Disclaimer: I don't own South Park....
When most people find themselves staring into the mighty grill of an eighteen-wheeler they reflect upon their lives. Vivid memories of their family, friends, and gaming systems flutter through their minds. They feel a great, great sadness upon leaving earth.
But we aren't talking about most people. We are talking about Kenneth McCormick, who, in his darkest hour, feels only boredom. To the teen death is a part of life, a really annoying part, but no big deal. He was actually looking forward to hell; Satan and Hitler were singing all the songs from Rent this evening.
Unfortunately someone was not ready for his routine passing on.
"NOOOOOOO!" Butters shrieked. He had been on the other side of the road when Kenny had tried to cross and he flung himself at the other. Successfully "rescuing" him from the massive Snacky Smores truck. They landed in the dirty snow, Butters on top of Kenny and panting triumphantly.
"A-are," he finally stuttered, "you o-okay Ken?"
Kenny gazed up at the blonde with a look that bordered on extremely amused and very confused.
"Uh…I'm good…you?"
"I'm fine."
Silence. Kenny noticed how warm Butters felt, how he smelled faintly of soap and how soft his hair looked. His eyes were sky-colored and his lips-
"So, that quiz in Mr. Garrisons class, impossible right? Butters spoke without moving the slightest. His breath caused a few stray bangs on the parka-clad boy's forehead to move.
"Yeah."
Silence. Butters realized that through he could feel Kenny's muscular chest through his ratty orange hoodie and that he had the urge to put his head down and listen to his heartbeat.
"Bebe was out this whole week," Kenny murmured, "I hear she got a STD."
"Terrible."
A car passed by and the children in the backseat gawked.
"Butters, I…I think I'm safe know."
"W-well," Butters blushed a deep crimson, "you never know."
Kenny hugged him tight and put his face in his hair.
"True."