Hiya! So this is a Bunny fic. Honestly, I can't get enough of this couple, so this is how I figure their story would play out. I hope you enjoy – the plot's all worked out and trust me, it's gonna be a fun ride! There are also mentions of Wendy/Stan/Kyle – stay tuned for that, cos I plan to write their story after this one. There's a song that goes with each chapter, just in case you want to listen as you read.

DISCLAIMER: if I owned South Park, Trey Parker would be in my pants 24/7.

~ "Oh No", Marin and the Diamonds ~

Kenny

I've never been what you would call... reserved when it comes to sex. Bored out of my mind in a house full of drunks, at 7 years old I stumbled on my first porn magazine. My dad's, hidden behind the toilet. From the moment I laid my eyes on the centre piece fold-out I was hooked. With nothing else to do but listen to my parents fight, I busied myself with learning as much as I could about this fascinating sport. Soon, I was renowned for my sexual knowledge: I even had 6th graders asking my advice at recess. Let me tell you, the power felt good. To be honest, it was the only thing that got me noticed. I tended to blend into the background when the sex encyclopaedia in my head wasn't wanted.

It wasn't long before I started experimenting. First blow job at 9, I think that's some kinda record. Must be. Plus there was that suffocating-masturbation thing. Gotta say, best time I ever died.

Anyway. So at 17 I'm bored. I've done pretty much every girl in the school. And you know what? I'm underwhelmed. I mean don't get me wrong, they were great. It's not like I don't like these girls: I respect the hell out of them. I even went steady with a couple. Fairly sure Bebe's planning our wedding now, though officially we're not together any more. And sure, to start with, sex was great. Really great. But... there's only so much you can do with a girl before it all gets a bit... old, y'know? It's not like I haven't tried branching out. Hey, I even gave Cartman's mom a run (definitely high on the list for best screws, btw). I guess you could say I'm looking for some new thrills.

So I'm sitting in shop class, as far away from the electric saw as I can get, and this kid keeps grabbing my attention. He's stacking up his waste wood neatly, smiling softly to himself. He's completely oblivious to the classroom full of shouts and screeches of machinery, totally absorbed in a little bubble of calm. I think I can catch him singing happily under his breath. I grin. But apparently my creepy stare is too much, and he looks up, dismayed. Baffled at my attention, he waves slightly, then edges over to the sander and tries to ignore me. I chuckle under my breath.

"Dude, what's the deal?"

"Huh?" I murmur from under my hood. Kyle's giving me an odd look.

"Don't play dumb. That hasn't worked on me since that time with the dildo. You were totally giving Butters the hairy eyeball!"

Hairy eyeball? Jeez, Kyle no-one says that any more. But I just shrug and grin at him and he rolls his eyes. He's used to me staring at chicks and he's never made a comment before. Guess he must be projecting or something. He's seriously closeted, especially when it comes to Stan.

So anyway. I spend the rest of the class stealing glances at Butters. The kid's always kinda fascinated me. He takes more shit than me, I swear, and yet he still comes into school every day with that goofy smile on his face, ready to be nice to everyone that gives him hell. But today is different. Maybe it's cos I'm bored. Maybe it's cos I'm horny as hell. But as I watch him potter about the classroom I feel that sensation start to burn in my stomach.

Definitely a new thrill.

Class ends all too soon. I was all ready to chase Butters out of the classroom, corner him by his locker or something. I dunno. I don't really do planning. Luckily, most of the girls in the school have the forethought enough to carry condoms otherwise, let me tell you, I'd be in the maternity wing every other week. In any case, I jump up to follow Butters when old Adler holds me back. Thanks to my (sensible!) wariness of belt sanders, saws, drills and the like, I almost never get anything completed for this class. So it's the same old rant, "you've gotta stop screwin' around, start doin' work, you'll flunk this class" yadda yadda, and all the time I'm thinking Butters is gonna be long gone and too far away for me to... what, exactly? I mean, am I seriously considering pursuing this guy? Butters is like the most repressed kid I know. I'll probably just damage him even more with my advances, let alone get his father angry. That guy's so screwed up, Butters gets grounded for so much as breathing wrong. God knows what his dad'll do if he finds out he's queer...

And what if he's not? Rejection's not exactly something I'm used to. I may be the poorest kid in school but the edgy, bad boy vibe gets the girl every time. But what if I get shot down? What if Butters tells everyone I'm a fag? Not that I care that much – my reputation couldn't get any sluttier – but I really don't need Cartman's shit right now. Not with finals coming up.

I'm so lost in these thoughts, and trust me, this doesn't happen often, that I don't realise Adler's stopped talking until he throws a chalk eraser at me in frustration.

"Young man, did you hear anything I just said?"

I nod ferociously, hoping that will be enough. Thankfully, he has a date or something, so he lets me go with only a few more mutterings about "screwing around". Little does he know, but that's exactly what I intend to do.

By the time I get out into the hall everyone's quit school for the day, leaving the corridors deserted. Needless to say, there's no sign of my current favourite blond. I sigh, annoyed. Probably a good thing I missed my chance though. I really need to keep my hormones in check. After all, screwing (with) poor naive Butters? Not exactly what Brian Boitano would do.

Before I flock to the bus stop to join my friends though, I stomp off to the toilet. For some reason, I don't think I can handle Stan and Wendy's cooing (and Kyle's jealous stares) just yet.

The door to the bathroom swings open quietly and I saunter into a stall. I'm more of a urinal type of guy, but deep contemplation needs to be sat on a toilet seat. I stay there for a bit, glaring moodily at the doodles on the walls. Bebe's a slut apparently. There's a tally of how many guys have had her. I'm pretty sure at least 7 of those strikes are mine, though. I get a bit eager with a Sharpie. Remembering past flings with a grin, I barely notice the stall door next to me opening as someone sidles out. Eventually I break out of my lusty reverie, flushing and opening the door.

And I freeze.

There's a chick here.

She's standing at the sink, gazing into the mirror as she does her makeup. She's got this cute little white number on; it barely grazes the bottom of her tight ass. Best legs I've ever seen and hair that sticks out from her head in an adorable pixie cut. There's a sordid grin plastered on my face as I glance into the mirror to check out her features and then... Holy crap.

My heart starts pounding and I can feel my blood heat up.

That chick is... That chick is Butters.

My mouth drops open of its own accord, but thankfully he's so absorbed in applying lip gloss that he doesn't notice me hiding in the shadows. He's singing that cute song from earlier – "lululu, I'm puttin' on gloss, lululu, you can too..."

I can't... my mind can't get a hold of this image. Hot chick and Butters rolled into one? It's my fucking dream come true, man! I never realised this before but gender bending? Totally up my street, apparently.

And he still hasn't noticed me.

I can use this.

Treading as softly as possible, I edge closer to Butters. As the smaller boy is on tiptoes to lean in closer to the mirror, my height doesn't give me away as I get near enough to touch him. His back's almost pressed against mine and this fresh, intoxicating perfume fills my head. My God, I want him so badly, it's all I can do to stop my fast breathing from giving me away.

"...that eyeshadow really works on you", I whisper into his neck. I'm so close I can almost feel his body tense as he realises I'm there. In the mirror, his eyes widen, terrified, and he falls back on his heels, crashing into my chest. It's a feeling I don't much mind. Squeaking, he twists himself around so he's backed up against the sink. Again, not a position I don't enjoy seeing.

"K-Kenny! Wha...how...oh hamburgers!"

His fists bump together frantically while I admire how his face delicately flushes, heightened by the perfectly applied makeup. Jeez, he does it better than most girls I know.

"What are y'doin' here?"

I raise an eyebrow and smirk. "It's a free bathroom, Butters. Or should I say... Buttina?" I chuckle at my pun, which goes over his head completely.

"Marjorine," he corrects, then throws a hand over his mouth. "I mean...let me go!"

"Huh? Oh." I realise I'm still kinda pinning him against the sink so I take a step back.

There's a pause. I think he doesn't quite know what to do. But just when I open my mouth reassure him, he dashes out of the bathroom, stopping only to say "jus-just stay away from me!" before he's out the door.

Shit.

I wince.

Probably didn't handle that so well, looking at it in hindsight. I just couldn't help myself! Seeing him there, all delicate and innocent and...well...hot, I just HAD to mess with him a little.

And now he's gone.

And probably thinks I'm a complete perv.

I blew it.

Sighing, I stomp out. But just before I leave I notice a huddle of clothes in the stall next to mine. I scoop them up.

Perfect. Now I have an excuse to talk to him again.

As I saunter home I grin. If there's anything I love, it's the chase.