So, i actually have most of this story planned out and there isn't any way i could work Dip in without ruining the flow of the story T.T on the upside, i now want to do a Dip story because that pairing kicks so much ass.
Enjoy!
a/n
The return trip to Earth from Hell hurts just as much as dying, at least for me. My body is pulled out of nothing, the atoms ripped from the surrounding materials. Not a fun process. You know how energy equals mass and all that physics shit? Turns out, the kinetic energy result of fusing my body together is that it hurts like a mother fuck.
At least I'm wearing clothes this time.
"Kenny!"
Wendy's scandalized voice sounds from about knee level. Her voice is so shrill and awful. I honest to god cannot see what Stan sees in her.
I open my eyes and realize that I'm in the lunchroom.
On Wendy Testaburger's table.
Standing in her tray of food.
"Dance!" Stan calls from two tables away. I cock a hip and put a hand to my ear. Kyle joins in the chant and others follow until the lunchroom echoes with the demand for me to dance. From my vantage point on the table I can see that I have everyone's attention.
"Nah, not today." I jump down. Several people boo me.
"Aw, man, Clyde was about to jizz himself there." Kyle snickers. Clyde shrieks a negative.
"Dude." I wrinkle my nose. "Been there, done him, not all that impressed." Clyde flushes even redder and sputters. I steal his pudding.
"Dude, give it back!" Clyde stretches across Craig, who's sitting next to him, trying to reach the pudding I'm rapidly devouring.
Suddenly he jumps backwards, shrieking like a little girl, and rams into Tweek, who shrieks even louder and shriller and falls backwards off the bench. Everyone but Craig stares at him. Craig's going to help Tweek.
They're so gay for each other.
"…Craig poked me." Clyde finally speaks through his florescent blush. No one looks away.
"I wanna know where he poked you to get that fucking shrill." Kyle speaks up. When all Clyde does is splutter, Kyle goes white. Along with his hat and hair, it's a really unattractive Christmas.
"Seriouslah, do nawt answer that." Cartman advises Clyde. He nods vigorously. I hand him the empty pudding cup.
"Sonuvabitch." He mutters in disgust. I ignore him.
Stan had grabbed my shoulder.
"Are you okay?" he asks in an undertone. I smile, mentally beating the breathless feeling of his contact out of myself.
"Fine." I shrug, leaning my elbows on the table. I've finished everything I'd stolen and am still hungry, but whatever. Nothing new.
"Here." Stan hands me his container of carrots sticks. I grimace but take them and start gulping them down. "Wanna hang out this weekend?" he continues, watching my performance with amusement.
"Sure. Usual?" I ask. The usual is heading to the store after school, stocking up on snacks, and spending the rest of the weekend playing videogames until we drop from exhaustion. Usually Cartman tagged along, though no one ever invited him.
"Yep." He smiles. I grin but look down at the almost finished carrot sticks. Direct contact with his smile is a one-way ticket to a hard-on.
As expected, when I finally haul my lazy ass to Stan's house, the fatass is taking up the whole couch, eating Cheesy Poofs. I roll my eyes at his scowl and drop next to Stan. Absently I check the time.
"You guys gone to the 7-11 yet?" I ask. Cartman gives an angry snort.
"Nah, we waited for you." Kyle pauses the game and sets his controller down.
"Cool." I say, even though I have no money to get anything and wish they had just gone without me so they wouldn't wind up accidently rubbing my poorness in my face.
Although in Cartman's case it'll definitely be on purpose. His perennial nickname for me is Po'boy, after all.
"Let's go." Stan heaves himself upright, and then extends a hand to help me up. I take it, embarrassed by the ease with which he pulls me upright. I weigh exactly diddly over squat, and most of that is skeleton.
I'm suddenly hyperaware that Stan hasn't let go of my hand yet. I hazard a lightning glance at Stan, trying to see his intention in his expression.
He's talking to Kyle. Not looking at me at all.
A little knife of jealousy and hurt stabs through my heart, but I ignore it. I have no right to feel jealous. I should just enjoy the contact.
Despite that, an ache starts in my chest and threads its way through my whole body.
Cartman interrupts my contemplation by pushing between Stan and I.
"Hurry up, fags! Ahm hungry!" he whines. Kyle growls, Stan rolls his eyes, and I tug my parka hood over my blush. I have laugh at myself. I'm acting like a lovesick girl.
I follow them out the door to Stan's car.
When we pull up to the 7-11 I'm licking blood off my lips before it drips down my chin and stains my jeans. These are my good pair, the ones that make my ass look damn fine.
On second thought, telling Cartman that his jacket made his man boobs less obvious hadn't been the best idea. But it made Stan laugh.
"Hurry, Po'boy." Cartman pushes me out the door of the car and onto the asphalt, stepping over me to get out. I scramble to my feet, a dark scowl on my face, but Kyle grabs my shoulder.
"Allow me." He smirks. I shrug and Kyle sneaks up behind Cartman. Looking back at me, he raises his eyebrows.
I give a thumbs up.
Kyle grabs Cartman's hair and yanks viciously backwards, at the same time planting his foot behind his knee.
Cartman topples over in what seems to be delicious slow motion, squealing like a pig and flailing at the air uselessly. Kyle dances nimbly out of the way of his grasping hands, pointing and laughing.
I bend double, crying painful tears of joy.
"That-," I choke out, "was fucking… perfect. Tell me… someone was… recording that."
"Gotcha covered." Stan sniggers, handing me his phone. I cradle it delicately, watching the short clip of video. It's solid gold.
"KAHL! You fucking kike!" Cartman roars, lumbering to his feet, face red and sweaty. He looks like he just shit a brick.
"You fucking deserved it. And don't call me that, fatass!" Kyle scowls, slinging an arm protectively over my shoulder. I frown. I'm not a fucking chick.
"Oh Kyle, thanks for defending me." I croon in his ear, trying to sound like a girl. Kyle snickers and pushes me back, into Stan. I'm laughing again.
I catch sight of Stan's face. He's looking confusedly between us.
"Come on." He says at last. I decide I feel so good, I want to push my luck.
"Oh, I will. I'll even scream your name, baby." I purr, running a hand through his hair. He freezes, staring at me in fascinated horror, cheeks so red you could get a tan from them.
"Kenneh, you FAG." Cartman lumbers after me, probably guessing it was me that told Kyle to trip him.
I laugh and dart away, feeling like the whole world is perfect.
Slowly I browse through the candy shelves, wondering if it's worth the risk to palm a few pieces. I'm not that hungry, though, and the store clerk is watching me suspiciously. Probably not a good idea to risk it.
"Hey." I look up and see Stan standing next to me. He's still blushing a little bit. I grin and look back at the Snickers in my hand. I regretfully put it back and turn away.
"You want it?" Stan asks. I look back and see him wiggling the candy at me. My mouth waters but I bite down on it.
"Nah, I'm fine." I smile and shrug. He narrows his eyes at me.
"I'll pay for it." He says. I wince. That's what I was afraid of. I don't want my friends to think I need them to pay for everything. Poor little Kenny, he's so sad, got no money, we have to pay for him. Maybe we could even start a damn charity!
"I said I was fine!" I snap at him. Maybe being angry will distract him.
"Kenny, just take the damn candy!" Stan snaps back, trying to hand me the Snickers. I push it back at him. I'm not going to lower myself that far, to being a charity case for him. I'll be damned if I'm going to lose my pride over this.
Cartman bellows a particularly racist insult at Kyle and the store clerk sends us a very irritated look. I give it five minutes tops before she throws us out.
"Please? Just take it." Stan recaptures my attention. He knows I'm never able to deny him when he uses that tone. He thinks it's because I'm a sucker for guilt trips, and I'm not about to inform him that when he begged like that I get turned on like whoa.
"Fine." I huff. "But I swear Stan, I don't need handouts!"
At that precise second a gunshot rings out in the store.
I, with intuition tuned by thousands of situations like this, grab Stan and drop, pulling him to the floor with me. Kyle, at the other end of the aisle, has also done so. Except he hadn't grabbed Cartman. Unfortunately, the fatass has enough sense to drop as well.
The sound of bullet casings tinkling onto the floor echoes in the silence. I look back and see that the cashier girl is staring at something by the door with wide, terrified eyes.
I inch up to the aisle and look around the corner.
A man stands near the door, fumbling with his gun. His clothes are ragged and dirty and he's shaking, eyes darting to the corners of the store with frantic paranoia.
I get another look at his gun and almost have to laugh. Honestly.
I climb to my feet. The man, who's obviously on something, snaps to look at me.
I hear the clerk screaming. Cartman's cursing and Kyle's gesturing at me wildly to get down. I don't. It's a double barrel shotgun, a maximum of two shots before he has to reload. He'll waste them on me.
"You people disgust me." I tell him, narrowing my eyes. The robber actually takes a step back in surprise.
"Uh…" he says, bloodshot eyes blinking warily.
"I'm willing to bet you aren't as poor as me. But you don't see me trying to hold up a 7-11, do ya?" I take a step forward, trying to appear as threatening as possible.
"Shut up!" the man fumbles with the shotgun and points it at me. "Get down."
"No." I stand firm, maintaining my glare. "You listen to me. I am sick of you people ruining my day."
The man's hand is shaking, but not from nerves. From whatever he's taken, probably.
"Get down or I swear to God-!" he screams.
"You going to shoot me? Try it. I dare you." I interrupt him coolly.
I see his finger tightening in slow-motion. I shut my eyes instinctually, body trying to block out the sight of my death.
Something impacts me from the side.
I hear the shotgun roar.
It was such a nice day.
a/n
is the cliffhanger as obvious as i think it is? i wanted to make it something cool but i feel like i just phailed. i promise next chapter won't suck this bad D:
on an absolutely unrelated note, does anyone know any good Stenny? i can't find good stuff anywhere. this pairing needs more love
I will use any flames to roast marshmellows.
