#kylebroflovskific

[alovelyfox]

Chapter 12: Maria, Mariaa

🔞

The neon colored ‘closed’ sign blares in Kyle’s face, reminding him of his failure as he stands defeated in front of the empty flower shop. He came about an hour after the time Maria said she’d hold his bouquet until, yet spies them sitting on the cashiers desk, tied up with a beautiful baby blue ribbon he’s sure she handpicked out herself to compliment the white petals.

She’d been so caring when he met her yesterday, able to help with Kyle’s indecisiveness on what to get his mom. And now he’d disappointed her, seemingly not even showing up when she’d taken the time to come up with something she knew he’d love. He bangs his fist against the glass, taking his frustration out on the door. The sudden act surprises a figure he hadn’t seen tucked under the desk, who now jumps up and meets his eyes. Maria.

His face turns from helplessness to joy as he realizes he’s not too late, but she retains a cool façade as she comes to the door.

“You’re late,” she says, pointing out the obvious, yet her words still piercing through his heart even though they were separated by the glass door. “I don’t appreciate tardiness in customers.”

“I know, and I’m so sorry Maria. I’m a sucker for punctuality as well, but I got sidetracked at work and only remembered you were waiting for me here. I never meant to stand you up or anything, I swear. I’m not that kind of guy.”

She stares at him for a moment, then sighs. Her gaze towards him softens as she unlocks the door and lets him in. He nods an grateful thanks, then makes his way to the desk and almost grabs the flowers before her voice interrupts him.

“If you’re really sorry about coming in late, then you’ll give me a proper apology,” she exclaims, as he turns around and gives her a confused look. He assumed what he just said was apology enough, but if she wants more, that’s what he’ll give her. Slowly, he gets down onto his knees, thinking about leaving if not just to save his last shreds of dignity. But it’s safe to assume those left when he had to act as Cartman’s personal slave to stop him from disrupting peace in the Middle East, so he opens his mouth to let the regrets over not coming earlier tumble out. But she looks him up and down, then bursts out laughing before he can say anything.

“Oh my god Kyle, I just meant taking me out to dinner or something, what the fuck are you doing?”

Relief washes over him, even if there is a slight suspicion creeping up as well. Why would a girl like her want to be taken out by a guy like him? He wasn’t used to women being so forward with their pursuits of him, if they even consider him worth the time of day. But one dinner seems like a simple request, so he gets back on his feet, then takes the bouquet sitting behind him.

“Is tonight alright? My little brother’s coming into town tomorrow, and I want to get the flowers back home before then.”

A cheeky smile appears on her face, as she opens the door for him.

“Lead the way.”

…

The restaurant Kyle chose was one close by, a little more intimate than he’d like, but Maria didn’t seem to notice. They settle in one of the smaller tables in the corner, forced to sit so close their knees are pressed together in a slightly uncomfortable fashion. He wonders if this dinner is meant to be romantic or not, but the first conversation between the two dismisses any doubt he has.

“So Maria, why were you still in the flower shop almost an hour after closing time?”

“Hmm,” she says, twirling some pasta on her fork as she deliberates on an answer. “I guess I was just waiting for a tall, curly haired red-head to walk in and save my dinner plans with a date so I wouldn’t be forced to sit alone in my apartment watching Friends reruns and eating cold lasagna.”

He laughs softly as his face blushes red at her description of him. “Happy to be of service.”

“You know, I’ve been so busy with the shops that I actually haven’t been taken out like this in months,” she exclaims, finishing her food and pushing the plate away from her.

“I’ve been busy with work recently too, but even before that I never went out for dinner with someone like this,” he replies.

“Huh, and seemingly something makes you think I regularly do?” She questions, and he accidentally says the first thought in his head.

“C’mon, what guy is gonna pass up the opportunity to take out a girl like you?”

She blushes and bites her lip, before standing up and excusing herself to go to the bathroom, while Kyle’s left embarrassed.

However, her departure gives him time to think. Or more accurately, think about how much he hasn’t been thinking about Y/N. This is the first time in weeks that his mind hasn’t been occupied with the thought of her glowing presence. And considering what happened yesterday… Fuck, did she know how much she turned him on? She hadn’t even done anything sexual, but her body being that close to his was all it took. While he had been able to brush it off this morning, how long until he does something he regrets and ruins everything they have?

Getting her out of his head seemed a near impossible task, but Maria was the one who made it happen. So when she comes out of the bathroom and asks Kyle if he wants to come back to her place, he immediately accepts, desperate for a night without Y/N in his thoughts.

…

The car fills with a casual silence as Kyle drives them back to her place. Maria seems to be content with staring out the window, which he finds favorable as it gives him more time to mull over the possible repercussions as to what they’re probably about to do.

It had been a while since Kyle’d had sex. More than a while. Like years. And it was evident that the… buildup was affecting his actions, especially towards Y/N. Asking her to grind on him in the kitchen, how just her legs over his lap sent him spiraling… He needed confirmation that he was just feeling horny, not wanting to accept the alternative.

He stops at a red light and glances over at Maria, who’s still turned towards the window. She’s an extremely attractive woman, but she and Y/N couldn’t look any more different. Maria is beautiful, but Kyle doesn’t find himself quite enamored with her the way he does with Y/N. But his cock is saying something different, so he decides to only sleep with her, not to let things go too far.

A one-night stand might just be what I need right now , he thinks as he arrives at her apartment.

They walk up, but just before she opens the door she turns around to face him.

“Hey, just so you know, I’m not looking for anything serious right now. I just want something casual, so if that upsets you-” she says, but Kyle interrupts her with a kiss as relief floods his mind.

Maria leans into him as he uses his tongue to part her lips and dip his own inside. Scrambling for her keys, she unlocks the door, never breaking contact with his mouth. They stumble into the bedroom, breaking apart to remove their clothes before she pushes him lightly onto the bed.

Kyle would normally set aside the first couple minutes of sex for foreplay, but Maria seems like she just wants to fuck already.

“You’re clean, right?” she asks, crawling towards him on the bed, forcing him back until his back hits the headboard.

“I haven’t had sex in over a year, so I really fucking hope so,” he replies, and she laughs, then grabs a condom from the bedside table and straddles his thighs while putting it on.

“Me too, but you know. Just in case,” she insists, and is about to slip herself inside him when he asks to pause, realizing he’s not fully hard yet.

Fuck , he thinks. His entire body was ready for her in the car, yet when it actually matters… But he wasn’t thinking of her in the car, was he?

“Hey, are you okay?” She asks, and he looks away embarrassed.

“Do you mind, uhm, like, pushing your boobs together or something? Sorry, I just don’t think I’m ready yet.”

She smiles graciously and does what he asks, while he tries to avoid eye-contact with her. He knows exactly what he has to do, and even though it goes against the entire point of sleeping with Maria, he thinks of Y/N. And the worst part is, it works.

Luckily, the implications of what that means and the regret over doing it gets pushed out of his brain as she inserts him into her pussy, and starts riding. They start off slow, but the warmth of someone around him that he hadn’t felt in a long time makes him let out a soft groan. Speeding up, she moves like she knows exactly what he needs, rolling her hips to get his dick to hit all the right spots. He grips her by the waist to try and contain his moans, but she squeezes around him and he gets washed away by the pleasure of cumming. He’s a little embarrassed he came before her, but fortunately, she follows suit soon after, and collapses onto the bed next to him after riding out her orgasm on his cock.

“Fuck Kyle, that was amazing,” she says breathless, and agreement comes out of his mouth in a murmur, barely able to speak as his mind tries to break free of it’s post-sex haze.

“I haven’t had someone that good in a while.”

“Me neither. I mean, I haven’t had anyone in a while, but I definitely don’t remember it being that good,” he says, his brain regaining its ability to talk.

“We should do it again sometime,” she exclaims, surprising Kyle. He had never been in a friends with benefits relationship before, and had promised to only make this a one-time thing. But the release Maria gave him from his thoughts of Y/N was too good to pass up, so he looks over at her and smiles.

“I’d like that.”

Her face lights up, and Kyle realizes how pretty she looks right now, her hair spread out on the pillow, a slight sheen of sweat illuminating her smooth face. She gets up and takes Kyle’s phone to put her number into, while he gets up and starts getting dressed. But before leaving, he grabs her by the waist and pulls her in for a long kiss, promising the start of something new.

…

Unlocking the door to his apartment, Kyle’s startled to see his little brother Ike sitting on his couch, but not surprised as he waits to hear what reason he has for being here.

“Dude, Mom was just pissing me off back home, so I came here a little early. Plus, there was this girl I’ve been tryna hit up for- ever who said she was gonna be in town only for today, so I figured, two birds one stone, am I right? I’m just lucky you weren’t here when I finally got her into bed. ”

“There’s only one bedroom in the apartment, Ike. Did you have sex on my bed?” Kyle asks.

“Why’d you come so late, anyways?” Ike asks, trying to change the subject. It works, and Kyle clamps up, not wanting to admit he was also out with a girl. Unsuccessful for him however, Ike seemingly figures it out by his silence.

“Dude, are you telling me you were out taming a girl’s strange while you had another one waiting for you back home? Damn, I think I might finally be able to call you my older brother with a little respect.”

“There was another girl here waiting for me?” Kyle asks, confused.

“Oh hell yeah, a smoking hot chick named Y/N. There’s no way you let a girl like her be a booty call, so I really hope the other girl you were seeing was a goddamn supermodel.”

Kyle pauses, completely forgetting he had asked Y/N to drop his jacket off here for him.

“Ike, you didn’t say anything stupid, did you?”

“Yeah, but I did meet her for the first time while I was naked, so it made whatever I said not that awkward. Don’t worry bro, it’s chill.”

“Fuck Ike. Ugh, I can’t even stand to look at you right now. Pull out the couch and go to bed while I go take a shower and fix all the shit you probably did.”

He leaves Ike alone and pulls out his phone, immediately texting Y/N.

Kyle - Hey, thanks for dropping off the jacket, and I’m so so sorry for whatever the hell Ike did

Kyle - I swear I’m kicking him out tomorrow

Y/N - ahaha it’s alright, ik teenage boys can be stupid as hell

Y/N - i was a little surprised that you weren’t there though since i came pretty late

He pauses for a moment, mulling over what to say to her. He doesn’t wanna come up with a lie since it’s probably gonna come back to bite him in the ass, but telling Y/N he wasn’t there to help shield her from Ike because he was out having sex doesn’t sound great either.

Kyle - Sorry, I was out having dinner with Maria

Y/N - oh

She takes a little while to respond, and Kyle wonders if she’s hurt by his lie. But he wasn’t lying though, just emitting some parts of the truth.

Y/N - it’s fine, i just hope you had a lot more fun with her than i had with ike lol

And despite liking the message, Kyle can sense that maybe it would’ve been better to have just not said anything about Maria at all.

…

“DUDE, ON YOUR FUCKING LEFT!”

“THAT’S YOUR LEFT DUMBASS.”

Stan’s inability to tell his left from right results in both of them dying, so Kyle gets up from the beanbag he was sitting on and gets some more soda for the both of them. They’ve been gaming in Stan’s shitty apartment for the past two hours, talking about life and overall catching up with each other after 7 years apart.

“Hey, Wendy wanted me to remind you about the Fourth of July party we’re having this weekend. She wants to show off some new burger recipe she learnt how to do, but my Uncle Jimbo’s sending some fireworks he got from his recent trip to Mexico, so I really just wanna blow shit up.”

“Oh fuck yeah, I’ll definitely come.”

“Cool. We’re planning to invite Butters and Y/N, obviously, along with a bunch of people like Wendy and I’s coworkers and such… Oh, and a surprise guest!”

Kyle nods along, but Stan looks at him expectantly and clears his throat.

“As I was saying, there’s gonna be a lot of people. But there’s always room for more, so is there anyone you wanna invite, Kyle?”

“Uhm, I think I’ll just come by myself, since you said you already invited Butters and Y/N.”

“Yes, but Kyle… Is there anyone special you wanna invite?” Stan asks, and Kyle looks at him as if he’s gone crazy. He shakes his head, and Stan rolls his eyes.

“Kyle, are you gonna invite Maria? You’ve been seeing her for a couple weeks, and we all wanna meet her. Well, Wendy mainly, but you already know she speaks for everyone anyways.”

He can’t hide his surprise, and sputters out the next sentence in disbelief.

“You guys wanna meet Maria? Why?”

“Well, aren’t you in a relationship with her? I’m your best friend, why wouldn’t I wanna meet your girlfriend?”

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Kyle remarks, and Stan scoffs.

“Dude, you two are totally boyfriend girlfriend. Okay, let’s look at the facts. Have you ever taken her out on a date?”

“Yes.”

“Has she ever spent the night?”

“Yes.”

“And have you ever made her breakfast in the morning?”

“Yes.”

“And has she done all these things more than once?”

Kyle stays silent, but nods, and Stan leans back on his beanbag, satisfied.

“Well then, you my friend, you have got yourself a girlfriend.”

“It’s not like that. I’m sleeping with her, so everything I’ve done with Maria has just been common decency.”

“Yeah, common decency in a relationship .”

“How the fuck would you know about what makes a girl your girlfriend? You’ve been in the same relationship since middle school,” Kyle argues, and Stan gives up.

“Touché. But I’m just saying, we all wanna meet her.”

“Everyone?... Including Y/N?”

Stan smirks. “Dude, I’m not talking to you about another girl when you have a girlfriend.”

“SHE’S NOT MY GIRLFRIEND!” Kyle yells, and Stan laughs.

“All right, all right,” Stan says, unpausing the game.

They keep playing normally for a while, and Kyle focuses on keeping Stan alive. But on the car ride home, he considers what Stan said, and realizes he’s right. In the few weeks they’ve been seeing each other, him and Maria have transitioned from two people hooking up into something more. He saw her as more than stress relief, now someone he could rely on to help with his problems. They would often spend hours together after having sex, and as Stan pointed out, he’d even cooked breakfast for her a couple times when she’d spent the night.

Were they in a relationship? The main reason Kyle didn’t want to be with her like that was because he had feelings for Y/N, but he feels less and less for her the more time he spends with Maria. And if Maria is the one girl who can distract him from her, maybe it was worth giving a relationship with her a chance.

She was already meant to come over that night, but her presence doesn’t relax him in the way it normally does, instead only emphasizing his nervous fears. Since their first night together, Kyle had become much more confident in the bedroom, but tonight he lets her ride him on top again, too tense to actively fuck her. The sex is of course amazing, but when she tries to get off of him after they both come, he holds her in place and looks her dead in the eyes.

“Hey, so uhm, there’s a party some of my friends are hosting this weekend on Saturday, if you wanna come along? With me, I mean.”

She looks a little confused, and tilts her head slightly to the side.

“It’s a party with all of your friends?”

“Yeah,” he says sheepishly, and she stays silent for a moment, averting his gaze.

After a while, she presses her lips together, then looks at him and nods. He breaks out into an elated grin, but when he goes to kiss her, she turns her head and gets off of him. She collects her stuff, asks him to text her the address, and leaves, saying nothing more. He goes to take a shower, then texts her and flops down on his bed, lulling himself to sleep with the thoughts of a normal relationship.

…

Maria doesn’t talk to Kyle for the rest of the week, ghosting his texts and sending all his calls to voicemail. She’s not at her apartment the nights they planned to meet, nor does she show up at his. The first day, he figures she probably needed some time to think. Her coming to the party’s a pretty big step up from what they’re used to, so it’s understandable she might want some time to get adjusted. He’s even able to excuse the next day when he still doesn’t receive any communication from her. But on the third day of silence he starts getting anxious, and the fourth makes him downright petrified. By Friday, he’s given up hope, and on Saturday he makes his way to Wendy’s apartment, prepared to battle everyone else’s disappointment at her not showing up, alongside his own.

Yet, when he’s a couple feet away from the party, someone comes up from behind him and covers his eyes. He assumes it’s Butters or something, but turning around he can’t hide the shock on his face. Standing there is Maria, clad in a collage of red, white, and blue clothing, with stars and stripes galore, looking like a true American. Kyle had never seen her looking so enthusiastic, and in a little way she somewhat reminds him of Y/N. But he brushes that thought away, and asks what she’s doing here.

“I mean, I’m beyond happy to see you, but you haven’t been answering my calls or texts for the past week, so I kinda figured that…”

“I know, and I’m so sorry Kyle. I just needed some time to think everything over. But I’m here, and I’m ready,” she replies with a big smile, and Kyle wraps his arms around her, gripping her tightly like he’s scared she’ll fly away. She returns the embrace, then starts walking towards the party. Pausing once she realizes he’s not following her, she sticks out her hand, which he happily takes, and they walk in together.

[alovelyfox]

Chapter 2: An Awkward Encounter

Was it left? Or right? Oh crap, were you even on the right set of stairs? You couldn't for the life of you remember, and the sweat trickling down your back was starting to stick. You had rushed into the law firm without bothering to check your appearance after biking three miles and getting into an accident. A stare from the receptionist however, made you realize that it was probably worth a trip to the bathroom before meeting your new colleagues. The young man at the front desk took pity on you, and gave you a list of directions which would take you to the secret bathroom hidden in the stairwell where you could fix herself up. But the ringing in your ears from running up the stairs meant you couldn't understand a word he said, which leads to you now wandering aimlessly around while your body grew more tired by the second.

However, the glint of a restroom sign on the flight of stairs below gave you a much needed boost of energy. Determined to not be any later than you already were, you hurry down the steps, inadvertently bumping into a tall man who was heading upwards. His scent was familiar, but your eyes were focused on the sign, so you squeak out an apology and practically sprint down towards it.

Luckily the bathroom was unoccupied, so you quickly lock the door and get to work. Looking in the mirror, you wonder if this was how you looked like to the man you crashed into with your bike this morning. Your mind thought back to his curly red hair, standing out against the black and white of his suit. The freckles which were smattered across his face, his lucid green eyes gazing into yours... Deciding that it would be fate if you ever met again, you take a look inside your purse. You had luckily overpacked due to where you were going in the evening, so you take out some deodorant and perfume and eliminate the smell of sweat which was wafting from you.

You fix your makeup, smooth down your hair, and pat down your clothes, before smiling to yourself in the mirror. After long years of study, you were finally here. Your dream job, helping make society a better place. It didn’t pay as much as the fancy corporate jobs many of your classmates took, but you had just gotten a new roommate with whom you could split your rent/living expenses with. And anyways, it didn’t matter. You were doing what you loved, and that was enough for you.

…

Finally making it to the office looking much more presentable, the receptionist introduces himself as Sam, and takes you to meet everyone else. The office’s designated floor was pretty small, with a big open bullpen for the junior lawyers and separate offices for the senior lawyers. But it's in one of those high-rise buildings with a view over the city anyone would die for. You sneak glances towards it while being acquainted with everyone else, who are all extremely warm and welcoming.

“Oh, there’s one more guy you’ve gotta meet, Kyle. He’s gonna be your supervisor while you’re here, so you better make a good first impression. He was the one meant to greet you, but when he came in he ran straight into his office and shut the door. I actually prepared some coffee for you both so you could sit down and have a little meeting, do you mind taking it to him now? He’s in the office down the hall on the left”. Sam winks as he hands you two cups of coffee and sets you on your way.

…

The nameplate on the door reads ‘Kyle Broflovski’ in gold letters, and you can't tell whether it intimidated or intrigued you. You mean to knock but your hands are full with the coffee, so you sort of thud against the door. When there's no response, you figure he might not even be in there, so using your elbow you push the door handle and open it.

You have no idea what you're expecting Mr. Broflovski to look like, but it's certainly with more clothes on. The man standing behind the desk is half naked, his muscled back facing you while deciding on which dress shirt to take from a closet. He shrugs a white one on and turns around, only to yelp in surprise and take several steps back from where he was standing. Your feet are planted firmly in place, trying to figure out whether or not this is your new supervisor, and avoiding all eye contact with his abs which are barely concealed by his unbuttoned shirt.

“Who are you?” He asks, a slight hint of panic in his voice.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you sir, but I’d rather tell you who I am when you’re fully clothed and I can actually see your face”.

“Oh right”, he mumbles before turning back around to haphazardly button the rest of his shirt. Taking a seat down on his desk chair, he looks at you up and down before his eyes widen from recognition.

“I know you. You’re the girl from this morning, the one who spilt coffee all over me, then bought me an apology bagel. What the hell are you doing in my office?”

You finally make proper eye contact with him and realize he’s completely right. You were the girl who spilt coffee all over him, and he was the guy with the gorgeous green eyes. And of course just to smite her, God made him your new supervisor with whom you'd had the most awkward introduction with ever. Twice.

“I’m Y/N L/N, your new junior lawyer, Mr. Broflovski. I’m so sorry for barging in like this, I’m normally so polite I swear. Well, I mean, when I’m not crashing into people with my bike. Sorry about that again by the way. Haha…”

You try to laugh off the last part, but it comes out sounding insincere so you shut your mouth and wait for him to react. He rakes a hand through his red curls then motions for you to sit down on an empty chair in front of him.

“Call me Kyle. Sorry, I shouldn’t have reacted like that, I knew you were coming. I just didn’t know you would be… you.”

He reaches for the cup of coffee and you get a closer look at his face than this morning. Upon closer inspection, you can see the dark circles that outline his face, making him look twice as old than you assume he is. His eyes are still as absorbing however, and you can now notice his hooked nose when he turns to the side and takes a sip of his cup. He still looks extremely attractive, something you now realize you’ve already told him. Heat rises to your face and you pray that he doesn’t remember how awkward and weird you were, so you sit up straighter in the chair and speak in a strong, confident voice.

“Look Kyle, I know we got off to an unfortunate start, but I’ve worked my ass off to get into this law firm, and I’d hate for a bad relationship with you to ruin it. So, let’s start over. I already brought you two cups of coffee this morning so I’d say we’re even for me ruining your shirt. The other stuff I’m sure we can get over, so if you don’t mind, Sam said you wanted to have a meeting with me and I suggest we get that underway.”

You nod at him, watching his reaction, really just seeing if he was going to kick you out of his office for how blunt you just were. But a small smirk appears on his face, and he nods back at you.

“Alright then.”

He spends the next hour explaining to you the inner workings of the company, what you’ll be needing to do in your position, etc. You're quite passionate about the job, so you listen carefully to what he says, his face only being a little bit distracting. He then hands you some paperwork to sign in order to complete your employment, but you notice how intently he's staring at you while you fill it out. Like you're a puzzle, and he's trying to figure you out. After you finish signing every dotted line, he extends out his hand to welcome you officially to the company. You shake it warmly, taking note of how much bigger it is than your own, and the slight crackle of electricity you feel crawl up your skin when the two of you make contact.

He leads you out into the hallway, and tells you what to do for the rest of the day and where to do it. You give him your thanks alongside a big smile, which makes the tips of his ears go slightly red. He turns away without saying a word and shuts the door, which you find somewhat rude but assumes he's a busy man with more important things to do than smile back.

…

The rest of the day goes by in a flash. Kyle had given you a lot of work to get started on, so after wrapping it all up it's around 5:45. You start to panic as you're meant to be at the bar by 6, so you swiftly pack up all your belongings which had been scattered across your new desk and head towards the stairs. You're about to start running down when someone's arm pulls you back. Kyle's standing behind you, with an amused expression on his face.

"You know, this is one of the best buildings in the city. We do have an elevator." He points his head towards the two metal doors a little further left than where you're standing, something you must've missed in your rushed state both this morning and now. You smile at him and make your way over, and he comes in with you. Both of you reach to press the ground floor button, and your fingers lightly graze each other. You snap your hand back, that familiar electric spark from shaking his hand in the morning returning back to tingle on your fingertips. He pushes the button and both of you head down.

The ride is quiet, the elevator being filled with a silence both of you are comfortable with. You exit the building and are about to wish Kyle a good night but a feeling of anxiousness spreads across your body and face.

"Is everything okay? You look... scared." Kyle asks, as you pace around the outside of the building.

"Shit, I can't find my bike. I padlocked it here this morning, where the hell is it?" You spend the next couple minutes searching for it to no avail, but with the clock ticking down you eventually give up, all the while Kyle watches you carefully.

"You need a ride? It's getting kind of late and with the high chance that you don't find your bike it's probably not a good idea to be walking home alone."

"Really? That would be amazing."

"Cool. My car's parked near the coffee cart from this morning."

You don't really wanna go revisit the place you made an absolute fool of yourself, but you start walking with Kyle anyways and once inside the car you give him an address.

…

His car's pretty nice, not surprising considering that he probably definitely gets paid shitloads from the firm. He also keeps it rather clean, a nice contrast to the guys in your college whose cars looked like a visual representation of a landfill. You decide you like this, and want to know more about him.

"Do you normally leave the office this late?" You ask, considering it was almost 6 and everyone else at the office had left at 5 on the dot.

"Yeah. You could've left earlier though, it's only your first day. No one expects you to work late in your first week. Or at least, I don't."

"I wasn't expecting to work that late. Actually I meant to leave early, but I got so absorbed in the work that I just forgot." Your face heats up slightly as you say this, and you hope he doesn't think that you're sucking up to him or anything. You genuinely did enjoy everything you got given to do today.

"Any particular reason for needing to leave early?" He asks, and your face heats up more.

"Uh, yeah. I have a date. That's actually where you're driving me now."

His hands grip the steering wheel slightly harder, but he keeps his tone apathetic.

"Oh, you have a boyfriend?"

"No no, it's just a first date. Kind of like a blind date. He was the one who set it up actually. I wasn't planning to go, but he's been pretty persistent about going out with me, and I figured that if my first day at work went badly I could blow off some steam."

Kyle doesn't respond to this, but you can see his shoulder relax. He doesn't probe further, so you spend the rest of the ride alone with your thoughts, thinking about how you even got roped into this date in the first place. You don't even really wanna go now, but it's too late to cancel. Plus, you told your new roommate that you'd be home late, and you didn't want to seem lame by coming back before 7. She seemed super nice, way nicer than the one you had in your college dorm. You helped move her in last weekend, then split a bottle of wine. She told you that she recently landed a job working at Greenpeace, and you both bonded over your shared passion about saving the world. She mentioned a little about her time growing up in a small town called South Park in Colorado, but mainly talked about her excitement of getting out of there and starting a new adventure in the city. You hadn't seen her much since that night with both of you being busy preparing for your new jobs, but you secretly hoped you would become closer. You don't keep in touch with many of your college friends, and want a best friend to confide in about everything. Especially things like how hard it was to sit next to your boss right now when he smelt so good and his face looked so cute all concentrated on driving. You dash these thoughts out of your mind and stare out the window until you reach the bar you're meeting your date in.

"Thank you so much for driving me, Kyle, I really apprecia-"

"You should give me your number." He says bluntly.

"I'm sorry?" You ask bewildered. You would've given it happily, but the way he asks makes it seem more like a command rather than a question.

"You said this was a blind date, right? If the guy ends up being a creep, you won't have any way to get home. I can come pick you up instead."

He doesn't seem to realize you could probably call a taxi to pick you up, but the idea of your number being saved into a guy as handsome as Kyle's phone wasn't something you were gonna give up. He hands you his phone and you type it in, before expressing another thank you and heading into the bar. He waits until you're safely inside before he leaves, a fact that shouldn't make you smile but does anyway. You text your guy and he directs you to where he is, sitting in a small booth in the corner.

"Hey, I think you're my date. Stan Marsh, right?"

He smiles.

[alovelyfox]

Chapter 9: Confessions with a side of pancakes

The words leave your mouth in a tone much more harsh than you mean them to, but it seems to stop whatever the two idiots on your couch were just doing, so it feels justified. Stan abruptly gets off Wendy, and she sits up to look at you. For a minute, the three of you are trapped in some kind of sick staring-contest, eyes darting back and forth between each other. But you’re the first to break when the sight of Stan’s happy trail causes you to turn around, nearly dropping Kyle as he drunkenly leans on your body.

“Put some goddamn clothes on,” you demand, and wait until Wendy gives you the all-clear that they’re decent before facing them. You clear your throat before addressing them again, the anger in your voice gone but the irritation ever present.

“Please, someone tell me what the fuck was going on here. Because if it’s what I think it is, I swear to-”

“It was,” Wendy interrupts. “It is. I don’t know, but… yeah. Whatever you’re thinking, you’re probably right.”

Kyle stirs slightly after you let out a heavy sigh, and you figure your first priority should be him. You motion for Stan to come take him off you, and when he’s been gently laid on an empty chair, you go and take a seat beside Wendy, ignoring what they were probably doing where you’re currently seated to avoid throwing up.

“Wendy, are you serious? I know emotions are running high after not seeing each other for 7 years, but immediately having sex with him? You’re not teenagers anymore, why rush into something like that?”

“Because we’re in love,” Stan replies, but your withering gaze doesn’t make him shut up, and he continues. “I love Wendy, and she loves me. I’m sorry Y/N, but you can’t stop true love, a love like ours.”

You think hearing the word ‘love’ come out of Stan’s mouth one more time will kill you, so you turn to Wendy, and stare deeply into her eyes to discern her true feelings on the matter as you ask your next question.

“And you want this? A relationship with Stan again?”

She nods yes, but turns her gaze to the floor to avoid yours, something which tells you she might not be entirely sure. But it’s obvious she’s not going to share her ambivalent feelings with him in the room, so you decide to let it go.

“Whatever. Fall in love, get hurt, have each other’s babies, whatever, just keep me out of it. Anyways, is he staying over?”

She shares a look with him, and purses her lips together.

“Ask him.”

You reluctantly drag your gaze to Stan’s, who’s standing awkwardly next to where Kyle’s slumped.

“I mean, I can probably catch a lift with Kyle right?”

“I guess. He does need someone to drive his car back to his place, maybe you could crash with him there… Let’s ask,” you say as you walk towards the kitchen, fixing a cold glass of water for Kyle. You press it against his flustered cheek, and it seems to wake him up from his stupor, if barely.

“Hey Kyle, can Stan drive you-”

“Hey Y/N,” he replies with a dopey grin on his face, and the sheer cluelessness of his expression results in you giving him an embarrassed smile in return.

“Hi Kyle. Look, can Stan drive your car home and-”

“Stan? Stan Marsh, from South Park? Fuck no he’s not driving my car, shit’s gonna end up crashed into a beaver dam or something.”

Wendy stifles a laugh while Stan protests in the background that it was a boat rather than a car, and you reassuringly pat Kyle’s soft curly hair, lulling him back to his drunken slumber.

“Okay, so that means all four of us are sleeping in the apartment tonight,” you say, as Stan and Wendy share a look. You catch on, and immediately shut it down.

“No way you two are sleeping together in the same room. I’m not falling asleep listening to muffled moans through the wall by you two horny rabbits. What about this, I’ll give my room up to Kyle and Stan, while Wendy and I crash in hers?”

Everyone still awake agrees, and Stan drags Kyle off to your room. You help Wendy clean up, and eventually you’re both settled in her bed ready to sleep. But while the alcohol in your bloodstream is making you more tired than anything, Wendy is buzzing with a nervous energy, so you decide to ask her exactly what happened which led to her and Stan before you and Kyle walked in.

“I don’t know, if I’m being honest. You see, today’s our anniversary, so of course I was thinking of him. And then he just showed up, talking all about how much he missed me after all these years, how much he loves me… And he asked if I loved him back. While we were having sex. Fuck, it all got so confusing, I still can’t make sense of it even now.”

“I’m sorry Wendy, but what? I mean, you haven’t seen this guy in what, 7 years, and then he shows up on your anniversary and love bombs you like that. And then you have sex with him despite not being completely sure about your feelings? I’m sorry, but I think that sounds really toxic.”

She just shrugs it off. “I think it sounds really romantic. I mean, now that I know exactly how he feels, it can help me decide how I feel about him. And don’t judge me for having sex with him, didn’t you bring Kyle here to do the same thing?”

You know she’s just trying to divert attention away from her and Stan’s relationship which you think is weird, but don’t decide to push it any further. Plus, this new topic she’s brought up has you squirming uncomfortably.

“Of course not,” you reply. “He’s in no condition to drive home, you saw how drunk he was.”

“So the only thing stopping you was how drunk he was? It doesn’t matter how attractive he looks to be now?” She inquires, and you feel your face heat up.

“I mean-”

“So you like him?”

You open your mouth to answer, but your brain hesitates for a moment and you close it. Do you like Kyle? You certainly like the way you feel around him. That sounds like what you’d say about someone you like. But maybe that just means you feel safe around him, like he’s a trusted friend akin to someone like Wendy. Yet you don’t stare into her black eyes the way you do his emerald green, wondering what he’s thinking behind his often serious gaze. And you don’t feel that same electrical tingle run through your body whenever your skin makes contact with hers as you do with his. Fuck, maybe you do like him.

“I’m attracted to him, at the very least,” you reply, and Wendy lets out a teasing smile.

“So what’re you gonna do about it?”

“Nothing. It’d be too awkward to do anything about these… feelings I have, especially since he’s my boss.”

“Sure, he’s your boss right now , but what about when he’s not? I mean, I do remember you mentioning something about how there’s some changes going on at your firm, and I know you’re anxious about what it could mean for you, but maybe something happens with Kyle instead and you’re no longer working under him. What then?”

You forgot you had told her about the management changes happening at the company. The stress over potentially losing your job was what you used to justify why you came home crying after the Langford trial, the shame of losing too humiliating to relate back to Wendy. But you remember how kindly Kyle had taken you in his arms when you told him, letting you pour all your emotions onto him without uttering a word of complaint. And if that’s the lengths he’s willing to go to make an employee feel better, imagine what he’d do for his girlfriend. If you were his girlfriend.

“If there was a chance we could date, then… Then I would at least tell him how I feel.”

It feels good, talking it all out like this, expressing the thoughts you’d hidden inside for so long. But the idea of once again being so vulnerable in front of him leaves you nervous, so you’re happy when Wendy slightly changes the subject to something else.

“I get it, to be honest. I mean, he’s changed so much from when I knew him in South Park. Back then, he was just a tall, scrawny Jewish kid who was too smart for his own good and hung out with Stan a lot. But now… He’s certainly come into his looks.”

Hearing her talk about how attractive Kyle is makes you a little uncomfortable, so you take the opportunity to ask about how it was growing up in South Park, and how the three of them really knew each other. Wendy divulges it to you, and for the rest of the night she explains the complicated dynamics of their relationships, along with the other interesting characters of their small Colorado town, until you both grow too tired to keep talking and fall into a dreamless sleep.

…

The time on your phone reads 8 am when your eyes groggily open, so you silently slink out of bed to avoid waking a still snoring Wendy and make your way out into the living area, which is where you encounter Kyle with his back towards you in the kitchen. Taking a seat on a nearby barstool, you cram your head to the side and try and see what exactly he’s doing to produce the delicious smell filling the air. You realize he’s making breakfast, cooking enough pancakes to feed you both and everyone else when they wake up.

You reflect back on all the other times he’s gone out of his way to do things that take care of you and others, and your heart warms.

He would make such a good husband one day, you catch yourself wondering, but your thoughts are interrupted by Kyle turning around and getting jump-scared by you sitting down in front of him.

“Jesus Y/N, how long have you been there?”

“Long enough that I totally appreciate what you’re doing right now” you reply with a playful smile.

“Well, this hangover’s beating my ass right now, but I hear keeping busy can help, so I thought I’d make breakfast for everyone,” he replies, turning back to flip over some pancakes after taking a strawberry from a crowded bowl and placing the rest in front of you. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“Fuck no,” you respond, popping a juicy red one in your mouth. “But for your information, the best hangover cure is raw eggs, no contest.”

He gives you a confused look.

“There’s no way that actually works.”

“I swear on the stars themselves it does. Fastest way to reset your body back to normal and it'll probably help stop the pounding you’re hearing inside your head right now.”

Kyle scoffs.

“Drinking a glass of them could open up my third eye, still not drinking that.”

“C’mon, it’s really not that bad,” you say, getting off the stool and heading towards the pantry to grab some. But Kyle’s faster, and comes up behind to put it high enough in the air that you can’t reach.

“I told you, I’d rather die.”

You roll your eyes and strain to get them, struggling while he quietly laughs. But when you jump up, he goes silent. You keep jumping before you realize something’s slightly poking in the back.

Holy shit. Is he hard?

In a rush last night, you put on a thin pair of mini shorts, which means you can feel all of him through them. You’re about to say something when lowers his head down to yours. You feel his curly hair brush against the side of your face, and can smell a hint of strawberry on his breath when he whispers into your ear.

“Don’t stop.”

His words tickle and a faint smile appears on your face. You arch your back slightly towards him, and he lets out a soft groan. His breathing becomes more labored as you continue grinding against him, and you feel yourself getting wet. Your entire body’s on fire, and the noises he’s making behind you aren’t helping cool you down.

But when he tries to pull you closer by your waist, he accidentally lets go of the eggs, which subsequently spill all over you. The cold sensation of the runny yolks spilt on your body pulls you out of whatever trance you were just in, and you and Kyle move away from each other as his eyes widen.

“Oh my god, Y/N. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s fine,” you reply, and start to clean up the mess before he stops you.

“No, let me. You go take a shower and get that off of you, I have to finish cooking anyways.”

You nod and make your way to the bathroom, wishing that the earth would break apart and swallow you whole. But as you open the door, the sight in front of you immediately quells any concerns about what just happened with Kyle.

Wendy and Stan are engaged in a passionate make out session before the sink, hands tangled in each other's hair and lips locked firmly together.

“Oh my god, it’s not even been 24 hours after you finished having sex, give it a rest!” You exclaim, causing Wendy to turn towards you while Stan barely notices you’re there. You pull him away from her and tell them both to go sit at opposite ends of the dining table while you take a shower.

“And keep your hands to yourselves for fucks sake,” you call out before slamming the bathroom door shut.

You know you’re projecting your anger over what happened with Kyle onto them, but you can’t help it. Stripping off your clothes and hopping in, you wonder how far the two of you would’ve gone if not… interrupted. But the stickiness you feel on the inside of your thighs tells you all you need to know, and you sigh before letting the cold water hit your face, scrubbing away the eggs and the shamefulness you feel over what you just did.

…

Stepping out of the bathroom, the table is set and filled with a massive stack of pancakes, which all three of the others are helping themselves to. You take a seat next to Wendy and across from Stan, who seems to have already forgotten your angry outburst and is tucking in.

“Alright, I know I said not to get me involved in your relationship, but I at least wanna know what you two are to each other, so I won’t be as shocked next time I walk in and see the two of you dry-humping.”

Stan looks up from his food with a mouthful of pancake, which he swallows before answering.

“That’s easy, we’re dating. Right Wendy?”

You turn towards her and she shifts uncomfortably in her seat.

“I don’t know, I thought maybe we could just take it slow,” she replies, which causes Stan to drop his utensils as he stares at her in surprise.

“What the fuck? Fuck that, we’re just resuming from where we left off in high school.”

You sneak a glance at Kyle, who’s focusing all his energy into not being noticed by you. You sigh and silently eat while Wendy and Stan continue arguing.

“I think our high-school relationship was riddled with a bunch of problems I’d rather forget, so I’d rather we just start newly-fresh.”

“Wendy, what ‘newly-fresh’ couple says I love you the first time they have sex?”

Wendy's eyes dart from her breakfast to Stan’s face, while his gaze remains secured on hers. She shyly tucks a strand of hair behind her ear while tilting her face away from him before replying.

“Well, you see, the thing is, I’m not really sure I meant it. I think I was just caught up in the moment.”

Kyle seems to sense that Stan’s about to start yelling, so he stands up and clears his throat.

“Alright, I think it’s time for Y/N & I to head off to work, we can drop Stan off on the way if Wendy doesn’t mind cleaning up here?”

He looks at her and she enthusiastically nods, obviously willing to do anything to not continue her conversation with Stan. But he declines, standing up and stating he’d rather stay here and keep talking, which is when Kyle grabs his wrist and mutters it’s probably best to leave Wendy alone for now, since she looks like she’s on the verge of tears. Stan clenches his jaw, but agrees, and soon enough the three of you are in Kyle’s car.

…

The ride is quiet, Kyle focused on driving, you trying to avoid his gaze in the passenger’s seat, and Stan simmering in the backseat. You eventually reach his place, and he mumbles a thank you under his breath then gets out of the car, leaving you and Kyle alone with the memory of what happened in the kitchen. The car is too silent, and you hate the idea of going back to where you used to be in your relationship because of one silly mistake, so you try to start a conversation about something else entirely.

“Hey, so what did you and Stan talk about last night after Wendy and I went to bed?”

He sighs, before letting out a faint smile.

“Honestly? I have no clue. He probably did say something to me, but I was too drunk off my ass to take it into consideration.”

“Lightweight,” you reply, and he smirks.

“Maybe. I don’t know, I don’t remember getting drunk like that, ever. And it’s funny, I wasn’t even planning to drink that much. But I guess you just bring out that side of me.”

You turn your head away, flustered at the implication.

“I wonder what other sides I can bring out of you,” you accidentally say out loud, and now it’s Kyle’s turn to blush.

For the rest of the ride, the both of you sit in a comfortable, albeit embarrassed silence. Upon arriving at the firm, you get out of the car quickly, claiming it’s just so Kyle can go park without you distracting him, but you both know it’s so you can catch your breath. The fresh breeze hits your face, cooling your cheeks down significantly. You walk into the building and elevator by yourself, wanting some time to collect your thoughts before going in without his intoxicating presence to fry your brain. But there’s a blond-haired man standing at the front desk who you assume is Sam’s replacement, so you plaster on a big smile and introduce yourself.

“Hi, you must be the new receptionist, Leopold! My name’s Y/N, I’m a junior lawyer here.”

“Oh well hey there!” he replies in an enthusiastic, slightly southern voice. “You don’t have to call me Leopold. I mean, it’s technically my name, but I'm only using it to get away from a toxic ex I have. I really prefer it when people use my nickname,-”

“BUTTERS?” Kyle calls out from behind you, and you recognize the name from what Wendy told you last night about their hometown.

“Butters? From South Park?” You ask, and he shyly grins.

“Yep, that’s me.”

[alovelyfox]

Chapter 7: Caught

The next couple seconds seem to stretch on for multiple lifetimes. Y/N remains looking shell shocked at Kyle while he tries to remain as nonchalant as possible, ignoring the blaring alarms going off in his head. Her eyes survey his body, taking in his distorted face and bloody appearance.

“Oh my god, Kyle.”

She then rushes out of his office, and Kyle runs after her into the kitchen, thinking of every possible way to justify how he looks.

“Y/N, wait. I can explain everything. Just let me-”

She puts a finger to his lips and he stops talking, his brain turning blank at the sudden contact

“No, let me,” she says, pointing towards her desk. “Go sit down.”

He hesitates, and she looks at him with pleading eyes.

“Please Kyle.”

He nods and takes a seat on her chair, while she assembles something he can’t see. She comes back a moment later with an hastily mustered ice pack, which she dumps into his open hands and then walks back to his office. Returning with a clean white shirt, she takes the ice away and looks him up and down.

“Take your shirt off.”

Her sudden bluntness stuns Kyle, and she turns away upon realizing.

“Sorry, I meant take your shirt off so I can assess the damage,” she elaborates, her voice suddenly quite shy. Once he confirms it’s off, she turns back around and inspects his body. He watches her intently while she does, but her face only exhibits concentration. She sighs once she’s done, and tells him to put the new shirt on.

“Looks like they didn’t do much to your body. The main issue is your face, but we can get that patched up in no time,” she says, handing him the ice pack to put over his black eye before walking back to the kitchen. She comes back with some gauze and a cold, damp cloth, which she lightly presses on the area around Kyle’s lip. She’s way too close to his face for his liking, so to avoid eye contact he glances at the clock, which reads 10:15 pm.

“Wait, why are you here in the first place? It’s quarter past 10, everyone else would’ve left hours ago.”

“Oh yeah. Well, it’s kinda embarrassing, but I thought you might not have left yet, and I wanted to see you. Good thing too, otherwise no one would have been here to help you after getting mugged.”

Wait, mugged? Kyle thinks, then he smiles as he realizes why she must assume that.

“How do you know the blood on me is mine?” He asks with a playful tone, and she smirks.

“I don’t think I could imagine you purposefully hurting anyone, ever,” she replies, and his heart skips a beat.

I was standing in front of her covered in blood, yet she still refused to believe that it was my fault. Imagine what she’d say if she knew the truth. He shook that thought out of his mind.

“Why do you think that?” He questions, and she shrugs.

“You’re normally so calm, and you always keep your emotions in check, unlike me.”

She turns somber, probably remembering how she cried on his shoulder that evening after the trial.

“Hey, don’t worry about the case. You’re gonna make a great lawyer. I mean, you care so much about everyone around you, and always see the best in people no matter what they do.”

Embarrassed, she shyly tries to turn away but he stands and tilts her chin back up so she’s forced to look at him.

“You’re lovable, and charming without even trying. And you’re so beautiful…”

His voice trails off after the last word, and her breath hitches as they look into each other’s eyes. She again tries to avert her gaze down to the floor but he snakes a hand to the back of her neck, and leans in so close he can feel the warmth emanating from the inside of her mouth through her slightly parted lips. His own are tingling with anticipation and they’re about to make contact with hers when the door bangs open, startling Kyle so much he jumps 10 feet away from her.

“Y/N? And Kyle? What are you two doing here?” Sam’s voice penetrates through the empty room, instantly killing whatever mood was just in the air. Kyle turns away to hide his blush while Y/N answers him.

“Oh Sam, it’s just you. Kyle got mugged, so I’m patching him back up.”

“Kyle got mugged? Is he alright?” Sam asks as he hurries over and starts examining Kyle’s bruised eye.

“I’m fine,” he says, pushing Sam’s intruding hands away from his face. “What are you doing here?”

Sam looks around sheepishly before replying.

“I quit.”

“What?” Y/N asks bewildered, while Kyle tilts his head in confusion.

“Yeah, all the management changes going on also means budget cuts, so I got told that I can keep my job, but at a lower salary. And I don’t know, I joined this firm years ago because I needed work straight out of college, and I think if I don’t get out now I’ll be stuck here for the rest of my life. So I quit, and it feels so liberating knowing that I have so much ahead of me, and that I’m free to follow my dreams.”

Y/N moves to hug him, while Kyle awkwardly pats him on the back. He had known Sam for a while now, but had kept him at arm’s length like he did everyone else. Everyone until Y/N entered his life.

“Anyways,” Sam continues after she lets him go. “They called me an hour ago and apparently already found a replacement, some guy called Leopold. He’s starting in a couple days, so they want me to take all my personal belongings out of my desk, which is what I came here to do.”

“Oh, well I’m pretty much done with Kyle over here, so we can help! Right Kyle?”

He nods, and they head over to the receptionist desk. They pack all Sam’s things away into cardboard storage boxes, and he complains at how fast the company replaced him, while Y/N reassures him that it’s a sign that he did the right thing by quitting. The name of his replacement sounds familiar to Kyle, but his brain is still buzzing from the almost-kiss and he can’t concentrate on where he knows it from. In fact, he can’t concentrate on anything other than Y/N, and keeps stealing glances at her while they load the stuff into Sam’s car. She however, is firmly avoiding eye contact, and when Sam offers to drop her home she jumps at the chance.

She gives Kyle a tight smile before telling him to go home and heal up, then practically sprints into the passenger's seat of Sam’s car. He drives them off, leaving Kyle standing all alone, wondering what he did to make her go from nearly kissing him to not even wishing him goodnight.

…

The bruise on Kyle’s face along with his split lip healed nicely overnight, but every time Y/N averts her eyes from his the next day at work, he swears the pain comes back. She’s carefully seated at her desk the entire day, not looking up from her paperwork at all. Not when Kyle walks over to wish her good morning, or when he asks her whether she got home safely last night, or when he offers to bring her some coffee. It’s like he’s ceased to exist in her eyes. After many failed attempts to get her attention, he solemnly walks back to his office, working there quietly until 6 pm, when Sam pops his head in.

“Hey Kyle, since it’s pretty much my last day, a couple of us were gonna go down to the bar and grab some drinks. You wanna come?”

Normally Kyle would refuse an invitation to hang outside of work like this, but he figures this would be the perfect time to confront Y/N about what was wrong, so he grabs his coat and walks out with Sam. Y/N is still working peacefully at her desk, and upon seeing Sam she gets up, but a glimpse of Kyle behind his shoulder gives her pause. Sam walks into the elevator and she rushes to follow him in, but Kyle grabs ahold of her wrist to pull her back.

“Hey Sam, you go into this one. We’ll come in the next.” Sam looks slightly confused, but shrugs and closes the doors, leaving the two of them alone.

Kyle loosens his grip and Y/N slides her wrist out of his hand, then waits patiently for the elevator to come back up again, refusing to look at him.

“Y/N, please,” he pleads, but when the doors open she steps in and presses the ground floor without so much as a glance at him. He gets in beside her and the doors shut behind him. His eyes unconsciously look over at her but she suddenly finds much interest in the elevator buttons, which is where she keeps her gaze set.

Fine, if that’s how she wants to play this.

Kyle presses the emergency stop button and moves to face her, closing the gap between them and pressing her back to the elevator wall.

“Look, I know you’re probably mad at me for what happened yesterday, but what we’re not gonna do is playing this fucking silent treatment game. If you have a problem, you tell me right now, and I’m not letting you out of here until you do.”

Her body shifts uncomfortably from being in such close proximity to his, but she keeps her eyes firmly on him as she replies.

“I’m not mad. But to be honest, what you’re doing right now is giving me a reason to be.”

Kyle steps back from her and she returns to where she was standing, letting out a heavy sigh. She presses the emergency button again and the elevator starts moving again. She glances at him, and he’s about to utter an apology for his abrasive behavior when she cuts him off.

“If you want to know why I’m acting weird, at least get a couple drinks in me first,” she says grinning, and Kyle smirks. The doors open and she steps out into what he’s sure is gonna be an interesting night.

…

Sam and the others cleared out a couple hours ago, so when the clock strikes 11 pm, only Kyle and Y/N are left sitting at the bar. Empty shot glasses with dribbles of various alcohol lay in front of them, and Y/N’s sipping a craft beer while Kyle rests his head on the bartop. His mind is hazy and his thoughts unclear, as opposed to how they were when he entered.

His sole purpose was to have one drink with Y/N and get her to spill her guts, but her natural charm made him forget what he came to do. Their conversation topics ranged from how nice it’s been to have the sun out recently to whether or not Kanye would actually make a good president, and all the while the liquor kept flowing. Kyle was never a big drinker, so after a couple shots he practically collapsed on the bar, as Y/N just laughed. He now turns his head to look at her, watching as she sets her beer down and faces him.

“What’s wrong Y/N? You can tell me anything, you know?” he says, slightly slurring his words. She looks him up and down before taking a swig of her drink and sighing.

“I think losing the case yesterday has made me depressed,” she replies. “I mean, I did everything right, yet it still wasn’t enough. That’s why I didn’t want to see you today. I thought you’d be… disappointed.”

Kyle can’t imagine a world where Y/N could ever disappoint him. He found it stupid of her to think that, even for a second.

“It’s also why I haven’t texted Gemma back,” she continues. “I can’t face her knowing that she has to go back to working under that horrible man because of my failure.”

“Oh, she’s not going back to work for him. I took care of that. I took care of him.”

Y/N gives him a confused look, but his tipsy state won’t let him stop talking.

“I didn’t want that guy to be here, so I made sure you never had to see him again. I killed him”

“What, like physically?” She asks, perplexed.

“Physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually. You name it, and he’s dead. Chopped him up into some pieces and tossed him into the underworld,” he says, and she chuckles in response, so he elaborates.

“I’m kind of like the modern day Hades, you know?”

“Oh really, how so?” She teases, and he spends the next couple minutes talking about all the similarities the Greek king of the underworld and him share. She listens along with a smile, but when she gets a text from her phone it quickly disappears. Even in his drunken state he figures something must be up, so he asks her what’s wrong.

“Oh, it’s just Stan,” she says apathetically, texting him back before setting her phone face down on the table. “I helped him get a job recently so he wants to meet again to see me.”

“What, like on a date?” Kyle questions, suddenly sitting upright.

“No silly, I already told you we’re not dating.”

“Okay. Good. I don’t like the thought of you two… dating.”

“Oh yeah?” she asks playfully. “Why not, you feeling jealous?”

“Yeah. The only one you should be dating is me,” he says, and Y/N tries to laugh it off, but he stares straight at her and she stops. She’s looking at him with those damn teasing eyes of hers, and his heartbeat skips just like it did at the office yesterday. He feels like he can’t breathe, and he needs her mouth to provide him with the oxygen he so desperately craves. Leaning forward, he prepares to join their lips together and finish what he couldn’t last night, but his intoxicated brain’s misjudges where her face would be, missing her mouth completely and causing him to fall off his chair, kissing the floor instead of her.

Y/N immediately rushes to help him, but upon realizing that he’s alright, she can’t help but giggle at what just happened. She slings his arm around her shoulder so that she can walk them out of the bar, and the refreshing summer’s night air slaps Kyle across the face. It feels good, but unfortunately doesn’t help his wasted mind, so all he can do is garble an incoherent sentence when she gets him into his car and asks for the address. She sighs, and her getting into the driver's seat is the last thing he can remember until he awakes to the sound of her yelling.

…

His arm is still slung over her shoulder, and when his eyes open he immediately recognizes that they’re at her apartment. What he doesn’t immediately recognize are the people inside, and it takes him a couple moments of rapid blinking and squinting to perceive the scene in front of him. Stan is naked on the couch, and who looks like a more naked version of Wendy Testaberger from his hometown of South Park is under him. They’re both covered in sweat, and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out what they were/are in the process of doing. And that’s when Y/N’s yelling starts to make sense.

“WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON HERE?”

[alovelyfox]

Chapter 5: Truthfully

You can’t quite find the words to describe how mad you are right now. You keep muttering obscenities directed towards Stan and his entire bloodline while you check the apartment for any sign of Wendy. Confirming she had left for work, you go to the door to let Stan in. But your hand hesitates while reaching for the doorknob. You aren’t sure if it’s the best idea to let him inside. You had pegged him as sort of a dorky lover boy who wanted help getting his soulmate back, but him showing up here like this without your consent makes you think twice. Plus, it would probably be a major violation of Wendy’s trust to let her potentially psycho ex-boyfriend into your home. Deciding it’s best to talk outside, you open the door and firmly close it behind you. Stan looks confused and says something, but your eyes are firmly trained on what’s leaning against the wall behind him. Your previously thought lost pink bike.

“What the hell is this doing here?” You ask, walking over and checking the handle bar to confirm it’s really yours. Sure enough, the carving you made when you first got it at 13 is still there, staring back at you.

“Oh, Kyle dropped it off,” Stan explains, and your heart drops. “Yeah, he just left, without saying anything either. He asked if I was here to see you, then walked away.”

“Kyle was here?”

Stan nods, and a hundred different scenarios as to why he left go through your head. You had told him you were meeting your date from last night here, so he comes with your bike and finds… Stan. Fuck.

You sprint down the stairs, the only thought in your mind is to talk to him before he gets the wrong idea. But it’s too late, you run outside and find no sight of him. You slowly trudge up the stairs, walking until you come face to face with Stan. The sadness of not being able to catch up and explain everything to Kyle couples with the stress of Stan showing up unannounced, and you explode.

“Why the fuck are you here Stan? I made it very clear, I would only help you if you gave both Wendy and I space, yet not even 24 hours after, you show up at our apartment!” Stan opens his mouth to say something, but you’re too angry to let him get a word in. “Don’t fucking tell me you’re here because you love her, or because you’re desperate. Because right now, all I see is a selfish, pathetic excuse of a man who’s relying on two women to fix all his problems. And now you’ve gone ahead and fucked up my life since of course you can’t be the only miserable one. You have to drag down everyone else with you. But if your life sucks, you don’t go and screw it up for others.”

You push past him and open the door. Stepping inside, you remember one last thing that you hope gets stuck in his thick skull.

“Oh, and if I ever see you within twenty feet of this apartment again, I’ll pepper spray your ass and call the cops while you’re on the floor crying for your mommy.”

And with that, you slam the door in his bewildered face and fall onto the couch. You need this day to be over with, so after leaving a voicemail to Sam saying that you won’t be in for the rest of the day, you curl up and float into a dreamless nap.

…

You awake with the time on your phone reading 11:03pm. Your inbox is filled with messages from Stan, and you groan. You had meant to sleep until morning and let him be your future problem, but the pillow squished under your head and the heavy blanket on top of you reminds you that Wendy’s too nice for you to carry on lying to her.

You get up, grab two beers from the fridge, then walk over to her room. She’s sitting on her bed watching some Netflix show, which she pauses after inviting you in.

“Hey, thanks for making it comfortable enough for me to sleep on the couch, you were the only thing standing between me and a really bad neck sprain,” you tell Wendy as you open the drinks and hand one to her.

“No worries. You said you might have to work late this evening, so seeing you crashing on our couch at 3pm kinda made me think something happened that made you need a nap.”

You avoid eye contact and sip the beer. It tastes bitter in your mouth, so you sigh and set it down.

“Guy troubles.”

“Oh yeah, I had a couple of those in the past. Actually just the one.” She takes a sip and you figure you’re not gonna get a better opportunity than this.

“Do you mind telling me about him? Sorry if it’s kinda invasive, but I think hearing about someone else’s experience might make me feel better about mine.” You take a deep breath, hoping she’ll open up.

“Sure. I mean, it happened so long ago. My first boyfriend was a guy called Stan. He was from my hometown in Colorado; really cute, and super in love with me. In fact, he used to throw up every time he talked to me, he was that nervous,” she says, growing quiet with a sort of dreamy eyed look crossing her face. You have to clear your throat to get her to continue.

“Oh right. We started dating in middle school, and we were kinda on and off from then until high-school. Even though he was sometimes emotionally distant and I dated other guys, I truly loved him. I thought we might go the distance, but during our senior year, he got exceedingly more and more depressed. And instead of turning to the people who cared about him, he turned to alcohol. He was scared about his future, and to cope, drank himself within an inch of his life. Interventions, detoxes, rehab, I tried everything to get him to quit… But you can’t save someone who doesn’t want to be saved.”

Her eyes go glassy, so you reach over and give her some tissues laying on her nightstand, but she shakes her head and she carries on.

“I stuck with him until our graduation. By then, everyone else had left, deemed him a lost cause. They were right, and as much as I loved him, I couldn’t stay with a man trying to kill himself. I broke up with him at his house after the ceremony, which he hadn’t bothered to attend despite the fact I’d made valedictorian. I told him I was leaving for the city, and that I hope when he gets the help he so desperately needs, that he’ll call me. And considering I haven’t heard from him since, I assume he’s still in South Park, staring at the bottom of an empty bottle.”

She takes a long look at her drink before setting it down, and you mentally kick yourself for bringing beer to a conversation about an alcoholic. And when there’s perfectly good ice-cream in the freezer! But you digress, and summon enough courage to ask the question that’ll determine your entire future with Stan.

“But if he did get the help he needed, and got better, would you still wanna be with him?”

You hold your breath, and after a couple moments, she replies.

“I have no idea. He was such a train wreck when I left, and was so adamant to refuse any help. But… I suppose if he was truly better, and had truly changed… Then I would at least be willing to see him. But if we were to date again, he needs to be completely sober and have his entire life together. I can’t go through what I did with him when I was 18 and in love all over again. But I don’t think I ever truly stopped loving him, so I don’t know. I might be willing to give our relationship another chance.”

You smile, and thank her for telling you. She tells you she hopes everything works out for you, yet still looks sadly at her abandoned beer bottle. You take it along with your own and walk out of her room, dumping them both in the trash before pulling out your phone. You step out onto your small balcony, breathing in the fresh air, and call Stan back.

…

He picks up on the first ring.

“Hello? Y/N, is that you? Look, if it is, I am so sorry for showing up at the apartment, and you have every right to be mad at me. So yell, scream, cuss me out and call me every name in the book. And if you think Wendy’s life is better without me in it, and that she doesn’t feel for me what I feel for her, so be it. But I want you to know that I genuinely feel better about my life after the advice you gave me, and I want more of your help.”

You sigh. If helping him is what’s gonna make Wendy happy, you’ll do it. But first, you need assurance that he’s mentally and financially stable enough to be let back into her life.

“Dr. Grossbard. He’s a therapist I know who specializes in helping recovering addicts. I’ll send you his address, and you can reply by sending me a copy of your resume. I’ll see if there’s anyone hiring an errand boy and if we can get you a job.”

“Thank you Y/N. Oh thank you so much. I’ll get right on that.”

You almost cut the call, but decide to say one last thing.

“Oh, and Stan? Wendy feels more closely than you think.” He starts to say something, but you hang up. The air has turned cold around you and you start to feel sleepy again, but before you go inside, you send off a text to Kyle.

Y/N - thank you so so much for dropping off my bike ♥️♥️

Y/N - where’d you find it?

Read at 12:03am

…

The next day at work you try to ignore the nagging feeling that Kyle left you on read because he’s mad at you. Or maybe it’s all in your head, and in reality he just forgot to reply. Guess I’ll find out today. You sit down at your brand new desk which was delivered before you got here, and inspect the thick manila folder lying on it. Inside is information about Gemma Langford, who’s boss Lenny Ying failed to provide sufficient maternity leave when she was pregnant with twins, for which she is now suing as a human rights violation. It seems pretty simple, but what surprises you is that the prosecutor's name on the case matches your own. You realize what it means and can’t stop smiling. Your first case! You wonder if Kyle’s the one who assigned it to you, being your superior, and you decide to go ask him.

Walking into his office, the air seems cold, despite the morning sun shining through the unopened windows. Kyle is working diligently at his desk, not pausing to look up when you enter. You ask him whether it was him who gave you the case in your hands, but he doesn’t reply, his eyes glued to the computer screen in front of him. You think he didn’t hear you and asks again, yet he still doesn’t say any response.

So he IS mad at me, you discover, and sigh before walking out and closing the door behind you. He probably needs a little space, god knows why . You return to your desk and decide it’s best to just focus on your work. It’s what best distracts your mind from other thoughts, and you feel yourself getting lost in gathering all the information you need to help Gemma.

Sam comes to your desk around 12 and gives you some lunch he picked up from the deli nearby. You express your gratitude by thanking him, and it’s around this time Kyle also ventures out of his room to grab some coffee. Watching as he moves around the kitchen, you not so subtly stare at how fast he looks like he’s trying to get out of there. Sam calls his name so he turns around and accidentally makes eye contact with you. You smile, but he averts his eyes and walks back to his office post-haste.

Definitely mad. Shit.

…

It’s around 4:30 when you hit a snag with your work. The timing for when Gemma asked Lenny for maternity leave is weeks prior to when he officially filed a request, and you wonder if this is something you can use against him in the case. And even though he’s trying to avoid you, the only person who would know the answer to this is Kyle. In fact, he’s your senior, the person who should be by your side during this entire thing, helping you along. Deciding enough is enough, you march over to his office and knock.

“Come i-,” he starts to say as you open the door, but his voice abruptly stops upon seeing it’s you and he returns his gaze back to his computer.

“Kyle? I need your help with finding something about this case, if you don’t mind?”

“We have an extremely talented research team if you need help.”

“Yes, but I think it’s something you’d know, so I thought to ask you.”

“Try them first.”

“Alright, that’s enough.” You walk over to his desk and unplug the computer, yet even then it takes a couple seconds for him to turn his chair to face and for his eyes to flicker up to yours.

“I wanna know why the hell you’re being so weird and distant today, no more of this passive-aggressive bullshit. Just tell me what’s bothering you,” you say exasperated, but he remains silent.

“Is it something I did? Something I said? Or is it about who you saw at my apartment yesterday?”

His jaw tightens slightly at the mention of Stan, and you can’t help but let out a small laugh.

“Oh my fucking god, this is about him? The guy I told you I went on a date with like two days ago? Why do you care so much about my dating life?”

“I don’t,” he says, standing up to match your height. “You can date any guy you want, just.. not him. Not Stan.”

“I never said we were dating. And I also never told you his name was Stan. What, do you know him personally or something?”

“As a matter of fact, yeah. I spent my entire childhood being his best friend, so if you’re involved with him, I think I have a right to know. So tell me Y/N, are you two dating or not?” He asks, his fiery gaze only accentuated by curls of red hair falling down onto his face.

“No,” you say, your voice strong and clear. His stare relaxes faintly, but upon realizing you aren’t gonna give him anymore information, he sighs and collapses back down onto his chair. You also find somewhere to sit in the room, and the both of you remain silent for a moment.

“Look. I didn’t mean to get angry like that. It just felt…weird to find out that Stan was your date.”

“Listen. We’re not dating, but chances are I’m gonna be seeing a lot more of him now. So if you have some sort of shitty relationship with him because he’s a bad guy, I’d rather know now than later.”

Kyle sighs and leans back. “No, he’s a good guy. Or I don’t know, he was when we were kids. Our friend group was always getting into trouble, but Stan had my back through it all. He helped make my middle school life bearable, especially when there were other guys who were hell-bent on ruining it. But I still blame myself for what happened during senior year. I was too focused on having good enough grades to get out of that shithole town that I neglected our friendship, and Stan turned to alcohol to deal. I only realized how bad it had gotten when I graduated, but by then it was too little too late. I tried to keep in touch with him after I moved, but yesterday at your apartment was the first time I’d seen him in almost seven years. He never told me he’s in town, and the last place I’d have expected him to be was there. Probably why I left without saying anything.”

You pick up your chair and place it right next to his, plug back in his computer, then grab the file and open it up.

“Oh yeah, thanks again for finding my bike and dropping it back at my place. It really means a lot.”

He mumbles a ‘no worries’, then leans in closer to get a look at the information in the folder. He leans so close, in fact, that you can smell faint traces of the coconut shampoo he probably used this morning while washing his hair. A soft smile falls on your lips, and you listen eagerly as he explains to you the best way of attacking the case.

…

Time goes by quickly with the both of you working on the case in Kyle’s office, and before you know it the clock reads 6:30 pm. He notices it first, and looks at his watch to double check.

“Oh fuck, we’ve been working for 2 straight hours,” he says, as he starts to gather up all your papers spilled across his desk. “I have a couple things I still have to do so I’ll likely be here until around 9… But you should get going, it’s pretty late.”

“It’s okay, I wanna finish what I’m working on. Plus, my bike’s got a flat tire and I had to get my roommate to drop me off today, so if we leave at the same time you can drop me back! I’ll just keep you company until then,” you say, and his eyebrows knit in confusion.

“You don’t mind?” He asks, and when you shoot him an enthusiastic smile he turns away to hide his blush.

“Alright, I’ll go get us some dinner,” he says before leaving the office.

You fire off a quick text to Wendy saying you’ll be home late tonight, and grin softly as you look around the room. After an eventful couple of days, everything in your life seems to have fallen into place, and you hope you’ll always feel this happy.

[alovelyfox]

idk if its still kyle week but could u do something about kyle n jenny simons ☝️☝️

hi of course! my requests are always open for any character, i just thought kyle week would be a good time to focus on everyone’s fav redhead :P

anyways the premise of this story is that it takes place a week after the events of season 11, episode 14: The List! the characters have not been aged up (still in fourth grade), but sorry if anyone is acting ooc as i had to take some liberties to move the story along…

Why Me? Kyle Broflovski X Jenny Simons Oneshot

It was just a dumb list.

Nothing to get upset about, and definitely not enough for Jenny to be in this classroom right now.

“I don’t get why I’m here right now,” she exclaims to the black-haired girl in front of her, Wendy Testaberger. Wendy is shorter than Jenny, and if needed, Jenny knows she could easily push past her and go out through the door. But Wendy is one of her classmates, and a part of the girls friend group. All the drama that could come from a simple shove is just not worth it, especially when everyone’s already on edge after that damn list.

“You know why you’re here,” Wendy squeaks, staring pointedly. “You had a hand in creating the list of the most to least attractive guys in our class, so now you have to apologize to who you put at the bottom of the barrel. Sorry, Kyle.”

Ah, right. The redhead has been quiet ever since he was ushered in here by his best friend’s ex, and only assumed the worst when he saw who else had been forced in here with him. He had never really known Jenny, until that fateful day last week. Seeing her up there with Bebe and Lola, agreeing that he was the ugliest boy in their class changed his whole perception of her. No longer was she Jenny Simmons, one of the girls. Now, she was Jenny Simmons, shallow bitch.

“It’s fine, Wendy. I actually-”

“Who cares?” Jenny says. “I don’t see the point in apologizing for something that happened days ago.”

Kyle shoots her an aggressive glare for interrupting him, but he digresses, just wanting to be out of here as soon as possible. “I actually agree. I don’t think her saying sorry is necessary, Wendy. Can I go now? I think Stan and Kenny are still playing basketball…”

Wendy simply responds by rolling her eyes. “Look. I don’t care how long it takes. Kyle deserves an apology from every girl involved in that list, so I don’t want you guys to come out until then.”

And before either of them can blink, Wendy walks out of the classroom, shutting the door behind her with a loud slam.

Jenny lets out a sigh, and Kyle shifts around awkwardly where he’s standing.

“Look. You can leave, if you want. I’ll tell Wendy you said sorry and everything, it’s all good.”

She looks him up and down, trying to discern whether or not he’s telling the truth. She doesn’t want to risk opening the door and telling her friend she apologized just for Kyle to turn around and say she lied. The girl’s relationship with Wendy is already rocky because of what happened, and Jenny doesn’t need Kyle Broflovski of all people to completely ruin it. But, the other option is staying in here with him until the end of the world, so she nods and heads towards the door.

She tries to pry it open, but it doesn’t budge. It takes a couple more tries of pushing and pulling the handle until Jenny realizes what happened.

“The bitch locked it!”

Rolling her eyes at the immaturity of her friend, Jenny turns around, only to come face to face with Kyle. They’re so close that she can count the freckles on his nose, ones she didn’t know he had before then. She also never knew he had green eyes, as they always appear hazel under the harsh brightness of the classroom lightbulbs. But now, with the sun streaming in through the windows and onto his face, she can truly see the flecks of emerald. Huh.

“You’re not trying hard enough. Move.”

“Asshole,” she mutters, making way for him to try to open the door the exact same way she just tried 10 seconds ago, to no avail. Eventually he gives up, and leans his forehead against it in defeat. She buries her face in her hands, growing more irritated by everything as the seconds tick by, when suddenly she has an idea.

“Kyle!” She practically yells, so loud he gets startled and moves away from the door. Jenny presses her mouth against it, trying to amplify her voice as much as possible. “I’m really sorry that I had anything to do with that list, it was just supposed to be for fun, I never meant for you to get hurt.”

Kyle gives her a quizzical look, before realizing why she’s facing the door and not him as she apologizes.

“That’s okay Jenny! I forgive you, and I am totally over my feelings on that dumb list anyway. That’s why girls like Wendy Testaberger don’t need to stick me in classrooms anymore, and should just let me go out and play with my friends.”

Jenny shoots him a small smile at how quickly he caught on, and it sends something stirring in his chest. She peers outside the small peephole on the door, not finding any sight of Wendy in the hallway.

“Shit!” She yells out of frustration, turning around and kicking a nearby chair over. The action makes Kyle take several steps back from her.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“Shut up,” she tells him, advancing to where he is and wagging her index finger at his face. “This is all your fault, you know. If you didn’t have to be such a whiny fag about a stupid list, she never would’ve locked us in here.”

“This is not my fault,” he announces. “If you and your dumb girl friends just didn’t make the list in the first place, none of this would’ve happened in the first place.”

“Oh my god,” she cries out. “The list doesn’t even matter. We just made it so that Clyde would finally be popular, and we could all get free shoes! I don’t even think you’re that ugly.”

“Thanks, that makes me feel so much better,” he replies, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Jenny simply scoffs and walks away, pacing up and down the front of the class to try and think of a way to escape, while Kyle leans his back to a nearby desk. There's a few moments of silence, before he decides to break it with a question that’s been plaguing his mind ever since he learnt of his placement.

“Why me, though?”

He practically whispers the question, but Jenny stops her strolling and brings her eyes up to face him. His own are studying the floor, and they drag up to her expectantly when he hears the footsteps stop.

“Huh?”

“It’s just,” Kyle sighs, turning his face to the side so she can’t see his expression. “I was at the bottom. The very bottom of the list. Why couldn’t I at least have been, like, above Cartman or something?”

“Because Cartman’s psycho,” Jenny states matter of factly, staring bewildered at Kyle. “I thought you of all people would know that. We couldn’t put him at the bottom because he’d kill us all. We figured second to last would be enough to keep him sane, while still making it all seem believable.”

“Yeah, but… Why me? Why couldn’t Tweek or someone else be at the bottom? Am I really that ugly that I absolutely had-”

“Kyle!” Jenny shouts, sick of his ranting. Seeing that she’s startled him once again, she sighs and collapses on a nearby chair. “Listen, you’re good looking. We just put you at the bottom because we figured you’d care the least. It never felt like you were into your looks that much, and you’re really nice, so we thought that you wouldn’t make such a big deal out of being last. It was a fake list anyways, don’t get your panties in such a twist, god.”

Another moment of silence occurs, as both of them let her words hang in the air. Jenny drops her head down, utterly done with it all, while Kyle completely turns around so that the black-haired girl can’t see his blushing face. He’s not used to girls casually admitting that he’s good looking, or that he’s nice and humble. The heat crawls up his neck, due to both embarrassment and sudden timidity, so he opens a nearby window to get some fresh air.

The breeze feels nice on his hot face, and he doesn’t realize that Jenny’s come up behind him until he turns around to see her head near his shoulder. Her face looks oddly similar to how it did right before she started yelling out her apology for Wendy to hear through the door, and Kyle’s eyes dart from her furrowed brows to the open window.

“You know it’s like a 10 foot drop, right?” He says, anticipating her next words about how they should try to jump to their freedom. “Plus, that massive bush underneath isn’t going to do anything to cushion the fall.”

Her eyebrows are still pinched for a second more, before her face breaks into a wide grin.

“Pussy,” she calls him, right before tumbling out. Kyle cranes his neck out to check if she’s alright, but when his vision is obstructed by the bush, he curses and decides to follow her lead.

Luckily, neither are injured, and they find each other amongst the greenery they are sitting in. Kyle’s ushanka has slipped off, revealing his leaf covered bright-red curls. Jenny had seen his hair a couple times before, but seeing it in such close proximity made her wonder why he would ever want to keep it covered up. The lack of distance between them was also affecting him, and he pulls a small twig from her bangs and holds it between them. Both of them gaze at it, before letting out roaring laughs at how stupid the entire situation is. Kyle feels his face turning red again, and Jenny starts clutching her sides.

“Hey! What’re you doing in that bush?”

The voice of Mr Mackey sobers them both up quickly, and they duck to avoid their counselors' rapidly approaching gaze.

“You better not be smoking pot, mmkay?”

“Fuck,” Kyle whispers, as he already knows what kind of assumptions Mr Mackey will make if he finds both him and Jenny together, alone in a bush. She seems to think the same, and grabs his hand.

“Run.”

The simple command prompts both of them to get up and start sprinting away from Mr Mackey, who yells out at them, but doesn’t follow. Jenny’s a faster runner than she seems, but Kyle has no problem matching her pace, and soon enough she leads him into a random alley in town. They both take a minute to catch their breaths, during which Kyle can’t help but sneak glances at the girl. She’s slumped down on the side of the building, and her skin is given a golden glow as the sweat from running causes her bangs to stick to her forehead and it drips down the side of her cheek. He wonders if maybe she isn’t as one-dimensional as he originally thought, and sticks out a hand to aid her in getting up. She glances up at the green-eyed, freckled boy, and as she grabs his hand, wonders how she could ever think of putting him on the bottom of the list. Fake or not.

[alovelyfox]

Chapter 4: Easier said than done

🔞

Her last message seems to taunt Kyle as he paces around his kitchen and adjacent living room. His mind is scrambling, so he goes to sit down on his bay window which overlooks the city and get his thoughts in order. What the fuck was this girl doing to his head? And why does it bother him so much? He's known her for less than 24 hours, why does he care if she goes out with another guy? Or gets a boyfriend. Who isn't him. Oh fuck.

He gets up to go lie down on his bed, but only makes it as far as the couch. His head lolls off the arm rest, and he closes his eyes. He tries to think about something to get his mind off it, but every train of thought leads back to her. He remembers he has to get a haircut soon, then thinks about how her hair seems to frame her face so perfectly, illuminating those gorgeous eyes that look like they can still see the good in him. His body hurts from going to the gym after work so he spreads his hand across his aching abs, and recalls the electric touch from her fingers touching his in the elevator. Suddenly, his abs aren't the only thing aching.

He sits up straight upon realizing he’s growing hard. A loss in sex drive was one of the side effects that happened to his body when he started killing, any erotic thoughts becoming muddled along with thoughts of the mutilated bodies he had massacred. But as he reaches down his pants, his mind can only think about her. Of her body on top of his this morning after knocking into him, of her shocked expression at seeing him shirtless, of how the grazing of their fingertips jolted every sense in his body. But then his brain takes it a step further.

How would it feel seeing her naked? To be in front of her dripping pussy, all for him to worship and adore. Or to see her down in front of him, on her knees, begging for his cock. He pulls it out of his boxers and starts to massage the tip, letting his pre-cum drip out along his shaft. He strokes himself thinking of how soft and warm her breasts would be in his hands, all ready for him to suck and nibble on. The hickeys he could leave on her neck, marking her as his only. But in his mind, the hickeys start to look too much like the bruises on the corpses he would drag to hell. He closes his eyes and grips his cock harder, trying to distract himself with other thoughts of her. Like how her face must look when he brings her to climax, the walls of her pussy tightening all around him, screaming his name only. Crying out for him to let her cum, just like how his victims used to cry out for him to let them live.

His eyes open wide and he lets go of his cock. It twitches, waiting for him to finish it off, but he’ll be damned if he cums to the thought of Y/N & murder, no matter how much his body wants it. He gets up and goes to take a cold shower, letting the icy water hit his skin as he feels the heat in his lower area die out. He combs a hand through his wet hair, wishing he could just be a normal guy that can think only of a girl and not what she’d look like with blood spray painted all over her body. The only reason he’s thinking of her like that is because of how close in contact they had been today, so he decides to simply stay clear of her. If he puts some distance between them, these perverted thoughts will stop, and he can go back to his life of solitude, focusing only on ridding the world of the truly filthy.

He steps out of the shower, grabs his phone, and texts her a small reply along with a simple ‘goodnight’. Getting back to planning his next kill, the images of his upcoming casualty washes his mind’s images of Y/N.

…

Kyle gets to work early at 8 the next morning, intent on staying shut up in his office and avoiding Y/N as much as physically possible. But that doesn’t mean he can stay away from her mentally, with every inch of his mind being infected with the thought of her. How’s he this enamored by a girl he met yesterday? He tries to keep busy with work, succeeding until 9:15, when his sleepy eyes tell him it’s time to get some coffee. Stepping out of his office, he’s determined to get his drink while keeping his eyes firmly planted on the ground so as to not have to make even the slightest eye contact with her. Unfortunately, he didn’t account for his ears, and his head snaps towards her direction when she calls out his name.

“Kyle! Thank god, I wasn’t sure if you’d be in yet. Do you mind taking a look at this? Sam & I have no idea how serious the damage is, and how much it ruins my chances of working today.”

Kyle walks towards them to see Y/N is sitting down next to a tilted desk, while Sam is standing above her inspecting the splintered leg that made it that way.

“Yeah dude, I have no idea what made it snap like this, maybe just being out of use for so long or something,” Sam says, sighing. “The company we normally get all our office stuff from says they can deliver a new one, but it’s only gonna come tomorrow. That means the main issue is where the hell Y/N’s gonna work until then.”

“Yeah,” she interjects. “There’s no empty desks out here, and I said I could work on the receptionist one with Sam but he called it ‘unprofessional’.”

Sam bickers with her about how unbecoming it is for the first thing visitors of the firm to see is all her papers scattered across his desk, while she asks him if he would rather her just work on the floor instead. But Kyle knew that they were skirting around the obvious answer, so he offers it for them.

“She’ll come work with me until the desk arrives. I’m her senior after all, I’ll be the one looking after her,” he tells Sam, before turning to Y/N, who’s looking up at him with those pure eyes of hers. “Pack up your stuff and follow me.”

He leaves before she can thank him and curses under his breath. So much for avoiding her.

…

Getting her set up takes no time, and soon enough every time he looks up from his papers or computer, there she is. For the most part, she’s pretty quiet, getting along with her stuff from yesterday. But around two hours in, her gaze breaks from her work and drifts up to Kyle’s, and despite avoiding eye contact, he feels his face start to heat up. He hates being the center of someone’s attention, and is thankful when her eyes wander more upwards. They settle on the bookshelf above Kyle’s desk, where he keeps a couple books to read whenever things are slow at the office. She gets up from her seat and walks over, so close that Kyle can smell the shampoo she used on her hair that morning. He awkwardly tries to turn away, especially since she’s now having trouble reaching her desired book and he’s inches away from her chest. He can’t bear it anymore and abruptly stands up and grabs the book, only to come dangerously close to brushing his lips against hers. He can feel the heat radiating from her body, and she’s looking at him with those damn eyes again. She tilts her head up and for a second he can’t remember his own name, but she grabs the book from his hand and he comes back down to earth.

“Sorry, I hope you don’t mind. I was just admiring your office when I saw you have Pride & Prejudice by Jane Austen on your shelf. This used to be my favorite book in high school and to be honest, I didn’t think any guy would actually own it,” she says, a small smile on her lips as she looks him up and down, eyes full with curiosity,

“Oh yeah,” Kyle replies, turning away to hide his blush. “I found it at a garage sale when I was 16, which is probably why it’s a little worn. Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay,” she replies, sitting back down in her seat. “I love worn books. I never got the whole thing of keeping them preserved in plastic cases. Books are meant to be read, over and over again until the words are ingrained in your mind. If they get a little damaged along the way, so be it. I like to think it gives them character.”

“Do you feel that way about everything?” Kyle asks. He knows he shouldn’t be engaging in a conversation with her, but every new fact he learns about her only makes him hungry for more.

“I guess,” she says while flipping through the book. “I know it sounds a little cliché, but I want a full life. Full of adventure, excitement, love…”

He notices her voice falls off after that last word, and thinks back to what she told him last night.

“I’m sure you’ll find it. I know dating in your early 20s seems like a lost cause, but it gets easier to get a partner. Everyone deserves to love and be loved. Especially a girl like you,” he says without thinking. His eyes widen slightly while debating whether to try backpedal and take it back, but her head tilts as she looks at him with a confused expression.

“Oh, I didn’t know you had a partner.” Her eyebrows knit together, and he swears he sees her lips tug downwards.

“OH NO. I mean, no, I don’t have a partner. Or anyone. Not that I’m lonely,” he replies, feeling the blush creep back up onto his cheeks. “I’m not lonely. I’ve had, like, companionship. A lot. Not like a lot actually. A little bit. When I was younger and more attractive.” Fuck, why can’t he stop talking? He’s normally so collected, what is she doing to him? “I just mean I haven’t had anything serious,” He sighs, wrapping a hand around the back of his neck, trying to calm the burning sensation he feels.

“I think you’re still attractive,” she says nonchalantly, and gets back to skimming Jane Austen. He has no reply to that, and buries his face back into his computer in hopes she won’t compare it to a tomato. They stay silent for the next hour, until she snaps the book shut, making Kyle flinch out of pure unpreparedness.

“Let’s get some lunch.” She says, more like a command. Kyle normally takes his lunch break whenever he’s finished with that morning’s work, which is around 1-2. But with Y/N in the room with him, he ends up working faster than ever, so he grabs his coat and joins her.

…

They step out into the soft summer air, which breezes past them as they walk down the street.

“I’m in the mood for burgers. Do you know any good places near here?” Y/N asks.

“Yeah, we could go to Pete’s. He’s the only guy around who can make a good burger that’s still kosher. But it’s a cart so there’s nowhere to sit. If you wanna sit down and eat, I would say Sienna’s. It’s a small diner tucked away on 68th street with a really nice atmosphere, plus they serve stuff other than burgers if you change your mind.”

“Sienna’s sounds good, but you spoil me with choice. How long have you lived here?”

“I moved here after three years of college, so I was around 21? I think I'm the same age as you are now actually.”

"Close, but I'm 23. Took a gap year before going to law school. I only moved a couple months ago into an apartment building near (your lucky number) street, mainly because it's my lucky number. But I guess I still have a lot to learn about the city, maybe you can show me around your favorite spots sometime?”

His heart beats a little faster. Is she asking him out on a date? A soft smile appears on his lips, before turning his eyes to the floor and muttering a ‘sure’. He’s still awkwardly gazing at his shoes when her phone rings. She initially cancels the call, something that pleases him more than he should let it, but when it rings a couple more times she excuses herself and answers. He can’t hear who’s on the other line, but her tone turns from happy to anxious the more they talk.

“Hello? Hey, why are you calling me? You’re where?? What the hell are you doing there? I told you I’d- Fuck. Okay, you can’t be there alone, I’m on my way,” she says, before cutting the call and turning to Kyle with an apologetic smile.

“I’m so sorry, that was my date from last night. I have no idea how or why but he’s at my apartment right now. I have to go.”

“You have no idea why he’s at your apartment? Are you sure it’s safe to go back there alone? I mean, you only met the guy last night. I can come with-” Kyle begins, but Y/N cuts him off.

“Oh, he’s harmless, don’t worry. But thanks. Raincheck on lunch? I’ll pay for it next time, my treat for leaving you high and dry like this.” Her voice is frantic, and Kyle tells her go before she spontaneously combusts.

“Thank you so so much. I promise I’ll take you out soon!” She says, practically running away from him back to her home.

He sighs, before realizing his appetite is gone and decides to make the journey back to the office.

…

Kyle's worried about her. He's been sitting at his desk for the past 10 minutes, and he just can't find the willpower to open his computer. He keeps looking up to where she used to sit, always hoping she might have the powers of teleportation and will be there, reading his book. He gets up and faces the chair she was sitting on the other way, so he can finally get back to his job, but his thoughts of work seem to keep floating to back to Y/N. He wonders why she was so panicked, whether she was able to get safely back home, how she's doing etc. He debates texting her to ask, but she's probably busy dealing with something else right now. Plus, he shouldn't be checking up on the girl he's meant to be avoiding. He takes long strides across the lengths of his office while his mind goes into overdrive trying to figure out what to do now. Ignoring her until these feelings of his go away is the best option, but the memory of the way he felt near her today... Just being in her presence sent his heart racing. It was a rush that he thought he could only get from killing, and there's no way he could give that up. He stops walking and looks around him. Why does this room feel so empty all of a sudden?

Please don't let it be because she's not here, he thinks, but the gnawing feeling he's right prompts him to leave the building altogether.

He steps out and wonders if some food would help him feel better. Or an entire packet of cigarettes. He hasn't smoked since middle school, but he'd be willing to try anything to stop the ache he feels. He starts drudging down the block towards the nearest convenience store, when something lying in the bushes catches his eye. A neon pink bike he would recognize anywhere with a couple scratches and a flat tire looks back at him. He picks it up and inspects it, making sure it really is hers. A broken padlock confirms his suspicions, that someone must have stolen it before one of the wheels deflated, then dumped it in the shrubs beside them thinking no one would notice. Kyle can even see the small etching Y/N made of her initials alongside a love heart in the handlebar of the bike, and smiles to himself. She’ll be so happy to have this back. But how the hell am I gonna get it to her?

The back wheel tire is flat, so riding it back to the office is out of the question. And even if he could get it back, he doesn’t have any security equipment to keep it safe, which means it’s probably just gonna get stolen again. Another possibility would be to go to her apartment and just give it back. He knows which building she lives in, and sure it’s a little far, but if he takes an extra long lunch break, he’ll have enough time to walk there and back.

Going to her home is really the only option, he reasons in his mind, ignoring how feverish he feels about seeing where she lives. And if her date’s there, so what? He’ll just meet the guy, see that he’s a creep and convince Y/N he’s not good enough for her, then go back to work. Very efficient of him, solving two of his problems at once. So he strolls on over to her apartment, the bike being dragged alongside him, while he practically whistles with delight.

…

Arriving at her building fills him with the same sensation he felt when he gave her a ride home. Like they were becoming closer, spiritually. The place she lives isn’t that great however, with such lackluster security Kyle is able to just walk right in. He runs into the landlord and asks what number apartment Y/N is staying in. He kind of hopes that the woman won’t tell him, but he must look trustable as she relays the info to him without question. He gets into the elevator and pushes the button to her floor, while making a mental note that he should remind Y/N to complain about that. I’m just returning something that belonged to her, imagine if I was someone who actually wanted to do her harm. Like her asshole date. He realizes he’ll be meeting that guy in a couple seconds, so he runs his hand through his thick red hair, praying that it doesn’t look too unruly from walking all the way here in the summer wind. The elevator doors open and he walks towards her number, but stops when he’s only a couple feet away. Is that…?

He walks closer to get a better look, and comes face to face with his childhood best friend. Stan’s hair had been dyed back to black from the blonde Kyle remembers from last seeing him in high school, and he wasn’t wearing his signature blue and red jacket + matching beanie, opting for a more professional look. He seemed much more clean-cut, and Kyle could barely recognize him. He still remembered Kyle though, eyes widening upon seeing him and his mouth forming a giant smile.

“Kyle Broflovski, no fucking way. Dude, it’s been years. Nice to see you’ve picked up cycling again, even if your bike is a little gay. How are you?”

Kyle’s eyes dart from Stan’s face to the door number behind him. What the hell is he doing here? Out of all the places in the world, what the hell is he doing here? And despite the fact that he has a million questions for the man who used to be his best friend, only one comes to mind.

“Are you here to see Y/N?” His voice remains calm as he asks this, careful not to show any emotion until he hears what Stan has to say.

“Y/N? Oh yeah, she’s inside. I think we're about to leave though, so she told me to wait out here while she gets ready.”

Stan’s her date. Stan’s her date from last night. Stan Marsh, the guy who he once threatened to kill Jesus for, is dating Y/N. His Y/N. His stomach drops to the floor while his heart sinks even further. But she’s not his Y/N. She’s seeing someone else, and looking at Stan right now, all he can see is red. He needs to get out of here before he does something drastic like let his Jersey side come out, or worse, his serial killing side, so he lets go of the bike and practically runs back to the elevator. Stan calls after him, but Kyle’s ears are ringing and he feels sick. He rushes out of the building and vomits into a nearby trash can. He tries to inhale air in order to keep calm, but he’s forgotten how to breathe. He stills remembers how to walk though, and his legs take him all the way back to his own apartment and sit him down on his couch while his mind tries to catch up. The only images running through his mind are of Y/N and Stan, and all of them make him want to hurl his guts out onto the rug beneath his feet.

He can’t fucking believe Stan. Or Y/N. How the fuck are they compatible in the slightest way? The Stan he knew in middle school, sure. That Stan was kind, compassionate, always trying to be the peacemaker when things got out of hand. But the Stan he knew when he left South Park was an alcoholic tool who maxed out his daddy’s credit card at the liquor store every Friday night to try and fill the emptiness that came from being a dick who used other people to get what he wants. Sure, he might look more put together 6 years later, but guys like that don’t just change. What does Y/N see in him?

That’s when Kyle realizes he didn’t know what Y/N saw in Stan. Because he didn’t know Y/N. Y/N was a girl he met two days ago when she became his junior lawyer, and no matter how gorgeous or smart or adorable she was, she would always remain just that. His junior lawyer. Even if Stan wasn’t in the picture, he won’t have a chance with her anyways, so why waste his time? Besides, there are more valuable things he could be doing. Or more unvaluable people he could be eliminating.

He walks over to his computer and looks at the recent casualty he’s been researching. It says that he’ll be attending a fancy dinner party with all his corrupt friends, so they can laugh about how easy it is to fuck over the helpless. Kyle sets to work on getting an invitation, because in his mind, all the thoughts of Y/N are being replaced with the ones of him killing that man and whoever stands in his way.

[alovelyfox]

Chapter 1 : Split Blood and Coffee

Killing wasn't something that came naturally to Kyle. It took a lot of work, both mentally and physically, to block out the moral compass he'd had since middle school in order to get the job done. He always made sure the death was quick and painless, no matter how much the casualty deserved it. He didn't like to call them victims as in his mind, that word was reserved for helpless people who had no idea about what was coming. The people that Kyle killed did, and that's why they earned the punishment he gave them.

He had never planned to become a killer. He was smart, the smartest out of his redneck town of South Park. He was gonna make it out of there with a full scholarship into the most prestigious school in the country, and become a human rights lawyer to make the world a better place. But a few years of doing that destroyed any hope he had left for humanity. Day in, day out, he would fight for the little guy, and every time the politicians and businessmen with more money and power would crush him. He would come home defeated and distraught at his inability to do anything to help. So, he took matters into his own hands.

It started a year ago. He had just lost a case to a particularly sleazy fellow lawyer who had raped his secretary, but due to her not having the proper paperwork and him greasing the hands of the judge, he wasn't charged. The man had no remorse, and that night at a nearby bar Kyle overheard him brag about how that girl wasn't the first and he planned to hire 'another piece of ass that I can tap then send back over the border when she gets boring'. Kyle couldn't take it, so that night he followed the man home and waited until he fell asleep. Kyle had never planned to kill him, maybe rough him up enough to get him to leave the country. But seeing how soundly he slept after ruining that poor woman's life snapped something inside of him. He took the sharpest knife he could find and made several quick plunges into the man's heart. Apart from the blood pooling around him and the several stab wounds in his body, the man looked exactly as he did when he was sleeping. Kyle took the knife and ran back home, his adrenaline catching up before his mind did. He only realized what he had done when he was back home safe in his apartment, his hand gripping the knife so hard he was sure it's handle print would be carved into his skin. He spent the next month agonizing over what he'd done, or more importantly, how good he felt doing it. Eliminating scum like him from the world was exactly why he'd become a human-rights lawyer in the first place, and now he had found a way to do it permanently.

Since then, there have been a handful of others. People the world would be better without. He made sure to pick casualties that he would felt no remorse over, and then took them out. It was painful work, and not just the physical aspect of murder. The constant justifying as to why he had to do what he did, it exhausted him to no end. He grappled with it everyday, along with the restless anxiousness of being caught. Since that first kill, he made sure that nothing could be traced back to him, from shoving on boots double his size to wearing wigs in order to hid his unruly (noticeable) red hair. Still, sometimes he wondered if it would really be the worst thing to be sent to prison for his crimes.

His parents would be distraught, but since moving out of his hometown he didn't see them that much anyways. The only family member he kept in touch with was his little brother Ike, who even then only came to visit him when he needed a break from school. Kyle appreciated these visits, and decided that he would give Ike his apartment if the cops ever came knocking. He was the only other person who even came to it nowadays. He didn't have any friends in the city. He thought he would be lifelong friends with his South Park buddies like Stan Marsh and Kenny McCormick, and he wished he could blame his declining mental state from the killings on it, but the honest truth was that they just lost touch. At the end of senior year Stan had stayed in South Park, while Kenny had fucked off to who knows where the minute he turned 18 to get away from his abusive parents. He hadn't heard from either in years, and while sometimes his fingers lingered on their phone numbers when he was feeling extra miserable with the world, he never saw the point. They would exchange pleasantries, reminisce about their childhood nostalgia for a couple minutes, and upon realizing that they no longer had anything in common, hang up. It wasn't worth the effort. Nothing was worth it anymore, apart from the killings.

He still worked at a law firm however, which had recently hired a new junior lawyer who he was supposed to 'mentor'. He heard she had graduated top of her class and made the Dean's List. Anyone with her achievements was surely sought after by much more high-paying firms, so despite not knowing her, he found it admirable that she had decided to go into human rights. He wanted to be excited to meet her that fateful morning, but he barely registered joy as an emotion anymore. The only time he ever felt anything was the rush of adrenaline he got from removing the dirt that roamed the earth. Plus, he had spent the night stalking researching a potential casualty, and finding out all the shitty things the person he was destined to kill had done always depressed him. So he stopped by a coffee cart before going into work. He had just been handed his usual when it was splashed all over his shirt. A young woman on a neon pink bike had just crashed into him, toppling them both to the ground. Neither were hurt, but she acted like she had accidentally maimed him.

"I am so so so sorry, are you alright? Oh god, please don't be mad at me or anything. I swear it was just an accident, sometimes I get lost in my thoughts when riding, and then shit like this happens. I'm so sorry once again. Here, I'll pay for a replacement coffee, and I'll pay for you to get a bagel because your shirt looks really expensive and I really don't want you to ask me to pay for that".

She was talking and moving at 100 miles an hour, so much so that by the time he'd gotten up, she'd paid the owner of the cart and was back on her bike again. Her helmet was about 2x the size of her head, Kyle was surprised she could see clearly under there. Or considering she'd just crashed into him, maybe not. His eyebrows were burrowed together in confusion, and she was still talking about how sorry she was, so he leaned in closer and tipped her helmet back so he could see her face properly. He had done that so he could reassure her not to worry about the coffee, but he was so taken back by her face his mouth just gaped open. She was beautiful, glowing under the soft light of the morning sun. Her lips were slightly parted, like she wanted to say something to him but the words weren't coming out. He was as much gazing into her eyes and she was his, but after a moment hers widened. The look of tenderness she once had was replaced with anxiousness, but Kyle was too dazed by her appearance to offer any kind of comfort.

"I, uhmm, have to go. I'm sorta already late for my first day at my new job, and as cute as you are, we can't spend all day staring at each other".

She fastened the helmet back onto her head, and cycled away from him. He watched her do so, only interrupted from his trance by the owner handing him the coffee and bagel. He grabbed it and headed back on his path to work. The spilt coffee had now dried and made a nasty stain on his shirt, but he had spares in his office. Plus, he didn't care. Only two thoughts were racing through his mind.

I just met the most heavenly woman I've ever seen. And she thinks I'm cute.

[alovelyfox]

Chapter 13: A spark

A poof of red curly hair above the crowd is the only sight that snaps you out of your disassociation. The party was coming along nicely, a lot better than anyone would’ve thought considering the amount of people invited versus the amount here. Yet, none of them faces you recognize. But Wendy’s ecstatic about the turn out, considering how she’s been glued to the grill all day, not letting anyone leave the party without trying her new burger recipe.

“It’s halal and kosher!” She keeps declaring, making you help her hand out plates to any passersby who didn’t already have one. You don’t mind, of course. She was one of three people you even know here, with Stan on the phone in the corner while Butters is waiting in line for the bathroom.

But the entrance of Kyle was enough to pull you out of your soulless stupor, and you can’t help smiling as his eyes search for yours over the hordes of people. He makes his way over, but your grin slightly falters as you see who he has behind him.

Maria. He actually brought her, you think. She hadn’t been mentioned by Kyle since he went out with her for dinner the day you met Ike, but you had heard snippets about their relationship from the rest of the group. You did vaguely remember Stan saying she was invited to come here, and while Stan may say something then do something completely different, it was nice to know Kyle was a little more mature. Even if this was the one time you wish he hadn’t been.

He brings her over and you can’t help skim over her outfit. Very… festive. You couldn’t deny she was an extremely attractive woman, but she looked nothing like you. And if Kyle showing up with a girl your polar opposite wasn’t enough of a signal that he didn’t like you, it was hard to see what was.

“Hey, Wendy, Y/N. This is Maria, my-”

“Friend. I’m his friend,” she says, cutting him off. He gives her a sideward glance, and sighs before pressing his mouth into a thin line.

“I gotta say Wendy, this is a really cool party! I could never host so many people, but you’re making it look easy,” Maria says, giving Wendy an affectionate smile. Wendy slightly blushes at the compliment, but tries to remain a steady face as she gives a modest thank you.

They converse about such and such little more, and as much as you try to help it, your eyes wander towards Kyle. He shifts uncomfortably where he’s standing, all enthusiasm from entering the party forgotten. You wanna ask if he’s okay, but he tugs on Maria’s arm under the guise of introducing her to more people, and drags her away before you can even open your mouth.

Wendy flips a couple patties then turns her attention towards you.

“You alright?” She asks in a soothing tone.

“Of course I am, why wouldn’t I be?”

“Okayy,” she says, averting her gaze back to the grill. “It’s just that, I know you have feelings for Kyle, and he just kinda showed up with another girl. So I thought-”

“Maria said they were just friends, so I’m not too worried,” you reply, and Wendy gives you some serious side eye but smiles and nods. You excuse yourself to get a drink and try to collect your thoughts.

There was no fucking way that Maria and Kyle were just friends. How they walked into the party holding hands, how comfortable Kyle was touching her, the way she barely resisted when he grabbed her arm and pulled her away. Fuck. But she said they were just friends, and you would rather believe that lie than face the truth, that the chances of you and Kyle getting together were getting slimmer and slimmer.

You grab a beer and let the liquid flow down your throat, trying to numb the ache in your heart. It works, while making the dance floor look more and more attractive. You gulp the rest of the bottle and set it on the table before making your way to the heart of the party as it blazes around you.

You have never been one for dancing, but the nervousness loosens as the bass pumps through your bones, making you dull to your surroundings. Yet you still feel the piercing green stare of a certain red-head watching you through the crowds, his eyes not leaving your body for a second as he intently watches you glide across the dance floor. Maria’s sitting beside him, looking bored and ready for a distraction, yet none comes as her ‘friend’ can’t tear his gaze away from you.

…

The party carries on, with you trying your best to avoid Kyle. The way he was watching you out there an hour ago ignites all your five senses, and you’d much rather ignore him than figure out what it meant. However, the universe decides it wants a little entertainment, and when you go to sit down and take a break from dancing, you find yourself sitting next to an inattentive Maria.

Shit.

“Maria, hi!” You open the conversation with, as not saying anything feels rude considering she’s done nothing wrong other than date your potential future husband.

“Oh, Y/N! Hey, I’ve heard so much about you from Kyle, sorry we didn’t get much of a chance to talk when he introduced us,” she exclaims, and you try not to let the fact that he talks about you to his girlfriend get your hopes up.

“Oh yeah, he mentions you all the time as well,” you lie, and a look of sadness sweeps across her face.

“He does? Oh…. You know, he told me you two work together at the law firm. I always thought lawyers were hot, with their big briefcases and fancy suits.”

You can’t help but laugh out loud at her suggestion. “You’re thinking of corporate lawyers, we’re not that. Nah, unless you find permanent raccoon eyes and working late hours hot, I don’t know what you’d see in Kyle.”

“You’re right, I’m just using him for his body,” she replies with a wink, and you choke on some air at her sudden bluntness.

“Yeah, I mean, I guess his body is fine,” you stammer out. “But I don’t know, I really like how passionate he gets about the things he cares about, how he’s kind to everyone he meets, the respect he shows-”

You cut yourself off when you realize how weird this sounds, rattling off all the things you loved about Kyle to the girl he was sleeping with. She tilts her head slightly in confusion, then gives you a soft smile.

“Funny, those sound like the same things he said he liked about you.”

You stand up suddenly and excuse yourself, trying to avoid her gaze so she won’t see the heat steadily creeping up on your face. Making your way back onto the dance floor, you find Wendy, who Stan’s managed to pry away from the grill, and dance with her, wishing the thoughts of Kyle away.

…

The setting sun signals the end of the party, and most people drift back home. Your bladder makes the decision to retire from the floor and go upstairs to relieve yourself. You take the lock off the bathroom, something you put there to stop the entire city from flooding your toilet. Finishing up, you’re about to go back down when a ray of light hits your face from an open window. The gentle breeze flowing in causes you to rest your arm on the windowsill and simply stare out into the horizon, it’s glowing aura drawing you in. You feel almost sleepy, but rising voices from below startle you awake.

“Maria, please.”

The unmistakable sound of Kyle makes you stop breathing, and you can tell from his pleading tone that this is probably a conversation they’d like to have in private. Yet, your feet won’t drag you away, your body too curious to hear what they’re gonna say to each other. So you duck down, knees bent to be up to your chin, and listen in.

“If you have something you want to say, be direct,” Maria says, the harshness of her voice indicating that she’s disgruntled.

“It’s just… It’s annoying that you introduced yourself as my friend to everyone today. I thought inviting you here was my way of saying that I wanted to be more than that. More than ‘just friends’.”.

“Kyle, you knew that this was always meant to be a casual thing. We both planned for it to be, anyways.”

“Well, plans change. My feelings have changed, at least, I don’t want to be just a casual thing anymore.”

She scoffs, and her next words come out in such a humorous voice she sounds like she’s saying a joke.

“Have your feelings for that Y/N girl changed?”

You slightly gasp at the sudden mention of your name, then clamp your hand over your mouth to avoid making any further sound. Kyle’s silence to Maria’s question causes her to continue.

“God, I was around you guys not even a full day, yet even I can see there’s something between the two of you, whether you wanna admit it or not. And no matter how hard you try to force a relationship between us, in reality all you’ll ever really want is ‘something casual’ until you can have something more serious with her.”

All three of you are silent for a moment, then Kyle mutters something you can barely make out.

“It’s not like that.”

Maria sighs, and you can hear the disappointment in her voice.

“I’m gonna go. Thank you for everything Kyle, truly. But delete my number from your phone, and fucking ask that poor girl out already.”

You make out her softly walking away and Kyle crumbling to the floor, the image of what his anguished face must look like embedded into your mind, despite how you can’t even see him from where you’re sitting. It causes your body to jump into action as you rush out of the bathroom and fly down the stairs, desperately searching for Wendy. You find her dancing with Stan, her arms lovingly wrapped around his neck as his own cradles her waist. You pause, wondering if it’s the best idea to interrupt this tender moment with your own worries, but Stan’s hands start to travel down to Wendy’s ass and you decide to separate the two before the dance floor turns into an orgy.

Disregarding Stan’s cries of annoyance, you grab Wendy’s hand and drag her inside.

“What the fuck is going on?” She asks, obviously sensing your panicked manner.

You let it all pour out of you, all of what you heard during your sneaky eavesdropping on Kyle and Maria. You feel ashamed that you were privy to one of your best friends' most private moments, but when you finish the retelling, Wendy has an excited look on her face.

“Y/N. This is it. This is your opportunity.”

The confused look on your face urges her to grab you by the hands and pull you back outside, a couple feet away from where Kyle is sitting with his head tucked between his knees and his hands on the back of his neck. The air around him reeks of dejection, but Wendy doesn’t seem to care.

“Girl, this is your chance,” she whispers in your ear. “Tell him how you feel right now.”

You start to voice your lack of approval with what she wants you to do, but she doesn’t wanna hear it, instead pushing you towards him and subsequently running away.

You mentally wish a thousand curses on her family, then take a seat beside Kyle. His head hangs low between his slightly parted legs, so you unconsciously pat him on the back, trying to reassure him everything’s gonna be fine. He softly turns his head to the side, his eyes gradually opening until they go wide upon realizing who you are. He abruptly stands up and takes several steps back from you.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?”

You also decide to stand, and clear your throat to tell him what you know. But his expression resembles one of a deer caught in headlights, and fearing that the truth might send him running, you lie.

“Oh, I was just, uhhh… Well I noticed that you and Maria had been gone for a while, and I’d wondered where the two of you had gotten to. Or if you’d decided to leave without saying goodbye.”

He sighs, then rakes a hand through his curls.

“She left. Sorry.”

“Oh,” you say, feigning disappointment. “Well, I really liked having her.”

“That’s too bad, considering she probably won’t be around anymore.”

“Sorry,” you mutter, shifting uncomfortably on your spot.

He scoffs.

“Why? You barely knew her.”

“Kyle,” you say, giving him an indicative look. “I’m not an idiot, I know you two weren’t ‘just friends’.”.

He sighs again, before turning his eyes towards the ground.

“Well, apparently that’s all we were to her.”

You take a step towards him, and put on an encouraging smile.

“Don’t worry. You’ll find someone right for you one day.”

He looks at you through his knitted eyebrows, then takes a step towards you, closing the gap so you’re both only a foot away from one another.

“So what do I do if I already found that… someone right?”

You feel a shiver crawl up your spine from the intensity of his gaze, and gulp.

“Kyle,” you say delicately. “I know you’re hurting right now, but I don’t wanna just be some rebound girl that you use to get over the one you actually want.”

He exhales, then stares at you directly, as if he needs what he’s about to say to be engraved in your mind for all eternity.

“Don’t you get it? You’re the one I want.”

You try to turn your head and look anywhere but his pleading eyes.

“You don’t know what you’re saying,” you murmur, but he ignores your words and takes your face in his hand, then leans in closer so that his mouth is inches away from your ear.

“Y/N,” he says, whispering your name like a prayer. He looks at you head on as his gaze searches your face for any resemblance of affection, which you can’t help but give him. His pupils flicker from your eyes to your lips, and every cell in your body feels electric as you close your eyes when he leans in.

BANG! BANG BANG BANG!

Were those… fireworks? You didn’t think you and Kyle kissing would have this crazy of an impact, but upon realizing that your lips haven’t actually made contact yet, you open your eyes and look up as the sky blooms a specter of color.

Oh shit, actual fireworks .

They decorate the night sky with a symphony of flames, long enough to distract Kyle and for your mind to wrap itself around the moment. You decide to do what Wendy asks and take the opportunity, lightly kissing him on the cheek before his eyes turn back to you.

“I hope you find that someone right Kyle. I really do.”

He opens his mouth but you walk away before he can utter a single word, reveling in the adrenaline pumping through your blood.

…

Butters, Wendy, and Stan are sitting on a picnic blanket on the grass, while some blond guy wearing an orange shirt is lighting up the sky with some shitty fireworks. You stand still, uncertain as to who he is, but Kyle comes up behind you and clears up any confusion.

“KENNY?”

The name sounds familiar, and when he turns around, you immediately recognize his blue eyes and messy blond hair. This was Kenny McCormick, one of Kyle’s best friends from South Park. You had to admit however, he looked slightly different without an orange parka covering half his face.

Kyle runs to hug his estranged friend, while Stan jumps up from the blanket.

“SURPRISE!” He yells. “Didn’t I tell you I’d have a killer special guest Kyle? Well, Kenny told me he’s in town, and I thought, fuck, how cool would it be if you guys met again at MY fourth of July party? So, surprise!”

“You mean our fourth of July party,” Wendy reminds him, standing up and ushering you over to meet the esteemed guest.

“Y/N, this is Kenny. Kenny, Y/N.”

You shake his hand, getting a good look at his pierced face.

“Holy shit, I’ve always wanted a lip ring just like that!” You exclaim, and his face lights up.

“No way! Get some ice and a needle, I’ll give you one right now.”

You laugh. “Maybe another time. Right now though, I kinda need to borrow Wendy and Butters if you don’t mind?”

You notice his face drop slightly when you mention wanting to take Butters with you girls, but he agrees, saying it’ll be a good opportunity to catch up with the boys. So you drag the two inside, then give one last glance to Kyle, who meets your eyes with a fond smile. You return it along with a wink, and the blush on his face is enough to make your heart beat a little faster.

[alovelyfox]

Chapter 11: A New Face

You had always thought that a spontaneous life was a good life, but routine seemed to suit you nicely. Wendy and Stan had made up after their fight, so everyday you wake up to her moans, and while you’re as sex-positive as they come, you really wish you had spent some more money soundproofing your walls. Sure, it was awkward, but the idea of another argument happening between them because of something you say causes you to keep your mouth shut.

Plus, if you’re being completely honest, you didn’t mind the extra ‘romance’, especially coupled with how things were going with Kyle. The story about your late best friend Aminda was one you had repressed for a long time, despite the fact it was the reason you had even gone into human rights law in the first place. But sharing it with Kyle reminded you about what you were both fighting for, and made you closer than ever.

A week ago he said it was getting too hot for you to keep cycling to and from work, so he offered to start picking/dropping you off, which you happily accepted. Even though you knew nothing was ever going to happen due to the difference in your positions, it still excited you that he cares enough about your wellbeing that he’s willing to waste some extra money on gas.

Normally, Kyle arrives at your place at 8:45 am on the dot, as you learned that punctuality was an important value he cherished. And though you didn’t want to admit it, you had started getting ready earlier, if not to impress him to some degree. You’re standing outside your apartment building on a fine summer's morning, waiting patiently for your ride. But 8:45 comes and goes, yet he isn’t there.

Odd, you think, but you give him the benefit of the doubt and decide it’s probably traffic or something that’s making him late. You hum a song you’d heard Wendy playing late last night on her vinyl player, then begin to tap your foot impatiently along to the tune as 9 am creeps closer with no sign of Kyle. It’s 9:05 when his car flies by so fast that you have to take a step back to avoid getting blown away by the gust it creates. He gets out and hurriedly rushes over to you, holding onto your shoulders as his eyes look over your body.

“Fuck Y/N, are you okay?” He asks in a panicked voice, slightly panting. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s fine Kyle,” you say, and afraid it came out harsher than you meant for it to, you give him a reassuring smile, which seems to relax him. He lets go of your shoulders and nods, before opening the car door for you. He closes it behind you once you’re in, then gets in on his side and lightly rests his head on the wheel.

“I’m so sorry I’m late, I hope you weren’t waiting too long.”

He turns his head and looks into your eyes with a truly apologetic stare, which makes it harder for you to lie through your teeth.

“Oh no, I was late waking up, so you actually came just in time!”

He smiles, before starting up the car.

“I was late for the dumbest reason too. My little brother’s coming to visit in a couple days, and it’s my mom’s birthday today, so I went to a flower shop to get something nice that he could give to her. But I lost track of time trying to pick out the right bouquet.”

Finding out that Kyle cares so much for his mom makes your heart swoon, and all the previous anger you felt being stuck on the sidewalk evaporates.

“What’d you end up picking?” You ask, mainly wanting to know what his taste in flowers was, and if it matched your own.

“Oh, that’s the worst part. I didn’t even end up buying it. I couldn’t find the particular kind my mom likes, even though Maria tried her best to provide some alternatives. Luckily, she said that the store could get some in stock for tomorrow, if I can stick around long enough to pay for them.”

He smiles fondly, and you can feel your heart twitch. You understand that in a relationship, there needs to be a strong level of trust between you and your partner to ensure that the other won’t be unfaithful. But Kyle didn’t need to be faithful to you in the first place, since you weren’t in a relationship. Of course you understand this. Of course, of course, of course. So why did him mentioning her name hurt so much?

Maybe there was something primitive being awakened inside of you. Once Kyle was yours, you could rest easy that no one would come between you two. But until that day, every other girl was the enemy. Yet, who knows when ‘that day’ will happen, if ever? It’s not like Kyle’s aware of your feelings, and you can’t confess to them anytime soon, so he’s free to talk to and date and marry whoever he wants, something you’ll just have to suck up.

Putting on a complacent face, you smile at him, then revert to looking through the window so he can’t see the ice forming on your heart.

…

It’s also become routine for you and Butters to have lunch together, since Kyle’s too busy to ‘have lunch with us blue-collar working folk’, as Butters so eloquently puts it. You don’t know if you’d say it was exactly like that, but you didn’t care since it’d been nice having someone else to interact with in the office other than him. You had been so wrapped up in him the first couple weeks that you neglected to make friends with anyone else other than Sam, and when he left you were almost made a complete outcast whenever Kyle wasn’t around, until Butters came along to save the day. Or ruin the day, as his childhood alter ego Profession Chaos, that he told you about during one of your lunchtime chats.

You could tell Butters felt homesick about South Park, which made sense considering it was the only place he’d ever known before moving here. So you let him ramble on with his stories, normally just nodding along and taking in all the details as he describes the time they almost reignited the Civil War by letting the confederacy win. But today you put in a request.

“Hey, did Kyle ever have any girlfriends back home?”

You have to admit, it’s slightly inspired by the girl he mentioned this morning. But if Butters is surprised by the sudden question, he doesn’t show it. The only thing you can tell from his face is that he’s deep in thought, until he replies.

“I guess there were a couple chicks. Rebecca Cotswold, but she ended up being a big ol’ whore, so Kyle cut her off after they kissed. Maybe Bebe? But she only wanted him for his ass. Hmm, I think he had a crush on Nicole for a little, but she got with Tolkien instead... Huh, that's weird. I don’t think Kyle’s ever had a real girlfriend.”

He gives you a puzzling look.

“You don’t think he’s gay, do ya?”

You think back to the incident in the kitchen a couple weeks ago.

“Definitely not gay,” you pronounce, turning your head slightly to the side so Butters won’t see your face heating up.

“Well, I guess I was only really close with him in middle school, and then the only thing we did was go to school, play basketball, and occasionally tell everyone our parents molested us.”

“Hey, sometimes we’d watch TV,” Kyle says, suddenly appearing behind you. Turning around, you wonder how long he’d been there. Hopefully not long enough to hear you say you knew he definitely wasn’t gay. Fuck.

“Oh right! Terrance and Phillip…” Butters says, and both the boys fall silent as they seemingly reminisce on the show which shaped so much of their childhood. You watch them, then eventually clear your throat to get Butters to continue.

“Hey, I hear there’s a new movie coming out on the Canadian Network. You plannin’ to watch, Kyle?”

“I would love to, but I don’t have access to that channel.”

The name sounds familiar, and you ask if it also used to show that series, Crème Fraiche . Both the boys nod, and you instantly realize where you know it from.

“Oh my god, the Canadian Network! It was like the only channel Wendy and I could get working when we first moved in, so goddamn annoying. Neither of us wanna touch it with a ten-foot pole now, but if you guys want, you can come over and use it to watch the movie,” you offer with a smile, and the boys break out into matching grins.

They agree, and you text Wendy.

Y/N - hey girl, is it cool if we lend our tv to kyle and butters tonight?

Y/N - they wanna watch some movie which is apparently only streaming on that fucking canadian channel we could’t get rid of lol

Wendy 🖤 - u mean terrance & phillip? actually, stan wanted to watch that with me tonight as well, please get them to come over so I don’t have to suffer through 90 minutes of fart jokes alone 😭

Y/N liked a message ❤️

…

Empty pizza boxes scatter around the living room, with half-drunken cups of soda standing on the wooden coasters Wendy made everyone use. The both of you are strewn out on the couch, while the boys are huddled in front of the TV like they’re 10 years old again. They’re relatively quiet while the movie plays, only laughing every couple minutes when a fart joke happens. You and Wendy want to be embarrassed by their immaturity, but as soon as the Queef sisters make a special appearance, they’re suddenly the one’s looking over at you disgusted. Overall, the night was shaping up to be one of your favorites. Something about it felt so nostalgic, watching a childish movie with people you care about. You don’t know how to describe it exactly, but you close your eyes, wanting to stay trapped in this memory forever.

Soon enough, the movie ends, and the boys sit back up on the couch. Butters sits alone on one edge, while Wendy and Stan are cuddled up on the other, leaving you and Kyle together in the middle. Too busy talking to notice another movie started playing, you and Wendy simultaneously groan upon seeing what genre it seemed to be. The Canadian Network was notorious for their shitty horror movies, ones that would always let you girls know it was time to turn off the TV and go to bed. You bring this point up, but the boys protest, saying there’s no way it can be that bad if it plays on the same channel as the legendary Terrance & Phillip. Wendy rolls her eyes and tells them they’re about to eat their words in 10 minutes.

The film starts with the cliché scene of the guy and girl making out in a steamy car somewhere isolated, so isolated they don’t see the masked freak coming to attack them. Stan and Kyle groan at how played out the trope is, while Butters is the only person who truly gets jump scared at the murderer killing them. In fact, he yells at every corny twist, which is the only thing keeping the rest of you entertained. Eventually though, he tires out, curls into a ball and falls asleep. Wendy and Stan follow suit not long after, nestled in each other's arms. So now it’s you and Kyle, practically left alone.

You’re sitting fairly close, yet not touching the other, both your arms laid firmly at your sides and feet planted on the floor. This is, until a scare you didn’t expect comes on and you jump up and into Kyle’s arms. You’re holding onto him now, legs across his lap while your hands drape over his neck and chest. He no longer seems interested in the movie, and you can hear his breaths turning slow and deep, probably due to being in such close proximity to you. He wraps an arm around your shoulder, pulling you in closer. You keep your eyes glued to the screen, since you know a simple look in his direction will send you crumbling.

The movie plays, as neither of you dare to make any moves. You stay put, unconsciously cuddled in this comfortable silence, but when a moment of cheap gore comes on, you hide your head in Kyle’s chest as a way to avert your eyes.

He smells good, you think, his signature scent of faint coconut further lulling you into staying wrapped in his arms forever. You sneak a peek up to his face, but it surprises you. Kyle looks like he’s trying to hide that he’s in pain, with his jaw clenched, and eyes staring straight ahead. You move slightly and he murmurs a groan. Upon realizing that you’re watching him, he suddenly lets go of you, prompting you to stand straight up, with him doing the same. The sudden withdrawal of his body from yours sends goosebumps up your skin, but you willfully ignore them as you look at Kyle. He turns his head to the side, avoiding eye contact, as a faint blush appears on his face.

“Uhm, sorry, I-”

“No, I’m sorry,” you say, mentally kicking yourself for accidentally letting things get carried away again, just like in the kitchen. Your eyes unknowingly flit there, and Kyle’s follows yours. It takes him a couple seconds to realize, and he lets out a small cough.

“I, uh, think I’m gonna go. Thanks for having me,” he says, scrambling for the door.

“Oh, uhm, don’t worry about it,” you reply, and he turns around to give you a quick wave before shutting the door behind him, leaving you standing there in his absence.

…

You message Kyle that you don’t need to be picked up that morning, as you want to postpone the awkwardness that’s sure to come after what happened last night. You don’t know why you did what you did, getting so close to him like that. You were even closer than Wendy and Stan, and they’re the ones who are dating, not you two. Everything about Kyle is gorgeous, in such a way you hope to never see him again, for that’s the lesser evil compared to what he makes you feel whenever you’re together.

But, 9 am rolls around and he strolls in. You’re seated firmly at your desk, pretending to look like you’re focused on work, when he comes up behind you and presses both his hands flat on either side of you, so that he's practically leaning over your body. Ignoring him will do more harm than good, so you swivel around in your chair, trying not to focus on how near in proximity you are to each other. His scent triggers your memory of last night, and you gulp as you stare up at him. He seems unaffected by anything you-re currently thinking of, and gives you an easygoing smile.

“Hey Y/N. It was fun last night, right?” He asks, and your eyes slightly widen. What was he saying? Was he seriously talking about what happened? For a guy who looked like he hated every minute of it, he seems surprisingly calm bringing it up. You nod, wondering where he’s going with this, and he continues.

“I haven’t seen Terrence and Phillip in forever, so watching it with friends was super nice. It felt so… relaxing.”

“Oh!” you say, unable to hide your relief over the fact he wasn’t talking about what you thought he was. But thinking back, you realize how loose he was last night when he was around his old South Park friends. More confident, self assured. And as hypnotizing as it was to be around him sometimes, you would never do anything to take those people away from him. “Yeah, it was actually nice hanging out with everyone. We should do it again sometime.”

He flashes you a grin which you take as a yes, so you give him a matching one in return. He stops leaning on your desk and starts walking towards his office when you’re reminded of something.

“Kyle, before I forget, you left your jacket at my place last night.”

His eyebrows slightly burrow together, before he replies.

“Oh, uhm, okay. Do you mind dropping it off at my place after work?”

“Why don’t you come over and get it yourself?” You ask in what was supposed to be a playful tone, but came out unnecessarily dirty.

“I mean, wait. I didn't mean it like that, it’s just-” you say trying to backtrack from how it sounds like you just propositioned him, but he frowns.

“It’s fine,” he says, interrupting your rambling excuses. “I can’t unfortunately, I’m meeting Maria after work so I can pick up the flowers today. My brother’s staying over this weekend, and I wanna get them before the shop closes so he can pass them on to my mom when he returns home. Sorry.”

He takes a piece of paper from your desk and a pen from his pocket to scribble down an address, before handing it to you. You give him a tight smile in return, trying to conceal the emotions you feel after hearing him mention another girl’s name. But it’s not your place to be jealous, so you stuff your feelings deep inside, and take the paper.

…

You pop into his office just before you’re about to leave at 6 pm. It’s later than you thought it would be, and you expect him to already be gone, but he’s working diligently at his desk, not taking his eyes off the screen until you enter.

“Hey Kyle, what’re you still doing here? It’s already 6, shouldn’t you be home by now, or at least getting the flowers?”

He glances at the clock, then at you, then at the clock again as his eyes widen drastically.

“SHIT. AH SHIT. I meant to leave at 5, but I got so caught up in my work that…” He doesn’t finish his sentence as he rushes around the room, collecting all his things. He’s about to push past you to get out but stops and grabs onto your shoulders instead.

“Just in case you get to my place before me, there’s a spare key under the doormat. Take it and let yourself in, I shouldn’t be long.”

He gives you a reassuring smile then hurries out of the office, leaving you standing there in the dust yet again.

…

Jacket in hand, you get to his apartment a little later than need be, purely because the idea of seeing Kyle’s place for the first time without him being present scares the shit out of you. But luck’s not on your side, and when you knock on his door no one answers. Sighing, you pluck the key from under the doormat and jiggle it in until you hear a click, letting it open all menacingly-like. However, his apartment isn’t nearly as terrifying as you expect. In fact, it actually looks quite nice.

Painted a beautiful shade of olive green, it’s not similar to any places owned by guys you’d ever seen before, mainly because this one has actual furniture and not inflatable bean bags strewn everywhere. He has a couple tasteful paintings hung up on the wall, some vibrant plants scattered around, and a nice 50 inch tv in his living room. A few pictures on the mantelpiece above it catch your interest, so you drop the jacket on a nearby chair and go over to take a look.

There’s one of him with one arm draped around the shoulder of some shorter guy, with beady eyes and black hair. A Canadian. From what he’s wearing, it looks like they’re at his high school graduation, him looking extremely embarrassed while Kyle beams proudly at the camera. You smile, then your eyes wander to another picture, this one with a much younger Kyle. He’s with three other guys, one conveniently cropped out of frame. You recognize one of them as Stan, wearing practically the same clothes he was when you first met him, except that in the photo they look like they actually fit him. Another guy is wearing a yellow parka which covers almost his entire face and body, only his eyes visible. And Kyle… his curly red hair is hidden behind a green ushanka, while his crooked teeth are again smiling at the camera. Damn, he looked cute as a kid.

You’re lost in your thoughts when you hear some strange noises coming from one of the bedrooms. You think it was maybe something that fell down, but the noises carry on, and panic sets in when you realize you’re not alone.

Kyle’s been here the entire time? You think. What if he’s been watching me snoop through his old pictures? God, this is so embarrassing.

You make your way to the bedroom, a handful of apologies running through your head that you prepare to give to him for being nosy. But the noises are starting to sound like they’re coming from two people, one more feminine than the other.

Holy shit, is he with a girl? With Maria??

You didn’t realize Kyle was that kind of guy. He mentioned meeting Maria only yesterday, so to already be having sex with her… But were they even having sex? You had to know for sure, the uncertainness clawing at your brain. The door is already slightly ajar, so you try to peek through the gap, but accidentally lean against it and it bursts wide open, causing the two people on the bed to turn and face you.

The girl’s face is one contorted with a mix of pleasure that is slowly turning into fear, while the guy seems unaffected by your presence, giving you a sleazy look as your eyes wander down and you see what he’s currently doing balls deep inside of her. She screams, and you realize you recognize the guy from the picture, his name leaving your mouth in a confused voice.

“Ike?”

“Ike?” The girl repeats, her eyes darting between you and him. “How do you know that girl?”

He looks you up and down. “I don’t. But she obviously knows me, which means she’s welcome to join,” he says with a lazy smirk, which causes the girl to kick herself out of him, standing up to slap him straight across the face. She takes Kyle’s bed sheets to cover herself up, then grabs the rest of her stuff, leaving the room as she mutters something about how she was warned never to date an ice-hockey player.

Ike follows her, still fully naked, a fact you’re trying really hard to ignore. Once she slams the door shut, he turns his attention to you.

“Okay, who the hell are you?” He asks, and you take a deep breath.

“I’m Y/N, a friend of Kyle’s. I’m assuming you’re Ike, his younger brother, right?” He slowly nods, and you continue, keeping your eyes firmly trained on the upper half of his body. “I only came to give something back to him, and I’m assuming he didn’t tell you I was coming.”

“Nah,” he says, before looking you up and down once again. “But if you’d like, I can make sure the entire apartment building knows you’re coming.”

He winks, so you awkwardly laugh. And when his head is turned, you make a beeline for the door and get the fuck out of there.

[alovelyfox]

Chapter 10: Oh Hamburgers

Please note there are mentions of implied drug use and implied domestic threats in this chapter, so reader discretion is advised.

Is Y/N a Whole Foods disguised as a beautiful girl? That’s the only explanation Kyle can think of as to why so many of his South Park friends are suddenly appearing back in his life after he met her. He knows it’s probably all a big coincidence, but even if it is true, he can’t blame them. She has a magnetism around her that draws people in, one he himself fell prey to earlier that day. He knew it was impossible to control himself when he’s around her, yet did it anyway. But… she didn’t pull away when he asked her not to stop what she was doing, and that single thought fills him with an inexplicable feeling of hope that he hasn’t felt since he started killing.

However, he has no room in his head to think about these feelings right now , instead his mind is darting between asking what the hell Butters is doing here, or how the hell Y/N seems to know him. Deciding that the first question was less awkward to put forward, he does, and Butters sighs.

“Well, I was just telling Y/N over here that my boyfriend and I broke up, so I came here for a fresh start.”

This didn’t really come as a shock to Kyle. He had sort of always assumed that Butters wasn’t the straightest guy, especially when he got sent to that conversion camp and gave an impassioned speech about bi-curiosity that would rival one of Kyle’s own.

“Ex-boyfriend in South Park? Anyone I would know?”

“You sure would know him, it was Eric!”

“E-Eric Cartman?”

This did come as a shock. It came like a slap in the face actually. Kyle didn’t even know they were dating, much less that they’d broken up. Sure, he’d lost contact with most of South Park years ago when he moved, but this was big news, and he feels like it still should’ve reached him somehow. Even if someone like Ike had to pigeon carry it over.

The revelation of his mortal enemy’s recent love life stuns Kyle into disturbed silence, so Y/N clears her throat and smiles at Butters.

“Well Butters, it's a pleasure to meet you. We should have lunch together sometime.”

“Going out with some friends sounds a helluva lot better than eating a ham & cheese sandwich at my desk, how about today? ” he asks, and Y/N nods, before dragging a still shocked Kyle away to his office, setting him down in his desk chair and leaving him to rethink his life choices at how Eric Fucking Cartman has had more romantic experiences than him.

…

Sienna’s was Y/N’s choice, the familiar ambience relaxing a tense Kyle. The three of them are huddled together in a booth overcrowded with food, while Butters catches his friend up on all the things that went on in South Park in his 7 year absence.

“Tweek and Craig are still going strong. I actually think they’ll be engaged soon, if Tweek can stay still long enough for Craig to ask. Oh, and Clyde…”

Kyle absent-mindedly nods along to what Butters is saying, wondering when he’s gonna get to Cartman. Sure, it’s nice to hear what his old friends were up to, but he can’t deny that the only thing he wants to know is whether or not his former adversary’s life has gone down the shitter like he expected. He knows he shouldn’t compare or whatever, but the verification that years of tormenting had come back to bite Cartman in the ass is something Kyle didn’t realize he needed until his name was mentioned. Realizing that Butters could talk about Tolkien and Nicole’s kids for hours, he tries to delicately plant the idea of talking about his ex into his mind, but accidentally drops it like a bomb.

“So Butters, why the hell did you date Cartman?”

Butters nervously drops the fry he's eating and turns his gaze down towards the food, while Y/N kicks Kyle under the table for being so rude.

“Ow. Sorry dude, I just meant-”

“No, it’s alright. I don’t even know myself. But all of you fellers left, so it was just him & I stuck together. He was pretty sour about it, ya know? Everyone leaving? That’s probably why he clung to me so much. And well, I know it sounds cliché, but he started growing nicer the more he felt he needed me, and one thing led to another… We ended up living together in my parents house, but money was tight, since Eric never had a steady job and I didn’t make enough as a waiter at Denny’s to support both of us. Plus, I had always wanted to move to this city, but Eric was firmly against it. ‘Too many minorities’ he would say when I brought it up. So when I saw this job opportunity as a secretary, I figured, ‘Screw Eric, I wanna do what I wanna do!’. So I broke up with him, hopped on a plane, and here I am!”

“And Cartman was just… fine with that?”

“I think so. We both know it's for the best. In fact, he kept making funny jokes when I broke up with him about how he was gonna come find me, bring me back to South Park, and keep me trapped in his secret bomb shelter until I learnt to love him again. Silly old Eric.”

“Oh my god Butters,” Kyle says, dumbfounded at how lightly he took Cartman’s threats. “Please tell me you haven’t seen him since he said that.”

“Nope! The only people I know in the city right now are you and Y/N unfortunately.”

“Actually, Wendy and Stan are also living here now too,” Y/N informs him joyfully, and a big grin emerges on his face.

“Oh gee, that’s great! Now if Kenny could come back from god knows where and Eric could get over his fear of other races, we could reunite the whole gang!”

Kyle’s mouth falls agape as the realization hits him that Cartman could move here to be closer to Butters. Eric Cartman, the guy who made his entire childhood miserable, who inspired so many of Kyle’s insecurities that he thought he would never like himself ever again. Until Y/N.

Fuck. What happens if Y/N meets him?

Kyle knows that Y/N is pure-hearted, and would never fall for Cartman’s lies and deceptions. But… if he managed to turn her against him, Kyle doesn’t know if he’d be able to control himself. He swore he would only kill for the necessity of it, but with someone like Cartman in the picture, who can rile Kyle’s anger up in a way no one else can… Or even worse, if he managed to find out about what Kyle’s been doing in his free time… Let's just say he wouldn’t let it slide.

He can’t manage another word for the rest of lunch, sulking in silence over the possibility of Cartman returning to his life, while Butters and Y/N continue with their introduction to each other. She keeps sneaking glances at Kyle every time there’s a lull in the conversation, but she eventually sighs when she realizes he's going to be no help, and leaves him to wallow in his own self-pity.

…

After they all return back to the firm, Y/N pulls Kyle into his office and shuts the door behind her, forcing him into his chair before sitting down opposite him.

“Alright, what’s up?”

“Nothing.”

“Don’t ‘nothing’ me. You were acting really weird that whole lunch, super sad for no reason. So something’s gotta be up, tell me.”

“You noticed? Sorry.”

“Of course I noticed. I didn’t mind talking with Butters since he’s really friendly, but I would’ve liked a distraction from you when he started talking about how he got grounded by his parents for making all the aspiring athletes of South Park and Tom Brady drink his ‘creamy goo’. Which, by the way, what the fuck is up with your town?”

Kyle lets out a small laugh, but remembers who told Butters to do that in the first place, and a somber expression crosses his face. Y/N notices, and gets up from where she’s sitting and kneels down in front of Kyle’s chair, taking his hands in hers.

“Kyle, you know you can tell me anything, right?” she exclaims softly, and the look of pleading for him to be honest with her breaks the last wall in his heart.

He pours out his entire history with Cartman, all the bickering and fighting, along with the constant taunting of his deepest insecurities. Y/N listens carefully to every word, never interrupting, just taking it all in. He finally sighs, and turns his head to the side to avoid her gentle eyes.

“I just… I don’t like who I am when I’m with him. I turn angry and volatile, pretty much the worst version of myself. And I would hate for you to ever see me like that.”

“Kyle,” she whispers, clutching his hand closer to her chest, looking up at him with her affectionate gaze. “Did I ever tell you about the time my best friend got arrested?"

He shakes his head, and she continues.

"Yeah. I had grown up with this girl for most of my life. I knew everything about her, how smart and funny and talented she was, all her passions and dreams. I thought she would be destined for big things, but during our teenage years, she got peer pressured into taking drugs, and eventually became addicted. It was so painful, seeing her turn into the shell of who she once was. Everyone had given up on her when she turned 18, yet I still had hope. I was on my year abroad when she told me she got pregnant, and wanted my help delivering the baby. She had realized that this drug-addled monster wasn't who she is. It had been forced out of her by her 'friends', and it wasn't who she wanted her child to define her as. So, I came back, she got clean, and stayed that way."

She suddenly stops, switching her eyes to the floor.

"But some people didn't like that. And she was found with traces of cocaine in her room despite the fact she hadn't touched the shit for months. But no one believed her, since finding the drugs already fit with the image they had of her in their mind. They refused to let what they thought they knew go, and she ended up in jail."

She takes a deep breath before looking up at Kyle.

"She and her unborn baby died in there, due to how the doctors thought she was still taking, and she didn't receive the proper treatment a pregnant woman needs. That's when I knew I wanted to become a human rights lawyer, to protect not only those who are innocent, but those who become innocent. But what I'm saying is, I believe that our past selves are better left there, in the past. The way you are right now is how I’ll always see you. You could never be ruined in my mind.”

He breathes deeply, trying to control the rapid beats of his heart as he fails to contain the blush spreading across his cheeks. Fuck, how does she know exactly what to say to make his insides glow?

She goes back to her seat, but rests both her arms on his desk and delicately places her head on top of them.

"So that girl is the reason why you were so upset over Gemma?" Kyle asks, and she nods.

"It's also why I said I would help Stan get Wendy back. I'd like to believe there's good in everyone, despite how their past might make it seem. But.. I don't wanna talk about them. Tell me more about South Park, and try to leave Eric Cartman out of it as much as possible. Unless he did something stupid.”

Kyle smirks, leaning back in his chair as he recounts the time Cartman thought he got his period because he was bleeding out of his ass, the anxiousness Kyle feels towards him slowly fading away with every one of Y/N’s soothing laughs.

[alovelyfox]

Chapter 6: Even the best laid plans

Please note there are mentions of drug use and violence in this chapter, so reader discretion is advised.

Kyle was never a morning person. Even in childhood, he always appreciated a long sleep, one which was uninterrupted by noisy roosters, blaring alarm clocks, or Cartman giving him aids. That last one was maybe a little more personal than the others, but it stood nonetheless. Kyle was not a morning person. But the day after he and Y/N had made up, he finds himself going into work earlier than usual. He rationalizes it by saying that due to how much time he spent helping her with the Langford case, he needed extra time to work on his own stuff. Yet, the satisfaction he finds from completing his morning tasks prematurely isn’t what makes it worth waking up early. Y/N’s face searching for his when she gets in does, and the smile she gives him when she finds it.

He feels happier when he’s around her. And now that they’ve got that whole Stan business sorted out, he can feel them becoming closer. She seems to be more comfortable around him in all aspects, speaking up whenever she needs help or speaking her mind when something’s bothering her. He’s so enamored by her passion for life, that unfortunately it’s getting in the way of his undertaking of ending it.

He hasn’t opened the file about his casualty in days. Every time he gets close, all he can think about is what happened during his last masturbation session. The lust he feels for her combined with the cruelty he associates with the act of murder is a combination he never wants to feel ever again. But he can’t give her up. And if he’s being honest with himself, he’s not sure if he’s ready to kill again. Slaughtering a piece of scum one day then walking in to see Y/N the next isn’t something he’s sure he wants. And if that means he has to stop killing, so be it. Plus, who knows. If his feelings towards her ever die down, the file is sitting in his computer, waiting for him to be ready again.

…

He can’t deny how nervous he is the day of Y/N’s first trial. Offering to drop her off and pick her up from the courthouse is just an excuse he’s using to see her and offer any support possible. He remembers how daunting it was for him to walk up the steps as a fresh-faced 21 year old, scared shitless that this was the defining moment of his career and would prove whether or not he had what it took to be a good lawyer. And looking at Y/N in his passenger seat, he can tell she’s feeling the exact same way. Her stocking-clad leg won’t stop bouncing, and without thinking he puts his hand on her inner thigh to try and calm her down. Her leg stops, and Kyle immediately returns his hand back to the steering wheel. She doesn’t seem to notice, turning her head to stare out the window, but when he gazes at her in his peripheral vision, he sees her hand lightly caressing where his once was, and his insides glow.

They arrive and she turns towards him.

“Thank you so much Kyle. For everything you’ve done. Truly, I’ve never felt more prepared in my life, and it’s all due to you. Anyways, wish me luck!” She says, her eyes filled with enthusiasm.

“Good luck,” he replies smiling, and she nods before getting out of the car.

Kyle watches her carefully as she walks up the steps of the courthouse. She’s dressed in a crisp black blazer and matching blouse, along with a dark gray skirt that hugs her ass. He curses himself for thinking such thoughts on such a stressful day for her, then curses himself again for not being by her side during it. He wishes he could, but the firm’s having an important board meeting today to discuss some potential management changes, which Kyle cannot miss.

It doesn’t matter anyway. He can’t concentrate the entire time, his mind constantly wondering how Y/N’s doing at that moment. The chairman drones on about budget cuts while he thinks of ways he can take her out to celebrate after she’s done. Today was supposed to be the day of his casualty’s dinner party/death, and while he did manage to secure an invitation under the alias of one ‘Brad Champion’, he doesn’t feel up for it. Not when he has Y/N to look forward to.

The meeting drags on for longer than it should, eventually ending with enough time for Kyle to zoom back to the courthouse and pick Y/N up. He realizes she might not be done yet, so he parks his car and gets out. However, he finds her sitting at the bottom of the steps, a miserable expression befalling her face. Her head is resting on her knees, tilted to the side, yet her eyes are staring at the floor. Kyle calls out her name but she doesn’t seem to notice he’s there until he takes a seat next to her.

“Y/N? Are you okay?” He asks, his voice slightly panicked.

“Oh, Kyle,” she says sadly, turning her head to face him.

“Y/N, what happened? Why are you sitting down here?”

“Kyle,” she takes a moment and turns her gaze back to the floor before uttering her next words. “I lost. I lost the case.”

His eyebrows knit together in confusion. How did she lose? The case was pretty clean-cut in Gemma’s favor, with Y/N having airtight arguments and plenty of evidence to back them up.

“What do you mean you lost? Like the judge found Lenny not guilty?”

“No. Well, kind of. It was so clear that we were going to win, but his lawyer called for a recess and tried to get Gemma to agree to a plea deal. Lenny would plead guilty, but Gemma would be paid $5,000 in compensation, even though we were suing for $20,000. I told him no, but Lenny threatened Gemma, saying if she didn’t accept he would get her blacklisted from every company in the state. And of course with two twin babies at home, even if she won the $20,000, she can’t afford to uproot her and her husband’s entire life somewhere else, so she said yes to the plea deal, no matter how hard I tried to convince her to do otherwise.”

Y/N lets out a heavy sigh, and Kyle feels his heart drop.

“So he won. It didn’t matter how unfair it was for him to blackmail her like that knowing her situation, he’s still walking away practically unscathed and she’s walking away with nothing but trauma.”

She stuffs her face into her hands, letting out stifled sobs which make Kyle reach out to wrap his arms around her shoulder and hold her body close to his. She keeps crying and he whispers into her hair that everything’s going to be alright and that he’ll take care of it. Which he will. Unfortunately, that means he can’t take her out to dinner tonight. For he’s found himself a new casualty, someone who Gemma Langford, Y/N, and the world will be better without.

…

Fuck. Shitty Ass Fuckballs. Kyle’s middle-school potty-mouth often returned to him in moments of crisis, such as right now. The murder of Lenny Ying wasn’t supposed to go like this. Sure it had been last minute, but it had all miraculously fallen into place. After dropping Y/N back at her apartment, Kyle had gone back to his own and researched all about Lenny. He had issues with the way he treated the women working under him in the past, along with a not-so-secret reputation for bribing his way out of sticky situations like his drug problems. This made him popular among the spoiled of society, and why he had been invited to the fancy dinner party that Brad Champion also had the pleasure of attending. Perfect.

Donning a formal black tie suit, Kyle entered the party at 7:30 with his striking red curls hidden under a brown wig, and his shoes being a size smaller than usual. He had made sure to look as plain as possible to avoid getting recognized, and luckily for him no one seemed to pay him any attention. He kept his eyes trained on Lenny the entire night, watching the way he commanded every conversation he barged into with his obnoxious presence. Kyle often found his thoughts drifting back to Y/N, but forced her out of his mind. He doesn’t want even the thought of her to see him like this, stalking his prey like a lion would a gazelle. Or by the way Lenny was laughing, an ugly hyena.

He was guzzling down champagne like there was no tomorrow, which made it simple for Kyle to slip something into one of the glasses whose contents ended up in Lenny’s stomach. He finally left the room to take a piss around 9:30, and after waiting a couple minutes, Kyle made his move and followed him in. He expected to find Lenny disoriented and confused, not doing lines of cocaine on the bathroom sink. The lethal combination of the drugs which Kyle had slipped him alongside the drugs he was now taking made Lenny an unstoppable beast, who was determined to kill anyone in his path. He lunged for Kyle with a punch he narrowly avoided, and then tried again, and that time Kyle wasn’t so lucky. Lenny’s hand connected with Kyle’s face, hitting his left eye and splitting open his lip. Kyle was slightly winded, but remained in his strong fighting stance, and when Lenny tried to go again, Kyle was ready. He ducked from Lenny’s punch and in one swift movement, Kyle pulled a switchblade from his pocket and slashed Lenny’s throat in a single swipe. Lenny fell to the ground, but not before splattering his blood all over Kyle’s face and body.

Standing over him, Kyle tries to figure out what the hell he’s going to do next. He had planned to make it look like a simple drug overdose, so simple that he could walk out the front door with no one the wiser. But the blood all over him makes that impossible, so he has to improvise. He locks the door to make sure that he and the dead body are alone, then gets to work. He props it up against the wall, then grabs a shitload of tissues and scrubs the floor until his fingers bleed and the tiles are only a subtle hue of light red. But the biggest problem he has is how to get the body out of the bathroom without anyone noticing. Lenny’s too big for Kyle to carry out on his own, so he takes the blade back out of his pocket and chops off Lenny’s limbs until they’re small enough for him to fold into a trash bag he had found stashed. He heaves it over his shoulder and silently walks out of the back entrance of the bathroom and outside, where he dumps the bag into a nearby container and quickly walks over to his car. He gets in and starts to speed away from the scene of the crime, before the metallic smell of blood hits him and he realizes it’s too risky to go back to his apartment. It’s only 10 pm, which means there’s a lot of opportunities for his neighbors to see him covered in red like this. He needs to change first, and the only place he keeps clothes other than his home is the office. Plus, everyone would’ve gone home by now, so it’s kind of the perfect place for him to hide and collect his thoughts. With a heavy sigh, he makes a U-turn and changes course towards the firm.

…

He unlocks the front door with his security key, too preoccupied with remaining unnoticed by people on the street to remember to lock it. He sprints up the stairs all the way to his floor, then rushes into his office and immediately starts undressing. He takes off the size too small shoes and the irritatingly itchy brown wig, shaking out his red curls before running a hand through them. He removes his jacket and starts to inspect the damage, but a voice behind him stops him cold in his tracks. A voice he recognizes so well, a voice that was crying to him only hours earlier.

“Kyle? What are you doing here?”

He turns around and stares into the wide, unblinking eyes of the person he never wanted to see him like this.

“Hi, Y/N.”

[alovelyfox]

Chapter 3: Really just a simple favour

Please note there are mentions of suicide/substance abuse in this chapter, so reader discretion is advised.

This has got to be one of the most uncomfortable dates of all time. Not that you've been on many, but if this is what dating is like, you think it's time to ask your parents for an arranged marriage. And it's not that your date is ugly or anything too. Stan's wearing an oversized blue and red jacket with a pair of ripped blue jeans. He has a little bit of scruff on his chin, with his hair dyed blonde rather than natural, something you could tell by his black roots still showing. He didn't look so much like a creep as Kyle predicted, more like a washed up rock star wearing clothes from the kids section of a Wal-Mart. But your main problem with him is how fucking boring he's acting right now.

You've been making polite conversation with him for the past 5 minutes, and he's giving you nothing to work with. When you asked about his day so far, he gave you a curt 'fine’, then didn't bother to ask about yours. So you try again, telling him that you recently started a job at a law firm, but he looks like he'd rather be anywhere else but listening to you.

What a dick you think. I mean, he was the one who practically begged to have this date with me, yet he's acting like I'm not even here! Fuck my life.

“Hey, do you have any friends you think you could set me up with?" He asks, and it takes all your willpower to not openly slap him across the face.

Is he insane? Or does he find me so utterly awful that he's decided he's done with this date and wants to start planning his next one. Piece of shit.

"Like any cute friends?" He asks again. "Anyone with, let's say, straight black hair and choppy bangs in the front. And black eyes you can feel your soul getting lost in, that make you feel safe and like she's gonna take care of you forever... Oh, and a pink beret, maybe in some childhood photos or maybe still now?"

"Wendy? Are you asking about my roommate Wendy?"

His eyes light up when you mention her name and you feel your heart sink.

"Wait, so you asked me on a date only so you could get one with my roommate? Are you fucking serious? Nah, fuck you and fuck whatever this is." You get up to leave and make it out the door before he grabs you by the arm.

"Y/N please. I swear, I never meant to play you or anything, I'm not that kind of guy. Just let me explain." Stan pleads with you.

"Did you set up this date because you genuinely like me or because you're a stalker creep who likes my roommate so much that you'd do anything to get with her? Cause if it's the second one, that explains everything to me right there." You say, and he turns silent.

You look at your phone and the clock reads 6:15. You wonder if Kyle's still nearby when Stan interrupts your thoughts.

“Look, Y/N. I'm sorry, it's true. I did set up this date because I wanted you to help me get in touch with Wendy, but please hear me out. I met Wendy when we were in pre-school, and I've been in love with her ever since. We were one of those on again-off again couples in middle school, but during high school I fucked up. She broke up with me and moved away for college, while I stayed in that shithole town and let the loneliness consume me. I hated myself for letting her get away, for losing one of the most perfect girls to ever exist. But I came to my senses, decided enough was enough and came here."

You hate how sincere he sounds, and you feel yourself sympathizing with him. With a heavy sigh, you start walking back to your apartment, and motion for him to follow.

"I don't know Wendy that well, but I really like her. Also, she's doing well right now. And I'll be damned if I'm gonna let some douchey ex of hers come into her life and screw it all up. So I have to know the full story, which you're gonna tell me as we walk back to my apartment. If it's good enough, I'll invite you in to meet her, but if not, you leave both her and I the hell alone. Deal?"

He sighs loudly, but nods his head and reluctantly starts following you home.

"Deal. So, it all started when my friend Eric Cartman got an anal probe..."

…

Hearing Stan talk about his middle school relationship with Wendy softens your heart towards him, if only a little. The way he used to throw up when she talked to him, and how she paid a group of Iraqis to capture one of their teachers whom he had a crush on and shoot her into the sun. Okay the second one sounds kind of crazy, but it's obvious that they cared for each other a lot, at least when they were young. But when discussing what happened to them in high school, Stan freezes up.

"I fucked up. I really fucked it all up. Everyone else knew exactly what they were doing with their lives, and I had no fucking clue what to do with mine. I got really depressed, and turned to alcohol to numb the pain. My dad's an alcoholic, so maybe it's just something I inherited. But I pushed everyone away. My family, my best friends, and especially Wendy. She tried her hardest to get me to quit, to try and salvage what we had. But she broke up with me, saying that she couldn't watch me kill myself, and that it was time for her to move on. I was so wrapped up in all my shit that I didn't even care. I didn’t put up a fight, just watched her leave. I stayed in South Park while I watched everyone else get on with their lives, and all I wanted was to be back in middle school, when my friends didn't look at me with pity in their eyes and the love of my life was still mine."

So far, he had been walking alongside you while talking, but now he stops in his tracks and stares at the ground for a moment before his next words.

"I tried to kill myself two months ago."

Your eyes widen, seeing him so vulnerable like this. He turns to look up at the star pierced night sky which had befallen the both of you, obviously trying to will away the tears which were forming in his eyes. You're about to step forward and try to comfort him but he resumes walking, so you follow him while he continues on with what he was saying.

"Well, not really. It wasn't like I got a noose or a gun and just ended it. I had been on a three day bender with my dad's hidden supply, and in my drunken state I stumbled onto some train tracks. And I saw the train heading towards me, yet I didn't move. I think the alcohol was a way for me to slowly kill myself, but here was the perfect opportunity to finish the job. And my mind was hazy, and I thought that getting run over was exactly what I wanted. But then the train got closer and closer, and I hesitated. Was this really how my life was gonna end? Having achieved nothing, dying alone on some fucking train tracks? I had wanted to go back to my middle school self so bad, but would he have liked how I turned out? The train was a couple miles away when I hopped off the tracks, I was still so close my beanie flew off by the gust it generated from passing me. But I was alive, and had reached a moment of clarity. I didn't want to revert back to my middle school self. I want to become a man my middle school self is proud to grow up into. A man whose family and friends still care for him, and is still dating the girl of his dreams. So I checked myself into rehab, determined to change my mindset and ways."

He lets out a heavy sigh, and you pat him reassuringly on the back. He continues.

"I got out a couple weeks ago, and my first thought was to reunite with Wendy. She was the one who always had faith that I could recover, and with her by my side I would be able to get a job, reconnect with my friends, conquer anything. But I needed to know how she felt about me now, and when I found out that you were her roommate, I figured you were the one to talk to."

"But why not just ask me to help you? Why'd you ask me out on a date instead?"

"To be honest, I just thought it would be the quickest way to get your attention. Sorry for the way I acted on it by the way. I swear I'm a much more interesting guy to be around, but I was so worried about how'd you react to what I was gonna ask you that I guess I was kind of rude. My bad. But now that you've heard me out, you'll help and re-introduce me to her, right?"

You're in front of your apartment building now, and Stan's looking at you expectedly. You don't know what to think about everything he’s just told you, and him staring at you with puppy dog eyes isn't helping. You turn your back to him, and try to recollect your thoughts. He seems genuinely sorry about how he treated Wendy in the past, but does that mean he's changed?

You wheel around and look straight into his eyes as you say your next words.

"'Оkау.”

His face breaks out into a massive smile, but you hold up one finger indicating that you're not done.

"I'II help, under some conditions. And you're not meeting her until all these conditions have either been completed or agreed to. 1. You clean yourself up, both mentally and physically." You look him up and down, and raise an eyebrow.

"Mainly physically. Get some better clothes, clean up that scruff you call a beard sitting on your face, etc. 2. You get a job. Wendy deserves a guy who's stable, both mentally and financially. And 3. If you meet her again and she wants nothing to do with you, you suck it up and move on with your life. No weird stalking, no setting up a date with another one of her friends, nothing. Until then though, I'll help you get your life together. We can meet up tomorrow, when you should've already completed condition 1, and we can work on condition 2. Here's my number, don't abuse it."

You stick your hand out for his phone, and type your number into it. He takes it back and has a small smile on his face.

"Thanks. For everything. Even the small possibility of seeing her again makes my heart feel whole."

You let out a matching small smile. He does seem like a really sweet guy, and you can only hope he's serious about changing.

"I'll text you tomorrow when and where to meet up. Goodnight Stan."

And with that, you leave him standing on the street, and wonder what the hell you're gonna tell Wendy.

…

You decide to not tell Wendy about your date with Stan. You’ll find out how she feels about him as per Stan's request, but there's no reason for that to happen tonight. You walk into your room and practically collapse on your bed. Everything about today drained you, and the urge to sleep it all away is getting stronger and stronger. But before your droopy eyes fully close, your phone vibrates twice from an unknown texter. Assuming it's Stan, you breathe a heavy sigh. So much for the 'don't abuse it’ rule that came with your number. But you sit up straight when you actually read what it says.

Unknown Number - Hey Y/N, it's Kyle

Unknown Number - I just wanted to make sure you got home safe. So text me when you do.

You can't stop your face from smiling. You save his number into your phone and reply back.

Y/N - i came home a couple minutes ago, thanks for checking in ♡

Kyle ♡ - How'd it go?

Kyle ♡ - The date, I mean

You try not to read into why he cares about that. Probably just trying to make conversation, right?

Y/N - It wasn't what I anticipated, but the guy seems pretty nice so we're gonna meet up again tomorrow.

He leaves you on read for a while, only replying back five minutes later with a curt:

Kyle ♡ - Nice to hear. Goodnight Y/N.

He doesn't say anything else, leaving you to wonder what the hell you did wrong.