I don't own these characters. AT ALL. They belong to Matt and Trey.
"You're turning into your father," Kyle smiled slightly as he watched Kenny take a long, deep swig of beer out of a long-necked bottle, his second of the night. They were sprawled casually on Kenny's stoop, watching moths flitting against the streetlight in front of his house.
Kenny paused, choking briefly as more alcohol than he'd intended to sip seeped between his lips. He glanced at Kyle out of his peripheral vision before shrugging.
"Dude," He drawled, after he managed to drain his mouth. "I could never be as bad as he is."
"Not now, anyway." The redhead's smile took on more of a mischievous tone, before dimming abruptly as the other boy sent a heel flying into his shin. "Ow! Shit, asshole!"
Kenny snickered, before they fell silent, Kyle rubbing his shin with a scowl and Kenny going back to work on emptying the bottle. After a while, his face slightly reddened by the brew, Kenny looked back at his friend and let out a loud laugh.
"You look like a pissed off monkey."
"You kicked me!" Kyle growled, glaring ferociously at his inebriated friend.
"Not that hard." Kenny brought the mouth of the bottle to his lips again, curving them teasingly as Kyle's scowl deepened a little more. "Lighten up, Kyle. You know they say love hurts."
"So, what about it?" Kyle asked, his eyebrows knitting in bemusement.
Kenny chuckled. "So, I love you." He finally tipped the bottle upwards for a gulp.
He didn't seem to notice the small double take that Kyle made.
"… That's really gay."
"Chicks say they love each other all the time. Why can't guys?"
"Because they're girls," Kyle said slowly, in case Kenny was too gone to follow. "Girls are into that touchy-feely shit, so they can get away with it."
"Hee…" Kenny brushed his thumb against the bridge of his nose, the bottle bumping against his forehead as he smiled. "Touchy-feely…"
"You like the sound of that, don't you…?" Kyle stated dryly, rolling his eyes as he sat back, his elbows resting against the wooden platform of Kenny's stoop.
"Sounds funny." Kenny murmured around the bottle.
"Whatever you say."
"I should be allowed to say I love you, though."
If it weren't for the fact that Kenny's eyes were glazed, Kyle would've thought he was being sincere.
"Dude, stop. Seriously. It sounds wrong." Kyle, in a move copied from Stan, brought his hand to the bridge of his nose and squeezed the area between his eyes.
"I am being serious." Kenny drifted towards him, his eyes focusing on Kyle's face intently.
Kyle looked up, flinching when he saw how close the other boy was. "Jesus Christ, Kenny!" He scrambled away a few inches, his face flushing. "Don't do that!"
Kenny shrugged, returning his attention to the beer. Kyle, feeling awkward, began tapping the toes of his sneakers against the concrete beneath the stoop.
"I don't give two shits if it sounds wrong," Kenny began abruptly, cutting off the clumsy not-rhythm that he had started elaborating on. "I think you're kick-ass, dude. I really fucking love you."
Kyle eyed him suspiciously. "I don't have to take you seriously, you know."
"Awww," For all his disorientation, something in Kenny's expression looked pained. "Why not?"
"Because you're drunk." Kyle answered matter-of-factly.
"… I don't have to be sober to mean something." Kenny protested, slurring his words and making Kyle roll his eyes again.
"Okay." Kyle allowed his head to loll back, his weary gaze returning to the moths on the streetlight. "Tell me again in a few hours and we'll see if I believe you, then."
Kenny seemed placated with that, hitting up the nearly-empty bottle again.
"Dude," He exclaimed suddenly, holding up the bottle so that the brown glass caught the streetlight's beacon. "The glass… It's all rainbow-y."
He stared at this, transfixed, as Kyle winced and shook his head.
"Oh, brother."
A/N: Remember, I live off of the nourishment that reviews provide me. X3