Stan inhaled from the cigarette deeply, feeling the smoke condense into his lungs. He tried to zone out the loud, obnoxious pop music from the gym and the muted sounds of kids cheering and dancing. The night sky had sharp bright pinpoints of lights, shining like shards of ice. His ever present phone was silent; Kyle had refused to text him tonight.

"Hey, Stan." A thin, timid voice behind him said.

Stan turned. "Hey, Butters. What're you doing out here?"

"Aint I got a right?"

"Of course, Butters. But first of all, there's a party going on. Second, the party's inside the gym."

"Well, I came with Karen. She's gone to the ladies room. It's not so bad, actually. I'm graduating this year and she's in 9th grade, so it's her first time going to a school dance. I wanted her to see what it was like without the pressure of having to impress a date. But what're you doing here at Prom?" Butters asked, looking uncomfortable in his tuxedo and shined black shoes.

"Yeah, I know. It's all a big scandal, isn't it? Kid finally comes out, his dad has a heart attack and doesn't even know the whole truth, then stupid kid shows up to Prom to disgrace himself even more." Stan returned the cigarette to his lips, straightening his back in his dad's old sports coat.

He stood there in silence, letting Butters feel even more awkward and guilty. They hadn't talked in nearly a year. In all honesty, Stan hadn't talked to anyone but Kyle and Kenny since all his plans and dreams fell through.

"I'm sorry for asking, Stanley. I'll see you later." Butters finally mumbled after a sufficiently uneventful amount of time.

"Wait, Butters." Stanley sighed, "Look, I'm sorry. I don't mean to be such a bitch. I heard you pretty much saved Kenny's life by giving him Kyle's address. Thanks for that. He's still one of my best friends and we were all worried sick for him. You're a good guy."

"Oh, I don't think so. I just happened to mention to him where Kyle was living."

"Yeah, but you're taking care of his sister, aren't you?" Stan countered, leaving Butters quiet. Stan shrugged, dropping the nearly burnt out cig. "It's okay. I know a good guy when I see one, even if he doesn't think so."

"Thank you. I don't mean to bother you." Butters started to turn back.

"My dad wanted me to." Stan told Butters back.

The blonde turned, confused, warily watching Stan's hunched figure in his dad's old blazer and skinny pants.

"My dad," Stan explained, "he always wanted his son to go to senior prom; it was some big thing for him. I mean, we're always careful not to tell him I'm gay or anything in case his condition worsens, but we can't deny the fact that I don't have a girlfriend- or any friends at all for that matter. He wants to see me happy; he thought that would happen if I went to some shitty dance."

"Oh. I hope Mr. Marsh gets better soon, Stan. It can't be easy."

"It's not. And it's even worse when everyone I love keeps telling me not to be so bitter. You know what Kyle keeps saying? He just repeats some stupid shit about how people have to stick by their family. And my dad. I'm not sure if you know him well, but he's not past emotional blackmailing. He won't let me leave, Butters." Stan looked up into Butter's blue eye, almost as if pleading the boy to understand his situation.

"I think I get what you're trying to say, Stan." Butters hedged carefully, not sure if Stan was heading in the general direction of a tearful meltdown or violent outburst.

Before either could happen, Karen swung open the gym doors. "There you are!" She said and froze at the sight of Stan. "Oh, I didn't know you had… uh, company."

"It's okay, Karen." Butters assured her.

"Stan!" Karen shrieked as she realized who the black haired kid was. She ran forward to tackle him. Even with her long silk olive green gown, she could run like a gazelle.

"Oof!" Stan grunted as the girl hugged him, her sleek brown hair in his face. "Okay, Karen, slow down." He laughed, feeling better already then when he'd been alone with Butters.

Since Kyle had left, Kenny had become Stan's go to guy and it was only common that he ended up hanging out with Karen a lot. He considered her like his own little sister and was now feeling ashamed he hadn't taken more of an effort to seek her out. Karen herself had been in a fix since Kenny had left. She was too shy to approach Stan and Stan had his own shit to deal with; the two hadn't ended up talking in a while. Stan was actually surprised she was being so close to him now.

She fixed her intense blue eyes on him, so similar to Kenny that it made Stan miss the blonde boy. As much as he wanted to be Kenny, living with Kyle and sharing his life with the redhead, he was sorry he didn't have his mate to talk to. "Where they hell have you been lost?" She demanded. "I was just on the phone with Kenny yesterday night, talking about how I miss you."

Stan knew through Kyle that the siblings were back in touch, but keeping it secret due to certain implications. "Things are crazy, you know. I'm not the only lost though, clearly." Stan raised an eyebrow. "It's a two way street. You could've talked to me."

"I… didn't want to annoy you, you know? I cried myself to sleep for the entire first year Kenny was gone, and at least I knew you were somewhere out there. I didn't want to talk to you and ruin that possibility." Karen said.

"Dude, I'm not some kind of get-out-of-jail card. You don't just use me up once and I'm gone. I would've been there for you. And actually, kiddo, I'm sorry I wasn't for all that time." Stan was taken aback as the girl threw her arms around him again. For a skinny girl, she sure could squeeze.

"Wow, Karen, are you okay?" Butters asked, feeling wretchedly ignored and concerned.

"I'm completely fine!" She declared, whirling around to face him, a grin lighting up her face. Butters, having spent more time with her than anyone else he could remember (even Cartman), recognized her expression right away.

"Have you been drinking, Karen?" He demanded. He leaned close to her and sniffed, the metallic smell of alcohol instantly clear.

"That's rude!" Karen declared, jerking back.

"But you have been drinking, Karen! How dare you?" Butters asked, looking outraged.

"Some girls were taking shots in the bathroom. So I indulged. Jeez, Butters, calm your tits." Karen shrugged casually.

Stan took a step back, unsure if he should interfere. Watching the two do their awkward little dance reminded Stan of the conflicts that used to happen in his house between his dad and Shelly. Not anymore, of course, now everyone was as careful as possible to avoid upsetting Randy.

"Calm? You expect me to be calm?" Butters sputtered, his face turning red. "I've told you I want you to stay away from drugs."

"It was just a little! Don't you trust me enough?" She yelled back.

"You swore to Kenny you would stay away! Oh, hell, I swore to your brother I would keep you away from drugs!"

"Well, you're not my fucking brother! So fuck off!"

Stan's eyes opened wide as he realized little Karen McCormick had grown up. She didn't clutch her dolly anymore and ask for stories of her guardian angel. She didn't laugh at stupid jokes and do her hair with the juvenile bangs anymore.

"Stop it, the both of you." Stan surprised himself by stepping between the fighting pair. He looked at Karen first. "No, Karen. Butters isn't your brother. Matter of fact, I don't think anyone in the world is more opposite of Kenny then Butters is. But he's been taking care of you and worrying his ass off making sure you're raised the right way, so just try and respect him a bit, seriously."

Stan turned to Butters then, "And do you even know who you're dealing with? This is the sister of Kenneth Fucking McCormick. Nobody can tell this family how to do their thing. And if you've been doing it so far, good for you man. But you can't keep her locked up and try to control her. Let her try her own stuff out. If you've taught her the limit, you've done your best. But if you try to keep her from it, she'll just be more attracted to it."

Stan took a deep breath, feeling proud of himself.

"Just like you're attracted to faggots?" Cartman asked.

All three looked back at the gym doors where Cartman was standing. His heavy frame leaned on the doorsill and his eyes had a mean glint in them. Cartman looked like he'd had a few drinks himself, but more than he could probably handle.

"Eric? What're you doing here?" Butters asked. Stan's fingers curled into fists and he instinctively stepped in front of Karen; she in turn defensively took a step to the side, leaving herself open again.

"What does everyone do in a shithole like South Park? Look for the place they can get a bit wild and pick up a few chicks." Cartman sniggered. "Well, well, well. Looks like you guys got yourself a regular little gangbang out here, huh?"

"Watch it, Cartman." Stan warned.

"Or what?" He narrowed his eyes as he finally recognized Karen. "Hey, you're that poor bastard's sister."

"Don't you dare talk about my family that way," Karen spoke in a firm voice. She knew whatever reason her brother had run away from home involved Cartman; she didn't know exactly what the situation was, but already Karen nursed a grudge against him.

"Or what? You're gonna sell yourself to pay me to keep my mouth shut?"

Then Karen was running before anyone realized and curled her fist, aiming straight for Cartman's face. Contact was forceful and immediately blood spurted from his nose.

He doubled over, his considerable bulk shadowing the ground. "Ow, what the fuck! You psycho bitch!" He clutched at his face.

"You asshole! Why don't you just fuck off and DIE!" Karen screamed, bringing her foot up squarely between Cartman's legs. As he fell over, she continued to kick with her long heels.

"KAREN!" Stan bounded forward and tried to restrain her. For a skinny girl, she had a lot of angry strength, her legs still kicking as she struggled to get free. He held on persistently, and Butters took hold of her flailing arms.

They both managed to get her calm enough to stand still, breathing heavy and staring down at the writhing brunette. She hawked and spit on Cartman, then turned and smoothed down her hair.

"Butters, I'm sorry. Can we go home?" She asked, a hurricane subsiding into a drizzle.

Stan stared in awe as Butters put a hand on her shoulder and guided her back into the gym. He enjoyed the vision of a drunk beaten Cartman for another moment before plunging in after the couple. Stan caught up with them just as they headed out the front entrance.

"Wait, guys! That was brilliant. You totally gave fatass back there hell!" He high-fived Karen, who looked pleased with herself. "Can I get a ride back? I mean, Shelly has strict instructions not to pick me up until midnight and it's only, like, 9 right now."

"Of-of course, Stanley. C'mon with us, we'll probably get something to eat beforehand." Butters said. As he turned on the ignition, a Vampire Weekend CD began blaring.

Butters had a plain little Corolla, but even with that Stan couldn't help but feel a smidge jealous. All the Marsh money was going into the medical expenses for his dad. He wouldn't have a car for a long while, at least not until he got a job. It's not that he hadn't tried; nobody would hire him. The economy was shit and he had no connections or friends. His mom worked extra hours as a reception, and his dad's geology insurance was helping out a bit. Despite that, the family struggled to reach their bills.

Stan understood finally the helplessness Kenny must've felt being poor.

But now Karen seemed to be doing well. She seemed perfectly comfortable as she reached forward to turn on the heat, turn down the volume on the radio, and snapped on her seatbealt. She'd done this before; she finally knew some form of luxury.

Kenny would be so happy.

Almost as if she read Stan's mind, Karen mumbled, "Kenny asked me to call him afterwards. I'll just be a minute."

Kenny jerked awake when he felt his phone buzzing in his jacket pocket. He had unintentionally fallen asleep while trying to study. Persistent techno still emitted from his headphones; one had fallen off and lay on the open notebook. "Fuck." He groaned and shook himself to be alert. His math final was next week and he'd sworn to Kyle he'd try to do well.

Kenny reached for his phone. He grinned when he saw it was Karen. "Hey! How's my angel?"

"Kenny, don't be cheesy," Karen complained but she was smiling. "I'm awesome. We just left Prom; it sucked ass."

"Language, Karen." He scolded.

"Shut up. Listen- we ran into Stan!"

"Literally." Stan muttered from the backseat.

"Stan? Well, tell him I said hi." Kyle Skype'd with Stan nearly every night; Kenny had talked to him plenty. He remembered back when they all had hung out together and been so happy worrying about little things, like whether McDonalds was still serving breakfast or Mr. Garrison was going to give a quiz. Of course back then Cartman hadn't been a murderer.

"Stan, Kenny says hi! Anyway, I'll call you later, okay?" Karen bubbled happily.

"Yeah, cool. Stay safe." Kenny cut the line and focused his attention on Kyle's old iPod, gratuitously given to him. Kenny's life was turning into techno; repetitive and tiring. He paused The Chemical Brothers and stared at the jumble of algebra before him.

Living with Kyle came with consequences apparently. Kenny had to give his honor as a man and friend that he would get a job and stay away from hard drugs, plentiful alcohol, and sex until they had both graduated. The result was a life Kenny had never known, full of light beer and time slotted Pizza Hut work schedules and masturbation. He could almost feel all his charismatic flirting and hard earned sex skills melting off every time he jerked off to porn.

Thinking of his past life was bittersweet. He couldn't stand being so straight-edge, yet he had to admit, he was doing better than ever. He was going to graduate, get a diploma. He had a decent bank account set up and Kyle only asked for a little when he was low on rent. The Jew had his pride: he refused to ask his parents for money.

Now Kenny sighed, deciding a long shower with some definite wanking was in order. Kyle was still out working at the bookstore, Kenny figured he had time. He went to the bathroom and turned on the warm water, staring thoughtfully at the tub where Kyle had washed him that first day. So much had changed since then. Kyle was still same old Kyle but something about him seemed off.

It was that instead of Stan, Kenny had showed up on his doorstep.

Filling the tub with warm water, Kenny slid in and submerged completely, listening to his pulse in his ears. He wondered if Kyle found him attractive. In the past, he hadn't much considered Kyle an option, mostly because he was so far away and Stan had that thing going on with him. But now that he was living with the redhead, maybe he could give him some temporary relief.

He was still in the tub in the cooling water, his long legs uncomfortable and cramped when the front door opened. Kenny didn't notice, so lost in his own thoughts until Kyle burst into the bathroom and lifted the toilet seat, unzipping his pants before realizing Kenny was there.

"Aw, dude! I gotta go!"

Kenny rolled his eyes. "Go."

"Okay, at least close your eyes," Kyle squirmed.

"Nope," Kenny raised an eyebrow, now curious as well as sassy. Despite living together, he still hadn't checked out Kyle's package yet.

"Dude, c'mon! I'll do anything!" Kyle begged jumping foot to foot.

"Anything? Fine, but you owe me one, okay?" Kenny grinned, took a deep breath, and rolled down into the water. A minute later, he emerged spluttering and wheezing. Kyle was just zipping up.

"Did you fucking count that? Pretty sure I just broke all sorts of world records for holding your breath underwater." Kenny declared. He shook his blonde hair so droplets of water flew everywhere and stood up to reach for his towel.

"Hey, how about a warning next time?" Kyle turned around quickly, avoiding looking at Kenny's naked form. He washed his hands and was turning the knob to leave when he felt a warm hand on his neck.

"Why would I warn you? I'm not embarrassed of anything." Kenny whispered softly in his ear, warm breath tingling and raising goosebumps on the back of Kyle's neck.

Kyle froze with his arm outstretched. "I don't- what are you- Kenny?" Kyle stuttered.

"Shh. It's okay if you don't want to talk." Kenny continued to stroke his neck with one hand while the other unzipped his jacket and maneuvered Kyle's hands out of the sleeves. Kyle let himself be handled by the taller boy, not sure what was going on or what his cue to react was. With the jacket on the floor, the cold air hit Kyle and he suppressed a shiver.

In a single move, Kenny turned him around and looked into his eyes. "Kyle, I know you're with Stan in this long-distance whatever it is that you guys do, but it isn't cheating if I'm doing the work, is it?" He asked, his blue eyes shining and filled with desire, nothing but a towel draped around his waist.

Kyle blinked. That seemed to be enough indication for Kenny, who leaned forward and kissed him. Kyle's lips were frozen, but Kenny's tongue probed at his mouth until they parted. Kenny tilted his head for better access, running his hands down the plaid fabric of his shirt. His hands were warm, still moist from the bath, and they felt amazing massaging his body.

Still refusing to respond to the kiss, Kyle closed his eyes and let the feeling wash over him. He could still remember the last kiss he'd had with Stan in his room the night before he moved to New York. This one was better; Kenny wasn't a child; he knew exactly what to do and how to move his mouth. But he couldn't get the image of Stan out of his mind, his dark hair falling over his eyes, the way he pinched the bridge of his nose when he was tense.

Kyle reached out and stilled Kenny's wandering fingers, already at the hem of his pants. He pushed Kenny back by the shoulders. "I'm sorry, I can't."

"What?" Kenny asked breathlessly, pulling away his lips from the redhead.

"I don't think I can do this, Kenny. It isn't that I don't like you or anything, I've always considered you one of my best ever friends, but… I want to wait for Stan. I think I love him, you know? I want him to be the one." Kyle admitted. He thought Kenny would be angry or depressed at being rejected.

Instead, he looked a bit disappointed. "It was a worth a try anyway. When we graduate, Kyle, I'm going to the biggest drunkest orgy you can imagine."

Kyle forced a laugh, but as Kenny turned to finish drying himself, he couldn't deny he was turned on. He thought about Kenny's lips on his own and had the sudden urge to grab him and kiss him again. Kyle frowned.

What the fuck was happening to him?