A/N: Ah! Finally! I've got this up! I know it's been on my profile since I joined this site, but It's taken me a while to sort things out. I don't see a lot of KennyxStan, so…
Please enjoy, and review if you're up to it!
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There were emotions under the hood of Kenny McCormick, even though people rarely saw them. People barely looked him in the eyes; they all thought, "Hey, he's poor, what can he possibly have to say that's worthwhile?"
They were wrong, of course.
Kenny, being almost 16, was a shy, lonely teen who came from a poor, messed up family. His father was always drunk, and his mother was a bitch. People always expected Kenny to be like them when he got older, but no way. He'd do his best every day to avoid turning out like his father.
Albeit, he hated school, got bad grades, and read porn rather than books. Yet he still managed to drive on, trying his hardest not to fail at life.
Of course, he had a little bit of a push every day.
Stanley Marsh: the kid who actually would pay attention to him, ask him things, encourage him when he was down. Stan Marsh had come to mean so much in Kenny's life, and yet seemed to be so blind, so unconcerned about Kenny's true feelings for him.
They were friends. Just friends.
However, Kenny wanted to be a bit more than that. Kenny wanted so badly just to sweep Stan up in a kiss, hold the strong yet slim body of one of his closest friends. He wanted to feel Stan's tongue brush against his, their lips locked together in a sweet taste of perfection…
"'Ey! Kenneh! What are you doing zoning out like that?"
Kenny rolled his eyes, of course unseen by the jiggling blob of fat people called Eric Cartman. He shook his head, blinking, trying to come out of his daze.
I wasn't thinking about Stan, I wasn't thinking about Stan, I wasn't thinking about Stan…
"Stupid Fag," Cartman said. Kenny shook his head again, his now long bangs falling over one eye, seemingly complimenting his facial expression: annoyed, yet coolly kept under control with a neutral expression betrayed by his uncovered eye. He said nothing.
Angered by the lack of a response, the racist annoyance waddled away down the halls of South Park High.
Kenny muttered to himself, voice muffled by his parka, thankfully. What if Stan had come by and heard me saying such perverted, stupid things about that whale? Kenny thought.
His vision blacked out. Am I dying?
"Guess who?" A voice whispered in his ear. Kenny felt his face heat up and something come over his lower body as the warm breath made contact with his ear.
"Hmm… could it be the star quarterback of South Park High?" Kenny asked, this time his voice not being suppressed by the fur in his parka hood. He'd learned over the years how to shift a bit so his mouth wasn't completely covered.
"Good guess," Stan Marsh said, defeated. He took his hands away from Kenny's eyes and stuffed them in his pockets. "What's your next class?" Stan asked casually. Of course he knew the answer, but it was a daily thing for these two.
"Chem Lab," Kenny said. "You know…"
"Right… I have that next period… Oh, shit!" He cried out suddenly. "I forgot to do my homework… can I see yours?"
Kenny blinked. Why? It's not like I'm passing that class, you know, he felt like saying. In the end he just handed Stan his notes. "Go ahead," He muttered.
He wanted Stan to do well, if he couldn't. He'd felt that way for over two years now. Maybe even more than three years. Kenny had lost track. He wasn't even sure how it started… but how could he be gay? And for Stan? So many girls were all over him! Strange he never paid attention to any of them…
"Kenny?" Stan asked, poking his friend in the stomach. "You okay in there?"
Kenny nodded, hair falling again to cover some of his nose now.
"Okay. You kinda zoned out there. Here are your notes," he said, passing them back to Kenny.
The bell went.
"Ah, shit, late again!" Stan said. "Look, Kenny, I'll see ya later, okay?" He called over his shoulder. Kenny waved.
Stan Marsh, you don't know how you torture me.
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A/N: Ah, wasn't that bad, was it? Once again, please review.