Disclaimer: I do not own South Park or any of the characters mentioned. Also, there is boy on boy action so you should leave if you aren't into that stuff.
EDITED: MAY 19TH 2015
Honestly, Kyle had no idea why he allowed himself to give in to this. Here he was, standing on his own doorstep, waiting for Stan to pick him up. To go to Token's stupid party. Really, why did he allow himself to give in to Kenny? Why was any of this even happening all of a sudden? There wasn't even a definite answer yet.
Relief flooded his veins when Stan's gray Subaru pulled up in front of his house. It was fucking freezing outside. Another five minutes and surely his balls would have fallen off. Fuck mother nature. Hastily, he pulled open the passenger side door and climbed inside the car.
"Hey, dude." Kyle greeted Stan sourly.
Stan chuckled. "Still not looking forward to this, are you?"
"Very perceptive of you, Stanley," Kyle grumbled.
"Loosen up, Kyle. This'll be good for you, I promise."
He certainly hoped so.
Oh, how right Stan was. Kyle was having the absolute best time he'd ever thought he had in his entire life. He wasn't sure how it had ended up like this. He remembered arriving at Token's house in the most horrible mood, but somewhere along the way Cartman offered him some concoction, which, really had tasted like shit. Or gasoline. But two of those (or was it three?) and two shots of, what he remembered as whiskey, later, here he was sitting in a very disorganized circle. Was it even a circle? It looked more like an oval. Did it matter? Not at the moment. Currently they were supposed to be playing a game. Which was it, again?
Oh! Spin The Bottle.
They had been attempting to play for about twenty minutes now, but everyone was either too fucked up to keep track or too giddy to take it seriously. It was all shits and giggles for Kyle until it was his turn to spin the empty beer bottle that sat in the center of their oval type thing. Quite frankly, he was petrified. Because he didn't want to kiss anyone there. Kenny was probably the only candidate. What the fuck? Kyle thought bitterly. Apparently the alcohol hadn't completely annihilated his unwelcome Kenny-related thoughts like he had hoped.
"Well, kid, aren't ya gonna spin it?" Some big breasted girl, with what Kyle was certain was obviously not natural blonde hair, slurred.
"Yea Kyyyle, jus spin it already." Kyle was almost positive that was Kenny's voice. It was hard to tell in that state.
"A'right, I am. Calm tha fuck down, will ya?"
Shakily, Kyle reached out and, very unskillfully, twisted the glass bottle. The whole group of about twenty-or-so people was completely silent as the bottle spun loudly for what seemed like an eternity before wobbling to a stop. Kyle took a careful breath as he noticed how the bottle had stopped and - oh, no. No, no, no. He slowly raised his head to meet his doom.
Kenny McCormick was smirking back at him defiantly.
He couldn't. He was already in danger of screwing things up, this would further fuck everything up. He literally had jerked himself off to the thought of this guy, not even seven hours prior. He couldn't do this.
"Aw, c'mon Kyle, don't pussy out on me, babe," Kenny slurred, crawling over to Kyle on his knees and puckering his lips.
"Just do it, you fags!" Cartman shouted from his spot on the couch.
Kyle turned to present to Cartman a cold glare, and when he turned back to face Kenny, he yelped in surprise because said blonde was right in his face. What was he supposed to do? They were basically sharing breath at that point and Kenny was staring at him intently, and actually Kyle was pretty positive he was staring at his lips. It was when Kyle spotted Kenny's pink tongue poke out to wet his dry lips that he opened his mouth to speak.
"Kenny, I don't think-"
In mid sentence, Kenny took it upon himself to forcefully crash their lips together. At first Kyle didn't know how to react, so he just gasped brokenly. No. No. This was bad, he was kissing Kenny. Okay, Kenny was kissing him and opening his mouth at all had totally been a mistake because now Kenny's tongue was invading his mouth and, and, and . . . this wasn't very bad. Kenny kissed him almost as if he would starve without Kyle's lips, so hungry and forceful and passionate and Kyle found that it was really, really hot.
Eventually as the guilt and shame faded into somewhere else, Kyle lost himself in it quickly. Kenny's lips were drowning out the sounds of cat calling and music blaring from the stereo system and Kyle tangled his dainty fingers in his already fucked up, but real blonde, hair and he could hear the wet sounds their mouths were making but instead of disgusting him it only encouraged him to continue further. Kyle could blame the alcohol for way he forced all his weight onto Kenny until eventually he was on top of him, effectively straddling him. He blamed Kenny and the way he rutted up against Kyle for the shaky gasp that fell from the redhead's lips. And when Kenny's mouth broke away from his own, it found its way to Kyle's ear. Kenny's hot breath came in heavy puffs against his ear and neck again and again as he continued to shamelessly dry hump his redheaded friend and he was pressing open mouthed, sloppy kisses to Kyle's overheated skin and Kyle thought nothing on this Earth could be better but then one hand was suddenly pressed against his throbbing groin and Kenny was whispering in his ear all over again.
"Wow, so hot me for me, babe." And then the hand started moving and Kyle had started trembling and when Kenny growled, "come for me, Kyle," in the most cliche way, he was completely gone.
Waking up with a massive hangover may or may not have been worth it, Kyle decided. Quite frankly, he couldn't remember anything from the night before and he wondered briefly if that was a good thing. Weirdly, though, he was a bit sore but pinned it on the assumption that he had probably slept on something wrong.
It was totally unsuspected, the sharp pain that shot up his spine when he stood or, God forbid, attempted to walk. Unsuspected, was the foul taste of vomit and suspicious stale cigarette smoke that lingered on his tongue. It was also unsuspected that Kenny would still be sitting on Token Black's front deck puffing away on a menthol cigarette when Kyle had managed to limp his way outside. The elated grin that the blonde sent his way confused Kyle. Hadn't they fought yesterday afternoon? Did they make up in a drunken haze? He couldn't remember.
"How's that ass, Broflovski?" The question rang out loud and clear through the crisp morning air.
Kyle cocked his head in confusion. "Fucking hurts, man. Why do you ask?"
Kenny just chuckled lowly as he flicked ash from his cigarette. "Figured it would after-"
Kenny cut his sentence short at the sight of Kyle genuinely confused expression. His eyebrows furrowed together worriedly.
"Wait, Kyle," Kenny slowly began, "what do you remember of last night?"
Kyle shrugged his scrawny shoulders and laughed bitterly. "Not much. After about my third drink, I was pretty done for."
The blonde froze between drags of his cigarette. His pastel eyes were blown wide, his mouth hung open in disbelief.
"You remember nothing?" Kenny asked again.
"Not much, dude. Ken, Is there something I should know about?" Kyle gave him a look filled with concern.
"Shit. Fucking shit," Kenny hissed. He quickly shot up out of his seat and stomped out his cigarette.
When he turned to face Kyle, he smiled weakly at him. "Nah, it's nothing. Just a lot of people throwing up everywhere, really. But, uh, I have to go now so, uh, I'll see you at school."
Kyle didn't have the opportunity to form a decent reply as Kenny darted past the gates and down the road.
By the time Monday morning rolled around, Kyle had grown extremely worried and suspicious of Kenny's behavior. He hadn't been heard from him all weekend, which was unusual but Kyle considered that perhaps they hadn't actually made up and were still in a fight. Kyle spent all morning contemplating what he would say to the blonde, but when he arrived at the bus stop Kenny was no where to be found. Surprisingly, Stan was there, despite him having his own car, and so was Cartman as per usual but no sign of Kenny.
And when Kyle reached the stop, he was met with two beat red faces staring back at him.
Cartman's was obviously due to withholding a laugh. "How's your ass, Jewboy?"
Seriously, though, why had he been asked that same question over ten times within the last two days?
"Why does everyone keep asking me that?" Kyle whined.
Stan sighed. "You don't remember."
"Holy fuck, remember what?!" Kyle cried out, recalling that Kenny had also said that.
"I told him not to do it," Stan grumbled. "I told him you were too fucked up."
Kyle was growing even more concerned by the second.
"What the fuck happened?"
Stan smiled shyly. "Don't freak out. Promise?"
He took a deep breath to compose himself before he replied, "I promise Stan, now tell me."
"Well, Kenny was kind of all over you all night at that party. But like, no one thought anything of it because, hey, he's Kenny, right? And no one was really paying any attention to you two until we started playing that dumbshit Spin The Bottle thing." He paused to let out a displeased groan at the memory.
"W-what about Spin The Bottle, Stan?" Kyle demanded.
"Alright Kyle, well it was your turn to spin it and you did and it landed on Ken and if you ask me, he was absolutely ecstatic about it. He was looking at you like he wanted to devour you, and then when you guys actually started kissing, I feared he was going to tear off your lips.
"Anyway, you two were full on sucking face and then you got on top of him, Kyle, and you two were like, grinding on each other-"
"And then Kyle came in his jeans," Cartman interrupted, cackling loudly.
But, wait, Kyle thought.
"That doesn't explain why my ass hurts."
Stan cringed noticeably. "Well after that-"
"Kyle, we had sex."
They all turned to look at Kenny, who looked like total and utter shit.
The color of Kyle's face was equivalent to the shade of a tomato, while Kenny's was pale as snow, safe for the deep purple bags beneath his eyes. "Kenny-"
"And you forgot about it. But that's okay, because you were drunk. It's okay that you don't remember because I do, and I have a damn good set of claw marks on my back to remind me."
Kenny was smiling lewdly, but the dull look in his eyes said something else.
"I'm sorry, Ken," Kyle said softly.
"Like I said, it's okay."
Kyle proceeded to attempt a hug, but Kenny just shrugged him off.
"Guys, I've had a ton of sex. That's what it is to me, just sex. It meant nothing, really, so stop looking at me like I just divorced my wife or something."
And with that, the bus pulled up, thus ending that conversation.
Kenny didn't sit near him on the bus that day.
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