Thud… thud… thud… thud… thud…
The door had been knocking for five solid minutes before Kenny McCormick heard it over the roar of his video game. He sprung from the lumpy couch with a start, weaving quickly through the piles of trash and laundry covering the floor.
He undid the door lock, deadbolt, bottom lock, top lock and chain, hand poised on the Louisville Slugger against the wall as he threw open the door.
Kenny's eyes widened in awe. There, silhouetted in his door frame against a backdrop of gray sky and drizzle, stood Craig Tucker of all people. The boy was soaked through, his clothes hanging wet and dark off his athletic frame. His wool hat was bloated and cocked at an odd angle. He was barefoot and holding a pair of shoes.
"Can I talk to you?"
Kenny blinked just to be sure he wasn't hallucinating. He shuffled out of the way, holding his arm outstretched, gesturing the soggy boy in. Wordlessly his new guest brushed past him, not bothering to put down a towel before he plopped down on the badly sagging couch.
"Um…" Kenny leaned out past the doorframe, glancing around before easing the door closed. He padded back over, taking a seat on a brown La-Z-Boy that looked like it had seen its fair share of animal births.
"Who was at the door Honey Buns?"
Craig winced. He'd spent the whole walk over hoping he wouldn't be home.
Butters poked his head out of Kenny's kitchen. He was wearing a paisley blue apron and yellow dish gloves and was busy drying a plate. His poofball was meticulously brushed down over one bright blue eye. Very homosexually, Craig noted with disdain. "Hey Craig!"
"Hey Butters," Craig intoned, not reciprocating any of the femmy twink's eagerness and warmth.
"So… what's up?" Kenny studied his soggy acquaintance with rapt attention, unsure of whether he should have left the baseball bat by the door or brought it with him.
Craig sighed, tugging off his hat. He combed his fingers through his soaking wet hair, which had already formed a halo of dampness on Kenny's couch. He rested his head back, staring at nothing, saying nothing. For so long, Kenny thought he may not have heard him. Right as Kenny went to repeat himself, Craig opened his mouth to speak.
"Why are you gay?"
The question caught Kenny off guard. He snorted, collapsing back in the chair, guffawing loudly.
"What's so funny Sweetums?" chirped Butters' very punchable voice from the kitchen.
"Oh man… babe, Craig just asked me why I'm gay!"
Butters' poofball emerged from around the corner. "Oh, Kenny's not gay. He's pansexual!"
Craig's eyes widened. "What?"
Kenny grinned at him. "Yep. S'true."
Butters, who had pried off his dishwashing gloves to join them in the living room, took up a seat in Kenny's lap, much to Craig's chagrin. "An' I'm a monoamorous demiboy with slight bisexual leanings!"
Craig hyperventilated into his cupped fingers. "WHAT DOES ANY OF THAT EVEN MEAN?!"
Smirking, Kenny waggled his eyebrows at him. "Around here, it just means that we're gay."
Craig groaned, slamming his head back against the couch cushion.
"What's this about?"
Rubbing his temple, Craig stared up at the popcorn ceiling, refusing to look at the two of them. "Tweek has been… um. A handful. Lately."
"Ahhh," Kenny nodded sagely. "So the pot finally boiled over, eh? 'Bout damn time. That boy's nuts are probably as blue and swollen as your hat by now. Which, speaking of…" He gave Butters a gentle pat on the rump, making the little cocksleeve squeak. "Babe, would you run upstairs and grab our good friend here a towel? The one not covered in stains, if'n you'd please. Only the best for my guests."
"Okey-dokey!"
Leaning in to peck Kenny on the corner of his mouth (and making Craig wretch in the process) Butters slid out of Kenny's lap, capering away up the stairs.
"Mmmf…" Kenny scratched his chest through his wifebeater, staring after the boy. "Y'know… I hate to see him go. But I love to watch him leave."
Craig struggled to keep his breakfast down. "Can we talk about me now?!"
"Huh?" Kenny perked up as though remembering Craig's presence in his house. "Oh! Yeah. Your thing. What's up?"
"It's Tweek! He's… uggh…" Craig pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. "He's been really clingy lately. Like, stalking me. And…"
"Yeah, yeah… following you into stinky janitor closets for hot makeout sessions. What else?"
Craig's eyes dilated in shock. "How could you possibly know that?!"
Kenny chuckled, reclining in his chair like a king upon his throne. "Dude… we live in a town of less than a thousand people. There are, like, ten queers in South Park. We talk."
"Who else knows?!"
"Um…" Kenny stared into the middle distance, cycling through his fingers. "Me… Butters…Bradley... one of the goth kids… Big Gay Al… Stan's dog…"
"Who the fuck else!"
"Woah!" Kenny held up his hands in surrender. "Chill dude! We're quiet. Keepin' stuff on the DL is our forte, as the French say."
Craig made a noise like a wounded polar bear, covering his face with his hands.
"So the spazz has a crush on you. So what? What do you want me to do about it?"
"I want you to tell me how to get him off my case!"
"Oh." Kenny's brow furrowed. "How about… you…" He snapped his fingers, eyes lighting up. "Ooh! Kick his ass!"
Craig, caught off guard, blinked in rapid succession. "What?"
"Nono, that's totally it!" Kenny grinned cheekily. "Next time you see him, kick the ever-loving shit out of him. I'm talkin' two black eyes, a busted lip, bruises from head to toe. Nothin' says 'I'm not interested' like a broken jaw."
Craig massaged his twitching temple. "I'm not gonna do that."
"Why not?"
"I'm not going to kick Tweek's ass!"
A mischievous curl formed in the corner of Kenny's mouth. "Why not though?"
"Because I don't want to hurt him!"
The room was silent for a moment. Then, in a low voice, Kenny whispered: "Wanna know how I know you're gay?"
All of Craig's muscles wound up at once as though he were readying to pounce. "I'm not gay!"
But Kenny only chuckled. "Oh yes you are. Dude… do you even hear yourself? I've personally watched you beat up half the kids at our school. For way less. But Tweek can follow you around like a lost puppy and make out with you in a closet and you don't wanna hurt him?"
Craig's mouth hung open. "He's my friend!"
"You've beaten up your friends. Clyde. Token. Never Tweek though. Why is that?"
"We've fought before!"
"Yeah. And you both came out of it with minor scrapes and bruises. Dude, if you hadn't been pulling your punches, you would have destroyed him.
Craig was flabbergasted.
"Admit it. You don't want to hurt him - not because he's your friend, but because you care about him."
"He has a rough home life!"
The words, so unexpected, caught Craig off guard. A rough home life? Who the fuck cares? And where the fuck did that come from? What, was he Tweek's guidance counselor now?
The grin splitting Kenny's face from ear to ear churned Craig's stomach. He gathered up his shoes and bolted out of his seat. "Alright, hey, fuck you super hard. I'm leaving."
Kenny was after him in a flash, circling around to cut Craig off at the door. "Craig! Wait a minute!"
Temporarily barred from the exit, Craig snarled through clenched teeth. "What?"
Lightning flashed in Kenny's eyes as he moistened his lips with his tongue.
The moment Kenny kissed him, all of Craig's muscles locked up at once. He was frozen in place like a statue, eyes distended in terror as the boy's chapped lips worked against his.
No sooner had Craig gone to tilt his head, Kenny broke their kiss and rocked back on his heels, studying his petrified guest with amusement. Wearing his biggest shit-eating grin, he gleefully proclaimed: "Yeah… sorry dude. You're totally gay."
Craig, still in shock, stared down at the boy. His fist shot out, colliding with Kenny's stomach.
"Oof!"
Sidestepping Kenny, Craig threw open the door and disappeared back into the rain from whence he came.
Kenny, curled in the fetal position on the carpet, only chuckled. "Okay!" he called after the retreating boy. "See ya later, sis! Welcome to the family!"
