Too Much Poison; Kyle/Stan
"Aren't you supposed to be working on your paper instead partying?"
This really isn't how he's supposed to be spending his Friday night. He had prepared all the textbooks he intended on reviewing for the rest of the evening when he received a message from a classmate of his that Stan has required his assistance to helping him walk home. This has become a normal occurrence to the redhead, something he has already gotten accustomed to. He knows that Stan has a certain problem but would the guy ever listen to reason? After countless attempts of talking to him about it, Kyle already knows the answer to that question.
He lets out a quiet huff as he shifts his best friend's arm over his shoulder, finding it harder to balance the two of them while in the midst of striding down the sidewalk-- his frail stature not providing any help at all.
"Ugh, come on, dude. Work with me here."