Hey guys. I know I haven't said anything about this yet, but I don't want to seem ungrateful ('cause I'm not) so thank you for all the reviews. I'm happy that so many people are enjoying what started out as a little half-baked casserole of madness and turned into what you see before you. You guys are awesome. :D
Both Kenny and Butters POV in this chapter. How exciting! I'll refrain from labeling them and just trust that you goodly readers are intelligent enough to tell which is which.
Butters had been acting kind of weird lately. He didn't think Kenny noticed, but he'd somehow come to forget that Kenny noticed everything—it was kind of his thing. Not a great quality when your parents did nothing but fight, but a fantastic quality in a… were he and Butters 'boyfriends'? A month and a half later and Kenny still wasn't really sure.
"Dude, it's Butters—he's weird all the time."
Kenny sighed. Kyle was right—Butters was, by definition, kind of a weird guy—but any clarification on the subject probably just would've made him and Stan shout and cover their 'virgin ears'. Hah. They wished.
"You guys are still fucking, right?"
Kenny's attention snapped entirely to Stan. Apparently the boy was not as squeamish as one would believe. They were in Stan's kitchen, Kenny having crashed another homework session, this time for AP Government or something, where Stan and Kyle had been waiting for Cartman to arrive so they could start reviewing. Both Kyle and Stan looked… well, if not genuinely interested in his sex life, then at least vaguely aware that he may need to talk something out, and since Cartman wasn't there yet…
"See, this is what I don't fucking get," Kenny began, "at first he was all like 'oh, kuh-kuh-Kenny, maybe we should take it slow' and then, like, when we got back to school after winter break he started acting really weird and distant and then, like, a week ago he's just like 'oh yeah, le-le-let's fuck!' Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining about fucking, but… I don't know, I expected him to be one of those guys who was going to want to talk it out before I popped his cherry."
"He's a fucking guy, Kenny," Kyle raised an eyebrow. Like Kenny didn't fucking know.
"Being that I'm the only one who's seen, sucked, and fucked his dick, I'm really the only one who can really be sure of that, aren't I?"
"Hooray, images," Kyle muttered and wrinkled his nose.
"Whatever," Kenny muttered and drummed his fingers on the table, "he's just distant and it's irritating."
"I thought distance was your thing," Stan said.
"Nah," Kenny shook his head and stole a handful of chips out of the bowl between them. "Distance isn't the same as just sleeping with people. Butters and I actually have a thing, you know? I mean, I actually like hanging with him or whatever and I thought he was having a good time too... Whatever, why should I expect anyone wants anything but sex from me? Get what you give, right?" That came out way more bitter than he'd intended.
"Jesus, I know all the Goths graduated or whatever, but that doesn't mean you need to fill in for them," Stan said and tapped his chin thoughtfully. "I don't know… Whenever Wendy was like that it was always because she thought I was being 'uncommunicative'… maybe it's that?"
"He's a fucking guy!" Kyle snapped again.
"Just because he's a guy doesn't mean he's not going to close up if he thinks something's weird," Stan rolled his eyes. "I get pissed when you don't tell me shit, but you're a moody bastard so I learned to take it in stride—maybe Butters is just getting used to you not using your words when you need to."
"Whoa, I'm not a fucking caveman," Kenny jumped to defend himself. "I'm just kinda… kinda stupid."
"Maybe you should talk to him about it," Stan shrugged. "I mean, obviously no good is coming of you just getting pissed about it."
"I'm not pissed," Kenny muttered. "It's just… what do I have to do to get someone to be my friend?"
"As opposed to the goons you have now," Kyle snorted. Kenny flipped him off.
"You don't know what it's like," he said. "You two have been on each other since we were kids, always with someone to talk to and hang out with… I mean, you guy are, like, a duo, and normally I don't mind being alone, but being with Butters is nice, you know?"
"Nah, Kyle's pretty annoying most of the time," Stan shrugged. Kyle smacked him on the arm.
"Look," Kyle began, "if you love Butters so much—"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Kenny exclaimed. "Who said anything about love? Did you hear me say 'love'?"
"Didn't hear you say love," Stan confirmed. "But," he continued, "you're sure making it sound like that's what you mean."
"Well, it's not," Kenny snapped and folded his arms. That wasn't what he meant… was it?
"Kenny, it's okay if you love Butters," Kyle said. "It's not a big deal. If he makes you happy—"
"He does, but not because I… because I love him or anything," Kenny faltered. Fuck, he wasn't even convincing himself at this point. Christ, what the fuck was love anyway? Just some bullshit reason people used so they could fuck without feeling bad about themselves. Kenny McCormick couldn't feel bad about fucking anyone even if he tried.
"Love isn't necessarily romantic, dude," Stan shrugged. "You could just love him in a friend sense."
"Isn't fucking someone you love as a friend kind of a romance death trap?" Kenny asked.
"Man, where do you get this shit?" Kyle laughed. Kenny shrugged.
"I watched When Harry Met Sally with—"
"Fag."
"Fuck you both," Kenny scowled and threw a few chips their way. "I watched it with Karen because it's one of her favorite movies and my asshole parents were fighting again."
"Whatever," Stan conceded and threw his hands up. "You know how you feel about Butters, dude, whether you lie to us or not."
"When did you two realize you were in love?" Kenny asked, face dead serious. Kyle narrowed his eyes and leaned against the table.
"Don't take out your confusion on us," he said very coolly. "The nature of our relationship is none of your business."
"The fucking 'nature of your relationship', are you kidding me with that?" Kenny laughed. "Jesus, how long have you two been fucking?" Stan just rolled his eyes, fed up to high hell with the whole thing.
"Since June, now will you please just get the fuck off of our backs?"
Kenny, for once, was stunned into silence. They were... ugh, they were actually fucking? It was one thing to joke about it, but quite another to actually... Kenny couldn't open his mouth for fear of spewing all over their faces. Stan took the opportunity to keep on talking.
"Same rules apply: no telling Cartman or anyone else, no asking, and sharing will be done on a need-basis, okay?"
Kenny nodded. Ew.
"Good," Stan beamed. "Now, go fuck off to Butters before Cartman comes in here and tries to exorcise our demons."
"Or, y'know, lock us in a gas chamber," Kyle shrugged and put a hand on the back of Stan's neck. He looked at Kenny and raised a challenging eyebrow. Kenny made no motion to challenge back but was still bombarded with an eyeful of Stan and Kyle sucking face. No matter how many times Kenny made fun of it, it would never be okay.
"All right, all right, I'm going!" Kenny cried as he pulled his hood up and made for the door.
"Don't forget to tell Butters you love him, sug'!" Stan called after him in what had to have been the most horrible impersonation of a Southern Belle to date.
"And be sure to write, darlin'—you know how we worry!"
Strike that. Kyle's was way worse.
Kenny left the Marsh household, behind him a barrage of laughter and the distinct feeling of… love, he supposed. He'd always envied what Kyle and Stan had, even when they were kids. Even when Kenny died for a few days, or when Cartman was waging war on some group of unsuspecting people, they still had each other. Kenny would often come back to school when they were younger to just the two of them sitting on a bench outside school, heads bowed together as they played on a game console or read comics or some shit. He remembered how happy they always looked together, and how sad he always felt when they barely welcomed him back.
He remembered Butters greeting him every day, rain or shine, like he was the happiest person in the world, like he was happy exclusively to see Kenny. The days he came back from being dead, those were when he saw Butters' biggest smile—
Oh, shit.
Did Butters remember that he died? Fuck, he always had, hadn't he? Kenny hadn't died in months, probably since around August, and when he came back a few days later, Butters had looked nothing short of relieved. And maybe he didn't know why he was relieved, or why he was so happy to see Kenny again when he finally did, but, honestly, it was enough for Kenny. Even if it was all in his mind, it was enough. He fished his phone out of his pocket and dialed (fuck, he had the goddamned number memorized) Butters.
"Hello?"
"Hey, dude, what're you doing?" He loved Butters.
"Playing cribbage," came Butters' deadpan response. Judging by the sarcasm, cribbage probably wasn't something anyone played ever. "I'm reading for AP Lit. What're you doing?"
"I just came from Stan's house… can I come over?" He was butt-fuckingly in love with Butters.
"My parents are here," Butters' voice trailed off. "Tonight?"
"I just wanted to see you," Kenny said and leaned against a lamp post, not really in the mood to care that that was without a doubt the gayest thing he'd said all day. He heard Butters sigh on the other end, and even if it meant that he was hesitating it was still the most beautiful sound in the world because it was Butters and Kenny loved Butters. He couldn't stop thinking it. It was like a disease.
"Yeah, I s'pose you could," Butters said. Kenny could see him fighting a smile. "Wanna stay for dinner?"
"Yeah," Kenny felt his own smile practically dominate his face. "Yeah, I'd like that."
"So, I kind of wanted to talk to you."
Butters looked up from his AP Lit book with the utmost caution and turned to face Kenny with nothing but absolute confusion on his face. Kenny gulped. How bad would it be if he just said something completely inane and trivial?
"Found out that Kyle and Stan are actually fucking," he tested. Butters just snorted.
"Surprise, surprise," he grinned and sat beside Kenny on his bed. They'd finished dinner hours ago, brains now saturated with meaningless shit from the inane television shows they'd watched afterward. Butters' parents had gone to bed only recently, but the younger boy's intentions were clear, even if in their primordial stages of execution.
"You can't tell anyone," Kenny clarified. Obviously, telling Butters didn't count as telling anyone. Butters was his… fuck, what were they?
"Yeah, who am I gonna tell?" Butters gave a laugh. "Wendy'll love that."
Kenny gave a smile and pulled Butters into a short, soft kiss. He tasted like Butters—the best part of kissing Butters was definitely tasting him on your lips a while after the fact—and it drove Kenny almost to the point of certifiable insanity.
Almost.
"Would, uh," Kenny coughed. "Would it be weird to… fuck it. You know you're my best friend, right?"
"I-I am?" Butters squeaked and mashed his knuckles together. He was a lot further from Kenny than he'd been just a second ago… Kenny pushed the thought aside and sat cross-legged on Butters' bedspread, facing the timid boy with an earnest look on his face.
"Yeah, you're my best friend," he said with a smile. Why was this suddenly like approaching a skittish deer? "And, I mean, if you have something to tell me, or something you want to… y'know, talk about… you can. with me."
"Kenny, are you okay?" Butters asked. Kenny sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He was smiling, but he couldn't really say he was amused. Smiling was just always better than the alternative, he found.
"I don't know," he said softly. "You're being weird and, like, distant, I guess and if there's something wrong you can talk to me if you need to."
"I don't need to talk," Butters said very firmly, his arms folded and jaw clenched. Kenny rolled his eyes.
"Yeah, you do," he shot back. "Look, something's obviously wrong and if you tell me what it is, I can help you fix it."
"Well, it's not something that's fi-fixable so, just leave it," Butters stood and paced the room. He was frustrated, at war with himself—Kenny recognized the look. He did the same thing whenever he'd gone 'Professor Chaos' when they were kids: hands in his hair, face all scrunched up, shoulders all hunched like he was trying to get away from the bad voices in his head. Kenny stood and grabbed him, grabbed his wrists and held him steady for a moment. Fuck, he was going to do it. He was going to do it because he was a psychotic madman who was obviously short a significant portion of good sense.
"Butters, I lo—"
"Ah-da-da!" Butters cut him off, eyes still not open as he redoubled his efforts to escape. Kenny frowned. Curious.
"Butters, I lov—"
"Kenny, just don't," Butters pleaded and wrenched his arms out of Kenny's grip. Kenny just rolled his eyes and said it, said "I love you" over a steady stream of "la-la-la-la-la"s while Butters danced around the room with his fingers in his ears. What the fuck was it with only children, man? Kenny crossed his arms and waited for the episode to stop. He was pretty sure that this wasn't how typical 'I love you' scenes played out, but try getting anything typical in South Park and see how that works out for you.
"Are you done?" Kenny deadpanned and raised an eyebrow. Thank God for that one day in fifth grade when Kyle had disclosed the art of the judgmental eyebrow, because, seriously, it was working wonders. Butters had stopped at the first sight of it and immediately had resorted to collapsing into his desk chair, weary and depressed-looking. Was that really what Kenny's love wrought? Depression? Kenny bit his lip and kneeled before the younger boy, hands moving right away to rest on Butters' thighs. For once, the touch wasn't meant to escalate into anything, just to provide comfort, to let Butters know that he was there because his goddamned eyes were shut like he was wishing he'd never let Kenny come over to begin with. Kenny sighed.
"I love you," he said, softer this time. Butters groaned.
"Kenny—"
"Dude, why's that difficult for you to hear?"Kenny asked through a frown. He looked up to see Butters staring back down at him. There was something foreign in his eyes that Kenny couldn't really identify.
"I-it's not difficult for me to hear," Butters replied half-heartedly. His face was at such an angle that made him look about ten years old again. Kenny bit at his lip and lost the frown-he didn't need Butters thinking he was angry with him, but God, this was frustrating.
"Well then shouldn't you be happy?" Kenny gave a laugh, one merely used to diffuse the tension in the rest of his body. "Someone loving you is still a good thing, right? I mean, I'm not saying it to fuck with you, if that's what you're thinking."
"I'm not," Butters sighed and shook his head. "It's just… ho-how am I supposed to leave i-if you—if you—"
"If I love you?" Kenny finished. Butters nodded and Kenny had no choice but to laugh.
"Just stop thinking about it," he said. "Just let it be, you know? Whatever happens happens and we can't—"
"Look, can you just… go?" Butters asked, his voice thin and scratchy. He was going to start crying. He was going to cry because he didn't want Kenny to love him? Kenny wasn't the brightest, but he wasn't stupid either, and that? That didn't seem right.
"Butters…" he gave one last plea, because oddly enough he wanted to be there while Butters cried, but the younger boy just shook his head.
"I'll text you later, okay?"
"Yeah, sure," Kenny's voice rasped. Fuck, he wasn't going to cry too, was he? McCormicks didn't cry… they drank. As Kenny left the Stotch house, he thought very vaguely of calling Craig, because Craig had good weed and always had liquor and his parents didn't care if he spent all night at Stark's Pond drinking and smoking until the break of dawn.
But no. Kenny just walked back to his house, cold February air nipping unpleasantly at his exposed face. He pulled his hood up and tied its strings tight, but his cheeks still felt sickeningly cold.
He should've known better.
"He said that?"
Butters nodded and inhaled deeply. He didn't want to open his eyes, because opening his eyes meant seeing Bebe's and Wendy's faces all shocked and covered in green stuff and right now he just wanted to beat his head against a sidewalk until his stupidity just leaked out and let him be for the rest of his life. But, being that that would've resulted in phenomenal brain damage, Butters settled on getting help from girls instead.
"When did this happen again?" Bebe asked.
"Friday afternoon," Butters replied.
"And it's Sun—"
"I know it's Sunday, Bebe," Butters whined and rubbed at his eyes. This had been a bad idea. Bebe and Wendy, considering their feelings on the subject, had been far from Butters' first choice when he decided he needed to tell someone about what had happened. Man, why couldn't he talk to someone else about this? Come to think of it, who else would he talk to about this? Kenny. Because he was Kenny's best friend and—son of a bitch—Kenny was his. Oh, Butters was in trouble.
"Have you called him?" Wendy asked.
Butters shook his head. What would he say?
"Conversations don't work if you don't say your part out loud."
"Wendy, leave him alone," Bebe chided. "Butters, do you… do you love him back?"
"That's not my problem," Butters sighed. He loved Kenny McCormick—he knew that. That's what'd started this whole goddamned mess. Butters was going to leave and start his life in college in a few months, and love meant that leaving Kenny behind was going to be a bitch of a difficult thing to do. Butters opened his eyes and found that both girls were looking at him with the most genuine concern he'd seen on them in months.
"N-now, I'm confused," Butters frowned. "Weren't you gals against this whole thing? Shouldn't you be ha-happy that I'm upset?"
"Butters, don't be stupid," Wendy rolled her eyes. "You're our friend and no matter what we'll always get upset when you're upset. Sweetheart, we love you."
"Almost as much as Kenny," Bebe nodded. Wendy gave a laugh and sipped out of a large mug. The jibe aside, Butters was happy that they were in high spirits again. Wendy had been admitted early into Cornell, so she was as happy as Butters had ever seen her, and Bebe was especially happy now that she was dating Token. Butters laughed to himself. Probably 'cause his dick is huge.
"Butters!"
"Aw, crap, di-did I say that out loud?"
Bebe smiled and drummed her fingers on the side of another large mug. Butters just pursed his lips and kept a firm hold on his own mug. Emotional? Yes. Certifiably insane? Absolutely. But they were actually trying to help, and they'd made him hot cocoa, so…
"He says I'm over-thinking it."
"You probably are," Bebe shrugged. Wendy, meanwhile, was shaking her head.
"No such thing," she said. "Honey, you're right to think ahead."
"You're both way too cerebral," Bebe sighed. "Virgo and Gemini… such a volatile combination, you two. You just analyze the shit out of everything until you've destroyed any chance at happiness. I'm a Libra—I just roll with it."
"Yeah?" Wendy laughed. "What about Kenny?"
"Scorpio," Bebe laughed. "Poor Butters is fucked."
"Wait," Butters frowned, the cogs in his brain going at a rapid pace now. "I always thought he was older than me." Bebe and Wendy just stared at him.
"Honey, he's been eighteen since October," said Bebe. "You didn't know that?"
"He never said anything," Butters muttered. Why wouldn't Kenny have told him about his birthday? More importantly, why hadn't Butters known before? Jesus, not only was he a shitty significant other, but a shitty friend too. That was just fucking fantastic.
"I don't know," Bebe shrugged. "He was really weird around then… just before Halloween. He just gets weird sometimes, as I'm sure you've observed."
Butters just nodded. He had to talk to Kenny.
"Uh, tha-thanks for talking to me, girls," he said as he stood. "I think I'll give him a call."
He kissed them both on top of their heads—the green guck was still on their faces and it didn't look very edible or appetizing. He all but ran out to his car and sped all the way over to Kenny's house. The few times he'd bothered to drive into Kenny's neighborhood he always had the overwhelming fear that someone was going to steal his hubcaps or have sex in his back seat.
No one said anxiety was rational.
He pulled up in front of Kenny's house and really debated on calling him first, but that ran the risk of Kenny saying he wasn't home or lying or… something. Decidedly, Butters got out of the car and walked up to the front door. Kenny's blinds were down and there was no reason to give him a heart attack by sneaking in through his window. With a deep breath he knocked semi-confidently on the door. He waited for a few moments, knocked again, and when there came no motion to answer his heart sank. He was just about to turn back to his car when the door opened, a slim girl in an oversized orange hoodie answered.
"Uh, he-hey, Karen," Butters gave a smile. He'd met the girl a few times and by now he figured she'd be able to recognize him. "Is Kenny here?"
Karen raised one perfectly plucked eyebrow and continued smakcing her gum like a cow chewing its cud. Her eyes were that same piercing, volatile blue that Kenny's were.
"Depends," she finally said. "Are you the douchebag who's got my brother watching Meet Me in-goddamnedfucking-St. Louis on repeat?" Butters rolled his eyes.
"Can I please come in?" he begged. "I re-really need to talk to him."
Karen gave him a final once over before stepping aside and allowing Butters to run to Kenny's room. Kenny was curled up in a ball on his bed amidst piles of dirty clothes, old pop-tart wrappers, and what appeared to be loose sketches. Whether or not he was sleeping remained to be seen, so when he didn't respond to Butters clearing his throat, Butters figured he'd just tip-toe over and wake him gently.
"Stay right there."
Okay, so not asleep. Kenny rolled over and sat on the edge of his bed, greasy hair framing his paled face. He was scruffy and dirty and downtrodden and fuck, Butters was responsible for all of it… Trust him to mess up something this badly without even trying.
"I'm sorry," he said softly.
"So am I," Kenny replied, his voice hollow. Butters bit his lip. He had to start the conversation somehow, but there was way too much swimming in his head right at that moment even to consider finding a good opening. Instead he looked down at his feet and cleared his throat once more.
"I-I didn't know you were eighteen," he offered, looking up with a harmless smile. Kenny rolled his eyes and grabbed a joint off of his desk. Butters barely flinched when he lit up.
"Please tell me you reported me for statutory rape."
Butters may have flinched at that.
"Kenny, I've been a jerk," he admitted. "And if you can't forgive me, I'll understand." Kenny just laughed and took a long drag off the joint. He offered to Butters, and looked slightly surprised when Butters accepted it gratefully and took almost as deep a drag as he had.
"You've done that before?"
Butters nodded and exhaled.
"Once, with you," he said, "once with Wendy and Bebe before we went to see New Moon."
"Wendy's smoked pot?" Kenny asked, voice high and thin with disbelief. "How's that gonna look on her political record? Did she inhale?"
"Oh yeah," Butters nodded and sat beside Kenny. He took another drag and handed it back to the older boy.
"Man, you know you're gonna be high as shit if you help me finish this, right?" Kenny grinned. Butters nodded.
"Which is why I'll say what I wanted to say now," he said. "But first: why didn't I know you were eighteen?"
"Because I never really tell people about my birthday anymore," Kenny shrugged. "Fucking pointless, you know? Not a kid anymore, and no one'd celebrate it with me except Stan and Kyle… and, well, you now, obviously."
"Even before this I would've," Butters frowned and plucked the joint from Kenny's fingers.
"I know," Kenny sighed, like it was something he was struggling to accept. "Anyway, this year Kevin left right around my birthday and shit was really bad here, so it really kinda got overshadowed. Whatever, doesn't matter anymore. You come here for anything else?"
"Yeah," Butters coughed and all but pushed the joint back into Kenny's hand. "Yeah. You're my best friend too."
"I figured," Kenny shrugged.
"And you drive me insane."
"Also kinda figured."
"And I don't mean to over-think everything, but I do and it can drive you insane if you want but it's not going anywhere so I think you're just gonna have to suck it up and love me for it because I deal with your annoying shit too and I don't love you any less for it."
"You're so fucking high," Kenny chuckled and took another drag.
"I am not!" Butters exclaimed. Except, yeah, he kind of was getting there. His face felt funny and he had the overwhelming urge to laugh… or curl into Kenny's body heat, because it was cold in that house and if he just had something to hold onto and stroke maybe life wouldn't be so bad… Why was Kenny laughing? Butters watched Kenny put out the joint and set it on his desk, presumably for later. Butters didn't know anything except that he couldn't stop smiling.
"I've been thinking about it and I'm pretty sure I know what your deal is," Kenny nodded. He turned to Butters and grabbed his hands. "You've got commitment issues."
"Yeah, well you're clingy, and I still love you," Butters shot back half-heartedly as he ran his fingertips over Kenny's rough hands. "I love you, by the way."
"I know that," Kenny grinned. "On both counts. Still, we're not talking about me. Your parents' relationship is fucked and it's pretty much just ruined you for love. You think that it's either a) not real, or b) unattainable for regular people, so impossible for you because you're gay and you still have hang ups about being gay, so don't fucking lie."
"Your parents never held you when you were a kid and now you glom onto anyone who's willing to give you affection outside of bed," Butters countered and raised his eyebrows in challenge. Kenny snorted, because Butters was the most unthreatening person when he was high… maybe it had something to do with the fact that Butters couldn't stop touching him to save his life. Whatever, he liked the way Kenny felt.
"Your eyes are close together," Kenny said softly.
"Oh, yeah?" Butters laughed. "You... you've got a big nose."
"You've got dimples on your ass."
"You've go—I do?"
Kenny nodded and ran his hands through Butters' hair. How—how did that feel so amazingly good?
"And then you've got the ones right above, just at the base of your spine?" he breathed hot into Butters' ear. "The ones my thumbs fit into perfectly."
Well, that just made no sense. How would he know if his thumbs fit in anywhere on his…
"Oh," Butters realized in a hushed tone, "like when we're fucking?"
Kenny nodded and pulled Butters into a kiss.
"Wanna finish talking later?"
"Are you hard too?"
Kenny laughed softly.
"Yeah, Butters."
"Can we fuck?" Butters asked, like there was a possibility of Kenny saying 'no'.
"Thought we were talking," Kenny teased lightly. Butters' eyes went big-shit, they were bright fucking red-as he shook his head. He hopped up from the bed and went to lock Kenny's door, returning with a clumsy half-walk, half-stumble as he pulled off his shoes. When he finally fell onto the bed, Kenny brought him into a hazy kiss.
"You think it's bad that we can't have a serious conversation without being high?" Butters wondered aloud, blatantly disregarding all the times they'd conversed while sober. Kenny just kept on kissing him, on his neck, on his jaw, on every bit of exposed skin that he could see.
"Wait," Butters whispered. "You never told me if you forgive me."
Kenny's only answer was a kiss—soft, passionate, and totally meant to shut Butters up so they could carry on with what they'd started.
They could finish talking later.
