♡~Style/Stan x Kyle||We'll get through this together~♡

Chapter 14

Kyle's eyes opened, a little yawn escaping his lips as he looked at the window, the darkness outside giving him a small inclination to the time it was. He rubbed his eyes, and it took him a few seconds to realize he was being held, tightly.

He looked up, Stan's face insanely close, making him flush. It was funny how flustered being this close to Stan made him considering the fact that a few hours prior they'd been all over each other—it almost made him wanna laugh.

He smiled gently, bringing his hand up to rest along Stan's cheek, the other boy stirring a little. Kyle didn't pull his hand back, instead just softly caressed his best friend—boyfriend?'s cheek. What were they now? He doesn't just casually make out with people and he knows Stan isn't the type of person to do that either, and they'd both admitted to liking one another.

So, what was this?

As if on cue, Stan's eyes popped open, the sleepiness in his eyes kind of adorable. "Are y'okay?" He mumbled out, making Kyle giggle.

"Yeah, I'm okay." He whispered back adoringly, still moving his thumb back and forth on Stan's cheek. Stan smiled, leaning into the touch and moving closer to him on the pillows.

"Have you been awake for a while?" He asked more coherently this time, his sleepy voice annoyingly attractive to Kyle. There was something about Stan's sleepy/morning voice that made his insides stir, and he flushed anew, resting his forehead against Stan's.

"Yeah, I just randomly woke up."

He felt Stan's arm snake around his waist, and he pulled him flush to his body. "Why didn't you wake me?"

Kyle was growing more and more red, and he sighed to himself, trying to keep his thoughts in check. "I kinda did—accidentally." He quietly chuckled.

Stan grinned. "Well I'm glad, wouldn't want you up on your own now would I?"

Kyle grinned back. "I probably would've just fallen right back to sleep." He replied, moving his arm to wrap around Stan's neck.

"Hm," Stan simply hummed out, moving forward and pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. Kyle moved forward, deepening it just slightly before they both pulled back.

"You love kissing me, don't you?" Kyle laughed out affectionately.

"Well, yeah, of course I do. I've liked you for god knows how long and now I finally get to hold you and kiss you the way I've wanted to for years. Who'd pass up on that opportunity?"

Kyle's face and body got so hot he had to sit up, pushing the bedsheets away from him as he tilted his head back, sucking in the fresh air. Stan followed the movement, joining him to rest his back on the headboard. "Even when—" he hesitated, biting his lip. "Even when we were fighting? When we wouldn't talk to each other?"

Stan stilled for a moment before sighing, sliding over so his arm was flush against Kyle's. "For a while I tried to convince myself I hated you, and not because I wanted to hate you, it's because I thought you hated me. I thought you'd gotten sick of me and that's why you left."

Kyle looped his arm with Stan's, leaning against him. "That wasn't it at all. I left because I got overwhelmed—I didn't know how to help you and I was scared and so fucking stressed. Seeing you like that was tearing me apart and I knew for my own good I had to let you go," he sucked in a sharp breath, the pain and reminder of that whole time hitting him like a truck.

"I know," Stan said softly, "you're not my therapist and you never were. You were dealing with more than you had to, so was I. We were both dealing with a lot and I'm glad you got away for a little while, because I know it took a toll on your mental health too which is something I never wanted. You were never supposed to be my therapist, you were just supposed to be my friend, my best friend and at some point it went unhealthily beyond that. And I'm so sorry."

Kyle turned to him, fighting back the tears. "It's okay. I know you weren't intending for that, I know you were just scared and wanted help, and I guess I thought maybe if I left you'd realize how bad things really were and that it could push you to go and get help."

"And you were right. As always," he grinned, their conversation becoming slightly more lighthearted.

"Well, not always... but thank you." He said quietly, resting his head down on Stan's shoulder. "I'm really proud of you, y'know."

Stan shifted to rest his head down on top of Kyle's. "You are?"

"God, yeah. I know how hard it is to ask for help, to get help. But you did it—despite everything you did it. And for that I'm so fucking proud. You've made so much progress and I'm glad I'm right back here with you for the journey, all the good and bad parts. It's cheesy but we belong together—well, I think we do."

Stan smiled, kissing the top of Kyle's head. "Yeah, we do." He whispered.

Was this the right time to ask? Kyle bit his lip, the nerves in his chest spiking.

"Actually, I—" he halted, sucking in a nervous breath. What if Stan said they were just friends? Friends who kiss sometimes? Oh god, he'd be mortified.

He felt Stan move, and he buried his head deeper into his shoulder. "Hey, it's okay, you can tell me." Stan gently whispered, linking their hands together, squeezing in an offer of comfort.

Kyle laughed nervously, lifting his head up to look at him. There was silent understanding on Stan's features, and he knew in that moment he wasn't pressured, he knew by the look in his eyes that he didn't have to tell him if he really didn't want to, but if he did he was there to listen, no matter how long it took for him to say it, which he was so so grateful for.

He slowly breathed out, moving to face him more. "I just—" another deep breath in, until finally, "what are we?"

Stan was silent for a few seconds, and for a moment Kyle thought he was going to dismiss the question, and out of pure nerves, he screwed his eyes shut, lowering his head. He was scared for the answer—did he want the answer? Yes. No. Maybe. Damn it!

The silence ticked on, and he was afraid the only sound they could hear was the intense drumming of his heart, pushing so hard against his ribcage it was almost painful.

After a few more seconds of silence and broken eye contact, he felt Stan's index finger and thumb gently pull his chin up, and once again their eyes met. Ocean blue to electric green.

Before he even realized it, Stan was moving in, softly connecting their mouths. Kyle gasped in a little breath, and he pressed in closer. Stan pulled back for a moment, moving to kiss his forehead, his cheeks and his nose which made Kyle giggle.

"I don't just do this with anyone, y'know," Stan whispered, resting their foreheads together. "I really like you."

Kyle's heart thumped.

"I like you too."

Stan smiled. "I don't want us to be friends with benefits, or friends that just kiss sometimes."

Oh, thank fucking god.

"Me neither," was all he could say back, the ocean blue's that were Stan's eyes pulling him in, and he welcomed it, he wanted to be submerged in them.

"Do you want to be my boyfriend? Or is that too weird?" He laughed out.

Kyle beamed, his heart racing in the best way. He leaned up, wrapping both of his arms tightly around Stan's neck, this time him being the one to initiate their kiss.

"It's not weird at all. In fact, I like it... I like you, and I would love to be your boyfriend."

"Well that's a relief," Stan began to ramble, "imagine if you said you didn't want to be my—" Kyle rolled his eyes with a laugh, cutting him off with another kiss.

"Shut up." He mumbled against his lips, and Stan giggled.

"Got it."