book while walking. 'He's even more handsome in pers—Shut up emotions.' He suddenly stops underneath the branches that I'm on, and I try to hide so I can reply to Henrietta and not be seen, failing to notice that I've shaken several of the tree's leaves loose and they're now falling into his hair and his book. 'Fuck. Don't look up, don't look up.' I quietly mutter hopefully.

{Michael's P.O.V}
"Hmm?" Cleaning the leaves off my pages, I close the book after bookmarking where I left off. Putting my book away, I look up at the tree I'm standing under, trying to find out if someone's up there. Spotting a pair of chestnut brown eyes staring at me, I slightly smirk and pretend not to notice them. Digging my cigarette box out of my messenger bag, I sit down and take one out. Lighting it, I take a drag, ignoring the stares of other posers as they walk pass. I don't feel like getting the leaves out of my hair. Noticing the guy with the chestnut brown eyes, and apparently black and red hair, is now sitting on the only closest branch to me in the tree, he begins to speak. "What are you doing here?" I just stare at him, letting my specifically-designed translation earring translate what he said to my original language, before answering with the language-help tongue piercing that's hidden since it's pretty small. "Smoking here. And you?" He looks over at someplace else, obviously thinking about something, but is blushing for some reason. "Sitting here. Can I have one?" He asks me, still not looking at me. "Sure." I get out another one, and he gets down out of the tree and sits kind of next to me, but I decide to give him mine instead of the unlit one. I don't really think he even noticed or cares anyway since he still isn't looking at me. "Would you like to meet my friends?" He asks, finally looking at me as I light my new cigarette. "Since I have nothing to do, sure." I say, getting up and grabbing my bag. He slowly gets up afterwards, and we both start walking to wherever his friends are. I think we're going to become good colleagues, or more, if things keep going like this.

{7 Months Later;Pete's P.O.V}
'Stupid fucking emotions and feelings.' Here's what happened. Michael now lives in the other bedroom in my dorm, and there's only one fucking bathroom inside here. I really needed to shower, and he left the bathroom door unlocked. So I walked in and saw that he's brushing his teeth with only black sweatpants on. He seemed unfazed by me walking in, but can you imagine how fucking red my face was? Just about as red, or even more than, as the red in my hair.

So now I'm laying across the couch in the living room, covered completely with the blanket that was on the couch. My face is still red from what happened a few minutes ago, my mind unable to get that image out of my head. Feeling someone lift up my head, I almost slap whoever it is. But the person sits down, having my head on their lap. They uncover my head and begin to comb their hand through my hair a bit. It calms me down a bit, and I look up to see that the person is Michael with a shirt on. He smirks a bit and continues with combing through my hair. My face becomes redder, looking away from his gaze towards the tv. Noticing that this show that is playing is in another language, I begin to speak. "Michael, why is the show playing in another language?" Looking back to meet his gaze again, I get a confused hum in response, and he stops to think for a minute. "Oh, it's the first language I speak." He slightly yawns afterwards, and I sit up on the couch so I can face him. "Really, what's it called? And why so tired?" I move a little closer to him since the blanket fell off me. "Just am. And figure it out for yourself, 宝贝" He closes his eyes, ignoring my attempts to get him to tell me what he just said.

I turn off the tv, leaning against his shoulder. I don't notice him wrapping his arm around my shoulders until he pulls me closer to him. "你很可爱, 爱你" I look at him confused. "What?" I realize that his face is really close to mine now. I freeze up, kind of confused why he's so close. "Heh. You do have freckles when you don't wear your foundation." He pulls back away, and after realizing what he just said, I slightly glare at him. Grabbing his collar of his shirt, I pull him back to me. "Just fucking kiss me already." He stares into my eyes, and before I get to say something else, he kisses me passionately. I kiss back with just as much passion, wrapping my arms around neck. Let's just say that in the end, we were finally dating, and he was fucking amazing. I don't regret meeting Michael.

Sometimes, getting to know a stranger can be a good thing to do.

(Hello lovely readers! It's Author here. Here's another story for you all. Sorry it took a while, I couldn't focus on what I was doing so many times. Thanks to Pinterest for the writing prompts posted on them. Hope you have a good day/afternoon/night! Bye!-Author)