Prom night. And from where Kenny sat, he could see all.
More importantly, none saw him.
The dance floor was filled with couples, swaying out of time in the deep-red hue of the cheap strobe lights the school had hired. Stan had his hands on Wendy's waist, and Kenny could tell by the way she was looking up at his absent face that she wished he'd try slide them down further. As it was, Stan was far too busy looking over the shoulder of his girlfriend and at the back of his best friend's head. Kyle and Bebe weren't moving, just standing and making out right there one the dancefloor as though they thought everybody wanted to see them sucking face. Totally considerate, Kenny thought sourly, especially considering he had a hunch that Kyle knew exactly how Stan felt. Perhaps it was a revenge thing. Like, take-this-for-having-a-girlfriend-when-you're-in-love-with-me-now-I'm-kissing-Bebe-so-there, that kind of thing. Anyway, it was none of Kenny's business really, so he let his interest move on.
Token and Clyde were making obscene faces and gestures at each other over the shoulders of their dates. Nothing new there, just beefhead best friends thinking of getting some purely for the bragging rights it would bring.
Moving on.
Craig sat at a table on his own, lounging on a chair that looked as though it could give way at any second, black hair casually brushing his eyelashes as though he was born to be uninterestedly cool. Kenny noted the absence of a tie, and wondered whether the boy was really wearing a button-up shirt that matched the dark blue of his unusually absent hat, or whether that was just the tacky lighting playing tricks on his mind. Either way, Craig had his sleeves casually rolled up like no other kid could, and appeared to be totally oblivious to the fact that Tweek was standing across the hall in the darkest corner he could possibly find, staring at him like he was the only person alive. Craig didn't seem to notice much, really.
Kenny pushed himself to his feet and took a few steps forwards, feeling the buzzy, warped perception that too many drugs and too many strobe lights had awarded him earlier in the evening. He went and hovered on the edge of the dancefloor until a faster song came on, then swept Bebe away from Kyle in the form of a spin and a wink. Kyle didn't seem all that pissed about it, and Kenny watched over a dancing (and probably slightly drunk) Bebe's shoulder as Kyle stood helplessly in the middle of the floor for a few seconds before shrugging, throwing Stan a very pointed look and departing to a chair next to Craig's simply, Kenny assumed, because he didn't want to look as alone as Stan and Wendy made him feel. Craig threw Kyle a look that was half contempt, half sympathy, and then Kenny was being swung by his lady friend in a different direction than the one he was looking and the dancefloor and the hall became a myriad of melting colours as they twirled together through the small crowd of people that made up their high school society. When Wendy came to catch Bebe before she collapsed in a total messed up heap (maybe more drunk than he'd originally thought), Kenny gave her a grin and wandered off again, this time over to the table where Kyle and Craig sat, one obliviously attractive, one looking miffed and confused.
"- and anyway, don't you think her dress is too tight? I mean, honestly, we don't need to see that much..."
"Mhm."
Kenny couldn't help but wrinkle his nose in pure delight at the simple nonchalance of Craig's answer to Kyle's whining. He didn't even know whether the boy was talking about Wendy or Bebe, and obviously it didn't matter because his apparent partner in conversation didn't seem to give a damn anyway. Craig seemed to be content to stare vacantly out into the room, focusing on nobody and nothing, looking effortlessly awesome while doing so... Honestly, Kenny thought, sex on a stick, that one. And Tweek seemed to think so too, judging by the way the twitching blond was inching his way closer and closer to their table between every song that played, his gaze fixed on Craig the whole time. Kenny wondered for the millionth time how Craig couldn't notice such a blind crush, but then again maybe he DID notice, and just didn't care. Heartless bastard. Sexy, lounging, heartless bastard. With really long legs. God.
"...And anyway I don't know why I asked her, it's just tha-"
"Would you shut UP!" And there it was. The facade broke and Craig swung his head around to face Kyle, his brows knotted together in frustration. "Dude, just shut up already, seriously. I didn't come to hear you bitch like a girl all night, did I? Fuck, man." He turned away again, staring back out at the room like nothing had happened and he was enjoying the peace and quiet (minus the bad music of course). Kyle, who had gone a lovely shade of pink (delectable even, Kenny thought), stood up abruptly.
"Fuck you, Craig," he muttered, sauntering off to find somebody else to talk to, apparently not noticing that Kenny was there at all which suited the scruffy blond just fine as it gave him a good excuse to stare at the back of his departing friend, appreciating the slender, lanky form that he could just make out through the impeccably tailored suit his mother had probably had ordered for him from God-knows-where. Kenny kind of wished he'd start dancing with Bebe again, because really, the two made an incredibly enticing pair, Kyle and his awkward charm, Bebe and her unadulterated sex appeal. He watched her dance with Wendy, absent-minded but full of energy so she was. So what if her dress was too tight, Kenny was hardly going to complain at the -
"Gah! Hi guys!"
-view. Which was now being blocked by a twitchy, shaking Tweek Tweak, who despite his generic greeting of 'guys' was staring straight at Craig's profile (which was divine) and clutching fistfuls of his hair in a way that might even be deemed as cute (actually, definitely, definitely cute in a freaky, adorable, puppy-dog kind of way), though Craig didn't seem to realise, giving the blond boy a slight incline of his head (and wait, was that a HALF SMILE on his face?) but not much more. Tweek hovered until Kenny gestured at him to sit, and the boy practically collapsed into the proffered chair.
"I don't know where Red's gone," he chattered to Kenny, his eyes nervously flicking to Craig's face every few seconds before darting back nervously, "But I think she's with Annie. Who did you bring?" He jerked forwards attentively and Kenny laughed, pointing at Butters. They'd split a ticket because a double was cheaper than two singles, but he felt no need to explain this to Tweek, whose eyes widened like saucepans and darted convulsively to look at Craig again (to see if he'd heard, probably). He got no response, and turned (looking somewhat deflated) back to Kenny, who was watching as Butters chivalrously tried to help Bebe stay on her feet. Poor boy had been enlisted by Wendy as babysitter, and he was trying his best, but struggling nonetheless. Kenny scanned the room for Bebe's purple-garbed best friend, and just managed to catch the briefest flick of her long satin dress before the hall door swung closed behind her. Probably on the search for Stan, who'd deserted her the moment Bebe had fallen into her arms and followed Kyle out-of-doors; Kenny wondered whether anything interesting had happened in the time space between then and now, and the temptation to find out was too great to pass up, so he grabbed a packet of smokes out of the jacket of his discarded suit jacket and stood up, throwing a helpless looking Tweek the slightest apology glance before sauntering over to the big double doors that lead out of the gym-turned-prom-hall.
Outside it was cold, but that was nothing new for South Park. Kenny rolled down the sleeves of his (grubby) white shirt, produced a lighter from the pocket of his pants and lit up, dragging in a lungful of delicious poison and perking up his ears. He could hear very faint voices, and a few subtle steps to the left and round the corner of the building had Kenny looking out onto the lit field from a dark corner of privacy. Wendy obviously hadn't chosen to come this way, but that didn't make the expanse of grass empty, and the raised voices being used carried easily to the edge of the building where Kenny stood smoking, hidden by the darkness.
"-what the fuck your problem is dude, but I haven't done anything!" Stan's voice was raised and defensive, and obviously he was sick of making whatever he was trying to make. Kyle's response was quieter and Kenny had to strain his ears to hear, but eventually it came. It was hard not to be startled by the hurt that the Jew's voice was laced with.
"You know exactly what you've done. And it's not just me you're hurting, Stan. But what I've learned lately is that you couldn't care less who you hurt as long as you're in control of the situation, right?" Kenny resisted the urge to shout a smartarsed 'Amen!' into the night, if only because that would probably end up in his ass being kicked for eavesdropping, and it would mean he didn't hear the end of this conversation (which so far, promised to be interesting).
"Goddamnit Kyle, why is it so hard for you to just understand? She's important, you know?She's... and anyway, your mother... and Jesus, imagine Craig..." Stan's resolve was obviously weakening. Kenny could only see their briefest outlines in the faint light, but it was enough to tell that Kyle had taken a step forwards, and Stan's shoulders were slumped. Kenny watched with interest, because he'd known for a while now that something wasn't quite right between these two, and he got the distinct feeling that Wendy could feel it too. Not like Kenny though. Nobody sat and watched like Kenny, or knew these things like Kenny.
The night turned electric when Kyle took another step forwards, and Kenny, without realising, held his breath, but right as he saw his red-headed friend lean forwards to take Stan's chin in his hand and tilt it just upwards because Kyle was just taller, he heard high-heeled footsteps to his left, and cursed silently under his breath because meddling, interfering Wendy was going to cause him to miss the show. He threw his cigarette on the ground just as Stan's silhouette melted into Kyle's, crushing it out with his foot and turning the corner hastily - just in time to collide with young Wendy Testaburger, looking furious and confused.
"Kenny." She rearranged her slightly frazzled hair at the sight of somebody other than who she was expecting, and then stood askance, placing a hand on each hip and looking dangerously annoyed. "Have you seen Stan? Or... Or Kyle? Have you seen them? They aren't inside, I'm sure of it." She glared at him as though already anticipating a lie, expecting him to cover up for whatever covert thing she was obviously convinced (and not unwarrantably) they were doing. Kenny raised his eyebrows and shook his head, shrugging and taking her by the shoulders, turning her around and walking back to the main doors of the hall. His mind, of course, was still on the two boys who were by now probably in a full-swing makeout session in the back field, but he nodded sympathetically at Wendy anyway, because she seemed rather distraught. Not distraught enough for Kenny to admit to her that he's just seen her boyfriend about to get it on with another guy (who happened to be her best friend's date), but distraught enough for him to nod sympathetically, sure.
"...And so I don't know what's going, on but he's just been so distant lately, you know?" She was still going as he pushed their way through the door, and her gave her a quick, reassuring hug before sending her back off in Bebe's direction (because at least that would keep her occupied - the girl was currently trying to engage one of the male teacher chaperones in a dance, hopeless thing). Butters, apparently, had given up. Kenny let his eyes sweep the dancefloor and the rest of the hall briefly in search of him, but the little blond was nowhere to be found and he was hardly about to launch a search and rescue party just to find the kid. He picked his way through the mingling crowd and back to the table that housed his jacket and a still-bored-looking Craig. When Kenny sat down, replacing his smokes in the trusty inside pocket, Craig looked over.
"Tweek's gone to get us drinks." Kenny noticed that there was a chair pulled up right next to Craig's with amusement, and let his eyes wander to the punch table, from which Tweek was returning with two cups, one in each hand, his eyebrows furrowed in an obviously very concentrated effort not to spill them. Unfortunately, when Craig spotted him returning he sat up slighter straighter in his chair. Tweek convulsed. The punch? Everywhere.
Kenny stood to go and give Tweek a hand because the blond was now actively freaking out about the sticky pink liquid all down his front and people were beginning to stare, but Craig stood faster, placing a hand on Kenny's chest and pushing him back into his seat as he strode past. Kenny laughed as Tweek attempted many profuse apologies. He stopped laughing when Craig sent him a death glare and flipped him off before reaching a hand around Tweek's shaking shoulders and leading him off, supposedly to the bathroom to get cleaned up. Kenny made a mental note to check up on that situation in twenty minutes or so, because he figured that was about how long it would take for Craig to actually coax Tweek's shirt off, and from there? Who knew where the spazzy blond and the raven-haired sex bomb might head? Kenny had no idea, but he was sure he wanted to find out. In the meantime, he'd content himself with looking for Butters, whose prolonged absence was making Kenny somewhat unreasonably nervous.
He stood again, feeling like another smoke but not wanting to go outside again lest he raise Wendy's superstitions. He had no watch but he presumed the time to be close to midnight, which meant that soon enough people would be departing from the hall and off to the (much more important) afterparty, presumably at Bebe's. He entered the dancefloor for the second time that night, dodging the dancing bodies with ease, his eyes on the search for a certain little guy. When a thorough scan of the room ensured that the blond was nowhere to be seen, he ventured off into the hallway (which was supposed to be restricted access, but that they'd not bothered locking the doors to) and blinked rapidly as the light assaulted his eyes, a strong change from the dim strobes in the hall. A few people lined the walls; the goths were lined up, muttering to each other by non-conforming by conforming (not like those emo bastards); Cartman (so THERE'S where the fatass was) was huddling over something that was concealed by his huge girth, and Kenny would have walked right on by uninterested in whatever shit the big guy was up to had he not heard a feeble "Well, alright then," mumbled somewhat half-heartedly from beneath Catrman's shadow. As it was, he grabbed the Fatass by the shoulder, yanked him backwards and extended a hand to a teary-eyes Butters, huddled up on the ground and looking rather sad.
"Kenneh!" Cartman wailed from behind him as he helped the little guy back onto his feet. "Kenneh, no Kenneh, I'm helping him. Kenneh- BUTTERS!" Unfortunately it was no use, because even if Butters had wanted to go back and involve himself in whatever dastardly deed Eric was planning, Kenny's hand was clutched so tightly around Butters' that the boy wouldn't have been able to separate them come hell or high water. Only when they were back in the safety of the dark, Cartman-free room did Kenny release his friend, marching him first over to the table that Craig had previously occupied and sitting him down, giving the boy such a sharp, 'wait-here' kind of look that he mumbled a contrite kind of "Well, okay then Kenny," even though Kenny had not actually spoken a word. Honestly, how many times did he have to tell Butters to stay away from Cartman? It was becoming a lecture he'd given all too many times.
With a tad more anger in his step than usual, Kenny made his way over to the bathrooms, swing the door open quietly just enough to poke his head through. Not much to his surprise, Craig had Tweek sat up on the bench-basin, shirt off and drying over the door of an open cubicle. Slightly more (but only very slightly more) to Kenny's surprise, Craig was tracing what appeared to be tiny, reassuring little kisses down Tweek's neck. Nice. Butters was almost erased from his mind completely as he watched Tweek's mouth open in little sighs of contentment and he could have stayed and watched all night, because honestly, what kind of person wouldn't want to watch the school's hottest guy sex up the school's biggest freak? Talk about the stuff of fantasies. Unfortunately, Tweek managed to prise his eyes open just long enough to spot him and his peeking, and the resultant 'GAH!' that he let loose was enough to send a murderous looking Craig towards Kenny's head. Needless to say, he backed away from the bathroom and decided to leave the boys to their game. Craig didn't follow him, being somewhat otherwise occupied.
When he returned to the table, Kenny found it occupied by more than just Butters. Kyle and Stan sat next to each other - respectively, on their laps sat Bebe and Wendy, and Kenny would have been more than a little disappointed had he not been able to tell that secretly, covertly, the two boys were holding each others' pinky finger beneath the table and out of sight.
A successful night then.
He grabbed his jacket, the fingers of Butters' right hand, and made his way to the exit. When Butters attempted to stutter out a question he ignored it and picked up his pace, heading to the shitty old pickup truck parked outside of the car's carpark because by the time he'd arrived it had been filled by everyone else. Only when they'd reached it's rusty doors did Kenny turn and give Butters the time to speak, but by the time Butters had managed to choke out of his winded lungs "What on earth are you do-" Kenny had become impatient, shoved him up against the door of the truck and enclosed their mouths in a somewhat awkward, teethy kiss. As expected, Butters didn't fight back, but when they broke for air the little guy did look awfully confused. "Well, Kenny, by golly, that was-"
"Shut up," Kenny demanded. Butters did. And by the time everybody else broke out of the hall, done with the dance and ready for the party (minus Tweek and Craig, who probably were too occupied to realise everybody else had gone), Butters and Kenny had long departed, because Butters liked to know that Kenny was there to keep him safe, and Kenny was just sick of standing there, watching, knowing, knowing and only ever watching.