AN: Ok...first off I just had a whole thing written here (like so many times before) and my internet was a bitch and erased it. Short version: sorry this has taken so long, lots of personal crap, writer's block, etc. Next chap might be shorter (like this one) but will be out sooner. I hope you guys still like reading this and sorry if this chap isn't as good (it was kinda the hump chap so to speak) I love you guys for all your reading, favoriting, and reviewing! Sorry again for the wait and the length of this...it was a really hard chap to write for many reasons :( I hope you guys like it, next one will be out sooner! Love you guys! I don't own SP!

"When we spoke, no joke
I started shedding slutty girls like snakeskin,
My collection acquired through shallow misdirection
And as I drive tonight,
West coast sky daring me to try,
I feel alive tonight,
The possibility that I'm your guy" - Say Anything

"I'm bored." The twenty minutes of the ambient noises of keyboard clacking and intermittent chair squeaking were broken from the prone figure stretched on the bed.

"Good for you Kenny," Kyle didn't even look up.

"You're the host Kyle; you're s'posed to keep me entertained," Kenny swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat up.

Still seated at his desk Kyle snorted. "First of all, we're supposed to be working on this damn report which, by the way, is going to take even more time since everyone else bailed on us. Secondly, fuck you, I know you don't give a crap about that 'host' bullshit; and third, entertain your own damn self Kenny."

The click-clack of keyboard keys resumed as Kyle buried himself back into his task at hand. The other boy however, the one who has just been ordered to entertain his "own damn self", seemed inclined acquiesce to his own interpretation of his friend's demands.

Kenny was so quiet that when he crept behind Kyle and draped his long arms around his neck he felt the ginger practically jump out of his skin.

"Goddammit Kenny! Don't do that!"

Kyle's exclamation was all together ignored by the aforementioned person.

"But Kyle, I know something that will keep us both entertained," his whispered words slipped out silky smooth into Kyle's ear.

The desk chair violently swung around, forcing Kenny to remove his offending appendages. Even his glare couldn't disguise the hint of a blush that still tainted Kyle's cheeks.

"Kenny-"

Suddenly Sheila Broflovski was standing in the doorway.

"Oh Kenny, bubellah, you're still here; would you like to stay for dinner?"

Kenny ignored what he was sure was a look of protest from Kyle. He answered sweetly to the second redhead, "Okay, thanks Mrs. Brof, if I'm not too much or anything."

"Of course not Kenny, you boys are practically mishpucheh," Kenny wondered if this included Eric Cartman, "I've made more than enough for everyone. Now, both you boys come down and give me a hand, dinner's almost ready."

"Okay, Ma." Kyle stood and followed his mother without a word or a glance at Kenny, Kenny trailed behind him.

As soon as the trio had turned the corner from the bottom of the stairs into the dining room Sheila was executing orders. "Alright now, Kenny dear, take off your gloves and wash your hands. You can help me finish with the food and set the table. Tsk, Ike's late. Boubbie, go and get your brother at his little friend's and make sure to wear a coat and grab a scarf; it's getting cold out."

Kyle paused and looked between his mother and friend suspiciously for a moment. He seemed reluctant to leave the two of them alone, but powerless to do anything, he started again and headed to the door. Out of eyesight there was a rustle of fabric and the whine of a door hinge followed quickly by the heavy slam of the front door.

"And don't slam the door!" Sheila called out a second too late. Her hands went to rest on her hips as she let out a frustrated grunt. "He's such a good boy, but he's been acting so strange lately."

When she turned to Kenny, who stood stock still, she was smiling again. "Alright Kenny, let's get this done, Kyle's father will be home soon too."

Kenny tugged off his gloves, the dark and dirty threadbare material glided across his rough skin. He shoved them into the pocket of his sweatshirt carelessly. He shoved his sleeves up to the elbow as he went to the kitchen sink to wash his hands. Sheila listed off instructions as he rinsed the soap off his skin.

"I'm just going to finish with the chicken and let the rolls sit in the oven a few minutes," she stood over a hot skillet as she spoke, spatula in hand, "Kenny, you can make a salad. Everything's by the cutting board, just tear up the lettuce and chop up the vegetables. Then you can mix it up with the salad tongs."

Kenny made his way to stand at the counter space next to Sheila and began his task. One thing was for certain, with Kyle's mom you definitely always had clear cut instructions.

"Kenny dear," Sheila's voice cut through as he raised the knife. "You boys are all at that age, you're all growing up so fast."

Kenny wasn't sure if he liked where this was going; he sensed one of those awkward parent talks coming on. He was rarely privy to one of those and his most recent had prompted him to chase after this woman's son like he was the last man, woman, or anything remotely fuckable, left on the planet. And although somewhat intrigued, he doubted this conversation would be nearly as interesting as the ones he and Kyle had had with their fathers.

"All of the sudden Kyle won't tell me anything."

She was probing him. Okay, now he definitely didn't like where this was going.

He never told you anything, Kenny thought.

"I don't understand it, but Kyle's father says it's normal. Anyway, you boys are so close and I'm worried about him since he's been acting so odd," Sheila paused. "I've seen him act like this before, but not this much. I think he must have a crush on a boy at school. Has he told you anything?"

Startled, he felt himself go rigid with discomfort. Leave it to mothers to turn even the cockiest of young men into self-conscious boys. "No," he said with a shake of his head.

"I wonder if it's that Bridon boy from basketball, they're so close. Oh, or maybe Stan. I hope it's not Stan, oh my poor little boubbie would just be crushed."

"A boy?" was all that Kenny could say.

"Yes, Kyle is gay, you know that, right Kenny?"

No, but there was no way he was going to let her know that. He nodded his head, "Yeah, but…how-?"

Sheila smiled at him, "A mother just knows some things Kenny. Although I wish he would just tell me, but his father made me promise to wait for him." She frowned in annoyance. Oh I just wish he would, I would love to help him and I'm sure there are some lovely boys from the temple. We could join support groups together too…"

Kenny nodded along, but didn't listen. The carrots were being cut unevenly with inexperience and distraction. That's probably why he doesn't wanna tell you. He shoulda told me though. Fuck you, Kyle. Under his hood the blonde was frowning; he was bothered by this new information. It wasn't that surprising, but still, Kyle should've told him, they were friends weren't they? He also felt more than a little irked that Kyle had kept this information secret during his entire pursuit. What else didn't he know about the ginger Jew of South Park?

Sheila train of thought was cut off by the sound of the front door. She looked up and saw her husband stroll in, briefcase in hand. Kenny sliced the rest of a cucumber.

"Ah, you're home Gerald. I was just talking to Kenny about Kyle, he says Kyle hasn't told him anything either."

"Sheila, if Kyle and Kenny don't-wait, what?" Gerald's initially calm admonishment had turned into startled shock as the words exited his mouth. The wrinkles in the middle-aged man's face became all the more pronounced as his wide eyes darted between the teenager and is wife nervously; his silence in the face of his expectantly looking wife spoke volumes to Kenny: he was trying to figure out just how much had been said and how to tread this dangerous territory of minefields and potholes in the coming conversation with his wife of over twenty years.

Dude, what a pussy. Your dad is so fucking whipped Kyle.

Gerald eyes turned and watched Kenny carefully for a minute before admonishing his wife. "Now Sheila, we promised to let Kyle make that decision on his own. He'll talk to us when he's ready, not Kenny." The two adults were now turned toward one and speaking in the private way couples do, completely lost in their own conversation.

Were they just going to ignore they're little third party?

"I know, but we already know and so does Kenny. What's the harm in finding out who my little bubbellah has a crush on?"

This was getting way too fucking weird. Okay, seriously, had they forgotten a very uncomfortable teenager was standing in their midst?

Kenny stood audience as he watched the family mini-drama unfold. The salad was half-finished and forgotten.

"Sheila," Gerald began, but was stopped by the sound of an opening door and noisy bickering.

"-not the one who told you to come."

"Yeah, well you should've been home already. You knew Mom wanted you home for dinner."

"We were working."

"Bullcrap Ike. You guys were playing video games!"

"I'm gonna tell mom!"

"I'm gonna play kick-the-baby!"

"Ike! Take off your coat and get ready for dinner! Kyle, watch your language, and don't threaten your little brother! Now you three boys finish setting the table."

Having asserted dominance once again Sheila turned to put rolls into a basket. Kyle was glaring when he entered the kitchen, he marched to a cabinet and pulled out a stack of plates. Kenny grabbed a handle and pulled open a squeaky drawer, to fish out silverware. It was a little weird for him to see how they all matched perfectly, no broken or missing pieces.

Both teens went to the dining room and began the set up in silence. Ike soon joined to place out glasses and napkins. In a few minutes the food was on the table and they were feasting in comfortable silence.

A short-lived silence.

"Kyle, take off your hat at the table," Sheila reprimanded. "And Kenny dear, take off that hood."

They did as they were told, Kenny quickly and Kyle unhappily, but wisely saying nothing. They returned to comfortable silence.

Once again it was short-lived.

"I don't understand why either of you do that. Boubbie, you have such beautiful hair! I wish you wouldn't cover it up. Kenny, don't you agree?"

Kyle looked so embarrassed Kenny couldn't help himself, "Yup, sure do Mrs. Broflovski. Kyle, that's some beee-ooo-tiful hair you got there." He smiled cheekily and snickered.

Kyle was glaring daggers at him, but Sheila continued obliviously.

"And Kenny, you're such a handsome boy. I don't understand why you would hide it, you look just like an angel, isn't that right Kyle?"

Kyle's face got redder.

"Mom," he groaned.

"What? Kyle you should be proud to have such an attractive friend. You're all such handsome little men."

"Mom," Kyle repeated, burying his face in his hand.

Kenny was trying hard not to burst out laughing, it was proving difficult. His shoulders were shaking, tears were pricking at the corner of his eyes. This was just too perfect. He should have dinner here more often; eating Kosher was totally worth seeing Kyle's face all pink and red like that.

"I-I'm s-sorry Mrs., Mrs. B. I'll b-be right b-back." Kenny almost knocked his chair down as he ran to the bathroom. He had barely gotten the door shut when he let out a long and loud series of guffaws.

He was doubled over laughing, trying not to vomit what he had just eaten. After a minute or two he had calmed himself to just a few chuckles. As opened the door he wiped the tears from his eyes.

When he returned red-faced and breathless everyone was looking at him. Apparently his laughter had been a little louder than he had realized.

"Kenny, are you alright?" Sheila was looking at him with concern.

"Oh yeah, I just had, uh, something stuck in my throat," he grinned.

"Well, sit down then and have some water. That'll help."

"Thanks Mrs. Brof."

Ignoring the hate lasers of death Kyle's eyes were sending his way, Kenny slid back into his chair. Kyle looked ready to kill him. Ike was watching him as though he was dissecting him under a microscope. Even the normally oblivious Gerald was watching the two boys carefully as he chewed his food slowly. The air was so thick you could cut it with knife.

Sheila Broflovski was the only one who continued normally, unaware of the tension.

"So Kenny, how's your family? What's everyone been up to?"

Silence broken, everyone returned to their plates.

"They're okay, same old."

"That's nice and how's school going?"

"Okay. Kyle's been helping me," He shot Kyle a sly glance.

Kyle grunted inattentively as he slouched over his food.

"Kyle, sit up straight. I'm so glad to hear that. You know, you boys are upperclassmen now. It's time for you to all buckle down and start studying hard. A lot of colleges are getting tougher these days, isn't that right Gerald?"

"Mmm," Gerald didn't look away from his food.

The conversation continued on like this for a few minutes, only Sheila and Kenny talking. Well, more like Sheila talking and Kenny mostly nodding and shaking his head. The three other Broflovskis were grunting or "mmm"-ing in agreement infrequently, not really listening.

"So tell me Kenny, do you have a little girlfriend yet?"

"No, but I'm working on it."

"AH!"

Quickly Kenny retreated his hand.

Thunk.

Everyone looked up at the redheaded, and red-faced, boy, his chair knocked to the floor from his sudden movement.

"Boubbie, are you alright?"

"Yeah Ma," Kyle said as he recovered, blush fading. He moved to right his chair.

"I just thought I felt something bite me," the last two words were hissed in Kenny's direction, a statement in and of itself.

"I'm sure it's nothing dude," Kenny smiled rather sweetly. Too sweetly…like aspartame.

Kenny picked up his fork and resumed eating, everyone but Kyle followed suit. After another moment of glowering, Kyle finished his meal too.

Sheila Broflovski had started a one-sided conversation again, but Kenny wasn't paying attention anymore. His right hand tingled. The denim covering his legs felt like Kyle's. His hand was forming memories of its own; the thinness, the lean, toned musculature of Kyle's thigh had burned into the flesh of his fingers.

Huh, well that was a new sensation. It was the polar opposite of unpleasant, but the unceasing tingling where his body had touched Kyle's wasn't something he was used to. The tingling, in fact, seemed to have traveled down somewhere in his belly, where it burned like a little fire. Kenny wasn't the type to overanalyze such reactions though, if he had, well, maybe he would've realized his own predicament a lot sooner. Instead he merely enjoyed the feeling cascading in him.

All throughout dinner the tingling in his body distracted him from everything else. He didn't think much of it when he said his last taunting goodbyes, "See ya later Kyle!" with an exaggerated wink and a moment of rather intimate contact with Kyle's ass that was accepted with curses, or when he walked through the dark over the railroad tracks to his house. The tingling feeling was even still there after his nightly ritual of jerking of, which oddly enough involved Kyle and whipped cream instead of the Playboy Mansion and…well, whipped cream. Even after that though, as he lay in his crappy bed with his eyes drifting closed to the sounds of his parents' drunken arguing, the tingling in his hand continued on.

And in the darkness of the moonlit room Kenny's face softened into its nocturnal state of angelic tenderness. Tonight, for the first time in months, instead of a devil's smirk a contented small smile lay on the lips of the sleeping teenage devil's angel.