Love and Empty Bottles

by deathisfun

Summary:

Stan Marsh is an alcoholic sophomore who is hopelessly in love with his best friend Kyle.

Notes:

Hello I’m alive.

Stan’s love for Kyle is not actually unrequited I just want to clarify that. They are also in their sophmore year of highschool. (Year 11 if you’re english)

There is a ton of alcoholism/alcohol abuse present in this. I have not struggled with alcohol dependence myself, though I have struggled with drug abuse, so if there are any inaccuracies with my portrayal of that please let me know.

They also may be slightly out of character as this fic isn’t going to be nearly as out of pocket as South Park is.

I’m not sure about the chapter upload schedule as this is going to be a longer fic, (I’m expecting around 30k) but expect around 1-2 new chapters every week.

Chapter 1: Chapter One

Stan had been drinking since he was ten. It didn’t really become a severe problem until he was thirteen. That was after Wendy broke up with him and Kyle got his first girlfriend the same week. His parents divorce shortly after that didn’t help either. Him and Wendy weren’t going to last anyway, childhood relationships never did. He loved her, and a part of his heart would always be with her, but he always kind of had a crush on Kyle. He still did. That was what really started it.

He didn’t get “sober” until he was fifteen. But even then he wasn’t fully sober, he still drank whenever his depression came back, which was a lot. But it was less than before, so that was something. He was sixteen now and his life was still shit. His parents divorced for good when he was thirteen and he spent most of his time with his dad. His mom had Shelly, she lived with her full time. He guessed he reminded her too much of Randy and that’s why he didn’t stay with them. He couldn’t really blame his mom though, he was slowly turning into him no matter how much he hated it.

Randy never cared when he got drunk, he was usually either too stoned or too drunk himself to even notice. Kyle didn’t notice he wasn’t fully sober either though and that was good. He didn’t want to have that conversation with him. He didn’t want Kyle to know that he failed.

Kyle was really his only friend now, he never considered Cartman a friend and Kenny was just kind of around. He was still friends with Kyle though. Stan’s alcoholism was probably what caused the rest of his friends to grow apart from him.

He loved Kyle with all his being, more than that he was in love with him. Kyle was the only reason he didn’t drink everyday or kill himself. Stan knew it was bad that Kyle was the only thing stopping him, and that if he knew he’d be horrified, but he couldn’t help feeling like that.

He also knew that Kyle would leave him if he realized all his shit. If he knew that he still drank, if he knew he hated life and everything about it, if he knew that Stan was in love with him. Especially that one. There wasn’t much he could do though, he tried so hard to stop loving him and it never worked.

So whenever they hung out he just tried his best to bury his feelings and not chug down a bottle.

-

“Alright, top three stupidest things Cartman has ever done, go.”

“Stupid stupid or criminally insane stupid?”

Kyle thought for a moment before replying, “Stupid stupid, but criminally insane stupid is another good category.”

“Okay, that time when Kenny told him drinking bong water was how you get high and he actually did it, when he started a fight with a street cat over two fucking dollars, and that time in fourth grade when he gave you aids.”

“One, fuck you. Two, I’d argue the last one would fall under criminally insane stupid.”

Stan chuckled, “Yeah you’re probably right.”

He shifted himself on Kyle’s bed, lying down on his stomach instead of his back.

“So what are your top three?” He looked over at Kyle.

“Same category?”

“Yeah.”

“Well when he shit on Garrison’s desk to get out of fighting Wendy is definitely one, that whole situation actually was stupid on his part. And then when he started a fight with her again a couple months ago over..”

Stan could hear him talking but he didn’t really make out the words. He was caught up in admiring at Kyle as he talked. Looking the way his head was laying in his arms as he looked at the ceiling, the way his curls spread out on the bed with a few of them falling on his face. He was beautiful. He’d grown into his features so well since they were kids.

“-And then got caught!” His laugh floated through the air as he spoke, snapping Stan out of his thoughts. Kyle’s laugh was probably one of the best thing Stan ever heard. Whenever he really laughed, like really laughed, he did it with his whole stomach. In a way that was gorgeous and just so inexplicably Kyle.

“Carman’s a fucking dumbass.” He chuckled after Kyle had stopped laughing.

Kyle sat up and stretched his arms out over his head, Stan got up to sit next to him. His legs brushed against Kyle’s as he did so. He looked down at the blanket, it took all his willpower to not focus on the touch.

“God I can’t wait to turn sixteen,” Kyle said as he finished stretching.

Stan looked up at him, “It’s not much better than being fifteen.”

“Yeah but then I can get my license and drive us around, we’ll finally stop having to get rides from Cartman or my mom.” Kyle paused, looking down for a minute before turning his attention back to Stan. “We should go to Denver together.”

He cocked his eyebrow at Kyle, “I can just drive us to Denver right now.”

“Yeah, illegally.”

When did Kyle start caring about the law? He’d driven them around illegally before, albeit not very far.

“When the fuck did you start caring about the law?”

“I don’t, but it’d be better if we got pulled over and the cops didn’t have to call my mom because you don’t have your license yet.”

“Fair, what do you what to do in Denver?”

“Get the fuck out of South Park. There’s nothing to do here, and all the adults are insane.”

“So when you get your license we’ll have a road trip date?”

“You should be so lucky,” Kyle laughed, “but yeah we will.”

Kyle’s phone buzzed, he picked it up to respond to whoever texted him.

A date with Kyle. He was right, Stan should be so lucky, but he knew he wouldn’t be.

Chapter 2: Chapter Two

“Stan,” Randy slurred from the couch as soon as Stan walked in the door, “go get me another beer.”

He sighed as he walked into the kitchen, he wanted to ask Randy why the fuck he couldn’t go get one himself but it would be pointless. It’d just turn into an argument or Randy going on about how he “was such a bad father” and blah blah blah. He grabbed a beer for his dad and a case for himself.

“Here.” He put the bottle in front of Randy and made his way towards his room.

“If you’re gonna finish the rest of my beer you’re paying me back for it,” Randy yelled as he closed his bedroom door.

Yeah yeah, whatever.

Stan popped open a bottle and chugged it down. It’d been just over one week since he last had a drink so it wasn’t even fully a relapse. If he started drinking every day again that’d be a relapse, he wasn’t dependent on it anymore. At least that’s what he’d tell himself.

He hated his life. He hated his dad, he hated this fucking farm, he hated how the whole house always smelled like weed. The only thing he didn’t hate was Kyle.

He usually didn’t drink after hanging out with Kyle, but he just felt so fucking dirty. All they did was homework and talk, but he couldn’t stop thinking about him the entire time he was there. He couldn’t stop thinking about his hair, his laugh, and his body. Kyle would think he was gross and never hang out with him again if he knew.

He opened another bottle and reflected on everything that happened as he drank.

A road trip date.

If only. He couldn’t stop himself from fantasizing about actually going on a date with Kyle.

Kyle would get his license and he’d show up at the farm. Stan would get in the passenger seat and they’d make their way to Denver. They’d play music and talk about stupid bullshit the whole way there. Kyle would make a stop on the side of the road halfway through, then he would lean over to Stan, cup his face with his hand, then kiss him. It would start out as a light kiss, then slowly get more heated. Stan would open his mouth slightly and then Kyle would-

Fuck.

Stan put the empty bottle down and ran his hands through his hair. He shouldn’t be thinking about this. He shouldn’t be fantasizing about Kyle kissing him. That was his best friend, he’s known him since the 3rd grade, it was just wrong. Stan was wrong. He was wrong to want him.

Screw the beer, he was getting something stronger.

-

“Dude, you look like hell.” Kyle slammed his locker shut.

He probably had just shut it like normal but it sounded like a slam to Stan. Everything was so fucking loud.

“I didn’t sleep,” he said rubbing his eyes.

“Randy?” Kyle asked while he put his textbooks in his bag.

“Yeah,” Stan lied.

Randy wasn’t much trouble last night. He was passed out by the time Stan went to go steal a bottle of his whiskey, but it was the easiest and most believable excuse Stan had.

“You know you can stay at my house whenever, my mom and Ike fucking love you.”

“I know, I just don’t want to crash there too often.”

“You haven’t slept at my house in weeks.”

“You know what I mean.”

The real reason Stan didn’t want to stay at Kyles house was because of his feelings. Whenever he slept over it felt like his love for Kyle just grew even more and became more of a pain in the ass to deal with. He was afraid one of these days Kyle was going to catch him checking him out as he got out of the shower, or just admiring him in general.

“Whatever. Just call me if your dad’s being too much of an ass and I’ll come get you.”

“Don’t you mean your mom will come get me?”

“Oh fuck off, I’ll be able to come get you in two months anyway.”

Before he could respond he was cut off by the bell. He was way too hungover for math this early in the morning, he’d probably just end up skipping.

“I’ll see you at lunch.”

“Yeah, see you.”

-

School was shit like always. He skipped his first two periods, he would’ve skipped the whole day but he had a stupid english test that he definitely failed.

He walked the long road from his bus stop to the farm, kicking rocks into the weed plants as he did so. When he finally got to the farm house he could hear his dad and towelie from inside talking about some stupid bullshit, undoubtedly high of out of their minds. God he hated that fucking towel.

He went right to his room, he still had 4 beers and almost half a bottle of whiskey. He desperately wanted to drink it but he just drank yesterday. Fucking bullshit alcoholic gene. He could smoke some weed but then he’d have to talk to Randy and he really didn’t want to get involved in his bullshit today.

He could call Kyle.

Kyle told him he could stay at his house whenever, which was basically a given but it was still good to have heard. He could call Kyle and stay at his house so he didn’t have to deal with Randy’s bullshit. But if he did that he’d risk having to face his fucking feelings and he wouldn’t even be able to drink them away.

The right choice was obvious even if he really, really wanted to just get drunk. Oh fuck it, he could always skip school tomorrow and drink if things went badly.

He pulled out his phone and hit the call button. It didn’t ring for long, Kyle usually picked up immediately.

“Hey Stan, what’s up?”

“Randy’s on his stupid bullshit again. It’s not bad this time just annoying.”

Stan paused for a second before continuing, it wasn’t too late he could still just stay here and finish that bottle. Wait fuck, then he’d have to come up with an excuse for why he called. God damn it.

“Can your mom come pick me up, I’ll stay the night that way she won’t have to take me home.”

“You don’t even have to ask. She’ll be there soon.”

“Thanks man.”

“Anytime.”

Chapter 3: Chapter Three

“And then through this door is my bedroom, over there is the bed, and next to that is my desk. And then if you’ll look over there, that is my closet.”

“I know what your bedroom looks like dude, I was here a few days ago,” Stan said as he put his bag down.

“Just thought I’d give you a tour since you haven’t slept over in so long.”

“Yeah, yeah I get it.” Stan collapsed onto Kyles bed and Kyle sat next to him.

“Why haven’t you been staying over?” Kyle looked down at his blanket, “Kinda miss having your ass around all the time.”

He was here most of the time, whenever he wasn’t drunk he was usually at Kyle’s or out somewhere with him.

“I do see you and come over all the time.”

Kyle fidgeted with his blanket as he talked, “You don’t sleep over much anymore though.”

“I don’t know man, I just,” he cut himself off with a sigh. “Yeah I don’t know, I don’t have an excuse.”

Kyle looked up from the blanket and at him, “I’m glad you called. I’m not glad Randy’s being a dick but I’m happy you’re here.”

“I’m happy I’m here too.”

The two sat in silence for a moment, when all of a sudden a look of remembrance came over Kyle’s face. Kyle got up and went over to his backpack, pulling out his history textbook and some paper.

“Oh fuck did we have history homework?”

“Yeah, I just remembered.”

“I hate that fucking class it’s so shitty.” Stan groaned.

Kyle snorted, “You say that about all your classes.”

“We can’t all be on honor roll like you.”

“It’s just answering questions in the textbook if you want to get yours and do it with me.”

“I lost that textbook a while ago, I’m just gonna sit here and wait for you to be done.”

“I know what you’re thinking, and no I’m not gonna give you the answers when I finish.”

Stan groaned again, and Kyle chuckled at his misfortune. God that laugh, he could listen to it all day.

That was another thing he loved about Kyle. Ever since middle school Kyle just got better and better at academics, always doing the work on time, taking honors classes, all that shit. Stan hated school but he found Kyle’s work ethic kind of hot in a nerdy way.

Stan sat up and ran his hands through his hair. He can’t be thinking about how hot Kyle was right now or for the rest of tonight. But looking over at him with his hair tied back and focusing intently on whatever the hell they were doing in history right now was making it extremely hard. He looked away and went on his phone, scrolling mindlessly through twitter to distract himself.

This was why he didn’t like sleeping here that often. Scratch that, he really liked sleeping here - this was why he didn’t do it.

-

After 20 minutes of Kyle doing homework and hours of playing video games Kyle started getting ready to go to sleep. It was just after 11, Stan forgot how early people go to bed when they aren’t getting drunk at night. Then again, even when he wasn’t getting drunk he didn’t go to sleep too early. Maybe it wasn’t a sober thing, maybe Kyle always went to bed this early and he’d just forgotten.

“You need clothes to borrow for the night?” Kyle asked him, already looking for a shirt and shorts in his closet.

“Yeah.”

He tossed Stan one of his favorite shirts, a simple green T-shirt with trees on it, and some shorts before lying down in his bed.

Stan got changed right there, it wasn’t an abnormal thing between the two. They’ve known each other forever and got changed in front of one another all the time, but Stan couldn’t help wondering what Kyle thought of his body. If he thought anything at all. He always thought of Kyle’s body whenever he changed in front of him, no matter how hard he tried not to. It wasn’t even really a sexual thing, more just Stan wanting Kyle to think he was attractive.

He finished getting ready and got into Kyles bed next to him. Kyle switched off the light and turned to his side, facing Stan.

“Night man.”

“Night.”

Kyle didn’t turn away from Stan as he closed his eyes and fell asleep, Kyle always fell asleep quickly. He wondered if he should turn away from him, he probably should have but he didn’t, instead he turned towards him and just looked at him. God he was so beautiful, he looked so peaceful. It was kind of creepy to watch your best friend sleep, really creepy actually, but this was the only time he could openly admire Kyle without fear of him noticing.

Kyle shifted in his sleep and his leg brushed up against Stan’s, staying there. He stopped his breath at the movement, feeling as though he’d been caught. At this point he definitely should have turned over, but yet again he didn’t.

Kyles hand was lying only a few inches away from him. Stan lifted up his arm and hesitated before lighting placing it on his friends. A few moments later Kyle softly held onto his hand, intertwining their fingers. Stan gasped and his heart sped up at the action. They were holding hands.

It didn’t mean anything though, Kyle was asleep, he didn’t know what he had just done and what it meant to Stan. But that didn’t matter right now, right now what mattered was that Kyle was holding his hand.

Slowly, Stan’s heart rate returned to normal and he fell asleep like that. With his hand in Kyle’s.

Chapter 4: Chapter Four

Notes:

Warning for the first part of the chapter, it somewhat resembles abuse. There’s no actual physical abuse but it resembles a situation like that.

As soon as Stan got home the next day he was greeted with the sight of Randy stumbling in from the kitchen with a beer in his hand.

“Where the hell were ya?” Randy asked, his words slightly slurred.

Stan sighed, “I was at Kyle’s.” He started towards his room before he was cut off by yelling.

“Hey! I’m talking to you.”

Stan turned around, “What?”

“You didn’t ask me if you could leave.” He mumbled.

What? He hasn’t asked Randy for permission to go anywhere in years. He didn’t care what Stan did as long as he came back eventually, hell he most likely wouldn’t care if he never came back.

“I never ask you, you don’t give a shit.”

Randy stumbled a little closer to him.

“I’m your dad, you fucking ask me these things.”

Stan wanted to roll his eyes, when had Randy ever been a dad to him. Never that’s when, not before the divorce and definitely not after.

But something stopped him from rolling his eyes. Something about the way Randy spoke was more aggravated.

Maybe this was one of the bad times?

He wasn’t fully sure whether to roll his eyes or barricade himself in his room. Was he over-analyzing another one of Randy’s bullshit rants or was it actually serious? Randy was usually just annoying when he was drunk; partying, doing stupid shit, and not caring if he lived or died. He didn’t usually get aggressive towards Stan, but when he did it was bad. Should he play it safe and assume this was one of those times?

In the end, he chose to take the safe option.

“Geese, sorry I’ll ask next time.”

Randy chugged down his beer, “Don’t talk to me like that I’m your father. Don’t talk to your fucking father like that.”

What the hell? He apologized. He never apologized to Randy, what attitude did he have?

“Like what?”

“Don’t give me that shit,” he threw the empty can onto the floor, “you think you can leave like your mom and Shelly?” He stumbled closer to Stan again as he spoke, Stan backed away this time. “You can’t.”

“I’m not gonna leave Randy.” Shit, this was one of the bad times. Randy was talking about his mom, about the divorce. It was always one of the bad times whenever he mentioned the divorce.

“Don’t fucking call me that, I’m your father!” Randy shouted at him, much louder than before.

He backed further away, he could make a run for his room. Randy got aggressive never violent. Well, violent towards Stan at least. He wouldn’t have to worry about a fight if he ran, but he had no clue how Randy would react if he did that. He just knew it wouldn’t be good.

Stan lowered his voice a little, “I think you should lie down.”

“I should lie down?” He stumbled over his words as he spoke, his voice getting louder with every word. “Who’s the one who pays for all the booze you drink? Me, I fucking pay for it. Who bought this house? Me. You’re fucking 15, don’t tell me to lie down.”

“I’m 16, dad.” He hated calling Randy dad, he never did. He hadn’t since he was 11, but it would probably help to calm him down if he did.

At that Randy groaned and backed away from him, Stan let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding when he did. Calling him dad worked, thank fucking god.

“Whatever,” he mumbled, “just go get me another beer. Make yourself fucking useful.”

He made his way to the kitchen cautiously, not wanting to set Randy off again. There was only one beer left in their fridge, it was usually full. Randy drank a lot, more than his usual a lot. Stan probably would’ve been able to tell sooner if their house wasn’t always covered in empty beer cans and bottles.

He put the can on the coffee table on his way to his room, neither of them said a word when he did.

-

He locked the door as he walked in. Better to be safe.

He sighed and dropped his bag on his bed, opening it and rustling through the scattered papers and notebooks to get the shit he brought to Kyle’s. He pulled out his clothes from yesterday, his phone charger, his toothbrush, and Kyle’s shirt.

Wait, what?

He looked at it, the shirt he borrowed from him last night. One of Kyle’s favorite shirts, the green one with pine trees. Fuck, he must’ve forgotten to give it back this morning and just stuffed it in his bag with the rest of his shit. He tossed it onto his pillow, he’d just bring it back tomorrow.

He opened his bottom dresser drawer and grabbed out the half full whiskey bottle from two days ago, the other empty bottles he had stashed in there made a clanking sound when he moved it.

One and a half days sober, not too bad all things considered but still, it wasn’t as long a streak as it could have been.

Screw it, he popped off the cap and got a couple shots worth down in one swig. He earned this one with the bullshit he just had to deal with. Fucking Randy. Why’d he have to chose today to have a god damn melt down. He gulped some more of the liquid down as he collapsed onto his bed, some of the liquor spilling on his mouth as he did. Randy, his shithead of a father who somehow always found a way to ruin a relatively good day.

He put the bottle down on the floor and stared up at his ceiling, the buzz from the alcohol starting to wash over him.

Jesus fucking christ. What was the point of all this? Dealing with Randy’s shit, getting drunk all the time to avoid his shit, getting drunk all the time to feel happy, to feel something, putting up with school, living on a fucking weed farm in the middle of nowhere, and pining over his best friend like a pathetic gay loser. That was his life. It was such a shit life. Every day was either shitty or mundane. He should just end it all. He didn’t have anything to live for other than Kyle anyway. The one good thing in a sea of so many shitty things.

He brought his hands to his face and rubbed his eyes. He sat up and slowly finished off the rest of the bottle. He couldn’t deal with this right now. His buzz intensified, finally starting to feel drunk he lied down again.

He brought a hand back to his face and held his forehead, he started laughing involuntarily. God, he was fucked up.

He rolled over to his side and kept laughing, just laughing for no god damn reason.

Stan wasn’t sure when, but at some point he started crying and his laughter got mixed with tears.

At some point it turned into just tears.

There was a shirt in front of him. It didn’t look like his. He lifted it up to get a better look at it. It was Kyle’s shirt.

Kyle.

He loved Kyle.

He pulled the shirt close to his body and clung onto it as he cried. He didn’t stop crying for a while.

Chapter 5: Chapter Five

Notes:

Vomiting is mentioned, not graphic but warning for that.

Stan woke up to a dark room, he was clinging onto Kyle’s T-shirt, his head was throbbing, and his ears were ringing. He let go of the shirt and sat up, what the hell?

What time was it? When had he fallen asleep? He reached over and flicked on his lamp. The rays of light immediately hit his face, glowing with the force of a thousand suns they blinded him and he pulled his hand up to cover his eyes.

Jesus Christ almighty, why the hell was it that bright?

Stan reached over again to flick off the lamp, grabbing at it a couple times before it switched off. Good lord. His head was still pounding and his ears were still screaming, but at least now his eyes weren’t being assaulted.

Though that small relief was short lived as a wave of nausea overtook him. He felt sick, like he had to puke. Scratch that, he was going to puke.

He pushed himself off the bed, his legs were wobbly but he ran to his bathroom anyway. The darkness didn’t help him make his way there as he tripped over the empty bottle on his floor, barley catching himself on the bathroom doorframe. He stumbled over to the toilet, falling to his knees in front of it, and bracing his hands on the side before retching and throwing up.

Once it ended Stan caught his breath, not bothering to move from his position for a bit just in case he started puking again.

The ringing in his ears suddenly got louder and the sound switched from a high pitched screech to vibrating. He moved his hands to the toilet seat and pushed himself up from his elbows. That wasn’t coming from his ears, it was coming from near the door.

He craned his head slightly to look by the doorframe, his phone. His phone was ringing. It must’ve fallen out of his pocket or something when he tripped.

In one clumsy motion Stan threw himself off the toilet with his arms, he crashed into the bathroom wall, and slid his body towards the phone. He stretched his arm as far as it would go and retrieved his phone. He picked it up without looking at the caller ID, answering “Yeah?” as he pushed himself into a sitting position, leaning up against the wall he just slammed into.

“Hey,” oh shit, it was Kyle. Fuck, fuck, fuck. “My mom’s taking me practice driving in the Home Depot parking lot since they’re closed. If you want to come, we can swing by to get you in five.”

The Home Depot closes at ten, shit it’s already after ten?

“Yeah, uh, you know I would,” Stan cut himself off to clear his throat, “I would but I uhm value, value my life and I uh don’t really want to get into a car accident in a Home Depot parking lot.”

Shit, he just fucked that up so hard, he was so caught off guard he kept talking over himself. Stan smacked his free hand to his forehead, immediately regretting it as it only worsened his head ache.

“Fuck you dude I won’t kill you. Also are you feeling alright, you don’t sound too well?”

Wait, he could use this. Say he was just sick, that’s why he was acting weird, of course. “Yeah you caught me, I got a cold or some shit. Don’t want to infect you, might screw up your driving.”

“Whatever you say, I’ll let you know if I crash the car into the store and we have to run away to Mexico.”

“I’ll start getting the passports ready.”

“Alright good, later man.”

“Bye.”

Kyle hung up the phone and Stan dropped it next to him, barley having enough time to feel sorry for himself before another wave of nausea hit. He swung himself in front of the toilet, gripping the seat as his stomach emptied itself into the bowl.

Fucking hangovers.

He panted and rested his head on one of his arms, reaching up the other one to flush the toilet.

When the water finished spiraling down he summoned all his strength to push himself up once again. Stan’s legs shook and stumbled as he tried to stand, he gripped harder onto the toilet bowl before steadying himself and letting go. He reached over, grabbing the counter and pulling himself in front of his mirror. He looked up at himself.

God he looked like shit.

His eyes were bloodshot and the bags underneath them were so dark and noticeable; despite the fact that he was passed out drunk and sleeping half the damn time. His hair was unruly, greasy, strands were standing up, it was damaged from all the fucking bleaching, and his roots were showing. His shirt was wet, he remembered spilling some whiskey on himself, and crying. The stain was either from whiskey or tears, he hoped it was whiskey.

God he was such a fuckup.

Stan stared at his reflection in the mirror; Why’d you tell Kyle no you piece of shit? Why’d you lie you fucking homo? Big piece of shit homo drunk. That’s all you are.

He looked away and ran his hands through his hair, snapping away from his thoughts. His head was still pounding. He hobbled over to the the toilet and picked up his phone.

10:23

That wasn’t too late. Drinking would help to cure his hangover, and he had time. He shoved his phone into his pants pocket and moved clumsily into his room and over to his dresser. He looked at the remaining full bottles in his drawer.

Four fucking beers? That was fucking it? Did he really finish off all the god damn whiskey? He grabbed one of the empty bottles surrounding the beer and chucked it as hard as he could at the wall. The beer bottle hurtled towards the opposite end of the bedroom. It smashed and immediately shattered violently against his wall, breaking into hundreds of tiny glass fragments. The small bits went in all directions and landed all over his floor. There was a wet spot on the wall from the few drops of beer that were still contained in the once in tact bottle, tiny glass shards cling to the wetness. Luckily for him, none of the bits got on his nightstand or in his bed. They just covered a patch of his floor, from one particularly large chunk a foot away from his nightstand to the minuscule bits that were everywhere.

Fucking bullshit, four fucking beers. He groaned and staggered over to his bed, flopping face first onto it. He can’t even drink some decent booze in peace.

There was something under his chest, something lumpy, it was incredibly irritating. Stan reluctantly moved his arm to get it out. It was that fucking shirt. Kyle’s shirt. The god damn reason for all of this.

He knew realistically that Kyle’s shirt didn’t do anything to cause his headache, heartache, or lack of booze. But still. It felt good to blame something other than himself.

The shirt was wet just like his own, it was stained with tears. His tears. He pulled it up to his face again. He knew what he did next was probably wrong, but he brought it to his face and inhaled.

It still smelt like Kyle.

Chapter 6: Chapter Six

Summary:

I love writing the angsty chapters of this fic but I wanted to add a little fluff too. So enjoy a break from the angst :)

“My mom thinks I’m getting a lot better at driving. She wasn’t reminding me what to do every second last night, she just sat there as I drove around the parking lot.”

“Damn, you must be like the world’s best driver then.”

“I know, it was a little weird actually. I’m so used to her coaching me through every step.”

The wind blew Stans hair as they walked through the town past the houses. He brushed it out of his eyes, rubbing it as he did so.

“I really need to re-bleach my hair.”

“You know you’re gonna fry it off if you keep bleaching it, right?”

“I haven’t bleached it in months.”

“True,” Kyle got his key out of his pocket as they walked up to his front door.

“Nobody’s home?”

“No,” he opened the door and they walked in “My dad’s at work and mom is out shopping with Ike.”

He hummed in response.

“You know, I think I still have a box of bleach left over from when you let me bleach your hair last time.”

“You want to bleach it right now?”

“Yeah if you’re down.”

“Sure, why not.”

-

Kyle always liked bleaching his hair. He wasn’t fully sure why. It started when he tremendously fucked it up in 8th grade and he asked Kyle to fix it. The one time he bleached it on his own Kyle looked kind of sad. Disappointed. He didn’t know why.

“Alright it’s mixed, sit down.”

He complied and sat on the chair Kyle brought up for him. Kyle stood behind him and ran his fingers through Stan’s hair, playing with it. He loved when Kyle played with his hair, he wasn’t sure why he did it, it wasn’t necessary, but he didn’t care.

A few moments later Kyle took his hand out of Stan’s hair, he let slip an annoyed sound at the loss of touch.

Kyle grabbed the brush and dipped it in the bleach.

“Quit whining.” His tone was playful.

“What if I don’t?” Stan thought.

“Well then you won’t get your hair done.” Kyle said as he grabbed a strand of his hair and stroked the brush from where his roots began all the way down.

“What?”

Kyle grabbed a second strand and did the same thing, “If you don’t stop whining you won’t get your hair done.”

Oh shit, did he say that out loud? He did not mean to say that out loud, shit.

“You weren’t supposed to hear that,” he groaned. He’d bang his head onto Kyle’s counter right now if he wasn’t mid-bleach.

“Too bad.”

They sat in silence for a while after that. One would think it’d be awkward considering what he just let slip, but it was actually quite comfortable. Almost domestic in a sense. Kyle dipping the brush, applying product to a new strand of hair, Stan enjoying the touch. It was simple, just being in the room with Kyle, no words necessary. It was nice.

“Alright the bleach is done, I’ll get the shower cap and in 10 minutes we’ll tone it.”

Done? Already? It’s been like 5 minutes.

“How did you do it that fast?”

Kyle pulled Stan’s hair up as he put the shower cap over his head to let it develop. “It took the same amount of time it always does.”

Huh, it didn’t feel like it.

Kyle sat across from him on the edge of his bathtub and Stan stared at himself in the mirror.

“I look stupid with this cap on.”

Kyle snorted, “Kind of yeah.”

He looked over at Kyle, he was staring at him, almost analyzing his face.

“What?”

“Nothing, you just look kind of cute with the cap on. In a dumb way.”

Kyle looked down after saying that, Stan kept looking at him, unsure what to make of that statement.

-

10 minutes passed. Kyle washed the bleach out of his hair and got the toner ready.

“I’m still not fully convinced I need the toner.”

Kyle gave him a look, the look he had whenever someone did or said something stupid. “Do you want your hair to be yellow?”

“It could be a look.”

Kyle rolled his eyes and applied the toner. Stan closed his eyes, allowing himself to lean into the touch. He’d probably regret it later when he got drunk but that didn’t matter right now.

“I’ve been thinking about my birthday. I kind of want to have a party but at the same time I want to just get my license and start driving somewhere you know?” Kyle said as he finished the toner and sat back down on the tub.

Stan didn’t open his eyes as he spoke, “You could do both.”

“How?”

“Get your license, have a small party at your house, and then go drive somewhere.”

“I want to go to Denver with you though, if I do both we’ll end up leaving too late.”

The roadtrip. He didn’t think Kyle remembered that, or actually wanted to do it.

“You’ll figure it out, you’re smart like that.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

They rinsed out the toner and he looked at his newly bleached hair in the mirror. Kyle ran his hands through it as he looked.

He kept finding ways to run his hands through Stan’s hair for the rest of the night.

Chapter 7: Chapter Seven

The first thing Stan did when he got home was go straight to his bathroom.

His hair definitely looked better. The roots weren’t showing and it was much cleaner. He ran his fingers through it like Kyle had been doing earlier. It wasn’t fried by any means, but he could still feel the damage the bleach had done to it.

He stared at his reflection in the mirror, continuing to run his fingers though his hair.

Why did Kyle like doing this? Why did he like playing with it? His hair wasn’t very smooth, or silky, or interesting in anyway. Well, other than its color. He didn’t understand Kyle’s fascination. He was probably giving himself too much credit, Kyle had liked playing with it for a while. Maybe there was no reason at all. Maybe Kyle just liked his hair.

Kyle’s hair would be much more interesting to play with. For someone to run their fingers through his curls, for Stan to run his hands through Kyle’s curls.

He’d like that a lot.

-

He didn’t feel the need to drink that night. Instead he just put a movie on and watched it on his phone. Some random comedy off of Netflix, it wasn’t bad but it wasn’t that memorable.

A text notification from Kyle popped up at the top of screen.

10:24
Can I come over tomorrow? Ike’s having a ton of his friends over and I don’t want to be here for that.

Why would Kyle want to go over his house? Well, he knew why, but why his house? His house sucked, he could easily go over to Kenny’s or Tolkien’s.

10:24
Why my house

10:24
Ik why but like why

Kyle’s response was immediate.

10:24
You were the first person that came to mind.

10:25
Randy might be doing some stupid shit yk how he is

10:25
I don’t care.

Kyle probably should care. Randy was passed out in his bed right now, most likely after a long day of drinking and getting high, but there was no guarantee he’d be like that tomorrow. It could range anywhere from him getting stoned and being docile, to loud parting, to very him being drunkly aggressive. He didn’t want Kyle to deal with that.

10:26
Are u sure abt that

10:26
Yes.

10:26
Its ur funeral

10:26
Come by whenever

He closed the message app and opened up Netflix again. Before clicking the play button he looked around his room.

Shit, it was a fucking wreck. He’d have to clean before Kyle came over.

Kyle’s shirt was still on his bed, he’d have to hide that. He should give it back to Kyle, but he wanted to keep it. It reminded Stan of him.

He grabbed it and shoved it in his drawer underneath all his clothes.

Shit, his drawer; the one with all his discarded bottles.

Kyle probably wouldn’t open it, but he couldn’t take that chance. He threw some of his laundry on top of it so the bottles wouldn’t be visible.

He went over to clear off his nightstand when he realized the glass from the beer he threw was still all over his floor.

He picked up all the glass bits and threw them in his trash, he’d have to empty that into the kitchen trash before Kyle came over too.

As he picked up the shards in his carpet he wondered where it all went wrong. Every fragment of glass like every time in his life where he turned to alcohol to escape his problems. There were a lot of fragments.

-

It was only 3 in the afternoon and Randy was already drinking and partying with his friends. Some of the people at schools dads, some of his drinking buddies, and some people he’d never even seen before all dancing to loud music and shotgunning beers like they were in college. Normally Stan would take some of their booze and drink with them for a little before retiring to his room, but Kyle was coming over. He couldn’t be drunk in front of Kyle. He could still steal some booze though.

When he got done hiding the bottles and beer he stole with the others he had his phone buzzed.

3:09
I’m here.

Kyle came into his room shortly after that.

“I take it Randy’s celebrating something.” He said as he put his bag down and sat on Stan’s bed.

“Yeah celebrating that he can get drunk.”

Something breaking could be heard from his room. The next thing he heard was Randy yelling something about a broken bong.

Kyle looked over at him, his expression a cross between pity and confusion. “Is it always like this?”

“No.” Sometimes it’s worse. “He’s passed out a lot, or out partying somewhere else where I don’t have to hear him.”

“I can see why we always hang out at my place.”

Kyle shifted awkwardly, “Do you want get out of here?” He asked.

“Out of where?” His house? This town? His answer would be yes to both of them.

“Your house, the farms pretty big we can go sit out there.”

“Yeah.”

-

It was weird sitting out on the farm with Kyle. The only other times he’d been out here willingly was to drink by himself or get away from his dad.

“Randy must make a shit ton with all the weed that’s out here.” Kyle remarked staring out at all the land.

“Yeah.”

Stan picked some of the bud off the plant in front of him and pocketed it. Kyle stared at him.

“What?” Did he do something?

“Nothing it’s just,” Kyle looked away from him, “are you sure you should be doing that?”

“You just said yourself that there’s a shit ton of weed out here. Randy won’t notice.”

Kyle looked back at him, “No I mean like with your sobriety.”

Oh. Sobriety. Right.

“Well I mean, it’s not like it’s alcohol. Don’t you smoke?”

“Yeah, not often but yeah. Sorry I just thought.” Kyle trailed off, not finishing the statement.

They sat in silence after that. Stan watched as the wind blew the plants. The breeze making them sway to one side, then stop, then sway again.

“I’m sorry.”

He looked up and over to Kyle. He was staring intently at the ground below them.

“For what?” What could Kyle be sorry for? He didn’t do anything, he couldn’t do anything. He was perfect.

“About your dad.”

“Oh. We don’t have to talk about him.”

He hoped they didn’t talk about him. The last time they talked about his family was when the divorce happened. Ever since then it was always just a topic they both knew about and never brought up, never talked about in detail. Stan didn’t like thinking about it, it was always in the back of his mind but talking about it would just make it so he couldn’t avoid it. As he grew up he always preferred to avoid things. He thought they both did when it was things like this.

“It’s just that it sucks you have to deal with him being drunk all the time. Especially given your history you know?”

Ugh fuck. He felt bad now. Kyle was trying to sympathize with how hard it must be being sober living with an alcoholic, but it wasn’t. It wasn’t hard because he wasn’t sober.

In the distance screaming and music could be heard. They both looked over and saw Randy and all his friends walking down their driveway and piling into various cars.

“Probably going off to party somewhere else.” Stan remarked, he threw a pebble into the distant plants as he spoke.

“Want to go back inside?” Kyle stood up and offered his hand to help him get up.

Without saying a word, Stan took his hand and followed him back to the house.

Chapter 8: Chapter Eight

Notes:

Change of plans on updating. I’m gonna try to work on it more so expect 2-3 updates every week from this point forward.

It wasn’t even 11pm and Kyle was already asleep. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to Kyle’s sleeping schedule. Kyle fell asleep almost immediately after he settled down for bed 30 minutes ago, Stan was still lying awake next to him.

There was a pit in his stomach. Uneasiness, anxiety, it felt like he was missing something. That feeling had been there for the past couple hours. He could ignore it before with Kyle there to talk to, but now, staring up at his ceiling, it was all he could focus on.

He turned his head, Kyle was facing away from him, curled up and covered by his blanket, a few of his dark red curls were visible from underneath the sheets. He looked so content. Stan envied him.

He got up as quietly as he could in an effort not to disturb Kyle and slipped into his bathroom.

He splashed some water on his face to try and calm himself down. Was he coming down with something? He was sweating, he couldn’t sleep, he felt nervous - all his usual feelings of “butterflies” around Kyle were amplified. This wasn’t about Kyle though, was it? No, Kyle was only in the next room over, he felt like something was missing.

When was the last time he had a drink?

Sweating, insomnia, anxiety; shit was this withdrawal? No, it couldn’t be. He’d gone longer without drinking before, it’d only been like 4 days, would he get like this now? He’d felt shitty after not drinking before, especially when he first tried, albeit failed, to get sober, but why would he feel like this now out of all times? He’d been drinking more frequently lately, maybe that was it? Or maybe it wasn’t withdrawal, maybe he was just sick.

There was only one way to know for sure.

Randy never came back, him and his friends probably left some booze behind in the living room. Wait, no, he already swiped some right before Kyle came, it was in his drawer. He had to be quiet though, Kyle couldn’t wake up and notice he was drinking.

Stan slinked out of the bathroom and over to his dresser drawer, he opened it and carefully pulled out one of the beers he had stashed. It made a clinking sound and Kyle shifted in his sleep, he sucked in a breath and pulled the bottle closer to his stomach.

After a few seconds he looked over, Kyle was still asleep. He let out the air he’d been holding in his lungs and opened the bottle right there. He chugged it down as fast as he could, every second it was in his hand was another second he could get caught and his entire world could come crashing down.

He finished the drink in one final gulp, before putting it back with the others he stood there for a second.

Stan brought his hand up to his forehead, he was still sweaty. He wasn’t sure if he could fall asleep now but the pit in his stomach was gone. Maybe he did just need a drink after all.

The bottle clanked the others as he set it down in the drawer. Before Stan could close it he heard a rustling noise behind him,

“Stan?” Kyle murmured from across the room.

On instinct he slammed the drawer shut and turned around. Kyle was sitting up half-awake peering at him through the blanket.

“What’s up?”

Kyle dropped the blanket slightly to get a better look at him, “What the hell are you doing?”

“I’m uh, just putting away laundry.”

Kyle grabbed his phone from Stan’s dresser, the light illuminating his drowsy features as he checked something. He was adorable when he was tired.

“Why are you putting laundry away at 11pm?” He asked, placing his phone back on the night stand.

“I,” he paused for a second, what’s a good reason for putting away laundry this late? “..couldn’t sleep.” Yeah, that worked.

“C’mere,” Kyle gave a half ass gesture towards the spot next to him on the bed, “just go to sleep for me.”

Huh, that was a strange way to phrase it, Kyle was usually spot on with grammar. Stan internally shrugged and chalked it up to Kyle being half-asleep as he walked over to his bed and lied down.

Kyle turned towards him as he lied down on the bed, he shuffled his body towards Stan’s so the two were touching as they lied there.

“Kyle?” Stan asked softly.

Kyle hummed in reply, shuffling closer to him and bringing his hand up to hold onto Stan’s arm.

He didn’t know what to say.

He told himself that Kyle was just asleep. Kyle was sleeping. The touch didn’t mean anything because he was asleep. Besides best friends touched all the time. It meant nothing. He tried his best not to focus on the touch, on Kyle’s hand that was on his arm, on Kyle’s legs that were against his, on Kyle’s head that was dangerously close to his own.

He tried his best to not focus his rapidly accelerating heartbeat. He tried his best just to fall asleep.

Chapter 9: Chapter Nine

Notes:

I know this chapter is short, my apologies, but in my defense life decided to give me a good kick in the balls. Turns out my, now ex, girlfriend had been cheating on me for the past 7 months with 6 different people. (That I know of) That was a good kick in the ass, and I will be taking out my emotions on Stan so buck up because the angst is going to start coming down hard very soon.

Randy didn’t come home for a while. 4 days to be exact. To be fair, he’d spent one of those days at Kyle’s, so maybe Randy was home then, but he doubted it.

He was in the kitchen heating up some leftovers when he heard the farmhouse door open. He didn’t have time to see who was there before Randy walked into the kitchen. He didn’t notice Stan at first, he simply sat down at the table and held his head in his hands.

Stan didn’t really care that Randy was home or that he was gone for so long. He probably would’ve cared more in the past, but with everything that happened in his life he stopped giving a shit if Randy was present or not. He was 16, whatever a father should’ve been doing for him he could do for himself. Besides, Randy had been gone before. And even when he wasn’t gone he didn’t do much. There wasn’t much booze at the house while he was out for more than a day or two, that was annoying, but with Randy being gone the farm was more peaceful. A little less shitty.

The microwave went off, Stan retrieved his food and Randy groaned.

“Stan?”

Stan didn’t look over at him as he spoke, “What?”

Randy groaned again, “Don’t talk so loud.”

He picked up a fork and tasted his food, it was still cold so he put it back in the microwave.

Randy made a short gagging sound, like he was trying to hold back vomit.

“Don’t throw up in here I’m not going to clean it up.” He didn’t hush his voice as he talked, he didn’t care how hungover Randy was.

A few seconds went by before Randy spoke again, “Aren’t you supposed to be in school?”

The microwave went off. He took his food out, “It’s 6 pm Randy.” he said as he walked out of the kitchen,

-

When he went to put his plate in the sink Randy was still sitting at the table staring at the floor.

“You’re not going to ask where I was?” He looked up from the ground.

“No,” he placed his plate in the sink, “I don’t care.”

“Nice way to treat your father.”

Ugh. Stan turned around to face him,

“Where were you?” He sighed.

On the surface Randy’s face was apathetic, but a closer look showed dejection and resentment in his eyes. It was a look Stan knew well, he looked at Randy with the same emotions. Apathy, dejection, and resentment.

“I was out.”

“I’m so glad I asked,” he rolled his eyes.

He wanted to leave, go back to his room and do anything other than stand in the kitchen. He could have, nothing was there to stop him. But he knew that Randy had more to say, more that he wanted to say. So he stood there waiting. His arms crossed leaning up against the kitchen counter waiting for Randy to say whatever it was that he wanted to say.

After a few minutes of standing there in silence he gave up. He scoffed and started back to his room. As soon as he did so Randy stood up.

“I’m going to get some beer, you want anything?” Randy asked, grabbing his keys.

“Vodka,” he said not stopping as he went back to his room.

Chapter 10: Chapter Ten

Notes:

I got fucking robbed and am now poorer than I was before, anyway here’s chapter ten.

“Ugh I don’t get why we have to do this.”

“To learn about films and what makes them better, like the setting, tone, writing,” Kyle spoke as he typed on his laptop.

“I thought film class meant making movies and shit,” Stan closed his laptop and huffed, tossing it to the side, “not writing boring essays on other people’s movies from the 1900s.”

“I’m pretty sure we make a short film for the final.”

He groaned and flopped down onto Kyle’s bed, Kyle looked over at him.

“Did you finish your essay?”

He picked at the fuzz on Kyle’s blanket as he spoke, “I got a paragraph done.”

“It’s supposed to be 4 paragraphs.”

“Whatever.”

Kyle finished typing and scooted closer to him.

“Did you finish that already? We only started like 20 minutes ago.”

Kyle shrugged, “English is my favorite subject, that’s probably why I write fast.”

“I thought you liked history the best?” He cocked his head towards Kyle.

“I like them both.”

He never really liked school, especially the more academic classes. He preferred art and music, but even those were kind of shitty.

Stan sat up, his leg brushing against Kyle’s as he did so.

“By the way, is Randy back yet?” Kyle asked, his tone serious.

“Yeah, came back a couple days ago.”

“You didn’t say anything?”

“No?”

Kyle had a strange look on his face, one that Stan couldn’t quite place, which was odd since he could usually tell what Kyle was feeling.

“Why not?”

Stan looked down and picked at the hem of his shorts, “I don’t know, it just didn’t come up.”

Kyle didn’t respond so he continued,

“Besides it’s not like he does much when he’s at the house anyway.”

Kyle’s hand brushed against his own and he rubbed his thumb lightly on Stan’s thigh. Before he even had time to process the touch Kyle took his hand away.

He looked up, Kyle still had that look on his face. It was almost a look of sympathy, but there was some other emotion there, something Stan didn’t recognize in Kyle.

“Why’d you ask?”

“Because I care about you stupid,” the look of not quite compassion faded off of Kyle’s face only to be replayed with a playful one.

Kyle reached over and picked up his laptop, sliding slightly away from Stan on the process.

“C’mon get your laptop I’ll help you with the essay.”

Stan sighed and flopped back onto Kyle’s bed. “Fine.”

-

Stan walked with Kyle to the dinner table where his mom had made pasta.

“Where’s your dad?” He asked as he sat down next to Kyle.

“Gerald had to work late,” Sheila responded on behalf of Kyle, “where is Ike?”

Kyle grabbed two bowls of food, one for him and one for Stan, “probably in his room watching one of those stupid gameplay videos.”

“Don’t talk about your brothers interests that way. Ike! Dinner!”

Ike came down shortly after that, his eyes glued to a video on his phone.

“No phones at the table.” Shelia reminded him as he sat down.

He always liked dinner at Kyle’s house. It was a little abnormal to him since he’d been eating dinner by himself in his room or skipping it entirely for three years, but it was nice. Comforting in a way.

“Kyle have you given anymore thought to your birthday?” His mom asked him.

“I want to get my license early in the morning and then go to Denver with Stan that afternoon.”

“You don’t want a party?” Ike asked him, speaking up for the first time since he’d came down.

Kyle wanted a party, he’d told Stan that himself. He looked over at Kyle who was moving his food around with fork and looking down.

“I do, maybe in between when I get my license and when I leave. Not a big one though.”

Sheila hummed at her sons answer and they finished the meal in silence.

He was still a little shocked that Kyle actually wanted to go to Denver with him. They were best friends so it made sense but still. The fact that Kyle wanted to spend the night of his 16th birthday with just him was a shock. Kyle deserved more than just him for his birthday.

-

He was sitting on Kyle’s bed scrolling mindlessly through Twitter when he heard the shower shut off. He didn’t think anything of it until a few moments later Kyle walked out with just a towel wrapped over his waist.

He looked up from his phone and watched as Kyle went over to his dresser to pick out his clothes for the night. He looked back down and tried to continue scrolling through his feed, to pay attention to anything other than Kyle’s exposed body, but through the corner of his eye he saw him. Jesus fucking Christ he was hot.

Kyle was so effortlessly attractive, he envied it almost as much as pined over it. Stan finally looked fully from him, turning his body and going back to scrolling on his phone. He shouldn’t be thinking like this. He shouldn’t be ogling his best friend who was just trying to get changed. It wasn’t right. What would Kyle think if he noticed? He’d probably be disgusted. Kyle wasn’t even gay. And even if he was he didn’t feel the same way towards him. Stan was wrong for staring at him.

Stan was wrong for wanting him.

Chapter 11: Chapter Eleven

He skipped school the day after that night, he just sat in the school bathroom all day until he could finally go home. There were a couple texts from Kyle on his phone asking where he was and why he wasn’t in history. He just shot off some reply about being sick when he got home and hoped that would be the end of that. He didn’t go to school the day after that either.

When he finally woke up it was around 5pm. He had a headache, his room was a mess, he wasn’t even sure how it got this bad since he’d cleaned it not that long ago. There were clothes everywhere, at some point his trashcan got knocked over, there were also empty beer bottles scattered all over the floor.

Stan rolled over to his side and something poked him in the back.

“What the hell?” He asked aloud, the question directed at nobody in particular, as he picked up an almost half empty bottle of vodka.

Good lord, how much did he drink last night?

Stan didn’t want to get out of bed. It was so much easier not to, but he had to piss so he willed his body to move, trudging through the clothes and trash to get to his bathroom. When he made it there he was greeted with the sight of vomit in his toilet. He groaned in disgust and flushed it before going about his business.

Shortly after he returned to his bed, he sat up against the wall and grabbed the vodka, downing a few shots.

He’d wanted to save this. It was slightly better than the shit Randy usually had, he wasn’t sure why Randy picked this of all times to get the, somewhat, expensive shit but he wasn’t going to complain. Why didn’t he save this? There was a ton of beer and Randy’d gotten some cheap whiskey for himself. He chugged down some more of the liquor, if he’d already drank half there was no point in saving the rest, when it hit him.

Kyle.

At Kyle’s house, when was it? Two, three days ago? Today was Wednesday right? Whatever, at Kyle’s house when he got out of the shower. He had spent the night trying not to think about his best friend’s body, all the while said best friend slept less than a foot away from him. So when he came home he drank the first bottle he found in his room, said bottle just so happened to be the good vodka he’d wanted to save.

He let his head fall back onto his wall as the emotions came back to him. Guilt, regret, self-pity, disgust; all flooding back into his body one by one.

He shouldn’t have been staring at Kyle. If Kyle noticed, if he knew. Stan hated the thought of it. Of Kyle knowing. He hated himself for it even more.

He sighed and took another swig off the bottle. Why did he have to do that? Why’d he have to stare at his friend like that? He’d known that Kyle was in the shower, he’d heard the water shut off. He should have known Kyle would’ve come out in a towel, he should’ve known what his reaction was going to be to it, and he shouldn’t have stared. Stan shouldn’t have kept looking.

God he was so stupid for looking. He deserved this. He deserved feeling like shit, he deserved this shitty life, he deserved a drinking problem. He deserved everything because of how stupid he was. Stupid for indulging his feelings, stupid for going over Kyle’s in the first place, stupid enough for thinking Kyle would ever love him back.

But that’s the thing. He knew Kyle wouldn’t love him back. He could hope, he could dream, but he knew. Deep down he knew. How could Kyle ever love him back? He was gross. Gross for loving Kyle in the first place. What kind of a person thinks about their best friend that way? Him, that’s who. Even he was repulsed by himself. By his habits, by his room, and by his feelings. Especially by his feelings.

One by one all Stan’s feelings of self hatred eventually blended together. As he downed more and more vodka his buzz intensified, blurring all the emotions he felt into one dark thought.

He should just end it all.

What was the point anyway? Going from hating himself and drinking, to hating himself and being sober, to being with Kyle and hating himself a little less, only for him to hate himself even more after. What was the point?

As the thought swirled in his mind he kept drinking. Stan didn’t want to think like that. So he kept drinking more and more booze until he couldn’t think anymore.

Eventually the bottle was down to its last few gulps and Stan couldn’t even string together coherent thoughts. He was too drunk to want to kill himself anymore. Instead of hurting himself he just picked up his phone and hit shuffle on his playlist.

He sat there and listened to music as his phone buzzed, and buzzed, and buzzed.
He’d check the messages later. They probably weren’t important anyway.

-

5:38
Hey Stan are you okay? I haven’t heard anything from you all day.

5:38
Reply to your message; “Im sick”
The last thing you sent me was this and I thought I’d leave you alone at first but now I’m worried.

5:39
I’m going to come over tomorrow and check up on you. I hope you’re doing alright.

Chapter 12: Chapter Twelve

Notes:

Okay so in the first chapter of this fic I said I was expecting it to be around 30k, now looking at the plan I have written out I’m expecting it to be a little shorter. Somewhere in the 20-25k range.

In other fic news, this chapter and the ones that follow it are going to be slightly longer than they have been so far. Not all of them are going to be longer, but a lot of them.

Stan woke up with a pounding headache the next morning. The sun rays beamed directly into his eyes, he rolled over onto his side to avoid their path.

What time was it?

Without looking he reached over onto his nightstand to grab his phone but it wasn’t there. He groaned and reluctantly sat up to search for it.

The search didn’t take long as it was lying by his feet. He picked it up to check the time but it was dead.

Much to his annoyance he got out of bed to plug it in.

His room was still a wreck. In addition to the mess that was already there an empty bottle of vodka was on his bed, a wet spot surrounded it.

Shit, it must’ve spilled.

As he waited for his phone to charge he put the vodka with the rest of his empty bottles and took the sheets off of his bed. He haphazardly threw them on top of the other clothes on the floor, doing the laundry was a future him problem.

His phone was finally charged and he checked the time; 3:18. Shit he’d missed school again. It wasn’t like he wanted to go, but all his absences were slowly piling up and he really didn’t want to deal with a truancy letter. He’d go tomorrow, wasn’t like he could turn back time and go today anyway.

On his phone there were also four unopened texts from Kyle.

 

5:38 Yesterday 

Hey Stan are you okay? I haven’t heard anything from you all day.

5:38 Yesterday
 Reply to your message; “Im sick”
The last thing you sent me was this and I thought I’d leave you alone at first but now I’m worried.

5:39 Yesterday

I’m going to come over tomorrow and check up on you. I hope you’re doing alright.

3:01 Today
School just got out I’m coming over soon.

 

Oh fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. That was almost 20 minutes ago, Kyle would be here soon, extremely soon. Shit.

Stan tossed his phone onto his bed and sprang up to clean whatever he could before Kyle arrived. He grabbed the beer bottles and shoved them under his bed, there was no time to put them with the rest. He took the alcohol stained sheets along with some of his clothes and hurried to start a load of laundry.

As he was pouring the detergent into the washing machine he heard knocking at the door.

Shit, that was probably Kyle.

“Just a sec!” He yelled as he slammed the washing machine shut.

He went to get the door before he realized he was wearing the same clothes he had on at Kyles. Fuck, they probably smelled like booze too.

He ran into his room to change, throwing on random clothes he found on his floor and shoving his old ones underneath his bed with the beer.

He heard more knocking at the door, followed by Randy yelling at him to go get it.

“Shit, I’m coming!”

He opened the door and saw Kyle standing there.

“Hey, I just wanted to come check up on you. Did you see the messages I sent?”

“Uh yeah, yeah I saw them, come in.” He said, gesturing inwards to the house.

They made their way into Stan’s room and sat down on his bed.

Kyle looked around his room, his face a mix of concern and confusion. “What happened to your sheets?”

“Oh that, I uhm, I spilled some soda on them, they’re in the wash now.”

Kyle’s confused look didn’t fade, “Uh okay.”

Stan looked around his room, making sure no bottles were visible on the floor. As his eyes searched the space a green shirt caught his eye near the foot of his bed, Kyle’s shirt. Shit. He used his foot to discreetly push it under the bed when Kyle spoke up again.

“Are you doing alright, no offense but you look like hell.”

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine. Just sick, my head is pounding.”

Kyle examined his features as he spoke, it was kind of off-putting, like Kyle was staring into his soul.

“You’ve been getting sick a lot lately.” Fuck, Stan had to start coming up with better excuses. Before he had the chance to defend himself Kyle went on, “And you haven’t been to school in 3 days, I’m worried about you dude.”

Stan looked in the direction of his driveway, “Is your mom waiting outside for you?” He deflected.

“No, I asked her to come get me in a few hours. What’s going on with you? You seem kind of off lately.”

Shit. This was it. Kyle knew, he was finally catching on after a whole year. He had to think of a good excuse, a fool-proof one. If he didn’t he was completely fucked.

Stan sighed. “Okay okay, you got me. I’m not actually sick.”

Kyles eyes shifted and his usual “I knew it” look showed through his concern,

“Continue.”

Stan paused for a second, looking at the ground. What could he say, fuck, what could he say? Anniversary of the divorce? No, that was in January. Someone died? No, that was too big of a lie. Randy?

“It’s Randy.”

He felt the weight of his bed change as Kyle shifted closer to him.

“What happened?” Kyle questioned, his voice softer than before.

“He’s, he’s been drinking more. Look can we just like, not talk about it? Please.”

Kyle sighed and Stan looked up to meet his gaze, he felt bad about lying to Kyle, he really did but he didn’t have any other option. Besides, it wasn’t even really a lie right? Randy was a shitty father, that would always be true, and he always drank. Yeah, yeah it wasn’t really a lie. Right?

“We don’t have to talk about it.”

Oh thank god.

-

Kyle had offered to help him clean his room. It was a nice gesture but Stan couldn’t risk him finding anything. Besides it was kind of embarrassing. Sure, his room had been worse before, much much worse, but he didn’t want Kyle to have to deal with it. That was his burden.

They did end up putting on new sheets though, so that was nice.

At some point after they put sheets on his bed he ended up lying down with his head in Kyle’s lap and with Kyle running his fingers through Stan’s hair.

It felt nice, he liked it. In the back of his mind he felt guilty, guilty for allowing it to happen, guilty for enjoying Kyle’s touch but he was trying his best not to focus on the guilt. Instead he tried to focus on Kyle’s words, he was recapping what Stan had missed in both history and film.

“Okay and then in history, remember how we were learning about the Great Depression?”

Stan hummed in reply.

“Okay, well we’re still learning that but now we’re learning about prohibition.”

“What the fuck is prohibition?”

“You know the 18th amendment?”

“No.”

Kyle looked down at him, “We learned them at the beginning of the year.”

“You know damn well that I don’t remember anything from the beginning of the year.” He barely even remembered anything he learned in school a couple weeks ago.

“Okay well the 18th amendment banned the sale and production of alcohol. It didn’t last very long, only 13 years.” Stan closed his eyes and leaned into Kyle’s touch as he spoke, “It started right before the Great Depression and stopped in the middle of it.”

“Sounds boring.”

“It’s actually pretty interesting.”

He scoffed, “How is it interesting?“

“It showed how the government tried to ban alcohol and failed, also the mob was involved for a while.”

“The mob part sounds a little interesting, not the rest of it though.”

“So basically the mob,”

He cut Kyle off, “Never mind. The mob part is not interesting.”

“You’re going to have to learn about this tomorrow anyway, you do realize that right?”

He groaned and opened his eyes to peer up at his friend, “Am I even going to use this in real life?”

Kyle stopped running his fingers through Stan’s hair, only to start twirling the strands around them instead. “Probably not, but you are going to use it in the project we have coming up.”

“Shit we have a project?”

“Yeah, it’s a partner project. We have to pick one part of the unit and make an in depth slide show on it.”

“It’s a partner project? Can I just work with you then?”

“Yeah,” Kyle said as he continued to twirl Stan’s hair “I am not doing all the work though.”

He faked an offended look, “I didn’t ask you too.”

“No, but you were thinking it. And just for that thought we’re doing it on prohibition.”

“Sometimes I feel like you enjoy seeing me suffering.”

Kyle laughed at that, “Just a little.”

Suddenly Kyle stopped playing with his hair, he looked up at him and saw him stretching his hands over his head. Instead of admiring Kyle’s arms or features he sat up. He didn’t want to focus on that right now, it would just ruin the afternoon. He wasn’t going to make that mistake again.

Chapter 13: Chapter Thirteen

Notes:

This was the hardest chapter for me to write so far. I think it’s because I know what’s going through Kyle’s mind while I’m writing, but Stan doesn’t and this fic is entirely his POV.

He walked into Kyle’s room and was immediately hit with the smell of weed.

“Shit,” Kyle coughed, “sorry.”

“It’s fine.” He said as he placed his bag down and sat next to Kyle.

He didn’t care that Kyle was smoking. He didn’t really like the smell, probably something to do with Randy, but it wasn’t a big deal. There were worse things in the world.

“How long did it take you to walk here?”

Stan shrugged, “Like 40 minutes.”

“Sorry you had to walk, my moms still out with Ike, I don’t know when she’ll be back. We can probably give you a ride back though.”

“It’s no big deal, it could be worse.”

“I guess,” Kyle took another hit off the joint he was smoking, almost immediately after he started cursing and coughing as he blew out the smoke.

Stan gave him a questioning look. What happened? Did he do something?

“I can put this out if you want, I didn’t think you’d get here so quickly.” Kyle said after he stopped coughing.

Was that all that happened? Him being here while Kyle was smoking?

“I don’t care man, actually can I take a couple hits?”

It had been a while since he’d just gotten high. He had a couple nugs in his room that he’d taken from the farm, but they were just sitting there. He preferred getting drunk.

Kyle handed the joint to him hesitantly, “You’re sure it won’t like, affect your sobriety or anything?”

“It’s just weed,” he said as he took a hit, handing it back to Kyle.

Even if he was sober he could probably still smoke weed. All that gateway drug bullshit didn’t apply to booze. Maybe it could even help him to not drink as much if he smoked more. Probably not though.

They sat there passing the joint back and forth for a while before Stan asked,

“Where’d you get this anyway?“

Kyle coughed and passed the now small joint back to him, “Kenny gave it to me, I’m not completely sure why. He just handed it to me after school a couple days ago and left.”

Stan made a sound of approval and took another hit.

-

Once he and Kyle got bored of playing video games they started watching random shows on Netflix. At some point it turned into a contest to see who could find the strangest show.

“What the fuck is this?” Kyle asked, laughing at one of the shows Stan had pulled up on Netflix.

“I don’t even know, I just pulled up something random,” he chuckled along with Kyle.

“It’s so bad,” Kyle could hardly get the words out through his laughter, “It’s not even that funny, the acting is just horrible.”

“I know. And it said there were 3 whole seasons.”

“Who the fuck would want 3 seasons of that?” Kyle gestured to the show as he composed his laughter.

“I have no clue.”

They made it through the first 5 episodes, critiquing the acting, the writing, and laughing at the absurdity of the plot as they watched.

“Wait, that dude’s dead?” Kyle asked when one of the characters referenced the death of another character.

“I guess so.”

“When did he die? Did they show it?”

“Uhh, I don’t think so.” Stan grabbed the remote and went back through the scenes to try and find the character's death.

Kyle pointed at the screen, “Hold on, right there. He’s still alive in that scene.”

Stan stopped rewinding and hit play, a few seconds after he did the character screamed out of nowhere and dropped dead.

“That’s how he died? He just fell over and died?” Kyle bursted out laughing.

Stan shrugged, chuckling slightly, “I guess so.”

He honestly wasn’t paying that much attention to the show. Majority of his attention went to Kyle, to Kyle’s body language, to Kyle’s laugh.

Kyle grabbed the remote out of his hand and fast forwarded to the part they were on before.

Nothing noteworthy happened in the plot for a couple minutes and Stan was growing bored.

“You know, you have a really nice laugh.” He said, breaking the silence.

Kyle looked up at him after he said that. There was an unfamiliar look on his face. Stan had never seen that look on Kyle before. It almost looked like he was contemplating something. Was he thinking about what Stan had said? Kyle didn’t say anything in response to him, he just stared at him with that look.

Fuck, should he have not said that? He probably shouldn’t have said that. Why was Kyle looking at him like that? Why did he say that? He probably just screwed this night up. Shit. He had to take it back, how could he take it back?

Stan was lost in his thoughts, not paying attention to Kyle anymore, he was just trying to think of a way to fix what he said. He could apologize? Would that work?

Before he had the chance to figure out what to say his train of thought was interrupted when Kyle suddenly kissed him.

As soon as he had time to register the gesture Kyle pulled away, the sensation of Kyle’s lips on his was gone in an instant.

What the fuck?

Stan sat up and raised his hand to his mouth, his fingers gracing his lips. What the hell just happened?

“Oh my god, oh my god I am so sorry.” He heard Kyle talking, barely making out the words.

Kyle just kissed him.

“Dude I am so sorry I don’t know what came over me-“

Kyle just kissed him.

He heard sounds but he couldn’t process what Kyle was saying or what was happening on the show he’d pulled up. Kyle, his best friend and longtime crush Kyle, had just kissed him.

He ran his thumb over his bottom lip. He had no idea what to think. No idea what to do.

He couldn’t be here right now.

“Stan I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to, I just, I think it’s the weed I’m so sorry, are you alright?”

He didn’t look up at Kyle as he grabbed his phone and put it in his pocket. He didn’t look up at Kyle as he stood up and got his bag. He had to leave right now, he couldn’t be here, he couldn’t think, he just had to leave.

“Stan, wait!” Kyle called from the bed as he walked towards the door, “Are you leaving?”

He didn’t look back, he couldn’t. He didn’t know what would happen if he did.

Chapter 14: Chapter Fourteen

He practically ran out of Kyle’s house, only slowing his pace to a walk when he was already down the block. Kyle started blowing up his phone the second he had left.

10:18
Stan I am so sorry.

10:18
I didn’t mean to I swear I really have no clue why I did that.

10:18
I shouldn’t have kissed you.

10:18
Please say something.

10:19
I can see you reading what I’m saying.

10:19
Stan???

All the messages were overwhelming him, it felt like his brain was about to explode. He could barely even process what Kyle was saying, let alone figure out what to say in response. The constant buzzing was starting to annoy him, it was louder than his own god damn thoughts for fucks sake, he could hardly breath.

10:19
Stan please talk to me I just want to-

He didn’t finish reading whatever it was that Kyle sent him. He couldn’t take it anymore and just shut off his phone.

He took a deep breath in, Jesus fuck.

Without his phone buzzing every two seconds he could finally focus on his thoughts, but without the flash on his phone he couldn’t focus on his surroundings. He knew how to get home though, and the darkness was calming in a way.

Fucking shit. Kyle had kissed him. Why the fuck did Kyle kiss him? Maybe it was platonic? Friends kissed each other sometimes. No. Not him and Kyle at least. Could he have meant it in a romantic way? Had Kyle ever shown an interest in him before? There was the time Kyle held his hand. No, he was asleep, that didn’t count. Maybe at his house when Kyle stayed over? They were basically cuddling, and Kyle had initiated it. That could be considered romantic, right? No, Kyle was half asleep that time too, he didn’t know what he was doing, did he? No. There was no way. What about all those times Kyle was running his hands through Stan’s hair? No, Kyle had been doing that since middle school. He hadn’t shown a romantic interest in him. He hadn’t. But, if it wasn’t romantic, why did Kyle kiss him? What could possibly have been going through his mind?

It just didn’t make sense. Could the kiss have just meant nothing to Kyle? How could a kiss just mean nothing? It didn’t mean nothing to him. Had Kyle said something about it not meaning anything when he was apologizing profusely? No, not that Stan had heard at least. So it had to have meant something. It had to.

He ran his thumb over his lips, he could still feel Kyle’s lips on his. The kiss only lasted for a second, but he could still feel Kyle’s lips on his. Kyle’s soft, sweet lips. He wanted Kyle to kiss him again. He wanted him to kiss him again, and again, and again. He wanted Kyle to kiss him longer, deeper.

Wait, fuck, no. No, he shouldn’t be thinking about it. It probably meant nothing. It didn’t have to mean something, not everything had a meaning. So why would this? Why would Kyle like him anyway? He wasn’t good enough for him. He was just a depressed alcoholic loser. There’s no way Kyle would like him. Kyle deserved more than him.

Besides, Kyle had apologized. He had said he didn’t mean to. That he shouldn’t have done it. That he didn’t know why he did. That was it. He didn’t mean to, so it was a mistake. Just a mistake. He regretted it so it wasn’t like Stan even had a chance. He didn’t know why he did it, so it probably meant nothing.

Stan heard the sound of a car pulling up next to him, the driver slammed on the break and snapped him out of his thoughts.

What the fuck? He couldn't make out any markings on it, did he know this person? Should he start running?

Oh fuck, was it Kyle? Maybe Kyle’s mom had come home and Kyle had come to find him. If it was Kyle he had to run. He couldn’t face him right now. He didn’t want to talk this out, he wanted a drink.

As the driver rolled down the window Stan prepared himself to start running before an all too familiar voice called out to him.

“I’m making a stop for some more beer, get in.”

Motherfucker.

“Jesus fucking Christ Randy, you can’t just do that.” He groaned as he got into the car.

“What?” Randy immediately put the car into drive and sped off, “I can’t pick up my own son?”

He couldn’t do this right now, he couldn’t listen to all of Randy’s “woe is me, I’m your father” bullshit right now. He had more important things to think about.

He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, “I can’t deal with your shit right now.”

Once they reached the liquor store Randy slammed on the breaks, it was like he never learned how to drive.

“You want anything well I’m in there?” Randy asked him as he got out his wallet.

Yeah, as much liquor as it would take for him to get blackout drunk for the rest of his life.

“As much booze as you’re willing to get me.”

Randy shot him a questioning look. He just turned away from him and stared out the window, “You don’t want to know, trust me.”

Chapter 15: Chapter Fifteen

Notes:

I’ve been getting a few comments on this fic, I don’t usually respond to comments since I almost never know what to say, but I do see them and to anyone who’s commented thank you. I’m glad y’all are enjoying the fic and I love reading your thoughts on it <3

Stan’s room was dark, dull, and cold. The silence was piercing. The space felt so empty, despite all the clothes and bottles that littered his floor. He lied still on his bed, staring at his door, wishing that he could simply fall back to sleep. Stan had been sleeping around 16 hours a day since he’d run out of the booze Randy got him. He wanted to ask for more but he couldn’t will himself to get out of bed for anything other than using the bathroom.

Stan’s phone laid shut off on his nightstand, where it had been since he’d gotten home. Scrolling through Twitter or watching Netflix would be a good distraction, but he didn’t want to see the messages Kyle had sent him. It was better to ignore them. If he avoided the problem then there wasn’t really a problem. At least not one Stan would have to face.

He rolled over onto his other side and pulled the blanket over his face. God he wished he didn’t drink everything. He couldn’t even remember most of the past week. Just drinking, sleeping, crying, and lying in bed doing nothing. It all blurred together.

He heard the door open. The light from the rest of the farmhouse seeped into his room, followed by a wave of warmth coming in. He could hear noise from the TV as Randy commented on the state of his room. Who was he to judge Stan? Their living room was always covered in beer cans and bags of weed because of him.

“Stan you need to go to school tomorrow.”

Ugh. When the hell did Randy start caring about if he went to school or not? He didn’t give a shit when Stan started drinking at 13, he didn’t give a shit when Stan had tried to run away and was gone for two weeks. And he sure as hell didn’t seem to give a shit the past few days when Stan was in his room not going to school, not getting out of bed, and not eating.

“Fuck off Randy.”

“The school called me and I’m not dealing with their bullshit.”

To hell with the school, all the shitty teachers, shitty kids, shitty classes. None of it fucking mattered anyway.

“I don’t care.” He murmured.

“They sent me a god damn truancy letter.”

“I said I don’t care.” Stan said in a monotone voice. He was so done with everything.

A couple seconds later he heard the sound of a bottle smashing against his floor, he sat up and looked over at Randy.

“I am not going to court for you Stan, you’re fucking going tomorrow and every other day after that.” Randy barked.

He probably should’ve felt something - anxiety, fear, uneasiness - because of Randy’s tone. Normally he would have, but he was just so done. If today was the day Randy wanted to snap at him so be it. He probably deserved it.

“Fine, I’ll go. Can you at least get me a couple more bottles?”

Randy’s brows un-furrowed and he unclenched his jaw, he looked around Stan’s floor, most likely at all the empty bottles covering it. His expression looked concerned.

There was absolutely no way Randy of all people was going to call him out on his drinking. After all the years Randy had devoted to alcoholism he lost the authority to judge Stan.

A few moments passed and Randy looked up from his floor, “Only if you start going to school.”

“Jesus, I already said I would. Now leave me alone.”

When Randy closed the door the light was gone, a blanket of darkness recovered him in an instant. He lied back down, the cold air settled back into the room. He felt like he was lying in a void of his own making. A void made up of cold darkness that was all consuming. That wasn’t the worst part though. The worst part wasn’t the darkness that surrounded him, it wasn’t the fact that he put himself in this position, it wasn’t even the empty feeling deep inside him.

The worst part was that he was okay with it.

There was always a part of him that was okay with all of it. But that part of him used to be buried under a hate for feeling the way he did. Buried under not wanting to feel the way he did, not wanting to be okay with it. And now all of that was gone. Now he was just okay with it.

He wasn’t sure if he should be scared that there was nothing stopping him from sinking or if he should be content with the fact that now he can sink in peace. He should probably be scared. It did scare a part of him, but he was just too tired to be afraid. He didn’t have the energy.

-

Randy showed up a couple hours later with 5 more bottles. Once he left Stan finally got up to grab one. It was more of the good shit. Expensive vodka, expensive whiskey.

He brought it back to his bed and started drinking. He didn’t feel the slight burn he usually felt when the liquor went down his throat. It just felt normal.

A couple drinks in and he grabbed his phone, turning it on for the first time in days. He had to go to school tomorrow so he’d have to see Kyle. If he couldn’t ignore the situation anymore he might as well read the messages.

 

10:18 Friday

Stan I am so sorry.

10:18 Friday

I didn’t mean to I swear I really have no clue why I did that.

10:18 Friday

I shouldn’t have kissed you.

10:18 Friday

Please say something.

10:19 Friday

I can see you reading what I’m saying.

10:19 Friday

Stan???

10:19 Friday

Stan please talk to me I just want to make this right.

10:20 Friday
Please.

2:30 Sunday
I know I shouldn’t have kissed you I’m sorry that I made things weird but please talk to me about it.

2:37 Sunday
At least say something.

2:37 Sunday
Anything.

3:00 Tuesday
I know you’re upset but you shouldn’t skip school because of this.

3:10 Wednesday
Stan you have to come school it’s been 3 days.

3:17 Today
I’m starting to get really fucking worried man.

3:18 Today
I just noticed you haven’t read anything I’ve sent you for 6 days.

3:18 Today
Are you okay?

3:19 Today
Please don’t do anything stupid.

 

As he was reading the messages a new one popped up.

11:23
Are you alright?

Stan took a couple long swigs off the bottle and started typing.

Yeah Im doing just peachy

No, no he couldn’t send that. That was too mean. He didn’t want to be mean to Kyle.

Im fine ive gotten so used to feeling like shit that im okay w it now so yk I kind of owe u one bc I dont have to fight anymore n honestly its a bit of a relief bc now I dont have to hide my feelings for u or my drinking bc nothing matters anyway

He definitely couldn’t send that. That message was more of a vent than an actual reply. He backspaced the message and tried again.

Yea

That was good. Simple. Not really the truth but it didn’t matter.

11:31
I don’t mean to sound rude especially given the circumstances but you scared the shit out of me because you were gone for 6 days and that’s all you have to say?

Shit, looking back it probably was a dick move to not explain everything to Kyle. But then again, he never really explained everything to Kyle. Not fully. Besides, Kyle had a lot of explaining to do too.

Stan wasn’t fully sure he wanted to hear an explanation though. It would answer all his questions, sure, but he knew that he probably wouldn’t like the answer. Especially if that answer was something confirming that Kyle didn’t love Stan in the way he wanted him to. He already knew that, he’d known that Kyle would never love him like that since day one, but hearing it from Kyle would crush him. Or maybe not. Maybe it wouldn’t destroy him. Maybe he was already completely destroyed.

Chapter 16: Chapter Sixteen

Notes:

OMG ITS BACK
This is quite literally the best moment of my life I was so close to loosing it
Anyway enjoy chapter 16, the plot will get more developed in the next chapter

Stan woke up the next morning to Randy pounding on his door. Jesus fucking Christ. He rolled over and checked his phone, it wasn’t even 7 am. What could he possibly need at this ungodly hour?

“Fuck off Randy!” He yelled.

Much to his annoyance Randy didn’t fuck off and the pounding only got louder. Stan groaned as he reluctantly got out of bed and opened the door.

“What the fuck do you want? It’s too early for your bullshit.”

“School, get ready.” Randy told him before heading back to his room.

Oh right, that.

After getting changed Stan started digging through all the shit on his floor to try and find his backpack.

God he did not want to go back to school. Having to be sober for 8 whole hours on top of dealing with his teachers and making up school work was not the ideal way to spend his day. He would also have to face Kyle, which was either going to be awkward as hell or make him feel like shit because of all that happened. It was really going to suck.

After a little searching he found his backpack next to the half full bottle he’d been drinking last night. He picked up both of them and stared at the bottle.

Going to school didn’t have to suck.

On the one hand he hadn’t been drunk in school since last year, it’d probably feel weird as hell to go back to being drunk in his classes again after so long. Plus if he smelled like booze or anybody, especially a teacher, noticed he was acting weird he’d get into even more trouble with school. Then he’d have to hear a whole lecture from Randy about how he’s “not going to deal with this bullshit.” He wouldn’t be able to catch up on a lot of his schoolwork either, but then again his GPA was already shit so that didn’t matter too much.

And then there was Kyle.

Things were weird with them right now. And his reaction to it last night definitely didn’t help. Kyle was probably mad at him for it, at least to some extent. So if Kyle noticed he was drunk on top of everything he’d completely fuck up their entire friendship. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to handle that.

But on the other hand, the day would suck so much less. He wouldn’t care as much about all of those things. And he was still passing, albeit barely, so as long as he showed up to all his classes he’d be fine. But Kyle was a different issue. He had to make sure Kyle didn’t notice anything.

The two classes he had with Kyle were 5th and 6th period, so by then the effects of the alcohol would wear off a decent amount. So, if he didn’t act too obviously intoxicated and he covered up the smell Kyle wouldn’t notice anything.

Well that settles that.

Stan looked at his phone, 7:02. So he had about 10 minutes to get to the bus. He zipped up his bag and started chugging down what was left of the bottle as he looked for something to cover up the smell.

The bottle was soon down to its last drops and the only thing he found that would work was a can of febreze in his bathroom. It was better than nothing.

-

Stan walked into his history class and sat down. Only one more class to go. Thank fucking god. The alcohol had started to wear off last period and now he was barely even buzzed.

The teacher rattled off something about reviewing possible project topics, he wasn’t fully paying attention. Soon after the teacher stopped talking a stack of papers was placed on his desk. Fucking god, he’d only been out 4 days, how was there this much work?

He flipped through the stack, it was all boring. Great Depression, Women’s suffrage, Dust bowl, blah blah fucking blah.

Stan could probably go fuck off in the bathroom for the rest of class. Kids were always vaping and getting high in there and maybe someone had a drink, but there’s no way in hell his teacher would let him go if he didn’t attempt any of the work.

He pulled the first paper off the stack, it was textbook questions. Shit. Maybe the second paper? More textbook questions. Why did they even have textbooks in this class anyway, it was so outdated. He tried the third one, a ton of questions about fucking Russia.

He groaned and dropped his head onto his desk. It was all so boring and shitty.

He heard a familiar voice to the side of him, “Do you want help?” It was Kyle.

He looked up at him and then looked back down at the papers.

“I got it,” Stan mumbled as he picked up a multiple choice paper and started filling in random bubbles.

“Are you sure?” He felt Kyle lean in a little closer to him, “You just said that women’s suffrage was a great economic depression.”

Shit he did? Ugh. He grabbed his eraser and filled in a different answer.

“Here,” Kyle looked through his papers and picked out a couple, “you were here when we learned these ones.”

“Thanks.” Stan mumbled, eyes glued to his desk.

He hated this. He hated how fucking off everything was with Kyle. He used to be able to just ignore his feelings for Kyle, well for the most part anyway. They used to be able to just talk normally without any of this awkward fucking bullshit. Why did Kyle have to kiss him?

No, no it wasn’t Kyle’s fault. He probably had a reasonable explanation Stan just didn’t want to hear. It was Stan’s fault for avoiding him. It was probably his fault Kyle kissed him too.

Stan heard Kyle shuffling around next to him and finally up at him. Kyle pulled some papers out of his history folder and handed them to Stan.

“These are the notes from what you missed.”

“Thanks.”

Before Kyle walked away he seemingly sniffed the air. The fuck? He looked like he wanted to say something to Stan, ask him something. But instead of asking he just went back to his desk and pulled out his laptop.

God Stan needed a drink.

Chapter 17: Chapter Seventeen

There was no school the following Monday. Stan didn’t know why, probably a holiday he didn’t care about or something.

The weekend felt weird, he didn’t hear a single thing from Kyle. They didn’t hang out, they didn’t even text. Something was off without him there, Stan had gotten so used to his presence. It all felt so mundane when Kyle wasn’t around. Getting drunk helped to quell that mundaneness, but it wasn’t fully gone.

Another part of the general off-ness was also probably because he didn’t go more than 5 minutes a day being sober. He enjoyed being drunk and not having to deal with his shit, but it also felt weird, and not just because of Kyle.

He kind of felt somewhat nostalgic, but it was a bad feeling of nostalgia. All the bad shit that happened a couple years ago was coming back because he was regressing to his old habits. All of his progress was gone now. Then again, he never really made much progress.

What little progress he had made definitely didn’t matter now anyway. Stan had already erased it. Not to mention that he felt so shitty when he was sober or that Randy wasn’t going to stop buying him shit anytime soon. And if it all didn’t matter, if he had no good reason to be sober there wasn’t any reason for him to try and cut back either.

He wasn’t sure if he could even cut back if he wanted to honestly. He probably could. He’d done it before. He probably would. Eventually. When he wanted to.

He got drunk again before school on Tuesday, the feeling was mostly gone by history again. He should start bringing some booze to school too, that way when the alcohol wore off he could just drink more.

His history class got assigned some stupid project. They had to work with partners and do an unnecessarily complicated slide show. 30 slide minimum, extensive knowledge on the topic, blah blah. It was such bullshit, his teacher was acting like it was the fucking final.

Stan normally loved partner and group projects, he didn’t have to do as much work, if he didn’t know what the hell was going on the other people usually did, and if he knew other people’s grades depended on him he’d actually do some work. The problem was he was partnered with Kyle. He always partners with Kyle so the teacher just put them together. They had agreed to work on it out of school Saturday at Kyle’s place and it was going to be so god damn awkward.

The worst part was he couldn’t even drink to help mitigate the awkwardness. Being drunk in school around Kyle was one thing, but being drunk in the same room as Kyle trying to work on a fucking slide show about prohibition was another. He’d be at Kyle’s house, they’d work on it for hours, there was no way in hell he could hide the fact that he was drunk.

There was probably some form of irony to his situation given their project topic but English was never really Stan’s thing. All that analysis shit was more Kyle’s deal. The only reason he was even passing English is because he bullshitted his way through shit like that. It wasn’t the best method but it usually worked.

-

Turns out Stan wasn’t passing English, he had a 42 because of all the assignments he never made up. He was failing all because he forgot to do a couple things, how is that fair? He stared at his grades, he was failing most of his classes now. Ugh he was too sober to think about his grades or his future right now. How much time before he could go to the bathroom and get drunk?

He checked the clock, 5 minutes until English ended and 10 until history started. That was more than enough time to go get hammered in the bathroom.

After what was probably the longest 5 minutes of Stan’s life he made his way to the bathroom. Much to his surprise it was completely empty. It wouldn’t stay that way for long though, it never did during passing periods. He had to be quick.

He ducked into a stall and pulled out the whiskey he had brought. By the time he’d chugged down a quarter of it the bathroom was full of kids. He shoved the bottle back into his bag and started walking to history, thankfully none of the kids noticed the smell. Or if they did none of them were sure enough to mention it.

His history teacher took attendance and Kyle pulled up his chair to Stan’s desk, “So I was thinking we do half the slideshow on the government's role and the political aspects of prohibition and then the other half on the people. Their reactions, speakeasies, the mob, all that stuff.”

What the fuck was Kyle talking about? Weren’t they doing this shit Saturday?

“What?”

Kyle looked at him confused, “What?”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Our project?”

“I know that.”

“Uhm, okay. Which half do you want to do?”

“Half?”

“Our project, Stan, are you feeling okay?”

“Mhm.”

Kyle still had that confused look on his face, “So which half do you want to do?”

Fuck, what were his options again? Something about the mob?

“Uhh, I’ll do the mob part.”

“Aright the people,” Kyle grabbed some papers out of his bag and went to hand them to Stan before his face slightly changed. His be bewildered look transformed into uncertainty, uncertainty into questioning, and then all expression was suddenly gone.

The fuck? What the hell happened? Why was Kyle blankly staring at him?

“Should I start making slides?” What the fuck was going on?

Instead of a response Kyle just kept staring at him, it was like he was looking for a sign of something and it was freaking Stan out.

“I’m just gonna start making slides,” Stan said as he pulled up google slides on his laptop.

As he was adding slides to their presentation he looked back up at Kyle who was still intently staring at him.

“What?”

Kyle picked up his laptop and papers, “Nothing, sorry. I’m going to go work at my desk.”

Kyle just wanted to go work at his desk? That was it?

 

Throughout the rest of the class period Kyle was looking from his laptop, to Stan, and back to his laptop.

Chapter 18: Chapter Eighteen

Notes:

This was definitely my favorite chapter to write.

Saturday, fucking finally. A day where Stan didn’t have to worry about his grades or his goddamn history project. He could just get drunk in peace.

There wasn’t much left from what he got last week, about a fifth of whiskey. He downed it and went to ask Randy for more.

He found Randy passed out on the couch surrounded by beer cans and half a bottle of vodka. Most of the beer was empty, only 2 full cans left. He took the beer and vodka and went back to his room, Randy wouldn’t notice it was gone, he’d probably just assume that he drank it all.

Stan downed the bottle quickly and started listening to music. He drank the beer as he shuffled through various songs on his playlist.

It was nice. Almost peaceful. No thoughts about his relationship with Kyle, about how he was failing his classes, about the darkness that clouded him, he just felt content.

After a few songs his phone buzzed, Kyle had texted him. Why was Kyle texting him now after a week?

He opened the message;

6:39
I’ll be there to pick you up soon, remember your notes and laptop.

What? Kyle’s picking him up? Notes and laptop?

Shit. Shit today was Saturday. They were working on their history project today. Oh fuck. Fuck, how did he forget? Shit he had to get sober. How the hell could he get sober in like 10 minutes?

Stan frantically typed “how to sober up quickly” into his search bar.

He scrolled through the first results - drink water, eat something, exercise, take a shower.

He didn’t have time to take a shower or exercise, he needed water.

He got up and rushed to his kitchen, stumbling over several bottles as he did. He chugged down a glass of water, then another, then another.

Was he sober now? He didn’t feel sober, shit what else was on that list? Eat something. Food he needed to find food.

There wasn’t much in the fridge, nothing he could eat now at least.

He ran into the living room, he tripped over a beer can as he did so. God damn it Randy. Wait, Randy. Randy had been drinking for years. He’d probably know how to get sober quickly.

“Randy, Randy!” Stan shook him, “Get up!”

“The fuck do you want?” Randy murmured.

“How do, do I get sober?”

Randy stared up at him, “What?”

“I need to sober up quickly it’s m’portant.”

“You can’t, not fully. Go to fucking sleep and leave me alone.”

Stan groaned, Randy was no help. He went back to his room. There had to be something he could do. There was no way he couldn’t do anything. If he couldn’t he’d be screwed.

He grabbed his phone, what else was there? Sleep? He didn’t have time to sleep. Shit, shit. It was already 6:47 he didn’t have much time.

Okay, okay. He was drunk and he couldn’t get sober. So his only option was not letting Kyle find out. He could do this. He could do this. He’d been drunk in front of Kyle before, right? He was in history class, and Kyle didn’t say anything. Okay, okay. He just had to act sober. Yeah, yeah he could do that. Just, just be normal. What does a normal person act like?

His mind was racing, he tried to come up with a plan but he couldn’t get anywhere past act normal.

His phone buzzed again, fuck.

6:50
I’m here.

Shit, shit. Alright, okay. There was no need to panic. He could do this, he could do this. He wasn’t drunk around Kyle most of the time so he just had to act like normally would with Kyle. Yeah. Yeah just, just be normal.

He grabbed his backpack and went out the front door, trying his best to keep his balance as he walked to Kyle’s mom’s car.

Stan looked down at the ground as he walked, as long as he looked down he could keep himself in a straight line. Okay, alright this wasn’t going too badly. He could do this. It would be fine.

He opened the car door and sat in the backseat, Kyle was sitting next to him. Shit, why was Kyle in the back? He was usually in the front. He’d be able to tell, no, no Stan shouldn’t say that. He wouldn’t be able to tell. It would be alright. As long as Stan didn’t do anything stupid it would be okay.

“You have your notes and stuff, right?”

Stan looked at Kyle, “What? Oh, oh wait yeah. Yeah I got ‘em.”

The car ride went relatively smoothly. Kyle was glancing up at him every few minutes but it was fine. It was probably nothing. He could do this.

-

They got to Kyle’s house and everything was going good. He had stumbled up the stairs at one point but that was fine. It was only one fuck up. As soon as he got to Kyle’s room he sat down on the bed and pulled out his laptop.

“I uh, I got 5 slides done during school,” Stan said as he pulled up the slideshow, “they’re about the mob. Should, should I like do some more on that or what?”

Kyle was staring down at him from just a few feet away.

Stan looked up at him confused, “I’m gonna take that as a yes.”

“You smell like alcohol.” Kyle spoke sternly.

“What?”

“I said, you smell like alcohol.”

“Oh uh,” Fuck. Fuck this was bad. Kyle noticed the smell. Shit he should have covered it up. Kyle didn’t say anything about his behavior though, that was something. He had to cover himself. “you know Randy.”

“Randy must’ve been drinking a lot today.”

“Yeah I mean he was passed out on the couch. Was s’rounded by beer cans and shit.” Alright, alright. That would work. Blaming Randy usually worked. Now he just had to get done this project.

Stan scrolled through the slides he had already done, he could probably add some more detail to them. It was a little hard to fully make out the words but he’d just fix any mistakes later. As he typed he noticed that Kyle was still standing in front of him, arms crossed, staring down at him.

Stan gave him a confused look, why wasn’t he working on the project? That was the whole reason they were here.

“What are we doing in history right now Stan?”

“Uhh, the project?”

“And what is our project on?” Kyle asked.

“The mob and alcohol and stuff.”

“No, what is the topic called?”

Shit, what was their topic called? He knew it was about alcohol being illegal and that the mob was selling it. He knew this. They’ve been doing this for three days, Stan knew that he knew this.

“Uh, it was like,” he trailed off, what the hell was it?

Kyle leaned in closer to him when the answer popped into his brain.

“Oh fuck it’s pr’bition. Yeah, prohibition.” Stan tried to enunciate the word as best he could, why was it so fucking hard to pronounce?

Just then Stan heard the words he's dreaded to hear from Kyle for an entire year, the words that brought down his entire world.

“Are you fucking drunk?”

Chapter 19: Chapter Nineteen

“What?”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Stan tried to keep his composure. Kyle knew. He just asked him if he was drunk. He had to deny it. He had to keep denying it. He had to convince Kyle he was sober and get out of his house.

“Are you drunk?”

“No?”

Shit, shit this was bad. This was really bad. He put his laptop down and stood up to face Kyle. He really hoped he didn’t look like he’d been caught. He had to cover himself. He had to act confused, like it was a stupid question to even ask, and not like he’d just been caught in a year long lie.

“Then why do you smell like alcohol?” Kyle's voice was a mix of anger and disappointment.

“I told you, it’s, it’s Randy. He’s, he’s always drunk, you know him, you know how he is.”

“Yeah,” Kyle stepped closer towards him as he spoke, “and I also know that you’ve never smelled this strongly of liquor before. You’re fucking drunk.”

“‘M not drunk.”

“Is this why you’ve been acting so weird lately? Is it because you relapsed?” Kyle questioned.

Shit. He was screwed. He was completely fucking screwed. Kyle knew he was drunk. Kyle knew he was a fuck up. Kyle knew that he had failed. Kyle knew everything and now he was going to leave. Stan was going to have nobody.

“I didn’t relapse.”

“I can hear you slurring your words, I know you’re drunk Stan.”

No. He couldn’t let that happen, he couldn’t let Kyle leave. There was still a chance. He could still convince him. He could bullshit his way through this. He just had to get Kyle to believe him, he had to convince him he was sober.

“I am not drunk. I am not drunk, I swear.”

Kyle stepped even closer towards him, his face now inches from Stan’s. Stan watched as Kyle stared at him, stared into his soul, searching for something. He wasn’t sure what Kyle was looking for.

After a few seconds Kyle turned away from him and he let out a shaky breath.

“You’re lying.”

“‘M not. Please, I swear I’m not lying.”

Kyle turned back around and screamed, “You’re fucking lying Stan! You’re drunk and you’re lying to me about it!”

This was it. He couldn’t save this. There was no hope left. This was the moment everything was falling apart. Kyle was all he had and he was about to lose him. Stan wanted to cry, he wanted to break down into tears and sob. He wanted to tell Kyle he was sorry and beg him to stay.

“Why? Why Stan? Was it me? Did I do something? Did I do something to make you drink after an entire fucking year? Huh?” All he could hear in Kyle’s voice now was anger. If there was anything else in his tone it was being masked underneath rage.

Stan also wanted to yell. He wanted to scream that he didn’t break a year sober because he’d never been a year sober. And then he wanted to shout and shout at Kyle to stay.

“Fucking say something!”

Stan looked down, “I didn’t relapse. I didn’t break a year.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it,” Kyle spat out.

“It’s not. ‘M telling you the truth.”

“Stop lying to me.”

Stan looked up at him, “I haven’t been sober for a year Kyle.”

Kyle’s expression went from angry, to confused, to even angrier in a matter of seconds.

“What?” Kyle barked out.

Stan could feel tears starting to well up in his eyes,

“I never stopped drinking.” He stepped closer to Kyle as he pleaded, “‘M sorry, ‘m so sorry. Don’t leave me. Please, don’t, don’t leave me Kyle.”

Kyle held his arm up to block him from coming closer and backed away. “You’ve been lying to me for an entire year?”

Kyle was backing away from him. He was going to leave him. It was over. Everything was over. He couldn’t beg, he couldn’t get Kyle to stay. He was fucked.

Stan felt tears run down his face, this was it. There was officially no hope left, and he had nothing left to lose.

“Yeah, yeah I lied. I fuckin’ lied! I knew this would happen so I lied!” He stumbled closer to Kyle as he screamed, slowly backing Kyle into the corner of his room without realizing it, “I haven’t ever been sober for more than two weeks! But that doesn’t mean you can just fuckin’ leave.”

Kyle lightly placed his hand on Stan’s chest, trying to keep some distance between them, “Back up.”

“Well that’s what you’re gonna do right? Leave? Y’know what leave! Go ahead!”

“Stan, back up.”

He looked at Kyle and realization hit him. Kyle was nervous. Kyle didn’t look angry anymore. He almost looked frightened.

Stan had seen that look before. He had seen that look on himself when Randy was..

“Oh fuck,” Stan trembled as backed away from Kyle, almost tripping over his own feet as he did so. “Shit, shit Kyle ‘m sorry. ‘M really sorry, fuck.”

Kyle took a breath in and looked at him from across the room, “Why?

“I don’t know, I don’t know. ‘M sorry I, I don’t know why I-“

Kyle cut him off, “Why did you keep drinking?”

“Why does anyone keep drinking?” He stared at Kyle with broken eyes. All malice was gone from his voice, the only thing that remained was defeat.

Slowly Kyle walked back towards him, “Why Stan?” He asked, his tone calmer than before.

“Does it even matter?”

“Of course it matters.

He looked down and went to go get his laptop, “I’m just gonna head home.”

“No, no, don't leave.”

“I’ll work on the project there, don't worry.”

Kyle ran to his bed and moved Stan’s laptop to the side, “I don’t care about that right now. Don’t leave.”

“It’s better for both of us if I go.”

“No, it’s not. Tell me why Stan, if you tell me then we can fix this. Together.”

He sighed and sat down on Kyle’s bed, Kyle sat next to him.

“I can’t.”

“Yes, you can. Just tell me.“

Kyle knew now. He knew about the booze, he was pissed off and disappointed and he was going to leave. He knew Stan was just a screw up now. And he had just fucking cornered Kyle in his own room. He’d just fucked up their entire friendship. What more did he have to lose?

“I’m in love with you, that’s why.”

Chapter 20: Chapter Twenty

Notes:

Holy fuck two chapters in one night?

Don’t get too excited it’s insanely short. (200 words)

This probably could have been in the next chapter as a short scene but I want to start that one with a different scene and this scene had to be here for the plot.

Kyle was silent.

Stan didn’t look at him, he just kept staring at the floor. He couldn’t look at Kyle. He couldn’t see the look of disgust, or resentment, or anger, or betrayal on Kyle’s face.

He wanted to go home. He wanted to drink more. He didn’t want to sit here and wait for Kyle to reject him.

“We’ll talk about this when you’re sober,” Kyle spoke up, his voice barely audible.

Stan didn’t look up at him, “Don’t bother, I’m just gonna go home.”

“You’re staying here and we’re going to talk about this when you’re sober.”

“I know you don’t love me back. I’m gonna go home.”

“Stay here and sleep it off.”

He didn’t want to stay here. He didn’t want to wait for Kyle to inevitably reject him.

He felt Kyle’s weight disappear from the bed and he finally looked up at him. His face was completely blank.

“Just go to sleep for me.”

Chapter 21: Chapter Twenty-One

Notes:

Words can not express how long I’ve been waiting to write this chapter, hope y’all love reading it as much as I loved writing it.

Stan woke up the next morning with a headache from hell. His chest hurt, he felt nauseous, and he vaguely remembered what happened last night. Kyle found out he was drunk, then he started crying, and yelling. All the details were fuzzy.

He saw Kyle sitting at the other end of his bed, he was holding his head in his hands.

“The fuck?” He said groggily.

Kyle looked over at him he stood up, walking over to his nightstand.

“Here,” He handed Stan a glass of water and two pills. “I’m guessing you’re hungover. We can talk whenever you’re ready.”

Stan sat up as he took the pills and drank the water. Talk about what? About his drinking? He wasn’t sure exactly what happened or what he said, but didn’t they already talk about this?

He remembered Kyle yelling at him about his drinking and then he started yelling back. What the hell happened after they stopped yelling? Things got quiet and then he fell asleep, was that it?

Kyle probably wanted to have an actual conversation about his drinking. He was probably going to tell Stan they couldn’t be friends.

“Look, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have lied to you and I should’ve just stayed sober, I get it if you don’t want to be around me anymore but we don’t have to have a whole conversation about it.”

“We do. And it’s not just that,” Kyle sat down next to him, “are you ready to talk about this?”

Not just that? What else was there?

“What are you talking about?”

Kyle gave him a confused look, “You don’t remember?”

“Remember what?”

“Fuck.” Kyle sighed. He placed his hand on Stan’s leg, “Stan, you told me you were in love with me.”

What the fuck?

He felt like he couldn’t move, like he couldn’t breathe. He was going to throw up. There was no way he told Kyle that. No, no this couldn’t be happening. It wasn’t possible.

His memories slowly came back to him. He did say that. He told Kyle that, and then, then he tried to leave, but Kyle wouldn’t let him. He could feel his heartbeat in his throat, his eyes started to unfocus, this didn’t feel real. Nothing felt real, it couldn’t be real, he couldn’t have said that.

But he did.

“Stan? Stan?”

Kyle was shaking his leg, he could barley process the movement.

“Are you okay?”

Without thinking he started speaking, “No, no this isn’t happening. I never said that, that didn’t happen.”

“Stan-“

“No, no I didn’t say that. I didn’t mean it. I was drunk, I, I wasn’t clearly thinking, thinking clearly. No. No,” Stan cut him off, attempting to defend himself.

“We need to talk about this.”

“No, no we don’t. It didn’t, it didn’t happen happen. Forget that I said that, because, because I didn’t mean it.”

“Stan look at me.”

Stan could feel tears starting to form in his eyes as he slowly raised his gaze to meet Kyle’s. Instead of seeing disgust or anger he saw compassion. Kyle wasn’t angry at him. Why wasn’t Kyle angry at him?

“Okay, I’m going to start talking. You don’t have to say anything, but please, don’t leave. Just listen.”

He didn’t think he could leave even if he tried, he was frozen in shock.

“I wasn’t sure if you were still drinking until last night. I thought you were when you came to school smelling like alcohol but I wasn’t sure, and so I didn’t say anything and I didn’t think you would break your sobriety.”

“Kyle I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you.”

“Please listen. Anyway when I realized I just got angry. I’m sorry for yelling, I shouldn’t have done that.”

Stan looked down at his lap, “Kyle I-“

“I’m not done.”

He felt Kyle move his hand off of his thigh, he shifted closer and grabbed Stan’s hands.

Stan looked up at him as he continued to speak. “This isn’t good for you, and I know that you know that deep down. Do you remember middle school and last year? You weren’t yourself because you were drinking. I don’t know how bad it’s been recently since you didn’t tell me but I can’t imagine that this is helping your depression.”

“I know that, but Kyle I don’t-“

“I’m still not done.”

“Kyle, please.”

“I love you too.”

Stan felt his eyes widen and his mouth drop involuntarily. What?

“I wanted to tell you last night, but I also wanted to tell you when you were sober.”

Hold the fuck on, Kyle liked guys?

“You’re gay?”

“Yes, I am. I realized in middle school after that girl I dated. I didn’t like her like that, I liked you.”

No. There was no way. Kyle actually loved him back? How? This had been going on since middle school? Kyle had kissed him, but he didn’t think it was because Kyle liked him back. Were there other signs? Was he just an idiot?

“There’s no way,” Stan mumbled.

“Stan I love you. I never said anything, I didn’t think that you felt the same.” Kyle squeezed his hands, “And now that I know you do, I’m telling you that I want to be with you.“

Kyle wanted to be with him. Kyle actually wanted to be with him. He felt like he was in a dream. Kyle loved him. He could actually be with Kyle in a romantic way. In the way he had wanted to for years.

“I want that too.”

“I really, really want this Stan. But, I’m going to be honest because I want this to work out. I can’t be with you if you aren’t sober. I can’t be with you if you’re drinking yourself to death. I can’t be in a relationship with you if I’m constantly worried about you being drunk and dead in a ditch somewhere.”

Randy. Stan’s first thought was of Randy. Of him and his mom, their relationship. Randy’s alcoholism is what caused them to separate. He didn’t want that for him. He didn’t want to be Kyle’s Randy.

But, he also didn’t know if he could stop drinking. He’d tried before, and failed. It was too hard.

“I don’t know if I can get sober Kyle.”

Kyle scooted closer towards him, “What do you mean?”

“I, it’s, I don’t know.” he looked down, “What if I can’t do it? I’ve tried to get sober before and it didn’t work out.”

Kyle didn’t respond to him, he just sat there holding Stan’s hands, waiting for him to say more.

“I want to try, but what if it’s too hard?” He whispered.

“I’ll help you.”

He looked back up at Kyle, he had a slight smile on his face.

Kyle would help him. He could be with Kyle. He just had to try.

Notes:

There will be two more chapters to this fic, mainly so I can add in some relationship fluff, and they will be posted within the next few days.

Chapter 22: Chapter Twenty-Two

Notes:

One chapter to go. I’m definitely going to be writing some more Style stuff with Stan as an alcoholic once this fic is finished.

Two weeks later and Stan still couldn’t believe he was actually dating Kyle. Kyle was his boyfriend. It was almost unfathomable, in a good way.

It was like a dream come to life, all he’d ever wanted was right in front of him, it was real. There was no more hating himself for loving Kyle, no more late nights crying, no more wishing his love away. He didn’t have to do that anymore because it was real.

Not much had changed between them, other than the label. Everything was the same, except it all felt different. A new context to their relationship even though their actions were the same. Stan loved the way nothing had changed and longed for more at the same time. It was an unfamiliar feeling to say the least, but he was content with it.

-

Stan walked down the road from his bus stop to the farm, staring up at the the sky as he did so. Kyle was most likely at home, studying for his drivers test. His birthday was only 9 days away and Stan still had no clue what to get him. He probably should’ve started thinking about it earlier, but with everything that’s happened recently he couldn’t find the time.

He usually got Kyle money or games for his x-box but he wanted to get him something more personal this year. Maybe a book he wanted, Kyle liked reading. Though, Stan didn’t know what he liked to read.

As Stan neared the farm house he could hear Randy stumbling around well music played.

He headed straight towards his room, he could research different types of books, but that would take a while. He could try going back through his and Kyle’s texts, see if Kyle ever mentioned something about a book he was reading or wanted to read.

“Stan,” Randy called to him before he could open his door.

“What, Randy?”

“I left you a bottle in there, figured you ran out.”

What? He opened the door and walked into his room. Sitting in the middle of his floor was a bottle of vodka.

He dropped his bag by the door and walked over to it. He picked it up and stared at it.

Fuck.

He was 14 days sober today. Intentionally sober. Only 9 days away from breaking his last record. He hadn’t even felt the need to drink, a part of him still wanted to, but he was too focused on other things to bother indulging or thinking about it. Not to mention he felt so much better, so much happier since he’d stopped.

And then there was Kyle. There was always Kyle. He was with Kyle, he finally had what he wanted for years. And all he had to do to keep that was not drink.

Stan sat down on his bed, still clutching the bottle. He gently shook it, watching the liquor flow from one side to another, enticing him.

Kyle would never know. Kyle hadn’t known for almost a year, he could just not tell him. Kyle was at his house, they hadn’t planned to hang out today, how would he know? Besides, it would just be one drink. One last drink and then he’d stop. It had been two weeks since he last drank. That wasn’t even really a relapse.

Except it was.

Stan knew that it was. He couldn’t ignore the fact that it was a relapse anymore. If he drank this it would be a relapse. It would count.

He stopped swaying the bottle and simply stared at the label. Why did he even want to drink? Why now? Just because a bottle was right there that part of him came back? He didn’t have any problems right now, he had nothing to run from, nothing he wanted to avoid. And yet, there was a voice in the back of his mind telling him to throw away everything for just one more time.

He should call Kyle.

It was the right thing to do. He couldn’t be trusted alone with his thoughts, because he would do it. He would drink it even though he really, really didn’t want to.

He put the bottle down, grabbed his phone and pulled up Kyle’s contact. It only rang for a second before Kyle picked up.

“Hey Stan, what’s up?”

“I,” he paused for a second before continuing, he could back out. Now was his chance to back out. No. No, not this time. “Can you come pick me up? Like right now?”

“Are you alright, did something happen?”

Stan looked over at the bottle as he spoke,

“Randy uhm, fuck. Randy left a bottle of vodka in my room and I don’t think-“ he cut himself off, “I know I shouldn’t be alone with it.”

“I’ll be there soon, just hold on.”

-

He got to Kyle’s house and went to go sit down on his bed, there were various drivers ed papers lying there in neat stacks.

Kyle grabbed them and moved them over to his desk, “Sorry, I was studying. You can sit.”

“It’s fine.”

Kyle sat next to him, “So, Randy just left a bottle of vodka in your room? Did he forget it there or something?”

Stan sighed, “No, he bought it for me. Pretty sure he noticed I hadn’t asked him for shit in a while and just left it there as like a gift or something.”

“Hold on, Randy’s been the one getting you alcohol?”

“Usually yeah, sometimes I took it from him but usually he got it for me.”

“Fuck.”

Stan half heartedly chuckled and ran his hand through his hair, “Yeah. Hey, you can go back to studying if you want, I don’t want to like distract you or whatever, I just like, thought it would be better if I was here and not by myself.”

“I’ve already read over all the stuff for my test like 5 times, I know it inside and out. I’m going to stay here with you.” Kyle laid his head on Stan’s shoulder as he spoke.

Stan moved his arm around Kyle’s back and started playing with Kyle’s curls, “Thank you.”

Chapter 23: Chapter Twenty-Three

Notes:

<3

Today was Kyle’s birthday. It was also Stan’s 23rd day sober, his longest streak ever. He’d tell Kyle about it later, today was about Kyle.

Around 2pm he got a text from Kyle,

2:13
I’m here

He threw on the first shirt he could find, grabbed his backpack, and made his way to Kyle’s mom’s car.

“Where’s your mom?” Stan asked as he got into the front seat.

“At home getting stuff ready for my party, besides she doesn’t need to be here, I got my license.” Kyle pulled his license out of his pocket and beamed as he showed it to Stan.

“Of course you did, you’ve been practicing your ass off for weeks.”

Kyle put his license back in his pocket and started driving, “You ever going to get your license?”

“Why would I get my license when you can just drive me everywhere?”

“I doubt I’ll have the time, I’m probably going to end up driving Ike everywhere until I graduate.”

“Bet your mom likes that.”

“Yeah, I don’t mind too much though, I’m just happy to finally be driving.”

Stan went to put his backpack in the backseat before he remembered, Kyle’s present. He’d gone through his texts with Kyle and saw Kyle had mentioned something about a fantasy book he was reading, so he went to the bookstore and picked out something from the fantasy section.

“Oh shit, I just remembered,” Stan rummaged through his backpack and pulled out the present he got for Kyle, “I got you this, it’s a fantasy book. I’m not really sure what the plot is but the cover art looked cool.”

Kyle glanced over at him, a confused look washed over his face as he stared at something.

Was there something wrong with the present? Kyle liked reading and he liked fantasy, had he already read it?

“Is something wrong?”

Kyle looked to the road and then back at Stan “No, the books very thoughtful. It’s just, is that my shirt?”

Stan looked down at what he was wearing. Shit, this was Kyle’s shirt. He didn’t even realize he’d put it on.

“Uh, yeah, sorry. I kind of accidentally stole it and then never gave it back.”

“Keep it,” Kyle looked back at the road, “it looks good on you.”

-

Kyle’s party was relatively simple. It was just his family and Stan. Kenny stopped by at one point to tell Kyle happy birthday but he didn’t stay long.

Stan was helping Kyle with the dishes after dinner when Kyle’s mom walked in.

“Kyle it’s almost 6, when are you two leaving? I don’t want you out driving late at night.”

Kyle shut off the sink and turned towards him, “You still want to go on that road trip?”

-

Stan got into the passenger seat of the car, “Is this like, a date?”

“Do you want it to be?”

More than anything.

“Yeah.”

“Then yes,” Kyle said as he backed out of his driveway, “It’s a date.”

A few minutes into the drive Kyle grabbed a black chord from the glovebox and handed it to Stan.

“You don’t want the aux?”

“I can’t really play anything while I’m driving, besides you have good music taste.”

Stan hit shuffle on one of his feel good playlists and music sounded through the speakers.

Around 30 minutes later Kyle asked him to look up the nearest gas station. Stan found a place just up the road and Kyle pulled in.

“You want any snacks?”

“I’m good.”

Kyle went out to fill up the tank, shortly after they were back on the road.

A couple songs went by before Kyle’s phone started buzzing.

“Can you check that for me? It might be my mom.”

“Yeah, what’s your password?”

“1 0 1 9.”

Those numbers seemed familiar. 1 0 1 9. Why did those numbers seem so familiar? 1019? 10 19? Wait, 10 19. October 19th. That was Stan’s birthday.

“Your password is 10 19?” Stan asked as he opened Kyle’s phone.

Kyle didn’t reply, Stan saw his cheeks grow slightly red out of the corner of his eye.

“It’s Cartman, he just said ‘fuck you kyle.’”

“Don’t say anything back, he texts me that like once a week.”

“He’s probably just mad you got cake today and he didn’t.”

Kyle laughed, “That’s probably something he’d be pissed about.”

“I really like you laugh,” Kyle looked over at him, “it’s beautiful.”

Instead of responding Kyle pulled onto a bare patch of land just off the side of the highway. He put the car into park and turned to face Stan.

Kyle leaned over and cupped the side of his face in his hand, “Can I kiss you?”

Stan held his breath instinctively and a voice barely above a whisper replied, “Yes.”

Soon Kyle’s lips were on his, and this time they didn’t immediately leave. Stan moved his hand to hold Kyle’s face and Kyle’s hand went from holding his face to running through his hair. Stan opened his mouth slightly and Kyle reciprocated, the kiss turned from simple to passionate in seconds.

When they were both out of breath their lips parted.

“I love you Stan.”

“I love you too Kyle.”