Finally, it was Saturday. Kenny, who had spent almost all of last night hanging out at Stan's and trying to dodge his infuriating pointed looks and knowing remarks, slept like the dead until around noon. That was when his mom started banging on the door and yelling something about church, as was customary on weekends. Kenny slid reluctantly into consciousness at the sound of her yelling about Jesus, hiding a muffled groan in his pillow and waiting patiently until she gave up and went away, as was also customary.
After she left Kenny tried to go back to sleep, but it was no use. Instead he sat up and yawned, climbing out of bed and picking through the questionable-looking clothes that lay in heaps on the floor in the vague hope that he might find something that wasn't stained and had no rips in it. He managed to rescue a pair of jeans that were almost presentable from underneath his bed and was halfway into them before he remembered that the party was that night. Barely about to prevent himself from toppling over in surprise, Kenny made a grab for his phone, first texting Token to see if everything was going according to plan and then sending the directions to Christophe.
It was only after he was finished that he realized he didn't really have anything else to do until nine o'clock that night. He flopped back onto his bed with a sigh, jeans still hanging open.
For a while Kenny amused himself with staring off into space and thinking about nothing, but it reminded him too much of being in school. After that he wandered around outside for a little until it got too cold, and then he texted Kyle to see if he and Stan could hang out. Kyle answered a few minutes later saying that he was helping Stan study for his Trig test since Stan never bother to do it himself, managing to sound stern and disapproving even through the medium of text. Kenny didn't even bother trying Cartman, because he'd told them all yesterday that he was spending the day at some kind of rally in Denver. Kenny didn't remember what it was for, exactly, but the whole thing had sounded characteristically unsavory.
The rest of the day was practically torture. It always sucked when there was a party at night and nothing to do beforehand, but today was especially nerve-wracking. Kenny refused to allow himself to think that it was because of Christophe, but the notion was sort of lurking around on the edges of his subconscious.
Gradually, night fell. Kenny managed to kill half an hour trying to get ready without making it look like he had been trying to get ready, and by the time he was finished it was already nine. He forced himself to wait fifteen minutes before setting out for Token's house, because as lame as he was being about the whole thing, he definitely wasn't lame enough to be the first one there.
It was kind of weird getting there in the dark, though, especially since Token lived in the richest part of town and Kenny's place was basically the polar opposite, and as a result once he got there he was actually kind of late.
Someone was already puking in the bushes, even. Granted, it was Tweek, but still. Giving him a wide berth as he walked up to the front door, Kenny pushed it open only to be greeted by a thoroughly baked-looking Token, who thrust a red plastic cup into his hand without preamble and informed him cheerfully that Clyde was doing a keg stand in the backyard before wandering off. Thinking that if Christophe was anywhere it would probably be in the yard, Kenny knocked back the contents of the cup and started to fight his way through the crush of people standing around in the living room. They probably would have been dancing if there was any music on, but a scuffle seemed to be taking place over by the front of Token's ridiculously impressive sound system.
Leaning against the doorway that led to the kitchen and nodding every so often at someone he knew, Kenny looked on with interest. Apparently Cartman had gotten back from his rally, the goth kids had decided to come after all, and both of them were brandishing CDs that they wanted to put in the stereo.
The goth kids managed to briefly gain the upper hand and, to the confusion of practically everyone, Bauhaus blared through the speakers for about thirty seconds before Cartman was able to fight them off and put on Lady GaGa. A few people cheered, and everyone started dancing. The goth kids, apparently admitting defeat, went over to the corner to smoke and stare into each other's eyes, or something.
Kenny shook his head and walked into the kitchen, where Butters was talking to Red and mixing fruity drinks with abandon as he did so. He handed one to Kenny with a grin from behind the counter. Kenny, who had already finished whatever it was that Token had given him, leaned against the kitchen table and looked doubtfully down into the cup. The drink sloshed about rather menacingly. It was a violent shade of pink. But still, there was probably alcohol in there somewhere, so Kenny drank it almost as quickly as he had the first one and then headed toward the fridge to get a beer. It wasn't that bad, really. He gave Butters a thumbs-up and grinned as he saw Kyle stumble into the room.
"Done studying?" he asked loudly over the music, grabbing a beer for Kyle and one for himself. Kyle nodded, rolling his eyes fondly as Stan came up behind them and rested his chin on Kyle's shoulder. He looked pretty buzzed already, but with Stan it was sometimes hard to tell. Kenny cracked his beer open and craned his neck past them to see if he could spot Christophe through the back door, but it was too dark outside. He was starting to wonder if the dude was even there at all.
"I have to pee," Kenny announced. Kyle was too busy talking to Red and Butters to notice anything suspicious, but Stan gave him a knowing grin. Rolling his eyes in a decidedly less fond way than Kyle had, Kenny sidestepped the two of them and finally stepped into the backyard.
Clyde had apparently finished his keg stand and had somehow managed to bully Craig into doing one, his hat lying forgotten on the grass as he was surrounded by a small crowd of drunk cheering teenagers. Kenny stopped to watch interestedly for a few moments before he remembered that he was supposed to be looking for Christophe. His stomach gave a nervous twist and he finished his beer in an attempt to quiet it. His face felt flushed even in the freezing cold as he wandered around the perimeter of Token's huge-ass backyard, calling for Christophe and peering into shadowy corners in the hopes of finding him. He took great delight in scaring a bunch of couple who had skulked off into the back to make out, but there was no sign of Christophe anywhere. Feeling rather deflated, Kenny approached the most remote corner of the backyard without much hope.
And there was Christophe, sitting there with a beer in one hand and a cigarette in the other like it was the most natural thing in the world to sit by yourself in the corner when you were supposed to be partying.
"You rat bastard," Kenny said gleefully, going over to sit by him. "I totally thought you weren't going to show up."
"I'm insulted that you think so little of me," said Christophe amusedly, taking a drag off his cigarette and putting down his beer so that he could offer the one behind his ear to Kenny.
Kenny's numb fingers brushed against the fabric of Christophe's gloves as he took it, and he found he had nothing to say. He lit up instead, inhaling and then replying with the first thing that came to mind, because that always worked out so awesomely for him.
"I'm glad you made it."
Christophe regarded him inscrutably, which seemed to have become one of his favorite activities. "Why?" he asked.
Kenny would normally have been frozen with apprehension by this point, but he was starting to feel the effects of the three-odd drinks he'd just had in rapid succession. "I don't know," he said honestly. "Because I like you, probably."
"I think you like a lot of people," said Christophe carefully, in the same infuriatingly toneless voice. Kenny, who felt like he probably was going to need extra alcohol for whatever the hell he decided to say next, stole some of Christophe's beer in what he thought was a stealthy manner but was mostly just him grabbing it.
"Not how I like you," he said, and realized it was true as he said it. "This is really awkward," he added as an afterthought, which was also true.
Christophe actually laughed at this. The sound itself was slightly halting and unfamiliar, like he didn't do it very much at all, but his whole face lit up and he grinned crookedly, an actual grin that stayed on his face for more than two seconds. Kenny may have stared a little.
"And 'ow is that?" asked Christophe. He sounded like he didn't really care one way or the other, but Kenny noted with satisfaction he had stubbed out his cigarette in the grass and looked sort of nervous in the face.
"Well," said Kenny, scooting rather uncoordinatedly towards Christophe and tossing away his own cigarette even though it was only halfway done. His heart was beating at worrying speeds. "Like this."
Kenny had honestly meant to try and employ some sort of technique, but he got so nervous that he just ended up sort of lunging at Christophe, lips-first. It was better once he actually got there, because kissing people was familiar territory and Christophe didn't seem like he was going to beat him up, or anything. In fact, he made a startled sound and then moved to put his hand in Kenny's hair.
All at once, Kenny felt overwhelmingly relieved. His eyes, which had been frozen open in fear, slid shut, and he happily put his tongue in Christophe's mouth. Christophe made a low sort of noise that totally almost made Kenny pop a boner right there and pulled on Kenny's hair a little. Pretty soon they were kissing with such voracity that they toppled right over onto the damp grass, at which point Christophe went worryingly still and took his mouth away from Kenny's, which sucked.
Kenny looked up rather grumpily and then stiffened as he saw Stan, weaving slightly on the spot and looking down at them with interest.
"Knew it!" he said, and then regarded the two of them proudly as though he expected to be awarded some kind of prize for his powers of observation.
"Stan," said Kenny patiently. "Enjoy your last hours on this Earth, because tomorrow I am literally going to murder you." Stan gave him a hurt kind of look and sloped off, presumably to find Kyle.
Once he was gone Kenny braced himself against his elbows and looked up at Christophe worriedly.
"Sorry," he said, because he wasn't sure what else to say. "Stan is an ass hat."
Christophe laughed again, and then leaned forward and kissed Kenny while he was still kind of laughing. Kenny considered it a pretty big achievement that he didn't just melt into a big puddle of like right then and there.
--- --- ---
It was Monday morning, and Kenny was kind of worried. It'd been a whole day since the party, and try as he might, he couldn't stop inventing ridiculous scenarios in his mind that resulted invariably in Christophe deciding that he had made a terrible mistake in making out with Kenny and proceeding to avoid him forever. Not even verbally abusing Stan for a good portion of Sunday had made him feel better.
Kenny took out his phone as he walked, staring at it and trying futilely to get up the nerve to text Christophe and ask him to hang out or something else faggy like that. He was so busy that he didn't notice someone coming up behind him until they fell in step beside him. It was Christophe, of course.
"Hey," said Kenny, trying to sound cool and also as though he hadn't spent pretty much all of the time since they'd last seen each other being ridiculous about the whole thing. Christophe was a French mercenary, for the love of God. He could probably made out with a different awkward teenage dude every day of the week if he wanted to.
Christophe just nodded. They walked in silence for a while, bumping shoulders companionably until Christophe launched into his usual diatribe against organized religion as though nothing was different between them at all. Kenny, who usually thoroughly enjoyed hearing Christophe talk, got kind of a sinking feeling. It lasted all the way up until Christophe walked him to his locker, where Stan was waiting with Kyle.
"Bye," said Kenny, trying to internalize most of his ridiculous and irrational unhappiness.
"See you at lunch?" said Christophe, and then before Kenny was done being surprised about that, he leaned down and kissed Kenny right on the mouth in front of Stan and Kyle and anyone else who cared to look. The lock of someone's locker was digging into his back and someone was catcalling in the background and the late bell was about to ring, but Kenny found that he just didn't give a shit.
"Yeah," he said dreamily and watched Christophe go, ignoring Stan's smug face and Kyle's shocked one. He'd deal with them later.
that's all! thanks for sticking with me and please don't hesitate to direct any comments, concerns, questions or insults you may have right over here.