Archive of Our Own ^beta

What was Stan’s greatest fear?

When he was younger, he definitely would have said snakes. Who wouldn’t? Snakes were ugly, squirmy little freaks of creatures. Plus they practically CAMOUFLAGED into the ground. They just lay there in the middle of a path, waiting for an excuse to strike. God he was convinced that they’d be the death of him some day.
His real fear though?

Losing his fiance. His best friend. His Kyle. He feared that more than anything in this world. More than getting fired, more than being homeless, more than relapse. Kyle had been by his side every step of the way and Stan couldn’t even picture existing in a world without the redheaded smartass. But it was obvious his other half hadn’t been too hot over the past few weeks.

Kyle was a very meticulous person, always had been and probably always would be, and oh how he’d been stressing over wedding prep over the past few weeks. Stan couldn’t even blame him. Their wedding venue had called two weeks before to inform them that they’d “accidentally” double booked the venue and would have to cancel their reservation. It had thrown everything out of loop and into complete chaos. At the time they were a month and a half–which was now closer to a month–out from the ceremony.

All throughout his life Kyle never functioned well under situations out of control. The more important the situation was to him, the quicker he was to panic and spiral. The only thing that remotely stopped him from completely self destructing was to regain control over something. And unfortunately, the unwilling victim of the situation would be his eating habits. Kyle’s eating disorder wasn’t something he’d ever fully recovered from, which was totally normal but still terrifying to Stan.

Every couple of years Kyle would relapse and Stan could never tell how bad it’d end up being. He never wanted to risk what had happened their freshman year of college again. He wouldn’t be able to handle having to see Kyle in a coma because he’d skipped and restricted meals so often that he’d almost died of severe hypoglycemia. It had made Stan hate hospitals even more, seeing the love of his life unconscious and hooked up to all those wires and tubes.

He didn’t want Kyle to be miserable nor did he want to see his boy with a feeding tube again. They were getting married in a few weeks, this was supposed to be exciting not stress inducing! But every day that went by, Stan noticed more and more of those signs: skipping meals, wearing baggier clothes, neglecting his sugars. He knew Kyle was upset and struggling and it worried him greatly.

The ravenette sighed softly as he gave his last patient of the day a praising scritch under her chin before locking the kennel. He couldn’t be more glad that he was only working half a day, it wasn't like he’d been able to focus much anyways. He would miss all of the fluffy friends at the clinic but right now all he wanted to do was go home and hug his fiance. Kenny was right, he was absolutely whipped.

Speaking of Kenny, as Stan walked out of the back he almost ran straight into the blonde's girlfriend. Marjorine smiled down at him as she brushed off her shirt. “Heya Stan!” She cheerfully greeted. “Leaving early?” Stan smiled back at her and nodded. “Mhm. Figured I’d surprise Ky. He’s been on his own pretty much all day since the school year ended.” Marji chuckled and lightly punched the shorter man's shoulder. “Aww, that’s real sweet Stan. You two have fun, I’ll see ya later!”

Stan hummed and waved as he hurriedly walked out to the parking lot. He was excited, and nervous at the same time. On one hand: yay quality time with Kyle! On the other hand: Kyle hadn’t responded to him all day and he was worried for him. Honestly at this point he was just hoping that Kyle was still sleeping. It was only twelve thirty after all. Oh who was he kidding? Sleeping late wasn’t like his fiance at all, that would just worry him more.

Traffic wasn’t bad that day, thank god, and Stan managed to make it back to his and Kyle’s place within fifteen minutes. He scrambled out of the car trying to casually enter despite his very uncasual demeanor. “Ky? I took off early, baby. Figured we could spend some time together.” Stan set his bag down with a light thud. “Baby?” He called out, worriedness continuing to creep into his voice. A sharp slam echoed from the dining alcove, causing Stan to tense and rush in.

There he found Kyle glaring at his phone, laptop open. “Ky?” Stan softly tried again. “You okay baby?” Kyle looked up, scrubbing at his eyes. “No! ’ve called six different venues…” The pale boy slurred out. “Not a SINGLE opening!” The redhead frustratedly exclaimed. “...’Ts all booked!”

“Oh baby, no-” The ravenette could feel his heart shatter at his fiance's dejected expression. “We’ll figure something out. I promise I’m gonna marry you.” The room fell silent for a moment as Stan waited for Kyle to say something but after a few moments it was clear the redhead either wouldn’t or couldn’t. “Baby, come here. It’s gonna be alright.” He said softly, inviting the redhead to come get a hug and take a breath. Kyle stood quickly but barely made it ten steps before stumbling and sliding down to the floor.

SHIT-

“KY!” Stan yelped, rushing over to kneel beside his love. “Baby what happened? Are you dizzy? When was the last time you checked your sugar?” Kyle sighed and looked down. Stan gently tilted the other man’s head to look back towards him. “Did you eat today?” Kyle was quiet for a few long moments before mumbling a soft, “No.” Which made Stan’s chest squeeze. He didn’t want to scold him, the last thing he needed was for his boy to feel guiltier than he probably did.

“Can I check your sugar baby?”

“...Yes.”

Stan pressed a quick kiss to Kyle’s forehead. “Be right back love.”

He quickly went off to grab Kyle’s kit from their bedroom. He was ever so gentle as he sanitized the area and handled the lancet. Now that they were practically in their mid twenties, they’d done this song and dance many times before. Today wasn’t the first and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. “Twenty nine, Ky. You’re low.” He said gently. “I’m gonna go grab you some orange juice. Is that okay?” Kyle hummed in embarrassment and nodded briefly.

Fuck the snakes, at this point Kyle’s health scares were going to be the thing that takes him out. He knelt back beside his fiance, carefully wrapping the others shaking hands around the cup. “There you go baby. You’re gonna be okay.” At this point Stan wasn’t sure if he was trying to reassure Kyle or himself more. Either way he remained next to Kyle, running a gentle hand through those wild curls he adored. The more minutes that passed by, the better Kyle began to look. His color began to return–though he still looked paler than usual–and his hands slowly stopped trembling.

“Do you want to talk about it now or later?”

Kyle let out a long sigh, “Can never be an option?”

“Kyle.”

“Fine, fine. Let’s just get it over with.”

Stan could feel his body relax at the words. “Alright…when was the last time you ate?” Kyle glared at him with those familiar emerald eyes. After a minute he finally huffed out, “Early afternoon. Yesterday.” And now Stan was tense again. “Oh baby-” “Don’t “baby” me, I’m fine Stan!” The redhead snapped. “But you aren’t Ky. You’re stressed, you almost passed out, you look miserable. I know you’re hurting and it hurts me to see you this way.” He carefully took Kyle’s slender hand in his. “I don’t want to see you in the hospital again.” That had his fiery fiance’s gaze softening.

“It’s hard.”

“I know Ky. I need you to tell me how I can help.”

“I don’t know.”

Stan’s heart shattered at the pure dejectedness of his lover's tone. It was so unlike Kyle to be this down, normally that was more of a him thing. He never wanted to see his best friend so pitiful looking. Stan sighed softly as he brushed a thumb over Kyle’s fair skin before he stood, picking the redhead up with him. Kyle yelped as he was caught off guard, his nails digging into Stan’s back. “Dude!” He exclaimed loudly, “What the fuck!-” Stan simply smirked at the taller one as he continued to carry him out to the garden.

“You and I are gonna bake!”

Kyle glared at him unamusedly. “I can barely make toast without burning it.” He huffed. “Well then I’ll teach you dumbass” The ravenette chuckled as they stopped at the apple trees that lined their back fence. Stan carefully adjusted his hold on the redhead, moving him from the princess' carry to atop his shoulders in spite of the redhead squawking in protest. “Grab some good ones Ky!” He called out to his fiance. “It’s the end of August! Are there such things as good apples this early?” Kyle bit back, although he still obeyed what was asked of him.

“Jesus dude I’m gonna have to start sitting you down for garden lessons.” Stan chuckled, giving Kyle’s thigh an affectionate squeeze. “You are not making me into your garden nymph.” The displeased redhead huffed. “Aww why not?” He cooed. “I think you’d make a cute little nymph.” Kyle swatted the back of his fianceś head. “Little? Dude, I’m like four inches taller than you.” He laughed.

There it was.

Stan had been waiting weeks to see his fiance actually happy again. He carefully lowered Kyle to the ground–taking care to be mindful of his bad knee and the apples he was holding–and pecked him on the cheek. “What was that for?” The redhead chuckled. “I just love you…like a lot.” Stan said sweetly as he nuzzled his partner's neck. “I love you too dude. You’re my super best boyfriend.” Kyle responded softly. “And you know I love hugging you but can we please do it inside so I can put these down and actually reciprocate it.”

Stan grinned and placed a hand around Kyle’s waist, guiding his love back inside the house. He helped the redhead set the apples on the counter, ignoring the protests that he could do it himself, and wrapped his boy back in an embrace. This time, Kyle firmly hugged him back. “I’m sorry.” The taller murmured under his breath. Stan rubbed his back and let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “Don’t apologize.” He hushed. “You know I’m just a worrier. Everything’s gonna work itself back out again.”

The two remained wrapped up together for an obnoxious amount of time that night. Gentle whispers of reassurance filling the otherwise silent room. Later that night, the faint scent of apple pie could be smelled coming from the open kitchen window, accompanied by soft old romance songs. Everything would be just fine.