((A/N:So we made a K2 drabble fic. It was only a matter of time really. This first ones by Burbs.

Disclaimer: Ownership goes to those creepy dudes that talk at the beginning of episodes on the dvds... I'm sure Scratch owns a bit too. Just not me.))

Denial

"The effects of the Industrial Revolution included the growth…."

I tried desperately not to look at him. It was a difficult urge to resist as he was seated right next to me. I didn't want to acknowledge it, to acknowledge this aching in my chest, to acknowledge those butterflies in my stomach, to acknowledge the crimson shade of my cheeks.

I would not let Kenny win.

"…Poor working conditions existed for factory workers: factories were dirty and dangerous…"

Not that Kenny would even know that he'd be winning anything, I would never ever tell him even if I did lose it to him. I think I would die from embarrassment first.

"…families lived in crowded "tenements", or apartments, which were unsanitary and often burned down in fires. Urbanization — or the development and movement of people to cities — increased so rapidly…"

Besides, it's not like Kenny would even return it. He'd win, no, steal it over and throw it away without even knowing he had it. He'd trample all over it and walk away. No way was I letting that happen.

So just I just won't look at him. I won't become conscious of 'it', I'll ignore it. It'd not happen at all, I'm not losing to Kenny, I'm not getting caught in those blue eyes, I'm not obsessed with how soft his blonde hair looks, I'm not yearning for him to lose the hoodie just so I can ogle his beau—

"Kyle!"

"Huh?" I snapped out of my stupor and looked to my right in surprise.

'Fuck.' And there I was, looking at Kenny motherfucking McCormick. Blue eyes dancing with amusement because of my inattention, a small grin plastered on his face as he tired to stop from laughing, and six fucking inches away from my face.

"I said, 'Kyle, let's pair up for the group work.'" He laughed softly at me.

"What group work?" I could only blink dumbly.

"Um, you know the one he assigned to us two minutes ago." Goddamnit, why was he so fucking… dazzling?

…crap.

"Um, yeah… about what?"

He proceeded to look at me like I'd grown a second hand, biting the inside of mouth and looked at me with a slight frown, lips pressed into a thin line, "Who are you and what have you done with Kyle? There's no way the Kyle I know would not pay attention during class." His frown broke into a grin and— Oh god, why can't I stop looking at his lips?

"Um…" God, why the fuck can't I talk properly, "I was…" And for the love of Moses, how do you even respond to something like that? "…kinda spacing out for a minute." was my lame finish.

He smiled, patted my hat affectionately and with a chuckle, "Ahhh, at last I'm the straight-laced student while Mr. Smartypants here is a flake. Dreams do come true." He sighed dramatically as he wiped away a pretend tear from his intoxicating features.

Did I just think that?

I raised my eyebrows masking my inner turmoil, gave him a small shake of the head and we got to work. We finished the assignment in good time, chatted a bit before the bell rang, and separated in the hall.

I stood there motionless after he turned the corner.

"God fucking damnit…"

I had lost my heart to Kenny McCormick.

((Ending Notes: Whoo-hoo! Likey? Hate? Flame thrower? Gouging out eyes? Cooing with appreciation? I need feedback peeps

-a very needy Muse))