A blaring horn pierced the air, Eric pounding his hand against his steering wheel obnoxiously. Rolling the window down on the passenger side of his truck, he screamed out the window. "Hurry up, douchebags!" He yelled sourly. It was already nearing 7pm by the time he arrived, the boy having lost track of time.
Kenny pressed as far back into his seat as he could, rolling his eyes at the brunette that leaned over him before shoving him back into the driver's seat. "Would you relax? I'm sure they're coming."
The front door to Stan's house swung open, Stan dragging Kyle behind him as the two boy's waved goodbye to his mother. They clambered into the back seat of the truck, not bothering with seat belts as Cartman pulled away from the curb with a screech.
"You guys ready for this?" Kenny beamed, the dirty blond twisting around in his seat to gaze at the two boys excitedly. "There's going to be everything you could possibly imagine at this party!" He grinned, cupping his mouth and leaning forward. "And I mean...everything." He purred, raising his eyebrows.
Only God knows what that could mean, Stan rumbled internally, his face breaking into a weak smile. "Do you have any idea who's coming?"
"Pft, everyone? He invited all the seniors he could...well, except for Cartman really but-" His eyes darted between the man at the wheel and Stan. "There's no way he can keep him out." He shrugged. "Jimmy's going to be there for sure... So is Craig, Tweek, Bebe..." Kenny mumbled to himself, "Oh! Wendy's going too." He smiled warmly, a look of satisfaction crossing his eyes at Stan's sudden frown. "What, did you think she wouldn't be there?" He chuckled, turning to face forward. "Too late to back out now, Stan. You can't avoid her forever."
"Fuck you, man..." The raven haired teen mumbled in response, his hands gripping at his jeans absentmindedly. He could feel his stomach twist and pinch at every bump in the road. "It doesn't matter if she's there or not." He narrowed his eyes. "I told you guys I was over it. The off and on is bullshit, even I see that now."
"Remember when you became one of those faggy goth kids?" Eric piped in, his thick face screwed up in his usual sadistic smile, eyes taunting. "All you did was bitch about pain for like a week."
Hearing Kyle snicker beside him, his face flushed red. "You guys, I was fucking nine."
"So?" The red head interjected, "it still happened." He chuckled into his hand. "What was that poem you wrote again?" He cleared his throat. "There is darkness all around me, deep piercing black." He clutched his chest, his eyes swiveling to Stan. "I can not breathe, my heart...has been raped." He breathed out the words dramatically, his voice breaking down in soft laughter. "What was that last part?"
"The pain is everlasting!" Kenny threw his arm over his eyes. "I miss you so much babe. I want to hold you again girl, I want to-"
"Dude, shut up!" Stan warned through gritted teeth, his feet slamming into the back of Kenny's seat, sending the boy jolting forward in laughter. "That was nine fucking years ago, how do you guys even remember that?" The teen boiled, his fists clenched in his lap. Revisiting the memory was humiliating. It left a sour taste in his mouth thinking about the ache he had felt in his chest over the girl all those years ago. Sure, they tried again not long after...and again...and again. Thinking back on it though, part of him wished he hadn't wasted so much of his youth chasing after just one girl. He heaved a sigh, his eyes shifting to the window, the silhouette of Token's house finally coming into view. Plenty have people had already arrived, cars parked along the curb and lining the street.
It wasn't long before the boys had pushed past the gate, the trio leaving Cartman behind to haggle his way past security. Stan couldn't help but notice a fidgetting and uncomfortable Kyle, the freckled boy standing so close to him he could feel warmth leaking off of him. He gave him a tender nudge to the kitchen, Kenny following with a skip in his step as he took in his surroundings.
"See, I would've been set for life if I got Token to be my friend." He tsked, his hand already reaching for one of the many types of beers that sat on the counter. He popped the tab open, bringing it to his lips for a long swig. "Instead I got stuck with you assholes." He joked, leaning against the counter. "Want one, Kyle?" He shook the can at his friend.
"We just got here!" The red head fumed, his arms crossed over his chest. "Don't you think you should wait a little bit or something?"
"Wait?" He cocked an eyebrow at the shorter boy before giving a snort. "Dude, don't be such a pussy." He pushed a cold can into Kyle's hands. "Think of this as your one night to have fun." And with that, he slipped out of the kitchen, leaving the two boys alone.
Kyle sighed deeply, running his thumb over the can in thought before shaking his head and holding it out to Stan. "I'm not ready for it right now. You want it?" He asked, his eyes hopeful. "I feel like I might throw up if I try to do this now." He swallowed audibly, anxious butterflies dancing around in his stomach.
"You know, the quicker you get some alcohol in you, the easier it'll be to open up." He grabbed the can of beer from his friend's waiting hands. Using one finger, he pulled the tab while his eyes skimmed over the many choices that were splayed out before them. "You want to try something sweet?" He chewed the inside of his cheek in thought, picking up a bottle of smirnoff and holding it out for the boy to see. "It has a low alcohol content, not too bitter either."
The ginger crinkled his nose at the bottle, his eyes lifting to meet Stan's. "Dude," he started. "Even I know that's a pussy drink."
With a grunt and an eyeroll, Stan reached to the counter once more, plucking a solo cup from the stack. "Then we'll do it this way." He grumbled, twisting the lid off of the bottle and pouring it out into the red cup. "This way no one knows what you're drinking and-" He tossed the glass bottle in the trash before handing the cup to his friend. "It won't be so hard to keep down." He gestured for the boy to take the cup, which he reluctantly did.
"Thank you..." He mumbled quietly, his eyes focused on the contents of the cup.
"Relax, Kyle." He squeezed his shoulder softly. "You gonna let Cartman hold it over your head later when he figures out you didn't do shit at a grad party of all things?" He smiled, the look on the red head's face enough to let him know he struck a nerve.
His face scrunched at the thought of Eric's annoying howling, his hand tightening around the cup as he gnawed his lip in thought. With a sigh, he tipped the cup to his lips, the soft burn of the orange tasting wine cooler flowing down his throat. Within minutes, he downed the cup entirely, pouring himself one more before following Stan out of the kitchen.
"Not so bad, right?" Stan leaned in to speak to Kyle over the music that suddenly picked up around them, the ginger already working his second cup down. "You might want to slow down a little."
"Why are you telling me to slow down now?" He bit out, stubbornly guzzling down the rest of his drink, his cheeks already a deep rosy red. He felt a dull ache in his shoulders, the sound of the music thumping loudly against his ear drums. "Ngh, my face is on fire." He muttered to himself, shifting uncomfortably on his feet.
"You're drinking them too fast, dumbass." Stan shook his head, taking a sip of his own beer with a raise of his eyebrows. "You...you've never drank before, have you?" He chuckled at his friend's intolerance, the boy next to him already seeming to sway. "You some sort of lightweight? I bet you couldn't outdrink a freshman." He bit his tongue. Oops, was the first thought that crossed his mind, already noticing the twinge in Kyle's eye at his statement. He knew all too well what that look meant. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as the red head's temper flared up.
"You wanna bet on that?" He clumsily jabbed a finger into Stan's chest. "I bet I could outdrink you and Kenny combined!" He stumbled, almost seeming out of breath as he leaned against the wall. He narrowed his eyes coldly, brushing his disheveled curls out of his eyes. The boy always did have a bad habit of making everything out to be a challenge.
Stan widened his eyes in shock before finding himself smiling down at the freckled teen. "Oh yeah?" He grinned, looking his friend up and down. "You wouldn't last." He taunted smugly. "You'll be out cold before you even realize it and I'm going to have to be the one to carry your drunk ass home." He emphasized the last three words with a smirk, a warm feeling rising in his gut as he watched the boy squirm in protest.
Before he knew it, the can that was once fit snuggly in his palm was now being downed by a very determined Kyle, his eyes shut tight at the bitter taste of the beer.
"Dude," Stan froze, his mouth hanging open as he watched the ginger wipe at his chin, that same look still glued on his face. "You couldn't have grabbed another one? Now I have to go in there just to catch up with you." He grumbled, looking away nervously. It was already made certain that the boy was adamant. Riling him up only made things worse. He clamped his mouth shut, meeting his friend's gaze with a matching expression. "Okay Kyle. You're on."
The both of them were neck and neck, five beers, two shots, and still counting. Kyle was resolute and unswerving even though Stan knew he had to be feeling like complete shit. He had to hand it to him though, he didn't even think he would last as long as he did. His stomach lurched in protest as he poured another shot, the mere memory of the bitter liquor staining his tastebuds. He was only feeling slightly buzzed now, his face starting to grow with the same heat that Kyle had been sporting for well over an hour.
"You ready to give in yet?" He chuckled loosely, moving the bottle over to pour Kyle another shot as well, the party around them now in full swing. The music bumped and boomed, the cacophnous sound of chattering and laughter reverberating through the walls.
"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" He sneered in response, uncoordinated hands reaching to grasp his shot glass, glazed over forest hues knitting in reluctance. Swallowing thickly, he tossed his head back, emptying the glass with a garbled mewl before slamming it back down. "Ugh..." He wheezed, his hand clutching his stomach.
It won't be long now, Stan raised his eyebrows. It was always amazing how far Kyle's temper could carry him. It was endearing to him in a way. Taking his own shot like a champ, he set it back down on the coffee table softly, leaning back into the comfortable cushion of Token's couch. He took a moment to take in his surroundings, his eyes dancing across everyone who had migrated into the living room.
Cartman, the sleezy bastard, managed to get his way in the end, the obnoxious teen tearing into every snack he got his hands on. Kenny was already latched onto someone's hip, the cheerful blond obviously laying it on his target judging by her blush and wide smile. There had to be at least thirty people bunched in this part of the house alone, and of course Stan was lucky enough to make eye contact with Wendy. He felt a sudden pang in his chest at the sight of her, his smile fading into a tight line. Great. Of course she saw their locking eyes as invitation to make a beeline for him.
"Hey, Stan!" She chirped, her voice still sweet and calm over the roar of the music. "You mind if I...?" She looked down at him, her black hair framing her face as the gestured to the couch.
It took all his effort not to just get up and leave right then and there, his body feeling like lead as he shifted closer to Kyle, making room for her on the couch. "Hey," he started, his eyes darting between the girl and his obviously wasted best friend. Ignoring the sudden weight against his shoulder, he continued. "So... what's up?" He glanced at the girl, feeling Kyle's eyes burning holes into him.
"Oh, you know..." She smiled down at the solo cup in her hands. "Same old thing, different day." She perked up, nudging him with her shoulder gently. "I didn't think you were going to come! Nobody said anything."
"I didn't know I was coming." He shrugged, trying to keep it short in hopes she would leave. It still hurt to see her so happy. He could only wonder why she wanted to talk to him after everything that happened. After their break up- after the words she said to him. Was he just supposed to forget about that? It's not like he didn't have choice words for her too but... He heaved a heavy sigh, rubbing his eyes as if the action would sober him up enough to gain control of his thoughts.
"So Stan," she reached a tentative hand to his shoulder, her eyes almost seeming to look hopeful. "I just wanted to know if maybe you wanted to-"
"Stan," he felt a hand grip his arm weakly, pulling his attention down to the boy next to him. "Dude, I think I'm gonna heave." The red head slurred, his half lidded eyes losing the fiery sheen they had moments before. "I'm gonna-" He shifted, leaning forward as he sucked in short and shaky breaths. "I'm gonna...go to the bathroom." He tried to stand, his hand resting on the side table near the couch. The lamp perched on it shook as he pushed himself to take another step, his vision swimming as the room around him seemed to bend and wave with the music. "Fuck," he groaned as he stumbled on, leaning into every wall he could for support.
A pinch of guilt in his stomach, the raven haired teen couldn't shake the fact that Kyle's current state was his fault. He shook his head as he started to stand from the couch, snapping his head back to Wendy as she latched onto his arm. He blinked at her, his thoughts clouded.
"Wait! I just wanted to ask if you-"
"Listen, can we talk later?" He slipped his arm out of her hold, inching away from her. "I need to go check on him." He turned on his heel, fighting back the urge to hear what she had to say even though he knew it would just start the same painful cycle it always did. I don't care anymore, he reminded himself. I'm not going back. I know better. He repeated it over and over again in his mind. Someday he would believe it. He was going to force himself to. The worry he felt for his friend drowned out the constant rumble of his thoughts as he slipped a hand under his arm. "Do you need some help?"
With a jerk, the ginger freed himself of Stan's hand, his face screwed up in what was either pain or irritation. "I don't need you to hold my hand the way there, Stan." He bit out, slumping against the taller despite his previous quip.
He rolled his eyes, pulling Kyle's arm around him for support. "Would you quit being so stubborn for like 10 seconds and let me help you? It's not like you're going to make it upstairs. Not like this."
It took a good amount of effort, what with pushing through the crowded stairs and chasing out a blooming bathroom escapade, but the boys made it to the nearly pristine bathroom. The porcelain throne sparkled safe for the minor spots of throw up that was left over from someone else's bad night.
Kyle dropped to his knees beside it, his hands gripping the sides of it as hot vomit ripped through his throat. He retched between every breath, beads of sweat glistening on his forehead. Oh God, he could only brace himself as his stomach tightened, another rush of bile shooting up his throat. He heard the door lock and felt a hand on his back, rubbing in slow circles. "Shit," he cursed, wiping at his mouth with his sleeve. Slipping a hand through his hair, he pulled off his hat, leaning against the toilet while he caught his breath.
"What, did that gifelte fish come back up with a vengance?" Stan chuckled softly, the music somewhat blocked by the door. He dropped down onto the bathroom tile next to the flustered Jewish boy, promptly flushing the toilet. "Looks like little Broflovski couldn't keep up with the big boys after all, huh?" He teased, relishing in the intense glare the boy gave him.
"Up yours, Marsh." The boy grumbled in response, leaning his head back and looking at the ceiling. "Why is the room still spinning?" He sighed in defeat, his head dropping to meet Stan's eyes. "Do we have to go back out there?" He groaned. "I don't think I can take anymore of this music." He brought his knees up to his chest, resting his face against his palms.
"Well, we can't stay in here." Stan stood, holding a hand out to his super best friend of nearly nine years. "Come on, I'll get a hold of someone and we can drop you off at your hou-"
"Dude, are you crazy!" The red head jumped to his feet, regret consuming him as he swayed into the wall behind him. "I-" He huffed, rubbing the back of his head, his hat still gripped firmly in his hand. "I can't go back home, I already told you! Mom's gonna kill me, man!" He whimpered, his free hand tangling into his curly hair.
"Woah woah woah," his muscles tensed at seeing how much the boy swayed and stumbled. "Would you quit moving so much? J-just hold on." He sighed, pulling the smaller framed teen against his side. "Calm down, okay? I'll...we can..." He pierced his lips tightly. "I'll call somebody and we can go to my place, okay?" He patted his hand against his shoulder, pulling the crumpled ushanka from his hand and settling it down over his twisted mess of fiery red hair.
They weren't the only two who vacated to the lawn for the night. There was a number of people congregating around the garage or passed out near the shrubs as the two settled down near the gate. The cool night are was crisp and calm, the music barely audible from their spot on the curb.
"Who did you call?" Kyle spoke softly, fighting to stay upright only to lean further into his friend. The cool air felt good on his still burning face, his aching shoulders feeling heavier than before. He stretched his legs out over the pavement, grumbling incoherently.
"I called Butters." Stan rubbed his palm up and down the red head's arm, his free hand reaching around to push bottle of water into his lap. "Drink some of this. He'll be here soon."
Kyle fumbled with the cap awkwardly, his long slender fingers nearly spilling the water as he brought it to his lips, taking a long slow drink. "You called Butters? Seriously?" He inhaled deeply, sighing through his nose.
"He was the only person that I could think of. Why? Would you rather walk to my house?" Pulling the surly ginger from the sidewalk, he steadied him as a small blue KIA pulled up beside them. The passenger side window rolled down to reveal a gently smiling blond.
"Well h-hey there fellas." He said in his same sweet inflection he had for years. "Ya guys okay?" He popped the door open as Stan slipped Kyle into the front seat. "Ya don't look very okay if you don't mind me sayin', Kyle. Y-you look like ya don't feel good at all." He gave his shoulder a soft pat as the boy slumped against the seat. "Boy, I bet it sure was fun though, right? I wish I could'a gone, b-but my parents would ground me for sure." He pulled the car into gear, steadily rolling down the road.
"Don't worry, you didn't miss much." Stan chimed in from the back seat. "It would've been nice if you came though." He chuckled, thinking a drunk Butters could either be a total nightmare or a total riot. "Kyle tried to outdrink me. You see how that worked out for him."
Kyle only groaned from the front seat, his eyes squeezed shut so he didn't have to watch the trees fly by the window. It was making his stomach pinch and churn like it never has before, and the boy could feel bile rising into his throat once again. "A-are we almost there?" He choked out. The normally five minute ride was starting to feel like an eternity to him.
"Almost, little buddy." The angel faced teen cooed, finding himself going five miles over the speed limit. "We're about to pull up right...now." He pulled into Stan's driveway, putting his car into park. "D-do ya need help gettin' him inside, Stan?" He twisted in his seat, his eyes glued on the raven haired boy. "I sure wouldn't mind helpin' ya. I wouldn't want ya to go tumblin' down the stairs because I didn't and then-"
"It's cool, I got it." He waved the boy off, slipping out of the back seat and pulling the passenger side door open. He beckoned for the red head to come to him, which the boy did hesitantly. Draping Kyle's arm over his shoulder, he held tightly to his wrist, his other hand resting on his arm to keep him from swaying. "Thanks for this, Butters. I owe you one." He gave the boy a nod and a smile, his eyes drifting to his own house.
"Anytime, fellas." his cherub face lit up with another smile. "Ya know you can call me anytime!" The blond gave the two an excited wave. "Ya'll be careful now." He wrung his fingers in his lap. "Don't go gettin' into trouble."
Stan watched as Butters pulled away, his house just two houses down from his.
With a grunt he walked Kyle to the front door, digging his hand down into the front pocket of his jeans as he fished for his keys. Sliding them into the lock, he pushed the door open gingerly, his eyes scanning the room. Nobody home.
He eased his friend into the doorway, kicking the door shut behind him before making the difficult journey up the stairs and to his bedroom.
Kyle plopped down on his best friend's bed, fighting to keep his eyes open since every time he blinked he felt like he was on another time frame. He stared hazily at Stan, the boy sitting on the edge of the bed and kicking off his shoes.
"You wanna eat something?" He asked, leaning back against the mattress, blue eyes meeting green ones.
"No way," Kyle slurred, cupping his mouth when a hiccup escaped his throat. "You know what I w- hic wanna do, Stan?" He sat up abruptly, rocking back and forth and gripping the bed. "Le's do somethin' crazy." he snickered.
Stan raised his eyebrows at the boy, sitting up next to him. "What? Dude! You were just on the edge of passing out!" He pushed the red head back down onto the bed, his hands squeezing around his wrists on either side of him. "You're going to lay here and sober up before you go anywhere." He growled, struggling to keep the drunk teen in check.
In one surprisingly swift movement, Kyle had Stan pinned under him, holding his hands down against his chest as he laughed at the boy beneath him. "Not so tough are ya?" He giggled, straddling his hips.
Stan felt his face erupt in heat, straining against the freckled boy's hands. He blamed the fluttering in his stomach on the alcohol that sloshed in his system. "Fuck you, Kyle!" He spat, kicking his legs up in an attempt to fling the boy off of him to no avail. He could only widen his eyes in shock as his friend leaned in, an ever present smile glued to his face. His cheeks were flushed with color that was so bright in contrast to his pale skin, his liquor infused breath ghosting over his ear. Stan flung him off, shooting off of the bed with a yelp. His whole body felt like it was vibrating, the boy only just now realizing how long he had been holding his breath as he panted for air.
"What the fuck dude!" He choked out, his hand clenching his chest tightly. He could only glare at the red head as he rolled around on his bed, laughing so hard his eyes were watering.
"Dude, you should see the look on your face right now!" He doubled over, wiping at his eyes, his laughter slowly dissipating into soft chuckles. He pulled his knees up to his chest, pulling his ushanka from his curled ringlets and chucking it at the boy. "You scared, Marsh?" He teased, his head lolling over to the side as he grinned.
"You're drunk." Stan sneered, his eyes skimming over his friend's bedraggled appearance. His jacket hung loosley, slipping down his shoulder and revealing his orange T-shirt stained from their short lived contest. His emerald eyes were glossed over, his freckled face still showing that same damn smirk. He narrowed his eyes. "So you wanna play it like that, huh?" He shouldered off his leather jacket, shedding the red button up after it now only adorned with his white T-shirt. He pounced on his friend, topping him once more, the noirette sitting on his knees between the boy's legs. He was met with a squeal of laughter as the boy flew onto his back, grabbling with him despite his current state. He slid up between his legs, pinning his arms above his head as they tried to catch their breath.
The only sound in the room was that of labored breath, the two locking eyes. Stan slowly felt like he was retracting from reality, his thoughts a fuzzy echo in the back of his mind. Everything around him seemed to melt away. That is, everything except for Kyle. In that moment, the boy looked like a soft flickering flame. One that illuminated a path in his life with a warm glow. One that somehow managed to brace against the cold torrent of wind that swirled around in his head.
Kyle's smile faultered, his stomach flipping with something different than before. "U-uh...Stan?" His voice was a soft whisper, the boy shifting uncomfortably under him. This is wrong, he thought as he realized just how loud his heartbeat was against his ears. He swallowed thickly, slipping his hands out from Stan's grip as he gently pushed against his chest. "C-can you let me up?" He gulped, the uncomfortable buzzing in his head making him feel vulnerable.
The other boy came up off of him in an instant, shifting to the edge of the bed with his eyes on the ground. What just happened? He swallowed hard. He jerked his head up to the ginger and gave him a weak laugh. "Uhm...got you?" He said meekly, rubbing his hand up and down his arm in discomfort.
Kyle let a low breathy laugh escape his lips, his eyes darting between his friend and the ceiling. "Er, yeah! ...T-totally." He inhaled deeply, his eyes shifting around the room. For a moment, they only sat there in silence. An uncomfortable burning and itching silence that would make anyone want to just leap out of their skin.
"Kyle?"
"Yeah Stan?"
"Why don't we just... watch a movie."