— 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.
"Why wouldn't I? I have better things to do than sit around and feel sorry for myself. Thanks for letting me stay though." He smiled at me as began walking for the door. I realized he was being for real as he reached his hand for the knob, on impulse I yelled out.
"Wait."
Kyle looked back at me confused as I walked closer to him.
"I'll.. go. With you." I heard the silence of judgmental goths lingering behind me as Kyle's radiating smile shined once again.
"I thought you hated those parties."
"I do. Trust me, I really fucking do. But theres no point of letting you go by yourself. It's just one more night." I said as I stuck my hands in the pockets of my pants and avoided eye contact once again.
"Fine. Fuck it. One more night." Kyle said now closing the door and walking back to me.
"What am I gonna wear though? I need to fucking shower, I feel like shit." He looked at me for answers, and I thought up the best solution.
I rummaged through Henriettas closet as she mouthed me off the in background, until I found her old emo clothing from that one phase she had.
"Ew. If you wear that I'll seriously kill myself." Henrietta said with disdain at the sight.
"Hm. I can work with this." He grabbed the clothing from me as he made his way to the bathroom.
Once out, Kyle had somehow managed to pull it off. His green accessories colliding with Henriettas pink and black clothing made him look extra fucking emo, but in a cool way, I guess. I tried to hold back my laughter as he began singing mcr to piss the others off.
"You guys totally have to come with us." He eventually said, plopping back on her bed.
"Why? So we can all be burned at the stake by a bunch of Taylor Swift listeners? Yeah. I don't think so." Michael said crossing his arms and looking to the side aggravated.
"Come on. Don't be a fucking conformist." I said trying to convince him.
"How is that being a conformist, you conformist."
"Just shut up come jesus christ." Kyle said groaning at our back and forths.
"Whatever." Michael said rolling his eyes.
Kyle had successfully gaslit all of us into going to another stupid party, and yet this time, I was kind of excited. Fuck. He's turning me into a conformist.
— Nighttime —
Kyle's Pov:
After pulling up to the party in Michaels black Mustang from the stone ages I felt myself getting deja vu all over again. I wondered if Tolkien would be inside, just waiting to fuck up Stan. I wouldn't let it happen again. I'd throw a few fucking punches of my own if I had to. Just then, I looked over to Stan, who looked back at me smiling as we began pulling up. It was still weird seeing him happy after never seeing him crack a smile before, especially considering Firkle was sitting behind him death glaring me the whole time. I still managed to smile back as the car came to a stop, and everyone began exiting.
"Okay so, what if hypothetically the T-Swift fans for real tried to come burn us." Michael said as he picked at his hang nails. We all groaned at his stupid questions as he cursed at us for being rude, until the music from inside the house became too loud to hear anymore. Like always, the huge crowd filled the house, only now, it felt like we were being stared at a lot more than before. It made sense, since there were now 5 "emo-looking" kids in a group, not to mention the 8th grader we had brought along.
"Jesus christ do I have a dildo strapped to my head?" Henrietta said as they all pulled out their own cigarettes almost in sync, I really wondered how they hadn't developed lung cancer by this point. Regardless, I knew they wasn't any point of standing around at the last party of the week, but I knew Stan wouldn't voluntarily dance in front of his friends sober minded. I needed to get him drunk.
"Hey, you want a drink?" I said yelling in his ear just quiet enough for the others not to hear.
"Vodka. No gay shit." He said looking down at me with a nice but serious face. I nodded and made my way back over to the fridge. This time, Tolkien wasn't there. I let out a sigh of relief as I pulled out the bottle of vodka in the back of the fridge and brought the whole thing back over to Stan with a red solo cup.
"Why the cup, just drink out the bottle." He said examining my unfree hands.
"It's called drinking etiquette you dumbass." I said glaring at him while pouring him a cup of straight liquor.
"What about you?" He stared as he began chugging unphased, which never failed to impress me.
"I have better things to do." I grinned as I pulled a baggie of the acid Kenny had sold me the other day.
"Acid. Really. Are you 12." He said as his eyes lowered, making me wonder what his vendetta was.
"Oh shut up." I placed one of the tabs on my tongue and stuck it out at him. "You don't wanna take one with me?" I said offering the other tab to him.
"Fuck no. One of us has to be sober." He said as he took yet another gulp.
"You're literally drinking."
"I don't get drunk easily, mind your buisness." He responded like a smartass. I stared at him in disbelief as he looked off into the distance of drunk teenagers. Just then, I got an idea that I knew was horrible, yet, the chaos craving side of me took over. I quickly dropped the tab into his drink, making sure his attention wasn't on me, then quickly looked the opposite way. In the corner of my eye, I saw him take another sip, and I felt my stomach drop realizing what I just did. Just then, the music abruptly stopped.
Stan's Pov:
I finished swallowing my 3rd gulp of my favorite drink by the time I realized the music had stopped. Everyone turned their head towards where the speaker system was, and my eyes got big when I realized Firkle was standing on one of the speakers holding the phone connected to it.
"Fuck you conformist pussies. This one's for the dark bitches." I heard him yell into the microphone as he began playing Christian Death. That's why we don't fucking bring him anywhere. I looked over to Kyle as the urge to laugh began filling my mind, until I realized his pupils were dilated, and he was looking at me with his mouth gaping.
"Dude, isn't that your friend." Kyle said as he began maniacally laughing. I began laughing at him as he failed to calm down, leaning onto me for support. I knew he was definitely tripping by now, and I wondered how it must've felt.
"Dude, you're fucked up." I said smiling at him as I held him up.
"Yeah, you will be too." He continued laughing.
"Relax, It's just vodka. I'll be fine."
"Uhhh, no its not." Kyle looked at me trying to hold in his laughter by covering his mouth.
"What do you mean?" I said as my eyebrow raised, realizing he probably spiked my shit with some pink girly drink as a stupid joke that only he'd find funny.
"I.. PFFT.. I kind of did something." Kyle said leaning his head onto my shoulder.
Just then, my surroundings started to become unfamiliar. The music began sort of echoing. The floor became a myriad of patterns. Oh shit.
"Kyle.. What.. What the fuck did you do?" I said looking at my hands, which were now a mixture of eyeballs and unidentifiable swirls. Kyle never stopped laughing, which caused me to panic.
"Kyle?!" I said with more desperation as the whole room around me turned into a jumble of geometric shapes and colors. It looked like I was in some shitty video game, and I began clinging to Kyle.
"Calm downn, it was just a bit of acid." He said as my eyes shot open.
"WHAT?" I said now in a worried state, but before he could speak, I was grabbed away by an unidentifiable being who pulled me aside to a couch.
"Hey- woah. You're really high. Wowwww your pupils are huuuge." The being said as his face got closer to mine, making me trip out an insane amount. I found myself wanting to run, but I couldn't move.
"Listen, so, you look pretty emo, and I'm assuming you came with that emo girl over there, sooo, do you think you could get me her number?" The being continued saying as I tried to comprehend who I even was, nonetheless who was speaking to me at the moment.
"Uh. I. Uh.." I said stumbling looking behind me at the faintly distinguishable faces.
"Leave Stan aloneeee Mcwhoredick, he's tripping balls." Kyle said as I felt him grab my arm and pull me backwards towards him.
"Relaaax I was just trying to get the number of that hot emo chick. Damn.. the things I'd do to her." The guy, who's nickname sounded extremely familiar, kept going on about her until Kyle eventually led me away.
Kyle's Pov:
I happily started dragging Stan into the crowd until he began pulling back.
"Whats the matter Stannn? I want to dancee." I said whining as I saw his eyes darting around the room.
"Kyle, I'm way too fucked up right now. I don't even know whos real and who's no-" Stan continued rambling as my eyes searched around the room taking in everything I saw, until, yet again, I saw the only person I wished I never saw again. From what I could tell, Tolkien was on the adjacent side of the house, staring me and Stan down with a death glare as I stared back at him. Half of me wanted to go over and slash his eyes out with my nails, until I looked back over to Stan who was still talking at a million mph.
"Like dude, you don't understand I'm seeing fucking ants and shit and its lik-"
"Shhh." I said putting my finger over Stan's mouth as his wide eyes pierced into mine. I looked at him for a second, slowly putting my finger down as neither of us broke eye contact. I didn't know if it was the acid, or knowing that Tolkien was staring at us, but I felt like there was an unsaid tension between the two of us begging to be broken. I only felt the tension grow more as I extended my hands up his body, reaching the nooks of his shoulder blades. I brung myself in closing my eyes, all the way until my lips touched his. I felt him quivering, yet, his arms hesitantly wrapped around my lower half, bringing me in as well. And just for a second, the world went quiet.
Stan's Pov:
Although I nearly wanted to protest at the vile act that I was participating in, for some reason, I couldn't. It felt so right. I felt as if all my anxiety had washed away in the moment. I never believed I had a thing for guys before, nonetheless anyone after my girlfriend died, yet, here I was, proving myself wrong infront of a party full of conformists who I thought would lash out at the sight of any same-gender affection in the slightest. But instead, nothing. No one bothered us. No one punched us. It was just me and him.
Kyle pulled himself away from me as a thousand unspoken words were exchanged through our gazes alone. I felt myself looking around the room, and finding my friends dancing, Henrietta now with a random white boy, while Firkle and Michael half ass-ly dancing next to them.
"Kyle. Do you.. want to dance?" I felt repulsed at myself muttering such a cliche sentence, until I saw him smile beaming at me brighter than ever.
"Fuck yes." He said as he began dragging me to the center of the room.
So we did. We danced as long as we could, the acid making it feel as if this moment would never end, going on infinitely until the end of time. Kyle danced around like some newly 18 y/o at her first club, while I let my limbs act like tree branches in true goth tradition. He spun me round and round until we almost collapsed. As he fell onto me yet again I used all my strength to keep us from being sent colliding with the floor as he cackled nonstop. I held him smiling knowing he was having way too much fun, until he finally got his balanced, and once again, brought his lips to mine. As his hands rested on my shoulders and mine on his cheek, I opened my eyes and got a glimpse of king conformist himself staring at us in the distance. Compulsively, I stuck my middle finger at him as I smile formed while I continued kissing Kyle. Once again, his fragile ego was destroyed as he threw down his cup and speed walked to another section where I could no longer see him.
Before I knew it, Kyle was dragging me outside by my hand, all the way until we reached Michael's car. No matter how many questions I wanted to ask, I knew better when it came to Kyle.
Kyle's Pov:
Dozens of minutes passed as me and Stan laid slumped over in the back of Michaels car, never even stopping to come up for air. I leaned down and planted a million kisses on his neck as his fingers gripped into my waist. Without even realizing, my hand began sliding down his body, reaching down onto the center of his jeans as he groaned in satisfaction. My fingers searched around until they found the button and zipper, which I slowly began undoing, until..
*KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK*
A hard bang grazed the backseat window as me and Stan shot up looking behind us. The fogged up windows now lit up with a flashlight. I quickly jumped off of Stan to wipe a portion of the fog to see through. There stood 3 goth kids and a white boy. Damnit, Kenny was goood.
"Quit your homoerotic cock torture session and make fucking room." Henrietta said rolling her eyes with a evil smirk as Kenny pulled her in slightly by her waist with the hugest 'I'm about to fuck' grin I'd ever seen. Me and Stan couldn't help but laugh as he quickly fixed his pants and we all crammed into the backseat, Firkle and Michael being way too salty to even speak a word from the front seat. I knew tonight would be way more interesting than any party or club I'd ever been to. I couldn't wait.