WritingSP

The sky was lit with orange and pink streaks in the clouds, sun settling at the horizon in a display of gold. It was beautiful. Each puff that made a cloud basked in the light that drenched it. In the pond, a reflection of deep, vivid color rallied against the gentle waves. Kenny watched the splendor with a smile, eyes taking in every bit of motion and every detail that changed with the seconds.

He felt a shoulder knock against his gently and turned to the black-haired man beside him. His smile stayed, widening as Stan gave his own. He looked perfect then, with a light grin and ruffled black hair, shirt wrinkled with the day’s activities.-Stan didn’t have to do much to look perfect, he just was.

“What?” The question was for him, the other looking back at his dazed expression.

“Nothing,” Kenny explained, turning away to look at the sky once more.

A hand met his, fingers weaving between his, palm pressing against the back of his hand. He squeezed against them lightly, rumpling the blanket on which they sat. He paid it no mind as he continued to watch the sky as it darkened.

The wind swept over them, And he caught Stan staring out of the corner of his eye. He looked back, and their eyes met. “What?” It was his turn to ask.

“Your hair looks wild in this light,” Stan remarked with a laugh.

Kenny patted his locks, “My hair’s fine.”

“Don’t worry,” Stan added, pulling Ken’s hand off his head. “It makes you look cute.”

“It does?” Kenny questioned, unsure.

A movement caught his eye, Stan coming closer. He turned again in time to catch the other’s lips with his own. Stan pressed forward and he did the same, breathing through his nose as the kiss grew longer. His heart sped with the implications, tongue pressing forward. Stan opened for him, and he entered more assuredly.

They broke for air, Stan coughing lightly. His lips were puffed from the kiss, and Kenny stared. “You’re cute too,” he said, “sometimes.”

Stan pushed him lightly, before kissing him once more.

His body pressed forward, and Stan’s hand unlinked with his. It prodded at his jacket, pulling at the zipper. He helped it, pulling it open and shrugging it off. His eyes closed as he swung it somewhere behind him.

Stan’s mouth was warm, and he could feel himself getting hot beneath his skin. The cool of the outside met against it and his skin prickled in confusion. Stan’s tongue met his and he licked over the smooth muscle, mouth tingling. His hands reached for Stan’s torso, pulling at the other’s coat zipper. It didn’t take long to take off, Stan helping him in the end. His head turned in the kiss, sloppily disconnecting and reconnecting it in a fever.

Kenny broke the kiss this time, “Are you sure?” he asked, eyes taking in the lack of presences of Stark’s Pond.

“Yeah,” Stan responded. “Unless you want to wait until we get home.”

“Fuck that,” Kenny stated.

He crossed his arms at the hem of his shirt, picking it up and over his head easily. As the kiss was interrupted Stan groaned. “Mm,” he sounded in response, smiling, fingers edging the fabric of Stan’s shirt. Stan took it off in response. Kenny watched his muscles move as he threw the shirt over to the side, they slid from side to side under Stan’s skin, and he itched to kiss him again.

He did, pushing forward once more. His legs moved up, one crossing over Stan’s so he could settle in the other’s lap. Once there, he threaded his fingers through the ruffled hair, pushing it back gently. His fingers tightened on the ends as Stan moaned, mouth vibrating against his. Breaking the kiss, his heart pounded at his chest like it was trying to escape. “Stan…” he started, feeling the other’s hardening in response. “You’re kinky tonight.” he commented. He rubbed against it with his lower half, moaning loudly as he felt his arousal start to harden-nerves twinging as they asked for attention.

His hands found Stan’s shoulders and with them he pushed Stan onto his back. Stan gave him a lingering smile, his hands rising to rub up Kenny’s torso lovingly. Kenny took advantage, taking the roaming hands, and driving them down with his own. He gasped as they rubbed just above the edging of his jeans, the chill of the cold of his hands meeting the warmth of the area. His skin prickled there, a burn of want running downward to harden in his cock. He grinded the area against Stan’s, “Ah!”

Stan took the hint, helping him to unbutton his jeans. He sighed when he felt the release from the tightness around his waist, taking the chance to undo Stan’s jeans as well.

Stan exhaled, “Take them off,” he demanded, voice deep. He pulled at the waistband of Kenny’s boxer shorts impatiently.

Kenny smirked, “Not yet,” he whispered, leaning down to peck Stan’s lips. His hands ran up the other, grasping Stan’s head from either side as he kissed him again. With feeling, he pushed inside the other’s mouth, dominating for a moment. His body grinded all the while, hips gyrating against Stan’s.

His body was swept by a wave a joy and enthusiasm alike. His lips turned upwards as Stan pushed him back, tongue pressing his back. Hands on his hips controlled his movements now, and he followed their commands easily. His eyes closed momentarily, losing himself in the feeling.

Breathing was made difficult as he was moved against the other. It hitched, and he became breathless suddenly. Nerves made his body tremble, and he moved his hands over Stan’s, stopping him. He wasn’t sure he could hold out much longer like this. Not with the other’s reddened cheeks and plumped lips staring back at him. “Now.” he breathed.

He was allowed momentary release from the ministrations as he stood on shaky feet, looking around before dropping his pants and underwear completely. His cock leapt with the removal of restraints. Stan whistled playfully, and he shook his head with a small laugh. “I thought I was the pervert here,” Kenny commented, voice not as light as he wanted it.

He bent down on his knees, shrugging Stan’s pants off from his position in front of him. He looked down at the tent in the other’s underwear, and decided it was too perfect a time not to tease. His hands ran up both legs as he positioned himself between them. They met in the middle, rubbing the hardened cock beneath the fabric. He rubbed down, grasping at the balls. “Kenny, come on…” Stan panted at him, “Just take them off.”

He shook his head in response, prodding at the wetted fabric. He thumbed over the head a couple of times, watching Stan wiggle in response. “I have to pay you back for the whistle.” he said steadily now, rubbing down the cock again. He felt the bottom roaming up from it. Stan hissed in response, so he did it again-slower this time. “Kenny…”

He did it once more before bending down, licking the cock over the fabric. “Please,” Stan whispered lowly. He licked again, swirling his tongue over the bottom of the shaft before blowing at the appendage. The legs twitched around him in response. He deemed this enough, gesturing Stan to move his legs with him as he peeled off the underwear from him. When the legs were settled back to their position around his body, he moved down once more.

Using his index finger and thumb, he made an “O.” He slid the middle down the cock as he kissed the shaft up to the head. Now, he licked it up the underside, pumping at it with his hand. He could hear Stan’s elicit remarks, and he smiled with them before opening his mouth around it. Thickness had his mouth widening, and he pushed himself down on the appendage.

“Fuck!”

He gaped around the width, and pumped it with the two fingers every time he went up and down, making sure ample teasing was provided. The legs on either side of him tightened, and hands grasping at grass now grasped at his hair instead. They pushed into it, constricting each time he went down on the other.

He went down again, this time swirling his tongue as he went up, taking the time to lick diligently across the tip. Stan squirmed around him, his cock practically purple. One more lick up the underside, then Kenny stopped, blowing across it finally. His eyes looked up to the Stan’s, finding them half-lidded. His favorite look on the other. “Damn, Stan,” he teased, thumbing the other’s cock. “How have you not come yet?” His cock was as straight as it could get, coloring deep as the other restrained against the arousal.

When he spoke, his voice was deep and groggy, “I don’t only have a golden rectum, you know.”

Kenny couldn’t help but laugh, covering his mouth with a hand. When he looked back, Stan was half-smiling at him. “I need to test out this golden dick of yours…” he commented evenly.

“Ride me.” Stan challenged.

“Prep me,” Kenny urged back, disentangling himself from Stan to gather his jacket from nearby. He heard Stan start to speak, but held up a finger in response. “One moment, love! I’m not running away from you naked in the woods yet,” he said, fingers brushing against something in the front pocket. “Found it!” He grasped it, eagerly flinging the jacket back to where it was before getting back to Stan.

He stepped over the lying man, taking his place on the other’s lower stomach. “I brought lube.” He showed Stan the bottle happily.

Stan looked defeated, and Kenny gave him a questioning look. “But I wanted to see you try to swallow my fingers.”

Kenny looked away, face heating at the remark. It took him a moment, but he took back control of the situation with an even response, “You’ll get to watch my ass do it.” he supplied.

With that said, Kenny handed Stan the lube. True to his word, he rearranged himself so that his back was to Stan, their cocks touching momentarily as he settled on his lap. “Why do you carry a bottle of lube with you?”

“Been waiting for you to want to get kinky,” he replied.

Stan laughed, and Kenny felt a front touch his back comfortingly as Stan sat up, a hand reaching around to feel his half-hard cock. He was pushed gently forward onto his hands and knees. “And what if I didn’t ever want to get kinky?”

“Then I guess I’d just carry lube around.” Kenny tensed when he felt a cold jellied finger push through his cheeks and circle his hole.

“Relax,” Stan said softly.

He let the reassuring voice wash over him, eyes closing to take in the moment. Fingertips grazed over his cock, playing with it lightly before roving up to his stomach. They circled there as the slick finger poked into him. He arched a bit into it, the appendage pushing inside deliciously.

It was pushed and pulled inside him, another finger added after a moment. His breath hitched in reply, body pushing back against the hand unconsciously. It was his turn to moan at the other now. “Stan…”

A third was added, cold entering him once more. It matched against the heat, rubbing against it sweetly. “Yesss….”

“Fuck, you’re hot like this,” Stan commented from behind him. He barely felt the kiss on his back, too enraptured with the fight inside of himself. Each pull out had him begging and each push in didn’t feel like enough.

The fingers were spread, and Kenny moaned, body moving back into them. He needed more.

“I’m ready,” he breathed.

“Are you sure?” Stan asked, splaying the fingers inside him.

Kenny crumpled against the motion, cock hardening as nerves pooled there in response to his ass being filled. He could feel his muscles beckoning the fingers, pushing at them as they continued to spread around, twirling this way and that.

“Mn, yes,” he said in reply to the question and motions alike.

He felt empty again all-too-soon.

“Stan…” he begged.

“You’re impatient tonight,” Stan stated.

There was a second’s pause before Kenny felt something big poking through to his entrance. With a push forward, the first bit of it was inside, and Kenny needed a minute to adjust. His muscles both pushed and pulled against the appendage, unsure just what he wanted.

“Further,” he said finally.

Stan obliged, pushing slowly forward. He felt the other’s pulse against his own, and it was a comfort as his body settled on just what to do with the intruder. It was cold-covered in lube, but it felt amazing as it pushed to the hilt-burning want melding with cold intrusion.

“Fuuuuck, you’re so tight, Ken.”

He breathed in and out slowly, pulse pounding against Stan’s own. His muscles clenched against the intrusion, and he inhaled sharply. It rubbed against them as Stan pulled out, pushing in with enough force that his body shook with it.

“Fuck!” he gasped.

“Sorry, excited,” Stan said quickly.

He felt the hard appendage pull out before thrusting in again, this time slower than the last. He felt every bit of the length as it took control of his body. Stan thrust again and again, Kenny now matching him, pushing back against the length in his own excitement.

Kenny moaned with the push inside, gasping as he was emptied. It wasn’t long before he was panting, groaning out Stan’s name with every movement. In turn, Stan sped the pace. He plowed into Kenny, and the blond felt as if his dick would become imprinted inside of him with the harsh blows. And it was heavenly.

“God, yes,” Kenny moaned before he was emptied completely. “What’s going on?”

He looked behind him, Stan now lying on the ground. “Didn’t you want to ride me?”

“I thought that was you.”

“Who cares who it was,” Stan groaned.

Kenny nodded, agreeing completely. He climbed on top, legs barely able to walk with the shakings of arousal. He moaned as he settled himself on top of Stan once more, this time facing him. The cock was positioned, and Kenny sat on it. Groaning, he let his weight push it inside quickly. He needed it now, he wasn’t about to play around.

Stan’s his cock was enveloped by his ass, Kenny working himself over the appendage again. He bounced on Stan’s cock, hands grasping at the other’s. They entwined their fingers, and Kenny moved them over his chest and held them there.

“Ah!” He found the spot. The bundle of nerves hidden inside of him that Stan’s cock hit just fucking right. Kenny aimed for it as he bobbed again, gasping as he reached it each thrust. “Fuck, fuck, FUCK!”

Stan’s hard member raged inside of him, and Stan took control. Hands were taken from his own and placed at his hips. The other picked him up, and had him slide back down with his weight alone. Then, he went faster.

Kenny swallowed, feeling the nerves building inside of him as his prostate responded to the thrust. It burned, fire breathing against the cock, and it hurt, it hurt so good.

His vision clouded as his body overflowed with nerves, fast pulse lightning now. A hand was placed on his cock, and fire met the warm skin achingly, cock twitching in the other’s hand.

He went faster, Stan rubbing against his member and prostate alike. His body only wanted release, that’s all it knew in that moment. And one more thrust in, he had it. “Stan!” He came with an explosion both inside and out, cock and insides throbbing as streams of cum was pushed out of him. The stress from the build-up now completely gone.

He felt Stan inside him, his hard member twitching as it came inside of him. “God, Kenny!” Spurts of cum filled him, his muscles working every droplet around the cock. They clenched around it, hardening and softening repeatedly until Stan was milked every drop.

A moment of bliss was sent in silence before Kenny felt his pulsating body calm enough for more touch. He bent forward, hand brushing Stan’s sweaty hair back. “You’re so beautiful right now.”

Chapter Two:

 “Give me it back!” a small redhead whined at a much larger brunette boy.  Frustration blushed red on his cheeks, heat radiating there. His hand was raised above his head, fingers strained and splayed out to reach the green material in the other’s fist.  On the tips on his toes now, his body leaned in closely to the other.  The snow under him didn’t do much for his balance as he nearly tipped over from the action.

 The ushanka was raised ever-higher by the bigger boy as he laughed maliciously, “Look at the Jewfro!”  Tears peeked at the edges of his vision from the harsh laughter, “No wonder you hide it!”

 The redhead retracted his hand at that, face reddening harsher with the words.  His hair wasn’t that big…Okay, it was, but this boy had no right to make fun of him for it.  Not with an ass that big.  “Fuck you, fatass!”  he said angrily.  Anger pooling in his stomach, he acted before he had time to think, knee contacting the other’s crotch.  The laughter stopped from the brunette, now turning to groans as his body crumbled down into a fetal position, his hat falling to the ground. 

 Kyle grabbed the hat and pulled it over his head immediately, face slowly resuming its normal coloring as the anger melted away.  He shivered, pressing the flaps down over his ears to warm them.  His cheeks felt numb… 

 A slow clap turned his attention to behind him.  He started, hands falling from his hat as he turned to a boy with a large orange parka covering nearly his entire body.  The hood of which covered nearly all of his face, forcing one‘s attention on large blue eyes. On either side of his face, a peek of blond hair. The clapping stopped as his hand reached forward, head tilting in question after a moment.  Unsure, Kyle placed his hand in the other’s, bare hand touching the icy glove.  When the boy spoke, the words were muffled from fabric, “Kenny.” he introduced.

 "Kyle," he answered back.

 The blond lowered his hand, blue eyes looking down at the brunette. "He's a fucking dildo." he stated, voice still muffled. 

 "What's a dildo?" Kyle asked, unsure he heard the other correctly. 

 The blond, in turn, laughed.

 When Kenny went into his coma, Kyle went into a state of his own. “Too emotional and overbearing,” Stan had called him, “acting like your mother,” was another. He didn’t like being compared to his mother, but he could see just from where Stan was coming. He hadn’t been gentle on the others considering Kenny was their friend too, instead he’d focused on his own pain.

 And his own stupidity.

 How could he act so stupid before all this, demand that Kenny spend attention on him when the boy had already said he wasn’t interested. He should’ve left it all alone, but he constantly showed his feelings about each conquest. Had shown his emotions on his sleeve for even Cartman to see-not that he had. At least, he didn’t think he had.

 What did it matter though? Kenny wanted his support, and he just left him over and over again. Hell, he was the reason Kenny was even at his house when he got shot. He had left. Just like he had every time he was supposed to stay over. It was unfair to Kenny. And look where it got them both.

 He sat on his bed. The hospital had said Kenny had hit his head on the concrete path to his house when he was shot. Not only was his body in a state of disrepair, but so, apparently, was his head. The guy had all the luck.

 His fingers trembled as they wiped against an eye. A stray wetness stayed on the hand after, but it went ignored. A coma. Kenny was in a coma, and it was all because Kyle had thrown a hissy fit about something that shouldn’t have mattered.

 Not to anyone else. Just him.

 It was all his fault.

 His phone pinged at him, alerting him of a new message. He took it out of his back pocket, leaning up to get it out before unlocking the screen. Stan was messaging him, but that was all he could make out as the words began blurring. Colors obscured into thick pastes without walls. He blinked, feeling the anxiety and anger hash it out in the pit of his stomach. The phone was shaking.

 Blinking did nothing but release wet droplets that slid against pale skin and wettened the path in which it fell. His chest hurt. There was an ache with every pound of his heart that had him panting against it. Breath escaped him, suddenly he couldn’t get enough air inside, each breath doing absolutely nothing. It was empty. There was no air.

 His phone slipped from his hands as they grasped either end of his jacket.

 Kenny might not come back.

 -0-

 He’d cried, screamed, threw things against his wall. Nothing mattered. Nothing changed. Kenny’s condition stayed the same. If it wasn’t for Karen’s constant presence by his side as he sat beside Kenny’s bed, he wasn’t sure how stable he’d have been. When she sat next to him with tears in her own eyes it made him steadier, made him put on a braver face than he’d shown to anyone else.

 It did help knowing that Kenny would have wanted his support for his sister in a time like this. Since he couldn’t give it himself…

 His hands shook with his inability to express just how upset he was. Karen was here, she didn’t deserve to see anyone else a complete mess. He looked to her, watched her quivering lips with an insecurity in himself.

 Kenny’s parents had a talk with the doctor today.

 There wasn’t much hope Kenny would come out himself. That was, if he’d come out at all. It took everything he had to move his hand onto Karen’s, to steady it as he gave hers a gentle press.

 “Kenny wouldn’t die on us.” But his voice broke.

 Karen didn’t call him out on it, fingers tightening around his hand instead.

 -0-

 When Karen and Kenny’s parents weren’t there, it was usually him alone or with Stan. Cartman didn’t even bother to visit most days. And when he did, it was for the cameras lingering in the hallway. Kenny’s being shot had made it to their local news, and it was being milked for all it was worth. Which really wasn’t much, seeing as how they’d left them alone after a few days of being unable to see the boy. He wouldn’t let them film Kenny like this, not after last time.

 Green eyes took in the still figure on the bed, body heavy as he sat in the uncomfortable metal chair the hospital provided. He was supposed to be in school right now. His mother was probably going to get angry with him again. It’d been a constant fight to stay with Kenny after the first week.

 His grieving time was supposed to be over, and Kenny was supposed to be taken off life support sometime soon. If the second chair was pressed against the knob of the door to where no one could get in to do the job, then so be it.

 He wasn’t leaving Kenny to die.

 -0-

 Stan was with him now, trying to talk him down from hurting the doctors. He stood in front of the other, chair gone from the door. It was the middle of the school day, but Stan knew him well enough to leave it to be here. The other kept telling him to act more rational. That no one was leaving Kenny yet, and that his security measures meant nothing.

 He outright refused to believe any of it. He’d heard Mrs. McCormick talking about Kenny’s already being “dead.” Kenny wasn’t dead, far from it. Every gentle rise and fall of the other’s chest proved his worth to stay in this life. At least, it did to Kyle.

 So, it was with great shock and genuine anger that he turned to the blond on the bed, believing a prank was being played on him. The hand on his ass was moved forcibly by his own as he turned. Then, his face grew pale with disbelief.

 Kenny was alive. His heart felt free again, weight on it lifting so it no longer hurt to breathe. He lost himself in the blue eyes, breathing out the other’s name as if he didn’t believe he’d ever say it again.

 “Kenny!”

 His mind was bogged down with so much confusion over the gesture, however. How could the other toy with him like that? Did it really matter if he had him back? What was a joke when it meant the other was well enough to do it?

 He ignored the hurt at the gesture for the happiness he hadn’t had in three weeks. Kenny was alive. Kenny was Alive. Kenny was ALIVE.

 Elation only lasted as long as the minute silence, a croaking voice answering his after the pause. “Who’s Kenny?”

 His face fell, “What?” he asked aloud, because what else could he say?

 -0-

 Kenny looked at the redhead in confusion, “What?” he replied. He didn’t know what else to say. The other looked so pale at his question, leaving Kenny even more confused. Surely, he knew what the Hell was going on? “Where am I?” he asked in the silence.

 There was another in the room, a black-haired teen who got up with the sentence. His mouth was open, eyes wide. “Kenny, y-you’re at the hospital.”

 He looked to the redhead, watching as green eyes stared at him and only him. The statement wasn’t directed to him-at least, it looked unlikely. “Oh,” he answered. The answer must’ve been to him and not the redhead. I must be Kenny. “Kenny…” he whispered. It sounded odd to his ears. Why hadn’t he known that?

 His head hurt, pressing an ache against his skull every few seconds. His thoughts were scattered, pushing and pulling through his brain. He couldn’t place which was which or why they even existed. He was overwhelmed with a dizziness that felt like a smoothie against the walls of his head. “Why?”

 The simple question had the redhead moving, crossing what little distance lie between them. His face was pressed into a shoulder as arms leaned him up and into an embrace. It felt so warm, comforting even, but he felt something was deeply wrong with it. Once again, he found himself at a loss for what was happening. He couldn’t connect his thoughts to his speech just yet, so instead he spoke in confusion, “What’s wrong?”

 He could feel the redhead’s harsh heartbeat regardless of the distance to his chest. His head didn’t hurt so much like this. The shoulders shuddered then, breath copying the motion in an exhale. “You’re alive,” was whispered lowly into his hair.

 Kenny lifted his own arm in response, lifting it and placing it over the other’s back. He let it drop there to become weightless, a burn in his muscle responding to the movement harshly. He considered moving it downward and toward the other’s rump as he had earlier, but judging by the stale air in the room, that wouldn't have been the best response. He sighed into the shoulder as he heard a door creak open to his side. He guessed the other boy in the room left for some reason. 

 It hurt to think of why. He groaned as his head pounded its response to the questions roaming around to the forefront. Everything was painful. Just what was going on? He felt owed answers, wondering how he got to where he was, and just why it hurt to think about anything that happened prior. 

 Why couldn’t he remember who he was? He groaned again, rubbing against the shirt of the other.

 “Who are you?” Is the question he settled for next.

 The body surrounding him tensed, and he was let go, head falling back into a pillow, as the redhead stared at him with the same shock as before. “K-Kenny…” He sounded sad and spoke with an inflection. The redhead looked away from him, and it wasn’t for the first time that Kenny noticed his lithe form. The messy bedhead and bright green eyes led down to pouted lips and a prominent jawline. If it wasn’t for the paled complexion and deep bags under his eyes, he would’ve been picture perfect.

 He was quite the sight, but Kenny wondered just why he was here. He didn’t seem in the mood for any flirtation, which was fine, or at least it would’ve been, if he’d just let Kenny know what was happening. The smoothie in his head sloshed from side to side, squiggling through his brain itself now. He closed his eyes momentarily, gritting his teeth as he tried to focus. Opening them, the redhead began to speak.

 “You-you don’t know me?”

 He thought he’d made that clear. “No.” he answered, voice scratchy. He looked to see if there was water but found none. His hand found its way to his throat, rubbing the ache there. It didn’t help, the ache was from the inside, caused seemingly from a deep dryness lurking there. Why did it matter if he didn’t know him?

 But then, who did he know?

 His hand moved to his head as a push of a razor against his forehead had it searing. “I don’t know me.” It was a whispered confirmation of something he hadn’t been able to fully process. His eyes watered involuntarily, and he blinked against it. Why does everything hurt? He tried to sit up again, only to fall back immediately. His back felt nothing, a giant numbness succumbing to pins and prickles the next moment.

 He lifted his hand, clenching it and opening it again in front of his eyes. This was his hand. It was as white as the boy in front of him. He was so pale. But, how did he know he wasn’t always this pale? His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, lips frowning deeply. How did he know anything was anything? He took a deep breath, exhaling deeply through his nose. Everything felt wrong.

 Kyle watched before grasping at the hand in front of Kenny’s face. He held it for a moment before pressing against it reassuringly. He felt comfort in it, and he hoped Kenny could too. Hoped he could. He’d seen the confusion, and the part of him that was logical had pushed through the blind emotional ambition that had run him prior.

 Kenny couldn’t remember anything.

 He felt like he couldn’t stand, then. His legs wobbled with the news. Would he ever remember him? So, he sat on his knees directly next to the other. He was so tired. When had he slept last? He couldn’t remember.

 He heard Stan come back then, more footsteps adding to the boy’s own. His head turned back to see a line of doctors. They looked less stunned than himself, and he wondered how they had any right to, considering they were ready to kill him. He frowned at them, Stan taking his shoulder and leading him from the bed. He noticed his hand still in the blonde’s and reluctantly pulled away, fingers slipping from between Kenny’s.

 The other looked forlorn at the reaction, clenching his hand once the other’s was out of reach. Then, he was accosted with questions from the people in white. They stared at him too intently, and he longed for the redhead’s hand once more. It had been comforting in the confusion to know someone was there for him.

 He looked past the people in white but was unable to make anything out past the scrubs and coats. The man directly in front of him repeated something, and it clicked he should’ve been listening. “What?” he asked, unsure how to approach the other.

 “What year is it?”

 Kenny’s hand rubbed against his forehead at this, “Um… It’s…” He knew what a year was.

 The doctor pressed forward regardless of no answer being given, “Who’s the president?”

 He stared blankly, blinking as more wetness pushed to the front of his eyes. “President?” The president is the guy who runs the government. He was… He was… “Who is the president?” He breathed again, but his breath was too short. He tried again, breath feeling empty. “Who?” He eyed the men in front of him again.

 “Do you remember your name?”

 Finally, something he could answer. “They-they said Kenny, is that it?” he added.

 “Yes,” the man answered assuredly.

 Finally, a definitive answer. “My name is Kenny,” he remarked lowly. It was a good name, he’d decided.

 “Do you remember what happened to bring you here?”

 A sharp knife cut through his brain, leaving him breathless, “I-What happened?” he asked, hoping for another answer.

 He received none. They did offer him some information however, “We’re doctors at the hospital. That’s where you are right now.” He nodded dully. The doctors seemed to converse with themselves before a final question was asked, “What is your favorite food?”

 Food? What did that have to do with anything? “Food? Um, I guess I like… Something…” He cut off, rubbing his forehead as a burning ache ran across it. He knew food, right? It was something you eat. But, what did you eat?

 “Can you recall anything about yourself? Anything at all? Where you live, or someone from your family. A pet, maybe?”

 The questions startled him as they only gave him a fresh ache and a quiet emptiness in his head as the answers. “No.” It was a quiet statement, but the doctor nodded all the same.

Chapter One:

 Light taps of finger pads against a right thigh was the only outward sign of Kyle's inward stress. The same pattern over and over, one finger after another tapped against the fabric of his jeans, their light weight allowing only the most minuscule acknowledgement physically on his body. Yet, these fingers were the only thing keeping the redhead in his place on the couch and not running straight out the door. And only he and Stan knew it.

 Tap, tap tap, tap, they padded against the tense thigh. One after another, Kyle's focus stayed heavily on the movements, barely having the sense to flip page after page of his now-hazy textbook. Words unfocused and eyes blurring them together further and further with each sound of the room's only coupling making out on the carpet to the right of the redhead's seat.

 Each kiss seemed to last forever, and each moan was in slow motion. And with each sound, the fingers began their pattern from the beginning once more. Just as the session of lips pressed together continued against the yells of a too-focused Cartman on his new video game and Stan's ever-lasting crunches of the endless; crinkly bag of chips, the tapping continued with just as much fever and devotion.

 This continued, just as it did for each gathering of the small group that included a girl hanging off the only blond of the group. Each tap a distraction to pull him from the envious thoughts swirling through his mind just as rapid and forceful as the day they began.

 Tap, tap tap, tap, tap...

 It was bearable, but only just. Crossed legs, tense with the pull of muscle to keep from becoming just as jittery as his fingers. Just as the same pull kept the rest of his body from bolting from his seat and out of the awkward setting. Awkward only to him, he knew, but still too full of the stiff air for him not to feel suffocated by proximity of the couple.

 With each movement stifled with a forced tight stiffness, it hurt when the sudden scream of victory from the red-coated teen in front of the TV had Kyle starting harshly. "Goddammit..." he said out of habit alone.

 He felt eyes on him before he glanced up, noting the concerned look of his best friend and facing it with a frown of his own. Stan only shrugged in reply, before turning back to the game he'd been playing against Cartman. Kyle sighed softly, his tapping having stopped with the unexpected scare. Distraction no more, green eyes surveyed the random page of his textbook slightly more steadily than they had prior.

 The words, logically, made sense apart from each other, but with a muffled laugh continuing nearby, Kyle found each word's meaning lost. Muddled definitions changed quickly to jumbled letters and lost placement of sentence structure. Blurred and uneven paragraphs daunted on him as he tried in vain to make sense of the pages. Fingers touched the edge of the paper uncertainly before flipping the book forward quickly.

 The next page began with a sentence he could read, but with a mewl of affection from the only girl in the room, it too became too hazed to read. Instead, the page took away the letters completely, this time replacing them with bold; black lines. He squinted, the beginning edges of the words he knew to be there was all that remained of the text.

 "Oh..."

 The low sound had his concentration on the sound in the room amplifying as his eyes lost track of where they were once settled. A blink cleared only so much before warm palms pressed against his eyes comfortingly. The rubbed them with a small amount of roughness in the gesture, a bit of frustration finding its way into the familiar movement.

 A few more blinks later and Kyle found the book legible once again. But by now, it was too late to try to catch up on his reading. With a lost placement in the chapter and a lack of notes-other than the hastily scribbled name and date-told him it was time to leave Cartman's house and forego staying the night once again.

 And if anyone but Stan noticed his lack of hours spent in his friends' company, they had never made it known. Just as he doubted they would anytime soon. 

 Taking only a little time to check his phone's lack of messages and stage a quick reply that never actually occurred, Kyle placed his belongings in the messenger bag that had been swung over the couch's arm. And with a grace that betrayed his current mentality, he pulled the strap of his bag over his opposite shoulder and stood from the couch to walk to the front door.

 He ignored Stan as he did this, walking slowly to the door so as not to arouse much suspicion, knowing the other was watching his movements with the same sad knowing look he always did. Normally, he'd at least try to let Stan what was on his mind, but this time he couldn't bring himself to admit how bothered he was with the entire situation.

 He was supposed to be applying to colleges and keeping close to his friends while they still had the time to do so; not running off on them and letting some of his grades slip right before the end of the year. He knew it wasn't fair to them, and to his mother who'd watched over every paper he'd ever written with great care for his college choices to vary for whatever career he chose to pursue.

 And here he was fucking it all up in one swoop in the final semester of high school he'd ever take. All because he was uncomfortable and in absolute envy over every single girl with which Kenny found himself. And it was all because he was an absolute fucking idiot about his feelings.

 Girls with his friends, even ones with which he found himself crushing on, had never been so bad. It was the fact he had acted on those emotions that tore him apart. 

 It'd been a cold winter's afternoon, school called off early for an ice warning. Snowflakes flew in flurries, hitting Kyle's forehead as he looked up at the cloudy sky. Him and Kenny being the last to still use the bus, they had the walk home to themselves. Kenny was quiet, an earbud in one ear as he listened to his teen angst music. 

 He paused in his walk, still looking to the sky. All day he'd watched the other in secret, had seen him tell another conquest how she wasn't his girlfriend, that he wasn't interested in her that way. It'd opened a possibility. Maybe he was interested in someone else. Or, at the very least, open for someone else in his life. Right? 

 His heart pounded in his chest, pulse beating in his ears as he glanced at the blond. Kenny stopped as if he could sense his eyes. He gave him a curious look, "Kye?" 

 There was a second of silence among them before Kyle looked away. His cheeks burned. "Kenny..." he started. 

 "What is it?" 

The confident part of himself drove away the nervous part. He refused to continue being this emotional mess. He had to know. Words escaped him though, not knowing exactly how to spill his feelings without sounding like the mess that he was. So, he acted instead.

With a step, the small distance between them was closed. His lips chastely met Kenny's warm ones. A peck, small but assuring in what it had to say. It sent a jolt nevertheless, pulse fast as the shock slowed. He saw the shock in the other's eyes first before he saw the sadness. Kenny looked away as if he couldn't stand to look at him. 

He felt broken. His legs felt wobbly then, and his entire being felt as if cold water had been splashed against him in the cool air of the outside. He shook. 

"I'm sorry, I just-" 

"Kyle," Kenny interrupted. "I don't feel that way-I mean-I like you..." 

"As a friend," was left unsaid but known by them both. Kyle nodded, frustration with himself panning out over the dampening emotional spiral. He felt dizzy. He would do anything to turn invisible at this moment. 

"I just had to know," it was half to Kenny, half to himself. 

Would their friendship withstand? Did he just ruin something he once thought an unbreakable bond? His logical side knew the embarrassment wouldn't last, that Kenny wouldn't hold it against him. But every other side of him screamed otherwise. 

 Kenny spoke again just as he started to walk away, words keeping Kyle still in place. "This doesn't-it doesn't change anything." Kenny said assuredly, but with a noticeable voice break in the middle, as if it had been him who'd kissed the other. "I just can't think of you like that, Kyle. I never could." 

 The words hurt worse than they had any right to, and his frame trembled further. He needed to go home. His throat felt like a knife had been sawed into it, rendering speech useless. He nodded in its stead, staying faced away from the other. 

 He swore to himself the wetness in his eyes was from anything but tears. Everything except them. 

 Except that it wasn't something small, not at all. It was far from anything Kyle had experienced with his brief adoration of either gender. It was more than a crush. And even though he acknowledged this, he'd never truly admit just how fully he felt for the perverted asshole.

 And it was with this embarrassment and absolute envy that found Kyle slamming the door just a little too harshly when Kenny finally spoke since he'd entered the house, "Where'd Kyle go?"

 And it was with this same embarrassment that Kyle found himself unable to go back inside to grab his forgotten coat. He'd just have to hope Stan would pick it up for him later and give it back to him personally. In any other house he might've come back inside the next day, but being that this was Cartman's house and therefore not a regular person's house he refused outright to enter it and ask for his coat back. In fact, he could already hear Cartman asking him to say something stupid in order to be allowed his possession returned to him.-The jackass. Not that Kyle wouldn't also do it to Cartman had the other boy done the same at his house, but still.-The jackass.

 Walking fast, it took little time to get to his house from Cartman's, being as it wasn't even three minutes away on a bad day. But even with him being as cold as he was, he halted just outside the door, and just in time to hear a voice yell, "Kyle!"

 His hand tightened on the coarse texture of his bag's strap, body turning back to the front yard from which he'd just entered. "Hello?" he said to the outside, wondering if his mind was playing a joke on him.

 But it wasn't, "Dude, you forgot your jacket!" Kyle recognized the voice easily this time as Kenny's. And it wasn't but a second later that the blond entered his line of sight with the aforementioned coat in hand.

 "Thanks." Kyle said steadily, walking down his stairs to take the fabric from the blond's hand. But one tug later found Kyle staring at the hand that had yet to let go of the coat. "You can let go now," he prompted.

 "Not until you tell me what's been up with you lately." Kenny demanded.

 "What do you mean, we see each other everyday, you know what's been going on," Kyle responded without missing a beat.

 "Dude, you know what I mean," Kenny supplied, tugging the jacket completely free from Kyle's grasp.

 Kyle gave him an agitated look, only to have the same look given in response. "Nothing, classes are just bullshit right now."

 The confident reply wasn't enough however, as Kenny saw through it immediately. "They are, but they've always been shitty. That doesn't cover why you keep leaving early. Dude, it's our last year together, and you've spent more time on homework and at your house alone than with your best friends. What the Hell is wrong with you?"

 Kyle knew he hadn't meant anything bad by the response, logically. But his mind wasn't thinking logically, at least, wasn't latching onto what he knew as logical. The information flew away in a fit of emotion just as it tended to do when he argued. "What do you care? You've been spending everyday lip locked with every girl in school. I've hardly heard you say two words in a week."

 Kenny gave an aggravated look, one Kyle felt himself beginning to already respond to-until the look disappeared to leave a sad one in its place. Kyle sighed at it, looking away, knowing he'd said the wrong thing with the gesture alone. "Kyle..."

 The sound was so sad, so solemn that he cringed with the word. He knew what was coming next, a long ass speech that made both of them feel so shitty that they couldn't look at each other for a week or two. At least, Kyle couldn't bring himself to do it.

 There was an intake of air before, BANG. Kyle's head jerked up faster than he'd thought humanly possible, eyes widening to take in whatever it was that made the loud noise. A pang of nerves pushed through his entire body at once, eyes meeting the wide; surprised ones of his friend. Blood was flying as a visible shock went through Kenny's entire system.

 Kyle could only watch in horror as the sound of quick tires against concrete was released. And with it the car sped away, the bullet in Kenny's chest and skid marks on the road the only signs a driveby shooting had been the cause of what was about to be the other's death. 

 With reflexes alone Kyle grabbed the jacket from the shaking palm, pressing the fabric against the hole in Kenny's body. Blood filled it quickly, the orange tint fading to a dirty red. Pressing harder, Kyle looked into Kenny's wide eyes.

 "You're okay-You're g-gonna be okay." he said in what sounded like a quiet voice. But his ears still rang from the shot, and he was sure Kenny was too in shock to notice anyway.

 "You're gonna be okay, Kenny." he assured again anyway. "I promise."

 It was all he could do, hold down the blood until his someone-anyone who'd heard the shot-came running to see the cause. So, he waited, about to pull his hand from the wound to grab a phone when a hand on his shoulder had him starting. Both hands still frozen, he looked up to see Ike standing behind him. He was saying something-but what Kyle wasn't sure. His mouth was moving too rapidly to make sense of it and the ringing in his ears now covered every noise the world could make.

 It wasn't until an ambulance showed and two masculine arms pulled him away from the body that Kyle began to hyperventilate. 

 -0-

 When Kenny woke, a stiff soreness met each of his limbs. It was as if he'd spent an entire day doing nothing but exercising without rest. Each muscle was strained and each limb was pushing into the cushion beneath him so heavily they felt unable to move from their spot. Not that, with the pain, Kenny would have done so anyway. 

 With this bodily awareness, his ears began to pound, and each sense came into being once more. This began slowly, the loud buzzing of his ears lowering, tongue moving around a dry mouth hesitantly, eyes flickering back and forth beneath heavy lids. 

 And with each sense beginning to become aware came a mindfulness that hadn't been there before this moment. It hurt. Thoughts fuzzy and uncontrolled, each tried to grasp at the questions floating in his mind only resulted in unreachable, airy results. 

 What was going on? 

 His brain searched for the answer, wondering just how he ended up wherever he was feeling the way he did. But when the thoughts just gave him more questions, he tried to get answers another way. 

 Eyes were heavy, literally and otherwise. Feeling as if lifting them was lifting a full sandy weight, blue eyes opened to squint in the white light. He blinked in quick and rapid succession, a buzzing in his ears settling as the light subsided. He breathed out, eyes opening more fully. Head lulled to the side, eyes taking in a rounded form just in front of him.  

 Blinking again, he found the form taking a more human shape. The buzzing pushed away from his ears, leaving beeps from what he assumed to be a machine in its wake. The shape became completely human, blurred colors now dedicated lines. 

 The first thought that came fully was just how appreciative he was for that ass. The closest arm strained against invisible weight, pushing against it and moving toward the ass in front of him. Satisfied, a nearly numb hand found the rounded area, and groped it fully. 

 "Ah!" Kyle stated, starting as he stopped mid-conversation with Stan. "Are you guys fucking with me right now?" he asked, a hand pushing at the one squeezing against his buttocks. "I'm seriously not in the mood, seriously, what the fuck, Cartman?" 

 "What?" Stan asked, eyebrows furrowing before his eyes turned toward the area behind Kyle after the redhead drew attention to it. 

 Kyle turned, reddened cheeks turning white as he took in the all-too-awake Kenny on the bed behind him. "Kenny!" But that meant-He turned to either side, and finding no one else, his blush returned. What the Hell was Kenny playing at? He didn't know whether to ignore the gesture from before or to call attention to it angrily. 

 Kenny shouldn't mess with him like that, not after saying what he had... 

 But then Kenny spoke, and Kyle's anger only left shock. 

Jews Have No Rhythm

Kenny McCormick prided himself on having some of the best sex there was. Every single person he'd been with agreed that he'd been the best they'd ever had. So why then was sex with his newly-instated boyfriend anything but great-good even?

Because Cartman had been right. Jews have no rhythm. Absolutely none. As Kyle would say, God-fucking-dammit.

"C'mon, Kyle, you've gotta do better than that..."

Kenny pulled the leash in his hand, the other spreading Kyle's thigh further outward as the other bounced on his lap. "Mmm..." Kyle groaned in response, cheeks red while hot air puffed out with each delving thrust inside him. It was all he could do to keep time with each stroke in his head while his entire body shook in exhaustion. "Nnn..." The sound was automatic, a swift intake of air following as Kenny's hand touched the tip of his reddened cock. He paused in his movements, panting. He felt too full, muscles near exhaustion as they were pushed onto the hard cock straining within him. Shaking fingers clenched sporadically, arms strained in their position behind his back. They pulled at the bindings even now, unconsciously trying to break free and gain some sort of leverage for his movements.

"I didn't say you could stop, don't tell me you need to be punished again already?" Kenny's words came out soft and lingering on friendly but they had Kyle moving once again, a low moan accompanying the small bounces.

Knees pressed into the couch now, tied hands balled while Kyle pulled himself off the Kenny's length slowly, readying himself for another full thrust inward when his hips were grasped by an impatient Kenny. "You've gotta go faster," Kenny urged gently even as he pushed the other down to the hilt in one quick push downward.

"Ah!" By now Kyle was shivering in anticipation, a cock ring the only thing keeping him from cumming and crumpling completely into Kenny's arms. Eyes remained closed under the tight blindfold, but moved rapidly under their lids.

"Are you doing it on purpose?" Kenny asked, groaning when Kyle finally moved once more, grinding his hips on the other's appendage. "Do you want to have to do this all over again tomorrow?"

Kenny's words were answered with a moan, which in turn was answered with a light laugh. "Go faster." he demanded then, gentleness from before gone. But his lips pressed against the other's back softly, betraying his tone. He grasped onto Kyle's hips, trying to keep himself from taking control and finishing them both completely.

Kyle obeyed, or tried to, his body finding it harder and harder to keep up any sort of pace on the large cock. It filled him completely and stretched him open with each move inside, and the grinds of his hips had yet to imprint the cock's largeness on his rebelling muscles. It squeezed inside each grind downward, filling him to the brim each stroke.

Small humps at first, he picked up his pace considerably. "Steady," Kenny urged, giving a tug to the leash. A sharp intake of air responded, the collar pulling against his windpipe with the movement. Kyle's muscles clamped onto his dick in response, twitching in need. They massaged his length while it moved and tensed with a driving need of release.

"K-Kenny..." Kyle managed out, heavy breaths unable to control as his pace quickened further. "Please...K...Kenny..."

And that was the end of Kenny's control, with an ease he'd only ever managed during sex, Kenny pushed Kyle down into the couch cushions. His hand grasped the rope of the tied hands for leverage as he began to thrust in earnest.

"Oh God...Kenny!" Kyle managed out, voice muffled in the couch cushions. His head turned, blindfold tilted and allowing Kenny the sight of tears of want coming from the other. Red cheeks couldn't get any redder, moans continuing at a rougher pace with each stroke. "Y-yes!"

The quick thrusts soon led to Kenny's own need filling him past his usual restraint. A hand kept on the rope while the other softly rubbed his partner's cock.

He humped furiously, hand slipping off the other's cock-ring from the stiff length with some effort as the cock had swollen since it was placed on the user.

A gasp from Kyle and a groan from Kenny voiced their coming release. Kenny pumped inside a couple more times before he pressed himself to the hilt inside Kyle. The redhead's release came then as well, and the muscles milked Kenny's cock for all it was worth.

Kyle felt the cock twitch inside, his muscles grasping onto the length unconsciously. He was full, and the hand on his cock squeezed out his release with its movements. He gasped again as he came, body releasing every bit of pent-up frustration he owned. Nerves finally settled, body shaky but finally succumbing to the exhaustion of the rough sex.

Kyle's muscles rubbed against the length inside, pulling Kenny inside as far as he could manage. Balls twitched as he came inside the too-willing space. And in turn it grasped at each wave of cum, moving it inside as it filled his partner completely. When he finished his last spurt, he pulled out slowly against the tide of waves trying to pull him the opposite way.

Kenny's eyes quickly noted the reddened cheeks, enjoying the sight a little longer when white droplets pushed from the abused hole. He watched it wink at him while Kyle finished his own spurts in his steady hand.

Keeping his pull gentle, he massaged the rest of Kyle's cum from his body, releasing it when Kyle twitched away from the other.-His cock now sensitive to the touch.

Kyle's breaths steadied, his knees staying spread, bottom keeping its place in the air as his tired body finally began to settle. Kenny rubbed his back in soothing circles, "Same time tomorrow?" he asked with a smirk.

Their relationship began with so much lovey-dove feelings and words that Kenny had thought his days of kinky sex had finally ended. And then one night Kenny finally made a move, and Kyle responded. And Kenny would never forget how awful their first time was. He didn't even get off, and nor did Kyle to that respect.

It would be one thing if they just didn't mix together well in as friends that dated leading to sex-but it wasn't that. It was something worse. Kyle literally had no rhythm when it came to taking control on either end. He didn't know when to go faster, slower, and for the love of all that was holy and created Jews in the first place, he couldn't even keep a beat when he was a bottom in missionary just lifting his hips in times to Kenny's thrusts.

Kenny had never encountered someone without a sense of rhythm in sex, he'd never even thought it possible. It was a fucking instinct. But apparently, Cartman's words of Jews being unable to have a beat in dancing was the tip of the Goddamned iceberg. No wonder Kyle was always so tightly-wound and angry all the time, he never got release! It all made so much sense that Kenny felt he should get a fucking reward for his find.

And so Kenny vowed to make it his life's mission to give his boyfriend release. It was his sole purpose in life at that point, and right after the first time he'd done it, Kyle became the kinkiest fucking boyfriend ever. Which was fantastic since Kyle really needed to be trained if he wanted release to keep happening. Kenny was happy to help each step of the way. And if Kyle had to call him 'master' to get that release, well, Kenny would consider it a civic duty to see it through.

The training soon evolved, turning rhythm into a game of how Kenny could take the kinks.