Nice Guy {Kyle Broflovski x Reader}

Part 12

Watching Kyle down several shots in a row was one thing.

It was another to see him stumbling around afterward.

You steadied him for the 7th time in the past 30 minutes, "Are you good?"

"Yeah, just stepped on my shoelace," he mumbled. Shooting him an unbelieving look before you backed off and looked around the room.

After pulling him from the kitchen, you guys finally stood in the room where the party was really happening. Tolkien had set up a DJ booth and was letting the music shake the house. You could feel each beat in your heart from how loud it was. The entire center of the room was crowded with people jumping to the music. A smile crossed your face when you saw Stan and Wendy jumping as well. They were adorable together.

Kyle and you stood against the wall, simply enjoying the music and the energy of the room. He held his red solo cup in both hands, afraid to drop it yet again, as he nodded his head to the music.

You watched him for a moment as he seemed to be taking everything in. Once he was finished looking around, he took a long drink from his cup. His cup was full of straight Jack. He was holding up to his earlier statement. While you cringed at the idea of drinking plain Jack. You'll be avoiding it for a bit.

"I don't know how you do this so often," his voice pulled your attention away from his cup and onto his face. It was all scrunched up in distaste, which made you laugh. "Seriously, it tastes horrible."

"I normally have a chaser after."

"Ah, so that's the secret," he said as he swirled his cup around. You hummed in response. "You doing okay?"

"You're asking me?" You laughed, "I'm not the one drunk."

"Yeah, but that guy was aggressive earlier," he mumbled.

"I would have kicked his ass," you brushed off, "I might have looked defenseless, but if you weren't there, I would have handled it fine."

"I guess you did always have that random strength behind you."

You smiled proudly at that. It was always reassuring to know people knew you were strong enough to defend yourself.

"I woulda kicked his ass if I wasn't worried about you," he grumbled.

"Worried? I was fine," you frown, "I'm not some defenseless weak woman."

"There you go taking this the wrong way."

You glared at him but decided to stay silent as you watched him down the rest of his drink.

"It's not that you're weak. it's that I don't want to see you get hurt. I worry about you cause you're my friend," he pauses, "or friends with my friends."

That last sentence sucked all the sweetness from the conversation. You glared at him bitterly. Biting the inside of your cheek, you deemed this to be a good time to end the conversation before you made it worse.

"Imma fill my cup up," he announced before he started walking away. As much as you didn't want to be near him, you made a promise to stay by him.

So you followed him to the kitchen and waited by the door as he filled up his cup again. It was clear he had no idea you were around him or even upset. He was just mumbling to himself as he put away the bottle and grabbed his cup to leave.

You followed him back to where you were before and watched as he confusedly looked around for you.

"Y/n!" Kenny yelled out to you. You watched as Kyle spun around and looked at you. With how quick Kyle spun around, both you and Kemmy had to make sure he didn't fall. "Damn, how fucked up is he?"

"He's had like 5-9 shots in total, nothing crazy," you state. You've been at the party for about two hours and he was steady. He had a good tolerance, but you watched to make sure you didn't need to cut him off.

Kenny laughed as he spoke again, "Looks like I might need to catch up. Are you drinking at all?"

"Nah, some guy was strange, so I'd rather have myself put together."

His frowned at you in concern before you gave him a gesture to forget about it. "Well, I'm going to go grab more. Keep an eye on him."

With that, he squeezed out and into the hallway towards the kitchen. You pulled out your phone to see if you got any notifications before you felt something land on your shoulder. Looking over, you saw Kyle's mess of curls. His green hat balled in his hand, and his cup nowhere to be seen.

"I don't feel like standing," he spoke into your shoulder.

"You better not puke on me Broflovski."

He shook his head, "My legs, they're not working."

With that, he left himself somewhat fall into your back, making you support most of his body weight.

Turning your head opposite of the shoulder he rested on, you saw his empty cup. He downed the rest of it while you were talking with Kenny. You looked around the room before making eyecontact with Stan, with the brief look you started signaling for him to come over. You watched him chat with Wendy for a moment before they both started walking over.

"What's up?"

You gave Stan a confused look before pointing at the mess of curls on your shoulder, "Kyle's fucked up."

Stan seemed to finally understand as he looked back and forth between you two, "Shit, he said he wasn't going to drink much. His mom is going to be pissed." He panicked as he started running his hands through his hair, "Sheila is going to kill me."

"What? Why?"

Wendy was soothing Stan's shoulder before she looked at you, "She said she didn't want Kyle to be drinking. At all. Especially since he's friends with Stan. She thinks he's a bad influence."

"Fuck what are we going to do?" Stan asked, his face full of worry. It seemed his panic was worse, especially since he was drunk as well. He always felt his emotions ten times stronger than normal while drunk.

"Can't he just stay at yours?"

His face lit up, like you had an idea he never could have thought of himself, "Yes! Yes, he could!"

"Stan," Wendy called for his attention, "Your dad told you he wanted the house to himself tonight, remember?"

His face fell, "Oh yeah."

So Kyle was really fucked. He couldn't go home. He couldn't stay with Stan. Cartman would never let him stay at his, and Kenny would be in trouble if his friend showed up drunk at his house.

"Wendy could he-"

"Absolutely not, I'm already pushing it with you coming over," she cut him off, not even allowing him to finish his sentence.

"He'll just stay at mine," you offered, "he's taken care of me drunk before. It's the least I could do."

Stan smiled widely, "That works! Thank you!"

A groan in your ear caught your attention as you turned to acknowledge the red head on your shoulder, "I'm tired."

The three of you laughed at him, which only seemed to make him upset as he started rambling off. He mainly told you guys to fuck off.

Your laughter was cut dry when you felt his hands wrap around your waist and pull you closer. With your face heating up and your throat dry, you spoke, "We should get him home."

"Oh yeah, of course, I was getting bored anyways," Wendy smiled.