The back corners of any party-you know the ones.

The where the shitty Christmas lights hung around the whole fucking house like it's a college dorm that everybody seems to think adds some sort of cool thing that's in every indie music video. Yet in regards to here-at Token's mansion-looks more like a last half assed effort for decorating.

Where the lights seem the dimmest and the pot is at its most potent, as well as most knock over solo cups, empty cans, and other articles of trash are kicked into like we subconsciously hope a void opens up and swallows the rubbish so we don't have to deal with the clean up; Or that I am sucked in also.

And last but not least-where you are at the perfect spot to watch all your aquatints having the time of their lives; adrenaline pumping through them and blood rushing to their cheeks, booze and marijuana enhancing the feeling of rhythms pulsing throughout the house. Digital bass drums and synthetic high hats sending vibrations under our feet and possible shaking the ice sickles from the gutters outside. Occasionally, a song you know will pop up in the playlist that you hadn't heard in years. You still know the lyrics, start tapping your foot and It's even worse when the beat is infect-

I-I mean, that's lame, dude.

Shut up.

"This is fucking lame." I said with a big sigh, no one could hear me over the music anyway. Some one could have read my lips, but that would require some one to being looking at me, which is as possible as me, spontaneously combusting mid sentence.

I can't believe I even tried to dress up for this thing; I wore some old white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to be casual, black jeans and dress shoes from a wedding I went to months ago. Still wearing my green ushanka, because nothing says getting rejected from a party like a fiery Jew fro.

I sigh again, realizing I'm depressing myself; swishing around the awful, random brand of beer the host of this party could get within an hour of it starting. Sure, more drinks came in droves, but honestly I'm not here to get wasted and wake up hung over on somebody's lawn. Most of the drinks are kept in the kitchen, unfortunately that's where most of the people I'd rather not be seen with are.

Center of the room I hear a scream, only to find Bebe Stevens getting swung around bridal style in Token Black's arms. I rolled my eyes as the two crash onto a near by couch and proceed to make out for all to see. Great; any appetite I had is now gone. It's not like I had a thing for her or anything, there was that time we had like a thing in fifth grade but who really counts that shit?

Now at this moment you may be asking me-Kyle, if you hate this party so goddamn much why don't you just leave? Well, that is because my ride is probably off throwing up on his girlfriend while attempting to get to third base, and I was actually invited to this thing, which rarely even happens.

Don't really know why I was asked to come here, but here I am nauseous and sober.

I take another swig as a shadowy figure sneaks up beside me to wraps an arm around my shoulders, pulling me into him and electing a girlish scream I prayed no one heard. I dropped my cup and turned to greet my assailant and possible date raper when the Cheshire grinning face of Kenny McCormick-local assailant and date raper- greeted me.

"Unproven date raper, please," He talks into my ear so I can hear him.

"Whatever. What's up?" I say back. I could tell that he's been smoking because the pungent pot smell increased, his old orange parka just an air freshener for drugs.

"Kyle, that is so rude." Kenny pouted. Get out of my head, dick. "Glad you could make it, I was worried that invite didn't get out."

"You invited me?" Why the hell and who the hell let Kenny McCormick send out invites to a Token Black party? "Why?"

Kenny rolled his eyes, "The only reason we could never get out to one of these get-togethers was because Cartman's a fucking prick who think's you'd ruin it-" Has a point "-Shut it," He responded, matter-of-factly. "And also because Wendy isn't your biggest fan."

"And Stan is super whipped," I added.

"Bingo."

I crossed my arms, only then realizing Kenny's arm was still wrapped around me. I look at him and raise a brow only for him to shrug, followed by a subtle eyebrow wiggle. Class is not a word many people would associate with Kenny here, along with clean and drug free or sane a good majority of the time.

"Kyle why haven't you ever tried to date anyone?"

Subtle. Subtle is another word I would not associate him with.

"What are you talking about," I asked fully knowing what he was in fact talking about.

Kenny removed his arm from my person, leaving behind an odd sense of cold. I never notice how warm he was, the space we shared was my nice little corner normally fit for one now housing two. I could feel his breathing, sense his presence in this dark part of the house with my eyes closed. It was oddly the most calming fact in this hectic shindig.

Uh, please disregard that and the fact I said the word shindig un-ironically.

Kenny chuckled to himself, as if he knew so much more than I did about my love life. "Kyle, you couldn't spot a love life in a police line-up let alone comprehend one. And besides, we're friends! Let me in, man."

I sighed, dropping my glance to the spot on the floor my awful drink seeped into the carpet and its cup swayed seemingly to the music. "Ken, I don't really click with many people like…that," I say carefully. "I never have, it's weird but it's been like that forever."

Kenny rose a hand to his chin. "Didn't you date Bebe, like, years ago?"

What did I just say, like five minutes ago. "Exactly, years ago. Hell that was like elementary, Ken. How does anything in that time count?"

Kenny shrugged. "I don't know, man. Saw some good shit in that time."

Ew. "Okay, so I haven't had a real relationship. I mean maybe one confusing sleepover with Stan once or twice but other than that not really."

Kenny pouted again, his lips pursed out and with our shared spaced…I felt the oddest urge to lean in.

"So…never huh?" He shifted from one foot to the other, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Don't you ever think about maybe giving it an honest shot at someone?"

"Pffft," I laughed, was that a rhetorical question? "And with who, huh? Who would have a thing for some peppermint patty Jew?"

For a split second, I swore I saw the faintest glare twinge in his eyes before he shook his head and laughed. "Kyle, that's fucking dumb. Who doesn't have a thing for the frail with red hair?"

"Everybody," I deadpanned. "The answer to that riddle is everybody."

"Well riddle me, bitch," He leaned in again, another creepy Kenny McCormick trademark grin. "what if I told you somebody does?"

What. "What? Who, wait why?" I asked with the exclusion of when and where, before backing down and shaking my head. "Nevermind, don't care."

"Uh-uh, nope," he wagged a finger. "First off, they're actually at this very party-"

What. "Where?" I teetered on begging, like a fucking dog for a treat.

"Secondly," He chuckled, "You have to dance with me."

"Excuse me." I stared.

"You heard me," He shimmied left and right to the music around us, "You, and me. Come out of this corner and hit the center floor with the rest of them."

"You know I don't dance, Kenny," I glare, placing my hands on my hips."

Kenny started bobbing his head to the beat, "You danced all the time growing up."

He can't be serious. "Surely, you can't be serious."

"Oh I am deadly serious, curly cue," He winked as he added, "and don't call me Shirley."

With that, he somehow got hold of one of my wrists and begun to pull me away from the safety and serene corner for losers and into the lights and sounds that I tried to hide from. Bodies clashed with me after Kenny seemed to seep through them with ease, his hand was so warm and slid away from my wrist to lock tight around my hand.

I held on with my life, oddly fearing some random person to realize I was there and to toss me out. In the end I found us in a small circle only slightly bigger than the space we stood moments before. The fucking music had morphed in our travel, from awful pop I'd bet money Bebe asked to be played to whatever new age rock I can guess belonged to Craig Tucker. He and Kenny had some band, neither really tried to be big or anything as of them starting a few weeks ago.

Speaking of Kenny, he was holding me so goddamn close. I was probably blushing; oh god people are probably looking. The idea only made me more nervous, making standing a heavy feat for the moment. His parka sleeve stretching as I absent-mindedly clung onto it in fear.

"Kenny, you dick," my legs shook and I glanced around at the surging bodies who seemed oblivious to the world around them.

"Hey, hey," He cooed, his arms snaking around my waist. I let go long enough to smack them away only for one of his hands grabbed hold of one of mine in an instant. He pulled me back in and twirled me, before pulling me back in close.

"K-Kenny," I stammered, my face hot. "What the fuck-"

"Shhh," He hissed, "This is my favorite song."

With that he let go and started to sway with the rhythm, leaving me to stand like a support beam for the dance floor. Bodies closed in around me, unable to take my eyes off the blonde sashaying away from me. I gulped; I couldn't last here without him at that point. So with the strength that I could posses, I forced my way through the crowd of students I could and could not recognize before find my way to the end.

I was met with the source of the music, a sound system connected to multiple speakers around the room and one MacBook covered in band stickers. Typical.

"Hey, where are you going?" I heard his voice behind me when I pulled back into the fray. I'm turned to face him again and I'm suddenly caught in his eyes, I've never seen them so…blue. Ugh, what the hell is even happening anymore?

"Kenny, what the hell is going on?" I was starting to get annoyed, "Why do you want to dance with me so bad?"

He couldn't hear me or chose not to, instead he was lost in the music; his head nodding to the beat and bouncing him and me along with it. He glanced back and we stood so close our nose bumped against each other; my fucking heart leapt up into my throat, his eyes were so deep, like I could just barely see my face in the lighting. His lips were moving as we dance, but he wasn't speaking to me. He was singing to me.

I would wake up next to you if I could,

And I would stare straight past them all to you,

He took hold and swung me around against a few of those around us, almost forgetting there were even people there. His focus was solely on me, frighteningly so. When I broke eye contact, I noticed quickly how many were watching, some were clapping along and dancing while others were trying to figure out if it was me or not.

I looked back at Kenny, only to be swung around again and pulled in close. The song had gone by so fast; we were swinging so fast I thought I would throw up, or go flying if his hands weren't clinging so tightly to my waist.

I can never say it like I sing it yeah,

Drunk talent cuz we're fading, yeah

But I'll be, I'll be, I'll be the first to say,

His lips had me hypnotized, lame I know but Christ. I don't what was coming over me. Something Kenny was doing to me had me smiling and dancing. Dancing.

I was fucking dancing!

Just as the song was about to end, Kenny dipped me like some prom dance routine and every around took a step back from this spectacle that was surely to be in the school paper, if not on the goddamn news.

And he pulled me back up, and the last chorus went on. And we watched each other…and we were both blushing really bad.

You know, two friends caught up in the moment; heated in the face from dancing very friendly with each other.

But then he kissed me…H-He kissed me.

Oh. Oh.

His hands slid from my hips to my lower back and held me close, my hands pressed against his chest with eyes wide open. I opened my mouth to shout, only to be persuaded not to by Kenny's tongue-who waged a fine argument.

Oddly enough we weren't pelted by tomatoes, due to many times people have and have not been gay in South Park. So this kind of thing was only big in the mind set that Kenny, who's dabbled in banging a person or two, was kissing me, Kyle Broflovski, whom the last person was to kiss him was his mother before leaving the house the night of the party.

Another tidbit I'd like to add was...I wasn't pulling away. I mean, I couldn't-he held me so tight like he was scared of dropping me. A hand snaked up from my lower back and up to my head where he knocked my head off and combed his fingers through my hair. He hummed against my lips as he did so, it tickled so much I actually smiled into his kiss.

When he pulled away, I could tell after we both had a second to breathe that he too was absolutely terrified by what he had just done. Maybe he didn't mean to, or just was caught up in the moment? Either way, with all the eyes on us he figured shelter in a private spot to most certainly get his fucking ass kicked.

Friendly ass kicking is how I show affection, relax.

He took my hand and pulled me away with him, out of the living room/dance floor and into the forum; up the stairs and turning the handle to the first door that budged. Inside was a room with only one bed, one nightstand, and a closet with a window facing a view across South Park.

"Kenny, hold on!" I shouted, only to be thrown into the room against a bed as he turned to lock the door. "Dude what the fuck is going on?! What was that? What are you-"

"Shut up for a sec!" He barked, panting with his head against the door. "I'm…I'm sorry just, " he sighed, "Just give me a second."

I glared, but agreed; I sat down on the bed with my arms crossed. I might've looked like a pissed off little boy, burning holes into the carpeted floor. My hair was frazzled with my hat being lost somewhere on the dance floor, my mouth incredibly dry, and my stomach doing gymnastics while high fiving my heart mid flips.

"Ok," Kenny finally spoke after a few minutes, having turned to lean against the door, "I admit that wasn't very thought out."

I turned to look at him, my glare softened slightly while we sat in silence. "What wasn't thought out? Your plan to embarrass me?"

Kenny chuckled, a tinge of bitterness in it. "I didn't plan to embarrass you, Kyle. If anything I-"

"Planned to get me to lose my chance with this mysterious person who may like me?" I snapped, before I stopped to realize what was going on. "This is some fucking prank from you and fat-ass, isn't?"

Kenny perked up, "What? No, that's-"

"It is isn't!" I shouted, rising from the bed and standing close to him. "Well good job, asswipe! It worked!"

"Goddamn it, Kyle!" He shouted in my face, scaring the shit out of me as I took a big step away from him. "Shit…shit, I'm sorry. Look this wasn't a prank all right? Eric isn't involved in anyway, shape, or form."

I stood cautious, hardly looking at him anymore. "You swear?"

Kenny held out his hands, "There is physically not enough room for him to fit in my plans."

Okay, I laughed a little at that. I'm human and Cartman is fat. Facts.

"Well then…why?"

Kenny frowned, dropping his hands to his sides. "I don't know how to explain it."

"Try," I told him, "at least try. Either way, I can't be locked in here until you figure it out." I glance at the window.

He deadpanned me. "Kyle, I would put money on it that even if this room was on fire you would be to pussy to jump out that window."

"How much?" I dared, a smirk forming.

He smirked wider, "I could cut my losses and throw you out. I could live from that, but I'm not as sure Judaism could revive you."

Crap. He had a point. "Then what the fuck, Kenny? You invite me, make me dance in front of tens of people-"

"Hey, hey! I made you dance for like the first twenty percent of the song," He grinned, "the rest was all in that booty of yours."

"Get your thoughts off my ass!" I snapped.

"Get your ass of my thoughts!" He mocked. "Anyway…Kyle remember when I asked you about your dating history?"

"The lack of there of, yes."

Kenny shook his head, walking towards me as a fleeting thought of the window graces my mind. "I asked because I was curious. I was curious because…"

Soon he was as close to me as he was on the dance floor, his breath warm on my face as he looked into my eyes. My breathing quickened, my face grew hot, and I couldn't keep from playing with my hands as he spoke. "…I like you, Kyle. Like a lot, man."

Holy shit.

"Holy shit is the correct response, " He said with a sigh.

"How are you doing that-nevermind!" I snapped, trying to look anywhere but at him. "Why?"

"Why do I like you?" He asked, his voice low.

I swallowed, suddenly very nervous. "Y-Yeah…"

He breathed a sigh, taking hold of my fidgeting hands, "To be honest, I don't even know. Maybe it's how we interact, you're funny, smart, funny to piss off."

I looked up to glare. "Charming."

Kenny stared. "And you're not pulling away?"

Shit…

"Well…" I started, but faltered. "Look Ken, I mean…"

He looked at me and I could feel his hands shaking, his eyes showing no sign of confidence like they did on the dance floor and he was putty in my own anxious hands. I could see the scars on them, the times he'd gotten hurt, the ones around his neck more faded from years ago; I couldn't bare to see this Kenny.

"Tell me this," I started, seeing his interested piqued, "did you know that this was a bedroom before bringing me here?"

Kenny's cheeks tinted a bright red hue as he fought a grin. "N-No…"

"Lying is rude," I stated, "Okay...what if I said I had fun tonight?"

Kenny then smiled, more of his fear melting away. "I'd be pretty fucking relieved."

"And what if I told you I wasn't…opposed, to the idea of possibly…maybe…"

"Yeah?" Kenny grinned wider, bringing his face closer to mine.

I sighed, not willing to voice my own sudden desire. "Just fucking kiss me again."

And with that he obliged, his hands grabbing my hips with no protest and pressing his lips to mine. My arms snaked around his neck and pulled him in closer to deepen the kiss. His lips were so soft and warm, I couldn't really think about what was really happening anymore; it felt like a dream to be kissing Kenny up stairs at one of Token's parties.

And just as it felt that the moment wouldn't be tarnished, there was a knock at the door and Kenny groaned. He pulled awhile, but still held me, and brought us to the door and casually unlocked it.

Through the crack, Kenny stared back into the eyes of Craig Tucker. Both were silent, until Kenny rolled his eyes before reach into his pocket and pulling out a twenty-dollar bill. Craig snatched the bill and flipped him off before Kenny shut the door and relocking it.

I stared. "Kenny, what the fuck?"

He shrugged, "Long story." Before pulling me back in for a kiss.

I'm just surrounded by assholes.

"Takes one to know one."

Sigh. And Kenny.