Kenny knew before anyone else. Before they even knew themselves. And if anyone bothered to look past those drug-hazed, horny eyes and bothered to ask this boy who had seen the entire world from the clouds of heaven what he thought - they could have learnt so much.
He knew from the very beginning. He understood what was meant by that first Fatass remark. What was meant by the following racial slurs. He saw what was meant by Cartman's overpowering need to break Kyle.
The fat boy just wanted to break down the hard walls that enveloped and see into the redheads soul. He understood that somehow that twisted, fucked up mind of his thought it wasn't alright to love him. To stand next to him everyday with his skin crawling and his tummy bubbling, wanting to reach out…
It must be torture.
Above all he saw that those two really couldn't go a day without being together; at least long enough to sprout a hateful comment, if nothing else but to have each others voices ringing in their heads.
Stan was the second of the outsiders to know. Despite normally being sensitive enough to be insightful, he was incredibly naïve at first. But at some point, things can't be mistaken.
Him and Kyle spent almost all of their time together, so it was naturally quite strange when Kyle didn't seem to be around that much anymore. It had never been unusual for Kyle and Cartman to stand next to each other - it fact it was normal. But there were other physical signs.
Stan saw their fingers lingering a second too long whenever they passed, or that whenever they spoke their bodies twisted round so that full attention was mounted upon the other. But the most obvious really was a recent sleepover.
Stan woke up in the middle of the night to take a piss, and saw the two of them. They were lying on the floor, asleep. Their ankles were touching, and Kyle's head was on Cartman's chest; giving the impression he had fallen asleep on the fat boys shoulder. Stan didn't say anything - why would he?
But goddamn.
Kyle and Cartman found out that they loved each other at the same moment. The two were fighting and their friends had left out of annoyance. Kyle hit Cartman on the mouth. In retaliation, Cartman punched Kyle's stomach. Kyle pulled Cartman down with him as he fell backwards.
When they kissed, neither could tell whose blood they were tasting. Those repressed years of such perfect obsession paid off. Their knew the others body better than their own. Scabby knee, soft love handles, bony shoulders, and hard long cock. Discarded clothes carpeted the floor, and the two pushed, grunted and moaned their way to final understanding. Completion.
Completely naked and spent the two of them didn't need to tell the other the conclusion that their minds and heart and finally come to. It was more than love and need anyway. It was the hungry animistic passion and mental agony that fought never to be ignored.
They held onto sweaty skin and looked into each others glistening eyes, and it was their own way of saying what didn't need to be vocalised.