met you at the party - a scene kyle x goth stan style fic

Chapter 4 - The Third Party

— Sunday Morning —

Kyle's Pov:

As I began waking up, the disgusting smell of cigarettes filled my nostrils yet again. I shot my body up realizing I was laying in black lace sheets. I looked around the room. Gothic decor lined every nook and cranny. The bones of animals sat on the dresser across the room. The posters of bands I'd never even heard of scattered along the walls. I was in a fucking goth dungeon. I was nearly convinced of my conclusion, until I looked down, and saw the goth bitch himself laid out across the floor, his body covered with his own jacket.

"Hm." I uttered out in a quiet manner, careful not to wake him. I observed the blood he still had on his face and everything came back to me. They had done it again, I scoffed at the thought of being fought over for the second time in a row. It was something I was excited to tell my kids in the future, if I even lived long enough to have any. Anyways, I found myself staring at the ceiling all morning until I eventually heard him take a big drawn out breath, stretching out his limbs that were definitely sore from sleeping on the floor. I stared down at him as he rubbed his eyes in, looking up at me realizing I was awake too.

"Guess you didn't die." He said beginning to smirk as he sat up.

"I'm immortal bitch." I smiled, making him laugh for the first time, which made me laugh.

"Thanks for making sure I didn't die." I avoided eye contact, feeling way too sappy when I thanked anyone for anything.

"Whatever. It wasn't on purpose." He said in annoyance as he tried to wipe the remaining blood from his face.

...

"You're still a wrist slitting fag regardless." I said throwing my hat at him.

"Don't care, you're a cock sucker."

"Just say you want to test it out for yourself." I teased as his face became red in the dim light.

"Fuck you pansy." Stan said throwing the hat at my face as I leaped off the bed onto him. He wheezed and yelled at me to stop while laughing as I bit his neck like a rabie dog. And that's what his stupid ass gets for fucking with RawrXDmaster3000.

————-

Stan's Pov:

After fighting him off of me, feeling the sting of the bite marks he left in my skin, me and Kyle emerged from the room into the living area. We nearly shit our pants when we saw Michael, Henrietta and Firkle and crammed onto the small brown couch looking more miserable than me at a hippiefest.

"Finally, the queers are up. You better not have left semen stains in my vintage bedsheets." Henrietta snorted while pushing Michael off the couch onto the floor.

"We didn't fuck." I said rolling my eyes as Kyle giggled, hiding himself in my chest.

"Aw, he didn't die." Firkle said while Michael death stared the both of us rubbing his head.

"Kyle, Henrietta, Michael, Firkle. I said pointing to each one of them as they all stared with nonchalantness in their eyes.

"Honored to meet you." Kyle said sarcastically as he smugly stuck his middle finger at them.

"Kyle's a stupid name." Firkle sneered.

"Your name's literally Firkle you little shit." Kyle said pulling out his vape in anger and chiefing it.

"Whatever, I have to get going anyways. Last fucking party and you losers are gonna miss out." He said now tucking it into his pocket.

"You're not seriously gonna go again?" I said perplexed at his commitment to the stupid parties that clearly never ended well.