Authors note:

Thank you reviewers! I also want to let you know that this fic isn't really about Butters being molestered. lol It's a Kenny/Butters and that's what it mainly focuses on--plus some SXK on the side cause they're hawt.

Chapter 2-Changes

Butters' grounding allowed him to mostly recover from his weekend escapades, both the wanted and unwanted ones. When he rolled into school that Monday he still had Kenny on the brain, but Kenny's trademark orange parka was nowhere to be found as of yet. Luckily, Butters managed to spot the next best thing: Stan.

Butters shuffled delicately to Stan Marsh's side, waiting patiently for some acknowledgement as Stan finished keying a text message into his phone.

"Hey Butters" Stan greeted once he'd flipped his cell closed.

"Heya, Stan," he mumbled, head down as he toed his untied shoelace with his other shoe. All the normal bubbliness of his voice seemed to have gone flat. "C-could I ask you 'bout somethin'?"

Stan looked Butters up and down, noting the prominent lack of the other boy's characteristic chirpiness. Butters Stotch was usually the only kid anywhere who could be happy despite being at school on a Monday morning. If that didn't get him down, something must really be wrong, Stan quickly realized.

"Sure dude. What's up?" Stan asked.

"W-well, I was grounded again this weekend, and when you're grounded you get to thinking about stuff," Butters explained, his tone coming out strangely soft, like an apology. "I know this is silly an-and all, but I know you won't laugh at me like the other guys would." He took a deep breath, still not meeting the other's eyes; a dog who had been kicked too many times. "What's it like to be loved?"

As expected, Stan didn't laugh. In fact, he frowned when he heard the question. It was a rather sad question, and in all honesty, it was being asked by a rather sad individual.

"Aw-aw come on Butters, don't talk like that," Stan tried to encourage. "You're loved."

Butters hugged himself, shaking his head so slowly it was barely visible. "Now, Stan, I'm not fishin' for compliments or nothin'," he looked up slowly, waiting for Stan to cringe and shy away when Butters met his eyes. But the boy didn't move. "I love plenty but never get nothin' back. I think maybe it's my face, or maybe cause I'm always gettin' myself into trouble. What's it really like, Stan, to love someone and actually have them love you back? Is it just like all those songs?"

Stan blinked, his brain now fully processing the question. "Ohhhh. You mean love love don't you? Oh, boy..." he closed his eyes, thinking it over. He wanted to give Butters an honest answer. He exhaled after a moment and opened his blue eyes, focusing them back on Butters. "Well, I think everyone deals with love differently. But, I guess some stuff's the same for everybody. Your stomach feels weird. You get nervous around them. Maybe you cry if you think they don't like you or something...Not that I mind, but can I ask why you're asking me this?"

Butters rubbed an eye tiredly. Gee, his bottom was still awful sore. He wished he could have stayed in bed. He looked back down at his shoes, hiding his eyes behind overgrown bangs. "I already know what it's like for someone not to love you back. I thought it might be kinda nice if I knew what it was like if everyone didn't hate me so much. Why then I'd have somethin' better to think about the next time I get grounded. You're the best person to go to and all. I mean, you've got Kyle like you wanted. Maybe you could tell me what I'm doin' wrong."

"Wait, what? Kyle?" Stan questioned, his eyebrows raising. "What are you talking about? What about me and Kyle?"

"Oh, well you know," Butters gushed, a hint of a smile finally curving his lips. "It took you such a long time to figure stuff out and all, but once you did it seems like it was well worth its weight in pain. Why, I don't think I've seen anything more beatiful than when the two of you are lookin' at each other. Besides maybe the Christmas lights that blink off and on."

Stan blinked. He opened his mouth, closed it, and then opened it again. "...What?! Wait, do you think me and Kyle are...? Oh, no dude. No. No no no. It's not like that," Stan insisted. There was a brief pause. Butters looked at Stan, who looked right back at him. Now it was Stan's turn to nervously fidget. "...Um, d-did he say it was like that though?" He inquired, a bit hopefully.

Hesitation. Butters looked to the left, then the right, then back at Stan. "Well, gee, and here I thought-" he paused, letting out a confused breath. "B-but when he was in the bathroom... I really thought that you were...I.. Oh, biscuits and gravy," He 'cursed', smashing his knuckles together.

Stan blinked again. "...Oh. You were in there?" he deadpanned, a bit embarrassed. He stepped closer to Butters, also looking from side to side. "...In that case, yeah, we are."

"I knew it!" Butters exclaimed, most of his former "cheerleader" reappearing. "Don't worry none, Stan, now that I know it's a secret, I won't tell anyone."

"Thanks dude" Stan whispered. "That kinda thing's just really hard to talk about here. You know?"

Butters scratched his head, still a bit confused. "Just between you an' me, Stan, you guys are kinda really gay with each other. It was pretty obvious."

Stan frowned. "Shit, really? ...I guess that explains a few things." As they continued to talk, Stan opened up his locker to gather some school supplies. The inside of the locker was spray-painted with the word "FAGGOT." This was one of the many 'mysteries' Stan had just been referring to.

"Just last week you were feeding each other french-fries right there in the middle of the cafeteria. Boy, everyone was watching you. And your hand is always on his knee when we ride the bus," Butters explained helpfully. "And then there's the way you're always staring into each others eyes like you're mind reading or somethin' and no one can get your attention even if their hair was on fire."

Stan laughed slightly. "We're mind-something, alright," he agreed. "...Look, I'm sorry someone doesn't like you, but, I think you're a great guy. As far as love goes..." he bit his lip, thinking of the right words. "...Well, I'll put it like this. Before Kyle came along, I dated a lot of losers. And some good people where it just didn't work out. But then with Kyle, it just...I don't know...It just felt right. You know? Love's like...The greatest feeling in the world. When you find it, it'll be worth whatever you had to go through to get there. So hang in there, buddy."

"I tried real hard, Stan," Butters said, his tone dulling several degrees. "I thought maybe I was getting somewhere because he even let me stay the night... but then I found out the he hates me, unless I'm letting him pound my bottom sore. And even then I'm not allowed to show my face. Maybe I need plastic surgery."

"Him?" Stan repeated, his voice once again going monotonous. "Guess we both have a secret."

"Secret? Wow. I thought he would have told you everything." Butters absorbed this, then frowned deeper. "Boy, he must really hate me. He's probably too embarrassed of me to say anything. And all this time I thought we were friends."

"Dude, back up a second. First of all, who's 'he'?"

Butters looked around nervously, still not seeing a splash of orange anywhere. "Maybe I shouldn't say. He would have told you if he wanted you to know."

Stan shrugged. "Not necessarily. Maybe he's keeping it secret, too? Besides, how'm I gonna kick his ass for you if I don't know who it is?"

Butters blinked at that, then smiled slowly. "You'd really kick someone's- someone's ass for me? Gee. Well..." He moved in closer, whispering low in Stan's ear. "It's Kenny."

Stan blinked again. "Kenny? Dude, Kenny doesn't think you're ugly or anything. Please don't go get surgery okay?" he pleaded, somewhat exasperated. Not at Butters. Just at the fact that he knew townspeople in South Park tended to take things too far too often.

"Well, how would you know that?" Butters wondered. "If he hasn't said nothing to you then you can't know what he thinks. I asked him if I were his favorite, an' darn if he didn't tell me that was like choosin' between kids. He likes us all the same and Clyde is one of us, and Kenny really hates Clyde."

"Yeah, but he fucks Clyde anyway 'cause he's hot to Kenny and can give him shoes. Trust me, Kenny has his pick of most people at this school. He's not gonna bone somebody he thinks is ugly, 'cause he can get good-looking people any time he wants to. If he's...Uh...Pounding your bottom sore, he must think you're at least good-looking," Stan reasoned.

"Oh." Butters touched his face, as if feeling it could determine its attractiveness. "W-well, that still doesn't mean he hates me any less than Clyde just 'cause he likes my face. It just means I still don't know why he hates me. If I could figure it out, then maybe I could change it, see?"

The school bell sounded, sending various students scampering in various directions.

"I've gotta get to class. We can talk more later if you want, 'kay? Just...Hang in there dude. You're a nice enough guy. I can't see why anyone would hate you. But if he still makes you miserable after a while, I'll go kick his ass."

Butters wanted to thank Stan for his help, but he was only able to sigh as his eyes fell back down to his shoes. Hamburgers. If it wasn't his face, what could it be? Maybe Kenny just hated everyone.

The reason Kenny couldn't be found inside the school was because he was behind it having a cigarette. His lungs exhaled the sweet smoke that always started Kenny's morning off on a good note. At least in his mind it did. He dropped his butt and extinguished it with his shoe. He knew he only had so long until class started. Time to probably head inside and look forward to his next smoke at lunch. As he prepared to turn the corner and enter the school building, he ran into Bebe Stevens, who was making her way behind the school herself for whatever reason.

"Hey, Kenny," Bebe purred, preventing him from going any further. She brushed her hair behind her shoulder, purposely skimming her nipple to bring it to life beneath her tight tubetop; the one in which she failed to wear a bra beneath, claiming that visible straps were slutty. "I missed you this weekend."

Kenny grinned as he openly admired Bebe's ample chest. "Hey. Yeah, I was busy. Hope you weren't too lonely without me."

Truthfully, Bebe could have been Kenny's twin for all her promiscuousness. She'd spent her weekend with Token, and they weren't playing checkers. But Bebe frowned, pouting openly as she fingered the strings of Kenny's hoodie. "I kind of was. I waited by the phone all weekend. I was so horny I didn't know what to do."

"Aww," Kenny said, feeling bad for the allegedly sexually deprived girl and her supposedly unsatisfied hormones. "Well they don't call it a booty call for nothing. Next time pick the phone up yourself."

"I called three times!" she lied. In fact, it had only been once, and she immediately dialed Token after. "Whoever answered said you were busy. What could you possibly be doing that you couldn't drop to answer for me?"

"Butters Stotch, actually," Kenny bragged. Kenny was a manwhore, but he was an honest one. He didn't string along any of his playthings. Bebe apparently couldn't say the same thing, even to a guy who didn't mind being used as a piece of meat in the first place.

Bebe gaped openly, her hands falling away from Kenny's chest. "Butters Stotch?" She scoffed, wrinkling her pretty little nose. Butters failed to even register on her radar. Really, he was a cute kid and everything, but did he even know what sex was? Bebe couldn't imagine he'd be any good at that sort of thing. And besides, how dare her plaything play her! It had to be some kind of mix up.

"Oh my God, Kenny," she laughed lightly, leaning against his arm to give him an impressive feel of her hardened nipples. "If you were that desperate for a lay, why didn't you call me? You know I'm always up for a little kink."

"Sorry babe. I was in the mood for boys, and Butters is as good in bed as any of 'em. Don't let his innocent looks fool you."

Bebe felt a tingle of desire waver over her a moment. Butters good in bed, huh? Seducing him was probably so easy it was laughable. But that didn't matter! Obviously he had taken precedence over her this weekend, and that was not cool. "He can't be so good that you weren't up for another round." She tried again. "You know I can do it better."

Kenny chose to purposely ignore Bebe's remark about being better in bed. He refused to compare his lovers. Like he told Butters, they were all the same to him in bed. Yeah, some did have special talents, and honestly, Kenny knew Butters could even teach Bebe a few tricks, but why start a debate over who's better when you can just fuck them all? Taking a different tact himself, Kenny reached his hands out and unbuttoned Bebe's top, exposing her braless cleavage. He brought his face to her chest, licking and nuzzling it in both apology and admiration.

"You know I love these things," he reminded her, dodging the continued talk about Butters. "Maybe we can make up for lost time later?"

Bebe softened a little, already getting wet. Kenny was a rock star in bed. He always knew just how to get her off, multiple times. There was no way she would ever pass up an opportunity to ride that stallion. She pressed her chest against his face, a soft hum echoing in her throat as she ran her painted nails over the front of his jeans. "How's now for you?"

Now was terrible for Kenny. He had no friends or current lays in his first class, so he couldn't get the missed notes off anyone. Bebe could. Besides, getting your heart rate up after a cigarette kind of defeated the purpose of a relaxing morning smoke. Nonetheless, Kenny hadn't had pussy for a good while, and he didn't want one of his most frequent fucks mad at him.

"Okay" he agreed.

"Girls locker room in gym," she said, tugging him eagerly into the building. "No one's in there first period, and besides," she led him through another door and promptly slammed it behind him. "It's the closest room and I need it now." She shrugged out of her shirt and dropped to one of the changing benches, spreading her legs wide to show off her black lace thong beneath her skirt. Bebe had no trouble following the rules. She didn't care about kissing. She didn't care about anything but getting off at least twice.

Kenny unzipped and dropped his pants, his cock already going hard as he stared down at the almost-nude girl. He kneeled down onto the bench and crawled up to Bebe between her parted legs. Kenny pulled off his boxers, then reached under the girl's skirt to push her thong off to the side. He intentionally brushed her clit as he moved the last of the clothing separating them aside.

Bebe wriggled anxiously, chest heaving with hard breaths, and grabbed hold of the bench seat. Kenny didn't like it face to face, and technically, neither did she. But watching his cock thrusting into her was a huge turn-on, and he seemed to appreciate watching her tits bounce. As long as they couldn't feel breath on each other's faces and kept their eyes on each other's bodies, they could successfully avoid anything "intimate". Thank God. Nothing ruined a good fuck like loving gazes.

Kenny's pointer finger rubbed quick circles on Bebe's clit, hoping she'd hurry up and get wet enough for insertion. Maybe if he fucked her quickly enough he could still catch half of class. He stared at her breasts as she began reacting to his bare-minimum sexual touch. He'd fuck her tits and leave if he could, but Bebe surely wanted an orgasm of her own. Finally, Kenny grabbed his cock with his free hand and guided the head to Bebe's opening, moving his hand away. He slid in past her pink lips and stood himself back up once he was deep enough inside to move in and out without his dick completely slipping out. With Bebe and the bench between Kenny's split legs, he began to thrust himself into her moist hole, grunting unemotionally while not looking above Bebe's nipples.

Her breath hissed through her teeth and broke off on a low moan. Just the few moments it took to get to this point had her ready to go off. She moved her hands up, stimulating her own nipples as she watched him thrust ruthlessly into her.

The sight of Bebe fondling her own mounds made Kenny more eager to cum, so he thrust into Bebe harder. To Kenny, it was as if he were jerking it to porn. He and Bebe weren't close outside of bed like Kenny and Butters sort of were. He didn't secretly hate her like he did Clyde. He just didn't much care for her either. They had sex in common and not much else, so it dominated their brief encounters and conversations. Kenny didn't mind that. It satisfied a need for both of them, and in Kenny's case, gave him something that felt better than his hand to cum into. He suspected he made a nice substitute for Bebe's vibrator as well.

It was true, in fact, that Bebe had tossed her vibrator after she'd gotten her first taste of Kenny's cock. He knew how to work it good. He was never afraid of hurting her, and as a result, she never had to instruct him to do it harder or deeper. He got it just right every time. And unlike Token and the others she bounced between, Kenny never tried to kiss her or make conversation afterward. Her moans got louder as she drew closer. The sound of his hardness plunging into wetness filled the locker room nicely. She threw her head back and her hips tilted forward, her blonde curls nearly touching the floor on the other side of the bench. "Oh fuck, yeah!" she finally screamed, feeling the first ripple of her release hit.

Kenny felt Bebe's wet heat enclose around his pumping member, which started the beginning of his orgasm as well. Their basic sex act was closer to a sexual-education video than a porno flick, save for the fact that Kenny was standing instead of on top and he and Bebe were in a locker room instead of a bedroom. Kenny drove his cock all the way in as he came, wanting to leave no evidence of the act behind. Bebe had always been smart enough to take the pill. She hated getting cum on her, so she always opted for condoms or pill-protected barebacking. Kenny was fine with this, too, because it meant she swallowed.

Her moans dulled with her orgasm, tapering off to quiet grunts of "fuck, yeah," until her body finally stopped spasming. She went limp against the bench a moment, feeling him pull out and move away the second the last of his seed had spilled. He never stayed in longer than needed. She pushed herself up and readjusted her bunched panties, then looked around for her shirt. "Damn, I needed that."

Bebe's words were spoken to an otherwise empty locker room. Following her sentence, the door closed behind the already departed Kenny. As he raced for class, Kenny made a mental note not to take off any clothes the next time they fucked like that. His pants and boxers both had holes in them. He could fuck through them and leave sooner afterward.

His thoughts also drifted to Butters. He too had said he wanted to watch Kenny fuck him. Kenny wasn't sure why his dick going in and out of holes was such a popular visual, but who really cared why? He made another mental note to remember to talk to Butters later and make peace with him as he'd just done with Bebe.

At least Butters wouldn't make him late for class.

Ironically enough, Butters was drifting almost ghost-like down the corridor, his eyes rendered again on his shoes as they moved patiently beneath him. He looked up when he felt Kenny's presence running toward him and instinctively took a step to the side to allow him to pass. Now, it was normal routine for Butters to light up every time he saw Kenny, exclaiming his name cheerfully as he clung to the other blonde. He never let go until Kenny pried him off. But today, his expression didn't waver, and not a sound of acknowledgment spilled from his lips as he began moving at his turtle's pace again.

Kenny flew past Butters, then stopped dead in his tracks. His shoes squeaked against the hallway floor as he froze in place, doing a bit of a double-take. Kenny looked back and noticed Butters slowly heading in the other direction. Had he not seen him or something?

"Hey Butters!" Kenny called out down the hall. They were already late. What was another minute of small-talk going to hurt?

"Heya, Kenny," He said simply, not even bothering to turn around. What was the point? Kenny hated it when he tried to be nice like a friend, and Butters didn't think he could take that cold, blank stare from him right now.

One of Kenny's eyebrows rose, concerned by the other boy's complete lack of normal daily affection. Kenny considered the hugs Butters' polite way of groping him in public. He was used to them. And now...Nothing? Butters must really be pissed off, Kenny figured.

"Aww, no hugs today?" Kenny questioned with what he hoped was a cute, flirty pout on his face. It's not like Butters was in a hurry judging by his slow walk.

"Rule number three," Butters recited tonelessly, almost more to himself than Kenny. "No hugging." He had taken it upon himself to memorize the list and burn them to memory so he didn't slip up and make Kenny hate him more.

Kenny frowned. 'Shit' he thought. 'He ispissed off.' Apparently this would be harder to fix than Kenny had anticipated. Butters was being more of a girl than Bebe.

"...Butters?" Kenny tried to call out one more time. "Er...You wanna come over later?"

Butters paused with his hand on the door to his science class and stared blankly at the frost-plated glass. He had never turned Kenny down. In fact, he'd always accepted his invites with dramatic exclamations and, usually, more unwanted, unreturned, unrequited hugs. Gee, that was depressing to think about. "My bottom's awful sore. Maybe you should ask Clyde, or somethin'. He's actin' like a real pussy, so he must need to get laid real bad. Well-- see ya, Kenny." And he disappeared through the door.

"...Ouch." Kenny turned back around and headed for his own class, his rejected eyes mimicking Butters' by not leaving the floor.

TO BE CONTINUED!

-Buttered-Popcorn