South Park Smut And Such

Stan x Kyle: Babe

(Possible TW: Cussing, alcohol and drug use.)
_________________________________________

Stan had gotten himself drunk again, a little too drunk for his best friend's liking. The ginger became increasingly worried as he received snaps from the drunken boy, acting a fool and slurring his words.

Stan was drinking another Blue Ribbon, discarding the can to the floor. He was barely aware of Kyle as he swung Stan's bedroom door open. It wasn't until Kyle had set his hand on Stan's shoulder that he had finally taken notice of the other. He smiles, intoxicating written all over his face. "Kyle, heyyyyy."

Kyle sighs, his worry diminishing a bit. He rolls his eyes, taking the half full can from his friend. "Hey dude, I think that's enough." There's at least twelve empty cans on the ground. "Drink with me man, just one." The sentence had been unexpectedly clear, as if he weren't drunk at all. "...Stan...i-"

Stan's face softens, "Pleeeeease kyle?" Kyle simply nods, drinking it quickly. He wasn't a fan of Blue Ribbon. Stan nods approvingly, leaning against the red head's shoulder. His vision was probably spinning like crazy right now.

Kyle's point of view

I wish he's tell me why he drinks so much. I mean, he started drinking at a very young age, so he's probably just addicted. But...I wish he wouldn't. I wish he'd just stop. He's tearing his life apart. The more he drinks, the worse his life becomes. Maybe he inherited it from Randy, I don't know.

I pull myself out of my thoughts, only to notice him staring at me with those drunkenly hazy eyes. I could get lost in those eyes, the ones I adore. Ice blue, when he's sober. I could drown in those eyes. "Kyyyyyle?" I feel my face turn pink and clear my throat, "Yes?" "I dont...fe-" my lap is suddenly covered in vomit, and I immediately jump up.

"AWE, SICK, DUDE!" He's too far gone to even be embarrassed, giggling softly to himself. I sigh, entirely disgusted, and unbundled my belt. This catches his attention, and he rolls onto his stomach on the bed, watching me. "Dude, what are are doing?" I question him. He doesn't reply. His hands are supporting his head, and he just continues to stare.

I roll my eyes. He won't remember anything anyway, he's shit faced. I turn away from him, tugging off the vomit soaked jeans with an irritated groan. "Stan, I need a pair of boxers." Mt tone is frustrated as I feel utterly repulsed by the puke. Stan's arms wrap around me from behind, and he presents me a pair of boxers. I blush hard, "D-dude, get off. This is gay." Stan simply hugs me closer from behind.

"Kyyyllllllllle." I gently get him off, laying him down o to his bed and rushing into the bathroom to shower. How do I always get stuck like this? I sigh, turning on the faucet after undressing and stepping into the tub. The water is warm, and it's a decent pressure too. I begin to clean myself, scrubbing away the vomit smell.

I use Stan's body wash, and then figure I may as well wash my hair, too. So this is why he smells good, he uses good shit. I don't hear the door open over the sound of the water, and continue to wash myself slowly, making sure to really clean my thighs. I hate germs. Suddenly I hear a commotion, and blush madly when I see Stan.

"How long have you been in here!?" I cover my privates, pulling the curtain back to hide my figure. I hear a few sounds, as if something soft was being dropped to the floor. Before I can react, Stan in naked in the shower beside me, running his fingers through his hair while the water drops onto is and rolls down his shoulders.