This thing has a plot, I promise.

Also, this is the first fanfic I've ever dared to publish and english isn't my first language. But I love absolutely love Style and I had to write them on their original language! :3. So yeah, there's that.

Anyway, I hope you'll enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it ;).

Disclaimer: South Park and all of its characters are Trey Parker and Matt Stone property (god bless them).

- I've missed you, dude.

Kyle pinched the edge of his nose. Of course Stan just had to go and get wasted. This was just like him: to get drunk and start blabblering nonsense out of nowhere.

And he never remembered. Which only made it hurt more. Not that it was something new, the ache, Kyle was used to it, he had to be by now.

So, when Stan pulled his arm around Kyle's waist and leaned too much closer, he should have stepped back and free himself of his super best friend's grasp; it was common sense.

Instead, he leaned in too, just like every time. Because he could fool himself about the pain. He was used to it, really.

But he could never lie about the feeling of having Stan's lips on his own. He could never get tired of it, really.

His head felt heavy and the world was spinning still a little when he woke up. He sat on the bed, growling at the headache that was forming already at the light coming from the open curtains.

A red sleeping bag was on the floor, but Kyle was nowhere to be seen. He assumed that his friend had taken his drunk self home at some point, then. So he was probably on the bathroom or something. He smiled at the thought. It wasn't as if Kyle and him had had time to hang out the last month. Not really.

But now that summer had started, they could fix that.

The sudden appearance of Kyle on pajamas, all wild hair and a toast on his hand, made him want to laugh, his head aching at the attempt. Kyle looked amused at the sight.

- I take it you're hangover? - he said arching an eyebrow - Mister "I bet I can take more shots than Tucker!" - he continued mockingly.

- Ugh, piss off, Kyle. I totally won that.

- I hardly believe that Token retrieving Craig off of the competition counts as the overwhelming victory you claimed it to be.

Stan throwed a pillow at him in a pathetic effort to hit his head and winced at the sudden pain on his forehead. Kyle chuckled a bit when he saw Stan's expression.

- Oh, fuck off, Broflowsky. Anyway, how did we made it home last night?

For a brief moment, Kyle looked uncertain and then, just a little bit annoyed.

- What's the last thing you remember?

- Uh, being dragged out of Token's living room.

Of course. Fucking of course.

- Yeah, right. He did it for his parent's carpet sake. I don't blame him; you and Craig were being assholes... as usual.

There was a hint of anger on Kyle's tone that let Stan confused. After all, he could never know with Kyle and his drunk self.

- What happened? Did I throw up on you or something?

His redheaded friend sighed and now there was only sadness on it. Stan was as lost as he usually was at the next day of getting drunk.

- Nah, we walked here and you passed out as soon as you were on my bed. You almost fall twice, though.

- Ugh, dude, I'm sorry I was a burden for you last night, - he said dramatically, he knew Kyle would appreciate the effort at apologizing - if it helps, my head is killing me.

- No problem. But it doesn't help... not much. You'll have to compensate me!

Stan found Kyle's wide smile menacing.

Yeah, I know it's a short start, but I had to publish it now or I was never going to do it :P
Thanks for reading it anyway! I'll update as soon as I can, probably around the next weekend. See you soon, dudes! :)

So, yeah, like... feel free to review?