I should be working on "Beside Me in the Morning" instead of pumping out Crenny one-shots like this. No, scratch that, I should be doing homework instead of writing South Park fanfiction at all. But I had such a desperate need to write Crenny, and this little ficlet just sort of spilled out of me.

I don't own South Park.

On One Condition

"Because it's stupid."

"Well, yeah, but still. You have to go."

Craig crossed his arms. "Why do I have to go?"

"Because it's a… What does that chick say in the John Hughes movie? A rite of passage."

"Fuck, Kenny, I'm not going to some stupid dance just because Pretty in Pink says I have to. I don't let gay-ass eighties chick flicks make my decisions for me."

"But you'll miss out on all the fun. Cartman's gonna spike the punch and see how drunk he can get Kyle. And I heard that Clyde's gonna show up in a dress just to see if he gets kicked out."

"Why would I want to see Clyde in a dress?"

"Come on, Craig!" Kenny pleaded, leaning forward and resting his hands on his friend's knees. "It'll be no fun without you!"

"It'll be no fun with me," Craig replied. "Prom is just a stupid, shallow, over-rated end-of-year dance that girls—and Clyde, evidently—spend way too much money on dresses for."

"It's also the night when girls are most willing to give up their virginity. It's a scientific fact."

"Well maybe I don't care about that either."

"Why the hell wouldn't you care about that?"

Craig rolled his eyes.

"Dude," Kenny went on. "My brother said his senior prom date let him take off her garter with his teeth. He wore the thing on his arm like it was a fucking medal or something."

Once again, Craig said nothing.

Kenny scooted across the carpet so he was seated beside Craig and put an arm around the raven-haired boy. "What if I told you that sometime during the night, someone—I won't say who—plans to rig the ballot box and make Clyde prom queen? Wouldn't that be worth seeing?"

"You're gonna make Clyde the prom queen?"

"I didn't say it was me!"

"Who else would do that?"

Kenny shrugged. "So what's it gonna be, Craig? Are you gonna sit on your ass at home all alone on a Saturday night, or are you gonna go to prom and have fun with me?"

Craig sighed heavily. "Fine, I'll go."

Kenny slapped Craig hard on the back. "Glad to hear it, my friend."

"On one condition."

Kenny squeezed the dark-haired boy's shoulders affectionately. "You name it."

"You have to buy me one of those boutonniere things."

"I have to…buy you a boutonniere?"

"That's my condition."

"But why would I get you a boutonniere unless you were, like, my…"

"That's my point, dipshit."

"Dude!" Kenny cried, dropping his arm and inching away from Craig. "I said I wanted you to go to the dance. I didn't say with me."

"Why not?" Craig asked, as if taking your male friend as a date to the most over-hyped school function of the year was the most perfectly normal thing in the world. "You taking someone already?"

"Well, no but…"

"I'm only going," Craig cut him off, "if I get to go with you."

Kenny stared at him. "Are you…gay?"

"Maybe."

Kenny scratched his head uneasily. "Are you, like, into me?"

"Maybe."

The blond just stared at Craig open-mouthed, and Craig squirmed under his gaze.

"God, if you're so appalled by the idea, you can just say no."

"I haven't made up my mind yet."

"Forget it. I'll just stay home."

Kenny sighed. "I'll take you," he said at last.

Craig blinked. "You will?"

"But I'm not wasting my hard-earned money on some faggy flower."

"Fine," Craig agreed. "I'll buy one for both of us. But you have to pin mine on me."

"Fine," Kenny muttered. "But I'm not letting your parents take pictures on your porch or whatever."

"Fair enough."

"And you have to dance," Kenny told him. "No wall-flowering it up by the punch bowl like a fucking loser."

"Okay, I'll dance," Craig agreed. "But not to the fast songs. I don't intend to pop, lock and drop it or whatever."

"What? Come on, you gotta try a few of the fast dances."

"No."

"Will you let me teach you to country swing dance?"

"Not a—wait, you know how to country swing dance?"

"Yeah."

"Not a chance."

"You won't even do, like, the Cupid Shuffle or any of those lame line dances that everyone on the planet knows?"

"No."

"You're no fun, Craig."

"Well I'm sorry I don't want to willingly make an idiot of myself in front of the entire school."

"You're going with a dude to the prom and you're worried about people making fun of your dancing?"

"You haven't seen me dance."

Kenny huffed. "Fine. You don't have to dance to the fast songs. But if you're my date, then your slow dances belong to me and no one else. I don't care how pretty Clyde looks."

Craig was taken aback. "You…want to slow dance with me?"

"And I don't want you wearing his garter on your arm either."

"Are you gay?"

Kenny shrugged. "How should I know?"

"You've never thought about it?"

"Not really. But, hey, I'm taking a dude to a dance, right? That's gotta make me, like, a quarter gay at least."

"God Kenny." Craig's expression was halfway between amused and appalled. "You can't just conclude that you're gay based on that. Clyde's going in a dress, but that doesn't make him a tranny."

"So how do I know if I'm gay?"

"Well are you attracted to guys?"

Kenny seemed to be pondering this, staring intently at Craig, who quickly grew weary of his musings.

"It's not that hard a question. Do dudes turn you on?"

"Well, fuck, Craig. I'm a teenage boy. I get turned on watching Red Racer."

Craig rolled his eyes, then, without any sort of forewarning, lunged forward and smashed his lips against Kenny's. Kenny jerked away instinctively, giving his friend a violent shove backwards.

"What the fuck, dude?" he cried, as Craig fell on his ass a few feet away.

"I was helping you decide," Craig explained, wiping a drop of Kenny's saliva from his chin.

"By kissing me?"

"What quicker way is there?"

Kenny glared. "Even if I was gay, what makes you think I'd go for you?"

Craig shrugged. "It was worth a shot. Anyways, maybe I just wanted to kiss you."

"Huh?"

Craig stood and brushed off his sore ass. "I said…"

"I fucking heard you."

"No need to go apeshit. It was a learning experience. Now I know, for future references, that you don't want me to kiss you."

Kenny combed a hand through his blond hair, still looking mildly freaked. "Fuck, Craig…"

"I'd like to," Craig replied. "But it seems you don't like me that way."

Kenny rolled his eyes and reached for Craig's hand, pulling the brunette back down to the floor. "Get over here, you asshole."

"Kenny, what…?"

But before Craig could spit out the rest of his question, Kenny's mouth was on his once more. Craig let out a yelp of surprise, but didn't question it. Instead, he just kissed Kenny back with ferocity that neither of them realized he was capable of. The kiss was rough and wet and it was nothing like kissing a girl, but neither Craig nor Kenny seemed to mind. What felt like mere seconds later, they pulled apart, exchanging astonished glances.

"I never said…" Kenny panted, "…I didn't like you that way."

"You acted like you didn't."

"Fucker, you didn't give me any time to react. You can't just pounce on someone like a lioness to a gazelle and expect them not to freak out."

"Okay. Can I have a do-over?"

Kenny shrugged. "I guess. One more shot."

Craig leaned forward apprehensively and found Kenny's lips yet again, taking the bottom one in his teeth and giving it a gentle, questioning tug. His eyes met Kenny's and he lifted a brow as if to ask, "Is this better?" and Kenny responded with an approving nod.

The first time making out with a guy was, it seemed, as much for curiosity as it was for pleasure. For the next few minutes, tongues explored mouths, hands explored hair, and knees knocked together awkwardly. Craig's hat fell to the floor, and Kenny's orange parka was carelessly discarded. When they finally broke apart, they somehow found themselves halfway across the room, Craig's shoulders pressed against his bedroom wall and Kenny towering over him, straddling his hips.

"Kenny, I have a confession."

"What?"

"I'm gay."

Kenny smirked. "No shit."

Craig returned the grin and shoved Kenny back slightly so he could sit up straight. "Kenny, about the dance…"

"Yeah?"

He gave the blond a quick kiss on the lips. "I'll dance all the slow dances with you, as long as we get to do this during the fast ones."

Kenny rested his forehead against Craig's, smiling seductively. "You know what? I'm beginning to think we should skip the stupid prom altogether and just hang out here…"

The other boy frowned and shoved the blond out of his lap. "Fuck that, McCormick. You're taking me to that dance."

Oh my god, you guys, I had to write a short story for my creative writing class and I ended up writing something about gay guys... What's happening to me? Am I losing my ability to write anything besides slash?

Yeah, okay, please review.