Before his mom's outdated car was even parked Kyle had his seatbelt undone and the car door unlocked, and before the car had even come to a full stop he had his bag from the back seat, the car door open, and was hopping out of the passenger seat and practically sprinting to his home's front door. When Kyle got into the house he didn't stop for anything. Not even to take off his shoes or say hi to his little brother, Ike, who'd gotten up from the sofa, where he'd been playing video games with a friend, to see who was at the door. Kyle just went straight for the stairs, practically shoving his dad out of the way, who was coming down them, as he ascended them and went to his room, slamming the door behind him.
The first thing Kyle noticed when he entered his room was how chilly it was, and the slight breeze coming from the window he thought he'd closed before leaving to ballet practise. The second thing he noticed was his boyfriend staring at him from where he lay on his bed, with a six pack of beers sitting beside him. "Kyle! Where the fuck have you been man?" Stan asked as he sat up and moved himself to sit at the edge of the bed, his words slurring slightly. "I came over here after school, after I stopped at home to get us some drinks, but you weren't here! I was thinking we could get a little drunk and have fun egging that dick Craig's house, or something, for calling you a fag during lunch, but I only have one can left because I got bored waiting for you and just kept drinking. Here it's yours." As he spoke Stan reached back into the pack of empty beers and pulled out the only full can left. He twisted the top off a little clumsily and held it out to Kyle. It took Kyle a few seconds to process what Stan had said, he was so shocked at his presence in his room and still angry at his mother that he'd missed part of what Stan had said, and the slight slurring of words didn't help, but when Kyle did understand he merely rolled his eyes angrily, threw his bag into the corner of the room, and took the bottle from Stan. He sat beside him on the bed and took a sip of the beer.
"So you're telling me you drank five bottles of beer because you were bored and they were there?" Kyle asked in a tone that was much more cross than needed. The lecture his mom had given him in the car had put him in a much sourer mood than he'd expected it to, and had completely counter acted the little angry outburst he'd had at the ballet studio. "Why didn't you just drink all six? Why even bother leaving one for me? If you're going to exceed the limit we agreed on you might as well go through the whole fucking case instead of stopping at one left! I mean, what's one more beer going to do right?"
"Fuck you, it was just two beers over my limit! No need to yell at me!" Stan snapped back at Kyle.
"Yeah, only two extra beers now! Next week it'll be four extra, and then six! I don't want you being a fucking alcoholic again! You're going to end up killing yourself!" As Kyle spoke he got up and stood over Stan, his beer bottle clenched tightly in one hand while the other hand was clenched in a fist.
"Wow dude," Stan said calmly now, putting his hands up in a sort of surrendering way. "Calm the fuck down. You're right, I'm sorry. But all this anger can't just be because of me drinking that damn beer. What the fuck's the matter with you?" Even though Stan was a little drunk he still had the ability to reason and read Kyle's face and actions. Stan had been way more drunk than he was now many times before, so although five beers had him slurring a few words and acting differently than normal he still had a some self control and reasoning in him.
"Nothing's the matter with me, it's you that has issues," Kyle said in almost a mumble, feeling a little taken aback by Stan backing down so easily. Yelling could be heard downstairs now that the two boys were speaking in quieter voices.
"Kyle I've known you for years dude. You don't care this much about little shit like me drinking two extra beers unless there's something else bugging you too," Stan told Kyle, reaching his hands out and placing them on his arms and rubbing them up and down for some kind of comfort.
"I pissed my mom off and she's been yelling at me for the past hour, ok? It's not that big of a deal," Kyle practically snapped at him.
"You're right, that isn't that big of a deal because your mom's a bitch," Stan said, moving his hand's from Kyle's arms and placing them on his hips as he stood up. He was about an inch taller than Kyle now and looked down at him into his eyes.
"She's not a bitch. I deserved to be yelled at," Kyle responded, tearing his eyes away from Stan's to glare at the floor.
"Either way," Stan said, leaning down slightly to kiss Kyle's neck. Kyle closed his eyes. "I know how I can help make you feel better." He spoke between kisses as he moved his hands to Kyle's jean zipper.
Kyle, having been lost in the feel of Stan's kisses on his neck and sucking on his jaw line, didn't realize what Stan was doing until he felt the other boy's finger slowly pushing his jeans down off of his hips. Kyle opened his eyes instantly and put his hand, that wasn't still holding the beer, on Stan's chest, pushing him away from him as he took a step back. Stan looked at him a little confused. "Stan I told you before, I don't want this right now. I just got out of a relationship with Kenny where all he did was get me to have sex with him whenever we were alone, or whenever we were having issues," Kyle said a little crossly, doing his jeans back up.
"I don't think a month ago is considered just getting out of a relationship," Stan said with a little frown. "And besides, you can't tell me you don't want it when your jeans are forming a tent over your crotch." At Stan's words Kyle's face lit up bright red and his expression turned to one of embarrassment. But he quickly turned his expression to angry.
"Just because I can't control when I'm turned on doesn't mean I actually want-" but Kyle couldn't finish getting angry at Stan again because the yelling coming from downstairs suddenly seem to be getting closer to his room and cut him off.
"Kyle Broflovski your father and I want a word with you!" came the crossed voice of Kyle's mother from on the stairs.
"Shit," Kyle exclaimed, looking at his bedroom door quickly before looking back at Stan. "You need to get out of here, and take all the beer bottles with you."
"Why do I have to leave? It's not like I haven't been in your room alone with you before. As far as they knew we're just best friends hanging out having a little chat," Stan said, stumbling back slightly has Kyle shoved his partially drank beer at him.
"You need to leave because one, you're fucking drunk dude and my parents think you've been sober for years now. Two, there are five beer bottles sitting on my bed and one in your hand, and if they see those and you drunk they're going to assume I've been drinking too and I don't need an underage drinking and religious lecture on top of the one I'm about to get. And three, if they happen see this bulge you gave me while you're here they're going to have some fucking questions," Kyle spoke quickly as he turned Stan around and pushed towards the window, collecting the pack of empty beers on their way over. He took the opened beer from Stan and put it into the case, and then handed the case back to him.
"Dude, I'm not climbing out your fucking window drunk. I'm going to fall and break my neck or something!" Stan protested, turning around to face Kyle again.
"Fuck, fine, get in the closet than," Kyle said hurriedly, pushing Stan into his open closet and closing the door on him. "And don't make any noise until I come get you," he ordered as he made a dash for his bed, picking his laptop up off the floor as he did. He sat down with his legs cross and his laptop sitting on top of them to hide his crotch, and turned his laptop on quickly to make it look like he was busy on it.
A few seconds later Kyle's bedroom door swung open and his parents barged in, closing the door behind them so as to not bother Ike and his friend with anymore yelling that would be going on. Kyle's parent's walked over to his bed and hovered over him with stern expressions on their faces, but Kyle didn't bother to look up at them. He just continued to stare at his laptop with an angry expression, making it look like he was doing things on it. Kyle's father cleared his throat once and when Kyle still didn't look up his mother slammed the laptop screen down, forcing Kyle to pull his fingers away from the keyboard and have the screen narrowly miss crushing them. "We heard you talking in here, who were you talking to?" Kyle's father asked. His tone didn't seem too harsh. It sounded more like he was pretending to be angry so that Sheila wouldn't turn on him and start yelling at him as well for not caring enough about Kyle's bad behavior.
Kyle closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "I was talking to Bebe on the phone. She called me to yell at me for not showing up for the play rehearsal today," Kyle told his dad, thinking quickly. It was true that he was in the school play this year, and that they had a rehearsal today that he hadn't been able to attend because of ballet.
"Right, well, your mother and I have a few stern words for you about the way you've been acting lately," his father told him, and then Kyle's mother jumped into the conversation and the fireworks flew again, only this time there were twice as many and they were twice as loud.