I have two things... number one: The option to take the good side of the T-series vs Pewdiepie is still open, Scandinavia brother till the end.
Then just.... Stan's a beautiful thing, ain't nothing else to that.
Warnings: Cursing and sort of made this as a huge joke y'all probably won't understand. If you do, Emma, I have a few things to talk to you about. ((I'll explain this, I had a while where I tried not to curse. Went well... for like 4 hours and then my nerves wouldn't take it.))
Ages: 15.
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Kyle's POV.

I sit at the table, hitting my leg while doing so.

"Sh—Ow."

"What the fuck happened this time?" Stan asks.

"Nothing, just hit my leg."

He nods, putting down his books to read a little.

"I can't even understand anything and you're going to do that s—kind of thing on me?"

"Kyle.... fucking hell, you know you don't have to censor anything."

"I—."

"Why the fuck would you?"

I roll my eyes.

"Mom would get off thinking I'm too much of a gamer."

"How the hell can you be too much of a gamer? Better yet.... Why does cursing link to that?"

"Voice chat wasn't a good idea, not when mom was home."

He bursts out laughing.

"What did you say? Bitch?"

"No."

"I can't figure out what else she would get annoyed for."

I laugh.

"Can't say it, mom doesn't allow cursing."

"I've jumped to call someone a faggot when they COULD NOT FUCKING AIM!"

"Mom didn't appreciate it that much."

"I've said a lot worse."

"N-word?"

"Who hasn't? C'mon. I grew up with games. Every-single-person That has been eleven has SCREAMED at the people in their team or the other team."

"Don't know.... I didn't mean to say it at all, normally I just destroy my own goddamn knee and move on."

"Man, you fucking have to yell sometimes."

"Yeah. But the idiot! I cannot under the ba—guys rank. Like. I would call hacks with how sh—bad he was."

"What did he do?"

"First of all, spoke constantly in a language I can't understand. Second of all, jumped, now this is going to sound like such a ret—idiot can't exist, off the highest building of the map and I just got so annoyed."

"You normally don't?"

"It was a very interesting night, okay. Yeah, let's not discuss what I took."

"Wait you use something?"

"Tried, I will correct you on that, with my dad's consent."

"YOUR DAD LET YOU FUCKING TRY—."

"Yeah and both of us regret it."

"WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOUR DAD?"

"Less than yours."

"Oh wow, thank you. I totally needed my fucking father pulled into this."

"But yeah, I can't curse."

"Why not just fucking curse when she's not in sight?"

"I'm a good enough kid not to."

"What'd you take?"

"Not telling, legal sh—things, I'll tell you that much."

He nods and mutters something along the lines of 'I don't think anything is legal, you're fifteen.'

"So yeah, it's fun I guess," I say.

"Does your mom not know you're gay?"

"She does."

"Then why the fuck does she think you would regularly use Faggot as an insult? YOU ARE ONE FOR FUCKS SAKE!"

"And that, dear Stan, is what we call a helicopter parent."

"'Dear'...... bitch, I ain't dear to you."

"You are, in your own way."

"Oh wow, thanks."

"My pleasure."

~Time skip.~

When we finally step out of the school for the day, I can't help my loud groan.

"Could it have been worse?" I ask.

"In many ways, yes," Stan says.

"I just............ FUCK!"

He practically jumps at the word.

"Oh shit, didn't mean to!" I say.

SHUT YOUR FUCKING MOUTH—OH MY GOD.

"Glad to see you cursing."

"Goddamnit, mom isn't gonna be happy."

"You're not exactly telling her either."

"You're not my dad."

"I clearly would be a better one."

"You would probably be a—no that joke is not one you should hear.... if Kenny was here, I could."

"Is there something going on between you two?"

"Is your first fucking thought that the two kids that like guys would get together?"

"No, you just talk about him a lot."

"Of course I do. He's my best friend."

"Oh I'm just irrelevant now?"

I roll my eyes.

"No. I think of you as something beyond a best friend."

"Oh am I your dad, son?"

"Don't call me son."

"Why not, son?"

"CALL ME SON ONE MORE TIME!"

"Calm down, I'm kidding with ya."

"I just... that would be so awkward."

"How come?"

"You're not a father figure in my life, oh no no no. You're younger than me, I don't think you could ever be that kind of a person to me."

"What am I exactly?"

I shrug.

"If I had any fucking idea, I would be telling you."

"I just—I really wanna know what you think of me as if you don't think I'm your best friend."

I close my eyes for a moment, head up.

"I... fuck."

"Articulate please."

"I think of you as... I don't think there is a way to say it without it sounding incredibly blunt."

"Don't worry about it."

"I think of you as someone who I absolute would adore to spend my life with."

"O-Oh."

I nod.

"Oh how much of a stereotype am I... falling for my straight best friend?"

"If I'm fucking straight, you're a bad student. I'm probably the furthest from that I could be."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Don't know."

I sigh.

"Sorry, wrong of me to jump at that. I'm probably not someone you would—."

"Shut the fuck up."

I look down at him in surprise.

"No, seriously, this self deprecating shit has got to stop! Of fucking course I like you!" He says.

I smile and kiss him, he sort of has to stand on his toes (which in it's own way, is adorable) and even then I'm slightly leaned down. Goddamnit, this boy needs to grow faster.