Hey hey hey! First things first, the song in the last chapter was The Only Exception by Paramore, in case anybody was wondering. Sorry, I forgot to mention it. _; Anyway, it's a Sunday night which means there might not be another update until the weekend. I was churning them out this weekend because I knew I wouldn't have much time during the week. Thanks for all the reviews and favorites, you guys! I appreciate it. ;) Peace ~ CrisisOmegs

PachucaSunrise - I address the whole Kenny thing here a little bit, just for you. 3 Thanks for always reviewing, I love your story.

Butters lay down in bed that night and he couldn't stop thinking. He nestled his head deep into his pillow and pulled the covers up so that only the tip of his blond head could be seen. He felt safe and warm, and he felt comfortable thinking about Kenny. He was having trouble not thinking about him, in fact. But after years of being told to behave and being told what to think, Butters had, to some extent, learned how to behave himself. This meant that he didn't dare think of Kenny while he was at the dinner table, or doing his homework, or watching television with his parents in the same room.

Underneath his sheets, Butters felt that nobody could penetrate his thoughts, which sounded like an awfully nice idea because he had some major thinking to do.

Kenny was attractive and charming, and he'd been the coolest person Butters had ever hung out with. Butters loved how comfortable Kenny was with himself, and how it looked like he never doubted himself. But Kenny didn't do it in a mean way like Cartman did a lot of the time. Kenny was just acting the way he knew how, and he didn't see any reason to think he should be acting otherwise. Butters wished he could be like that, sure of his actions.

But Butters was really scared. He and Kenny had sat on the bench for an hour, and they had talked although Butters couldn't recall about what exactly. The whole time he was just filled with euphoria, because somebody really wanted to be with him. Kenny really wanted to sit there and talk to him. It made Butters feel giddy.

He was scared because it was so unnatural. Because nobody wanted to sit there and talk to Butters, not if they were right in the head. It was a theme that popped up over and over again in his life, and even though Kenny and his performance had taken his breath away, the small creature called suspicion had burrowed its way into Butters' brain as soon as he was left alone again. What had he done that suddenly made his dream come true? What sort of thing must have happened to get him private show and a love confession to boot?

So even though he wished he wouldn't, and even though he was still so gullible, Butters couldn't help but have doubts. He believed most everything people told him, as long as it wasn't something about himself. He had believed Kenny when he'd said he couldn't die, because it didn't have anything to do with Butters. Past experiences had cemented into Butters the idea that if he was complimented or told he was special or anything like that, those people were lying. He didn't have a reason to doubt anything unless he felt the manipulative pangs of false flattery.

He just didn't want to get used again. He still went along with Cartman's plans, because he didn't know what else to do. And often, he'd set aside his suspicions because he wanted to feel the vain hope of affection. But this time, it had been so sudden and beautiful and it looked so sincere the way Kenny sang and played his guitar, that Butters couldn't ignore all the warning signals going off in his head. As much as he'd like to.

He went deeper into his bed, feeling it swallow him up whole and he wished it wouldn't spit him out. But he heard the door to his bedroom open, shattering him from his isolation. Even though he didn't move a muscle, the moment had been ruined as he remembered that at sixteen, his father still came in late at night to make sure he was asleep at ten o'clock, and that he really wasn't worth singing for.

Even if he had become less confident in himself over the years, Cartman still didn't make many mistakes (in his opinion). But when he saw Butters and Kenny next Home Ec, he was so pissed that he actually regretted digging up info for Kenny. For seriouslah.

Kenny was mostly the same as always, still keeping his cool and not giggling like a lovesick school girl. Except every time he talked to Butters he'd get this happy grin on his face, and it was so stupid and he just looked so genuinely overjoyed that Cartman couldn't take it.

Butters was worse. Sooooo much worse; while Kenny was calm, Butters was giggly and goofy and more of a klutz than usual. Additionally, Cartman could swear that Butters was actually being flirty with Kenny. Butters and "flirty" should NEVER be uttered in the same sentence.

Let's make one thing clear: they weren't going out. Yet.

Butters, for all of his romantic antics, was hesitant about going out with any guy because of his parents' stance on the matter. Cartman could tell right off the bat; Butters was the kind of guy who desperately wanted to be swept up in a romance, but he was also the type of guy who had a hard on for true love only. While Butters was gullible and innocent to a fault, he was also an idealist, and Cartman knew he'd do everything to make sure this wasn't some shitty set-up. Which it sort of was.

Nonetheless, the sight of the two was enough to send Cartman in a fury. He hated that they were getting along, and, truthfully? He felt like when the two fags got together, he'd be all alone.

No doubt they'd want to spend every waking moment with each other, kissing and handjobs and all that. And they were Cartman's two best friends. Or at least the closest he had to any such thing.

But more than being alone, Cartman was overcome with jealousy. He was jealous of how comfortable Kenny was with his sexuality. He was really fucking jealous.

So he went out and bought a bouquet of roses, with a cheesy card and he scrawled the name "Wendy" on the inside. Two shy owls, one holding a box of heart-shaped chocolates, adorned the front. It was so gay and totally perfect for the hippie bitch. He'd have her swooning in no time, and then he wouldn't even have a reason to be attracted to guys.

He brought it to school in the morning and hid it in his locker when Kenny came up to him, smiling contentedly and giving Cartman a high-five.

"Dude, that tip totally worked!" he said, triumph shining in his eyes. "Butters and I are totally going to get together. Holy shit, it's like, only a matter of time, you know?"

Cartman stepped back from the cheerful teen, putting his hands out in front of him.

"Jesus, don't come so close to me with that look on your face. I don't even want to know what you're thinking of right now. It's kind of freaking me out, fag."

"Hey, lighten up. Don't you get it? I'm totally up for the next part of the deal now!"

"…"

"What?"

Cartman sighed loudly.

"Kenneh, I'm afraid I cannot justify funding your excessive faggotry any further," Cartman spat,trying to sound as bigoted as possible.

"What? Hey Fat-ass, what happened to our agreement? You're just gonna back out now?"

"Kenneh, you don't even need it."

"What if I fuck up?"

Cartman looked up in surprise. Kenny was actually nervous about this. It disgusted Cartman, to think that Kenny was so invested in this endeavor that he was actually afraid of messing up.

Cartman laughed in his face.

"Do I look like I care?" he sneered, and he saw Kenny shove his hands into his pockets after flipping him the bird and starting to walk away.

That's what you get for being a fag, Cartman thought. And, you know, acting on it.

Wendy rolled her eyes as a flamboyant Cartman, carrying himself in a way which he probably thought made him look sophisticated, headed towards her with bouquet in hand.

She groaned, and Bebe looked up in surprise. The two girls were chatting at Wendy's locker before Cartman appeared at the scene.

Bebe laughed nervously.

"You want I should get out of here? I'm guessing you want to have a talk with him all on your own," she said, giving Wendy a sympathetic look. "He's getting a little ridiculous with this stuff."

"Yeah, uh, you go ahead. Didn't you want to talk to Kenny about something anyway?" Wendy reminded her friend, and Bebe's eyes lit up.

"Oh no, I decided to hook up with Clyde this weekend," Bebe winked. "Too-de-loo, good luck with the Chubmaster!"

Wendy grinned in spite of her situation and gave Bebe a friendly push forwards. The flirtatious blond made her way happily from the locker moments before Cartman arrived.

"Wendeh," she heard, and at the same time caught a whiff of roses as Cartman shoved the bouquet at her face.

Her expression changed from worried to simply annoyed.

"What is it, Cartman?" Wendy said, trying her best to sound like she wouldn't bother giving him the time of day.

"I believe that women enjoy receiving dead plants from attractive men," he sneered. "And so I've come to treat you to just such a thing. I believe you'll find that your affections for me have skyrocketed to the point of lust. Shall we go back to my place?"

He leaned forwards and closed his eyes, sticking his lips out in a way that suggested he'd had little practice kissing. Wendy shrank back, wrinkling her nose.

"Look Fat-ass," she began, but stopped as she realized it wouldn't be worth the trouble. She just scoffed and attempted to move away, but Cartman blocked her way out with a solid arm.

"But Wendeeeeeeeeeeehhhhh," he moaned, drawing attention to himself. Wendy smirked as she thought just how little he'd changed since elementary school, at least in the way he acted. He was still coming up with manipulative schemes that she still found offensive and excessive. He still had quirks and charms, and she couldn't deny she found them appealing. But as always, the bad outweighed the good to an astronomical extent. That couldn't be helped. But maybe if she wanted to get him back for all the shit he'd ever pulled…

"Ok," she said.

Cartman's jaw nearly dropped to the floor, and she was surprised to find that he'd doubted himself. But he quickly got himself back together, and his eyes had that familiar look of complete confidence. If she hadn't been paying attention, she wouldn't have noticed his doubt at all.

"Hehe, so for all her protesting, the hippie bitch still wants me, huh? Alright, then we go to—" he began, but Wendy held up her hand.

"On my terms only. If you fuck this up," she said, her foul language causing a smile to twitch across Cartman's face, "you have to agree that you'll stop all these ridiculous advances. Deal?"

Cartman eyed her suspiciously.

"Meeeh… What… 'Conditions', exactly?" he questioned, although he certainly looked pleased with himself.

"One: you show up at my doorstep at eight on Friday, clean and shaven, wearing a dress shirt and pants along with a tie. AND cologne," Wendy said; the agreement was bringing out her inner businesswoman.

Cartman opened his mouth and a pained look spread over his face, but Wendy continued her demands.

"Two: you don't swear or make racist, sexist, or prejudiced comments of any kind. This includes calling me a ho, a bitch, a hippie, or a hippie bitch. Three: I decide the conversation topics, I decide the location, and I decide what happens afterwards."

Cartman sneered at her and protested, but his heart clearly wasn't in it.

"Y-you think you can take control of this date like that, ho? I'm the one who asked. I'm so… I mean, seriouslah…" he mumbled, and Wendy drew her face close to his. Cartman's not the only one who can play some seriously fucked-up mind games, she thought with a wicked grin.

"Cartman, do you honestly think you'll ever get a date without me here to go out with you? You've gone sixteen years without a girlfriend, I doubt they'll be falling all over you any time soon. Face it; you've got two options here. The first is to go along and be whipped for the first time in your life, and the second is to be a bachelor for the rest of your high school career," she said, and she was reminded how much of a sadist she could be herself. She decided to add in one more acidic insult: "Maybe you'd better just start dating guys."

If Cartman had been having any inner turmoil about setting aside his pride before, he certainly didn't have any now; his sudden about-face wasn't what Wendy had been expecting.

"Friday at eight, right?" he said, and Wendy nodded.

Her face was blank on the outside, but inside she felt more excited than she should have been. Tormenting Eric Cartman was a rare chance, and he always deserved it.

She took the bouquet in her hands after Cartman had left. The owls were a nice touch.

Kenny waited by Butters' locker that afternoon, eager to walk him home. It was raining hard outside and he knew Butters' parents weren't going to pick him up, and Butters had some kind of Honors Students meetings or some shit like that, which meant he'd miss the bus. Kenny would be there waiting, a well-worn (but fully functional) umbrella at his side, reminding the timid blond that he'd be there for him.

Simply put, Kenny's newfound affection had found an old part of his personality and rekindled it. His excitement for anything at all had petered down to a feigned look or surprise at most of the events in South Park. There were times when he remembered the frequent "woo-hoo!"'s of his childhood, the passion he used to have for stuff, and had gotten jealous. Hanging out with Butters, who was still as childish as when they first met, had started up that passion again. Lucky for you, Butters, you bring out the passion in me, Kenny thought, and he reprimanded himself for thinking sexual thoughts when the actions themselves were a long way coming.

Though, to be honest? Cartman's refusal to give up any more of Butters' desires had left Kenny a little nervous.

Butters approached, and Kenny flashed him a warm smile. He opened the umbrella while they were still in the hall.

"Are you superstitious? Either way, I'd like to walk you home," he greeted the other blond, looking at him lovingly.

Butters gave a nervous laugh and rubbed the back of his neck while his cheeks flushed red. He looked up at Kenny. While he seemed to almost be wary of the taller teen, Kenny could tell that Butters wanted to indulge in more of these moments. Maybe Kenny's performance had gotten Butters addicted to these romantic types of things.

Kenny hoped he was doing just enough to show how much he cared. And not so much that he looked like a total creep.

"A-aw shucks Kenny," Butters stuttered, and he started mashing his fists together like always. "You didn't hafta, well, wait here for me till my meetin' was over. You don't hafta do this stuff for me."

Cuuuuuuute.

"I know," Kenny said thoughtfully. He brushed against Butters' hand, hoping to enclose it. He wasn't only doing this because he wanted to be nice; it was because he wanted to be in a relationship with Butters. He loved the kid, but he wasn't sure how long he would be able to wait around before getting antsy.

"K-Kenny," Butters said gently, pulling his hand away. "W-we can't hold hands or nuthin', though." Seeing the other boy's crestfallen look, he added quickly, "N-not if we're going to my house. I mean, I might like to try it. S-sometime. Like, only if we was datin'…"

Butters blushed furiously and his eyes flitted back and forth on the ground. Kenny was pleased with the answer; he draped a long arm across Butters' shoulders.

"I promise not to try anything," he said. "As long as we walk like this until we're out of the school campus."

He had to be pushy sometimes. Butters certainly wasn't going to get any less wishy-washy.

Butters started to argue, but Kenny had already started walking.

Kenny felt Butters' small, warm body against his until the crossed over onto the next street, and he could swear the blond moved a little closer before their bodies separated.

I wonder if I'm enjoying this more than I should.