Michael thought that it was more than a little bit embarrassing to admit that he was... well... lonely, in his new home. Especially after he had so hastily moved away years ago without really explaining himself. He didn’t really see anyone, he was terrible at making new friends, and he didn’t actually want any new ones either. He just missed the goth kids back in South Park...

So when Michael had suggested that Pete should come with him to the city sometime, he had done it in the most casual way he could. In an off handed way he had mentioned a place that served Pete’s favourite food, managing to hook him on the idea to come over. They had agreed on a date and time, and Michael told him he’d drive him there.

      “I do have a feeling that you are trying to say something here.”

He of course knew exactly what he was hinting at though. When Michael did lose his chill, it was not pretty... but insults and rude comments often bounced right off of him. 

Kenny pouts slightly and crosses her arms. Pete looked fucking awful right now. The exhaustion clear to anyone who bothered to look closely at the goth. Where the hell were the other three anyway to stop this boy from staying up to the point he looked like this? True she and Pete were hardly friends or even that close but that didn’t mean Kenny couldn’t be a decent human being and care about the goth’s well being.

Tweek was having a bad time keeping up with classes lately. He’s been absent a few times due to oversleeping thanks to his insomnia gradually getting worse. He had no choice but to go to the student building and get a tutor. 

English was the one he was missing frequently since it was the first class of the day. He had to write a report about his thoughts on social capitalism and how it’s affecting the youth of today it was the only subject available and he had only a week to do it. 

Sweet Sweet Kiss || Accepting

25: Nose kiss lvl 2 - grab it with your mouth

The fight or flight response kicked in, and Pete was just a little bit too forceful with the kitsune when he gave it no option to run away. Yao got it that he wanted him out of sight before his parents saw that he had a weird, two-tailed fox boy in just a t-shirt in his room-- But he hated it when people touched him without his permission. Be it grabbing or restraining him, or just giving him a hug, he couldn’t stand it one bit. 

      “I think I know how to help you with that.”

The comment had been so sudden, it had surely caught Pete off-guard. How would Michael know how to get a hold of those photos? The ones the news papers only just mentioned were found at the crime scenes of the Polaroid Killer.

Weird contacts..? 

Was he going to break into the police station? He guessed that couldn’t be too hard to do... But when Michael told him to get on his motorbike, saying he’d just show him something cool, it called for suspicion. Not that he didn’t trust Michael... right...? It was probably unrelated to that earlier comment. 

Really, how could it be related???

After a bit of driving, Michael got off and covered Pete’s eyes. Nothing all too unfamiliar, they had surely done something like this some other time before in their life. Pete could feel the scenery change, snow below his boots turning to a wooden floor, the air still as if he was inside a building.

Eventually, Michael removed his hands, to reveal that they stood together in a small, simple room, with its walls filled with what appeared to be photo albums. Michael wore... the same expression that he always did, although a slight smile could be seen on his lips. One he’d often carry when Pete and him had a moment together. Just between friends, something personal and special.

      “Take one.”

Yao wasn’t nervous. He was never nervous when he was up on stage. One would think that the crowd would be overwhelming, the booming music would make him anxious, or that the people moving around him would trip him up... But for once, the pretty clumsy boy was perfectly confident.

On the scene, he knew everything that was going to happen. It was like reading a speech, it was really no problem as long as he knew what to say. And unlike keeping speeches in his head, which he found really difficult... Dancing wasn’t. The rehearsals kept him aware of what he could expect, and if everything just went the way it should... That scene could turn into his own world. The one place where he felt like he was in full control of himself and his environment.