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The clock on Kyle's nightstand read ‘12:00 AM' as he heard his phone ping. He groaned in annoyance as he reached for it. It was the weekend, and Stan told him he was planning to spend it with Wendy. Of course, he didn’t mind his friend hanging out with his girlfriend. Kyle personally thought that their relationship wasn’t always the best, but if Stan was fine, that’s all that mattered. Sure, it annoyed him and everyone else after one too many break-ups. Who was Kyle to say anything? He was single for the majority of his life. The closest things he’s had were his and Stans' spontaneous hook-ups. He knew they didn’t mean anything, but god did he wish.
Kyle knew he was in love with the other. He always felt like some cheap rebound when they’d meet up, sharing intimate whispers under the sheets. It was nights like those that Kyle wished he could call Stan his own, but he can’t. So here he was, alone in his bed.
Kyle’s phone screen lit up his face as he squinted to read the text that filled his screen.
Stanley Marsh.
‘SBF has sent you a message.’ was in dark letters across the top of his screen. Kyle’s eyes widened as they skimmed across the paragraph he saw. “What the hell?” He whispered as he sat up.
The text read:
‘Dufe she fuckking dumped me again. I knw i shouldn’t keep going back but i can’t help it. Idk what it is. I keep going back to her. maybe i need to stop it.maybe WE can make things serious? And actually start dating bc i think you’re kinda hott. Let me come over??’
Kyle pulled his eyes away from the screen. He didn’t know how to feel. This has happened to him before. Stan, coming to him drunk and alone, having sex with him, and then leaving, purposefully forgetting it even happened. Kyle bit his lip as he pondered his response. Kyle was aware that Stan would forget the whole ordeal by sunrise, but what if he didn’t? The redhead knew he’d have to stop letting Stan do this to him, so he typed his response.
‘I can’t keep doing this dude. You know you’re just gonna act like this never happened in the morning. You always talk about dating, but run back to wendy. If you can’t hold to it, its not fucking happening. This has happened so many times Stan. This is the last chance you’re getting. The paragraphs you send to me mean shit. So if you can’t follow through and put your actions where your mouth is, THIS is over.’
He hit send, turned his phone off, and set it on his bed. Kyle threw his legs over the bed, gripping the edge of it in annoyance. There was an aching pain in his chest, and he felt warm. He got up to grab some water to cool down. Maybe he’d have a response when he got back, or maybe Stan passed out somewhere. As he walked down the halls of his house, he began to think. If Stan were serious and would remember this, what would happen? What would their relationship be like? Questions ran through his mind as he felt the cool air from his fridge hit his chest.
Klye twisted the cap off the cold water bottle and chugged half of it, quietly setting it on his counter. The combination of cool air and water brought Kyle down from his burning state. As he started on his water again, he felt as if he was being watched. Squeezing his water, he slowly turned his head toward the window in his living room. He was met with brown eyes and overgrown bleached-blonde hair. The ginger felt his glasses slip down his nose. “Oh, you’ve gotta be shitting me right now.” He cursed to himself as he reluctantly got up to let his ‘Super Best Friend’ inside.
The boy braced himself for the cold air as he slowly opened the front door. The frigid air hit him like a truck. He adjusted himself as he greeted the drunken teen in his yard. “Stan, get your ass inside before you freeze to death,” Kyle said as he peeked his head around the door.
“Kyle!” Stan slurred as he dragged himself to the door. Kyle quickly let him in and shut the door. He hoped Stan would have sobered up a bit, but he was very wrong. “Quiet. People are sleeping.” He whispered harshly. “Come on, we’ll go to my room.”
The two were now sitting on Kyle’s queen-sized bed; Stan sat near the edge while Kyle was wrapped in his blanket. The air around them was thick. Stan swallowed the rest of the water that Kyle had let him have. “I read your text.”
“Yeah?” Kyle scoffed, “Didn’t think you’d be sober enough to.” Stan sighed at his friend.
“Look, I’m sorry—” Stan began, but was abruptly interrupted.
“No, Stanley.” Kyle spoke sternly, “Sorry.” He lifted his hands to create air quotations. “Won’t fucking cut it this time.” He sniffed. Kyle was tired of it; he couldn’t keep being a temporary rebound. His eyes began to fill with tears as he watched Stan’s eyes widen. “I can’t keep doing this shit, Stan.” He sounded defeated.
“Do what?” Stan asked, his face contorting into a look of confusion.
“This!” Kyle’s hands frantically gestured to the two of them. “Whatever we do.” He crossed his arms as he looked away from the boy in front of him. “I’m sick of being a one-night stand, or some fuck buddy you can run to when Wendy doesn’t want you.” Kyle sobbed. He felt pathetic.
“Kyle…” Stan inched closer to the other. He was stopped by a hand.
“Don’t make this any harder than it should be, Stanley.” He pleaded. Kyle watched as Stan’s eyes darted around his room—looking everywhere but the other's face. “If you truly want me, show me that you mean it.” Kyle choked out, bringing a hand to wipe at his eyes; his face was now hidden in his hands. He knew he’d regret it, knowing his glasses would get tangled in his hair. Stan opened his mouth to speak, but couldn’t find the words. All he could do was watch his best friend sob.
Stan took a deep breath, attempting to calm his nerves and hopefully sober himself up. “Kyle, please look at me,” Stan whispered as he moved closer to the redhead. He reached to pull his hands away from his face. Stan’s brown eyes met Kyle’s emerald ones. Stan slid the glasses off his face and set them on the nightstand. Slowly, he reached for Kyle’s hands and intertwined their fingers. “I’ll do anything, anything to prove I’m serious this time.” Stan cried as he tightened his grip on Kyle’s hands. “I know I’m not fully sober right now, but please believe me.” He pleaded.
Kyle couldn’t meet Stan’s eyes. He wanted to believe him. Kyle let out a shaky breath. “Stan, I want to believe you. I just can’t right now, you’re drunk.”
“I know, but Kyle, I swear—” Stan began to plead again.
“Stanley…” Kyle whispered, “If you’re serious about this, you won’t leave in the morning, then we’ll talk.” Stan nodded. “Go clean up, I’ll bring you some painkillers and water.” Kyle gave him a small smile before shooing him away. He watched Stan carefully leave his place on the bed and enter his bathroom. Once he was out of sight, Kyle leaned his head against the bed frame and sighed. This has been a long night…
Kyle had grabbed another water and painkillers while Stan took a shower; he was now back on his bed waiting for him to finish. Luckily, it didn’t take Stan very long. “Clothes are where they usually are, right?” Stan asked, already walking to Kyle’s dresser. He got a nod in response. Stan haphazardly threw on a random band shirt and shorts he found in the drawer.
Kyle adjusted himself in his bed as he felt Stan slide in next to him. He turned to face Stan. “If you wake up and don’t remember anything, just know this is your seventh last chance, Stanley,” Kyle whispered firmly.
“I promise I won’t. I won’t ditch you either.” Stan spoke softly, twirling a strand of Kyle’s hair around his finger. He continued to play with the other's hair until they both drifted off to sleep.
Kyle was awoken by the sound of his little brother slamming his door shut, and him uttering the words ‘Gayass.’ He felt something warm against his back. Last night hit him all over again. Stan was hugging him from behind; his arms were wrapped around the other's waist. He was sound asleep. Kyle wondered if Stan actually would remember. He was back to hoping.
Before he could think about it even more, he felt Stan stir behind him. The other pulled him closer. It felt nice, he thought to himself. “Morning…” Stan let out a yawn.
“Good morning, Stan.” Kyle turned to face Stan. His hands reached to ruffle bleach-damaged locks.
“Thanks for, uh, letting me stay the night.” He said while gently grabbing Kyle’s wrists.
“No problem, dude.” Kyle smiled. He began to lift himself from the bed, but Stan stopped him.
“We need to talk.” Stan pulled him back down. Kyle’s eyes widened. “I told you I’d remember. Now, talk to me.” Stan watched as Kyle swallowed nervously. He didn’t think Stan would actually remember, so he hadn’t thought of anything to say. The redhead felt his face heat up,
“I mean everything I sent in that text.” Kyle started, “I won’t be a standby option for when you and Wendy break shit off.” He sighed. Stan nodded, signaling him to continue. “So if you do want me, Stan… Please stop throwing me to the side like this.”
“God, Kyle, I want you. I want you so much.” Stan confessed. “I don’t want to make you feel like that again, dude.” Those words were all Kyle needed to pull Stan into a gentle kiss.
“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear that,” Kyle said, their faces just inches apart. Stan smiled before pulling him into another kiss. The two smiled into this one. Kyle’s hands made their way into Stan’s hair once again, while Stan’s reached for Kyle’s waist; he pulled them impossibly closer. The raven-haired boy broke the kiss, looking into Kyle’s half-lidded eyes. Stan’s lips found themselves on a place he was all too familiar with: Kyle’s neck. “Stan, don’t, my family is just down the hall.” Kyle tugged at his hair, causing him to groan.
“Seriously, dude? I’ve been waiting since last night!” Stan exclaimed. Kyle chuckled.
“You can wait.” Stan groaned again as he hid his face in Kyle’s neck. “Pretty sure they’re leaving in the afternoon to run some errands…” Stan could hear the smile in his voice. He grinned against his neck.
Kyle’s door swung open. The two jumped from their places on the bed. “Mom said to get up.”
“Ike, what the hell!” Kyle yelled.
“Chop chop.” Ike rolled his eyes and walked away from the door. Kyle groaned loudly.
The two reluctantly got up from the bed and walked into the living room. They’d finish their business later.