A/N: Sorry it has taken such a long time to update! I have been really busy lately, I do hope you enjoy this chapter. I would like to have 4 comments before posting part 2 of this chapter!

Part 1:

Butters arrived a little after Clyde and Timmy, The amount of people began to torrent right when eight o'clock rolled around. Some kids had sworn to their parent's they were going to a study party, while still others claimed to be spending the night at a friend's place. It was the classic form of the south park high school class.

As usual, Butters was sporting just as many bruises and bandages as Kenny was. He was wearing a baggy blue sweater that was stretched wide around the collar, so much so that it slipped down off both shoulders, showing off the two matching bruises that purpled the sides of his collar bone. Kenny could see that he had used some of Marjorine's make-up to try and cover them up, it worked for the most part, but Kenny had already known they were there.

Kenny was careful not to give too much attention. He had managed, up to this point, to hide his relationship with Marjorine, he wasn't going to blow that now. He did his best not to burn a hole in Butter's head with his eyes, waiting for some glimpse of Marjorine. He figured his secret sweet heart would most likely not show up tonight, so long as there was no perceived threat, and the only threat around here was Eric Cartman, and it seemed pretty obvious to McCormick that Eric had other focuses for his mischief tonight.

"Hi fella's!" Butters cried, bouncing his way into the room. It was a miracle he had managed to get out. He looked fairly nervous, he probably was out under the pretenses of studying. When the bubbly blond dropped his book back down beside the couch Kenny's suspicions were confirmed.

"You've got to be shitting me, Butters…is that you're fucking book bag?" Tolken shook his head in disbelief. A few others laughed as well. Butters just frowned, feeling a bit dejected, he pressed a hand to the back of his neck, cheeks flushing pink.

"Well, uh, yeah Tolken, I figured I could do some homework while I'm here so I can show my parent's when I get back."

"Nope. No way, Butters. I'm confiscating this." Craig said, rounded the beer pong table and snatched up Butter's bag. Tolken grabbed butter by the shoulders as he tried to reach for it, protesting the sudden change in his plans. Craig shoved it into the closet and brushed his hands together as if having handled something dirty.

"But-but-but!"

Even at his protests Butter's was swallowed up by the arms of his friends, drawn into the swell of excitement as the music began a steady beat throughout the house. Everyone was busying themselves with something. The first game of beer pong was already well into it's second half. Tolken and Craig was creaming the very fucked up Tweak and Timmy to the point of embarrassment.

"I call next game." Kenny barked, raising up his glass, just as the doorbell rang. He would soon forget he even suggested playing beer pong.

"Please tell me that ladies are here….YES, the ladies are here," Tolken cheered, peering out the window with a broad grin. One of the girls waved and him and he waved back, giving a soft whistle, "and they look fiiine."

A gaggle of girls lead by the illustrious Bebe waltzed into the room in a cloud of squeals and giggles. Each one was done up like a Christmas present. Their lips were painted in all shades from deep crimson to soft blushing pink, their lashes were curled and necks soaked in silver baubles. They looked good, and they knew it. The party instantaneously became all about them.

Bebe's legs looks as if they had been dipped in milk. Her smart looking silk stockings seemed to drip over her firm shapely calves. They ran up about mid-thigh and then left a small stretch of flesh exposed before the frills of her pink skirt overtook it. Her hair was full and sleek, big golden curls that fell down about her slim shoulders. Kenny couldn't help but be distracted by all the long spidery spindles as they trotted inside, all perched on high heels as shiny and black as beetles.

Bebe immediately slid towards Kenny, her long dark lashes fluttering against the tops of her high cheekbones. She was smiling and that made Kenny smile in return, she was just so damn pretty with those bright green eyes all lined in black.

"Hey Ken," she said, reaching out a delicate hand and brushing perfectly manicured nails across his black shirt, "Why do you still have your jacket on, why don't you take it off and stay awhile." She flipped her bangs from her eyes and then aided him as he obediently shed his orange second skin.

"Hey Bebe, you look nice." He admitted, letting his eyes roam her.

"Oh thanks! You look good too, except this." She reached up and touched the band aid under his eye.

"Well thanks, I guess." He scoffed.

Eric watched as Kenny's watchful eye was finally distracted away from him. It was about time, he had things he needed to attend to. He had been sipping on a cup of tonic water for the last fifteen minutes, trying to look as if he were drinking just like everyone else. He put down his empty cup and stood up off the couch and began to make his way over to Tweak.

"Hey Eric," Red purred as she slipped in front of him, blocking his path to his goal. She was a whole foot or more shorter than he was, and about three times as small. She smiled wryly and clasped her hands together behind her back, "why don't you make me a drink?" she asked, her voice peeling out in a sultry purr.

"No." Eric said simply, pushing passed her. He had more important things to do than bother with her. Red gave a disbelieving gasp and pressed her hands to her hips as she watched him pass her.

"What a jerk." She scoffed, stomping over towards the beer pong table.

Tweak was sitting at the Kitchen, rolling a joint. A baggy of weed laid beside him on the counter with its contents spilled out around his nimbly working fingers. Eric had to wonder how he managed to work the rolling paper as if surgically trained. He was fast to, and though his hands shook most of the time on a regular basis, they did not shake while he folded the inch and a half over itself.

"Hey there Tweak." Cartman said, his voice dripping honey. He pushed splayed fingers through his brown hair and then sunk his elbows down to the surface in front of Tweak. He grinned, trying to catch his attention.

"Gah! Jesus! Don't-don't startle me like that!" Tweak jolted backwards, fumbling with the joint and nearly tipping his stool over backwards. Eric used to startle Tweak on purpose all the time, but with every attempt being success the novelty leaked out of it fairly quickly.

"Sorry. Hey, Tweak," Eric smiled his most winning, persuasive smile, "you have any coke left?" Tweak looked at him and raised a brow.

"Uh, well I have about a line left, I was going to give it to Craig." Tweak pulled back his lips and pulled down the corners as if to say "tough luck". Eric was not a beginner negotiator. He dipped his fingers into his jean pocket and pulled out his wallet, eyeing the bills.

"Or you could sell it to me, along with whatever else you got." Cartman licked his thumb before thumbing through the row of twenties.

"Shiiit, Eric, can you afford that? I've got," Tweak emptied out his pocket in a hurry and spread his hand over the contents, "hmm, that looks like two hits of ecstasy, a dime of coke, and the rest of this weed, which is about a dime also. Oh yeah and this one hit of acid."

"how about seventy- five bucks."

"Deal." The exchange was smooth and when it was complete tweak ran his tongue along the length of his last joint before pulling out a lighter, "good doing business with you, Eric." He said, grinning. Eric caught his shoulder before he could leave the kitchen, however.

"Tweak, have you sold to anyone else at the party yet?"

"uh, no, haven't had a chance to, and you just bought everything I have. I figured I would have a nicer stash for this party but, well, things are dry on the circuit lately."

"So, then Craig doesn't have anything else either?"

"Uh, no…like I said, things have been dry."

Eric grinned and removed his hand from Tweak's shoulder. SO… he was the only one here with anything more illegal than alcohol. Just as he had planned it. He looked down at his handful of drugs and his smile grew more devious than ever. Things were working out exactly as he had planned them.

Stan noticed that there was a bit of a skip in Wendy's step. He could tell because their arms were locked together, her idea. It was far too cold, in Stan's opinion, to be walking but Wendy was one of those health conscious people and often would choose these sorts of routs to maintain her figure. He couldn't disagree that it did keep her looking fit.

For the party, Wendy had bought a new outfit, she and Bebe had gone out together shopping and both had spent more money than they had intended. She wore a tight fitting white sweater with a tailored purple skit all done up in ruffles. Her shoes were simple three inch heels, nothing as dramatic as the baby-doll-lolita style that Bebe liked to pull off. Still, none the less she looks beautiful.

Stan was dressed simply, he hadn't gone out and bought anything new, nor had he spent much time picking his outfit. He was wearing a fitted red T-shirt that displayed a twisting black design that ran the length of both shoulders and spilled down the back into an open mouthed skull. He had brushed his hair and picked out his nicest belt, simple black with studs. He had chosen to pair it with a pair of extra dark wash jeans, wore in around the knees a bit but overall wearable, and maybe even fashionable.

The difference in the appearance of the two went unnoticed by Wendy, but Stan could see it plane as noses. Together as a couple they both looked lost, they looked mismatched and awkward. He of course, would say nothing about this, but instead went on listening to the droll of Wendy's voice as she talked about something he really wasn't interested in.

"Wendy! Stan! Oh, Stan you cleaned up nice didn't you, come on in the rest of the Basketball Team is already here!" Bebe chimed, being the first one to the door and the first one to greet. At every party Bebe made sure that she was the honorary and unofficial hostess. Unwarranted self-importance if you asked Stan.

"Hey Bebe!" Wendy said, excitedly, plastering on her party smile, something that wouldn't leave her face until she got home and could unhinge it. Stan didn't even bother, his smile was mediocre at best, obviously forced. It did amaze him at how at ease Wendy seemed. She bopped into the social scene with ease, weaving her hips to the music and nodding her head as she dragged him in towards the rest of the group by his fingers.

Immediately Stan's eyes honed onto Kyle. The Jewish boy's back was to him, he hadn't noticed him come in. He was in mid laugh, talking to Kenny, both with a drink in their hands. Kenny had a hand on the red head's shoulder and was rubbing it gently. That should not have bothered Stan, but it did.

Maybe it was because of how sleek Kyle was dressed, or maybe it was the way he had styled his hair, but Stan couldn't stop staring at him. He couldn't remember Kyle ever looking better. He seemed to glow beneath the artificial lights and his laugh seemed to piece through the rest of the noise and float directly to Stan's ears. He loved it when Kyle laughed, it was always so genuine. Kyle was one of those few genuine people in the world. When he was sad, he cried. When he was happy, he laughed, and there was no mincing of those emotions. Stan wished he could be like that.

"He Kyle." The redhead knew that voice anywhere. It was strong, and it had that twinge of darkness that Kyle had come to truly adore over the many years of their long and turbulent friendship. He turned, and bright green eyes found the blustery blues of his 'sometimes super best friend'. The best friend that he had, less than an hour ago, discovered had the same feelings he did. How does one segway into that conversation?

"Oh h-hi, Stan, nice shirt," …you look nice. Of all the poetic things he could have said he said 'nice shirt'. Kyle felt like kicking himself. As he was thinking about all the lovely, sexy things he could have said to try and see a spark of the emotions hidden behind that strong, emotionless face he noticed that the Stan hadn't approached him alone, ", hi Wendy, you look nice."

"Thanks, Kyle! I really like your vest, it's so classy! You look like a Harvard grad student." Wendy beamed at him. She looked so happy. For the first time since Kyle had accepted his feeling for Stan he felt guilty. He felt guilty that his intentions were to snag the Basketball player out from under Wendy's nose as fast and as furiously as was humanly possible. He would be destroying that happy smile. Likewise, he noticed that Stan was not smiling. For someone who had just started dating a beautiful girl, he didn't seem the most thrilled. Was it bad that he saw that as a fantastic sign?

"Haha, thank's Wendy, I think."

"Oh it's a compliment, I promise." She clarified, patting the boys elbow with one hand, as she hugged herself particularly close to Stan with her other arm. The three stood there, Kenny looking between them silently before quietly slipping away to talk to Butter's and Bebe on the other side of the room. He wanted to stay out of this one, he had done his part.

There was a moment of awkward silence, and then a miracle happened.

"Wendy! Come over here, you promised we would do snake bites!" Red called, leaning around the corner of the kitchen with her hand cupped around her mouth.

"Oh okay, but really? Tequila this early?"

"Yeah, girl! Go big or go home! Now come get a lime!" Red lifted up a shenanigan's shot glass filled with clear liquid and then disappeared behind the wall. Wendy gave Stan a nudge, an apologetic smile, and then leaned up to kiss his cheek.

"Sorry, I better got hang with the girls for a little while. You'll be okay won't you, Stan?"

"Uh…sure." Stan said, unhooking his arm from hers. With that Wendy turned on her heels and waltzed off to do the girl thing. Stan and Kyle were left alone, standing in the corner of a room that had erupted in an explosion of conversation, games, music, and dancing as more and more people backed their way into Craig's house.

"So, uh…I was in line for beer pong…I don't have a partner yet-do you want to-" Kyle's words seemed to come out disjointed. His nerves were getting the better of him.

"Sure, uh…I mean yes." Stan responded, a bit too quickly. Red smeared both their faces. Stan shoved his hands into his pockets and looked away from Kyle's hypnotic eyes, looking to see who was already playing beer pong. It was Eric Cartman and Jimmy, versus Craig and Tweak and with how flustered Eric looked he must have been loosing.

"God damn it Jimmy," Cartman whined, tipping back a quarter cup of beer, "you can't shoot worth shit you fucking cripple!"

"Fuck you Eric, you haven't even gotten o-o-one shot, you fat piece of shit." Jimmy retorted as he lined himself up for his shot.

"At least I can go up and down stares!" Eric shoved the ping pong ball into Jimmys hand with a growl, "I quit, I don't want to paly anymore."

"If you quit, Cartman, than you have to drink all your cups and all of ours." Craig said simply.

"Fuck that, I'm not drinking all your cups." He begrudgingly snatched back the ball and lined up for his shot. Kyle pushed a hand against his lips, giggling as he watched Cartman narrow his eyes in concentration.

"That ass-hat…" Stan grumbled, glancing from the fat boy to the ginger at his side. He was shaking his head, his red curls bouncing against his temples. His glance met Stan's and they shared a silent moment of mutual dislike for the large blustery football player.

The ping pong game went on for another ten or so minutes, and still Eric and Jimmy ended up having to drink all the cups, Cartman being the only one of the pair to be a furiously sore looser about the whole thing.

'Okay, Fat-ass it's our turn." Kyle chimed, grinning as he pulled the wet ping pong ball out of the water cup, and shook it dry. Eric wheeled on Kyle, and his eyes move rapidly between the red head and the tall noirette.

"Oh, so you did show up, Stan." Eric said, his eyes screaming hate, but his lips curled into a smile. Cartman pushed a few shocks of light brown hair back from his hawk like eyes. His predatory glare burned into Stan's, a silent challenge.

"Yeah. I showed up." Stan said, stiffly, not buckling even a small bit under Eric's gaze. Sparks seemed to fly between them, and certainly not in a romantic way. Stan might not have known was Cartman was up to, but something about the way the bigot was acting, and had been acting for awhile, just gave him the creeps.

"Right…uh, okay well lets this next game going!" Kyle said, loudly, clapping his hands together, trying to distract the two boys from there staring contest, "I'm going to go make us each a drink, too Stan, you just got here so you have some catching up to do." Kyle gestured to the disarray of solo cups on the table, "do you mind setting up?"

"Sure I don't mi-" Stan was cut off half way through his response by Cartman, who piped up immediately, smiling broadly. Something about his smile didn't look right, but then again this was something conditioned by many years of knowing the brunette.

"Let me get you guys the drinks, I'm going in there anyways, anyone else want something?" Eric didn't leave time for Kyle or Stan to protest, already others were raising their hands. Cartman began taking orders and then disappeared into the kitchen, ignoring all the orders he had received and blurting out loudly that he would be "surprising everyone" with what he made them.

Kyle and Stan looked at each other and then Kyle shugged, turning to begin reordering the longitudinal pyramid. Stan looked after Eric for a little while longer before turning back to the table to help Kyle.

The game went on for awhile before Eric returned with six or so cups crammed into his arms. A semi circle of on lookers had crowded around the table, shouting and cheering on their respective teams. Stan sunk every single shot he took, rocketing himself and Stan into an enormous lead. He was so good at what he was doing that people began requesting shots.

"Hey Stan! Try and bounce it off of this!" Tolken exclaimed, turning over a cup and setting it mouth down on the table. Stan cleared his throat and glanced over at Kyle, as if asking permission. Kyle only grinned and nodded his head encouragingly.

The basketball player rolled the small plastic ball around in his fingers and then lined up his shot. He took a deep breath in and then let it out. As the breath left his lips and came to the point when no more air was left in his lungs, he made the shot.

"Gee Wiz Stan, You are really good at this!" Butters cried, clapping his hands and bouncing up and down. Kenny, who was standing behind him followed the ball his eyes as it rounded the rim of the center cup and then plopped in. He shook his head slowly, and clapped right along with the rest of everyone else. Stan really was a star, there was no denying that. A few members of the basketball team came up around Stan and patted him on the back, shaking his shoulders with pride.

"Wicked shot, man!" said Brandon, "We all gotta celebrate that one!" Everyone agreed. Even Stan had to admit that it was a pretty good shot, and he found himself smiling despite himself. He took a deep breath, and settled his stiff shoulders down a bit. It was strange, remembering what it had felt like to be…well…to be him. The him that he had pushed away when all those confusing feelings begin popping up.

"You did a good job!" Kyle reached out a hand and ran it down the length of Stan's strong arm. Stan sucked in a sharp breath, and dropped his eyes. The event seemed to happen in slow motion. He watched as Kyle's soft pale fingers ran the length of his upper arm, against the crook of his elbow, and then down his forearm. Those lean fingers sported freckles just like the rest of him, and then seemed to linger along the back of his wrist. By the time Stan looked up again, his eyes came immediately to meet Kyle's magnetic greens. The moment of their eyes staring deeply into each other seemed to linger on forever, but in reality it was only for a moment.

"Hey, faggot, here's your drink." Both boys wheeled their head around, eyes wide, only to see Eric standing there with a drink in each hand. Stan cleared his throat, glancing between the drinks. He reached out to take one, only for Cartman to lift them away from the stretching fingers," Not so fast, that one's Kyle's."

"Oh great, what did you put in mine, Eric?" Kyle snapped, wrinkling his nose.

"Nothing, Kyle...I didn't put anything in your drink. " Eric grinned with sickening sweetness.

"Okay then, fine fat-ass how about you take a drink of it first then!" Kyle demanded, pointing to the red solo cup as Eric passed the other to Stan.

"Fine, I would be happy to, you paranoid little Jew rat." Eric tipped the drink back against his lips and took an audible slurp before passing it to Kyle. The red head blinked a few times, then narrowed his eyes, still cautious. Finally Kyle grumbled and took a draft from the cup.

"Wow, Cartman, this is actually pretty good. Stan you should try this"

"Why thank you, Kyle…"

"What's in this?"

"It's pink lemonade, tequila, pinapple juice, and gador-aid" Cartman said, leaned down a bit and hovered his nose over the glass,

Is mine the same thing, Eric?" Stan asked, raising a brow at the pleasant odor of the drink.

Yes it is, how about the three of us chug, it will be fun." Eric reached around to grab his own cup off the beer pong table and help it up. Stan and Kyle both shrugged and brought their drinks up.

"Oh goody, a toast!" Butters bounced forward and lifted his cup up with theirs, not far behind him was Kenny, who threw an arm over Stan's shoulder and lifted his shot glass up beside the cups. Everyone looked around at each other. "How amaxing" Kyle thought. This might just couldn't have gotten better for him. Everything was working in his favor and it looked like the rest of the night was going to continue to be just as amazing.

"Here's to Honor. Here's to getting in her and getting on her. If you can't cum inner' come on'er" Kenny said, his words slurring together. Butters broke out into a fit of laughter that only died down when Eric finally began speaking the real toast.

"Here's to Stan, may he stay with us from now on." His voice was loud and his lips were curled back in a snarl of a grin. His mind squirmed like a toad and his eyes sparkled with predatory viciousness as everyone tipped back their cups and swigged on their drinks. Cartman drank a little too, watching as Stan gulped down his drink. Things were about to go down hill, and fast.