We Should Get Drunk More Often

Chapter 1: The Hangover

Stan really should stop getting drunk with Kyle.

When they were at Clyde Donovan's party when they were thirteen (how he managed to get alcohol there was beyond them), they kissed. Like, tonsil hockey kissing.

When they were at Bebe Stevens' party when they were fifteen, they lost their virginities to each other (Bebe had been pissed off that they had user her bedroom and locked her out). They carried on afterwards like they always had, despite some mud-slinging at them. Their comeback had been that best friends make the best lovers.

They had other rendezvous at other parties whilst drunk, Kyle once asked why he was always the one who woke up with a sore and sticky backside, Stan's reply was that since he was the star quarterback, he couldn't realistically be on bottom so Kyle was doing him a favour before adding 'your shits are easier so quit complaining'.

Stan rubbed his head, aged nineteen (eighteen in Kyle and Kenny's case), being in Las Vegas with fake IDs and your best friends at Christmas and quite a bit of money from jobs they worked in high school and that parents gave them as a graduation present didn't mesh well.

He'd fucked Kyle again, he probably should've expected that.

He got up with a lot of difficulty and walked over to his jeans, a piece of paper slipped out when he picked them up. He picked up the paper and read through it, it was a marriage license with his and Kyle's names on. He laughed loudly and stumbled back over to the best to shake his Super Best Friend.

"Don't talk to me," Kyle groaned, "I'm dead."

"We got one of those fake marriages," Stan chuckled, "We must have consummated it last night."

Kyle snickered, rolling over to face him, "How drunk were we?"

"Drunk enough to persuade Kenny and Cartman to be our witnesses."

Kyle laughed, "Now that we're married you had better get fucked more often."

"Sorry dude," Stan smirked, "Dat ass is too good to not get fucked."

"Let's get something to eat then," Kyle sat up, "I'm fucking starving."

Cartman and Kenny were already at a table in the hotel restaurant.

"You won't believe what happened last night," Stan said as he took a seat.

"What?" Kenny asked as he took a swig of his coffee.

"Stan and I got one of those fake marriage things," Kyle explained, "You two were witnesses apparently."

"Of course you two fags would get married!" Cartman laughed hysterically, "This is the best day of my life!"

"I'm getting food," Stan announced, he turned to Kyle, "You coming with?"

Kyle nodded and stood up to get to the buffet.

Kenny nudged Cartman, "Maybe we should leave the happy couple to their romantic breakfast."

Cartman laughed again, his eyes were beginning to tear up.

Stan and Kyle both returned with pancakes.

"These are really good," Stan said.

"We know," Kenny said, "Cartman ate half of the ones that were out after they had just been put out."

"Fatass," Kyle shook his head.

"Faggy Jew," Cartman retorted.

They didn't do much for that day until they were going home the day after.

"Hello boys!" Sheila smiled as Stan and Kyle took Kyle's suitcase into his house, the Marshes were over for coffee, "How was your trip?"

"It was great," Kyle said.

"I'm guessing you got drunk a few times," Randy laughed.

"What do you think?" Stan shrugged, Sheila glared but it wasn't the worst thing they'd done, "We ended up getting one of those fake marriages because of it."

"What, what, WHAT!"

"Yeah," Stan retrieved the license from his bag, "See?"

"Boys," Gerald frowned, "This marriage is completely legal, you are legally married."