Chapter Track: No One's Boy - Marcy Playground
Kenny didn't want to open his eyes. He knew that as soon as he did, the raging hangover would be on. Plus, he'd have to discover where he ended up, and in whose bed. Or car. Or, well, just who he'd fucked. He made a long groaning noise in his throat and rolled to his side. Shit, his head hurt.
Wait.
Kenny experimentally rolled to his other side.
It felt like he was…wearing clothes.
That made Kenny open his eyes. He instantly regretted it. Colorado seemed to be forever sunny, and piercingly so—being a mile higher than the rest of the United States really fucked them over in the sun department.
"Fuuuuuuck," he hissed, clutching at his temples. He gave himself a few moments to recover from the initial shock, and then, vertebrae by vertebrae, he sat up.
"Well, fuck me," he murmured, surprised. He was, in fact, in his clothes. He wasn't missing anything—not his hoodies, or his pants, or even his shoes. He'd fallen asleep without having sex. A quick look around told him that the place he'd fallen asleep was none other than the bed of Stan's truck, which was still parked a few sprawling yards from Stark's pond. On his left side, Stan had fallen asleep spooning his girlfriend.
On Kenny's right side was Kyle. Kyle was missing clothes. Not all of them, but he was down to his boxers (were those little Triforces? Kenny squinted at the undergarment). The only bit Kenny actually recalled Kyle losing was his hat. The rest of the night was wiped from his memory. Normally Kenny would have thought that this meant he had an incredible night, but since he'd woken up in all his trappings, he figured, perhaps not.
The air was slightly cool. Stan had parked his truck so that the sunrise cast the shadows of the trees onto the vehicle, making their spot a little colder. Beside Kenny, Kyle mumbled something unintelligible and shivered.
Kenny hesitated for a moment, staring at his best friend. Then, he reached up and unzipped his bright hoodie. He tucked it around Kyle's shoulders and gazed for a moment at the odd site. Seeing Kyle wrapped in his hoodie was strangely erotic to him.
At that, Kenny shook his head and hopped from the truck bed, landing with an almost inaudible thunk as his sneakers touched the ground. He slogged through the wreckage with his hands tucked into the pockets of his baggy jeans. Empty beer cans and bottles littered the area, broken up by the occasional passed-out teenager. Token had fallen asleep with his legs propped up on a tree stump, and his hand rested on Bebe's breast, who was curled up beside him in a fetal position.
Kenny crouched at the edge of the water and splashed some onto his face. It did the trick. He felt improved almost immediately. His headache, however, persisted, and he knew he wouldn't be able to survive the morning without coffee to sustain him.
He pushed his way into Tweak Bros. Coffee, which was mostly empty, except for a couple people in the back. Kenny ordered a cup of black coffee and exchanged a couple crumpled one dollar bills for the beverage.
"Have a nice morning, Mr. McCormick," Mr. Tweak said, a little too cheerfully for the time of day. Kenny mumbled a, "you too," before exiting the shop.
The coffee made for a wonderful cure. The taste of bile that had been stuck in his throat dissipated, and his head cleared. Kenny walked back to Stark's Pond at a leisurely pace.
He took the time to think. Mostly, to contemplate how to go about conquering Kyle without A) Stan finding out, or B) Stan getting involved. Why was Stan being such a pussy, anyway? You might hurt him, Kenny, he mocked in his head, rolling his eyes. Kenny guzzled the rest of his coffee and tossed the cup onto the sidewalk, replacing his hands in the pockets of his pants.
Kyle wasn't stupid, damn it. If Kenny managed to actually snare the guy, Kyle would know that it wouldn't be a forever thing. Kyle knew that about Kenny. He knew Kenny did do the whole commitment thing. Kenny liked sex, not the ooey-gooey bullshit that a relationship entailed. None of the baby, sweetie, hunny crap. Even Stan and Wendy became too much for him sometimes. He didn't know why, but it overwhelmed him. Made him feel sick.
As Kenny approached the pond again, it looked as though others had begun to wake. Bebe had moved Token's hand off of her tit and appeared to be searching for her MIA shirt.
"Looking good, Bebe," Kenny remarked, laughing.
"Fuck off, Kenny," she said back, but she didn't seem to be paying much attention to him.
Yeah, Kenny didn't belong to anybody. He was no one's. People belonged to him, not the other way around.
Kenny clambered back into Stan's truck. It looked as though Stan was beginning to stir, but didn't want to wake up. Kenny knew the feeling. As he slid back down to where he'd fallen asleep, Kyle murmured sleepily.
"Why are you naked, Kenny?" Kyle had said.
o.o.o.o
Kyle was dreaming.
Not unpleasantly, but it was sure as hell one boring fucking dream. Kyle was just…in the school's cafeteria. Eating pizza. Sitting with his friends. They were discussing the merits of Fallout: New Vegas. Or, at least, he and Kenny were discussing the merits of Fallout. Stan was macking with Wendy, Craig had his head on the table and appeared to be sleeping, and Cartman was flicking bits of food at Kyle's face by using his plastic spoon as a catapult.
"Cut it out, fatass!" dream Kyle shouted.
Cartman snickered, "Oh, look. Jew boy is sad."
Dream Kyle was about to argue, when Kenny snapped, "Cartman, shut the fuck up. Leave Kyle alone, for fuck's sake." Kenny stood up, and in his hands, a science fiction-type gun had appeared.
Kenny wasn't wearing anything. Nothing but those weird scars that he still hadn't explained to Kyle.
"Why are you naked, Kenny?" Dream Kyle asked, because that seemed like the logical question.
o.o.o.o
"Why am I what?"
Kyle started awake.
"Oh, Jesus," exclaimed the redhead, "Oh, fuckballs. Fucking what the fuck. Christ."
Kenny's lips quirked up, "Hangover?"
"Yes, and fuck," Kyle expressed. He took a moment to breathe, and then blinked up at Kenny, who was trying not to laugh. Kyle asked, "Um, dude. Where are my clothes?"
"Hell if I know," answered Kenny, "I woke up and you were missing them."
"Wait, why do I have your hoodie?" Kyle sat, confused, and peeled the orange jacket off of him.
Kenny shrugged, "You looked cold. You know, since you were naked and all."
"Will you two shut up?" Stan grumbled.
Kyle and Kenny glanced back at their friend. Stan was struggling to sit up. He had one hand massaging through his black hair. Stan complained, "Christ, dude. I'm trying to sleep off a helluva night and you two ladies are just fucking yapping away. Ah, fuck, and now look. You woke up my girlfriend."
"No, you woke me up, Stanley," Wendy said this into Stan's jacket, which she has taken and made into a pillow.
"Does anybody know where my clothes are?" asked Kyle, irritably.
"Your hat's probably someplace near the pond," put in Kenny.
"Hey Kyle!" called Bebe. The group winced at the volume of her voice, "I found your pants! At least I think they're yours…your wallet's in the back pocket. Haha, you have a punchcard for yoga? Gay!"
Kyle grumbled, but stumbled over to Bebe to collect his pants.
Kenny had never noticed before, but Kyle had a nice ass. Not too flat, not too round. Just perfect. He'd like to get his hands on an ass like that, especially if it was attached to Kyle. It probably looked even better when it wasn't covered by Zelda boxers-
"Kenny, do not even think about it," Stan warned, "I told you last night, dude. Kyle is off limits. I am not fucking around here."
Wendy said from her makeshift pillow, "Wait, what? Kenny want to fuck Kyle? Oh, come on, Kenny."
"Fuck off, Wendy, it's not your business. Frankly, it's not yours, either, asswipe," Kenny said to Stan.
The friends glared at each other, Kenny with his arms crossed, and Stan still with his hand in his hair. Stan then said, voice low and dangerous, "Please, Kenny."
"I am going to fuck him, Stan," Kenny replied snidely, "and you're not going to fucking stop me."
"Not if I can help it," Stan spat back.
Kenny gave this the middle finger, taking a page out of Craig's book. He may have been no one's boy, but Kyle sure as fuck would be his.
I shall dedicate this update to TheNerds. It's rather impressive how much reviews motivate me. ;)