You, A Feeling I Can't Deny
Chapter One - I felt real good about myself, that's until the day you showed me you needed anybody else
A/N: Wow, I haven't written any fanfics in a long time. I was going through depravation and I needed to fix it so I wrote this o_o I dunno how good it is, seeing as it's like, two in the morning right now... But I wanted to finish the first part at least. This fic contains major amounts of STyle but will ultimately be K2. And is obviously told in Kenny's POV. I dunno how long the STyle will last, or when the K2 will actually start, or when Kyle will have more than like, 3 lines of dialogue in a chapter... But hopefully soon. Reviews are muchly appreciated =)
I don't own South Park, and I definitely don't own Harry Potter.
The chilly autumn breeze ruffled my blonde hair slightly as I stepped out the front door. Ah, fall. I loved this time of year. It was almost cold enough to start snowing again, but not quite. Though I have to say, the air was biting a bit through my wizard cloak as I made my way out to the street, clutching a curly brunette wig in one hand and a broomstick in the other.
For fall being my favorite time of year, Halloween was probably my favorite day of the year. The anonymity of it all was very appealing to me – I had never been one keen on letting people know who I was, even as a kid. Plus, who could turn down free candy?
I didn't bother ringing the doorbell as I finally arrived at Stan's house. A feeling of peace had somewhat settled in me on the walk over, but that feeling was very quickly shattered the second I opened the door to Stan's bedroom. Stan was pressing Kyle's wildly curly red hair with Shelly's "borrowed" flatiron, yelling at Kyle to hold still unless he wanted to get burned. Kyle was busy loudly complaining that straightening his hair was completely unnecessary, and how just because he had red hair didn't mean he automatically should be Ron.
"This a bad time?" I asked, surprised that they managed to hear me over their arguing. A small grin spread on my lips.
"Hey, Kenny. Where's your wig?" Stan asked, hardly glancing at me. I held it up. "Once I finish with Kyle's hair we should be just about ready."
"I wanted to be Harry," Kyle grumbled.
"Too bad," Stan replied. "Now hold still."
"Hey, at least you didn't get stuck being a chick," I told him, rolling my eyes as I finally decided to put the wig on. Apparently I was the only one comfortable enough with my femininity that I was willing to dress as Hermione.
"Done," Stan said, flicking off and unplugging the flatiron. Kyle got up to examine himself in the mirror. Straight, his hair was much longer than usual, nearly grazing his shoulders, and hanging in his face in a way that it constantly needed to be pushed aside.
"I look so stupid," he muttered.
"You look hot," Stan countered, "And very Weasley-ish. I like it."
I groaned. "Can we get going, please? We're gonna miss the whole party." Stan sighed and nodded, grabbing his fake glasses off his nightstand, leading the way out the door.
By the time we finally got to Craig's annual Halloween party, it was already in full blast. There was obviously alcohol around somewhere, because mostly everyone seemed more than a little tipsy.
I poked Kyle in the shoulder. "Hey, you brought your camera, right?"
"Yeah, of course." He pulled it out of a hidden pocket in his costume, handing it to me.
"I want to get a picture of the three of us before we inevitably split up," I replied, pressing buttons until I eventually got the digital camera to turn on. Kyle's camera was pretty nice, and definitely not something I could ever afford. "Stan! Get over here."
We all piled together, trying to fit in the tiny frame as I held the camera in my outstretched arm.
"Say cheese," Kyle said, his breath warm and tickling in my ear. I pushed the shutter down and was rewarded with a satisfying flash.
"Oops, I accidentally cut off part of Stan's head," I muttered, examining the picture on the lit-up screen.
"It's fine," Kyle promised, smiling. He looked up to see Stan wandering off again. I rolled my eyes.
"Go ahead," I allowed with a grin. He shrugged sheepishly and trailed after Stan. I made my way through the rest of the crowd, hopefully to score some alcohol.
"Kenneh!" called an all-too-familiar voice. "Kenneh wait up!"
I groaned, turning around to see Cartman ambling towards me, dressed as I knew he would be in a Hitler outfit he had worn for Halloween the past who knows how many years in a row. "How did you know it was me from the back, anyways?" I wanted to know, scratching my head. Man, this wig was itchy.
He snorted. "I'd recognize that po' boy ass anywhere."
My eyebrows shot up. "So you were checking out my ass?"
"What? No, you know that's not what I meant. I'm no fag," he insisted, his brown eyes widening slightly.
"Sure, Cartman. Whatever you say." I rolled my eyes and turned to walk away.
"Yeah, that's right, Kenneh! You walk away! You fucking walk!" he yelled after me. I ignored him, chuckling softly to myself as I went.
I discovered the booze soon enough, in the form of a suspicious-looking bowl of punch spiked so that it was pretty much vodka with pink food coloring in it. Needless to say, the party grew much more entertaining after that.
As soon as I realized I never gave Kyle his camera back, I decided to use this to my advantage. I went around taking pictures of everyone and everything, whether it be a shot of me making a pass at Powder or a pseudo-artistic photo of a can someone had left lying around. I mostly just wandered, using this chance as an opportunity to undergo some of my favorite pastimes – hitting on girls and getting progressively more drunk.
I was still talking to Powder when I caught something out of the corner of my eye. "I'll be right back, sweetie," I promised, before heading off to investigate.
I had to keep from crying out when my suspicions were confirmed. Off in the corner, oblivious to everything else going on around them, Kyle and Stan were off on their own with their lips glued together. But instead of making noise, I lifted the camera once again and snapped a picture. Once the flash went off they sprang apart like nobody's business.
"Wow, that is hot," I said, grinning as I examined the photo now lighting up the screen. "Harry and Ron lovin'."
"Kenny, give me the camera," Kyle growled, glaring daggers at me.
I gasped, sounding as distraught as I could manage without laughing. "But, Ronald," I exclaimed, putting on my best fake British accent. "I thought you were with me! And Harry – whatever will you do about Ginny?"
"Kenny, give me the fucking camera!" Kyle roared. Stan appeared to be trying his best to blend in with the wall behind him. Obviously it wasn't working well.
"No way, dude," I laughed. "This shit's going on the internet. No way I'm letting you delete it." Still laughing, I ducked back into the crowd, making a mad dash for my life as Kyle's angry words followed me.
Really, it was a miracle someone hadn't seen them sooner. There were people everywhere. Though mostly everyone was drunk and therefore not paying the closest attention to who was making out in what corner.
As for Stan and Kyle, I always kind of suspected, but this is the first time there's ever actually been any proof… I mean, everyone talks about how obvious it is that they're together, but still. As far as I've seen they've been nothing but the best of friends.
The rest of the party was pretty much a blur after that. I think a lot of people were leaving by the time I finally curled up in a corner somewhere and died. Just for the record, I mean that literally.
I woke up groaning as my vision was infiltrated by a terribly obnoxious light. It took me a while to get my eyes open far enough to realize that the light was, in fact, the sun, shining through a crack in my curtains to fall right on my eyes. I soon discovered I was lying on my bed, still in my costume, the wizard cloak open over the schoolboy outfit I had worn underneath, with no recollection of how I had gotten there or pretty much anything that happened the previous night. Sitting up and scratching my head, which was pounding like hell, I noticed a lump in one of my pockets. I reached in, pulling out Kyle's camera, which I had apparently never given back to him.
Turning it on, I started scanning through the pictures. They were mostly crappy and didn't help me remember much of what had happened. There were numerous shots of people's feet, and random trash lying around. I don't know what was up with that. There were also a few shots of Powder, with her long wavy red hair and her costume of I don't even know what, something with wings, but it was really sexy either way. I grinned to myself as I recalled hitting on her all night and, finally towards the end of the party, when we made out for a while. That was nice.
I kept scrolling through the pictures, memories flooding back to me. Powder, Powder, more feet, Stan and Kyle kissing, more Powder – wait a minute. I pressed the back button, staring at the picture on the screen.
How could I have forgotten about something like that? Wow. But looking at the photo of Stan and Kyle lip-locked, I remembered. It was kind of weird that they were actually dating – that is, if they were dating, and that wasn't just drunken making out. Good for them, I guess.
There was a tiny pang deep inside me somewhere, seeing them like that. Almost like – like sadness, like… jealousy? Why would I be jealous? I got to make out with my own sexy redhead last night.
…Did I seriously just think of Kyle as sexy?
Okay, this was not going to work. I don't like guys. Not like that. It's – it's fine for Stan, and for Kyle, if they do, but not for me. I'm Kenny fucking McCormick. Sighing, I shut off the camera and lay back down on my bed.
Screw this, I'm going back to sleep.