Chapter Text
It was kind of cruel.
Forced to be here, waiting, anticipating, for the declaration of fate when he pretty much knew the gist of how it would happen.
Stan’s been dating Wendy for years now. He seems to have had less and less time for Kyle, despite the fact that he’s always there for him whenever they hit a rough patch in their relationship. Stan never quite seems to get it. The meaning of the transactions. The stability of Kyle’s loyalty.
It’s…not just friendship.
He’s known he’s loved him for more than five years now. Probably closer to ten. No matter who he’s introduced to, no matter how many times Stan and Wendy get back together, Kyle never loses sight of him. He’s never been interested in anyone else.
That’s why he knows that the day it happens, the string will take him right to Stan—who won’t even notice.
He’ll be occupied by his own fate—with Wendy. Triple threads don’t happen often, but when they do, it usually ties the whole triad together. Kyle has never heard of a case where it’s been one-sided. He just knows it’s the way it’ll be. Or worse—if Stan is somehow bound to both of them, he’ll surely sever ties with Kyle. Metaphorically.
“Got mine yesterday.”
Kyle stiffens. “You’re joking.”
“And what would I gain from that, Kahl?” Cartman shows him every one of his tiny off-white teeth. The redhead wishes he could knock a few out of his grin. “Why would I make something up just to make you seethe?”
“You know what you’re doing.”
“I do. And oh, I love that I got it before you. Because I’m serious.” Cartman wiggles his ring finger at him. “And it’s you.”
Kyle hardly processes what he’s said before he’s shoved him. “Don’t push it, fatass. I’d see it if it were me.”
“Jeez, Kyle, it was just a joke.” Pudgy hands pat down his shirt. “But I’m serious. Dead. I got mine.”
“Whatever.” Kyle stuffs his hands in the pockets of his jacket and rushes away before Cartman can tell he’s actually under his skin this time.
Down the hall, Kenny hovers at Craig’s locker, back turned to Kyle. The redhead claps him on the shoulder. “Hey, dude. Any news?”
Craig shoots him a look as he shuts his locker and walks away. Kenny shifts slightly, burying his nose in the neck of his parka.
“Dude?”
“Yeah, uh.” The blonde slips out his hands and turns them over. “I got mine.”
“Who is it? Tammy?”
Kenny says nothing, his eyes trained where Kyle assumes the thread must be. He clears his throat, getting the picture.
“But—you guys have been going out forever—”
“It’s Butters,” he says in a hushed tone, finally locking eyes with him. “I’ve literally never thought of him as someone to date, and now I’m—what, supposed to spend my life with him?”
Kenny presses the heel of his palm to his brow, now creased.
“I love Tammy, dude. I can’t just throw all that away over some dumb string. I knew it was supposed to be her. You think they ever get it wrong?”
Kyle sputters. “Wrong? No—it’s never been wrong before. Everyone ends up happy with their soulmate.”
“So what? I have to break it off?” The blonde huffs out a breath and kicks the tile with his boot. “I don’t know. I don’t like how much power this thing has over our lives.”
“It’s scary.” The redhead rubs the back of his neck. “Did Craig say anything? Did he get Tweek? They’ve been together nearly as long as Stan and Wendy.” Minus the breakups.
“He doesn’t know yet. I hope not. I don’t wish this on anyone.”
It feels like Kyle’s swallowed an anchor. Right. Not even Stan and Wendy.
“I gotta get to class,” Kenny mutters, already walking away. He languidly raises a hand. “See ya.”
Kyle watches him vanish into a classroom before looking down at his own empty ring finger.
Little feet passed by a tiny trickle of stream down the lush hill. They balanced across a fallen log, arms extended as they teetered. The boys giggled, unbothered by the scratches and scrapes that littered their sun-scorched skin.
“Stan! Slow down!” The redhead laughed, trying to grasp at his arm but only reaching his elbow. At the same time, Stan overcompensated the tilt, foot slipping off the bark and he crashed into the pillow of moss below.
“You idiot!” Kyle hopped off beside him and tumbled onto him. The two tussled, pulling hair and pushing at each other’s faces, staining their clothes with more dirt and grass. Their laughter never ceased until they collapsed side by side, attempting to catch their breaths.
Kyle turned his head. He watched his friend’s chest rise and fall with every breath, noted the crumbs of dirt across his cheeks like freckles. Stan finally caught his eye and smiled.
“Can we stay like this forever?” He asked. It wasn’t fleeting. It wasn’t about to go anywhere anytime soon.
“Like what?”
“Us.” The redhead looked back up at the sky through the gap in the trees. It was mostly blue, only a few clouds in the way. “Just us.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Stan grinned at him the best he could with one of his front teeth missing. “I’m never going away.”
“Promise?” Kyle stuck out his pinky. “Promise to never let stupid girls get between us?”
“Promise.” Stan hooked his pinky around Kyle’s. “Why would I need a dumb girl when I have you anyway?”
The nightmare starts one foot off the bus.
The word spreads like wildfire. Kyle doesn’t feel like he can crawl out of the embers.
Stan and Wendy are soulmates.
He knew it. He’d always known, yet he can’t stop himself from feeling sick to his stomach.
He runs to the bathroom, grabs onto the toilet bowl and tries his best to just breathe. What did he expect? Did he have any hope, anyway? Is this what it’s about? It’s all gone now?
Kyle combs back some tangles, trying to bite back the sting in his eyes. He shakes his head and as he closes his eyes he sees it. It’s nearly his undoing.
Red twisted around his finger.
He falls backwards, onto his other hand, as he gapes at the twine. It’s here. His moment. The truth.
The redhead scrambles to his feet and sprints out the door and down the hall. His shoulder bumps into someone so fast he nearly doesn’t collect who it is.
“Oh, hey Kyle.”
He trips over the voice. His head snaps back to look at Stan with Wendy on his arm. His friend raises an eyebrow at him.
“Everything okay?”
Kyle looks down at his own hand. Then at Stan’s. Back at his own.
They’re not connected.
His hand slaps over his mouth by instinct, but he doesn’t heave. His knees tremble. His stomach feels hollow—sinking, sinking, sinking.
How?
“Dude.” Stan places a hand on his shoulder. Gentle as always. He leans his face in slightly closer. “What’s going on? You look—well, kind of shit, honestly. You look like you’re gonna puke.”
All Kyle can manage is a laugh. A vacant, sporadic laugh.
He spins so fast he feels dizzy, but catches the stretch of the string as he does. He follows it, heart hammering in his throat. It feels pointless to follow. Stan’s not even on the end of it.
It guides him out of the school. Down the road. Through the town. Just when he’s about to give up and turn around, he notices the end is in sight—it creeps under the door of a house in an adjacent neighbourhood to his.
He thought he knew everyone in South Park, but he doesn’t recognize the house—at least, he can’t pair it with its owner. Cautiously, he approaches, hesitating a moment before ringing the doorbell.
The door cracks open. A brown-haired boy about the same age studies him before a smile blooms across his face and he sticks his hand out.
“Hello there, mister! You must be one of the public school boys!”
“Uh…” Kyle glances around before assessing his hand. No string. He shakes it. “Hey.”
“Mark Cotswolds, sir. And you are?”
“Kyle, uh…Broflovski.” He leans to look past him. “Do you have any brothers?”
“Brothers? No. I do have a sister, though. Would you like to meet her? Rebecca!”
Kyle stiffens as the girl comes downstairs. She looks similar to her brother, a bit younger, smaller, and much more nervous. She doesn’t come close, but her eyes dart across Kyle with apprehension.
And there it is. The other end of the string. She sees it, too.
Without another word, the redhead turns and runs back down the block. A girl? Is this for real? He’s never been interested in any girls before, but the only boy he has been interested in was Stan.
He fumbles his phone out of his pocket and dials Kenny. No answer.
“Fuck, dude, pick up,” he tries again. Nothing. After sending a few heated texts, he heads for his house. He doesn’t believe for a second that he isn’t skipping.
He flings the door open without knocking—usually not the best idea when it comes to Kenny—but there he is. On the couch with—
“Butters?” Kyle gawks. The two look comfortable together, Kenny’s arm slung around the shorter one’s shoulders. It’s been about a week since they found out. He never heard of a breakup.
“Oh, hiya, Kyle.”
“Dude.” The redhead shakes his head in disbelief. “You’re making him skip?”
Kenny shrugs. “His parents shouldn’t be grounding him anymore. He’s an adult soon.”
“Yeah. Why, I oughta stand up for myself some more.”
The redhead sighs and rubs his face. “Kenny, can I talk to you?”
“‘Kay.” The blonde rocks himself upright and joins him outside.
“What about Tammy?”
He shrugs. “We talked it through. We thought there wasn’t really a point in trying if it wouldn’t work out in the end. She got her person, anyway.”
“But what about what you said?” Kyle rambles, “about getting it wrong?”
“I was wrong, I guess.” Kenny rubs his arm. “Y’know, spending this time with Butters has been great. I should’ve given him a shot before, I just never thought of it. He’s way different from what I usually go for.”
“Oh, I know. It’s surprising.”
“…But maybe it’s what I need.” The blonde’s eyes turn towards the window. “And maybe I’m what he needs, too. We’re a good change for each other.”
Kyle frowns and lowers his head. “Fuck. I thought I wouldn’t be alone in this.”
“Alone in what?”
“It’s my match.” He swallows thickly. “I think it’s wrong.”
“You should give it a chance. You said it yourself. Everyone ends up happy with their soulmate. Who’d you get?”
“Some girl that doesn’t even go to our school.”
“Then get to know her. She must be nice.”
“I don’t care to know her. She’s not my soulmate.”
“Kyle—”
“I’ll figure it out myself.” Kyle waves him off and heads down the yard. “That’s not my soulmate.”
Kenny scoffs and shuts the door behind him. Kyle’s phone buzzes a few times on his walk home. He collapses in bed, back to his window, and stares at the wall. He doesn’t know what he expects to happen, but it all feels pointless now. He’s never been in a relationship before—why can’t it be with someone that’s already special to him?
He hears his window slide open. His eyes catch the shadow displayed before him, and all he can do is heave out a sigh.
“Not now.”
“But you’re feeling under the weather.” The voice makes him sick. “Had to make sure my patient is okay.”
Light footsteps grow closer before knuckles flatten against his forehead. Kyle scowls and smacks his hand away.
“Knock it off.”
“Dude, come on,” Stan drops down beside him, “when have you ever hid stuff from me?”
More than you’d think.
“I’m glad you got a sick day, though. You looked like shit, dude.”
“Thanks,” Kyle grumbles. Stan is silent for a moment.
“Was your match that bad?”
Kyle’s heart nearly plummets out of his chest. “What?”
“Kenny mentioned it. Come on, tell me, please? I’ll tell you mine.”
“It was Wendy,” Kyle says for him. The name feels like poison. “The whole school knows.”
“That’s true. Isn’t it great? I got what I’ve always wanted.” Stan turns onto his back. “It’s going to be sick, dude, come on. Your person can’t be that bad. You’ll be happy with her.”
He cringes. “Right. I don’t even know her. She’s from a private school, or something. Her brother talked weird.”
“What’s her name?”
“Rebecca.”
“Hey, that’s cute. It suits you. Kyle and Rebecca. That sounds pretty nice. It goes together.”
“Not like us.”
Stan looks down at him. “Huh?”
“We go together. We always have.”
“Oh. Well yeah. Because we grew up together and everything. Of course our names sound cool together. You’re probably, like, the only cool Kyle there is.” Stan nudges him with his elbow. The redhead rolls his eyes.
“You’re probably the only cool Stan there is.”
“I’ll take the compliment. Thank you.”
Kyle tenses as fingers find his hair. Stan’s hand brushes through his curls, handling them like they’re delicate. “I think you should give the girl a chance. You’ll like her more than you think. Girls don’t stay icky forever.”
“I’m just—” he screws his eyes shut. “Yeah. Whatever.”
“Wanna watch something? Would it make you feel better?” Stan’s free arm hooks around his waist. It sends Kyle’s heart out his chest. He leans in closer, his front pressed to Kyle’s back, Stan’s head just above the hand tangled in his hair. “I bet it would.”
The redhead does his best to get past the sear in his cheeks.
“Yeah. We can do that.”