Chapter Text
Kyle knew for a long time, he simply refused to acknowledge what was happening until he was in far too deep. He was stubborn, but in the end he was forced to admit what he’d tried for literal years to push down.
He assumed everyone had thoughts like that, he thought everyone once in a while looked at a friend and considered the fact they were attractive and that they’d fit together romantically. He’d mostly just been surprised it had been directed towards a close friend. And he’d pushed it away. It wasn’t important. It was merely a thought.
He had a few girlfriends. Kyle crushed easily but fell in love slowly, hesitant to begin a romance unless pushed or until he became certain on his own. He didn’t have a lot to choose from, after all, and was fairly certain years later that a few of them he hadn’t actually cared for the way that he thought.
It was hard to date in a place where you knew everyone so well, after all. He had a bad breakup with a girl he really liked in high school, one that ended with a lot of hate and bitterness on both sides.
He had a quick fling with a Ivy-bound boy from another school’s basketball team a few months after, hoping to find love in someone more like him. He quickly grew annoyed and dumped the kid, swearing off dating forever when he told his friends about it afterwards.
It was then that his gaze settled once again on Kenny, the blond listening to Kyle and Stan smacktalk his exes as Kyle laid on the floor, Kenny watching from the bed.
His stomach flipped.
It was something he tried to push back again, ignore, because people didn’t grow up crushing on friends. It was- people grew up with other people that close, they had to like- like have an anti-incest button in their brain, or something, because yes Kyle did occasionally look at guys and find something attractive but this was Kenny, he knew the kid like he was his own brother and he should not- shouldn’t be-
He watched Kenny too closely and had for years.
It was mostly effortless to pass it off as normal. He laughed at Kenny’s idiotic humor, used him as a mouthpiece to tell dickheads to piss off, leaned against his tiny frame in middle school like a crutch, traded off with Stan to make sure that Kenny was looking after himself, too, not just his baby sister, sitting next to him more often during school or jumping to his defense with vitriol that surprised even himself.
What was harder? Explaining why he began watching him physically.
It was taking longer looks in PE, silent as Kenny was forced to take off his coat that he threw on over his gym clothes, eyes taking in a small frame and golden-brown hair. Having to brush away the urge to grab him and hold him close as mere protectiveness, ignore the fury at insults and filthy names as loyal friendship.
He had lean legs, clear eyes, and when they weren’t obscured by a hood it was so, so easy to pick up on his natural little expressions. The small furrow of his brows in distaste, smirks when he was happy, and that urge to grab and hold and touch burned in him so furiously that he roughhoused with the boy during the PE game despite it being no-contact. Like a fucking creep.
Stan’s weird look made a little more sense now.
Oh god, how long had Stan known? When Kyle expressed distaste for Kenny’s partners had he known it wasn’t just because ‘he/she was an asshole to me once’? Did he realize before Kyle did that his dislike of Kenny’s… ‘lifestyle’ choices wasn’t just because ‘he’s looking for something they aren’t going to give him’?
He disliked all of Kenny’s dates and hated any of his non-romantic partners, to the point where he told Kenny to shut the fuck up about sexing with some bitch in high school, because it made him physically sick.
After the initial surprise, (and what he later suspected was hurt,) Kenny had laughed him off, but Kyle had genuinely felt ill.
He hadn’t admitted it to himself. He was jealous.
Jealousy towards Kenny became so embedded in his life that he normalized it. They almost stopped being friends over it, because Kyle had no chill and Kenny was growing tired of his shit.
He finally had to admit it to himself when he couldn’t date anymore. When he was so over-the-top infatuated that he was fucking up his own ability to function he finally had to take a step back and realize what was happening.
He was completely in love with one of his best friends, and honestly? It wasn’t that surprising.
Kenny was vibrant. The boy radiated strength, a quiet sort of power, always in the scene somewhere silent and cheery as they fucked shit up together. Out of them all, he was the one who stood out, the one Kyle could pick out of a crowd of thousands, the brave, selfless, sweet boy from the other side of the train tracks.
The word ‘brave’ came to mind subconsciously, when Kyle investigated his own heart he wasn’t sure why, only that it was the first word to come to mind and it felt odd. Warm, almost proud, but also longing, something akin to grief.
Selfless, because Kenny had a small handful of people he loved and if he hurt them, it was mostly ignorance, not malice. He’d die for his siblings, his friends, gladly.
Why did he feel that rush of grief again?
Kenny was sweet. His affection was far less obvious than Kyle, for example, or Stan, both of which would speak openly about both love and hate. Kenny was soft touches when you were talking, or leaning on you when you were upset, patting Kyle’s shoulder when he was distraught.
He was beautiful. He was always pretty, bordering on ethereal, an otherworldly look to mosaic blue eyes and a thin, symmetrical face.
Then he grew in junior year and outgrew Kyle by about two inches, beginning to fill out and become lean rather than just thin, catching Kyle’s attention as he towered over probably 85% of the school.
He stopped wearing hoods in senior year, exposing golden-brown hair and a far better haircut to the light gladly, flaunting smirks and smiles until Kyle had no choice but to look.
Their shared history began to draw Kyle closer, rather than scare him away. He knew who Kenny was. He knew he got angry, felt frustrated, even hated people sometimes. Knew he felt isolated, lonely. Knew he hid insecurity and a need for affection behind bad jokes and self-deprecating humor.
And Kenny knew Kyle. Knew he was a total asshole with little regard for anything outside his own interests. Knew he was proud, sometimes condescending and uppity, also hiding some major insecurity. Fear. It took admitting to him one night, sitting on the hood of a broken-down vehicle in the McCormick’s front yard, to realize that Kenny knew that all along.
“You’re too smart to give up now,” The kid had snorted, lying on the cool metal, arms above his head and making his shirt ride up. Exposing his hips and part of his waistline to Kyle’s gaze. “At least fail before you get discouraged, dude, Jesus.”
“I’m not that fucking smart,” He’d admitted, tearing his gaze away to look out over the yard, following the line of the train tracks. His teeth were grit to avoid making any expressions Kenny could read. “For here, sure. I’m a fucking genius.”
“Already you’re looking down on us,” Kenny scoffed, halfheartedly smacking his shoulder. “Whatcha gonna do when you become a doctor, or a lawyer, marry some rich babe, live in some swanky-ass house in a city. You gonna come back at all, at that point?”
Kyle licked his lips, leaning back with him on the car. “I don’t want a rich babe.”
“Nothing wrong with that,” Kenny said easily. “Ride life solo, my dude. Whatever makes you happy.”
“That’s not what I mean.” Kyle picked at the sleeve of his own sweater, feeling a stab of annoyance. “I don’t want to be a doctor, or a lawyer, and I don’t want a fancy house or a rich babe. I’m not some genius out to change the world, I’m tired of people telling me what I want to do when I don’t even fucking want it!”
Kenny’s hand came down over his own, firmly, stopping Kyle from tearing up his sleeves. He wasn’t saying anything, he didn’t even look at him. Just clasped his wrist at first, warm fingers pressed against his pulse.
“That shit comes up a lot with you, bro,” Kenny’s thumb rubbed against the underside of his wrist. “Just fuckin’ don’t do it. Stop panicking over it.”
“I’m not panicking,” Kyle defended automatically, not bothering to tell himself the chills were due to the Colorado fall.
“Shut up, Kyle.” Kenny dragged his hand onto his stomach, the worn sweatshirt soft against Kyle’s fingers. “It’s just me, dude.”
It’s just him.
Just smirks and smiles in sunlight and the clear blue sky, a steadfast personality overlooked for louder voices. The responsible, level-headed young adult no one seemed to notice.
Kyle hadn’t noticed.
And then he noticed too much.
Kyle shifted, resting his head with a soft thunk against Kenny’s shoulder. The blond resumed stroking his wrist, warmth soaking into Kyle’s skin.
He’d watched, and he’d been jealous, and he hadn’t let himself realize that for so long he couldn’t exactly pinpoint where it all began. He had no idea where he wanted it to end.
Kyle swallowed.
“Where would you want to go?” Kyle asked, staring up at the sky. “If you could go anywhere.”
Kenny said nothing, humming slightly as he seemed to think it over.
He was in love with Kenny. Was proud of him, proud to know him, cared fiercely to the point where it became detrimental to their continued friendship and yet he couldn’t yank himself away. He didn’t know where to begin, how to begin, when all of this was so familiar that it was normalized in his life.
“Where you going?” Kenny suddenly said easily, nonchalantly. “I might tag along if you ever want a buddy.”
Kyle inhaled. Slowly, body freezing.
He admitted it to himself, accepted it. His jealousy and his affection. He could move on with it now. Make peace.
But he always was a stubborn bastard.
“What if I don’t want a buddy?” He asked, setting his jaw. “But I still want you around?”
Kenny wasn’t stupid. Kyle gave him a moment to decipher that, decide what he wanted to say. He felt Kenny tap on his wrist with the tempo of someone deep in thought.
“Anyone else in this picture?” Kenny’s tone nearly matched Kyle’s in it’s determination. Just as firm.
“No.” Not a fucking chance. Kyle’s fingers twisted into his sweatshirt, still keeping his eyes on the stars. “Just us.”
Kenny said nothing, breathing, still thinking.
Possessiveness and jealousy weren’t exactly positive emotions, Kyle knew. But in the end he was Kenny’s, even if Kenny wasn’t interested. Surely there was something good in that? Love wasn’t meant to destroy this ferociously, right?
His thoughts were interrupted. Kyle stared unseeingly at the sky.
“Oh, then hell yeah, baby.” Kenny’s joking words were undermined by the breathy laugh. A sound that jolted Kyle into action, at last.
The sound of someone just as terrified of this new development, and just as hopeful.
Kyle sat up with ferocity, whirling and finding Kenny grabbing at his sweater. The boy kissed him, meeting Kyle for a very awkward and painful bump of mouths before laughing and kissing him properly.
Kenny was very talkative physically. Touch that boy and you get all his secrets. Years of mutual jealousy and pining exposed, yearning making them unable to keep their hands off each other. Kenny was passive while Kyle was ferocious, a dimmer fire and less outward anger, but met him emotion for emotion.
Kenny could coax secrets from Kyle with words. Kyle could coax secrets from him with affection.
He didn’t even know Kenny could be jealous, which he’d said stupidly in utter shock, and got a swat on the ass for.
Kenny was laid back in relationships. Didn’t meant he couldn’t be jealous or feel possessive. He just wasn’t such a dick about it.
Not like Kyle.
But he’d gotten him.
He’d gotten the boy.
(Had he gotten Kenny or had Kenny gotten him?)
Kyle knew what this had been for the longest time, he simply refused to acknowledge what was happening until there was no point of return. He was stubborn, but in the end that worked in his favor. In the end, what had been eating at Kenny was finally given some reprieve.
In the end, whatever tumultuous past they had might finally be put to rest, and negative feelings replaced by something better. Productive.
Something better for the future.