Lost

Kenny's P.O.V

The party was extremely boring—no fights and no stripping. What kind of party ends like that? Walking home proves to be more entertaining however. Cartman stumbles ahead of me and Butters. He's drunk off his ass, and grumbling about Kyle. He likes to think we don't see how much he really cares for Kyle, but after he left with Stan, he got pissed off.

He's currently grumbling to the air. Butters is twiddling his thumbs next to me keeping his eyes on the ground. I love this little shy blonde. There's no way I'd be able to tell him, but he's very special to me. It's kind of nice to see him keep the innocence over the years.

"Well, gosh," He whines softly and chews on one of his nails. I grab his hand softly pulling it from his mouth. It was a nervous habit he formed after watching me die at one point—not that he remembers it. "I hope he'll be okay." He watches as Fat ass stumbles up his drive way. He slams his fist on the door until his mom answers and lets him in. Sometimes I wish Liane was my mom. At least she cared about her son; even if she let him get away with murder—literally. I swear, if Cartman was to tell his mom that he had murdered someone, she'd help him hide the body and still call him her sweet little angel.

"Well Butter," I grin throwing my arm over the blonds shoulder and placing a slopping kiss on his cheek. He blushed instantly. It was rather comparable to a tomato; pretty impressive if you ask me. His hand covers the spot and he begins to walk ahead.

"O-oh g-gosh," He flushes more and turns around cocking his cute blonde head. "I di-didn't know you were gay too!" Spit take. What? Butters had no idea, that I, Kenny McCormick, king of South Park whores, was homo? This kid seriously lives under a rock! I laugh and throw my arms around him shaking my head.

"You Butters, are far too cute for your own good!" I wave at him as we part ways. He still lives in a decent part of town, so I'd rather see all the houses and remember that I've still got to go home to a piece of shit. My phone buzzes in my pocket, but I ignore it. I don't really feel like being social.

Answer me- Craig

No- K.M

You just did- Craig

Doesn't count- K.M

Whatever- Craig

Lunch. Me. You.- K.M

Okay- Craig.

"Kenny!" Stan groaned exasperated in our wood class. We were partnered up to make—take a guess—a damned birdhouse! Why in the hell does this teacher feel the need to have ALL of his damn classes make a birdhouse? Guess I can't complain though, it is an easy A. And I need an easy mark; I'm already failing most of my other classes. Not that it really matters or anything. If my future is based off how my parents made themselves, then I'm screwed anyway. Why even waste energy trying?

"What?" I whine pouting as I lay across the table. He rolls his eyes at my childish behavior but that doesn't stop me. "Staaaaannn," I grab his hand and begin sucking on his finger lightly. His cheeks flush as he jerks his hand back.

"Dude! We're in class!" He hisses grabbing the work sheet and passing it to me. It's literally asking us to label each tool on the page. That would take all of five minutes if I knew the actual names for the tools. "We can work on this together," He sighs showing me his sheet. I grin gratefully at him and begin to fill in my blanks. What a great friend he is!

He huffs shaking his head flustered as he watches for the teacher. It's not like our teacher would really care, considering just last week I died by blood loss after cutting off my hand—not that anyone would remember it or anything. "Seriously," He chuckles watching as I scramble to check my answers to his and make sure I put the right ones in the right spot. "You should just pay more attention." I roll my eyes looking at him.

"If I paid more attention, there wouldn't be a reason for us to bond!" I smirk wiggling my nose. He laughs shaking his head and leans back in his chair.

At the end of the school day, I look for a ride home. Typically, Kyle and I would hitch a ride with Stan, but today he has football. So no go for that. Kyle is going to wait around for him, but I'd much rather find a good time. I look around for someone decent in the parking lot. That cuts out Red, Bebe, and Cartman; not that I have a problem with Bebe, she just hangs out with goody two shoe Wendy. I really can't stand Wendy, most people would think we're okay, but if you ask me personally, she's just too good. Then I see that mop of black hair that is all too familiar.

"Hey, Craig!" I call out running over and lean against his hard being sure to just my hips out seductively. "I have a question," I purr leaning up to his ear. A heat rises to his cheeks that is far too adorable. I absolutely adore messing with him. He handles it pretty stoically I must admit.

"What do you want McCormick?" He crosses his arms unimpressed by my tirade. I loop a finger through the hoop of his jeans and jerk him closer to me. He sucks his teeth, running his tongue over his braces. I can't help but wonder what his toothpaste tastes like. It won't take me long to find out.

"I need a ride," I purr leaning up and pushing my lips against his neck. He cocks his head to the side and grunts softly. Slowly, I work my fingers up from his belt loop, and under his jacket. My hands find his shoulders and give a sensual squeeze. "Please."

Craig sighed shaking his head as if to clear it from unwanted thoughts. He opened the door to his backseat and smirked, "After you." Score.