Disclaimer: South Park and all characters in it are copyright Matt Stone and Trey Parker, not me.

A/N:

Hey there everybody, long time no see, eh?

Lot's has happened, but most important of which was that my ferret, Pike, had to be hospitalized, needed surgery, and has been on meds and a special diet since the beginning of January. I've been doing art commissions to help pay for his vet bills, since I didn't have enough, but things have been moving forward. Thankfully, I've found some amazing people who have been very supportive. Yay!

I haven't been writing much at all. Just before V-Day I wrote the next part for The K-Squared 100 (and seriously, if I hadn't pretty much blackmailed myself into doing it, I don't think I'd have a point, no one reviews for that anymore D: )

Writing for ANLS has been very difficult. Things are getting to a certain point of the story, and it's making things a little harder to write. Unfortunately, this means this chapter is a little shorter. However, next chapter will probably be longer due to this.

Thank you reviewers! There are plenty of you, more than I expected for such a Crack pairing, and especially for one written by me (my stories aren't exactly the kind of boylove most people enjoy reading) so I'm very honored that you like it so much. :3 Much love to you all!


Title: A Neapolitan Love Story

Author: Zoshi the Confused
Rating: Ranging, mostly PG-PG13

Category: South Park

Genre: General

May contain: Shounen-Ai/Boy Love, Violence, Adult Situations, Swearing


The room was dark, with a hint of hazy red. Craig blinked, trying to remember where he was. A few blue strands of hair had fallen over his eyes, and he puffed at them. They lifted up only to fall right back down in the same place. Dammit. Shifting slightly, he found his hand was caught up under something, something warm, something that was weighing him down. He looked down to see half-lidded blue eyes looking back at him.

"Hey," Kenny said, grinning softly.

Right, Kenny's house. He'd come over after school.

"I fell asleep?" Craig asked, needlessly. The blonde chuckled, wrapping his arms just a bit tighter around Craigs waist. "What time is it?"

"Dunno," Kenny replied with a shrug. He looked content as a cat, chin resting on Craig's chest, eyes still looking at him in that deep, deep way. Craig grinned, running fingers through the blonde's tousled hair. This felt good; he felt relaxed. Maybe the meds were finally doing their job. Or maybe the harmony of the past few weeks was finally getting to him.

"It looks late," Craig sighed, turning his head to look towards the window. There were clouds, but what he could see of the sky was dark, and streaked with red. Sunset. He was probably supposed to be home by now. "Well, not late-late…"

"I know…" Kenny groaned, pressing his face into Craig's chest. Slight shivers ran up his spine, and he sighed, looking back at the blonde. "And you have to go…"

"Yeah…" Craig didn't want to move, at all. Kenny looked at him, grinning slightly, and pushing himself forward he pressed his lips to Craig's. It was a slow, lingering kiss, and it send sparks of emotion shooting deep down inside of him. Craig wrapped his arms around the other boy, looking up into his face once their kiss ended. A relationship involving Kenny was much different than what he had imagined it to be. The blonde was loose, he was everywhere, with everyone. He'd never spent more than a day and a night with any one person, ever, and yet here he was, giving him smoky looks and some of the calmest, serene, best moments of his life.

All without going past second base.

Put in an actual relationship, Kenny turned out to be as timid as a grade-schooler, and while he talked big around Kyle, it was obvious to Craig that he was more than just a bit shy whenever they came close to anything more intimate than kissing and touching. Which is why, although Craig has spent the better part of the evening in the blonde's bedroom, they still had all their clothes on, and neither one of Kenny's parent's had yelled at them to keep it down.

It was interesting; Craig wondered if Kenny had ever tried this hard with anyone else.

"Your roots are starting to show," Kenny said, brushing the hair out of Craig's eyes.

"Yeah, and it's starting to get too long…" He shifted under the blonde's weight, "I need to get it cut."

"It's not that bad…" Kenny grinned, "Let it go a little longer…"

Craig grinned back; sure, why not. It wasn't all that long anyways.

A buzzing from the floor interrupted the calm, and Craig groaned. Not his parents, please not his parents. Kenny slid off of him as he twisted towards the sound, but it ended abruptly just as he was reaching towards his cell on the floor. A second later the phone buzzed with a slightly different sound. Picking it up, he saw the screen light up with a text message notification.

"Who is it?" Kenny asked, looking around his shoulder. Craig read the note quickly, grumbling under his breath.

"Clyde. My mom's calling people to find out where I am," He sighed angrily, shoving the cell in his pocket. "Geez, it's not even that late, she could at least wait until it's dark before she starts panicking."

Kenny rolled his eyes, and Craig flipped him off as he stumbled off of the bed. Apparently, his legs had not woken up yet.

"If I get in trouble it's your fault," He said, trying to fix his hair a bit as he looked around for his hat.

"My fault?" Kenny asked, and Craig turned around to see him stretched out on the bed, a smirk on his face.

"Yes, your fault." Craig grinned, "For being so fucking hard to leave."

The blonde laughed, eyes glittering, and reached behind him to pull out Craig's beat up blue hat out from underneath the pillow.

"Looking for this?" He held the hat up and waved it around. Craig rolled his eyes, grabbing the hat out of his hand and putting it on.

"Thanks," He leaned down to give the blonde a quick kiss. "See you tomorrow."

"Yeah, yeah, get outta here," Kenny gave him a good-natured shove, and Craig stumbled away and out the door.

Life had definitely changed in the past few weeks. It hadn't been as difficult to juggle a three-person relationship as he had thought, but he had a feeling that that was only because this was still early on. He was sure they would hit a snag at some point, somewhere, but the thought didn't send that crippling fear racing through him anymore. He thought he might be perfectly optimistic about their chances, and that was a little unsettling. He couldn't remember being so optimistic in the past.

Sometimes he missed the periods of distress that had attacked him; he thought that just because he was overreacting in those sorts of situations didn't mean that he wasn't reacting the right way. Now he almost felt as if he was turning just a little apathetic, not reacting to things at all rather than reacting too much, and he wasn't sure that going into the opposite extreme was all that good.

Craig sighed, kicking at a stone in his path. He'd been going into reflections much more often lately, and at all the wrong times. His grades were definitely dropping, and his parents were going to find out at the next progress report. Kyle had tried to help, but his concentration problem was bigger than what they could work around. He'd like to say they weren't working at it as much as they should be, but Kyle was an adamant tutor, so that wasn't an option.

He stopped, looking up at the sky. Pink-tinted clouds were moving slowly over the deepening indigo sky. Something about the way the dying light of the sun was touching them, making them transparent pinkish-orange against deep purple-blue stirred something deep inside him. He stood watching them for a long time, shifting colors as they flowed across the shifting sky behind them, lost in thought.

****

"I can't believe you still have that thing."

A snort accompanied Clyde's voice as Craig pulled himself out of the cave that was his closet. He had had to dig through a few layers of boxes and containers, but he'd found what he'd been looking for finally. A padded black case, just the right size to sling over a shoulder, and a box that was heavier than he'd remembered it being. He carried the two items over to his bed and shoved Clyde aside to make room for them.

"It's not that old…" He answered defensively, although that was exactly what he was thinking. He didn't even know if it would still work or not.

"God, Craig, that thing is like… what, 8 years old? It's ancient!" Clyde laughed, "They probably don't even make tapes for it anymore!"

"Shut up, it's a Hi-8," Craig growled, unzipping the case. "And a Sony. It was top of the line back then."

He pulled out the old camcorder, shooting a glare at the other boy when he caught Clyde rolling his eyes. The camcorder looked good; he eyed it critically, but truth be told, he wasn't sure he knew how the thing worked anymore. Glancing hopefully into the case, he groaned. No instructions either.

"So, what got you thinking of filming stuff again?" Clyde asked, then made a face. "Nothing raunchy, is it?"

"What… what the fuck goes on in your head, Clyde?" Craig looked at him in shock and partial disgust.

"Dude. You know…three guys…" Clyde shrugged, looking slightly uncomfortable. His face brightened suddenly. "Hey, you know, I bet there's some weirdos out there that'll pay good money to see that!"

Craig looked at him for a long, long moment.

"No."

"I wasn't suggesting it, I was just saying," Clyde ended in a grumble, "Don't need to get all scary about it…"

"Come on, let's see if this thing still works," Craig shoved the camcorder back into the case and pulled the strap around his shoulder. Grabbing the box he headed out of his room, hearing the other boy following him out.

"What's it going to be, animals in hats? I don't know if we'll find anyone who wants to dress their pets up around here anymore…" Clyde grinned as Craig flipped him off.

"Shut up." Craig headed down the stairs, leading the way past through the kitchen. "I'll figure it out when I see it."

"Ooo, is that the ar-teest in you talking?" Clyde snickered, but Craig ignored him. Or rather, ignored him on the outer level.

Inside, his mind was firing away. Artist. Was film art? Technically, it was, or it definitely was, depending on how you looked at it. Is it art to capture what's already there, though? Is it art to film something that's just happening? Or is the art in how you capture it, how you make it look when it's replayed?

What is art, anyway? Is sticking rocks in the mud and tossing some glitter on it all art, just because someone says it is? Or is it art only when a majority of people accept it as aesthetically pleasing? Would art still work if it was only viewed as art by one person?

And why did some people think something as stupid and boring as a legal document was art? Did any type of writing that wasn't fiction fit into the category of art? What made writing art, anyways? And why did minimalistic, barely descriptive, meaningless writing make the cut sometimes?

"Hey guys, where are you two headed?" A familiar voice broke through, and Craig snapped out of his thoughts as Clyde responded.

"Somewhere where apparently there will be something to record." Clyde grinned, "Mr. Arteest here will know when we get there."

"Shut up," Craig flipped Clyde off with his free hand, then grinned over at the redhead standing off to the side. "Wanna join us?"

"Sure," Kyle shrugged, and fell into step as they headed on. Clyde started whistling, a little too innocently, and Craig shoved him in the side. Hard.

"Fuck, Craig, I didn't even say anything," The boy complained, rubbing his side and giving Craig a scathing look.

"Just telling your brain to shut up," Craig said, ignoring the look and fixing his hold on the box. Kyle raised his eyebrows at the exchange, grinning slightly.

"Right. So really, do you have any ideas about what you want to do?" He asked, and Craig looked up into the sky for a moment.

"Do you think film is art?" He asked, then frowned and looked at the red head. "No, not film. Filming. Is the actual capturing of moving image art? Or does the art not happen until someone starts editing and putting the pieces together?"

Kyle gave him a blank look at first, glanced over at Clyde for help. The other boy shrugged, just as blank, and Craig could see them both trying to think of an answer.

"Well… you know, if you capture something a certain way, and it's artistic… then, you know, it's the act of capturing it that's art. I guess…" Kyle said haltingly, "It's like, if it looks good and is, well, pleasing to the eye, I guess, then it's art."

"But what if what's pleasing to the eye isn't the way it's captured, but the actual thing that's being captured?" Craig pushed the question further.

"Well, it's like all those videos of parrots and stuff, like, in the Amazon… or something…" Clyde trailed off when Craig turned to look at him, and gave a shrug.

"Yeah, that's a good example," Kyle said, picking up the idea. "You know, like macaws, they're really beautiful birds, right? But if you have a really crappy film maker recording them, you get really crappy movies about them. It doesn't help that they're really nice to look at, you have to have a good eye for catching them right, otherwise it just comes out looking really, really bad."

Craig nodded; it made sense. Or at least he thought it did.

"Right, let's go to Shaky's." He said; he had an idea.

"Awesome! Let's get a-"

"Not for the pizza," He cut Clyde off, and gave him a stern look when the boy began to protest. It didn't faze the other boy, but Craig ignored his grumbling and led the way towards the center of town. Main Street wasn't far away, but considering it cut through the whole town towards the east and west, that wasn't saying much. Still, it didn't take long before they were walking past the convenience store and hardware shop, and reaching the corner where Shaky's Pizza stood.

"So, what, we're going to go look at pizza's sizzling away in the oven or something, right?" Clyde asked, almost hopefully. Craig shook his head, leading past the front doors and towards the back alley.

"…you're not…" Kyle started, then groaned. "Craig…"

"Wait, what?" Clyde looked over at Kyle, then towards Craig. The blue haired boy stayed silent, stopping at the front of the alley to pull the camcorder out of the case.

"He's going to record the… the…" Kyle nodded his head towards the alley, a slight look of disgust on his face.

Craig set the box down on an old milk crate and opened it up to reveal rows of Hi-8 cassettes. He picked out a blank one and popped it into the camcorder.

"The what?" Clyde frowned, looking into the alley. "The garbage?"

"No, dammit," Kyle sighed, "The rats! He's going to record the rats!"

There was a moment of silence.

"No. Fucking. Way. We are not recording rats, Craig." Clyde walked up to him, grabbing him by the shoulder. "They're dirty, Craig! And… and all diseased and stuff. And huge! Shaky's rats are giant! They'll be all over us if we go back there."

"They will not be all over us…" Craig answered back calmly, turning on the camcorder and checking to see how much juice the battery had. Dammit; just fifteen minutes. Of course, batteries lose charge over time, even if they're not being used. "We won't be here long."

"I don't want to be here at all, Token says this guy Jason who works here says they have a special bat they take out with them when they're throwing the trash away. He says Jason says he had to use it a few times too!" Clyde looked down into the alley fearfully.

"I don't know Craig, I mean… even if they're not giants, they can still have some weird diseases and stuff. What if one of them bites you?" Kyle frowned, "All it takes is one rabies-infested rat bite, and you have to go to the hospital and get shots. Damn, all it takes is a scratch, and you can be infected."

"Everything. Is. Going. To. Be. Fine." Craig sighed loudly, and without waiting for any more arguments, he headed down into the alley.

"C…Craig, dude, don't!" Clyde called after him, taking a few steps into the alley. Something moved in the bags by the garbage bins behind the pizza place, and he jumped back. Craig rolled his eyes, looked over at Kyle to see the redhead looking around uneasily.

"You guys are total pansies, you know that?" He shook his head and went on. A scuffling noise rose up from behind the bin, and a few squeaks sounded before the noise faded away. Camera held at ready, he crouched down just a few feet shy of the dumpster. The plastic of one of the bags moved slightly, and he aimed towards it. Eye to the viewfinder, he zoomed in until he could see nothing but the moving plastic. He waited, holding his arm as steady as he could as the plastic danced. A hole appeared suddenly, and poking out of it came a tiny black nose.

Showtime.

****

"I don't understand how… that… could be so… mesmerizing…" Kyle said, shifting slightly at Craig's side. He leaned into the other boy's shoulder, eyes on the television screen before them. Kenny grunted from the other side of Craig, speaking around a spoon of ice cream.

"Not cool." The blonde licked the spoon clean, looked at the blue haired boy. "You're not supposed to be making me like them."

Craig grinned down at the blonde, who was, well, laying upside down on the couch. His head and shoulders were on the ground, but somehow he was still managing to look at the TV with little problem.

"Not trying to make you like them… just trying to make them look different… or something," Craig shrugged, winding one arm around Kyle, and patting Kenny's knee with his free hand.

On the TV a rat was picking its way along the edge of a dumpster, taking each step slowly and steadily. It almost seemed comical as it took a few steps forward, then a step back, then forward again. Another rat climbed onto the edge behind it, following along in the same rhythm, then another. It was a rat dance troupe, they could've been starting a little conga line on that dumpster. Kenny groaned from the floor. Kyle snickered at him, and the blond grumbled something beneath his breath.

Craig sighed softly, slouching down in the couch a little. He didn't know how it had happened, but everyone in Kenny's house had decided to go somewhere at the same time, and they'd managed to snag some time to themselves. All three of them. It was still a little strange to him, as he sat there watching rats curling up underneath a soggy cardboard, to think that all three of them were somehow managing to get along, together. Strange, but good. Wonderful, actually. Pretty fucking awesome.

"I'm gonna get a guinea pig," Craig said suddenly, quietly. He felt Kyle move beside him, saw Kenny glance up at him. "Probably sometime this week."

"That's cool," Kenny commented, taking another spoonful of ice cream and managing to get it into his mouth without dropping it on himself. Talent, for sure.

"You know where you'll be getting it from?" Kyle asked, and Craig nodded.

"There's a breeder in Denver that I heard about from this one message board. He's a good guy, and he's got a lot of good reviews," He shrugged, then grinned. "I… I can't wait, you know?"

"I bet," Kyle laughed softly, "Think of any names yet?"

"Yeah, but you never know until you get them," Craig answered, thinking names over again. It didn't matter; he'd probably end up naming it something totally different than what he was thinking anyways.

"What's it like?" Kenny asked suddenly. Craig paused his thoughts, looked down to find the blonde giving him a curious look.

"What's what like?" He asked, puzzled.

"Having a pet, you know," Kenny shifted on the ground slightly, shifting his focus to his nearly empty bowl of ice cream.

"It's… you know, it's pretty cool…" Craig found himself stumped; was it even possible to explain? "It's work, you have to take care of it… and stuff… but it's cool…"

He looked at Kyle, but the redhead seemed just as puzzled as he was.

"Do they know? You know, that they're pets? Or something…" Kenny's voice kept getting quieter, and he was mixing the melting remains of his ice cream intently.

"Well… I mean, they know who feeds them and plays with them and stuff…" Craig said haltingly. "They know who cares for them…"

Kenny stayed silent, staring into the tilted bowl and looking deeply thoughtful. Craig felt a nudge in his side, turned to find Kyle giving him a meaningful look. He thought he knew what the redhead meant, and he turned to look back at Kenny, grinned.

"You know, you can come help me pick it out, if you want," Craig nudged the blonde in the side with the toe of his shoe. Blue eyes locked on him, glittering.

"Really?" Kenny asked, excited, nearly dropping the bowl on himself. He caught it and straightened it in time, cleared his throat. "I mean, it's totally up to you, like, if you want me to, that's cool."

Kyle leaned his face against Craig's arm, muffling his laughter, and Craig grinned.

"Sure, I'll let you know when we'll be heading out, okay?"

"Yeah, dude," Kenny slid the rest of the way off of the couch and stood up. "I'll go get more ice cream, we better eat this or it'll just get wasted on Kevin…"

"I think you just made his week," Kyle said softly as soon as the blonde was out of hearing range. Craig smiled at him, shrugged.

"Yeah, well, thanks for the hint," He said, and Kyle smiled back. "You wanna come too?"

"No, you two have fun," Kyle sighed, "Besides, I have math sessions for most of this week…"

"Fun," Craig grimaced, was about to continue when his pocket started buzzing. "God dammit, what the hell…"

He pulled his phone out, flipped it open just as Kenny came back with three bowls of towering ice cream. Kyle's eyes widened, but Kenny just smirked and sat down next to Craig.

"Hello?" Craig tried to take his ice cream from the blonde, but he shook his head and held it away from him. "Mom?"

"Craig, honey? Are you busy?" His mother's voice sounded through the speaker.

"Uh, I mean, not that much…" He tried to hide the disappointment, but grimaced all the same. Dammit. Both Kenny and Kyle were giving him questioning looks.

"Craig, could you come home? Your… your father and I would like to talk to you…" There was something in her voice that sent a tiny tendril of ice down his spine. He stood up abruptly, turning to look at Kyle and Kenny.

"Uh…y-yeah, sure mom…" He stuttered a little, "I'll be right back…"

He closed the phone, staring at it warily, as if it might jump out and bite him at any moment. The TV behind him was playing static, it was grating on his nerves; he felt frayed, detached. Something was wrong.

"Craig, what's wrong?" Kyle asked softly, and he looked back at them, saw the concern in both pairs of eyes.

"I… I have to go home," He managed; his voice sounded hollow, his throat felt choked.

"What's wrong?" Kenny asked, still holding a bowl of ice cream in each hand.

Craig swallowed thickly, his throat feeling constricted. Tight.

"Nothing, nothing…" He tucked the phone back into his jeans, "I'll call you guys later. Don't worry…"

He turned before they could say anything more, heading out a little too quickly for everything to be okay. It had to be okay. Everything was fine. Everything was dandy.

Except, it wasn't, was it?

He shuddered, huddled against an imaginary wind, and jogged home.