So I watched 6 hours of South Park yesturday. I had an awful day, and that made it very good :)

shoutout to my superbestfriend if she is still reading this: I'm sorry. :( And I hope you like the name of this chapter, because you are the only one that would be able to understand it ;) AND THE KYLE THING IS NOT RELATED TO ME, SUPER BEST FRIEND! DON'T WORRY, i stopped, and I promise!

And I've been really depressed lately, so some nice reviews would make me happy.!

IMPORTANT: ITALLICS MEAN FLASHBACK!

Kenny's POV

"So are you ever going to contact your parents?" I ask Butters. I'm in his bed, he's on the floor in a sleeping bag. I wish he would come up with me, but I'm not forcing him. The lights are out, the time is midnight, and his grandmother is long asleep.

"Well, I want to talk to Mom, ya know? I'm not sure I'm ready to talk to Dad, yet, at least. I hate him Ken. I really do."

"Ya, I never thought of that. You should call your Mom. I'm sure she would care. Maybe she could kick your dad out, and let you move in?"

"Maybe. I could tomorrow, if you're there to hold my hand."

"Most definatly," I smile.

It may seem that Butters is the one who loves me more, but I honestly think I love him more then he loves me. It's not a bad thing, it's just that I really fucking love him. He's so amazing, so perfect. Even though he has tons of flaws, it doesn't matter. Even though his dad is abusive, and my parents are pot-heads, it doesn't matter. As long as I can be with him, and he can be with me, everything is fine. As long as I can hold him in my arms, and tell him everything will be okay. As long as he whacks my playfully when I'm a pervert, and giggles when I make a remark, I will be happy. Just because I love him, and he loves me.

"Are you, are you happy, Butters?" I ask him after a few moments of comfortable silence.

"Well what do ya mean, Kenny?"

"Like, I know your Dad is awful and stuff. I know you haven't had an easy life, but right now, are you happy?"

"Well whenever I'm with you, I'm happy, if that's what ya mean. But I mean, I aint the happiest person ever. Nobody can ever be so happy that nothing happens. But I don't want a perfect life. I don't need everything, just enough to keep me happy for a bit. All I need is you."

"You're so smart. I love you."

Even though I cannot see him in the dark, I know he's blushing. I know he's smiling while biting his lip. I know he is all happy inside, because it's Butters.

I sit up, and hop off the bed. I go over to where Butters is laying a few feet away, and kneel down. I put my arms on both sides of his head, bend down and kiss him. Not too long, not too hard. Just a simple kiss. As soon as it's over, I get up and walk back to my bed. I love making him blush.

"I love you too, Kenny," he tells me, and I too blush. Nobody has ever been able to make be blush. No girls have been able to make me blush by a kiss, a comment or even a blowjob. Never. But here I am, blushing like a tennage girl getting her first boyfriend. Instead, I'm a teenage boy getting my first boyfriend.

After laying there in a loving kind of silence for a long time, I figure Butters fell asleep. I roll over to the side of the wall, leaving a huge space by myself. I pretend to myself that Butters is laying right next to me, and I try to sleep. I try to sleep for quite awhile, actually, but it's unsuccessful. As soon as I've almost given up hope, I feel something get up next to me. I wonder what it is for a bit, and think to myself do they have a cat? but then I realise, it's Butters.

"Hey," I whisper to him to see if he's just sleep walking.

"Hi," he whispers back, and I know he actually wants to be up here with me.

I wrap my arm around him, and snuggle up close. He does the same. I nuzzle my head into his neck, and soon find myself drifting off to sleep.

Kyle's POV

Somehow, I find myself sleeping over at Stan's house. Neither of us planned on it, it just happened. By the time I realised how late it was, I didn't want to go home. I didn't want to walk in to angry parents wondering where I was, and why I didn't call. I didn't want to tell them that I had been at Stan's house. But here I am, about to face my punishment for staying out, and refusing to tell them where I was.

"Dude, you should just stay over," a tired Stan tells me. We're both sitting on his bed, legs crossed, facing each-other.

"Yeah but Mom will be pissed."

"She would be pissed now, anyway. It's better you have a good time. She will be equally pissed, dude."

"Fine. You don't mind?"

"No. You're my super best boyfriend, of course I don't mind."

I blush, and he smiles.

"Will your parents mind?"

"They love you. They won't mind!"

"Okay, I'll stay."

"Yes!" Stan laughs and does a pathetic victory dance. He's obviously a little too happy

Stan gets up and walks over to his dresser, pulling out two pairs of Terrance & Phillip pajamas.

"Dude, you still have those?" I ask.

"Of course. They still fit. I'm not throwing them out!"

I laugh, and he throws a pair over at me. I walk over to the bathroom to change, and brush my teeth with what I assume is his toothbrush.

"Can I come in?" Stan asks from the other side of the closed door.

"Yeah, sure dude, come on in," I answer.

Stan opens the door, and grabs the toothbrush I just used. I mentally high-five myself, for using the right tooth-brush. I wouldn't want to use his mom's or sister's. That'd be gross. He brushes his teeth, and I just stand behind him, watching him in the mirror.

Once he finishes we both walk back to his room, both knowing that the next moment is going to be awkward: deciding where to sleep.

Once we walk in, we both just kinda stand there, both not knowing what to say.

"So, uh, you pick," I say, hoping he knows what I mean. I don't care if I sleep on the floor or in his bed, with him. We're still best friends, so it shouldn't be too weird.

"Uh, you wana just sleep in my bed, you know, with me?" Stan asks, slightly stuttering. He usually isn't this awkward when it comes to these things. It surprising.

"Yeah, sure," I say, "dude, I don't want this to be awkward, because it shouldn't be. I honestly don't care, because we're still best friends," I explain.

"Yea, I guess," he says. He tries to sound like it's no big deal, but I can tell he's forcing it to sound like that.

I walk over to his bed, and he follows. I get in first, and pat the side next to me, signaling for him to get in. First, he goes over and turns the light out and stands there for a moment letting his eyes ajust to the darkness. He walks over, and gets in next to me, laying close. He lays there for a minute, and then seems frustrated, rolling over. He isn't comfortable, and I can tell he won't be able to sleep easily.

For a second, I comtemplate getting out and sleeping on the floor to make him more comfortable. I quickly refuse that thought, and decide on something else. I wait until he rolls over again, and wrap an arm around him, getting closer. I can picture how gay it would look, and it is. It's supposed to, because we are. He snuggles back closer, and holds my hand wrapped around him. Soon enough, I can tell he's asleep, he stops moving.

I can hear him breathing, and it soothes me. My arm is still around him, and we're closer then normally. I try and sleep, nuzzling my head into his back, but I can't. I concentrate on the sound of his breathing, and soon fall into a sleep.

When we wake up, we are still just as close as the night before, but we're facing each-other, and his arm is wrapped around me, and mine was wrapped around his. Our foreheads were pressed together, too. I was the first one to wake up, being used to getting up early. I poke my head up, looking over at his alarm clock. It's 8:30am. I go back to the position I was just in, and put my forehead back to his. I push it foreward a bit, trying to wake him up.

"Stan," I whisper.

"Mmmmhm?" Stan mumbles, still half-asleep.

"Wake up, sleepy head," I whisper again.

His eyes open fully, and he smiles. He notices how close we are, and smiles wider. His eyelids fall back down, and he snuggles closer. It's so comfortable and nice being with him like this, but I know I have to get home. Maybe Mom and Dad would be gone, and I would have a little bit of time to myself.

To my unhapiness, I sit up, but not before kissing Stan on the forehead. He stays there, probably falling back asleep. Quietly, I go get changed and gather all my stuff.

"Stan!" I whisper loudly, trying to wake him. "I'm going to go home, you can go back to sleep. Thanks for letting me stay. Text me later," I tell him. He is now sitting up, and looks sad that I have to leave, but thankful that he can sleep again.

"Bye," he whispers and hugs me gently. After we pull apart, I kiss his cheek and get up, leaving. Nobody is downstairs, they're probably all asleep. I walk out the door, into the cold, morning air. I head home, afraid of what will happen next.

"Kyle, Kyle, Kyle," Dad repeats. He isn't happy that I never came home last night. He is angry that I won't tell him where I was.

"Dad, I'm sorry. I wish I had called. But I'm not telling you where I was. Just go ahead, give me my punishment already," I say.

"Your laptop. Go get it," he tells me. I follow his orders and go get it, bringing it down, setting it in front of him on the kitchen table.

"You can't use it for a week, unless it's homework. And if it is, I have to watch you," he seems like he doesn't want to punish me, but I ignore it. All I can think of is that I'd much rather receive a punishment from Dad them Mom.

"Fine," I say, but am interrupted by heavy, angry footsteps coming from the staircase.

"KYLE! IS THAT YOU?" a furious mother yells.

"Yes, Mom, it's me," I give up. I know I'm going to get in more trouble then I imagined.

"Don't even try to explain. I know you were probably out with Stan, fucking around or something," she is furious, and I am furious at her. "Kyle, you are in so much trouble. You are never aloud in his house again. You hear me?"

"Yes, Mom," I sigh.

"And this," she says, picking up my laptop, "is now mine. You are never to use it again."

I sigh, nod, and head up to my room. I know I can never go there again. Mom would give me the worst punishment she could possibly think of. I don't want to be banned to see Stan, that would be awful.

I know I am about to do something awful again. I know that I shouldn't, but I can't help it. Sure, being with Stan is amazing, but the consequences suck. I dig around in my drawers, and find a pair of scissors.

I place it atop my wrist, and push, letting the blood trickle out. I grab a face-cloth, and hold it above the mark I just made.

So, Kyle cut himself again. BAD KYLE! Opinions?