Hardis

by RyDeNiSlOvE

The boys end up inviting Butters to their sleepover, and Kenny and Butters become bored--though Kenny is quick to think of something they can do.

"So, Stan said lightly, finger tracing patterns on the wooden planks beneath us. "It's just us three?"

Kyle shrugged, looking to me for my opinion on the matter.

"Might as well invite Cartman."

Having said this, Stan and I both looked at Kyle and waited for his reaction to the proposal. I just though Cartman was annoying and fat, and Stan only didn't like him because of how he treated Kyle. Kyle, on the other hand, had plenty reasons not to want him around. I didn't know why we still hung around with him or associated with him at all; I guess we must have formed some kind of twisted bonds back in the fourth grade.

Kyle waved a hand dismissively. "Unless Stan wants his refrigerator intact, whatever."

I felt Stan's gaze on me, staring through me. "What about Butters?"

I looked up at him like he was crazy. Butters, who I was oh so very gay for, staying the night. It was hard to believe Stan and Kyle hadn't picked up on my thoughts concerning him yet.

"Butters? Butters Stotch?"

"No, the other Butters," Stan deadpanned, rolling his eyes. Kyle laughed quietly at his sarcasm, looking out the treehouse window.

"I don't know," I replied blankly.

"So you want to invite Cartman, but not Butters," Kyle clarifies, voice verging on incredulous. "The Hitler-worshipping fat racist fuck, but not a sweet and innocent little kid?"

"First thing," I retorted hotly, knowing I could barely argue with his point, "He's the same age as all of us, and he's annoying as hell!"

Kyle scoffed. "And Cartman isn't!"

"Fine, okay! We'll invite Butters!"

Stan looked between me and Kyle. "You know, if you don't want him here, he doesn't have to come," he told me, tone gentle, playing the role of mediator like one does as Kyle's friend. "And Kyle, if you don't want Cartman around, then he doesn't have to come either."

Kyle shot me a glare, though he wasn't really mad, just argumentative and hot-headed as ever. "I don't care."

"Me neither."

* * * * *

I opened the door of Stan's house, heart beating erratically.

Relaxing slightly at who I found standing outside on the doorstep, I greeted Cartman and let him into the house. He walked in loudly, taking his coat off as he looked over at Stan and Kyle curled up together on the couch, watching something on TV. Throwing the clothing to the side, he made his way across the room to sit on the other side of the sofa.

"Hey homos," he said casually in recognition of them, proceeding to stare listlessly at the television screen.

"You guys wanna do something?" I asked, only Kyle looking up and the other two sitting there with their eyes glued to the brainwashing boob tube.

Stan's arm tightened slightly around Kyle, head resting comfortably on his shoulder, locks of Kyle's red hair hiding part of his face.

Cartman finally turned to me, raising one eyebrow in mild annoyance. "I'm trying to watch a program, poor boy."

Kyle snorted disbelievingly. "Who says 'program'?"

"I say program, kike!"

"Guys," Stan said calmly. "I agree with Kenny. Let's do something that we all agree on. Let's play a game or something."

Stupid level-headed fucking Stan. With Kyle and Cartman around, the case was hopeless no matter what he tried to say.

"Games are for fags," Cartman said loudly, almost drowning out the sound of the doorbell. I cleared my throat nervously, smoothing out my jeans as Kyle, Stan, and Cartman waited for me to go answer it. I did so, the color draining from my face as I pulled open the front door.

"Kenny!" Butters exclaimed, ridiculously joyful as always.

"Hey."

He pulled me into a hug before I could stop him, arms encircling me tightly and holding me against him. I laughed awkwardly, politely pushing him away and feeling my face flush red.

Brightly, he waved to the rest of the group, smiling at them and nodding in their general direction. Cartman glared back at him like he was going to kill him and eat him, and Stan and Kyle smiled apprehensively in recognition of his presence.

Butters and I stood there and watched the other three, no one quite sure what to say or do. We were all just frozen in a socially impossible situation watching painfully as Stan and Kyle shifted on the couch so they could kiss enthusiastically.

They were usually rather affectionate in public, especially when it was just us, because, quite simply, they didn't give a fuck what anyone thought. That was great and all, but sometimes it got a little weird.

Like at the current moment.

Butters coughed, shifting uncomfortably, and I almost laughed at poor Cartman, the only straight one. Again, though, I had to be the one to break the silence.

"C'mon, guys, let's do something.

Miraculously, everyone paused their activities to pay attention to me. Cartman shrugged. "Like what?"

"Like let's go outside, or eat, or…or go to the park, or go somewhere fun, or…I don't know! Something that isn't this!"

Stan turned his attention back to Kyle, murmuring something about talking in the bedroom as Cartman's eyes slowly widened. He looked over, horrified, at Stan.

"No!" he shrieked. "Stan, no! He'll play one of his sneaky Jew tricks! He'll put a magic spell on you! He'll turn you into a leprechaun!"

Stan gave him a long look, eyebrows furrowed. "Can't you guys ever just sort out your differences, and achieve-"

"No one asked for your opinion, Confucius."

"Um, so," Kyle said quickly, trying (for once!) to avoid disagreements. "Where are we gonna go?"

"We could play basketball," Stan chipped in.

I pointed out that there were five of us, and that plan was dismissed.

Kyle brightened suddenly. "Stan has the new Call of Duty."

"Oh yeah!" Stan said loudly. "Kyle, set up the Gamesphere and I'll go get food."

Cartman mumbled something unintelligible about gefilte fish and gay sex, and Kyle casually flipped him off, reminding him of the fact that he was an overweight Nazi asshole and pulling out a big box of Stan's video games. He began to look through them as Stan disappeared into the kitchen.

I glanced at Butters, who was watching everyone with apprehension.

"So what's up with you?" I asked him, for lack of anything better to say.

"Huh? Oh, nothing, you know. How do you play Call of Duty? I've never played." He looked down at his shoes, scratching at his ear absentmindedly.

"Oh, it's easy," I said distractedly, eyes searching his thin form shamelessly.

"Cool. Well, anyway, I gotta go to the bathroom, I'll be right back."

Distantly, I watched as he ascended the staircase, walking in that cheerful but nervous way of his. Trying to be inconspicuous, I followed him up on an impulse, all the crazy plots that had been brewing in my head coming together and at last being put into action.

As I walked up the stairs I quickly made sure everyone's attention was elsewhere. I reached the top and made my way down the familiar hall, stopping outside the bathroom door and waiting.

Downstairs, I heard Stan laughing and Cartman yelling something. My hands were shaking with anticipation, mind boggled with how stupid I could be sometimes.

The lights and fan turned off and Butters emerged from the bathroom, stumbling backwards and looking completely taken aback when he saw me. I stepped up to him, smiling reassuringly. "We…need to have a little talk," I said, voice saccharine and deceiving, stepping even closer. Butters started to back up into the bathroom.

"C-Can't we have a little talk down there?" He inclined his head in the direction of the stairs.

"Well, we can, but I'd rather we do it here. You know, more privacy…"

"Okay, Kenny, but…okay."

In the distance, Cartman yelled something about shape shifting. I nodded towards the bathroom and Butters backed all the way in, letting me enter and lock the door behind us.

"So, what did we need to talk about?" he asked anxiously, playing with a thread on his shirt.

"Well, I had an idea of something we could do." I took a deep breath. "Because it would be fun…and I don't really like Call of Duty anyway and you don't know how."

Slowly, he nodded, looking at me skeptically.

I raised a tentative hand and placed it on his shoulder, feeling suddenly brave as I directed him to the sink, where he stepped backwards until his lower back was pressed to the edge of it. I stood close to him, moving my hands down across his chest as our eyes locked.

"What are you doing?" His eyes were wide and afraid.

"Nothing, you'll see."

Carefully, I slipped my fingers underneath the hem of his shirt and traced small patterns on his warm skin with my hands. His whole body became rigid, with him just staring at me and looking scared.

"Kenny, I, uh, I don't think I'm comf'table with this," he told me quickly, lightly, and I paused my motions.

"Aren't you curious?" I breathed, trying to seduce him, hands travelling to rest on his belt as I pressed my chest to his. He shuddered underneath me, leaning forward slightly so that our lips almost touched.

He looked at me meaningfully, eyes searching mine. "Why me?"

I smirked. "Cause you're smoking hot."

He gave me a strange look, lips slightly parted.

"I can't even look at you without wanting to fuck you. I just wanna…touch you, I wanna taste you…" Words were spilling out of my mouth senselessly; I had no idea where they were all coming from. "God, I just wanna blow you right now, down on my knees with your dick all hot and hard in my mouth…that would be hot, huh? Or if I fucked you…really, really hard, so hard you wouldn't be able to move for weeks after…"

After all, it was true.

He moaned softly, licking his lips, reaching up to my shoulders and gripping tightly.

"You'd like that, hmm?"

"Y-yeah," he breathed onto my face, eyes meeting mine.

I unbuckled his belt slowly, watching his face for a reaction and seeing something I've never seen before in an expression belonging to Butters Stotch. He moved his hips forward slightly, allowing me to remove the belt easily and quickly undo the button and zipper on his pants.

Gently, I pulled them down out of the way, exposing his hardening skin. My fingers then rested on his lower stomach, running across the flesh tantalizingly, avoiding what he obviously wanted me to pay attention to.

"Butters, what do you want me to do to you?"

He shuddered, leaning into my hands.

"I still don't know if…" He looked at the floor to his side, uneasy.

"Doesn't it feel good?" I asked, giving him a sideways look and waiting for him to look back up at me. He nodded softly, face turning a warm pink color.

"Then what would feel even better? Come on, you can tell me…"

His blush deepened. "I-I wan' you…to touch me." He said it almost like a question, as if asking for my approval.

I smiled at his tentativeness, hands caressing his sides encouragingly. "Where do you want me to touch you?"

He cleared his throat awkwardly. "Uhm, you know."

"Do I?" My hand crept down further, fingers running down his length teasingly. "Is this where you want me to touch you?"

"Yes," he gasped, hips twitching eagerly, obviously not used to this kind of attention. I started to move my hand rhythmically, becoming firmer as he gasped as spluttered and writhed against the sink, eyes closed and lips curved into a blissful smile. His breathing was heavy as a result of my ministrations, his lower half pressing forward into my hand.

I watched his face as I continued, seeing the sweat beading up on his forehead, the strands of fair hair sticking to it, his clenched jaw and contorted face, eyes squeezing shut with ecstasy.

He groaned loudly, back arching and eyes snapping open to meet mine.

"Kenny," he gasped, "f-faster…"

I obeyed dutifully, watching his pleased expression as I moved my wrist quicker.

He whispered my name again, still making eye contact as he quietly released into my hand, biting down on his lip, body tensing.

I shifted uncomfortably, jeans painfully tight, on the very edge of orgasm. Butters seemed to notice this and with no hesitation slipped a hand into my pants, fingers curling around my aching member and stroking only twice before I came with a heavy moan.

He kept his hand there in the moments after, making me press against him, craving the contact of his warm, soft, palms. Catching my breath, I leaned forward, lips brushing against his ear as I spoke softly.

"What else do you want me to do?"

His fingertips teased the pulsating veins just beneath my sensitive skin, aching to be touched, in desperate need of attention. He deliberately ignored my want, touching casually, absently, fingers occasionally moving up slightly to play with the thick, dark hairs.

It made it impossible to concentrate on anything else but his hand and what it did, distracting me from anything said or otherwise communicated.

He leaned forward so that the tips of our noses touched, looking into my eyes innocently for a moment before he brought our lips together in a messy kiss. Nervously, my tongue made its way into his warm mouth, running along his teeth before continuing to explore the moist terrain of his mouth. He returned my motions sloppily, hands sliding up underneath my shirt to run across my stomach and chest. His palms moved up to my shoulders, and I raised my hands up to allow him to pull the garment up over my head.

Smiling, he kissed me again, grinding himself into me, a bit tentative, as his tongue ran leisurely along my lower lip. I moaned gently into his mouth, reaching down to undo my jeans. I separated myself from him as I pulled the garment off, discarding it on the floor, standing there shamelessly in my ruined boxers and waiting for Butters to answer.

"First," he said, eyes travelling across my body, "I want those gone."

I obediently stepped out of the undergarment, kicking it over to rest beside my
jeans. His gentle smile turned into a smirk as he looked down at my cock, standing proudly before him in some kind of twisted military salute and pledging its allegiance. I blushed at his satisfied smile and he stepped forward out of the jeans around his ankles, brushing his hand affectionately against the side of my face.

Loud voices rose from downstairs, mingling with Butters' quiet laugh.

"Well, seeing as I'm probably the only person in South Park you haven't been violatin'..."

My face heated up at this, causing him to stop in mid sentence.

"Actually," I admitted, embarrassed, "those are just rumours."

"Hmm?"

"I'm...sort of...a virgin."

He stared at me, head tilted to the side slightly. "Seriously?"

"Yeah, I guess I wanted my first time to be...special, not drunk, or high, or, well, you know how I am."

"Mm, yeah, Stan's bathroom, very romantic, Ken."

His palm rested on my inflamed cheek, his face inches away from mine.

"That's not what I meant," I told him quietly. "I meant I wanted it…to be…with you."

He laughed almost derisively. "Really?"

"Come on, I know you've liked me for a long assed time, Butters." I glared accusingly at him, and he giggled.

"Is it obvious?" His lips were almost touching mine. I nodded, pressing forward and locking lips with him one last time before getting back to my main point.

"So, you never really answered my question."

He seemed to think for a moment before looking me in the eye and answering. "I want you inside me, Kenny," he said, voice low and rich, making my heart beat deliciously fast and my cock twitch against his.

"Say that again."

"I want you inside me," he repeated, voice with a pleading edge to it.

"Say it like you mean it."

"I want you to fuck me 'til I can't breathe anymore, right here and right now."

I growled pleasurably at his desperate tone, fingers sliding down his shirt before I pushed him away from me. "Get down on the floor," I ordered.

He did so, sitting on the rug in front of the bathtub with his legs slightly apart. I kneeled over him, kissing his neck tenderly as I lifted his legs so that I could slide underneath him, pulling him up so that he straddled my thighs.

I brought two fingers up to his lips, and he opened his mouth compliantly, taking them between his lips and sucking gently. His tongue lathered both fingers in saliva, eyes closed as he licked.

Making a small involuntary sound of satisfaction, I removed my fingers from the warmth of his mouth and dropped my hand down with a smile. I watched cautiously for a reaction as I pushed my index finger inside of him.

Eyes wide, he cried out in distress, hips jumping up and fingernails digging into the rug.

"You alright?"

He nodded quickly, staring up at the ceiling. "Yeah-just-heck, Kenny, that hurts."

I stared at him, contemplating and analyzing the situation. "If that hurts, I hate to tell you, but you've got another thing coming." I moved my finger around in the tight space as I spoke, trying to get him accustomed to the alien feeling. His legs spread to allow me more access, his hands gripping at the soft rug beneath him.

"Well, I asked for it."

I inserted a second finger, listening to his breathing become heavier. He whimpered softly, sliding his body forward ever so slightly and burying the fingers deeper into him. I explored with the middle finger, finding and teasing that spot that made him yelp blissfully every time I touched it.

"Kenny," he said, voice soft and affectionate and alluring. "This is so hot…I'm glad that…oh, Kenny…"

I took my own erection into my hand as I finished preparing him, the mere sounds of his voice stimulating every nerve ending in my body. Stroking desperately, I removed my fingers from inside him, needing release but at the same time just wanting more than anything to just go ahead and fuck him already. He slid forward into my lap and I grasped his hips firmly, drawing in a deep breath.

"Kenny?" he asked me timidly, shifting around slightly and playing with the hem of his t-shirt. It was back to the usual Butters now, not the sexy Butters that no one knew existed.

"Mmm?"

"I…please…be gentle, like, not make it hurt." He gave a sheepish smile.

"'Course. I love you."

With that said and the head of my cock pressed to his entrance, I entered slowly, listening to him whine at the feeling of being invaded. When his sounds of discomfort began to diminish, I pulled his hips down into me, pushing in further.

I looked up at his discontented expression, his arms slung over my shoulders, his back slightly arched, his legs around me.

"Are you sure you're alright? Does that hurt?" I asked breathily, looking at him with mild concern.

He nodded, shutting his eyes as I pulled out and thrusted back in a second time, feeling his muscles contract around me as he moaned loudly. Taking his pleasured sounds as a sign to continue, I kept going, licking at his open mouth hungrily as I did. His lips closed down on mine in a heated kiss as he bucked his hips forward, urging me on.

Grasping his hips in my hands, I continued my erratic thrusting. He gave a deep though blissful growl at my steady motions, arms tightening around my neck as he started to move his hips in time with my actions. I groaned loudly at the feeling of his tightness enveloping me, and the elated sounds he made.

"Oh, god," he finally managed to splutter, exultant, biting down painfully on my lip and then lathing his tongue over the area.

Lost in the foreign sensation, I finally came inside of him, exhaling heavily as he followed almost immediately after. He collapsed against the side of Stan's bathtub, gasping as I slowly pulled out of him.

We fell silent, and from the first floor I could hear Cartman's raucous laughter, a loud crash, and then Kyle's high pitched voice reprimanding him. Butters smiled at me tiredly, laying there in a contented sort of daze.

"Thanks for…convincing me to do that," he said slowly and quietly, blushing. "Jesus…"

"Oh, you're more than welcome." I smirked, picking up my boxers and using them to wipe the cum off my stomach and chest. I then threw them into the trash can, standing up to put the rest of my clothes on. Butters followed suit, dressing quickly, and without another word unlocked the door and left.

I waited a moment before exiting the bathroom as well, descending the stairs after Butters.

By the time I got down, Cartman was already sneering disgustedly at him as he interrogated him as to his whereabouts. "Where the hell were you? Taking it up the ass? Kenny giving you some of his penniless penis?"

His eyes flickered to me, and Kyle sniggered, blowing a Japanese soldier up on the Gamesphere. I myself had to try my hardest not to laugh.

If only he knew.

Cartman continued to look at Butters distastefully for a moment before Butters turned around, looking away from his video game.

"You know," he said, a half-smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "It kills me to say this, but I'm glad you guys all came." Stan nodded in agreement, and I glanced at Butters slyly. Yeah, thanks Kyle, we sure did come, a lot.

"Me too."