A/N: has been giving me some troubles lately, so I haven't been able to post new stories or chapters at some times, and It's not e-mailing me saying I've gotten reviews or that my fics have been updated. Please be patient with me; I'm doing the best I can right now. Also, sorry again for taking so long to update. I just need to listen to an hour or so of Nightmare to become inspired to write a decent chapter. This one's longer! We're getting closer to the end, too! Enjoy.

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Torturingly slow minutes passed as the class came to an end and Kenny and Stan made their way to the latter's house. Millions of thoughts flitted through Kenny's mind; thoughts of what would happen at Stan's house, thoughts of other people, thoughts of how his friends would take it, thoughts of how his parents would feel…

Ugh. My parents. Kenny closed his eyes, picturing his drunken father throwing a beer bottle at the wall Kenny would surely be pushed back against. Then his mom would come in and bitch out, "What the fuck are you two doing in here?" In her annoyingly obnoxious accent. His dad would slur that Kenny has a boyfriend and is gay, his mom would bitch some more, and Kenny would slink away, or somehow find another beer bottle halfway into his skull and die. More often than not that actually did happen, and his parents didn't even care. He used to wonder if his existence was meaningless and if he should just run away, leaving his parents with one less burden. They would have more money, not having to send him to school and buy him clothes and more food…

Stan unlocked the door and the two boys stepped in. Stan called out: "Mom! I'm home! Kenny's here too…" but he fell silent. "That's weird… the TV isn't on…" He took his shoes off and looked around the house. "Ah! Mom left a note…" he said, picking it up off the kitchen table and scanning it. "Oh, so they're out with Shelley… wonder why." As if he really cared. "Hey!" he began, poking Kenny. "Let's steal the cookies from the jar!"

"Your mom still puts cookies in the jar and forbids you to eat them?" Kenny asked, amazed. "Doesn't she know you're older now?"

Stan laughed. "Yeah, I made her keep doing that. It's just too much fun taking them when she's not looking."

"You and your sweet tooth," Kenny muttered. He remembered a year ago he'd caught Stan lugging a bag up to his room. When Kenny had taken the bag to see what Stan was hiding, Kenny was surprised to find it filled with sweets. Chocolates, candies, cookies, cakes… even a few sugar packets. "You're going to get diabetes," Kenny said. Stan had merely laughed it off then. "So what?" he countered. "You die almost every day… maybe I'll come back, too!"

How adorable.

Stan grabbed two cookies out of the jar, one for each of them. "Here you go, baby," Stan said, handing the cookie to Kenny. "Thanks," he said, blushing when Stan called him "Baby."

"Come on!" Stan said. "Let's go watch some TV or something." The two of them ran into the other room, both diving simultaneously for the couch. Stan landed on his back, Kenny on top of him. "This is awkward…" Kenny said, blushing even more, imagining what would happen if someone saw them. Stan merely smiled his goofy smile and gave Kenny a quick peck on the lips. "If you don't like it, get off me!"

"No way, you get off the couch first!" Kenny said. Stan shoved him off quickly, sitting up as he did so. "If you say so," he said, hopping off the sofa now and landing on the floor. He sat there and tugged on Kenny's arm. "Wanna come with me?"

"No. I'm staying on this nice soft couch you so kindly forfeited to me." Not satisfied with this answer, Stan pulled Kenny off the couch and next to him, locking their lips passionately. Kenny kissed him back with equal force, moving his lips charismatically. When they stopped, Stan was panting for breath. "Kenny… you kiss really well," he said. Kenny smiled. "I guess so. Who'd a thunk it? A poor kid like me can kiss like that!"

"Hey, I didn't mean it like that!" Stan laughed, punching Kenny in the arm playfully.

"I know. You're not so bad yourself, Stan."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah." Kenny smiled, pulling his hood down a bit. His hair just barely came over his eyebrows, so he brushed it aside before it went any further. "Come on. Wanna try again?" Before Stan had time to answer, Kenny kissed him passionately once more, probing Stan's mouth with his tongue. Stan, not to be outdone, forced Kenny's tongue out of his mouth and used his own to return Kenny's favour. Taking a quick breath, Kenny whispered, "You taste like sugar, Stan."

The two progressed to continue making for another half an hour, oblivious to the world around them.

They never heard the knock at the door.

Tiring of their make-out session, the two returned to the couch, breathless and exhausted, to watch TV. Stan, though he was the heavier of the two, sat on Kenny's lap. Kenny rested his head on Stan's shoulder, being almost too tall to do so (Needless to say, Kenny was taller.); hands somehow snaked under Stan's shirt and patting his soft tummy. This relationship is coming along fast…he thought. I like it.

Just then the phone rang, but Stan was too lazy to pick it up. He let it ring, until the answering machine came on. "Hello, you've reached the Marsh residence. We're not in right now; please leave a message." Stan giggled at his dad saying something so formal. It seemed so out of character. The tone went and a familiar voice came on the line. "Hey, Stan," it began. "It's Kyle… I need to talk to you about something. Call me back as soon as you can, okay?" The sound of someone hanging up.

"Kyle? Wonder what he wants," Stan said, shrugging it off and going back to watch Terrance and Phillip with Kenny.