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He takes Kyle’s silence as an admission. Yells. Shouts that he should have known better. That everyone told him he was, crazy, asking out Kyle Broflovski, who was clearly already taken, even if he didn’t know it.

(He didn’t know it. He had no idea.

Until Stan kissed him, and it felt like coming home, and now he can’t imagine how he ever missed it.)

“-he doesn’t even want you, he’s straight! He just doesn’t want anyone else to have you-“

“I know,” Kyle whispers, unable to tear his gaze from the pine needles, from the rough pattern of bark hiding behind them and the muddy dirt of the patchy forest.