Nice Guy {Kyle Broflovski x Reader}

Part 13

The heavy breaths that cover your neck threw you off while you tried to focus.

A blush heated your face while you sat next to Kyle.

You sat in the middle of the back seat with Kyle on your left. Wendy was driving with Stan in the passenger while she followed the road to your house.

Kyle had his head buried in your neck while he was slouched over you. He was more so on you than his seat.

"I can't believe he is this wasted," Stan laughed.

You gave him a mock smile while you tried to roll Kyle's head away from your ear, "He's lucky I'm letting him stay at mine."

"Yeah," Stan spoke, his body now hunched over the center console to look at you, "He would definitely be caught if he had to go back home."

"Is this his first time drunk?" You ask.

"Nah, he just doesn't drink often or much, so this is still new for him."

You looked down at Kyle's sleepy figure. He was completely out of it. He told you he wanted to get fucked up but maybe you should of stopped him after his 5th shot.

"This house, right?" Wendy asked. You nodded in reply. The two turned to look at you while you struggled to get out of the car. "Need help?"

You finally got out the right side and looked back and shook your head no. You opened the door and hopped out of the truck to quickly unlock your house as well. When you got back, you went to Kyle's side to see the door already open and Kyle's body hanging onto Stan.

"I didn't need help," you state, confused. Stan's mood clearly went sour as he had a hard frown on his face. He didn't even reply as he dragged Kyle inside. You followed him towards the couch as he laid down Kyle. "You alright?"

"Wendy just bitched at me so not really. I'm leaving, call me if he's going to die."

With that, he left and harshly shut the door on the way out. The noise made you jerk back and also made Kyle snap back into awareness.

"Where am I?" he groaned.

You walked in front of him briefly, wanting him to connect the dots of something, "My house, your fucked up."

He chuckled, "Yeah I am."

Walking past him, you made yourself comfy on the other side of the couch, "Tired? Do you need anything?"

"Mh, not really," Kyle laughed out. Clearly, he was a giggling drunk. He flops over to your side, his head landing on your lap and his body awkwardly on the couch. Without much of a thought, he made himself comfortable and left his head on your thigh. After moving around, he smiled up at you, "Hi."

"Hi," you laugh back. You were a little thrown off by the sudden closeness from him, but you welcomed it nonetheless. Your legs thrown on the coffee table while Kyle stared at your face from his view on your lap. Hands laid in his hair and on his shoulder, not knowing anywhere else appropriate to put them.

"You're really pretty," he smiles. His cheeks flush from alcohol and yours flushed from the sudden compliment. His smile was lopey but genuine. It made your heart wrench in wanting. Wanting of a relationship easy enough for this. The pure amazement love set onto people.

"Thanks, bud."

"You know, I remember the night you called me drunk."

"Oh yeah," you smiled.

"Yeah, you said we should date each other since we know each other so well."

You laughed out, "I did not!"

"You did too!"

"Oh my god! We barely know each other. We just have some stuff in common," you groan, embarrassed of your previous words.

"Well, I think about it a lot. It makes it easier to be around you since I know we share the same point of view."

His face was lost in thought. The furrow in his brow made you want to soothe away all his worries. You hummed to let him continue, too lost of the softness of his expression, all but his eyebrows.

"I know you get angry with my wording but I think that just proves how similar we are, both blunt to a fault and can't take being told the same," he paused, "to an extent."

You completely agreed. While he said hurtful things, it was never a direct insult, just the truth in jumbled words. "I suppose. We don't make it necessarily easy to be close to us, so we don't let each other in."

"We're scared of ourselves," Kyle blurted.

"In a sense," you laugh.

"I'm not scared of you, though," Kyle unforrowed his eyebrows and looked at you. Really looked at you. "I could never be scared of you."

The softness and his expression and his words melted your heart. The hopeless romantic in you was screaming. Here was an attractive man, laying in your lap, saying he would never be scared of you. Words were lost. You two just stared at each other. Nothing needed to be said.

You couldn't think of anything to say. There is nothing to say towards that comment, and there is nothing to say to change topics. You bussied your focus and your hand on his hair. With the new massage, Kyle finally broke eyecontact and closed his eyes.

Relief filled you once he looked away. His words got to you, and you couldn't handle the emotion he was making you have. He always stirred you up, and you never knew what to do.

Right now, you knew that you were content doing what you were doing. You would do anything to have him this relaxed on you again. He seemed truly safe and happy. A soft smile covering his face and a slight hum leaving his lips.

He may be drunk, but drunk words are sober thoughts.

The idea of him being okay with you, truly okay with you, made you feel okay, truly okay.