A/N: Oh wow, look, my first fic for this fandom. I feel like this is bad. I'm sorry.
This is the super-secret fic I mentioned before because I knew this might weird some of you out? I may or may not write more of these, though they'll just be a series of Kenny smut fics just because. Next chapter would probably be Bunny or Crenny. All works are posted to my tumblr first, guillotineghosties.

It was always Cartman's fault and this time was no different, only now the consequences were beyond getting grounded or having to go to bed without dinner. The four boys were behind bars this time, as young adults, thanks to Eric's attempt at a get-rich-quick-overseas scheme. Kyle had been suspicious when he had suddenly declared Cuba as an ideal vacation spot for spring break.

"'C'mon, guys!' he'd said, 'all the kewl kids go to Cuba!' he'd said," Kyle stated in a mimicking tone as he stared at the bars closing the cell he and Kenny had been assigned to. Their other half had been imprisoned somewhere else in the foreign jail. "We only had to go to Canada to even come here—which is highly illegal as it is! I can't believe I let him talk us into this. I'm kicking his fat ass when we get out of here. …God damn it!" The redhead crossed his arms, slamming his back against the cold wall. "Seriously, thinking we wouldn't get caught if he hid fucking cocaine in our bags." He looked over to Kenny, who was sitting facing away from him, hunched over sadly. "Wait, dude, are you alright?"

The other boy jumped little. "O-Oh, yeah. Sorry." His voice was a little panicky, as if he'd just been doing something wrong. In fact, that was the exact shaky tone he'd used when cigarettes were found in his locker during high school.

Kyle paced over to him, only to quickly turn away when he realized that his friend was actually jerking off, dick in hand. "Kenny! What the fuck?!" He pinched the bridge of his nose, a habit he'd began sharing with Stan. "Now is not the time!"

The blond rolled his eyes. "Sorry." He tucked himself back under the waistband of his pants. It wasn't a secret that he was a slight—okay, maybe he was a complete-nymphomaniac. It helped with the stress of any given situation to just sit back and get himself off, an art he'd become an expert at well during adolescence. He gave a nonchalant shrug. "There isn't anything else to really do right now."

Kyle was easily stressed and panicked, more so than the other three boys, and he had a bad habit of initially going into a frenzy before actually thinking clearly enough to develop a plan. But no matter how much he thought about it, unless their life turned into a crossover between Prison Break and Locked up Abroad, they would be stuck here until someone from the US came and got them. If they even would attempt to save them, considering that it was illegal as fuck to even go to Cuba by taking a plane from Canada. And then there'd be repercussions for doing something so highly illegal.

He clinches his fists through his red locks and sat next to his friend. "We are so screwed. Oh my god. We need to think of a plan."

"I actually already have one." Kenny placed a comforting hand on his shoulder and gave him a reassuring smile.

"What? What could you—"

"Just trust me on this, Kyle." He placed a finger across his lips to shush him up. "I'm going to get us out of here, it may just take a little bit of time. But first, dude, you really gotta calm your tits. You're going to get another ulcer if you're not careful."

"I know…" The other gave a heavy sigh.

"Before I get us out, though, I need you not as worried. So." Kenny moved his face closer to Kyle's and gave him a quick peck on the lips. "Let me get you off first."

"Dammit, Kenny, you're just thinking with your dick." He crossed his arms, gave the other an apprehensive look, and then finally slouched his shoulders when Kenny's smug expression didn't falter. "Fine, but you'd better really have something in mind."

Having won his friend over (and it wasn't as if they'd never done anything before, anyway), the sly blond got to work quickly palming the crotch of Kyle's pants as to harden him up. He'd actually already thought of the solution to this entire ordeal when they were booked in and due to a language barrier, couldn't even try to explain to the police what had happened. It'd take a while for him to actually make it back here after he died, so he at least wanted to leave Kyle a little more relaxed. Even if he wouldn't be able to remember why.

"Sh-shit…" Kyle gasped, quickly cupping a hand over his mouth. "I dunno, what if we get caught?"

"People always do gay things in jail. But with the way you're already getting a hard on, I wonder if you're maybe some kind of secret exhibitionist." Kenny smirked up at him mischievously and yanked down the other's pants to see his work.

Kyle looked away, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "Am not." But it wasn't like he could say no even if he wanted to. He did need to get his mind off of their current predicament, after all, and his friend had a certain knack for this kind of thing.

He cupped his hand over his mouth to keep himself from letting out a shuddery cry when Kenny swirled his tongue along the base of his cock. He wondered to himself just how often he did this, calming their circle of friends like this during emotional turmoil. They'd messed around with each other for years now, on and off, casually helping one another masturbate during sleepovers and practicing their kissing skills ("just to practice for girls"—yeah, right). Kenny had always been the go-to for them when it came to anything sexual, seeing as how nothing at home was ever filtered for them.

Kyle managed a weak "fuck" under his breath as the blond took a few inches into mouth and he found himself biting into his index finger. He wasn't very good at keeping quiet, and normally he'd be panting and moaning like a bitch by now.
The deepthroating that followed was too much for him, the wet walls surrounding his dick tightening with every breath Kenny took between sucking him off.
With a constrained buck of his hips, Kyle came all too quickly into his friend's mouth. He quickly shielded his eyes in embarrassment. "S-sorry, dude…"

Kenny pulled himself away, swallowed, and wiped a thread of saliva from the side of his lips. "You know I don't mind." He couldn't help but grin at the way Kyle was sitting there, peeking out at him between his fingers. "Better?"

"Yeah. Thanks." He collected himself as best he could, pulling his pants back up over his now flaccid member. He pat the spot next to him on the bed. "I'll do you now. I mean, I did interrupt you earlier and all."

"Nah, I'll be alright. You can pay me back when we get home." Kenny stood and let out a yawn as he stretched his arms into the air. "I gotta die first, though." It was unavoidable, unless

"Then I won't remember to pay you back." Kyle tried to make it sound as if that were the only reason he was suddenly not as sure about Kenny's plan. He knew of his friend's immortality and his own amnesia that followed it, but the haunting fear of this may be the time he doesn't come back nagged at him on every occurrence. What if Kenny didn't come back, and Kyle never remembered? He credited this dread to his own paranoid thinking, but even the possibility was enough to unnerve him.

"I won't let you forget." His ocean tinted eyes scanned the small cell. He didn't have much to work with as far as suicide went. "This is gonna hurt," he decided. "You may wanna look away."
He didn't check to see if Kyle had heeded his warning; he simply approached the bars, jammed his head through them with the force of a triceratops, pulled back, and twisted as hard as he could until he felt the snap of his brainstem.

~x~x~x

This time he had the pleasure of arriving in Hell, opening his eyes to see the antichrist sitting across a gazebo in the underworld, holding a coffee cup designed with rubber ducks.

"Your life is a porno, Kenny." Damien offered him the hot beverage, keeping a straight face.

He first rubbed at the back of his neck just to assure himself that the injury had already healed up, then graciously accepted. He took a drink; for the son of the incarnate of evil, Damien definitely had a pansy taste in coffee. It was more like a concoction of caramel and lava.

He let out a sigh, resting his chin upon the palm of his hand as he overlooked a courtyard of wilting wildflowers and brown grass. "Yeah. I know."