Ides of Idle

By StarWolf

3/22/2006

Title: Ides of Idle
Author: StarWolf (elendraug at yahoo dot com)
Fandom: South Park
Rating: PG
Genre: Fluff or gen or something.
Pairing: slight Stan x Kenny (we need more of this pairing. wtf.)
Warnings: Slashy. Language. Blah.
Disclaimer: Trey's and Matt's, not mine. I love you guys. I'll miss you, Isaac...you hypocrite. D:
Distribution: No archiving plzkthx.
Summary: Cat's Cradle and exhaust fumes.
Author's Notes: Happy birthday, Kenny! X333 Set during "The Passion of the Jew."

Hooray for the new season! First ep was a mindfuck, huh?

"This is the longest fucking bus ride ever."

Kenny nods, eyes shielded from the midafternoon sun by wrinkled, orange cloth. "Well, Miami to Denver... Heh, at least we got our money back." Reluctantly, he sits up straighter and drowsily regards Stan.

"Guy's a total nutjob, alright."

"...'nutjob'?"

Stan lightly punches him in the shoulder. "Perv."

Grin. "I know."

"Damn, though," Stan muses, scooting over to watch miles of dull scenery speed bumpily by. "We probably won't get back until dark."

"Oh, quit bitching, dude. The flight to Scotland was way longer, and Cartman wouldn't even let me watch the in-flight movie." He folds his arms and leans against Stan's back, staring over his shoulder and out the window. "Plus, we don't have to hear the fatass argue with Kyle for a few hours."

"Mmm. True." Stan presses his cheek to the faintly-warm glass.

Minutes pass uneventfully. Turning his head, Stan speaks against the side of Kenny's hoodie.

"We should do something."

"Like what?"

Stan shrugs, and Kenny grunts at the inevitable jostling. "I dunno, a game or something."

"We already played I-Spy and Twenty Questions. I'm out of ideas."

"Gimme your shoe."

"What?"

"I said, give me your shoe."

"Okaaay," he drawls, skeptical, as he reaches down to yank off a sneaker. Kenny shifts back against the seat and frowns as Stan tugs out the shoelace, then returns it. Kenny slides it back onto his foot. "What the hell?"

"Dude, I'm gonna use mine, too. Shut up for a second." Stan undoes one of his own laces, then knots together the ends of both. "Butters taught me this on the way to Aspen." He loops the shoelaces around his hands, folds them over, slides his fingers through their opposing sides, and holds the makeshift string out to Kenny. "Here."

Kenny stares at him. "What do I do?"

Stan inclines his head towards the string, motioning towards it in a vague and entirely unhelpful gesture. "See the parts where they cross? The X bits? Use your thumbs and pointers to-- yeah, that's-- no, not-- there, stop! Okay, now move your hands up and through-- there you go."

Slightly confused, Kenny watches as Stan lets go, then does...something, and offers him the string again. "Okay, now you use your pinkies to sort of pull in opposite directions..."

Kenny tries several times but ends up with his fingers in a tangled mess. Shaking his head, he dumps the knot of chaos on top of Stan's hat. "Fuck that, dude. It takes too long."

Stan rolls his eyes. "Do you have any better ideas?"

"Yeah."

Slouching sideways, Kenny rests his head against Stan's shoulder. The air in the bus is somewhat stuffy, but the occasional breeze eases it; overall, far better than frigid Colorado wind -- for a while, at least. They've still got a long way to go. Smiling, he interlocks their gloved fingers together, and doesn't notice when his too-loose shoe falls off.

"I'm gonna go back to sleep."