On a crisp November night, the large silver orb of the New Moon hanged lowly in the darkened sky above as only a few clusters of stars littered among it. A couple hazy string clouds of grey slowly brushed by from the light breeze around Stark's pond... Sat like bumps on a log, were Stan Marsh and Kenny McCormick.
Stan had gotten into one of the worst fights with his parents this evening, it was a more occurring thing the older he became – he was fifteen years old, he wanted to grow up and be an adult, he was ready... But his parents continued to restrain him, keep him on a curfew, no overnight stay overs on school nights – all reasonable demands from a parent but not in his mind, in his mind... His parents were like public enemy number one.
Sighing; Stan watched the still water in front of them as the Moon reflected on it, his black hair had grown a little longer and has started shagging in his eyes. "I just wish my parents were more like yours Kenny, yours let you do anything you want."
Although years had come and gone, Kenny still dawned his orange parka, hood up pulled tightly together... Mainly because his parents couldn't afford anything new for him and he was always just a little bit to cold. His words were muffled as his glanced at Stan.
"Can't you just... Take your hood down for once, please Kenny, Jesus." Stan commented, his hand leaving its resting place on his knee which had been supporting his head in his somber state.
Kenny stared at him, his green-blue mixture colour of eyes focused upon Stans brown ones. Stan felt frozen for a minute, unsure of if he could continue the stare or look away... "Please..." Stan whispered, his fingers slowly reached out and Kenny lent back unsure if Stan was going to hit him or not, as a natural reaction from it all his life.
"Dude..." Stan whispered in barely a whisper, stopping his advance as Kenny lent back. "Mmhp." Kenny muffled an honest apology, he knew Stan would never intentionally cause him any harm, Stan had always been there for Kenny.
Fingers of Stan's carefully took the draw strings of Kennys parka and he pulled them away from each other, bringing the simply bowed knot to give and become undone. Stan let them go and they fell to rest on Kennys chest.
His heart beat quickened; Kenny never let people get close to him, "Relax. I know you aren't that ugly." Stan joked to break the tenseness in the moment. Stan pushed Kenny's orange hood down, freeing his head from its polyester clutches.
The messy golden hair of Kenny seemed to shimmer under the moons light, he felt naked uncovered. "Wow." Stan whispered, not entirely remembering what Kenny looked like, without his hood. "What?" Kenny panicked, his eyes getting larger as his hands reached back to pull his hood back up, but Stan caught his hands.
"Don't." He whispered, holding Kennys hands, looking into his eyes, he slowly closed his and lent in slowly... He brought his lips to brush tenderly against Kennys in the moment. Kennys already large eyes, nearly popped from his head, feeling Stans lips to his. When Stan felt nothing in return from Kenny, he pulled back and let him go.
"Sorry. I'm sorry." Stan panicked, he'd ruined everything, he got up quickly and turned to leave as quickly as possible in the darkness. "Stan!" Kenny exclaimed, catching him, leaning over on the log, grabbing his hand to stop him going anywhere.
"I wasn't... I wasn't ready." Kenny admitted, standing up with him. "Oh." Stan glanced down before up. "Are you... Now?" He wondered, hopefully. "... Yeah." Kenny admitted with a half smile on nerves.
Stan took in and let out a breath slowly. Taking Kenny's hands into his own once more, their fingers lacing together in a perfect interlock. Stan lent down just a little as he was taller, he brought his lips back to Kenny's rough-warm ones.
This time, Kenny didn't panic, this time, he smiled into the kiss from Stan and lent in slowly himself, kissing him back. Stan let one of Kenny's hands go and brushed it up his chest and into his soft hair, pulling him closer, the inch between their bodies closing. Stan couldn't help himself, his tongue strong and skilled glide carefully against Kenny's lower lip; asking for permission to enter his mouth, Kenny parted his lips, allowing him in...
Stans tongue worked his way into his mouth, the sensation felt unlike anything Kenny had felt before, it was strange, mysterious... He liked it, in drew him closer to Stan – whose tongue was twisting around his own as their breaths lingered close to each other; Kenny tilted his head.
Together they stood pressed against each other in the coolness of the night, hand in hand, sharing the heat of the moment together...
...
Yes? No? ... I wrote this on a whim at work while I was bored on my break. Hah.