Bubbly: Short chappy, again!! sorry! i just need reviews!!! Gawd!! GAWD!!! don't worry, you'll be seeing more of stanxkyle and craigxtweek in the next chapter!! just review, even if just to say 'I read it' and i'll be content!! is it really that hard!!???

Disclaimer: I thought about saying it this time.

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Chapter 8: The ever cliché blowjob.

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Sometimes I think that I was forced to withdraw into depression because it was the only rightful protest I could throw in the face of a world that said it was all right for people to come and go as they please, that there were simply no real obligations left.

Certainly deceit and duplicity in both romantic and political relationships were nothing new, but at one time, I'm sure, it was nasty, callous, and harsh to hurt someone. Now it's just the way things go, part of the growth process. Really nothing is surprising. My parents had a child that they didn't have too much trouble walking away from; it seems only natural that so many of us could have our own demons which we could sacrifice so easily.

After a while, meaning and implication detach themselves from everything. If one can be a parent and assume no obligations, it follows that one can be a boyfriend and do nothing at all. Hence, my poor ass excuse behind my cheating on Butters.

There's an acrid taste in my throat, saturating my tongue and sedating my tonsils. I think it might be guilt, but I'm not quite sure.

My legs shift restlessly, and I find myself staring at him again, there, curled up into the couch, all honor and humanity.

How his parents could ever raise a hand at his expense, I never would understand. But now, I felt low. Because I had hurt him, let him down, I was shit.

I lay my chin back upon the armrest, and watch the snow through that huge window of ours. I know he loved it the first time he saw it, because "W-Well, y-you could just see everythin' so n-nice, Kenny."

It's all concentrated white and iced up daylight, but it's unusually satisfying. I snort in amusement. "I haven't even gotten an hour's worth of sleep, yet." I whisper distractedly, straining my tired eyes against the intense white world.

Pretty soon you can add friend, acquaintance, fuck buddy, coworker, and just about anyone else to the long list of people who seem to be a part of your life, though there is no code of conduct that they must adhere to.

Pretty soon, it seems unreasonable to be bothered or outraged by much of anything, because, well, what did you expect? In a world where the core social unit--the family--is so dispensable, how much can anything else mean?

I wish I was wrong. I wanna go to sleep.

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There's a slight tapping sensation against my left thigh, and I crane my neck to see Butters swatting lightly at me with the morning newspaper.

"Gee, when d-do ya think you're gonna get up, K-Kenny? It's eight o'clock..." That same stubborn expression is set firmly upon his features, and I smile back up at him when our gazes meet. The smile is lopsided, but genuine, and relief fleets across my brow when his face lights up.

"C'mon, and g-get dressed, it's too cold ta walk ta school, today."

"You wanna take the car today, dude? You're usually the one to insist that we walk through this damn weather." He smiles at me, elation carved clearly onto his features. "O-Only if you let me listen to Enya, o-kay?"

I smirk in amusement and nod, and take my sweet time in watching his ass as he retreats into the kitchen.

"Enya, huh?" I mutter to myself amusedly, standing up. I drag my feet across the beige carpet towards the bathroom, bringing my fingers to my matted blonde mane, sighing to myself.

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16 minutes later, I'm out of the shower and dressed, walking towards the living room while toweling my hair dry. As I seat myself on the loveseat, Butters appears immediately at my side, hands on his hips, his lower lip jutting out in a definite pout.

"Why, with that wet head of y-yours, you'll h-harden like ice outside, mister." He reprimands lightly. I almost moan at the context of that sentence, and mentally slap myself, reminding myself how inappropriate that sounded.

I feel 'little Ken' go a little hard, and stand up awkwardly, before placing a chaste kiss to the blonde's forehead and heading into the bedroom to get my book bag.

"Hey, dude, do ya think you could start up the car? The keys are on the coffee table next to the textbooks." I holler in the direction of the living room.

I wait for an answer, my fingers fumbling with the zippers on my bag. I turn around after a slight pause, and cock my head slightly, turning around on all fours and crawling down the hallway.

As I peer around the corner of the wall, a shadow spills into view, and Butters is suddenly towering above me.

"Kenny..." Holy shit, where did his stutter go? Where the FUCK did his stutter just go!?

I inch back a little, and raise up on my knees, smiling sheepishly before choking out lamely: "Did ya find 'em?"

Did he find out? Did Bebe call? Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit...

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Less than five minutes later, I find myself pressed against the bedroom door, hot and sticky, panting as I received the blowjob of my life. How the hell is he so good at this? Better than Bebe!

His hot, gummy pink tongue suckles and laps slowly against me, and his blonde head bobs lightly, quickly. By the time I've sputtered out all of the incoherent ramblings my mind has composed, he's taken me to heaven and back.

He pulls away from me, a heartrending smile gracing his lips. There's desolation in his eyes, and his face is red. Humiliation stains his features.

He meets my gaze as he stands slowly, and leans forward to place a chaste, devoted kiss to my brow.

"Was I...?" He starts cautiously. I sigh repentantly and rest against him, bringing my arms around his hips. I'm still out of breath. "I love you, dude." Could I even say his name?

He sighs wretchedly against me, burrowing his head into the crook of my neck.

We're both aware of what I had done. I wanted to commit this to memory. I wanted to discipline myself. But that wasn't what he wanted. He knew I had cheated. He already fucking knew.

What the fuck had I just let him do? The guilt began to come back full force, and I felt my heart begin to splinter and collapse within my chest. I groan inwardly, my eyes slipping shut.

That was so cliché. Cliché's hurt.

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Bubbly: Sorry for the tiny lime!! Yes, it was Butter's first time doing something of 'that nature'. My boyfriend was feeding my goldfish , and I had been practically blushing and gushing blood from my nose as I wrote that part!! Godd!!! please review!! it makes me feel nice. and loved!!!