It was always at Cartman's. Always under the blanket. That hand would creep up my thigh, tug at the buttons of my pants. I'd shift away, but that hand would follow me. I'd glance over to him, watching the smirk on his face. But he'd always look ahead. Eyes fixed on the television screen. As if nothing was happening.

That night I purposefully sat next to Stan, making small chatter waiting for Cartman to set up the system. Despite having four controllers he always chose two player games. It was as if the fatass was in on the sick game.

Despite my intentions, Kenny shifted over to my other side, nestling in between Cartman and myself.

Cartman and Kenny got the first round, giving me a little time to shift closer to Stan, who was by then shooting me strange looks. But like in life, Kenny died, over and over until his characters lives ran out. Cartman was laughing and Kenny just shrugged, reached back, and draped the blanket over both of our laps.

"Kenny" I murmured, enough to attract his attention. His hand rested on my knee and rubbed with a skilled touch.

"Kyle." He acknowledged back. I made a soft annoyed sound and pulled my knee away from him. "Kyle." He said again, his tone warning.

I shot him a look and he smirked back, grabbing onto my leg and jerking me closer. A soft squeak escaped my lips that no one appeared to hear. Our thighs were touching and his hand, oh god his hand. Missed the thigh, straight to the crotch.

My back arched. Body betraying mind. He had my zipper open. It was the first time Kenny had went this far. I sat there, body rigid. Afraid to speak. Afraid to move. And then... he had my cock in his calloused hand.

I couldn't breathe. Why was the room spinning? Oh god. Oh fucking god.

But he didn't move. He just held it. Like it was some kind of precious china. The smirk never left his face. I started to squirm. I wanted to say his name. I wanted him to let go. To move. To do something!

His hand began to move. Slow. Rubbing my flesh. Being careful. But it wasn't enough, and he knows this. I tried carefully to move, my hips pushing up slightly, trying to create greater contact. But he moves his hand away.

"God damn it Kenny!"

And everyone was looking at me.

"I.. I wanted a chance to play..." I told the guys lamely.

"Oh I'm sorry Kahhl. Did the Jew want to play?"

I glanced at the game and realized the main characters are nazis. I slumped back down and moveed to tuck myself in when I felt a hand grab me again.

I murmured under my breath, just enough that only he could hear me. "Don't tease me Kenny..."

And it's enough. He tightened his grip on my cock and began to stroke, slow, so not to alert the others. I closed my eyes and arched my back a little, rocking my hips into the touch. Biting my tongue to keep from whimpering, he started to stroke faster, rubbing his thumb over the slit of my dick, spreading the precum from base to tip.

I couldn't help but moan quietly under my breath. Kenny's smirk widened and I looked away, biting down on my thumb.

"You okay man?" Stan asked and I didn't trust my voice so I nodded.

And it's all over. Fast, too fast. I covered my mouth with my hand. Kenny pulled away and we both glanced down at the sticky substance trailing down his fingers. He caught my eye and winked. I don't know what happened.

And it's all over. Fast, too fast.