Chapter Text
Stan lay content on Kyle’s bed, allowing his breathing to steady letting out the air from his diaphragm as he sunk into the mattress. Kyle was in the bathroom getting changed.
Stan had come over after his parents had been arguing, he took the bus from the farm into South Park and walked to the Broflovski’s door; hair drenched and red faced from the cold.
It had taken him an hour to get there.
A surprised Kyle had answered his knock and Shelia invited him in for the night.
Kyle’s room was the only piece of normality Stan had these days, they had been in here countless times for many sleepovers, playdates and made countless memories in its walls since they were kids. It was nostalgic and something that had never changed unlike everything else right now in Stan’s life.
Kyle was in the still bathroom; he had given up and had a shower and was getting ready for bed. He’d given Stan some dry clothes, although Stan still felt gross.
In comparison to Stan’s room; Kyle’s was extremely clean. His figures were set equally as apart from eachother, clean clothes sat on his desk which were scrunched up slightly as if Kyle had been mid packing them away before Stan arrived and his bed was as always, made with extreme care.
Thump
“fuck” ,
Stan heard Kyle curse from the bathroom, followed by the redhead walking into the room rubbing his forehead groaning, his hair was wet, water dripping down onto the carpet from his curls.
“I dropped my toothbrush on my foot.” He mumbled.
How do you even manage to do that?
“Dude, no way.” Stan choked out in-between laughter.
“Dude, shut up”, Kyle replied, embarrassment seeping from his face. “You should shower too, you know.” He added.
Kyle was right, Stan probably should shower. He felt gross, but he honestly couldn’t be bothered.
“I-“ Stan begun to speak, but Kyle must’ve known exactly what he was going to say. “No Stan. You’re showering, I’m not having you in my bed unless you shower.”
“Fuck you,” Stan retorted, getting up and slowly stumbling out of Kyle’s room and into the bathroom. He shut the door, pulled off his shirt and sighed. He seriously couldn’t be bothered right now, but he obliged, stripping the rest of his clothes and placing his beanie on the bathroom sink, turning the tap and the sound of rushing water poured from the showerhead. The water was steaming hot, it burnt his skin, leaving it red and inflamed, but stan had tricked himself into not caring, or maybe he did care. He just wanted to believe he didn’t.