Author's Note that you can probably ignore: Wow. Hi! So welcome to my first Bunny (Butters x Kenny) fanfiction! :D It's all finished so I'll be able to update regularly. My other fic is still 'write-as-I-go' and since I'm such a lousy updater (I'm so sorry, it makes me feel so guilty D:) I thought I should finish this one before I posted it so it'd be easier. The story will be five chapters long in total (not including any possible epilogues) and it's the longest fanfiction I've written so far in terms of word length so yeah, I'm really proud of it and hope you'll stick around and enjoy it too! I started this without being a big shipper of Bunny but after getting into writing it I realized OHMYGOSH THEY ARE SO CUTE HOW COULD YOU NOT SHIP IT?! x3

Trigger Warning: Contains mentions of child abuse, swearing, alcohol, tobacco and drug use, violence, brief mentions of sexual activity and of course a gay pairing. I don't think anything is really too severe or explicit though but if you are sensitive to these things, you have been warned.

I do not own South park or any of it's characters, they belong to Matt Stone and Trey Parker. Inspired by the song 'Nikki' by Forever the Sickest Kids, any lyrics used are their property.

CHAPTER 1

He was the man of every hour

He was a party all alone

He'd give his jacket to a stranger in the cold

She was the beauty queen from Dallas

She could put a lion on a leash

And before he knew himself

She knew the man that he could be

Butters POV

Kenny McCormick. The guy who everyone said was bad news, the guy who I should stay away from, the guy who didn't care about anyone. There were many words that people used to describe him; slut, player, wild, reckless, uncaring, stupid, and worthless. I could add plenty more adjectives to that list but I'm sure you could ask anyone. The thing is, what I've been battling with, is that despite my classmate's reputation being as filthy as a dishrag, I maybe, sort of like him. Okay, fine, I might as well admit it.

I, Leopold Stotch, have a crush on the one person I'm not supposed to look at twice.

Oh gosh, if my parents knew that, they'd almost definitely ground me! I remember when I came out to them as gay just half a year ago I barely saw the light of day for two solid months. Oh jeez… they'd never approve of me dating anybody unless it was a lady. And even they have an opinion of Kenny's family. The McCormicks as a whole are known by the town for being a poor 'white trash' family. It's common knowledge that the mother and father are alcoholics and on welfare and the kids are known to be trouble.

But I know that Kenny is more than that, he isn't just the nobody without a life that everyone seems to see. I had always liked him, I think. I mean I noticed him a long time before now, heck we used to be friends back in elementary school, I even took him to Hawaii with me back when we were ten years old believe it or not! We were just kids then though, so I brushed off whatever it was about him that caused me to favour him over everyone else in class.

But when we entered middle school, whatever scrap of a friendship we had seemed to fade into a awkward acquaintanceship; we didn't talk much, maybe saying one or two sentences to each other. And while it was when we entered high school that I realized my sexuality and attraction to him, by then our interactions had been obliterated and our social circles were already spun in complete opposite directions.

While I achieved straight As on my report card, always did the right thing and just became even more of a goody two shoes then ever while my parents kept a close eye on me, he completely rejected the rules; often disregarding the importance of his attendance at school and failing all of his tests, as if he didn't care at all. He wasn't stupid though, no matter how much everyone, himself included, believed it. I just knew he wasn't, he simply never tried to achieve good results s'all. If he did he'd probably be getting just the same grades on his report card as me.

And, to be honest, it was his misfit rebellious attitude that I loved so much, he was the person I could never dare to be and I admired that about him. Though I'd never admit it, I wished I could not care about the consequences that seem to rule my life, it seemed so much more exciting and by now I am beyond bored with being the perfect son. My parents would ground me if I ever strayed from maintaining my 'flawless' image however. Oh hamburgers, I really don't want that…

No, let's change that train of thought. "Kenny McCormick," the name sounds dangerous and spicy on my tongue but I like it and repeat it several times over; whispering each syllable like it's my own dirty little secret. My breath catches suddenly as a flash of a familiar shade of orange catches my eye from outside the window of my bedroom. I timidly look through the cold glass of the pane and my heart starts fluttering all at once. It's him, he's outside.

I watch as he trudges through the freshly fallen snow, donning his signature beaten-up parka with the hood pulled up over his face and jeans that were so full of holes it was a miracle his legs never got frostbite from the snow that got through to them. All of a sudden he moves his hand up to his face and pushes the hood back onto his shoulders and my chest seems to tighten when the late day's sun lights up his straw coloured shaggy hair that only serves to increase his attractiveness tenfold. I could gaze at him forever but he's headed somewhere else and my house just happens to be on his way.

My eyes trail after him while I hide the rest of my body behind the curtains, petrified of being caught in the act. But that isn't a big enough hindrance for me to not watch as he stops in front of the homeless man who's been camping out by the alleyway that connects the road I live on to an adjacent one leading to the rich part of town. His mouth moves; Kenny's sharing his voice with the stranger with a pitiful life, yet despite his unfortunate lifestyle I can't help but feel just the slightest twang of jealousy. A moment later and Kenny's pulling off his jacket and handing it over, a smile on his face in response to the beggar's look of disbelief at such an offering.

After a few more seconds of the blond holding it with his arm outstretched does the man take it and try it on. It's torn and probably wouldn't sell for a high price anywhere but it looks warm and the homeless man's face is lit up like it's Christmas. I continue to gaze as he tries to reply to Kenny's gift, offering up his last slice of the tiny pizza he had, only to see Kenny shake his head and laugh warmly before waving and walking off back towards his original destination, seemingly oblivious to the snow pelting down upon him and coating his thin grey t-shirt with freezing white. He looks back over his shoulder once before disappearing from sight, to see the jacket's recipient curled up under the scrap of the box and already asleep.

When I can no longer see the back of him I'm pulled back to reality. I notice my breath has fogged up the window by now and I trace a heart into the steam. Blushing at my stupidly innocent act, I spin away from the window and pressed my back against the wall. I don't understand why no one else can see that Kenny is a selfless person. Sure, he doesn't abide by society's rules much, but that didn't change the fact that he had just given his coat to a stranger in the cold as if it was no inconvenience at all. I shrink downwards into a sitting position on the recently vacuumed brown carpet and sigh.

"Kenny McCormick." My lips dance once more around the sound of his name.

I made up my mind; for once in my life I didn't care if no one would take me seriously, or approve of what I longed for, or even if I was rejected mercilessly. I'm going to ask Kenny McCormick out on a date tomorrow. Because to me he is everything I want. He's pure, unappreciated, imperfect perfection~

"Butters!" My mother's voice calls from downstairs, knocking me out of my reverie. I know it's me she's calling; Butters has been my nickname for as long as I can remember and everyone addresses me by it. I'm not quite sure how it stuck, most likely my last name played a role, but it has stuck like bubble gum through the years. I don't even know if my own parents remember my real name any more.

"C-coming Mom," I jump up and head down to find her waiting at the foot of the stairs.

"There's my angel," she smiles at me. It's her usual expression; a forced grin that's too wide to appear natural. She's been wearing it ever since I came out to her and she fell into denial instantaneously, but hey, at least she's still smiling. Even after that 'pray-the-gay-away' camp they sent me too didn't work she kept that grin on her face. "Run on in to the kitchen, dinner will be ready soon and the dishes need to be washed,"

"Well sure mom," I duck around her into our family kitchen; the kitchen I've had all my life, it never fails to make me smile with its smells of yummy food. Dad is sitting at the dining table, reading his daily paper but I can see him watching me out of the corner of my eye.

I start filling the sink with water and sway the bubbles from the washing-up liquid around in a whirlpool, giggling as one manages to fly up and tickle my nose. The first few plates are already up on the rack and drying in minutes so I go to reach for one of the used glass cups on the counter. A bad move.

My hands are slippery and it slides out of my grip before I can do anything. I feel my eyes squeeze tight as the fragile glass makes contact with the unforgiving kitchen floor.

A smash!

A shatter!

A voice filled with fury!

They all fill my ears and force my eyes open only to have them lock with my father's. He's the owner of the voice. "BUTTERS! How dare you?! Don't you have any respect for your mother and I?!" His face, flushed red with rage, seems to be taking up my entire field of vision. I can't focus.

"Butters, how could you do this? You know how hard your parents work to raise you and then…" Mom is standing behind him, her eyes are completely filled with disappointment and that makes me feel awful. Her smile has fallen.

"No Linda, I'll handle this. And then you just throw it all back in our face! Well now you have to deal with spending the night OUTSIDE! That should teach you." He crosses his arms and I know there's no arguing.

"Y-yes sir," I cast my gaze to my feet. Why am I such a disrespectful kid? When god made me he must of done screwed something up because I'm just all wrong. I deserve to sleep outside. Well, I hope it does me good and then I'll learn my lesson! Even though I-I don't really see what I did wrong… My inner monologue is cut short by my mother.

"But Steven, why can't we just ground him? My baby could be eaten by wolves or catch hypothermia!" My mother protests as my father pulls me towards the door and chucks me through the door and into the snow.

"Grounding doesn't seem to be working with him, can't you see Linda? He's out of control! He'll be fine, he can have a blanket." He comforts her and tosses an old fleecy one from when we went camping once out with me. "You can come back when you've learnt how to not be such a disappointment to our family," is the last thing I hear before he loudly slams the door.

I wrap it around myself, it's a poor substitute for my jacket but at least it's something, and head over to my favourite place in the world. Hopefully I can spend the night there.