A/N: More Ken and Ky yey
Enjoy~
Walking up to CartAd Agencies was always a little intimidating for Kenny. Even though the building was maybe half the size of his center, it was an actual business. Of course, behind the scenes at his own project was nothing but paperwork, but here, the entire company was said paperwork. It certainly gave him an appreciation for those lazy days at the center where he spent it all talking out problems with kids, meeting with parents and explaining how they'd keep their children safe, and those rare days when he'd step into a basketball game with the lot of them.
Kyle was absolutely right: The kids there loved him. Despite the fact that their 'community' was built on what could only be described as misery, they were a stronghold, bonded by their misfortune. He was someone that they always came to when they needed help. They relied on him in ways that they'd been afraid to do with anyone else, knowing well enough that any potential sympathizer could easily turn on them in an instant. Not with Kenny, though. They'd looked to him as a father figure for years, knowing that out of everyone else in the world, he was the one person who wouldn't judge them for their ailments, but work on the solution. It was something that helped them come back day after day as opposed to getting into dire situations as was a common theme with children in their predicament, and was something that gave Kenny that boost when things started getting to him from a combination of life and watching these kids struggle.
Ken clutched the folders in his hand a little tighter, biting his lip. That's why this was so important. Not only to him, but to Kyle as well. Kyle had helped him with enough events throughout the years trying to raise awareness of the situation to know that these kids couldn't go without. Life was already handing them a half-emptied deck, the two of them would be damned before letting them lose any more cards if they could prevent it.
The blonde took a deep breath, straightening himself out as he approached the glass doors with the simple red logo printed on each pane. He turned to the right, seeing a card reader and a small intercom and clearing his throat, pressing the worn ivory button.
"Can I help you?" a dry voice asked.
He pressed the button again, "I have an appointment with Kyle Broflovski."
A few moments passed before it went through again, "Name?"
"Ken McCormick."
"Full name?" the man on the other end pressed.
Kenny rolled his eyes, "Kenneth McCormick."
The door's locks snapped with a soft click reverberating through the metal handles and he sighed, whipping open the heavy first set and pushing his way through the second. He nearly jolted back at the smell of what he could only describe as crisp paper fresh from the ream. It was so staunch and yet so subtle, a complete mismatch from the usual scent he endured day after day of Pine-sol on the arena floor and musty donated clothes. He licked his lips, stepping up to the security window to the side. Glancing up, he looked to see a man sitting behind the glass looking absolutely done with life. "I'll need to see ID," he reported dully.
"Right," Ken nodded, setting his folders on the countertop and ripping out his wallet, handing him his license. The man turned to quickly type into his computer as Kenny filled out the sign-in sheet, shaking his head to himself. Cartman always went a little too far with this. Given, he was grateful enough to know he wouldn't be sitting at home and see on the news that the agency had been shot up and a very tired controller happened to be on the list of fatalities. It made it just a bit more reasonable when he peered through that concept.
"Here you are, Mr. McCormick," the man said, sliding him his license and a visitor pass. "Hook that on your beltline," he instructed, watching as Kenny did so, the bright red pass standing out starkly against his faded jeans.
Kenny nodded, "Thanks. Can uh... can you remind me where Kyle's office is?" he winced. He'd only been in the building twice before, only once going to his friend's office. The hallways filled with rooms were a little daunting for him to say the least.
The man smirked a little, pointing down the way. "Okay, see the cubicles?"
"Yeah?" he blinked, following his hand.
"Go all the way to the end of them, you'll see the processing office. Take a left up the staircase and go straight down the hall. You'll pass one door a little way up on the left, that's his assistant's office. Mr. Broflovski's is right past it on the right."
"Thanks," he said gratefully, grabbing his papers and heading down the instructed way. He glanced at a number of cubicles as he passed, noting the exhausted faces and the properly pressed clothing. He shied down a bit, noting his own worn t-shirt with his center's logo on the front. He was a fish out of water in a place like this, and damn did he feel it. He'd been curious about an office job a year before he'd opened his place, but watching Kyle's will to live whittling down and how he wanted to use his tie as a noose at the end of every day, he'd been convinced otherwise. Especially with the redhead begging him not to consider it, knowing Kenny well enough to know that he'd never be able to cope with the absolute boredom.
Ken turned and headed up the steps, catching glances with a slouched woman with thick glasses who scoffed and rolled her eyes. His ears perked at her voice as he ascended up the way, "Another half-assed charity for us to deal with," she muttered aloud to her office partner. Kenny scowled before straightening himself up and hopping up the rest of the carpeted steps.
He glanced down the long hallway, looking to see Butters' door wide and open, peeking in a bit. Butters caught the movement, trained well enough to know that keen observation was required when working the same floor as Kyle and Cartman. Either one of them was liable to snap if they were having a bad day and he was lost in his own world. "Hey, Kenny!" he greeted excitedly.
"Hey," he nodded back.
"Here t' see Kyle?"
He nodded once more, "Yep. The fuck are you doin'?"
Butters shrugged sheepishly, "Organizin', same as usual. Kyle has me lookin' through old contracts t' shred."
"Fun," he cocked his brow. "You keep on keepin' on," he said, stepping away from the door and continuing down the hall, ignoring Butters cheerfully waving his goodbyes.
He licked his lips, stepping up to the slightly ajar door with Kyle's name proudly proclaimed in golden plating and glanced into the glass window beside the way, seeing Kyle staring at papers and his phone. "No, I don't have that," Kyle said tiredly, rubbing his temple as someone on the other line yammered on. He caught the movement of Kenny waiting outside, body relaxing and a soft apologetic smile spreading on his face, waving him inside.
Ken stepped into the room, silently shutting the door and heading over, cocking his brow at the agitated voice over the speaker. "Mr. Broflovski, we made this decision months ago."
"Look, I'm staring at your contract right now," he said firmly. "It's the only contract we forged and you agreed to allow us twenty percent of your allocation." He glanced up and mouthed an 'I'm so sorry' to Kenny who smirked, waving him off and sitting in the chair on the other side of his desk.
"We agreed to ten percent!"
Kyle rolled his eyes, "None of our clients have such a low percentage taken out, that wouldn't cover our expenses in the least. Our lowest is fifteen."
"Then it was fifteen!" the angry woman demanded.
The redhead gritted his teeth, fist clenching and rapping quietly against a leather-bound folder. "Look, Ma'am, I'm going to be honest here: I don't have time for this. Not when you have an exact copy of your contract. Your boss was sitting in here when my assistant made the copy. If you still have concerns, I can transfer you to my assistant and you can make an appointment to discuss this further, but I have another meeting that I need to be taking care of right now."
The woman paused before huffing a few times, "I doubt your boss would be so okay with you talking to a paying client like this!"
Kyle scoffed, "You wanna talk to my boss? Because I can transfer you to him, too. And I guarantee you that he's going to be a lot more curt than I am. Especially if you're here wasting my time. He doesn't look too kindly on me being taken away from my current business," he drawled. Kenny put his hand over his mouth to hold back a snicker, shaking with laughter and getting an amused smirk out of the frustrated redhead.
"Fine. Let me talk to your boss, we'll see if you still have a job by the end of this, Mr. Broflovski."
"My pleasure, Ma'am," he laid on a thick, sweet tone and slammed his finger into the 'call waiting' button, sighing tiredly and looking at Kenny with a small snort. "I love how these fuckers think I'm as expendable as a cashier."
"Right?" Kenny cocked his brow.
Kyle shook his head, punching in an extension and clearing up the contracts, stuffing them back into their folders. "What, Jew?" Cartman answered in annoyance.
"I have a fucking client that's trying to weasel you out of an extra ten percent," he said dryly. "Cunt won't listen to me, so she wants to talk to you and get me fired."
Cartman snorted, "Jesus fucking Christ there's always someone. Yeah, I'll take care of the bitch."
"I'll send Butters with the contract," he informed him. "She's on line three. I'd suggest making her wait a good ten or so minutes before giving her the pleasure of your conversation, Fatass."
"I would disagree, but I'm not to fond of my own time being wasted, so I can waste hers for a bit. Thanks, Jew," he said simply, hanging up his end.
Kyle sighed and laughed to himself tiredly, "I'm sorry, Ken," he said earnestly, pressing his paging button for Butters' office.
Kenny waved off the notion, "Dude, you're totally fine. You managing to eek me in at all is a fucking miracle, I can take the entertainment with it."
He chuckled quietly, "Glad you find it entertaining. To me it's just a waste of my time and patience." He glanced over as Butters knocked on the door, pressing a button next to his computer and the lock on the barrier clicking open. The blonde rushed inside and cocked his head.
"Ya need more files done?" he asked.
"Nah, what I gave ya will take the rest of the day at least. I just need you to run this up to Fatass," he said, handing him the folder.
"O-kay!" he said cheerfully, grasping the material and turning on his heel, hurrying back out and shutting the door carefully behind him.
Kyle shook his head and rolled his eyes, "At least he's eager to work, I guess. Don't get that too often in a place like this."
Kenny watched him with a small, sad smile, "You talk to Cartman about gettin' him trained?"
The redhead nodded, "He said he'd look at the schedule and the budget and consider it. If we get him trained, we'll have to increase his pay and compensate for his classes. It'll be a little bit of a stretch... But he agrees that it's better to have two of us able to handle at least the basics," he shrugged.
The blonde smirked, "To be honest, I'm surprised he'd even consider it. Business is changing that fat piece of shit."
Kyle scoffed, "No, Ken, it isn't. This wouldn't be for my benefit. This is so he doesn't have to deal with me 'breaking down and setting the building on fire'," he quoted their morning discussion with an eye roll. He sighed, "Whatever, though. If it gets me a few minutes a day to breath, then so be it." He glanced at the folders in Kenny's hands, "All right, let's see whatcha got," he held out his hand.
Kenny slapped the folders down into his palm, watching as Kyle opened the manilla at the top, not even glancing to his side as he mechanically moved to grab a styrofoam cup from the top of his desk and set up his Kuerig to fill it. Ken smirked, "Hopefully Bebe got everything you needed."
Kyle slammed down the top compartment of the coffee maker, pressing the button and nodding as he scanned over the papers in his hand. "Well I hope so, too..." he paused and sighed, moving to look at the folder underneath and shaking his head. "Dammit, Bebe," he murmured.
"What?" Kenny cocked his head.
"Oh, she's just... not very organized," he said sheepishly. "Everything's out of order."
Kenny winced, "Okay, that's not her, that's me. I kinda...dropped the folders in the truck."
"Smooth," Kyle laughed. He grabbed the cup as it finished filling, placing it on the desk in front of Kenny. He backed his chair up and snagged his creamer from the fridge hiding under his desk, sliding it up beside as he continued sorting.
Ken watched him curiously as he moved his chair back to a file cabinet behind him, ripping open a drawer and trifling through. His jaw dropped a bit, the elongated compartment filled with at least a hundred differently labeled folders. "Jesus," he muttered, grabbing a stirrer from the cup by Kyle's monitor and slowly mixing his concoction.
"What?" Kyle asked, continuing to look through without sparing him a glance.
"So many damn files," he chuckled.
Kyle smirked, "Dude, every single drawer in this room is filled like this, plus another three cabinets in Butters' office. There's a reason I'm always so busy, Man."
He nodded, taking a sip of his coffee, wincing at the sharp bite of heat against his tongue. "No fuckin' wonder."
"Ah ha," Kyle exclaimed, ripping out a large folder and placing it on his lap. He kicked the drawer closed, riding the momentum backwards and swinging his chair to land back in place.
Ken licked over his lips, watching him tearing out various papers, "So... what exactly are you lookin' for?"
He set his lips and looked up at him over the rims of his glasses. "The numbers you guys showed me, the more I was thinking about them, the weirder they seemed."
He leaned back, taking another sip, "How so?" Kyle paused, sitting up and taking his own mug and taking a long swig of now-tepid coffee. Ken grinned childishly, "Aww, you're usin' the mug I got you," he cooed.
Kyle rolled his eyes amusedly, "Only mug I use here, Homo. Feel special."
"I'm honored," he placed his hand against his chest and fluttered his lashes playfully.
The smirk fell from Kyle's face and he sighed. "When I called you last night to tell you to grab this stuff... It's because I was remembering entering the money for your account. I can't remember the total off the top of my head," he gestured to his files, "But I do remember thinking that you guys had done great," he emphasized. "Hell, I was fucking proud of you. No offense, but with the numbers you showed me, I probably would have called you and offered to rework your contract to get them up, because where they stand is fucking abysmal."
Kenny nodded, "Don't have t' tell me twice. The kids are askin' about doin' another field day like we did last year and I dunno how to tell 'em it probably ain't gonna happen."
He frowned, going back to flipping through pages, "Kenny, I told you I'd help with that."
"No, you promised to help keep us open," he reminded him firmly. "Kyle, you ain't gonna fund all our damn projects. I won't let you."
He scoffed, "Fuck you, it's charity. Not like I'm helping you buy the kids goddamn cigarettes."
The blonde chuckled, "Well you'd smoke 'em all first anyway."
Kyle shrugged, "Remember who fucking started me on smoking?"
"Remember how I stopped chain smoking and you picked up my slack?" he teased.
"Fuck you," he repeated. "I deserve to get lung cancer if I damn well please." Kenny just laughed quietly as he snagged a paper from his folder, looking it over and grasping one of Kenny's narrowing his eyes. "What the..."
Ken stopped abruptly, watching his face falling and gulping. "Ky?" he asked softly.
Kyle ignored him, quickly moving to wriggle his mouse and bring his sleeping computer back to life, rapidly scanning through folders and licking over his lips. "Something here isn't right," he murmured, eyes flickering about. Kenny scooted his chair up closer to his desk, watching the redhead working and feeling his stomach settling uneasily. Kyle looked far too concerned for his tastes. The redhead popped his lips, pulling up the file he was searching for, eyes moving between the screen and the two papers laid out before him, face falling even further. "How the living fuck..." he said, scratching through his hair.
"What is it?" Kenny insisted.
Kyle looked at him, pure worry glazing his green eyes. "Ken... that's not the amount I sent you," he said quietly.
Kenny jerked back a bit, narrowing his eyes. "What?"
He turned his screen to angle for both him and Kenny to see, both of them readjusting to read over the numbers. "See?" he asked, grabbing a pen and pointing to his sums line with the cap. "I sent you out this amount this month, and Bebe's records indicate that you got about a thousand less than that..." he bit his lip, pulling up another file and clicking on it as he grabbed Bebe's ledger. He quickly compared the two and gritted his teeth worriedly, "It's the same with last month," he confirmed.
"Maybe it was a mistype on someone's end?" Kenny blinked.
Kyle twisted his lips, "Look, my numbers are directly copied from the bank statement. And if Bebe was looking to find where an error was made, she'd be checking to make sure it wasn't a typo before anything else... What the fuck," he repeated.
"But...where's the money going then?" Ken asked nervously.
The younger glanced at him, clearing his throat. "Ken... Did you keep it like I told you where only you can access your funds?"
He nodded briskly, "Yeah. You don't... you don't think Bebe stole it, do you?"
"Of course not!" he insisted. "But, this money has to be going somewhere..." Kyle sighed, shaking his head. "We work with you through the Savings and Loans downtown, right?"
Ken looked up thoughtfully, "Uh, yeah."
He nodded, punching in a few quick numbers onto his phone while Kenny watched with a cocked head. Kyle caught his confused stare and snorted, "I call the bank so fucking much I need them on speed dial."
He smirked a bit sadly, watching Kyle pulling up papers and snagging a pen from beside him. "Betcha can't even remember your parents' number that well," he chuckled.
"Sure I do. It's called hitting 'Mom and Dad' on my cell," he rolled his eyes, looking down as the phone picked up.
"South Park Savings and Loans."
"Hi, this is Kyle Broflovski with CartAd Agencies."
"One moment, Mr. Broflovski," the man said, music starting up right away.
Kenny narrowed his eyes, "Dude, they put you on hold already?"
He chuckled, "They know when I call I need to talk to Anna. She's the bank bae."
He sputtered with laughter, "Fucking what?"
Kyle joined him and shrugged, "Look, you find ways in this business to amuse yourself less you blow your goddamn brains out. And sometimes you're on hold for ten minutes with your damn thoughts, and before you know it, you're giving the people in your life fucking nicknames."
Kenny raised his brow amusedly, "And what's mine?"
He smirked, "I'm gonna just go with Sam's suggestion and call you Dickhead."
"Clever," he chortled. "Kid's lucky she's cute, she can get away with that. You however-"
"Get away with it even more because I'm downright fucking adorable," he teased, batting his lashes and sending Kenny into nearly choking on his coffee.
"Hi, Kyle," the line picked up as Kenny tried to calm himself down.
"Hey, Anna," he greeted, watching Kenny amusedly. "I need some confirmation on something."
She chuckled, "And I'm not surprised. Whatcha need?"
He looked down at his statement, clicking his tongue. "Okay, we made a deposit on the third of this month for the Homeless Youth Center. Can you double check the numbers for me?"
"Gimme just a sec," she said, the men hearing her typing away and looking at each other, the air becoming thick for a brief moment with anticipation. "Okay I'm seeing a deposit of $3,140.87. Sound about right?"
Kyle bit his lip, nodding slowly. "Yeah, matches up. Thanks, Anna."
"No problem. Anything else?"
"Nah, I'm sure I'll talk to you later on this week," he smirked lightly. "Bye, thanks again."
"Talk to you, later, Kyle," she said cheerfully before hanging up the phone.
Kyle sighed, scratching his hair as he hung up his end. "The numbers match what I sent, Ken," he said quietly, pointing to his totals. "So someone is dipping into your funds..." he stared at the blonde in concern. "All right, I'm gonna ask you this as a friend, not as a damn business partner."
Kenny nodded slowly, "Okay?"
He bit his lip softly, "Kenny, are you sure you didn't take the money to use for something?"
"KYLE!" he snapped, the redhead recoiling back.
"Ken, I didn't mean like 'did you go buy alcohol or something with it'," he explained hurriedly. "I meant did you take some of the money to... Buy a new table or hire new staff and just kinda blanked on it," he winced.
He frowned, "Kyle, I don't do anything without talking to Bebe, or hell, you about it first, Dude."
He cringed, "Kenny, I'm sorry, that came out wrong okay? I know you wouldn't steal from the center, I'm just really lost... Because I'm gonna be straight with you. If the money is going into the account as specified, it comes down to one of three people fucking it up: You, me, or Bebe," he said softly.
Kenny narrowed his eyes, "Look, none of us would sink this fucking low."
"I know," he said tiredly, rubbing his eyes under his lenses. "Ken, I'm not fucking accusing anyone, I'm just going at this logically."
His shoulders sank and he sighed, "I know. But... Fuckin' shit, Ky. This doesn't make any sense," he said miserably.
Kyle watched him sympathetically and nodded, "I know, Dude. I know. Look, I promise I'll figure out what's been happening, all right? Right now, all I can do is offer you the difference missing from the account."
He snapped his eyes up and glared at him, "Kyle, no."
"Kyle, yes," he retorted, moving over to shuffle through his workbag. "Ken, I might be the reason this thing is happening, and it's not fair to you or the kids to have this discrepancy, all right?"
Kenny bit his lips, watching Kyle throw his checkbook down onto his desk. "Ky-"
"Shut the fuck up, I made up my mind," he said sharply. "Want it to you or the center?"
"I don't want-"
"Look," he snapped. "Either you take it or I'm driving over to give it to Bebe. Either way, you're getting the fucking money."
They stared at each other for a few minutes before Kenny sank in his seat with a sigh. "Fine. The center I guess." Kyle nodded, quickly scribbling down the check and shaking his head.
"I can't give you all six thousand," he said quietly, "Still have to feed myself and whatnot."
"Kyle," he groaned, pinching his nose. "Please don't-" he stopped as a check flew up in his face, taking it with shaking fingers and eyes widening. "Ky, Jesus fucking Christ this is four thousand fucking dollars."
He rolled his eyes, "Ken, I have plenty still stashed for my bills and shit. Besides, I can write it off on my taxes," he smiled sadly. "Please just take the money. I'll see if I can figure out where the hell the money is going between the bank and your account, all right?"
Kenny sighed, folding up the check and sticking it in his wallet. "This is so much for you to do, Dude. You already have your plate full."
"Guess this is dessert," he shrugged listlessly. "Look, Ken, this is my job, all right? This is what I'm here to do. We'll figure it out and we'll get the kids their field day, okay?"
Kenny smiled meekly and nodded. "Sorry to add more shit for you to deal with."
He smirked and shrugged again, "Well, at least you're one of my least troublesome clients. Talking with you doesn't make me wanna jump out the window."
The blonde snorted, "Glad to be so up there on your roster."
"You should be," he cocked his brow. "You're one of the few that I don't want to strangle at every given moment. You have your days but it's not a constant goddamn war with you."
"I try," he winked. He glanced at his watch and sighed, "I'm sure you have another meeting about now."
Kyle took a look at the clock and nodded, "Yeah, pretty soon. You gonna be okay, Dude?"
"Me?" he chuckled. "Are you?"
He smiled softly, "Yeah, I'm fine. Yesterday really helped me calm down a good deal. It'll be a while before I hit another backslide unless things start piling out of nowhere again."
He shot him another wink, "Well you call me if that happens and I'll rescue you from this bullshit again."
"You don't have to be my knight," he rolled his eyes amusedly.
"Just as much for me as it is you," he laughed, finishing off his coffee and tossing it into Kyle's wastebasket. "I love my job but I like taking some afternoons off to fuck around with you. Way better than counting cans of green beans."
Kyle leaned his head into his palm and smirked, "Thanks. Good to know I'm more intriguing than stationary produce." Kenny got up to his feet and Kyle sighed, "Can I keep your guys' ledgers for a few days? Just to keep my numbers on the right track?"
"Dude, you keep whatever you need," he assured him. "Just gimme a call if you need something else."
He smiled, "Will do. I'll keep you updated."
"You're a lifesaver, Man. Thanks, I'll talk to ya later," he grinned brilliantly, turning on his heel and heading out of the office. The both of them looked down as soon as the other was out of sight, biting their lips worriedly and one resounding thought seemed all too pertinent between them both: 'Something here just isn't right.'
A/N: Business is so exciting wow pft
Thanks for R&Ring!