Hi South park, and Bunny lovers! :) This is my first fic from my new account, but I'm not a new author to Fanfiction. Basically, this is just a clean slate, for me to start all over, and it works for me.
So, even though I really like Bunny, I wasn't expecting it to be my first choice to write about, but hey, if you guys like it, I was thinking of writing a prequel, because to me, I feel like there should be more explanation before this. You guys, if you do want a sequel, can decide where from.
I am aware that there is some OCness in this story that may, or may not be obvious to some. But this is my first south park fic, and I'm still learning to adapt my writing style to their personalities. Feel free to critique me, though, as long as it's constructive!
Disclaimer: Um...Lord Matt and Trey own South Park. Unfortunately, I'm not amazing enough to. -_-
With all the icky stuff out of the way, feel free to continue! Hope I didn't bore you too much!
Butters paused from his listless stroll, to witness the first fall of the leaves of autumn. He stared at the crisp, orange leaf, stark and warm-looking against the barren, all seasonal snow, and gave a melancholy sigh, that reached only his ears. He couldn't fathom why he'd chosen here, of all places to come. This was their place, and it made him feel like he was desecrating some kind of unspoken rule by being there alone.
In their local park, there was a small opening through the trees, that for whatever reason, few people decided to venture. Maybe it was because they didn't appreciate the beauty of it in their mild summer, or the enigmatic comfort it could provide in their extensive winters. The path stretched on forever, it seemed. And most who did venture, grew bored of the straight, un-wavering path, surrounded by elderly, un-damaged trees, and turned back before reaching the furthest point. But not them. And how rewarding it was to them when they found the little white clearing, with possibly the largest tree in south park, it's colossal, brown roots offering quite a comfortable place to sit, and the slight dip in the base of it to wedge you, and possibly another into as you listened to the bizarrely musical wind that came with the landscape.
Carefully, he fingered the thin stem of the leaf, and lifted it off of the ground, twisting it from side to side, to study each intricate vein that stemmed off from the base. Again, he brushed his fingers off of the leaf, and flinched, as he heard a familiar crinkle, the leaf all but disintegrating as he drew his fist around it and crumpled it against his palm. He lifted his hands to the sky, hoping that another would fall, and grace him with its presence, and so one did, falling lightly in the palm that had not long ago cradled the other one. He pocketed this one immediately, but tensed, as he heard it also break, and crumble within his pocket.
Deciding to ignore this, he continued along the path, regardless of his worries of violating the rule, his baby blue Wellingtons disappearing in the Coarse snow as he plodded along aimlessly. Really, he hadn't meant to show up, but his parents were yelling at each other again, and even his music couldn't drown it out. And as much as he loved cuddling his Hello Kitty Plushy, it wasn't who he wanted it to be, and it couldn't distract him enough to make him be able to stand the sound.
He was almost there, now. He could feel the wind, travelling in abnormal patterns, like it had been refracted in mid air, by-passing his face. He pulled his hood up around his face, a habit he had adopted from him, the fur licking at his face as he quickened his pace. His aquamarine eyes were stinging from his struggle, the walk seeming much harsher than it used to, while he ploughed on forward. The wind ceased it's bending, travelling in its usual pattern, and rearing him off to the left. It was strong enough to release dozens of leaves at once, all staining the still setting and giving it an aftertaste of productiveness that Butters wasn't sure he agreed with; it went against what their clearing was about. He brought up a gloved hand to brush the dampness from the snowflakes away, and peal a few loose bangs off of his forehead, a determined huff exiting his mouth. He'd been reluctant to enter before, but now he was going to, even if it was so much harder than it would have been if he wasn't alone.
It brought tears to his eyes, to realise for the first time why nobody continued on to their clearing. In reality, it was always like this, but he'd never noticed; happiness, and only half aware of his surroundings, he'd followed Kenny almost blindly into the harsh environment. But he hadn't cared, because Kenny had been there. Kenny was strong, and had such a grounding aura, that he couldn't help but gravitate to the whimsical boy. He would follow that boy anywhere, and not once complain, because, in the end, just as long as he was there, that little blank canvas inside his heart was filled, like the leaves on the snow, and he would feel safe. Safer than he ever could in his own home, with his poignant mother, and time-bomb of a father.
And then he was in the eye of the storm, and everything stilled, again. The strange, bending wind skirted past him again, with a gentle whistling, and the untouched snow glinted lightly, the sun just peaking out and giving the clouds a silver lining as it warmed his face. He'd made it now, and the fatigue of realising that what he'd been scared of all along had come true, was tiring. Trekking the last, few mild steps to their tree, he lowered himself to his knees, and crawled into the small hole, where the massive roots parted under the tree and the snow didn't reach, and leaned back, his eyes slightly heavy.
It had been months, since he'd been happy. Not that anyone but him would notice that, because they didn't understand him. That's why they'd never liked him as a child, because they'd never gotten to know him. They hadn't recognized that he was actually a very intelligent, and loving person, and that he chose to do things for people, because he believed in their happiness. Of course, when they'd asked him to fill 'the void', he knew he wasn't adequate. Nobody in their world was capable of replacing Kenny. Nobody. Now, they let him be in their company, because of pity for his loss, and out of loyalty. They wouldn't leave him alone, knowing that Kenny wouldn't wish them to.
A small smile graced his lips. Even not there, he'd managed to leave an impact on everyone around him. Butters was trying so hard to ignore everybody else's attitude. How stupid of them to even suggest it, he often uttered mentally; his personal mantra to get him through a day. Today was the ninetieth day he hadn't seen those infinite sapphire eyes, or felt that golden blonde against his face, or even the loud, boisterous laugh that made him swell with warmth inside. But, unlike everybody else, Like Kyle, Stan, and Cartman, who had been through it all before, and had been mentally preparing themselves to deal with it again, he wouldn't stand for the mere suggestion that he wouldn't return. Two days before, another of his friends, Tweek, and his tall, stoic, but partially concerned boyfriend, had warned him that maybe he should just accept the fact that he wasn't coming home. But they hadn't been there, and heard him promise that he'd return, so what would they know?
Did it bother him, being left behind? Of course it did. It'd been a long time since it had happened for so long; happened at all, even, and everybody had held their breaths, waiting for it to happen again, for an equally lengthy period. But there'd been nothing, and so everybody had continued on, as though nothing had happened, much how they would with his regular routine of being deceased. And then, even though he wasn't supposed to have, he'd heard Kyle's theory, about how, maybe, because it hadn't happened in so long, maybe the next, would truly be his last. Stan, seeing Butters perched just by the bin around the corner, tears in his eyes, had scoffed, writing off the theory as being paranoia from watching a horror film, and that nothing would change any time soon.
Winding his arms around himself, and burying his head into his knees, he sighed. It was so much colder than he remembered. He could almost feel the ghost of a warm arm around his shoulders, a gentle head resting against his own, but he knew that would be mad. Maybe it was hypothermia. Maybe Kyle was right. He just didn't know anymore.
Sick of the loneliness, he turned, and let himself fall victim to the blackness under his lids, that gave him peace for just a few moments, in which he didn't have to look at the pallid world in which Kenny didn't exist anymore.
He could sense it was much later than before, though he'd left quite early in the morning to begin with. He hadn't bothered to bring a phone, or a watch, to check with. He and time were enemies now, and he just didn't care anymore. He was amazed at how much warmth he'd managed to generate as he slept, and marvelled at the softness of the root he was leaning against, his eyes now closed again. He must have still been tired, and hallucinating, imagining for a moment that the tree gave a light chuckle, rocking him slightly from his place against it. So ignoring it, he snuggled his head deeper inwards, determined to get back to sleep. At least, until-
"I just got back, and that's the welcome I get? Thanks, Butterscotch."
His eyes shot open, and grew to the size of saucers when his face met the sight of his beloved orange colour. The scent not of earth, but reminding him of soot, laced with blossom, wafted up his nose, and he pulled back, to find the face of the most important person looking down at him. His skin was glowing and healthy, his lips curled into an affectionate smile, and his chaotic golden bags falling into his face in uneven, but nonetheless beautiful locks. Just how he remembered.
He blinked once. Twice. Even a third time, and he was still there. He rose an eyebrow, his grin becoming impish, while the tears welled up in Butter's eyes, quietly spilling over as he made little whining noises of protest against them as they grew into full blown sobs. Gently, Kenny brought the smaller boy closer into his arms, pulling his enormous hood down so he could bury his face in his fine, silky tresses, and run his fingers through it the way he knew calmed him down. Unable to make a coherent sentence through his blubbering, Butters managed to utter the one word that mattered to him, 'Kenny,' over and over again. He said it more than Timmy said his own name. He said it like a language, and he said it like it was his life support. And it was all those things. All those things and more.
Eventually, with the gentle rubbing on his arm, and the other hand still running through his hair, he managed to stop crying, and squeeze him around the waist with all the strength he had left. Kenny simply laughed, having felt much more pain then he was receiving in a similar way, but from a boa constrictor, and at a much younger age, on one of his many death-capades. For most, 'what doesn't kill you, makes you stronger.' For him, what killed him, did.
"K-Kenny, y-you're home! I knew you'd come back, and I was, waitin', but then Tweek and Craig, and everyone else was sayin', maybe you wouldn't come home, and then-"
"Shh." He cooed, resting his forehead against his. "All you need to know, is that I'm back now, okay?" Hs said.
"Kay." He whispered, as Kenny lowered his hand and began to fish in his pockets. What he could want after just coming from hell, he didn't know. He knew this time he'd been to hell, because he was familiar with the smell. Hell smelt like soot, and at the worst of times, depending on how 'bad' Kenny had been before he last died, burning flesh. Heaven, the fragrance he got more, was harder to describe….to him, it just smelt the way Kenny always did. Maybe that was proof that he was a fallen angel. And for whatever reason, he had been delivered to him.
"You were gone….You were gone for three months…" He mumbled quietly, bumping his knuckles together thoughtlessly. He'd gone near the end of their short-lived summer, and only just returned.
Kenny froze, staring at Butters' weary face. "Shit." He murmured, lowering his head and bringing a hand down to encompass Butters' fists. He felt terrible. He knew the petite boy didn't sleep well without him there. He snuck in through the window every night. They both knew from past experience that his parents didn't…approve, of their son's sexuality. Even his hypocritical father. "I'm so sorry, Butterscotch."
Butters lowered his head, hiding his eyes, as he gave a small smile. "It's okay. You came back, like you said you would."
Kenny's hands tensed around his. "Did…they treat you kindly?" He asked carefully. Butters knew Kenny loved his friends very dearly, but he also knew that wouldn't stop him from lashing out at them if they made him feel uncomfortable.
He nodded feverishly, not wanting to get them into trouble. "Yeah! In fact, not just them, Tweek, and Clyde, and Craig, and everyone!" He tried to sound chipper, but all he could remember was refusing their company and sitting in dark corners and tables as much as he could get away with alone. He used to be such a social child…
Kenny wasn't fooled, however. "Please, don't push yourself away from everyone because I'm not there…." He ran a gentle hand across Butter's rosy cheeks, sweeping a bang out of his face so he could see his eyes properly. They glistened with guilt, and Kenny's own guilt for being the cause of the tears constricted around his heart, making him wonder if it was possible to die from an emotion.
"I'm sorry, I don't mean to, I just…" He wiped at his eyes angrily with the back of his sleeve, frustrated that he couldn't speak to Kenny without blubbering too much to be incoherent. "I missed you." Kenny's hard face softened, and the hand inside his pocket froze again, his face brightening rapidly.
"Hey Butterscotch, I have a surprise for you!" He beamed, instantly lightening the atmosphere. Butters gave a small smile at his eagerness. Suddenly, he looked like a child who wanted to show their parent an accomplishment.
"What is it…?" He asked, curiosity causing him to lean forward and incline his head towards Kenny's hidden hand, and the mysterious pocket which contained whatever it was. Kenny chuckled, pushing him backwards slightly and commanding that he close his eyes.
Complying, he tightened them, going against the urge to fight through the blindness. He could hear a light shuffling sound, and raised a delicate eyebrow. "This aint gonna be anything p-perverted, is it?"
Kenny scoffed, shuffling forward. "Thanks for having so much faith in me. Now, hold your hands out."
Again, he did as told, though he pulled his gloves off, wishing to feel whatever it was that he was going to put in his hand. The bitter air nibbled at his fingers, stealing the warmth he'd preserved and carrying it away in is harmonious grasp. And then, something smooth, fairly large, and cool slipped into his fingers. Immediately, his hands constricted around it; it wasn't oval, or round, but it had a blunt point at the bottom. The top had a deep dip, and curved outwards- a heart shape. It felt like a stone.
"Can I open my eyes yet…?" He asked, desperate to see what his gift looked like. He heard a quiet noise of approval, and proceeded to open them.
Opening his irises, he peered down and gasped. The object was indeed heart shaped. It was a clear heart, and inside, the most exotic flower he's ever seen, the petals intricate and plentiful, little black spirals and patterns collapsing onto each other and brandishing a sequence of colours he'd never seen, but still extremely graceful looking, like what was expected of any flower. It looked raw, and powerful within the little heart, and Butters couldn't help but wonder how on earth much this was worth, or how the hell Kenny had obtained it.
And then, seeing his look of awe, he began to explain. "This, is the 'Flos de Orcus,' the 'Flower of Hell' in English. This little thing only blooms once every two millions years or so, at the very bottom of hell. That's why I had to go so early. I knew you'd be worried if I told you I was going to kill myself, so I didn't. But I also knew you'd want to talk to me before I did die, so I went and jumped in front of a car, knowing I wouldn't die straight away. When I got into hell I went and asked Satan to pull a few strings, and he preserved it in resin for me. To give to you as a gift, as a thank you, for...Y'know…Staying with me, through my dying all the time, because…Besides my family, you're the only one who's really always cared about me dying…" He confided.
Butters looked at him in absolute adoration. How he'd managed to find such a dedicated person was beyond him. Kenny had always been selfless, for as long as he'd known him, but…
He looked down at the little flower in resin again. How could anything Butters could give him ever compare to that? "Kenny…I can't… ever, repay you for this…" He whispered, his voice hoarse from the sheer amazement.
Again, Kenny smiled, his eyes gentle. "You pay me every second I exist. Just knowing that you love me is worth a trillion flowers of hell. I don't ever need anything from you. You've given me the greatest gift already: You."
With that last comment, any lingering loneliness left him, and he felt so much love he almost buckled underneath it. Then he realised- he hadn't kissed Kenny in three months.
Throwing himself forward, he attacked Kenny's lips with a vigour he never had before, earning an almost automatic response as Kenny took over, allowing him to settle back from taking the lead and slip into a state of pure bliss, when Kenny pushed his tongue into his mouth and coaxed his own out to play, both desperate to get as close to each other as possible. He ran a hand through Butters' hair again, enjoying the pleased, purring sound he received as he pulled away for breath, for a moment.
Finally, their kisses became less ravenous, and gentler, as they found their way back to the tree, Butters on Kenny's lap, and both wedged into that little spot. He sighed, planting his forehead in-between Kenny's shoulder and the crook of his neck, as he continued to kiss down his jaw line, Butters able to feel him smiling into the kisses.
"I love you, Kenny." He whispered, pulling his hood up to hide his blush. Even after so long, it embarrassed him to say so.
Kenny picked up the little resin heart, and threaded something through the little loop Butters hadn't noticed a moment ago. Upon further inspection, he noticed it was a small chain, of dozens of tiny Hello Kitties, little skull and crossbones where her flower or bow would famously go, but cute nonetheless. Butters remembered him telling him that there were some good forgers in hell, and not the identity theft kind. He watched Kenny opened the clasp, and put it around his neck, his fingers lingering on the soft skin. "More than all the rare flowers that'll ever exist, Butterscotch."
With a smile, he settled against his shoulder, the anxiety and embarrassment fading. Of course there was no reason to be shy about it. Kenny loved that Butters loved him. It was proof.
He stood suddenly, having taken Butters from his lap, and inclined his hand towards him. "C'mon. Your clothes are damp. Let's go find you a new pair, and then I'll spend the night." He said.
Grabbing his hand, Butters pulled himself up, and sealed the deal with a kiss, feeling happier than he had in a long, long time.
They headed out of the clearing, hand in hand, and Butters found himself bracing for the impact of the storm. But nothing came. The musical wind continued on, in the gentle, aimless patterns. Nothing hurt when Kenny was there. Kenny was like the resin that protected, and preserved his flower. And now, that seldom blossoming flower would exist for eternity, as a memoir that they existed, and that they loved each other, long after they were gone.
Might have over-killed you all with the fluff, I dunno…. ._.
Oh yeah, and….I realised, halfway through writing this that…I think there is an episode where they show flowers in hell, but…for the sake of Bunny, let's say there aren't!
Were they in character…?
It would be useful if you'd send me your thoughts! ^^;