Second oneshot book

Rain~Stenny (South Park.)

I don't know why I'm in love with Stenny all of a sudden. Like... I loved STENNY BEFORE THIS BUT HOLY DAMN, and yes, I do caps when I am IN FUCKING PAIN AND I HIT MY FOOT AGAINST THE COFFEE TABLE! AND NOW THAT I'M IN SCHOOL AND CAME OUT OF THE CLOSET MY FUCKING LIFE HURTS! AAAAAAA!
Warnings: This is literally modelled after my stupidity so it's going to be depressing and fucking cursing ahead. Also, suicidal thoughts in a way I would say should be in light more. Love doesn't fix it, pretending doesn't fix it, it's dangerous for suicide people to assume love is going to help them when IT FUCKING WILL NOT! You need professional help and then you need to try to get better yourself. Getting a hunky as shit boyfriend or a beautiful girlfriend or an attractive significant other will not cure it, I'm sick of seeing that in fiction!
Ages: 16 both.
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Kenny's POV.

"Stan," I say, finding him sat on the ground.

I sit next to him, smiling.

"Why are you out here? It's raining to shit! Shouldn't you be home?" I ask.

He takes his headphones out and looks at me. Even, if it's a pretty intense staring contest, I keep looking at him.

"Stan, you're scary when you're quiet. Please, What is it?" I ask.

"Do you ever get the feeling nobody gives a shit?" Stan asks.

"Maybe. How long have you been standing in the rain for?" I ask.

He gives me his phone.

"The playlist from the beginning," he says.

I start counting.

"That's like half an hour! WHY?" I ask.

He shrugs.

"Been pretty shit for a while now. I don't know, I just stood, thinking. My legs got tired so I sat down," he says.

"No, Stan. When your legs get tired, you should go inside. Where is your jacket? Do you not wear it or something?" I ask.

He laughs though I don't think it's very funny.

"I just wanted to catch a cold, I don't know. For the suffering of it," he says.

I sigh and take him by the hands.

"What the fuck is wrong with you? Do I have to get Kyle or something?" I ask.

Stan takes his hands away.

"God, I'm such a fuck up!" He yells.

"No... you are not. Why would you be?" I ask.

"Because that's all I do. I fuck up, over and over again. Why won't I just die? GODDAMNIT! It would be so much easier for me to just die, real quick. Kyle can't help me! Nobody can! I'm too much of a fuck up to get a damn bullet through my head!" Stan says.

I grab his hands again, tighter this time.

"What the fuck are you saying?" I ask.

Stan starts crying.

"If-if Kyle and you didn't exist, I would have died already. But I don't think you really should delay the inevitable, and that's why I'm going to die," Stan says.

I shake my head.

"I've lost too many people for you to be one of them," I say.

I kiss him.

"Look, I would give up my damn life so you wouldn't give up yours," I say.

He blinks at such a rabid speed it's hilarious.

"We're getting you help, I don't care what you say," I say.

He is so obviously crying I don't know how I didn't notice how red his eyes were before.

"Hey," I say.

I hug him, keeping him in my arms as he hugs me back. There is something so damn fragile about the fact this boy is a person that pretends to be one of the strongest around yet still will cry his eyes out and feel like he's weak. I don't know, it's damn poetic.

"I love you," I say.

He rolls his eyes.

"No no, listen," I say.

He nods, looking at me.

"I know love won't fix it, it never will, never did. The thing is, I just wanted to say it so you don't feel like nobody cares, because I fucking do. I care for you more than you think," I say.

He, again, hangs onto me.

"You go home, talk about this and then someday when you're feeling better, at least a little, tell me how you feel about me. You okay with that?" I ask.

He nods.

~Obviously I didn't get any help, by the way. I was in the rain for an hour, crying. And no, I'm not okay. No, I'm not going to have your damn idea of love fixing me, EVER! Anyway! Time skippy skip, to a year later (about).~

"Hey Stan," I say.

He nods, taking a deep breath.

"Kenny, you've literally saved me from dying," Stan says.

Oh so he is ready to talk about it.

"No, I didn't particularly save you, I'm fine with the fact I didn't. If you truly are better, that's because of you, not me," I say.

"Look, I love you. You've told me, consistently, during the year that you love me and that has given me something to look forward to," Stan says.

"Yeah, be like that but I didn't save you, you, by working your ass off to get better, got better yourself. That's, what happened. I didn't delete your suicidal thoughts from your head by any means. I'm proud of you, for doing whatever you did to feel better but I didn't do it," I say.

"I just... I'm better, I'm not good but I'm better and I wanted to ask you if you would maybe-," Stan says.

I kiss him.

"Yeah, That," He says.

I laugh, taking him in for a hug.

"I love you," I say.

He nods, keeping a hold on me.

"I love you too," he says.

"I don't think you have any idea how much I actually love you," I say.

"Maybe. But alike, you have no idea how much I love you," he says.

I laugh.