Pulling Trig

by espyonz

Summary:

Stan’s not sure why he thought it was a good idea to kick off his summer by driving to Florida with his friends. Things are only made more complicated when none of them can get along, nostalgia causes emotions to run high, and Kenny McCormick became the guy of Stan’s dreams seemingly overnight.

Chapter 1: Does This Make Me Gay?

Notes:

It’s me, Espy, with another stenny fic but this time it’s looong. It’s also my favourite thing I’ve ever written ever to be honest, and I’m pretty proud of it. I’ve given it a mature rating as there is definitely stronger language and themes than my other works, but there will be no smut as I personally don’t write that. Maybe I’m being conservative with the rating, I don’t know lol. There also will be a sequel to this that will be holiday themed :p
Anyway, with that out of the way I hope you enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing <3

Stan squinted against the sun and looked up at the bleachers surrounding his high school field. They’d hardly bothered decorating for graduation, probably just to save money. You can paint over rust but the rust is still there, and all that.

Stan spied his parents, together for the first time since Shelley was graduating. They were far away from him but he could tell they weren’t happy about each other’s company. In fact he’d wager Randy was already drinking just to get through it, because any day that he wasn’t the sole focus of was difficult for him.

They weren’t who Stan was looking for though. He was scanning the crowds for any flash of orange he could find but came up short. His heart sunk a little.

It was probably unfair to expect Kenny to come and watch the whole thing, but he’d still hoped he would’ve. Of course he’d mostly hoped somehow Kenny would be sat beside him, on a rickety plastic chair with a matching cap and gown, but hoping didn’t really provide results.

He turned back to the stage as Wendy went up to give her valedictorian speech. It was no surprise she received that title but Stan would never say that to Kyle, who was a very bitter salutatorian. Whilst they’d always been classroom rivals, it has ramped up immensely when they got to high school and Wendy had won without a doubt. She was going to Harvard to study the law. Kyle was going to Brown to do the same, which was also a great achievement as everyone had made sure to point out, but he was obviously a little jealous.

"Good afternoon everyone," Wendy greeted. She was probably the only one of them who could pull off such a formal introduction without it sounding like she was trying too hard. "I want to start by saying congratulations."

There was a smattering of applause and Stan couldn’t help but smile. He’d heard it a thousand times but it still felt good.

"I don’t just mean congratulations for graduating, or for what you’re doing next. Well done for surviving eighteen years in this crazy place." Wendy smiled. "Well done for surviving all this time with Eric Cartman—"

"Aye!"

Wendy snickered a little but largely remained composed. "And I also want to say thank you. Thank you for being the best family I could’ve asked for. I know not all of us get along," she pointedly glanced in the direction Stan knew Cartman was sat, ironically beside Kyle.

Stan looked around his classmates. Craig held his signature heavy lidded, slightly dead looking eye contact with him for a long moment and Stan grimaced. They’d been rivals for a while and he couldn’t even remember why. It was like they woke up one day and decided that they’d be frenemies at best. Now it seemed so stupid, so juvenile.

As Stan glanced back over to the stage, his eye was caught by the front row of the bleachers. More specifically, by Kenny sitting down there. He caught Stan’s eye, smiled, and pointed to the front.

Stan grinned and looked back to Wendy. "We’ve stuck together through thick and thin. Through all of Jimmys less than stellar jokes, sorry Jim—"

"It’s okay Wen— Wendy!"

"Or through the era of Clyde’s frosted tips," Wendy continued. Stan heard Clyde laugh somewhere in front of him. "But also through the serious stuff, and that’s what a family does. They’re there for you. And I can only hope that as we leave this town and go our separate ways, we’ll always be connected by more than just the place where we grew up, or by our matching diplomas, but by the memories that we shared here. And on that note…"

She inhaled deeply and shuffled her cards. It was a nervous habit; Stan had seen her do it often enough when she used to practice for her debate competitions in front of him.

"The school told me to cut this part of my speech but I wouldn’t feel right not giving it," she explained. "I wouldn’t feel right not acknowledging that not everyone in our family is graduating today. I really hope this isn’t out of pocket but I wanted to mention Kenny. Because I can confidently say we all love Kenny, and no cap or gown or diploma makes him any less significant or worthy of mention today."

Stan glanced over at Kenny, in the front row, who looked a little like a deer in the headlights. Stan realised everyone had also zeroed in on him, even some of the parents. That was probably a little overwhelming.

But Kenny just waved and dipped forward into a little half bow, earning some laughter, before the attention returned to Wendy. Stan’s gaze lingered on Kenny a moment longer. He was sure he wouldn’t have handled that so gracefully.

"Now I think I’ve talked long enough," Wendy said. "The only thing I want to say to you now is that I love you, all of you, and thank you for being here."

She stepped away from the podium and everyone stood up to applause her. Stan sniffed a little and realised his eyes felt wet. He wasn’t the only one; Clyde was openly weeping and Bebe was rubbing at her eyes suspiciously.

They lined up to collect their diplomas, Stan sandwiched between Scott and Red. He cheered loudly for his friends, even Cartman, but was still surprised at how loudly they returned the favour. He saw Kyle with his hands cupped around his mouth and his parents were on their feet clapping. Kenny was stood too and he whistled loudly. When he saw Stan looking at him he paused clapping and offered a thumbs up. Stan returned it.

And then it was over, just like that. Stan was graduated. He was free. They’d spent so long talking about it, fantasising, and now it was real.

The guests spilled out from the bleachers in search of their children and Stan navigated over to Kyle and Cartman.

"Dudes," he said, because all other words failed.

" Dudes ," Kyle replied, eyes shining suspiciously. "We fucking did it."

Before Stan really knew what was happening, Cartman pulled them both into a hug. "This is the first and last time we do this," he promised.

Stan laughed but held onto them both tight. Wendy was right about them being a family; for better or worse, these were his brothers.

"I never thought I’d see the day."

They broke apart at the sound of Kenny’s voice. He smirked at them, slouching with his hands in his parka pockets, and Stan wasn’t sure how he had that on when he himself was sweating in his gown. He’d thrown it over a grease stained t-shirt he must’ve been wearing for his shift at the auto shop and hadn’t changed out of.

"You all look like dorks in your matching outfits," he commented.

"You’re just jealous," Cartman snapped, without missing a beat.

Stan felt his breath hitch; they’d been walking on eggshells about this with Kenny ever since he dropped out at the end of junior year. He was working full time now, a day shift at the auto shop with his brother and sometimes the night shift at the gas station, and he didn’t seem to be particular enjoying it. He didn’t complain out loud but it was clear he had no passion for it and he had always been a smart kid. He could’ve done very well if he finished school and they all knew it.

But Stan needn’t have worried because Kenny just tilted his head in a conceding shrug. He didn’t deny Cartman’s claim, which was telling in and of itself, but he didn’t seem too bothered.

On the other hand, Kyle, characteristically, was. "Shut up fatass," he snapped. "Just be normal for one damn day."

Stan had never been more grateful for Wendy Testaburger, as her approach cut Cartman off before he could retaliate.

"Hey guys— Oh!" Wendy was cut off by Kenny hugging her tight. Her eyes went wide with surprise, before she smiled and patted him on the back. "I’m guessing this means you liked my speech?"

Kenny nodded against her shoulder. "Thank you."

He released her and cleared his throat nonchalantly, but his eyes looked a little damp. Wendy squeezed his shoulder and looked directly at Stan. "Hey."

"Hi."

"Can we talk?"

Cartman whistled and Kyle swatted at him. "Go," he said when Stan looked at him. "Just be quick cause I can see my mom with the camera and it’s a miracle she’s waited this long before bombarding us."

Stan laughed and gestured for Wendy to lead. He followed her a few feet away to a more secluded area of the field, before she turned to him and tucked some hair behind her ears; another nervous habit he recognised.

"So I know I did a lot of thanking in my speech but I kind of wanted to say thank you to you specifically," she said. "Because you’re… You’re different, you know?"

Stan smiled a little. "Yeah."

The only thing Stan could think to equate their relationship to was a divorced couple. Too much history to be just friends, but not the right emotion to be more than exes. They were friends of course but it was nuanced. Very grey.

"I kind of have this planned so I’m just gonna say it, and I know you’ll think it’s cheesy but whatever: I genuinely don’t think I’d be the person I am without you," Wendy said. "And we’ll always be each others first loves. We’ll always have that. So I just want you to know how much you mean to me, how much you’ll always mean to me."

Stan felt a lump start to form in his throat. "Jesus Wen, you know I’m not good with words," he mumbled, wiping at his eyes to try and discourage tears from forming in the first place.

Wendy laughed and wiped a tear off her cheek. "How about just a handshake then?"

She extended a hand but Stan ignored it in favour of a hug. "Thank you," he whispered. "For being you."

"See… You’re not as bad with your words as you think," she said. She pulled away and held him at arm’s length. "I’ve gotta go. I’ll see you at Tolkien’s?"

"Wouldn’t miss it."

Wendy squeezed his arm before heading towards her parents. Stan watched her, before he turned and tracked down his friends.

Kyle had managed to avoid his mother for the time being, but they had been joined by Marjorine.

They’d not been as close since about sixth grade, when she started transitioning into a girl. Mostly the kids in their class hadn’t really cared, in fact a lot of them probably would’ve bet money on it, but Cartman was Cartman and that definitely drove her away. She mostly hung out with the other girls these days, but Stan knew she was still very close to Kenny.

"Oh hiya Stan!" she greeted cheerily. "Enjoying the event?"

He shrugged. "Yeah it’s alright. You?"

"Well yeah I suppose. It’s my last chance to see all of you guys," she admitted. "My folks grounded me for the whole summer."

Kenny’s eyes went wide and he took on the air of a dog with hackles raised. "They what?"

"It’s my own fault this time Ken. I let Bebe paint my nails red and they said if I’m gonna be a girl, well I should be at least be a respectable one."

"They can’t ground you all summer for that," Kyle said reasonably.

"Yeah they will though, they’re transphobes and misogynists," Kenny shot back.

Marjorine scratched the back of her neck. "Well yes but I um… Jeez, I kind of argued back to them. My dad was not pleased with that."

Cartman snickered. "I didn’t realise you had a spine."

"Neither did I!"

Kenny still looked upset but he smiled a little. "I say good for you. And think of it this way, they can’t ground you at college."

Stan nodded in agreement even if he wasn’t so sure. The Stotches were a particular breed of psycho.

"Butters! Time to go!"

Speak of the devil. Marjorine wilted at the sound of her dad’s voice and waved goodbye to them. "Well bye fellas. Have fun on your trip! Take lots of photos for me!"

She pulled each of them, even Cartman, into a sweet hug before trailing over to her parents. Kyle shook his head sadly and folded his arms.

"Poor girl," he said. "You know every time I start to complain about my parents being strict I just think about them and…"

"Yikes," Kenny concluded aptly and Kyle nodded. "But, you know speaking of the trip, that’s definitely still happening right?"

The trip in question was a road trip to Florida. Stan had a hockey scholarship to the University of Miami (which he wasn’t thrilled about but he didn’t have much else going for him) and they were going to take a significant chunk of their summer driving over. Then they’d go to the airport, where Kyle would get a flight to Rhode Island, Cartman to California, and Kenny back to Colorado. It was a last hurrah of sorts.

"Course it is is dude, I’ve been waiting all year for this," Stan promised.

Kenny nodded coolly but the desperation in his eyes wasn’t missed. "Okay. Cool. Just cause I already got the time off and everything, which was not easy by the way."

"Poor people problems," Cartman muttered.

Kenny glanced at him but decided to ignore him. "Kyle your mom’s coming over."

Kyle groaned. "God. Run, all of you save yourselves."

Stan considered it but was ultimately too late. "Boys I simply must get some photos of you all together," she insisted. "Group up."

Stan stood at Kyle’s side and reached for Kenny, but noticed he’d stepped back out of frame. "What are you doing?" he asked.

"Oh. Well I mean I don’t have the like…" He gestured at his head and body. "You know?"

"Stop being silly Kenny, you’re wasting time. Get in," Sheila instructed.

Kenny swallowed and stood between Stan and Cartman. They stayed like that for what felt like forever before Sheila was satisfied. She busied herself fussing with Kyle’s hair as his dad and brother came over, and Liane came over to pepper Cartman with kisses.

Kenny put a hand on Stan’s shoulder. "I’ve gotta run. I’m on my lunch break and I only get an hour," he explained.

Stan nodded. "I’ll see you tonight right? At Tolkien’s?"

Kenny shrugged. "Dunno. My boss is kinda evil, I’m not sure I’ll get off in time. But I’ll see you tomorrow morning if not."

Stan felt a little disappointed at the idea of Kenny missing out but he nodded. "Alright dude. See you later."

Stan watched him leave before heading over to his own parents. His mother enveloped him in a bone crushing hug and his dad patted him on the back.

"You’re all grown up," his mom said tearfully.

For the first time, those words felt real. It was slightly terrifying.

 

~*~

 

Tolkien’s yearly end of school parties were usually ragers but this one was off the charts. Their whole class, with the exception of Marjorine, was there, drinking and dancing and jumping into the outdoor pool. Stan had gotten completely caught up in an intense game of beer pong, him and Kyle vs Craig and Clyde. They were losing, badly, mostly because the more Kyle drank, the worse his hand eye coordination got.

Thankfully they weren’t subjected to an official loss, because Tweek came out the backdoor and Craig swiftly abandoned the game for his boyfriend. Clyde groaned and dropped his paddle.

"Every fucking time," he muttered.

Stan shrugged and decided he wanted a proper drink, rather than one that had been warming up in a cup for the last half an hour. He headed indoors and turned to glance over his shoulder at Kyle, who was close behind.

"You heard from Kenny?"

Kyle shook his head. "I don’t think he’s coming dude."

Stan shrugged it off but he couldn’t help the disappointment he felt. It was turning out to be a really fun night, but it would be better if Kenny were there. Most thing were improved by his presence.

Still, Stan was determined to enjoy the rest of the night with his friends. He got to dance with Wendy when Heidi, her previous dance partner, got tired. He didn’t step on her feet this time so it was already better than the last time they danced; eighth grade winter formal. He’d thrown up then too, but at that point she’d been prepared and brought a barf bag along. It was probably the most romantic thing anyone had ever done for him. Actually it definitely was.

Soon after he ended up slouched on the couch with Tolkien, leaning into each other and laughing at absolutely nothing. Stan liked Tolkien, a lot. He was a good friend, and they still spent a lot of time together when they were both at their respective family farms. He realised with a pang that he hadn’t told Tolkien how much he was going to miss him, but the door swung open before he could get the words out. There was a couple excited greetings and Stan looked over the back of the couch to see Kenny.

Kenny in a dress.

It was green, complementing his tan skin, and looked silky. Stan wasn’t sure what the style was called but it was the same kind Bebe often wore; thin straps and a loose neckline.

"I brought booze," he announced, holding his backpack up. "Where do you want it?"

Tolkien pointed to the kitchen. "Nice dress dude."

"Oh thanks. I just grabbed the first thing I found that was clean." He shrugged like he regularly wore gorgeous party dresses, like this wasn’t actively frying Stan’s admittedly alcohol soaked brain.

Stan followed Kenny to the kitchen, inexplicably drawn to him. He suddenly understood why all those pirates were sailing their ships into rocks for sirens.

"Hey Stan," Kenny said when they arrived at the kitchen. He unzipped his bag and pulled out several bottles of liquor that he put down with the others. "What’s up?"

"What are you wearing?" Stan blurted out.

Kenny looked down at himself, then back at Stan. "It’s a dress. Do you not like it?"

"No it’s nice— It’s fine. Just… Are you not worried about like…" Stan gestured vaguely.

Kenny understood, he always did, and grinned, reaching up to pinch his cheek. "Don’t you worry about me, I’m tougher than I look. But if I do need a big strong man to protect me I’ll come find you."

Stan swatted him away but smiled despite himself. "Alright, alright. I get the point."

Kenny’s smile widened. "I’m gonna go bother Bebe for a while."

He squeezed his arm on the way past and Stan found himself turning just to watch him leave. It really was a nice dress. It suited him, actually, weird as that was.

Stan shook his head in an attempt to clear it, and poured himself a generous measure of liquor, plus a little bit of lemonade just to take the edge off, into his cup.

"Dude," Kyle said, suddenly appearing over his shoulder. "Did you see Kenny’s in a dress?"

Stan took a long sip of his drink, which seemed to be an adequate response.

The party flew by in a blur after that. It was all a haze of drinking and dancing and a little bit of crying over how much they were all going to miss each other, until Kenny grabbed his hand in blinding clarity.

He genuinely looked like he was glowing under the pale lights, like a ghost; or an angel. Stan’s breath hitched in his throat and he hiccuped. He was way drunker than he thought, and that dress was really confusing him.

"Come for a smoke break," Kenny said. "Please? Kevin stole my cigs."

Stan nodded and let Kenny lead him outside to Tolkien’s ridiculous backyard. He rocked back on his heels impatiently as Stan pulled a box of cigarettes out of his back pocket. He passed one to Kenny who stuck it between his lips and looked at Stan expectantly.

"No lighter either?" he asked.

Kenny smiled. "Does this thing look like it has pockets?"

Stan looked him up and down and decided that no, it didn’t. He sighed. "Alright give me a second."

His lighter was a fiddly little thing he stole from his dad and never lit on the first try. Eventually he managed it and Kenny leant into the flame. He pulled away and exhaled gratefully.

Stan lit his own cigarette and blew a cloud of smoke up to the stars. Then he looked down and saw Kenny was wearing his beaten up Converse and mismatched socks. Stan laughed. He’d honestly been expecting him to have worn heels to complete the look, but this made a lot more sense. It was much more Kenny.

Kenny didn’t ask what was so funny but instead laughed just because Stan was. It was  a nice moment; intimate even.

They finished their cigarettes in a comfortable silence. Stan was grateful for the reprieve; even though he was having fun, he wasn’t really a party person and a breather was definitely needed.

"Sorry I was late," Kenny said after a moment. "Fucking… Larry."

Larry was his boss at the auto shop. He was a skinny middle aged guy who was greying at his temples and smoked like a steam engine. He was covered in tattoos and piercings and, secretly, Stan thought he looked a little bit how he imagined Kenny would in about forty years. He never said that though, because Larry was an absolute asshole and as such Kenny would not take it as a compliment.

"He’s been giving me all kinds of fucking problems cause I’ve got the vacation days booked for the next couple weeks," Kenny explained. "The jackass said that—"

Kenny stopped himself and sucked on his cigarette like it was an inhaler, like he needed it. When he was done he did look a little calmer.

"It doesn’t really matter," he concluded. "He’s not a problem anymore."

"No?"

"No."

Stan didn’t push further even though he did want to know exactly what Kenny meant by that, and instead just followed suit as he crushed the butt of his cigarette under his sneaker. Kenny flashed a sweet smile and tilted his head towards the door.

"I don’t wanna deprive the others of your company much longer," he teased.

"I’m sure nobody’s missing me too much," Stan replied.

Kenny shrugged and pushed the door open. "I don’t know about that. I would."

Stan followed Kenny inside, unable to keep a smile off of his face. He trailed after him to the kitchen to get a drink, then out to the living room where they bumped into Cartman. Stan took a moment to look around for Kyle, but couldn’t see him anywhere. Probably for the best.

"What’s up poor boy?" Cartman asked.

Kenny shrugged. "Not much fat boy, what’s up with you?"

Stan never really knew how to take their unofficial nicknames for each other. He’d always thought they were a little too on the nose.

"Did you raid your mom’s closet or something?" Cartman sneered.

"A dress this slutty? I found it in your mom’s. I had a snoop around her room after I slept with her."

Stan choked on his drink and Cartman grit his teeth. "Why?"

"Why did I fuck your mother? Well I don’t know." Kenny made an explicit gesture with his hands. "Awooga you know?"

"I mean why are you wearing a dress, God," Cartman snapped. "Is it for some joke I don’t know about?"

"No. I just wanted to wear it."

Cartman paused for a moment, raking cool brown eyes up Kenny’s body. "Are you a fag now, Kenny?"

Kenny didn’t even flinch, just took a long sip of liquor and ran his tongue over his bottom lip when he was finished. Then he put his cup down and folded his arms over his chest. "You might be the last person on earth to find this out, Eric, but I always have been."

Cartman scowled. "Yeah I know you’ll put your tongue down anyone’s throat. I just mean now you’re a proper queer-mo, like Butters."

It all happened so fast after that; Kenny sighed heavily, pushed his hair out of his face, then Stan blinked and he’d punched Cartman in the jaw. Someone cheered.

It must’ve been a hell of a punch too because, despite their significant size difference, Cartman crumpled. Kenny stomped on his chest and leant down to look him in the eye.

"Say that shit about Marjorine again, I fucking dare you," he hissed.

Cartman pushed Kenny off and dragged himself to his feet, hand cradling his jaw. "Jesus fucking Christ Kenny, you’ll do what you pussy? Blind me with your shocking gayness?"

"You don’t wanna know what I’ll do you ignorant fat fuck."

"Get outta here Cartman," Tolkien said, coming out of nowhere and pulling Kenny away before he could swing again. "Or I’ll call the cops."

"Kenny assaulted me! You should be calling the cops on him, he’s a fucking psycho!"

"Well yeah but we all actually like Kenny."

"Fucking weak," Cartman muttered. "I’m gonna get you back poor boy."

"Cannot wait," Kenny replied.

To everyone’s surprise, Cartman left relatively quietly after that and Tolkien passed Kenny over to Stan.

"Get his hand some ice, you know where it is," Tolkien said. "I’m gonna go make sure he’s not lurking around."

Stan nodded and watched Tolkien leave before giving Kenny’s shoulder a little shake. "You good Ken?"

"I… I think I need that ice," he admitted, flexing his hand which looked a little like it was already starting to bruise. "I thought hitting someone as fat as him would be like punching a marshmallow but… No. It hurts."

Stan laughed and led him towards the kitchen. "You hit him pretty hard."

"Well I did tell you I’m tougher than I look." Kenny hopped onto the counter. "And he pissed me off. Earlier there was all the shit about me not graduating, now this."

Stan hummed and got the ice pack from the freezer. He wrapped it in a tea towel, recalling the time they learnt first aid in Scouts and they said not to put ice directly onto skin. Stan still wasn’t sure why, he just knew to do it and that he didn’t want to fuck up Kenny’s hand.

His left hand, because of course Kenny was left handed. Stan wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to articulate why it made sense but it did.

"But you only punched him when he brought up Marjorine," Stan said after a moment of holding the ice to Kenny’s knuckles.

"Well yeah. She wasn’t around to defend herself and even if she was…" Kenny shrugged.

Stan nodded, understanding what he meant. Marjorine was far more confident these days but not that confident.

"But if he didn’t talk about her would you have just… let him say that about you? Call you a fag and stuff?" Stan asked.

Kenny looked thoughtful for a moment. "Probably. Cartman says all kinds of shit to me, to all of us. I have a pretty high tolerance. But maybe I’m just using Marj as an excuse and I would’ve done it anyway. I don’t know."

Stan stayed quiet for a while after that, just holding the ice to Kenny’s knuckles. He had interesting hands; long, slim fingers, bitten nails, rough from manual labour. Every winter his knuckles cracked open and went red in protest of the low temperatures, but they were healed now. Or they were, anyway, until Kenny split them open on Cartman’s jaw.

Stan smiled. "Well I’m pretty sure you’re everyone’s personal hero now," he said. "I mean you just humbled him so bad."

"Eh. It’s not like I Testaburger-ed him," Kenny dismissed.

To Testaburger had become a slang verb amongst their grade, and was even occasionally used in the ones below, meaning ‘to beat the shit out of’. This was, of course, in honour of that day in fourth grade that felt like it would go down in legend. Stan wasn’t sure he’d ever forget it.

"True," Stan agreed. "But I don’t think his jaw or his ego will recover very quickly from being nearly KO-ed by a quote unquote fag in a dress."

Kenny looked at him in surprise then burst into laughter. It was all warm and golden and Stan realised for the first time that Kenny was kind of pretty. He wasn’t looking at the dress anymore, just at his face and his collarbone and his shiny hair and—

Suddenly Stan felt a familiar feeling in the pit of his stomach; like he was at the top of a roller coaster after drinking a huge milkshake and also he was upside down. He stepped back and put a hand over his mouth instinctively.

Oh.

Oh no.

"Stan? You good?" Kenny asked, voice thick with concern. He slid off the counter and took a step forward but Stan held his other hand out in an attempt to keep some space between them.

"I’m gonna go to the bathroom," he mumbled. "Stay here."

"But I—"

Stan didn’t hang around to hear what Kenny said next. He didn’t run but it was a close thing, an awkward sort of speed walk, through Tolkien’s stupidly huge house. Luckily he’d spent enough time there playing board games or just trying to escape from his dad for a little bit, that he knew the quickest route. Still, he barely made it in time and fell to his knees in front of the toilet without even taking the time to shut the door.

He rested his head against the toilet seat when he was done, tears stinging his eyes. It was just the alcohol, it was just the alcohol, it was just—

"Dude what’s your issue?"

Stan looked up to see Kyle shutting the door behind him. He sat down on the floor beside Stan and sighed, reaching out to push his sweaty hair out of his face.

"I let you out of sight and this happens," he muttered. "How much did you drink?"

"I— I don’t know," Stan stammered. "I was fine and Kenny punched Cartman and—"

"Kenny did what? How did I miss that?"

"I was icing his hand and suddenly he was looking at me and I—"

Stan’s stomach churned and his throat burned, and he bent over the toilet again. Kyle put a hand on his back and rubbed circles between his shoulder blades like he always did. Stan wasn’t really sure what he’d do without Kyle.

"Please tell me the Kenny thing is unrelated and you just drank too much," Kyle murmured.

Stan sniffed and spat into the toilet. "I don’t think so."

Kyle groaned, expressing a sentiment Stan shared. " Oy ."

Stan swallowed and wiped his hand on the back of his mouth, then looked at Kyle intently. "Does this make me gay now?"

Kyle’s eyes widened in surprise before he bit down on his lip, clearly amused by the whole thing. "I’m actually not sure anymore."

Notes:

I hope you liked that first chapter! I plan on updates every Monday, but I’ll be sure to give warning if possible if there’s something that’ll change that.

Chapter 2: Call Cartman For A Good Time

Notes:

A little bit early this week, but I got roped into helping out with an event for one of my classes and figured better to be early than late! I also want to say thank you for all the kind comments on the first chapter, this fic is very near and dear to my heart so it was lovely reading them all <3

Stan woke up to a fierce headache and the sound of familiar voices speaking in hushed tones.

"I’m not saying you’re wrong, I just think that her later albums still maintain a high and consistent level of quality that a lot of artists don’t achieve, you know?"

"I mean yeah they’re good but they don’t have the nostalgia factor of her old work and— Oh I think Sleeping Beauty’s up."

Stan sat up and rubbed at his eyes. When he dropped his hands he saw Kyle and Kenny sat in his room; Kyle at his desk chair and Kenny cross legged on top of the suitcase he’d packed a few days before.

"Morning sunshine," Kyle said dryly. "How’s your head?"

"Bad… How long have you been here?"

Kenny glanced at his watch. "About three hours. Your mom let us in."

Kyle looked at his phone and nodded to confirm. None of them trusted Kenny’s watch. It had been his grandfather’s or something, and the leather strap had been replaced three times but was still clinging on for dear life, and the face was scratched and cracked beyond belief. But it was also probably the most valuable thing he owned, so none of them said anything.

"We were meant to leave over two hours ago," Kyle said.

Stan winced. "Sorry?"

To his surprise, Kyle just shrugged. "Doesn’t really matter now. Cartman hasn’t shown up yet so…"

Stan glanced at Kenny. "Are we seriously still bringing him?"

"We need the gas money," Kenny said flatly, and with a lot of reluctance. "It’s fine. I’ve always been his favourite so his revenge will probably be swift."

It was true; Kenny was probably the closest thing Cartman had to a best friend. Stan wasn’t sure if he admired Kenny’s patience or questioned his morals. Probably a bit of both.

"Just get up, shower, have some water," Kyle said, walking over and grabbing Stan by the armpits, then hoisting him out of bed. "Seriously shower."

"Why, do I smell?"

"Like a very sweaty brewery that someone threw up in."

Stan grimaced and shuffled towards the door. "Okay okay I get the point."

"Let me know if you need a hand with anything," Kenny said casually, not even looking up from his phone.

"Excuse me?" Stan spluttered.

Kenny looked at him. "Like with packing or chores or anything. I just wanna leave ASAP, man."

Stan felt his cheeks turn red with embarrassment. Jesus Christ. "Oh. No I’m all packed, you’re sat on my case and my backpack’s downstairs."

Kenny gave him an odd look and a thumbs up. Kyle sighed heavily and shoved him out the door.

"You’re an embarrassment," he informed at a whisper, and Stan was inclined to agree.

 

~*~

 

After Stan showered and Cartman still wasn’t there, they decided to drive over to his house and collect him instead. They loaded their bags into the trunk, Kyle vocally pleased with how nicely everything fit. That was only because Randy was meant to drive up to Florida with the rest of the stuff Stan would need for college so he’d been able to pack light. He wasn’t really holding out hope for that one anyway; Shelley would probably end up doing it and she’d complain the whole time. Liane and Kyle’s parents would be doing the same for him and Cartman, and of course Kenny would be coming right back home, so it wasn’t really an achievement that anything fit.

Stan didn’t say that though, because Kyle really did seem proud of them for being economical or whatever, and Kenny didn’t either, choosing to just roll his eyes and shoot Stan one of those looks they often shared.

Then Stan’s mom came out and pulled him into a bone crushing hug. He patted her weakly on the back. "Mom I can’t breathe," he wheezed.

She let him go and held him at arm’s length. "You call me," she said firmly, eyes shining suspiciously. "Call me every single day, I’m not kidding."

"Yes mom."

"And make sure to wear sunscreen, don’t let yourself burn because that’s how your grandmother got skin cancer," she continued. "And use your inhaler! I know you think you don’t need it but—"

"Mom," Stan hissed, feeling his cheeks burning. Seriously, he hadn’t really needed to use his inhaler in years.

She smiled softly and put a hand on his chin. "I’m sorry to embarrass you in front of your friends Stanley. I just worry, it’s my job."

She reached up to kiss his forehead, then opened her arms for Kyle and Kenny. They both hugged her and let her fuss with their hair.

"Kyle good luck at Brown," she said. "And Kenny, I’ll see you soon."

"Bye Mrs Marsh," Kyle said and Kenny waved mutely.

And then they were off to Cartman’s house. Stan was grateful Kyle was driving his car, because his eyes were honestly a little foggy with tears. Thankfully he got it under control before they got out at Cartman’s. That would’ve just been a whole thing he didn’t want to deal with.

"He’s probably not even out of bed," Kyle muttered as Kenny approached the door.

Stan shrugged and squinted in the sunlight. His headache had come back with a vengeance and he just felt grim in general. He’d definitely over done it at the party.

Cartman opened the door with his usual mutterings about having to do everything in this house. "Oh hey Kenny."

"Did you forget about the trip we had planned or what?"

"Of course not. But now you’re here, can you do me a favour and stand right there?" He pointed a chubby finger at a circle he’d chalked out on the driveway.

Kenny folded his arms, looking throughly unimpressed. "This is some kind of revenge prank isn’t it?"

"Why would you think that?"

"Because I can see the rope Cartman, you’re gonna pull it and somethings gonna fall out of your window onto my head and it’s probably gonna suck," Kenny said exasperatedly.

Cartman scowled. "Goddamn it Kenny, just stand in the fucking circle."

"This is so stupid," Kyle muttered as Kenny threw his hands up in frustration and did as he was told. "Why’s he even doing it?"

"Probably cause otherwise Cartman will be a nightmare about his bruised ego," Stan replied. "Better to just let him get it out of his system here."

"He’s so childish."

Stan just made a vague noise of agreement and watched as Kenny waited impatiently for his fate.

As predicted, Cartman’s revenge was pretty simple. He tugged on a rope and suddenly Kenny was covered in something sweet smelling and red. To his credit, he took it with about as much dignity as possible, but he gasped in shock at the impact, like it was cold.

"Did you seriously just Carrie me?" Kenny said flatly

Cartman smiled. "A little bit."

"This is a slushee— Dude, you didn’t even Carrie me, you Glee parody Carrie-ed me. That’s so much worse."

"I was gonna use actual pig’s blood, but I’m keeping it Kosher for Kyle!"

"And I thank you for making your petty revenge inclusive," Kyle said tightly, "but now Kenny’s all sticky and he’s gonna have to go home and shower and we’re going to be even later."

Cartman grinned and turned the hose on full blast, then pointed it at Kenny. Stan put a hand over his mouth because he didn’t trust himself not to laugh, mostly at Kyle’s enraged expression.

"There," Cartman said, faux sweetly, turning the hose off. "Now he doesn’t need a shower."

Kenny stood there, dripping wet and mouth agape. He looked a little bit like a very surprised drowned kitten.

Stan decided to make himself useful and get a towel out of the trunk, that Kenny accepted gratefully. He ran it through his hair and looked at Cartman appraisingly.

"Are we even now?" he asked.

Cartman shrugged. "For now."

Kenny sighed. "That’ll have to do. Let’s not waste any more time."

And with that they through Cartman’s bags in the trunk and piled in the car. Kyle was driving; Stan was supposed to but they seemed to have both silently agreed he was far too hungover for that, leaving him in the passenger seat. Kenny and Cartman sat in the back; Kenny on the driver’s side, because Cartman still liked to kick the seat in front of him and Stan had a much higher tolerance for that than Kyle.

The car rumbled to life and Kyle exhaled shakily, placing his hands on the steering wheel. "Are we all ready?" he asked.

They all said yes, even though Stan was starting to think he was lying. All of them except Kenny, who just nodded mutely. He was being quiet today, apparently. Stan wasn’t sure if he should be worried or not. It happened, Kenny liked to go silent for long stretches of time with seemingly no explanation, but Stan couldn’t help but feel suspicious, like maybe it was sinking in for Kenny that he’d be coming home alone.

He didn’t have much time to dwell on it though, because Kyle started driving them out of town. A song was playing from someone’s playlist, probably Kenny’s because Stan hadn’t heard it on the radio before and he actually enjoyed it, and suddenly everything felt real. He was watching the streets he used to play knight and superhero on whip away into a blur and his chest felt tight. Of course he’d come home, for Thanksgiving maybe, Christmas definitely, and there’d be the summer of course, but it just wouldn’t be the same. He’d never be a kid here again.

"To infinity and beyond," Stan said after a moment as the road out of town approached rapidly.

Kyle snorted and Cartman groaned. "I can’t believe you just quoted Toy Story."

Stan found himself smiling. "It’s a classic!"

The exit sign had been graffitied in a way that made all of them, even Kenny, laugh: You are now leaving Hell. Stan thought it was fitting, but there was that saying about the Devil you know that left him feeling uncertain.

They sort of fell silent after that, the only noise to fill the car being the music. It definitely was Kenny’s playlist, because an ad started playing, causing Cartman to laugh and Kenny to snatch his phone out of the aux with a huff, pull his hood up, and cinch it until only his stormy eyes were on display. Kyle took over the music after that.

Sitting in the front seat as they made their way down windy mountain roads, Stan realised he really did feel sucky. He had drank a lot last night, but he’d kind of thought the vomiting would’ve helped.

"I was not the only one drinking last night, how are you all fine?" he asked.

"Kenny got me kicked out before I could drink too much."

"I take vitamins," Kyle said, like that made perfect sense and wasn’t at all infuriating.

Stan twisted in his seat and looked at Kenny expectantly. He must’ve felt eyes on him because he tore his gaze away from the window and looked at Stan. "I died last night."

Stan huffed a laugh. "Very funny."

Kenny didn’t even smile, just retreated further into his hood and went back to staring blankly out the window. Stan watched him for a moment more before turning back to face the road.

"Take a nap or something," Kyle suggested. "It’s still a while until we stop for lunch."

"Ugh that’s so lame," Cartman grumbled. "I’m starving."

"You’re always starving," Stan pointed out.

"I need some snacks!"

"Yeah like a hole in the head," Kenny muttered.

Kyle’s eyes widened a little but he didn’t say anything. Cartman on the other hand glared at Kenny. "Don’t be salty because I dumped cherry slushee over you. Honestly that was me being nice, you deserve a lot worse for how you embarrassed me last night."

"Maybe don’t call people names when they’re not around to defend themselves."

"Jesus fuck Kenny, we get it, you’ve got a major gay boner for Butters."

Stan’s stomach rolled uncomfortably. Kenny didn’t say anything to that, just pouted and looked out the window. He didn’t deny it and Stan felt sicker. Then he wondered why he cared, which just made him feel even worse.

"Let’s just play nice, both of you," Kyle suggested. It wasn’t really like him to mediate when Cartman was involved, but Stan was immensely grateful for it. "We’re stuck with each other now and Stan’s got a headache."

"Oh poor Stan can’t handle his liquor," Cartman grumbled.

"I can too!" Stan replied even though he knew he sounded childish. "Anyway not all of us weigh fucking four hundred pounds and have the tolerance of an elephant."

"I do not weigh four hundred pounds!"

"And four hundred pounds is a really small elephant," Kyle commented. "Like really small, even if it was a baby. I thought you’d know that, you like animals and shit."

"Whatever," Stan said, deciding this really wasn’t an argument he wanted to have. "I’m gonna sleep this off."

 

~*~

 

Stan didn’t wake until they stopped at a diner, further into Denver than any of them had ever been, and piled into one booth. Stan got to sit opposite Kenny (and wondered exactly when that had become a reward for him) and paid for everyone’s lunch as an excuse to cover his too. He wouldn’t be able to do that every time but maybe if he teamed up with Kyle, Kenny would have a few good square meals on this trip. Cartman would usually chip in, albeit whilst complaining about it, but he seemed to be determined to be his worst self all summer so Stan wasn’t holding out hope.

"So the plan is to get to the campsite before sundown," Kyle said. "We can probably afford to stop for gas later—"

"Dude we’re gonna have to, my car’s only little and we didn’t fill it up before we left," Stan reminded.

Kyle nodded. "Yeah okay, so we stop for gas and to take a piss or whatever, and that’s that."

Kenny shot him a thumbs up as his mouth was full of onion rings. Cartman didn’t have the same reservations and just spoke around his fries. "Why are we even camping anyway?"

"Cause it’s cheaper," Kyle said.

"And it’s fun," Stan added quickly, after seeing how Kenny scowled and sunk deeper into his hood. "It’s only for one night anyway, we’ll probably get motels after that."

Cartman nudged Kenny. "Ooh get ready for the best bed you’ve ever slept in."

Kenny glared at him. "Fuck. You."

"Cartman just… don’t okay?" Stan said, because Kyle had his teeth bared and Kenny looked straight up murderous, like he was waiting for Cartman to say something further so he could wrestle with him on the sticky diner floor.

Secretly though, Stan thought Cartman maybe had the tiniest beginnings of a point since Kenny slept on a very shitty mattress at home. Kyle looked like he agreed; he’d long been of the opinion that Kenny always complaining about being stiff or sore wasn’t from the manual labour he did, but rather from his grim sleeping situation. Even the shittiest motel bed would probably do him a world of good.

They killed around another twenty minutes just walking around the parking lot, trying to loosen up. Kyle spent probably that whole time trailing behind with Kenny, trying to cheer him up, but Stan was fairly certain Kenny didn’t say a single word until they were about to get back into the car.

"Thanks for lunch," Kenny mumbled, suddenly right at Stan’s side. He pulled a fairly measly looking wallet out of his jeans and started taking out a few dollars. "How much do I owe you?"

"Nothing. Like I said, my treat."

"Stan—"

"I paid for everyone, remember?"

Kenny scowled again, it was quickly becoming his default expression, and he was obviously a little bitter but tucked his wallet away, which Stan considered a success.

Since he felt a lot better now, Stan drove this time, and Kyle graciously allowed Kenny the front seat, promising he could deal with Cartman until they stopped for gas. Kenny seemed to appreciate it but didn’t say anything, just strapped himself in passenger side and rested his head on the window. Stan didn’t realise he’d fallen asleep, probably pretty instantly, until the gap between songs allowed him to hear his breathing had slowed way down, the way he’d come to associate with Kenny being asleep. It was a little jarring that he could recognise it so easily, without even looking at him.

"Oh man, Kenny’s like completely passed out," Stan said, craning his neck to get a better look. "He’s drooling on the window."

Kyle snickered and leant forward to have a look too. "I can’t believe he crashed so quickly."

"Give him a break, he probably just ate the biggest meal of his whole life," Cartman said. "Dude’s gonna be in a food coma for like a year."

Stan looked once more at Kenny, who did seem to have a little colour in his cheeks now that he’d eaten, before refocussing on the road. "You’ve gotta cut it out with the poor jokes dude, he doesn’t find them funny anymore."

"It’s not my fault he’s being a moody bitch lately," Cartman replied.

"No it’s not, but after this trip we’re not gonna see each other for months and I know you don’t want your last memory together to be like this," Kyle said. "As much as you pretend otherwise, he’s your best friend, so don’t ruin it by being you."

Cartman miraculously fell silent after that, but Stan couldn’t bring himself to believe that meant this whole debacle was over.

 

~*~

 

When it came time to stop for gas, Stan reached over and gently shook Kenny awake. He didn’t really startle, just squeezed his eyes shut and stretched his legs out as far as possible before slumping in on himself again.

"My neck hurts," he mumbled.

Stan snorted softly. "Come on, we’re getting gas."

Kenny yawned but nodded and climbed out of the car, Stan close behind. Cartman and Kyle were already bickering about how to use the gas pump, and Cartman turned around when he heard them coming.

"Kenny you do it, you’re the professional and all," he said, holding the pump out to him.

"We only pump gas for, like, the disabled or the elderly," Kenny said. "Everyone else does it themselves, I work the register."

"Okay? Kyle drives like an old person, that counts."

Kyle glared at him. "I drive safely!"

"Whatever, Kenny just do your job!"

Kenny scowled but took the pump and shoved it roughly into the tank. Stan glanced at Kyle, who was already looking at him in a way that could only be described as fearful. None of them liked it when Kenny was in a bad mood, and he’d been grumpy all day with no signs of improvement. Stan half expected him to return to normal after a meal and a nap, like he was just grouchy because he was more hungover than he appeared, but apparently the reason for his mood was less superficial than that.

"I’m gonna go to the bathroom," Kyle said after a moment. "Kenny you can handle this?"

"Yup," Kenny replied, popping the P. His jaw was weirdly tight.

"Cool. Here." Kyle threw his wallet and Kenny caught it in his spare hand, then stashed it in his pocket.

"Wow never thought I’d see a Jew giving money away so freely," Cartman commented. "But I guess charity’s different right? Actually Kyle, I wouldn’t trust Kenny with your money he’ll probably steal it all."

"Stop being a dick Cartman," Stan snapped, noticing how Kenny was glaring at him resentfully, his spare hand curling up into a fist. As amusing as it would be, they really didn’t need to deal with another tussle. "We’ll go get some snacks."

"Fine only cause I know you’re gonna try and get that hippie vegan shit if I’m not there to intervene."

"I literally eat meat."

"Yeah but still."

Stan rolled his eyes but allowed himself to be satisfied with how he’d diffused the situation.

Cartman seemed happier when he’d stocked up on candy and met Kyle back at the car whilst Stan went to the bathroom. He found Kenny already in there, washing his hands, and he barely looked up when Stan entered.

"Are you okay?" Stan asked, mid-piss because for some reason he thought that would make it less awkward.

It actually had the opposite effect, and Kenny resolutely did not look at him until he was finished. "I’m fine."

Stan went over to the sink and washed his hands, extra hard. Of course he would’ve done it anyway, but he wanted to specifically make sure Kenny knew he was hygienic. For some reason.

"You’re in a bad mood," Stan pressed. It was a little like poking a bear.

Kenny grit his teeth. "Cartman’s just being a dick, what else is new?"

"We could ditch him on the highway," Stan suggested, only half joking. "Problem solved.

To his surprise Kenny actually laughed but shook his head. "Even if I wanted to, we both know he’d just find his way back anyway. And then he’d have it out for us all."

"I don’t know why he’s so mad at you," Stan admitted. "We’ve all punched him at least once."

He still remembered the first time he did. They were thirteen, and Sparky got put down, and Cartman just said something casual about ‘Stan’s dead dog’ and he’d snapped. Ironically, Kenny had been the one to pull him away; Kyle had just egged him on, but that shouldn’t have been all that surprising.

"Because he’s a bigot," Kenny dismissed with a shrug.

"Yeah but you’re you. He’s always had a soft spot for you, or as soft as he gets anyway. And besides it’s like you said last night, it’s not news."

"I guess this is different." Kenny shrugged. "Honestly I think he’s just upset about us all going our separate ways and he doesn’t know how to cope. Kyle already gets it, now I am, he’ll find something to attack you for by the time we’re in Miami. It’s easier to say goodbye if we all hate him."

Stan hadn’t really considered that. Sometimes he honestly didn’t think of Cartman as anything other than a cartoon villain, but Kenny had always been able to see the best in him, which was exactly why this whole thing was so surprising.

There had to be something going on under the surface that Kenny wasn’t telling them about, but Stan couldn’t think what. The only thing that came to mind was that Kenny had obviously been a little off at the party, but he’d thought nothing of it at the time.

"Or maybe he’s just an asshole. Either way it’s not right," Stan pointed out eventually. He resolved to mention his theory to Kyle later, but couldn’t do much else about it for now.

Kenny nodded and held his hands out in a what can you do? sort of gesture. But then his expression changed, sort of lit up, the way it did when he had an idea.

"That face means trouble," Stan said, because it did. Always.

Kenny looked at him, hesitated for a moment, then pulled a sharpie out of his pocket (why did he have that? Stan had no idea) and scrawled a phone number on the door. Stan quickly recognised it as Cartman’s.

"I think I’m gonna do that in every bathroom we stop at," Kenny said decidedly.

After a moment he added a message to the end: call me for a good time.

Stan laughed. "You’re kind of evil."

"Yeah well. Two wrongs make a right or whatever."

"That’s not how the saying goes and you know it."

Kenny rolled his eyes, jaw tight, seeming to go back to his grouchy mood at the slightest criticism. "Whatever. Revenge is a dish best served cold then."

"More fitting."

 

~*~

 

The campsite Stan had chosen was one that came recommended by Jimbo. It was in an apparently very safe forest, and they got their own little clearing with facilities like a bathroom about a ten minute walk away. There was a lake that was good for swimming, although they probably wouldn’t use that, and as long as they followed the safety guidelines they’d be just fine.

Stan actually liked camping. Nature was one thing he’d always cared about, no matter how much Cartman made fun of him for being a wimp or a pussy because of it, and there was something about it that just relaxed him. He remembered the first time they’d been camping together, and how jealous Stan was when Jimbo and Ned took Kenny under their wing. That had been the first and probably only time he thought he might’ve hated Kenny, and it seemed so stupid looking back.

"What’s up with Kenny?" Stan asked as he and Kyle finished unloading everything they needed from the car.

Kyle raised an eyebrow; he looked like his dad, all lawer-y and sophisticated and grown up. "Is it not obvious?"

"No, I know he’s upset about college and everything but… Okay, look, he was fine yesterday. I mean I think he was kinda weird at the party maybe but he’s literally never been this easy to set off ever," Stan reasoned. "The dude’s got the patience of a saint."

Kyle frowned and put a hand on his hip. "So you think there’s something else he’s not telling us?"

"It’s just what my gut’s telling me man." Stan knew it didn’t sound convincing even as he said it.

But Kyle just nodded, like it did, always one to humour him. "I’ll talk to him later. You think something happened between graduation and the party?"

"Yeah I think so. But I don’t know. Maybe he just finally got sick of Cartman."

"As much as I wish you guys finally joined me on that train, I don’t think so. He’s been kinda dickish with all of us, Cartman’s just been pushing his buttons more."

Stan tilted his head in agreement. It was weird. Kenny could be cruel when he wanted to, but Stan, and Kyle as far as he was aware, hadn’t ever really been on the receiving end of it. It normally took a combination of a shitty day and a little liquor for Kenny to even attempt to get confrontational, but that rarely lasted long and it was never intentional like this. Maybe Stan should’ve seen it coming; he’d been growing less and less dismissive of the jokes about his finances ever since he dropped out, and it was probably selfish to expect him to remain happy go lucky about it forever.

"Speaking of those two," Kyle said in a way that Stan knew meant he wouldn’t like what came next. "If they’re gonna be at each other’s throats the whole time we’re gonna have to rethink the sleeping arrangements."

Stan grimaced. The original plan was that he’d share a tent with Kyle, and Kenny would share with Cartman. Now though, that seemed like a recipe for disaster. "And I’m assuming you don’t want to shack up with Cartman."

"How’d you guess?" Kyle said dryly. "Look dude, he rips on you the least. Sure sometimes he calls you a wimp or whatever, but Kenny seems to be taking that heat for you cause of that stupid dress so just step up."

"Maybe they’ll be fine," Stan said. "Like if they spend enough time together they’ll grow to like each other again."

"So you’re suggesting Stockholm syndrome?"

"…Maybe?"

Kyle huffed a laugh. "I mean I guess we’ll give it a go. I’d rather not have to keep them separate all trip."

Stan looked up. "Yeah cause we’re doing such a good job so far."

Kyle followed his gaze over to where Kenny and Cartman were bickering about who knows what, and sighed heavily. "This is gonna be the longest trip of my life."

They reached them just in time for Stan to stop Kenny hitting Cartman over the head with a stick, which was honestly not something he thought he’d have to do at this age. Cartman still shrieked like he’d been hit and pointed at Kenny accusatorially.

"That’s assault!" he yelled.

"I’ll fucking show you assault," Kenny shot back.

Stan did the only thing that made sense in the moment and lifted Kenny off the ground. He kicked out with his legs ineffectively and dug his nails into Stan’s forearm, but he couldn’t break free. Stan had gotten pretty strong thanks to all those years of playing hockey, and whilst Kenny was scrappy he didn’t really have a chance when he was off the ground like that.

"Let me go," he hissed.

"Take a walk Kenny," Kyle suggested, standing between Cartman and the rest of them. "Throw rocks at birds or something. You need to let some energy out."

"Don’t throw rocks at birds," Stan said firmly. "But yeah, go."

Kenny finally stopped fighting Stan’s hold so he put him down. He adjusted his parka and pushed his hair out of his face before turning towards the woods. "Fuck you guys!" he yelled over his shoulder.

"Don’t get eaten by a bear!" Cartman responded, causing Kenny to whirl back around and take a running start at him that Stan had to once again intercept.

"Go," he hissed, manhandling Kenny and shoving him in the right direction. "Seriously I don’t wanna see you for like fifteen minutes at least."

"Fucking fine," Kenny snapped.

Stan sighed and watched him go before heading back to the others. Kyle smacked Cartman round the back of the head and all Stan could think was that he showed great restraint.

"Why are you mad at me? I’m the victim here!" Cartman insisted.

"Just sit there and shut up whilst me and Stan do the tents," Kyle said firmly. "I mean it, don’t say a fucking word cause next time we really won’t stop him."

Stan nodded in agreement and the two of them went to start putting the tents up. They worked surprisingly quickly, and had everything up and secure ready for bed in about an hour. Kyle was starting on the beginnings of a fire when Stan realised Kenny still hadn’t come back.

"Are you good with that?" he asked. "Cause I’m gonna go find Kenny."

Kyle nodded. "Yeah I’ve got it. Be careful."

"I warned him about the bears," Cartman muttered, breaking a surprising streak of silence.

"Kenny’s not been eaten, tubby," Stan snapped, but he still felt a little bubble of anxiety in his stomach thinking about it. They all knew Kenny was accident prone, and he could’ve gotten into all kinds of trouble on his own in the time he’d been gone.

Thankfully he found Kenny very alive and not at all eaten in about ten minutes. He’d found the lake and was sat on a log overlooking it, sipping from a flask with his parka tied around his waist. It was so bright Stan spotted him easily.

"Nice flask. Very prohibition," Stan commented.

Kenny didn’t startle at the sudden comment, just turned around and shrugged. "Figured I’d need it to get through this thing. And I was right."

Stan sat beside him and accepted the flask when Kenny wordlessly handed it over. Tequila. Not his favourite.

"Are you feeling calmer now?" he asked, passing it back.

"Not really but I’m not gonna try and attack him again," Kenny promised.

"What did he say this time?"

"More shit about Marjorine." Kenny scoffed. "He asked if because I wore a dress that made us lesbians."

Stan hated the way the first thing he felt was jealousy. Kenny and Marjorine had always been close, but he’d never thought they were in that way. But it made sense; Kenny was always the one who was nice to her when they were kids, and with the way he grew up it would be hard not for her to like him. It’s not Stan’s fault if she realised that quicker than he did, and if Kenny liked her back.

Stan inhaled deeply. "So pretty par for the course from him."

"Yup."

Kenny fell silent and Stan took his opportunity. "Speaking of you and Marjorine…" he angled. He wasn’t sure if he even wanted to know, if there was a good answer Kenny could give.

"We’re friends," Kenny said, very firmly like he’d been asked this a lot before. "I mean I kinda think she might’ve had a thing for me once but… just friends." He made a flat gesture. "Nothing more."

Stan looked at him, unable to feel anything but skeptical. "Really?"

"Yeah dude," Kenny said exasperatedly. "She’s great but I… I don’t know. Maybe in another life or whatever, but in this one I look at her and I just don’t feel the thing ."

"The thing?"

"Yeah. The thing that made you," he poked a finger into Stan’s chest, right over his heart, "puke your guts out whenever Testaburger even looked at you for too long. Besides I’ve had my sights set elsewhere for a long, long time now."

Stan’s breath hitched, almost embarrassingly, and his stomach rolled with anticipation. "Who?" he asked quietly.

Kenny looked at him and licked some tequila off of his top lip. Then he shook his head. "No one. I’m just laser focussed on getting out of South Park. Dating is a second priority. And you know what? Even if we put all that aside, and none of it was an issue, Marjorine would still deserve better than me."

Stan smiled sadly. He wasn’t sure what he was hoping for there. "I don’t think that’s true."

"Come on. After everything, the least she deserves is a good guy."

"I know. I’m saying you are one, Ken."

Kenny seemed mildly surprised and helped himself to a few more mouthfuls of liquor. Then he stood up, wobbling a tiny little bit, and tucked the flask away into his coat.

"You are too," Kenny said quietly, so hushed it almost went missed as Stan stood up.

Stan wished he could believe him, but he knew better than that. "How’s your hand?" he deflected. Maybe Kenny would assume he didn’t hear him.

Kenny looked down at his bruised knuckles and flashed a smile. "Oh. I’m good. The gun show is back in business, don’t you worry."

He flexed, and he was joking but Stan realised his arms were surprisingly sculpted for how skinny he was. The work they had him doing at the auto shop was no joke, Stan just hadn’t noticed thanks to the parka he loved to wear all year round. Well, that and the fact that honestly Kenny’s arms hadn’t really been a point of interest for him until approximately 24 hours ago.

"We should go back before Kyle murders Cartman," Stan said slowly, tearing his eyes away from Kenny’s bicep and back to his face.

Kenny shoved his hands in his pockets and let Stan lead him towards the campsite. "Wouldn’t be the worst thing," he murmured under his breath, clearly not intending for Stan to overhear.

He did though, and semi-agreed.

 

~*~

 

Stan liked sharing a tent with Kyle, because he was very good at keeping to himself. He slept all curled up in a ball, and he was quiet too. He didn’t snore or sleep talk or anything of the kind. It was kind of freaky actually; when he slept he could easily pass for dead.

"How much did Kenny drink?" Kyle asked as he crawled into his sleeping bag.

Stan frowned. "I don’t know. He was coherent and shit but he was sort of wobbly. He’ll be fine to drive tomorrow I think."

"He better be. I’m not dealing with hungover Kenny on top of pissy Kenny again."

Stan laid back on his pillow. "I think we just need to cut him some slack."

Kyle hummed noncommittally. "We’ll see. I’m so tired dude, it’s been a long fucking day."

Stan grimaced. "It’s not been a great start," he admitted.

"Understatement of the year," Kyle replied. Then he yawned. "Goodnight dude."

Stan shut his own eyes and found a comfortable position. "Night Kyle."

Stan wasn’t sure if he got any sleep, or if he just drifted in and out, but the next thing he knew it was raining loudly and something was outside his tent, fumbling with the zip. His breath hitched. Animals were one thing that he was relatively prepared for, but he couldn’t think of an animal that knew how to work a zip. He naturally assumed the worst; axe murderer.

Turns out it was just Kenny, but Stan still felt his soul leave his body as he entered the tent.

"Don’t freak, it’s just me," Kenny whispered, too little too late.

Stan slumped, a hand on his heart. His pulse was going nuts. "Not cool. I thought you were a serial killer."

Kenny snickered. "I’m bored. Can I hang out here?"

It was a pretty pathetic excuse but Stan allowed it, moving up to make room for Kenny between him and Kyle. It was their usual layout for sleepovers, a Kenny sandwich as Kyle’s mom dubbed it when she first saw them like that. Stan still subconsciously called it so in his head.

Kenny smiled gratefully and took the spot, looking over at Stan with tired eyes. "Thanks," he murmured.

"No problem. I already felt bad about saddling you with dough boy over there."

Kenny jerked a shoulder dismissively and pulled his sweater over his fingers. "It’s fine."

"Kenny…"

"I said it’s fine, seriously. I’m just being sensitive or whatever."

Stan bit his lip and decided not to push it. Even though he’d long been considered the wimpy emotional one, he had absolutely zero idea how to handle all that. He felt a little bad, but Kyle and Kenny were both pretty good at it and definitely did more than their fair share of emotional labour.

"I’m gonna try and get some sleep," Stan said quietly. "Stick around as long as you want."

Kenny nodded and Stan felt his stomach lurch as he thought that he looked inexplicably and deeply sad. It was just in his eyes, the slope of his brow. Or maybe Stan was reading too much into things that weren’t there, so he pushed the thought from his mind and closed his eyes, letting the sounds of rain and his friends breathing steadily lull him to sleep.

Notes:

Thanks for reading the second chapter, I hope you enjoyed! As a sidenote, I’ve been thinking about using the twitter account I made in July then never used once, so I can update people and maybe make some Stenny friends but I’m not too sure since twt is a whole mess right now…

Chapter 3: Name A Rat Baby After Me

Kenny had always been cuddly. It’s like he turned into a heat seeking missile in his sleep and gravitated towards the nearest warm thing he could wrap his arms and legs around. In this case, it was Stan, which explained why he woke up feeling like he was in a sauna: very, very sweaty.

"Kenny," he mumbled, lifting his head slightly, eyes still crusted with sleep. "Ken."

Kenny groaned a little at the interruption and pushed his face into Stan’s collarbone. "What?"

"I’ve gotta pee dude. Go cuddle Kyle."

Kenny pried himself away and laid face down on the ground. Then after a moment of that, he rolled over and tossed an arm over Kyle’s chest, all without opening his eyes. It was almost impressive.

Stan extricated himself from the tent and made it probably ten feet away before he puked into the brush. He was getting pretty good at holding it in. He briefly wondered if that was healthy.

The campsite bathroom was blissfully empty and Stan pissed, then splashed some water on his face to try and make himself feel a little less dead. His back hurt and he was stiff, but overall he actually slept fairly well. He’d expected to be cold, but Kenny helped him out with that. His face burned thinking about it.

By the time Stan came back, Kyle and Kenny were both up and sat by the remains of last night’s fire. Cartman was nowhere to be seen.

Kyle was reading from the box of Pop Tarts they’d brought, and Kenny was staring at one of said Pop Tarts like it held the secrets of the universe. He looked exhausted, and nearly fell flat onto his back when his phone rang. He looked at the screen and cursed, stood up, and stuck the Pop Tart into his mouth before answering.

"Yello," he said, about as dry as possible.

Stan snorted and sat down beside Kyle, watching as Kenny listened to whoever was on the other line. He scowled as they spoke and gestured vaguely to Stan and Kyle to excuse himself.

"I already told you, I’m out of town and—"

Stan didn’t hear the rest as Kenny stomped away, but he could tell it wasn’t good. "How’d you sleep?" he asked Kyle, deciding not to dwell on it.

"Fine." Kyle frowned. "I did wake up being spooned by Kenny though."

"Oh yeah my bad. I had to go pee so I kind of passed him off to you."

Kyle huffed a small laugh. "He’s always been clingy I guess. When did he come in?"

"Like three ish? Half three? I don’t know, he said he was bored but I think he just couldn’t stand to be around Cartman all night."

"I think he is hungover," Kyle said, instead of what he obviously wanted to say, which was ‘ I told you so’.

"I don’t know, he didn’t seem drunk when he came into our tent. I think he’s just tired. And you know he’s really never been a morning person."

"Either way he’s probably gonna be in a bad mood again." Kyle sighed. "I haven’t had a chance to talk to him yet. He didn’t tell you anything last night, did he?"

Stan shook his head. "Not really. We talked about Marj. They’re just friends so I doubt it’s that."

Kyle nodded. "I did wonder if they… you know." He made a vague gesture to convey the rest of his point.

Stan shrugged to try and hide the mild sick feeling in the pit of his belly. "Maybe I was wrong. Maybe it is just cause we’re leaving him behind."

"Don’t phrase it like that," Kyle chastised.

"Is that not what we’re doing?"

Kyle opened his mouth to respond but quickly snapped it shut as Cartman ambled out of his tent. He sat down and snatched a Pop Tart from the box.

"Where’s the pleb?" he asked. "He’s missing his favourite."

Kyle glared at him. "Will you lay off him for one day? I think you’ve tormented him enough."

"I was just asking a question, Kyle, I don’t want him to go unfed," Cartman snapped around a mouthful of pastry.

"He’s taking a phone call," Stan said. "We’ll go once he comes back."

"Good cause I need a proper breakfast," Cartman said. "IHOP or something."

Kyle groaned. "Ugh yeah, I actually really want pancakes now you mention it."

"Well if you two agree on something we’ve gotta do it," Stan commented. He looked at his phone. "If we leave now we’ll make it in time."

Cartman hopped up with more hustle than Stan had ever seen from him, outside of his nefarious schemes of course. "Then let’s fucking move. Chop chop."

"Okay I’ll supervise here and make sure he doesn’t leave without you if you go get Kenny," Kyle said.

Stan nodded. "Deal. I’ll meet you at the car."

Kenny hadn’t gone far and he was no longer on the phone when Stan found him. He didn’t seem angry either like he initially had with whoever was on the other end of the line, but there was definitely something off. The only way Stan could think to describe it was as a frazzled aura.

"Hey," Stan greeted. "You good?"

Kenny’s shoulders jerked in surprise but he flashed Stan a tired smile. "Yeah. Why, do I not look it?"

"Well you look alright to me but Kyle thinks you’re hungover," Stan said. He could see it honestly; whilst Kenny usually had permanent dark circles, they were particularly intense today.

"I’m not." Kenny frowned and held his fingers up, less than an inch apart. "Maybe a little bit. Mostly I’m just tired."

"That’s what I thought," Stan said. He wasn’t sure why, it was like he wanted to prove to Kenny that he knew him.

"Do you want a prize?" Kenny asked lightly, humouring him.

"Depends what it is."

"Don’t know. I’ll think of something and get back to you."

Stan smiled and pointed to the phone hanging loose in Kenny’s hand. "Who called you?"

"Oh. Kevin. Work stuff you know." Kenny waved a hand dismissively.

"There’s not a problem is there?"

"No," Kenny said, not very convincingly. "I told you, my boss isn’t an issue anymore."

Stan thought back to the party and the feeling that Kenny was omitting something came rushing back. "Okay. Cool. If you say so."

Kenny narrowed his eyes. "I do say so."

"Look dude I’m not trying to pry or anything, but I just—"

"Have you ever noticed you do that?" Kenny interrupted.

Stan frowned, caught off kilter. "Huh?"

Kenny pointed at his ear. "You pull on your earlobe when you’re uncomfortable. Same way you bite your tongue when you’re concentrating, it’s like an unconscious thing I think."

Stan realised a Kenny was right, and he was pinching his earlobe between his thumb and forefinger. He let his hand fall to his side. "How did you notice that?"

Kenny shrugged and fiddled with his phone. "I’m the quiet one. And maybe I pay special attention to you."

Stan smiled. "Flattering. Creepy but… flattering."

Kenny smiled too. "Yeah that’s my sweet spot. The McCormick guarantee. We’re leaving, right?"

"Yeah Kyle sent me to get you. We packed all your shit up and we’re gonna go to IHOP. Cartman’s driving."

"Oh great. Everyone’s taken their motion sickness pill?"

"Kyle brought spare noise cancelling headphones for the road rage."

Kenny snickered. "I’ve gotta say I’m kinda guilty of that too," he admitted, starting back towards the campsite.

Stan fell in line beside him. "Me too. Something about roads just really pisses me off I guess."

"I’ve been wanting to backseat drive this whole trip as well. Kyle especially good fucking grief. Not to agree with Cartman but he seriously drives like a grandma."

Stan snorted but didn’t reply as they were quickly approaching the car. He put his tongue between his teeth as he fiddled with getting the keys out of his pocket, then looked up to see Kenny smirking at him. He tilted his head in acknowledgement and turned back to conversation with Kyle as Stan unlocked the door and passed the keys to Cartman.

They stopped at an IHOP in Greeley, which Kenny claimed made his PTSD (which he was not diagnosed with in any way shape or form) flare up. Cartman called him a wuss and they dissolved into bickering about the week they shared in foster care. It said a lot about their young lives that Stan had honestly forgotten that even happened. It was pretty low level crazy by South Park standards.

"All I’m saying is if any of you order Dr Pepper here I’m gonna flip the fucking table and I’m not even kidding," Kenny promised. Stan honestly believed him.

They did not get Dr Pepper; all of them ordered coffee. As for food, Kenny just ordered bacon and toast, Kyle’s offer to pay being shot down. Stan and Kyle both got pancakes, and Cartman ordered a waffle concoction that had far too much sugar and syrup to really hold any nutritional value at all. Stan wasn’t even sure it could technically be called food. Still, he devoured it all in record time.

Kenny on the other hand poked at his pathetic breakfast and barely ate any of it which was an immediate red flag. He normally ate quickly and always cleared his plate, even if he didn’t like the meal. He only ever picked at his food if he was completely preoccupied with something else. Nobody else seemed to notice though, not even Kyle, and Stan got the sense it would just cause problems if he brought it up.

As they were leaving, Cartman’s phone rang and he answered it angrily. "No! Lose this number you damn pervert!" he yelled, then hung up emphatically.

Kyle blinked. "What… the actual fuck was that?"

"People keep calling my phone and asking to fuck me," Cartman muttered.

Stan glanced at Kenny, who smirked before looking at Cartman innocently. "Why is that happening?"

"Maybe they’ve gotten his number confused with his mom’s," Kyle suggested.

"Hey now, Liane deserves better than that," Kenny said. "She was a very gentle lover and didn’t even charge me."

"God damn it Kenny, did you or did you not sleep with my mother?" Cartman snapped.

Kenny shrugged. "You’ll have to ask her."

He winked at Stan, making his stomach do a happy little backflip, and ignored all further attempts from Cartman to interrogate him. Clearly Kenny was in a much better mood today, and Stan could already see things looking up.

 

~*~

 

As it turned out, there wasn’t a lot to do whilst driving through the fucking middle of nowhere America. Cartman was grouching about how all the roads looked the same and Stan agreed. It was a pretty lame trip now that he thought about it; it’s not like they were driving through Vegas or anything. Kenny wanted to see Nashville, but he didn’t seem to feel particularly strongly about it either way, and Cartman really wanted to go to a cowboy themed bar but that was all they had on their list.

"Maybe we just need to be more generic," Kyle suggested. "Like we should do some fun things that we could do anywhere."

"What like… bowling?" Kenny suggested.

Stan screwed his nose up. "Is bowling fun?"

Kenny shrugged. "I don’t see you coming up with anything better."

Stan held his hands up defensively. "Alright, touché."

"It’s just a shitty route. We should’ve gone to California," Cartman said.

"Shut up," Kyle snapped.

He and Stan had both fought for Florida, because it was a longer trip. Stan still thought that was a good decision, but he would admit that they maybe hadn’t perfectly thought it through. They could’ve driven up to Rhode Island and dropped Kyle off, at least then they could’ve seen New York.

Although at least it left their options open for future trips. If there were any.

"I like car rides," Kenny said after a moment. "I think they’re relaxing."

"Yeah you haven’t driven yet," Cartman muttered.

"Yeah cause it’s not my turn," Kenny shot back. "We’ll swap when we stop for gas."

"I like car rides too," Stan said, cutting the argument off before it could get too much steam. He caught Kyle’s grateful look in the rear view mirror. "Especially when it’s raining and it’s like drumming on the windows."

"That is so faggy Stan," Cartman commented.

"Stop calling things faggy," Kenny snapped. "It’s starting to sound like projection."

"According to the weather app you’re gonna get your wish Stan," Kyle said. Apparently they were just ignoring the others now. "It’s meant to rain a lot tomorrow."

Honestly Stan actually was excited. He’d always found rain atmospheric. "Cool. Summer rain is the best."

"It’s kind of nostalgic," Kenny agreed. Then he smiled. "Remember when we built a fort in your backyard and it rained all night but we refused to go inside?"

Kyle laughed. "And your dad forgot about us and just left us out there anyway."

Stan smiled. "Didn’t we all get sick after that?"

"I didn’t. I have a superior immune system," Cartman said.

"Yeah must be all the vegetables you definitely eat," Kyle drawled. "We could go to an aquarium, they’ve got a huge one in Missouri apparently."

"No dude, aquariums are cruel," Stan insisted. "And zoos."

"Jesus Christ, he’s on his Whale Wars bullshit again," Cartman muttered.

Kenny looked at him appraisingly. "I mean… he’s not wrong."

"He’s not actually on TV this time Kenny, we don’t have to lie."

"No I mean it. I’ve thought about it and yeah, it’s not very nice."

Stan couldn’t help but feel skeptical; none of his environmental efforts had ever been greeted with anything remotely like acceptance before. "Uh huh…"

Kenny shrugged. "Hashtag free Willy and all that."

"Don’t say hashtag out loud, it’s so tacky," Cartman commented. Kenny kicked the back of his seat in response.

"If I say something cheesy will you all hate me?" Kyle asked.

"Probably but you’re going to say it anyway," Cartman drawled.

Kyle rolled his eyes. "It’s about the journey, not the destination. And the company."

"Kyle?" Stan said.

"Yeah?"

"That was cheesy and I do hate you."

"Whatever dude. I’m right and you know it, you just wanna seem cynical and macho."

Stan shrugged and didn’t disagree.

 

~*~

 

Stan got out at the gas station with a single goal in mind. He needed candy. He stupidly hadn’t packed any of his own, and watching Cartman snack on his large stash that he refused to share had made him hungry.

Kenny followed him into the store, but he seemed to have a different endgame. He picked up a dirty magazine and flipped through it idly, grinning at what was probably a particularly vulgar page. "You know you can really tell that they think the model’s best feature is her boobs."

Stan raised an eyebrow and looked through the candy selection. It seemed dangerous to keep the stuff most sought after by children next to old fashioned porn, but who was Stan to judge? "Is it not the boobs?" he asked.

"Well yeah those are fucking great but some of  these girls are really pretty facially, you know? Like this one has nice eyebrows."

He showed Stan the page and he snorted. He’d been right, it was very explicit. "Yeah, I don’t think many people are looking at her eyebrows."

"Probably not, but that’s a shame. It really enhances the whole experience."

"Sure Ken."

"I’m serious. A lot of the time people’s best features aren’t super obvious but it just makes them hotter overall when you realise it. Like yours."

Stan blinked. "Hm?"

Kenny looked up, eyes a little wide like he hadn’t meant to say that. "Um. Kyle’s probably getting impatient, we should go. I’m just gonna let you think that one over, you know? I’ll tell you when you really need an ego boost."

He patted Stan on the shoulder and breezed out, stuffing the magazine in his backpack as he did. Stan followed him out feeling almost entranced, and joined Kyle, who looked anxious to leave.

"Got everything?" he asked.

Kenny nodded and opened his bag, flashing the magazine to Kyle. "Just the necessities."

"Like you need more porn."

"Well I got a discount."

Kyle raised an eyebrow. "Seriously?"

Kenny smiled. "Yeah. A five finger discount."

Cartman snorted, Kyle looked horrified, and Stan suddenly realised he’d also forgotten to pay for his candy.

"Will you relax?" Kenny asked after almost a minute of Kyle’s jaw hanging open. "As a gas station employee myself I can guarantee that the guy in there would not have given less of a fuck if we went in with gasoline and matches and burned the place down whilst they were in it."

"It’s still immoral," Kyle hissed.

Kenny shrugged and opened the driver’s side door. "I’ll hash it out with Satan when I next see him. Come on, we’re on a schedule aren’t we?"

"I can’t believe him," Kyle muttered, climbing into the back.

Stan just nodded and hid his stolen candy in his jacket pocket before getting in the passenger seat. He didn’t really want it anymore.

Kenny drove like he was on the run from the cops, or like the speed limit was a suggestion more than a hard rule. Thankfully, Kyle had fallen asleep and Cartman followed quickly after, because they both would’ve told him to stop. Stan, however, kind of liked it. It was stupid and reckless, but fun.

"Who taught you to drive?" he asked.

Kenny glanced at him and smirked. "Kevin."

"And who taught Kevin?"

"He was self taught."

Stan nodded. "That explains a lot." He paused and frowned. "How did he teach himself?"

"I don’t know," Kenny admitted. "Wikihow, I guess."

"Jesus Christ."

Honestly, though, Stan thought maybe that was better than his experience learning. Randy had yelled at him basically every single time. Once Stan cried at a stoplight, which was a mistake he only made once but was probably the lowest moment of his life. He remembered casually mentioning it to Kyle, and his expression had twisted into something so sympathetic it circled back around to condescending. Kenny had laughed. Stan wasn’t sure which was worse.

"I was serious about the whales earlier," Kenny said suddenly. His eyes were glued to the road. "I feel like you thought I was just being patronising or whatever."

"Maybe a little bit," Stan agreed.

"I really mean it. Dying… isn’t fun. Understatement of the century, but you know. Being killed just because for something they can’t even understand isn’t fair."

Stan got the sense that this wasn’t entirely about whales and noticed Kenny’s knuckles starting to go white as he gripped the steering wheel. His left hand was still torn open from punching Cartman, but scabbed over and bruised now.

"Is it difficult to drive cause you’re left handed?" Stan asked.

Kenny looked over, surprised about the sudden change in topic, but then he smiled. "A little bit. If I had the money maybe I’d get a left handed car like they have in England but…"

"Wouldn’t your mirrors be all wrong then?"

"Maybe. I’m not sure honestly. This world just isn’t built for lefties," he sighed. "Like scissors."

"Remember when we were really little and Cartman refused to sit next to you because your elbows kept knocking together when you were writing?"

"Yeah I always had to sit on the end."

They lapsed into silence. It was comfortable; Kenny was humming idly to a song on the radio that Stan didn’t recognise, and Cartman’s soft snoring from the back was familiar. But Stan wanted to talk to Kenny more. He enjoyed it, and soon he wouldn’t be able to, except over the phone which wasn’t the same. He wouldn’t be able to see his funny little micro expressions, or his smile, or how he liked to talk with his hands.

"Earlier you were going to say what my best feature is," Stan said, both because he couldn’t think of anything better to bring up and he really was curious.

"Ah. You do want the ego boost."

"No," he lied. "Just… curious."

Kenny grinned and drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. "Okay fine. I’ll tell you. It’s your chin dimple."

Stan frowned. "Seriously?"

"Seriously. It’s very Superman. I just wanna like…" Kenny reached over and touched his chin, smiling a little. "You know?"

Stan grinned and swatted his hand away, his face burning from the contact. "Eyes on the road."

"Yes mom."

Stan rolled his eyes and rubbed his chin, suddenly very aware of it. He didn’t like it, it made him look too much like his dad. "No one’s ever said that before."

Kenny shrugged. "I was going for unique. If I was being basic I’d say your eyes. I mean they’re sorta terrifying cause they’re such a light blue but… I like them."

Stan huffed a soft laugh. "You have great eyes. They’re, like, kind."

"I have kind eyes?"

"Yeah. But I mean, I wouldn’t say that’s your best feature either," Stan said before he could stop himself.

Kenny smiled a little. "Go on."

Stan cleared his throat. "I like your teeth," he admitted.

Kenny blinked, obviously surprised. "Really? I got voted worst teeth on the girls’ list every year since Craig got braces."

He also consistently ranked in the top five of the infamous cutest boys list; Stan and Kyle were usually somewhere in the top ten, and Cartman was consistently at the bottom.

"I know but… They give you character. And I like the gap." Stan shrugged faux casually. "It’s very charming."

Kenny smiled and shifted in his seat, clearly a little flustered. "Oh. Well um— Wow. Thanks Stan."

They went back to silence after that, right up until they stopped for lunch, but Stan didn’t mind so much this time. He liked watching Kenny concentrate. His eyebrows furrowed and he gnawed on his bottom lip and honestly it was cute. Stan had never really thought that about a grown person before, it always felt infantilising, but it was the only word that felt fitting for this specific expression of Kenny’s.

Overall though, his first thought from Tolkien’s party was the most accurate; Kenny was pretty. He had long, sandy lashes that framed round eyes, and a nice straight nose. Sharp cheek bones too, and there wasn’t an inch of his tan skin that wasn’t covered in freckles. And his hair. Jesus. It was golden and thick, perpetually messy with a spiky sort of cowlick at the back, and it fell down to his collarbone. Sometimes he tied it up, but his bangs were always framing his face.

Stan always thought he was jealous of Kenny’s looks, how effortless it all was, but now he was just appreciative, like getting to look at him was enough.

However in all this staring, he noticed Kenny looked… tired. A little pale. He was starting to get why Kyle thought he was hungover; he definitely didn’t look completely right.

They parked outside a Denny’s, and it took Kenny about three tries to get it right (during which Cartman and Kyle both woke up and all three of them started yelling). Stan was more than happy to get out and trail behind Cartman and Kyle, who’s usual bickering had been exacerbated by them both having been woken from their nap, but he quickly realised Kenny hadn’t followed. The other two, so absorbed in their argument that seemed to have strayed away from Kenny’s admittedly abysmal parking skills and onto movies, didn’t notice Stan slip away back to the car.

"Hey," he said, after opening the door to talk to Kenny.

He lifted his head from where he’d rested it on the steering wheel and made wide eye contact with Stan. "I’m coming, I’m coming, I just… They’re so loud."

"Yeah," Stan agreed. "Headache?"

Kenny nodded. "Yeah. Probably just from the driving."

He got out the car and swayed. Stan grabbed him by the arm. "Dude! Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Kenny promised and put a hand on his forehead that he then raked back into his hair, making it stick up even more at the back. "I’m good I just… get dizzy sometimes."

"You haven’t eaten," Stan remembered. "You didn’t touch your breakfast."

"I don’t think it’s that, I actually feel kinda sick."

"Yeah, because you haven’t eaten." Stan pulled Kenny upright and walked him towards the restaurant. "I’m buying you lunch."

"You bought me lunch yesterday," Kenny protested.

"Fine. Kyle!" Stan waited until Kyle turned around before continuing. "You’re buying Kenny’s lunch today!"

Kyle shot them thumbs up. "What’s up with him?"

"He’s stupid!"

Kenny smacked Stan but Kyle seemed to agree, or at least accept the answer. "I’m not stupid," Kenny muttered. "It’s not like I tried to skip breakfast I was just… elsewhere."

"Yeah I could tell. Come on you need a burger."

As predicted, Kenny was fine after he ate, but quiet. It took a little prompting to get him to finish his meal but he did, and Stan decided to take over the driving.

Kyle seemed to have caught onto what had happened and was fussing quietly over Kenny in the backseat. Eventually Kenny passed out with his head in Kyle’s lap; Stan definitely wasn’t jealous, definitely wasn’t thinking about how he’d run his fingers through Kenny’s hair if he were in that situation. As it was, Kyle kept his hands to himself, and Cartman still called them gay.

"Guys I’m really worried about him," Stan admitted when he was sure Kenny was really out. "I’m telling you, he’s hiding something from us."

Kyle frowned. "I think maybe, sometimes, you’ve just gotta let people have secrets Stan."

"Not if he’s clearly fucked up over it!"

"I… Look I’ll talk to him tonight but for now just leave him alone. I think that’s what he wants."

Stan’s gut told him that wasn’t the case, but he knew better than anyone that there was no point arguing with Kyle when he thought he knew best.

 

~*~

 

Kenny woke up briefly when they arrived at the motel, but promptly passed out again as soon as he got to his room. He’d be sharing with Kyle, and Stan got the short straw this time. The only upside was that they had separate beds, and Cartman was actually relatively easy to share a room with. For one night anyway; Stan pitied his future roommate at college, although he wouldn’t be surprised if he schemed his way into his own room somehow.

They ordered pizza and Stan almost bit Cartman just to make sure there was a few slices left for Kenny. Kyle left it in their room and Cartman settled in to watch a movie, and get what he called some much needed alone time, so Stan and Kyle decided to check out the pool. It was a motel pool, so it was just okay, and they sat at the edge, Stan with his feet in the water and Kyle with his legs tucked up neatly beneath him.

"I just keep thinking about how many other people have swam in it and—" He shuddered.

"You’re such a wimp Broflovski."

"I’m clean."

"I’m clean!"

"Debatable. You’ve got better hygiene than Cartman and I guess Kenny but that’s not exactly his fault so third overall."

Stan looked at him. "This is seriously something you’ve thought about isn’t it? You see how that’s weird."

Kyle grinned and shoved him. "You’re gonna miss my weird when you’re surrounded by Florida weird."

Stan laughed. "Maybe you’ll see me on the news as one of those Florida man headlines."

"I’d get that framed. Seriously, I would."

He smiled and knocked his shoulder against Kyle’s. "I am gonna miss you, you know."

Kyle smiled too. "I’m gonna miss you too, Marsh. I’m just trying not to think about it and bum myself out for the whole trip."

"Probably smart," Stan said and Kyle hummed.

Stan looked at him, before averting his gaze down to the water. It all felt very real, in that moment. Or it did, until the silence was interrupted.

"What’s up virgins?"

Stan turned to see Kenny walking up to them with a grin like he’d just told the joke of the century. He was wearing his swim trunks so must’ve gotten the memo. Stan moved up instantly to make space for him.

"You feeling better?" Kyle asked, ignoring the unconventional greeting.

Kenny waved a hand dismissively and sat down in the space between them. "Don’t worry about me, I ate the pizza and everything. I actually feel kinda gross now."

"It’s the grease," Kyle said. "And the sodium. We’re probably all gonna be fat and spotty by the time this trip is over."

Stan subconsciously reached up and touched his forehead, where an angry red mark had already formed. "Maybe we need to eat something green at some point tomorrow."

Kenny huffed. "I don’t know, anything that sticks to my ribs I’m happy with."

It was particularly unsettling, seeing Kenny shirtless like this with the curve of his ribs and just about every notch of his spine on display. His collarbone jutted out alarmingly, and his shoulder blades stuck out like wings. Of course Stan knew Kenny was skinny, and he knew exactly why, but being confronted by it always made him feel vaguely unwell.

"You know what I’ve been craving though?" Kenny said. "City Wok."

"I don’t know how you can even look at that stuff after working there," Stan said.

"Oh come on, it’s the best! I think I’m gonna try and get my job there back for the holidays. Mr Kim always let me take leftovers back and he pays pretty good."

Kyle grinned. "Does he still call you Dennis?"

"Obviously. I kinda like it. Dennis the Menace, you know?"

"Yeah… No."

Kenny shrugged. "Can I ask why we’re sat awkwardly on the edge of the pool instead of actually swimming?"

"Kyle doesn’t do public pools," Stan teased.

"I told you the risk of ring worm alone is—"

He was cut off by a splash as Kenny tipped forward and went head first into the pool. He broke the surface and pushed his hair back from his face. "I see a pool, I swim in it."

Kyle stood up and backed out of the splash zone. "I’m serious, if you get sick I’m leaving you here. Quarantine."

Kenny rolled his eyes and floated on his back. "Stan? You coming? It’s nice water. Warm."

"A breeding ground for disease," Kyle muttered.

Stan rolled his eyes and followed Kenny into the pool. He was right, the water was warm, and made only more so by the way Kenny smiled at him, all triumphant.

"See, Stan’s fun!" Kenny cheered, grabbing Stan by the shoulders and shaking him.

"Whatever. I’m gonna go to bed, I’ll see you later Kenny."

"Loser!" Kenny called and Kyle flipped them off over his shoulder before leaving. Kenny turned to Stan and stuck his tongue out, showing off the piercing he got a year or so ago. "He’s so lame."

"Do you remember the pee incident?" Stan asked with a growing smile.

"Oh yeah." Kenny shuddered. "That one was gross."

"A little bit."

They didn’t really do much in the pool. At one point Kenny tried doing a handstand and slipped, then tried doing a front flip only to bellyflop into the water with a loud, slightly painful sounding smack. The worst part was, Stan honestly found it endearing if a bit laughable, rather than just embarrassing. Then Kenny decided he wanted a piggy back and suddenly nothing was funny and Stan had to focus all his willpower into just not throwing up when Kenny wrapped his arms and legs around him, for the second time that day.

Eventually Kenny slid off his back, apparently having burned all the energy he’d saved with his cat naps throughout the day, and floated on his back. Stan did the same. There were no visible stars, it was a cloudy night so there was just inky blackness stretching out endlessly above them. It felt like a metaphor.

"You scared me today," Stan admitted quietly, for reasons he wasn’t totally sure of.

Kenny inhaled deeply. "I’m okay."

"You’re a good liar, Kenny," Stan said and Kenny was quiet for a long moment before turning over so he was treading water. Stan followed.

"I think I’ve been a bit depressed," Kenny said eventually. He sighed. "Like I’m not… You don’t have to suicide watch me, you know? I’m just like…" He shook his head and gave up.

"I think I know what you mean," Stan said quietly. "Sort of."

Kenny looked at him and smiled ever so slightly. "Maybe. If anyone would I think it would be you. You get me."

Stan held his gaze for a moment until it got too much. Kenny’s eyes were overwhelming to him; they were deep and tired and made him look a little bit grown up.

"We should probably get out," Stan said. "It’s getting late."

Kenny nodded in agreement and ducked back under the water to swim over to the ladder. Stan watched him climb out before doing the same.

Without really thinking about it he grabbed Kenny’s towel and ruffled it through his hair. Kenny laughed and stepped back, almost leaning into the touch, and when Stan pulled the towel away he was looking almost fluffy. Kenny then returned the favour and Stan could tell by the way he laughed that he wasn’t pulling the look off as well.

They wrapped their towels over their shoulders and walked back to their rooms, but Kenny stopped outside and went to lean on the balcony instead. Stan, not particularly eager to share a room with Cartman, followed. The view was nothing special, just road and headlights from cars that were still speeding past through the darkness, but the moment was nice.

"Are you excited for college?" Kenny asked suddenly.

Stan looked at him, trying to figure out exactly what Kenny wanted from him. If he said he was excited would it seem like he was rubbing it in? But if he said he wasn’t would it come across as condescending, like he was trying to protect his feelings?

He decided just to be honest. "I’m excited to get away from South Park," he admitted. He really was glad for that chapter of his life to be over; the only thing that gave him pause was that South Park would soon be almost synonymous with Kenny, and he did not want to be done with him.

"I would be," Kenny agreed. "That town sucks the life out of you. But it’s home, I guess."

Stan nodded. "I just… I have no idea what I’m doing. Hockey sure, but in Miami? I mean I know you must be thinking it, it’s weird to move from Colorado to play hockey."

Kenny smiled. "A bit of a downgrade, but you can’t help who picks you."

"That’s the thing I didn’t even choose this college. I… I don’t even know what I’m gonna study," he admitted. "I don’t know how to be realistic about what I want."

Kenny looked at him for a moment then sighed heavily. "Okay. Dare to dream, what do you want to do when you’re older if there was no strings attached or anything?" he asked. "Like what is the big thing that you want so badly you don’t even say it out loud?"

Stan thought about, stomach rolling as the first thing that came into his mind was just standing like they were, on a motel balcony, twenty years into the future. Except in his imagination, Kenny was holding his hand, pressed close to his side with his head on his shoulder, and they had matching rings on their fingers.

"I… I wanna make music," Stan said. It was still an honest answer, just in a different way. "It’s one of the only things that makes me really, you know… happy."

Kenny didn’t laugh like Stan sort of expected him to. "You’d be great," he said softly.

Stan looked at him to see him smiling so sincerely, so sweetly it made his teeth ache. "I wanna start a band, you know, and we’ll play sold out shows and people will connect with our music and stuff. That’s just like… I don’t know, it’s the dream."

"I’d be in your band, for whatever it’s worth." Kenny nudged him. "I was in your first one after all."

"That would be perfect," Stan admitted. He couldn’t really think of anything he wanted more. "So I just poured my heart out. What about you?"

Kenny hummed and shrugged. "There are so many things I wanna do," he sighed. "I guess the pipe dream is I’d love to race NASCAR."

"Oh yeah I can see it. You already drive at a million miles per hour."

Kenny grinned. "Shut up. It’s just like… I don’t know. It looks thrilling, it looks fun."

"Dangerous though," Stan reminded.

"Yeah and I wouldn’t be able to do it my whole life either, so I’d have to do something else after. Science maybe. I like science." Kenny looked at his hands. "That’s what I would’ve done if I stayed in school. Biophysics. I had it all planned."

Stan swallowed. "I’m sorry."

Kenny furrowed his brow and shook his head. "Don’t be. Just… don’t." He straightened up and looked at Stan with a smile. "So in this dream future is there a wife?"

"There’s someone," Stan admitted.

"Very mysterious. What’re they like?"

Stan smiled a little. "Funny. And kind. I think they’d be a good person to grow up with… Maybe good for kids, I guess."

It felt stupid to talk about it but he’d be lying if he hadn’t thought, just abstractly, that Kenny would be a good parent. He basically already was one to Karen.

Kenny grinned. "Do you want kids?"

"I guess. I kinda always just assumed it would happen, never put much thought into it other than that."

"I don’t think I do," Kenny said after a beat. "I don’t really want them to be like me."

Stan frowned. "Kenny what? You’re like the best person I know."

"Flattering. But I more meant like… physically, I guess. Remember that time when I got really sick?"

Stan swallowed and nodded. Sometimes he couldn’t look at Kenny without thinking about it; if he so much as coughed it was like being back in that hospital room when they thought he was gone.

"I googled it. It’s a genetic condition," Kenny said. "It’s still in my DNA, I just got lucky."

Stan felt panic flare inside of him. "Could you get sick again?"

"I don’t know honestly. But I’m not so I’m just taking that for whatever it’s worth." Kenny shrugged. "The point is my… body is wrong. And I don’t want to put a child through that."

Stan thought about it frowned. "You know… Same. Now that you say that, anyway. I mean my family tree is basically an alcoholics anonymous meeting," he said. "There’s a genetic part to that."

"God. I hadn’t even thought about all that."

"So maybe we’ll just be childless."

"Yeah. I mean realistically I’ll probably be alone."

Stan frowned. "You don’t wanna get married?"

"Course I do. But I’m not the guy you marry. I’m not the destination you know, I’m the pit stop."

Stan held his gaze until it physically hurt. "I don’t think you’ll be alone. I think I’ll be alone."

Kenny hesitated for a beat. "Well alone’s not all bad. I’ve been thinking about getting rats again, that could be like my thing as an old person. Instead of the grandkids I’ll have my rat babies," he explained.

Stan snorted. "Yeah I can see that. And I’ll probably die young and you can name a rat after me, in memoriam you know."

"Aw dude don’t do that," Kenny said softly. "You can be my neighbour at the old person home and we’ll get into all kinds of shit together. But slowly cause I’ll probably be deaf and you’ll have a cataract and we’ll both be fat or need a walker or something, but we’ll make it work!"

Stan smiled. "But I really wanted that rat named after me."

Kenny laughed softly and rested his head on Stan’s shoulder. "How about we grow into ugly old men together and I still name a rat after you anyway. And when you do die, of natural causes in your sleep, I’ll just hang myself and see you in the next life."

"Okay. We’ll do that," Stan agreed.

Kenny took his hand and shook it but held on even after the gesture was done. Stan looked at their fingers laced together and resting on the railing, and smiled to himself.

Notes:

Hope you enjoyed chapter 3! Next chapter is (I feel) an eventful one. Also as I mentioned last week I did end up starting to be active on twitter @espyonz and I’ll always be looking for new mooties and oomfies so yeah :)

Chapter 4: Melted Snow Vs Frozen Rain

Turns out that rain Kyle predicted was a full on rainstorm, that pounded against the windows, accompanied by wind that whistled through the trees outside. Stan was pretty sure it wasn’t a hurricane or anything, but it was definitely too bad to drive in. Everybody else seemed to have had the same idea and he hadn’t seen a car speeding by for almost an hour now.

"You’re being dramatic, we’ll be fine," Kyle insisted.

Stan tore his gaze away from the window and glanced at him. "Yeah… no."

"But if we use the wipers—"

"Kyle. No. It’s not happening."

Kyle slumped and sighed heavily. "I made such a perfect schedule Stan."

"I know," Stan said softly, putting a hand on his shoulder. "It’s okay."

Kyle didn’t seem to cheer up and tore his gaze away from the window. They’d all gathered in the room Stan and Cartman had shared when the rain woke them up that morning. Presently, Kenny was braving his way through the rain to the front desk to ask if they could stay late, and Cartman was just scrolling on his phone without a care in the world. It was enviable, honestly.

Kyle sat down in the armchair and drummed his fingers on his thigh. "What do we do now?"

"I don’t know," Stan admitted. "Wait for Kenny to come back and see if we can stay here I guess."

"Well if they say no we’ll have to drive."

Stan scoffed. "Fuck that man, we’re waiting it out in the car if that happens."

"Yeah… I think that would be what makes me finally snap and I’m just saying, Cartman would be the first to go."

Cartman looked up. "The feeling’s mutual," he said, and Kyle shot him a tired sort of thumbs up.

A few minutes later, Kenny came in and dripped all over the carpet. Despite his parka, his hair was plastered to his forehead and he was soaked to the bone.

"We can stay," he announced, trudging over to the bathroom with an expression that matched the weather. "Free of charge."

Nobody asked any follow ups until Kenny emerged in dry clothes with a towel slung over his shoulders for his hair, and sat down at the base of Stan’s bed.

"So what’s going on?" Kyle asked.

"I spoke to the woman at the front desk and she had to make some phone calls or whatever, but they don’t want people driving in this so we can stay until it dies down," Kenny explained. "So I guess we’re just stuck here."

Stan sighed and laid on his stomach with his head in his hands. "This is like the start of a horror movie."

"Well we all know who’d die first if that were the case," Cartman said.

"Yeah. Me," Kenny sighed.

"Why’d you say that?" Kyle asked.

Kenny shrugged. "I just would. It’s fine, opening kills are usually pretty cool. But I know for a fact none of us are final girl material."

"I think I could be," Kyle protested.

"Yeah you’d last a while but you’d be like the plot twist kill, you know? The one that shocks everyone and shows them the killer is serious."

Kyle looked oddly pleased with that. "Oh. Thanks."

"You’re welcome."

"Can we not talk about how we’re gonna get murdered?" Stan asked.

Honestly, he hated horror movies. Kenny loved them, and watched them almost obsessively; his personal mantra seemed to be the gorier the better. They just made Stan feel sick, so whenever it was Kenny’s turn to choose at movie night, he’d spend most of the time hiding behind his blanket. He wasn’t even ashamed of it anymore and no amount of teasing could force him to put himself through that.

They lapsed into silence, only the sounds of Kenny drumming his fingers against his knee and Cartman humming absently filling the room.

"We’ve kind of run out of things to talk about," Cartman said after a moment. "We’ve even exhausted the fucking weather."

Kyle frowned and sighed. "Uh… Anyone seen any good movies lately?"

"Yes but I’ve been banned from talking about horror," Kenny said. "It was really good too. This girl had her spine just pulled out of her throat and—"

Stan put his hands over his ears. "That is you talking about it, freak!"

"Her spine out of her throat? Is that even biologically sound?" Kyle asked.

Kenny shrugged. "I don’t know, but it was cool as fuck. She was still alive too."

Stan groaned loudly and honestly felt his throat burn just thinking about it. "Shut up, shut up, shut up."

Cartman snickered. "Come on, we don’t wanna give the baby a nightmare."

Stan looked at him flatly but took his hands off his ears since Kenny did seem done now. He didn’t seem guilty though, not at all.

"How’ve we ran out of conversation?" Stan asked after a moment. "You’d think after almost fifteen years that would be impossible."

Kenny shrugged and that was the end of that. Stan looked at the rain pounding against the window and groaned. This was sort of a nightmare.

"So is it like… a hurricane or…?" Kenny asked.

"No not a hurricane, just a lot of rain I think," Kyle nodded.

"Cool that’s… Yeah. Jesus, I’m bored."

"Go read the porn you stole."

Kenny grinned. "We can look at it together if you want."

"Don’t taint this motel room with your faggotry, pleb," Cartman said.

"It’s straight porn. And don’t call me a pleb, this isn’t fucking feudal times."

"Looking at normal porn with another dude is still weird."

"It’s kind of weird," Kyle agreed.

"Me and Stan were looking at it in the store!"

Stan’s head snapped up and he felt his cheeks turn red. "You showed it to me. I wasn’t— We didn’t— That’s not what happened!"

Kenny looked up at him with a bright smile. "See! Now we’re talking."

Stan shoved Kenny’s head to the side roughly. "Not funny dude, you’re making me out like a perv."

"Everyone does it, chill," Kenny dismissed.

"I don’t wanna talk about this," Kyle said. "It’s gross."

"You’re gross."

"Very mature, Ken. Can we just watch TV something?"

Cartman threw the remote at Kyle and smacked him in the forehead, resulting in more arguing. Stan groaned and Kenny sighed and leant back against the bed, tipping his head up to make eye contact. He looked funny from that angle and Stan couldn’t help but smile.

"What’s up McCormick?"

"Nothing much, what’s up with you?"

"Well my dumbass friends won’t stop arguing and it’s giving me a migraine."

Kenny grinned. "No way, me too. We have so much in common."

Stan snickered as Kyle turned TV on. They ended up watching a reality TV show about celebrities in the jungle, but Stan found himself watching Kenny. He was combing through his hair with his fingers, picking out knots and tangles as he went. Stan leant forward and tapped him on the shoulder.

"What?" Kenny whispered, eyes glued to the TV.

Stan wasn’t really sure what. "Do you know I can braid hair?" he said after a moment of internally panicking.

Kenny looked up. "Really?"

"Wendy taught me, cause she can’t do one behind her head on her own."

"Huh. I didn’t realise there was anything she was incapable of."

"Yeah well…" Stan shrugged.

Kenny smiled. "You know, if you wanna play with my hair, Stan, you only have to ask."

Stan felt himself flush. "That’s not what I was asking," he bluffed. Then he swallowed. "But can I?"

"Sure. I think it’s relaxing."

Kenny leant back and flicked his hair behind his head, offering it all up for Stan, then resumed watching TV. Stan spared the screen a glance and watched for a moment as an actress was forced to eat a cricket, then gathered all of Kenny’s hair in one hand.

His hair was cut into many layers, creating a shaggy appearance and thinning it out significantly. His actual hair was very thick, and if he let it just grow out it would probably be unmanageable. His hair was also very straight, which Stan envied. His own hair liked to curl up whenever it got wet, and he put more effort than he’d like to admit into making it look presentable whenever it was too warm to wear a hat. Kenny, however, just rolled out of bed and went about his day. Stan was pretty sure he didn’t even brush it regularly, he didn’t have to. It just fell effortlessly.

He separated a strand of Kenny’s hair and absently braided and re-braided it until his fingers started to feel numb and sore. He didn’t have an elastic or anything to tie it off with so he just draped it over Kenny’s shoulder and put his hands back in his lap. Kenny looked up at the absence of his touch and smiled slightly, and Stan thought (hoped) he looked almost disappointed.

 

~*~

 

After five hours, cabin fever officially set in.

They played Uno, a mistake because all four of them got heated, but particularly Cartman and Kyle who Stan then had to seat in opposite corners of the room for a few minutes, just so nobody lost an eye.

Then they played never have I ever, which was also a bad idea. They knew too much about each other, so all the rounds were targeted at someone specific and usually embarrassing. Or at least it was for Stan, who was forced to put a finger down for various vomit related questions, and Kenny, who was targeted for his old habit of putting literally anything in his mouth.

At some point Stan and Cartman both took a nap, and Kenny spent a long time staring at the wall and not responding like he was halfway between being awake and asleep, and now they’d officially ran out of things to do. Stan was sat backwards in the armchair, staring out the window. Kenny was still on the floor but he’d curled up into the foetal position on his side and when Stan last looked over he’d been chewing on his braid. Kyle was also on the floor, laying on his stomach with a notebook open, doing math for fun. Cartman was starfished on one of the beds and had gone very, very still.

It was fairly likely that they’d all lost whatever sanity South Park hadn’t already robbed them of in that motel room, and maybe that’s why everything escalated so quickly after that.

"We’d never deal with this shit in Colorado," Cartman said suddenly.

Stan looked over and found the others doing the same. "I mean we get like snow storms and shit."

"Yeah but that’s snow. This is rain."

"That’s just melted snow."

"Technically the other way around," Kyle corrected. "Like snow is frozen rain."

"No he’s actually right," Kenny said. "It starts as snow and ice and hail and shit in the cloud then melts on the way down."

Kyle blinked. "Sure," he said, more than a little condescending.

Kenny scowled and sat up. "I’m serious, google it."

"I’ll miss snow," Stan admitted.

Cartman sighed. "Me too. Like last night I was suddenly jealous cause Kenny can go build a snowman whenever he wants, and I don’t even give a fuck about snowmen."

"Lucky me," Kenny drawled.

And suddenly the gloves were off. Cartman sat up and glared at him. "You know what, yes lucky you! You get to go home and—"

"And what fatass? See my loving parents? Work a dead end job for my whole life? What? What do I have in South Park?"

Cartman shrugged. "You have Timmy." 

Stan inhaled sharply and Kyle swallowed. They should’ve all expected it from Cartman by now, but that was a cheap shot Kenny had no good way of responding to.

"That’s… Fuck you Cartman," Kenny muttered.

He curled up in a ball on the opposite bed, hood now not just up but also cinched tight, and Stan, foolishly, thought that would be the end of it. It wasn’t the first little outburst since the storm started, and probably wouldn’t be the last. It should’ve been meaningless.

But Cartman never knew when to leave well enough alone, and he yanked Kenny upright, tugging his hood down as he did.

"No fuck you Kenny you’ve been pissy with me all trip and it’s not fucking fair!"

"You keep calling me a fag, poor, and saying I’ve got no future," Kenny listed, counting off on his fingers. "Do I need to keep going?"

"Oh so what? You are a fag, if you didn’t want people to call you that you wouldn’t wear fucking girl clothes!"

"Cartman!" Kyle snapped.

He went ignored. "And yeah you’re poor but you’re the only one saying you’ve got no future which isn’t even fucking true cause you’ve already got a decent job!."

"I quit my stupid fucking job!" Kenny yelled.

Even Cartman stepped back in surprise, joining the others in staring at Kenny. He had that rare expression on his face, the one saved for those occasions that were few and far between, where he recognised he crossed a line.

Stan swallowed. "Kenny—"

"Fuck you!" Kenny yelled, seemingly to the room as a whole, before he stood up and stalked over to the door. He let it slam shut after him.

"Nice fucking going fatass!" Kyle yelled. He shoved Cartman roughly before stalking towards the door himself. "You just had to push didn’t you?"

"He was pissing me off!" Cartman responded. "He’s being sensitive!"

"Stan, watch him! I’m gonna talk to Kenny."

The very last thing Stan wanted was to be on babysitting duty, but he nodded. Kyle was much better at giving advice, and that was what Kenny needed right now. Someone who could be firm with him and tell him exactly why quitting his job was a terrible idea. Stan knew he couldn’t do that, not now anyway. If Kenny looked at him a certain way he’d probably just set himself on fire to avoid raising his voice. 

Cartman sat down on the end of the bed and folded his arms. "I didn’t—"

"Not a fucking word."

"But I—"

Stan glared at him. "Don’t make me punch you this time. Seriously, you’ve been a dick to everyone this whole trip and I’m honestly just about done with you."

"Kenny’s being an asshole too!"

"Yeah and Kyle’s dealing with him, so if anything you got lucky here," Stan snapped.

Cartman seemed to agree with that, or at least didn’t disagree enough to argue. He pouted and looked away. Stan watched him for a long moment before doing the same.

They were silent right up until Kyle came bursting back through the door, looking pretty close to the most pissed off Stan had ever seen him; which was really saying something. "I can’t fucking deal with him."

Stan stood up and grabbed a towel for Kyle’s freshly rained on hair. "Why? What’s he done?"

Kyle took the towel. "He’s just such an asshole! I didn’t realise he was so mean cause he’s just kind of chill most of the time but he fucking bit my head off as soon as I got in there."

"You see what I mean?" Cartman said.

"Shut up," Kyle gritted out. But then he looked at Stan. "I think we should just leave him to cool off for the night."

Stan watched as Kyle sat down on the bed and ran the towel through his hair. "Is that a good idea?"

"Probably not. Don’t care. I’m not talking to him when he’s like this."

Stan hesitated for about half a second before grabbing his jacket. "Fine. I will."

He left the room before anyone could argue with him, only to be immediately whipped in the face by what felt like a whole sheet of rain water. He shuddered but pressed on and hammered his fist against Kenny’s door.

"Kenny come on, we need to talk!" he yelled when there was no immediate response.

"Fuck off Kyle!"

"It’s Stan!"

Suddenly the door opened, so quickly Stan nearly fell through. Kenny pulled him the rest of the way inside before slamming the door shut. Stan stumbled a little and peeled his wet jacket off before looking at Kenny properly. He was crying. Stan couldn’t help but feel bad.

He hung his jacket and the rest of his wet clothes (so everything except his t-shirt and boxers) on the chair where Kenny’s were laying, leaving both of them similarly dressed; or undressed, if Stan were to split hairs about it.

Stan swallowed. "You need to apologise to Kyle," he said eventually.

Kenny rolled his eyes. "Oh yeah. You’re taking his side. No surprises there."

"Ken—"

"You don’t even know what he said to me and you’re just assuming I’m the bad guy!"

"Then tell me!"

Kenny grit his teeth. "He called me stupid."

"Because you’re acting like you are!" Stan blurted out.

Kenny flinched, like he hadn’t been expecting it from him. Truthfully Stan hadn’t either. But he was confused, and everyone else was angry, and it was making him angry too.

"I’m not stupid," Kenny said and he sounded more hurt than anything now.

Stan squirmed uncomfortably. "Yeah, I know, that’s why I said you’re… acting stupid, look I—"

"I know I fucked up, okay, I don’t need you to nag me about it," Kenny muttered. "Kyle’s already done that. Came in here reminding me about how I’m a provider, like I’ve not been freaking out about that ever since I did it."

A little lightbulb went off in Stan’s head. "That’s why you’ve been so—" He stopped himself and swallowed, trying to think about his word choice. "Angsty?"

Kenny huffed a weak laugh and ran a hand through his hair. "Yeah. Okay. Angsty." He sighed. "Look I know I’ve been a nightmare—"

"Cartman’s been a nightmare. You’ve been more like, I don’t know, that dream where you think you’re falling and you jolt awake."

Kenny blinked and Stan just shrugged. "O…kay. Point is, I know I’ve been taking it out on you guys I just… I didn’t wanna tell you cause I knew it was a bad idea even when I was doing it, and I really couldn’t sit through a Kyle lecture about it."

Stan nodded. He loved Kyle, God did he love Kyle, but he could get preachy, especially with Kenny. Stan thought it was because Kenny was the youngest and Kyle had some sort of big brother instinct he was fulfilling, or maybe it’s because Kenny clearly did have a tendency to, on occasion, make bad life decisions.

"I think he’s just confused about why you quit." Stan suggested after a moment. "I am too, I mean I know you didn’t like it much but were good at it."

"I hated it."

"But… But you need it, Kenny," he reasoned. He was trying to speak gently, but he wasn’t sure he was doing a very good job.

Kenny groaned and flopped back. "I know that! But my boss pissed me off and—" He cut himself off and put his hand over his face. He might’ve been crying.

Stan hesitantly sat down beside him. "Look I know he’s a dick but—"

Kenny shot up and glared at Stan. "He always had me working overtime and he wouldn’t let me take my breaks and then right before Tolkien’s party he tells me he’s fucking unapproved my time off for this trip! Which I’m pretty sure is illegal cause he did approve it all the way back in October!"

Stan blinked. "So you quit… just to come with us?"

Kenny sighed. "It does sound stupid when you put it like that."

"Because it is!"

"I know! I know, okay, I just…" He hung his head and his bottom lip wavered. That always happened when he was trying not to cry. "I… I didn’t want to miss out on anything else."

Stan’s eyes widened and Kenny got up to sit on the other bed. He definitely was crying now, Stan heard him sniffle and he wiped his nose on his wrist.

All Stan could think was that he was an idiot, for thinking Kenny was okay with all the things he’d missed. Sure they’d been cautious around him, but honestly Kenny was so good at deflecting things with a smile that Stan started to believe he was actually okay, or at the very least starting to be. And now everything seemed to be crashing down around him.

"I… Kenny ," he said sadly, because his words were failing him. He didn’t follow Kenny to the other bed, deciding to give him space, but a part of him wanted to just hug him and never let go. Stan wasn’t a very affectionate person, but Kenny was.

"I know it was dumb, okay, but I missed prom and senior ditch day and graduation," Kenny listed. He was staring at a spot on the carpet, tears and snot running down his face. "And I kind of thought if I missed this too then you’d… forget about me, I guess."

Stan shook his head furtively. "Kenny I’d never forget about you. None of us would."

"That’s easy to say now but you’re gonna meet so many people and everything about South Park is just gonna be like… a part of your past. Including me."

"I don’t want a future you’re not in," Stan admitted, not realising how honest he was being until the words were actually in his mouth. He felt a lump form in his throat. "I mean Kenny, you’re not forgettable. You’re amazing, you’re just… you’re you."

Stan finally got up and sat beside Kenny again. He didn’t look up but his breath stuttered slightly and he wiped his eyes. "I just really don’t wanna lose you," he whispered after a moment, then finally looked up at Stan, eyes shining like stars. He swallowed. "Any of you. Even Cartman, for some reason."

Stan hesitated and grabbed Kenny’s hand. "Look I can’t predict the future or anything, but I seriously can’t see that happening. We love you, we’re not gonna abandon you."

"No one ever intends to abandon anyone," Kenny said.

Stan hesitated. "I don’t know how to prove to you I won’t," he admitted.

Kenny smiled and shook his head. "You can’t. That’s why it sucks." He squeezed Stan’s hand and looked up at him. "I’m just being moody lately. And maybe a little bit…" He trailed off and spun his free hand by his temple in a crazy gesture.

Stan laughed weakly. "A little bit," he agreed. "But we’ve all had way too many moments of acting like an insane person. About time you did."

Kenny huffed a wet laugh and Stan hesitated just a second before pulling him into a hug. Kenny made a little oof noise at the tightness and suddenness, before wrapping his arms around Stan’s back and squeezing him tight.

"Thanks," he murmured.

"Of course."

Kenny pulled away and Stan reluctantly let him go. He swallowed and brushed some hair behind his ears, looking a little like he didn’t know what to do with himself now. "I think I’m just… I’m gonna go to bed, and I’ll apologise to Kyle in the morning."

Stan stood up and turned to look at his clothes, still soaking wet and hanging off the armchair. "Okay. I’ll go, just—"

"You could stay," Kenny said. Stan turned to find him looking back at him with wide eyes, then he pointed to the chair. "You know cause your clothes are wet and everything. Doesn’t make sense to put them back on."

Stan nodded. "Oh. Yeah okay, I guess it does."

"You can share my bed. We do it all the time."

They did. Whenever Kenny came over to his house to stay the night, they’d forgo the sleeping bag and just sleep beside each other.

This time, Kenny looked particularly desperate for some comfort and Stan couldn’t think of a reason to deny him that. He splayed himself over the bed and Kenny rewarded him with a bright smile.

"Sharing is caring, come on," he said, poking Stan in the ribs.

Stan obliged and moved over, allowing Kenny to pull the covers over both of them. Then he looked at Stan, almost shyly.

"Thanks," he said.

"No problem. Are you sure you’re okay?"

"How could I not be, with a nice guy like you in my bed?" Kenny asked.

Stan shoved him lightly and his stomach churned. "Shut up you flirt."

"Guilty," Kenny murmured. He leant into Stan and sighed. "I’ve gotta get it out my system, you know, I’m not gonna have anyone to flirt with soon. Except Cartman’s mom, I guess."

Stan huffed a soft laugh. "Seriously though. What are you gonna do, Ken? Where are you gonna work? You can’t live off the gas station money."

"I… honestly don’t know what the plan is yet. I guess I’ll figure it out, you know, I always do."

"Yeah, I guess you do. You’re scrappy."

Kenny laughed. " Scrappy . I like that."

Stan smiled and bit his bottom lip. "I mean I… I could maybe talk to Jimbo and try and get you something at the gun shop?"

"That’s a disaster waiting to happen, trust me. I think I’m just gonna try City Wok like I said yesterday, and then I’ll probably have to find something out of town." Kenny smiled. "Thanks though."

"I don’t really know what else to do."

Kenny put a hand on his cheek. "You’ve done enough. More than enough, I—"

Kenny cut himself off, eyes widening as he stared at his own hand. Stan wasn’t sure he was breathing anymore. Kenny’s hand was cool and small and Stan felt like he could feel every line of his fingerprint against his skin.

"I um… Yeah." Kenny swallowed and tucked his hand against his chest. "I just appreciate you and everything you’ve done for me. Not just tonight but like… my whole life. Like how you’d bring extra snacks in your lunch and try to act really subtle about it and you gave Karen all of Shelley’s old clothes and… Yeah. You’re just a good person, Stan."

"I don’t think I am," Stan confessed. He wasn’t sure why, but Kenny was like truth serum personified. "I think I’m selfish. And I’m a coward and I’m noncommittal and—"

"You’re too hard on yourself."

Stan swallowed. "That’s what Wendy always said."

Kenny smiled but it seemed sad for some reason. "And when has Wendy Testaburger ever been wrong?"

Stan agreed in theory, but couldn’t help but think she was wrong to give him so many chances. "Thanks Kenny."

"No problem. Just being honest."

Kenny was the first to fall asleep after that, and Stan wasn’t far behind until Kyle opened the door, snapping him back to alertness. Stan sat up, careful of Kenny who was very close to him. Kyle took one look at them and decided that either this was normal or he just didn’t want to address it, and headed to the bathroom to get ready for the night.

Stan explained everything as Kyle brushed his teeth, and when he was done he stood in the bathroom doorway with his arms crossed. "Why wouldn’t he tell us?"

Stan shrugged. "I think he knew it was a bad decision and he didn’t want us to nag him about him."

"That feels targeted."

"It’s not," Stan lied.

"Sure. I think Cartman actually feels bad," Kyle said. "Which is something."

"He should feel bad. You should feel bad," Stan replied, suddenly feeling defensive.

"What the fuck?"

"We should let him keep his secrets, Stan," he mimicked. "You’re worried about nothing, Stan."

Kyle glared at him. "I never said that exactly, okay, just that we could only work with what he was giving us which, at the time, wasn’t much."

"Whatever. I don’t wanna argue," Stan admitted. It wasn’t really Kyle’s fault anyway.

"You never do."

"What’s that supposed to mean?"

Kyle shook his head. "Nothing. Sorry. I’m just… I’m tired, and I’m stressed cause we’re delayed, and you’re right, Kenny seems hellbent on self destruction, but we can’t hold his hand this time."

Stan sighed. "Let’s just go to bed and figure it out in the morning."

Kyle nodded. "Yeah that’s a good plan." He pointed at Stan. "Are you… staying there?"

"I guess. He asked me to."

"Stan…"

"He’s got, like, major abandonment issues dude," Stan deflected. "We do it all the time at sleepovers. It’s not weird."

Sleepovers that, honestly, they’d been too old for for a while now. Kyle knew that. He didn’t say that. He just looked at Stan for a long moment before turning off the light. "Night Stan."

"Goodnight."

Stan waited until he heard Kyle get into his own bed before laying back down and facing Kenny. It was so dark he could barely make him out, and he took the opportunity to wrap Kenny’s hair around his fingers again. It felt soft, he must’ve washed it within the last couple of days, and Stan’s breath hitched, caught in his throat.

For whatever reason, this was the moment he realised that he was so incredibly and deeply far gone for Kenny McCormick, and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.

Notes:

I also just want to say that it’s likely the next chapter will be a little late. I have a few doctors appointments and health things going on and the chapter still needs a few finishing touches. We’ll see, but unfortunately it’ll be unlikely I’ll finish it fully in time :/ I’m very sorry but it’s sort of unavoidable lol

Chapter 5: Curbside Counselling

Notes:

As you may have noticed I made a few changes, namely made the rating T and also added another chapter. I genuinely hadn’t noticed I’d put 6 instead of 7 until now :|

Stan woke up to the sound of Kyle’s alarm, in an empty bed, and sweating profusely. He kicked his covers to the side and sat up to see Kyle reaching for his phone. He silenced the piercing alarm and groaned as he sat up.

"Is it just me or is it… really fucking hot?" Stan asked after a moment.

Kyle grimaced. "The rain stopped. It’s gonna be fucking gross and humid all day now."

Stan sighed heavily. "And why are we up so early?"

"We wasted a lot of time yesterday." Kyle climbed out of bed and stretched his arms over his head. "We’ve gotta make it up if we wanna get to Florida in time."

"Wonderful," Stan muttered and Kyle looked at him flatly.

"Look dude we can’t just wing everything. Someone has to have a plan, and as usual that person is me."

"Unnecessarily bitchy."

"Cartman is Cartman, you have yet to choose a major because you change your mind every six weeks, and Kenny quits his job at the drop of the hat," Kyle listed, dropping his arms to his side.

Stan got out of bed and rolled his shoulders. "Again. Bitchy. And lay off Kenny, alright? He feels really bad for lashing out, he didn’t mean it."

"Well he can tell me that himself."

"He will," Stan said confidently.

Kyle didn’t look convinced but he nodded. "Where is he anyway?"

Stan shrugged. "Must’ve slipped out during the night." For some reason that hurt.

"Alright well… I’m gonna take a shower. We need to leave in like half an hour, just so you know."

Stan nodded and waited for Kyle to head into the bathroom before changing. He was suddenly very grateful for all the shorts and thin t-shirts his mom had bought him in anticipation of his move, even though he’d resisted it at first. He always found there to be something embarrassing about having his limbs on display. Maybe it was because he was so pasty, or maybe because mosquitoes just seemed to love him, or maybe a bit of both as well as a healthy dose of insecurity. Whatever. It was honestly too hot to care.

He slipped his sneakers on and went outside, only to see Kenny already out there. He was smoking a cigarette, leant against the railing with his eyes closed, and wearing a pair of shorts that were actually criminal. They were much tinier than any he could’ve found in the men’s section, and had stars stitched onto the back pockets.

Stan shut the door quietly and cleared his throat to announce his presence. Kenny looked at him over his shoulder and smiled weakly. "Sorry to have loved and left you," he said, voice a little low from the nicotine.

Stan hoped his cheeks weren’t as red as they felt. "Not a problem. You okay?"

Kenny sighed and took a long drag of his cigarette. He exhaled and squinted. "I’ve been better. I feel like I just embarrassed myself last night."

Stan joined him, leaning against the railing overlooking the car park. "Maybe a little bit."

"The honesty is appreciated."

"Just talk to Kyle, like you said. It’ll work out."

Kenny smiled slightly and flicked his cigarette. He looked down, rather than at Stan. "When did you get so wise, hm? The Stan I grew up with would never attempt to mediate a conflict like this."

Stan shrugged. "I’m growing up I guess."

"Could be. Is he really mad?"

"He’s Kyle."

Kenny nodded and ran his free hand down his face. "It’s too early for this shit."

Stan tilted his head to the side. "Yeah why are you up? You left before the alarm."

Kenny jerked a shoulder into something like a shrug. "I think my sleep schedule’s been all thrown out of whack. Which definitely doesn’t help my mood."

Stan smiled weakly as he was suddenly overcome with the inexplicable urge to touch Kenny’s face, just to return the favour from the night before. His hand twitched and he shoved it into his pocket. He didn’t trust himself.

"I um… I really don’t think you’ve been as bad as you think," he said.

"Maybe not. Just had a lot of shit going on." Kenny sighed heavily and held his cigarette out to Stan. "Do you want the rest? There’s nothing wrong with it, just don’t wanna finish it honestly."

Stan hesitated. "Why?" he asked and Kenny just shrugged.

Stan only smoked menthols, which Kenny claimed were for fake smokers. He also, really, should be cutting back or quitting all together since he was on a sports scholarship now. Plus there was the asthma Kyle loved to remind him of whenever he went on one of his rants about how Stan doesn’t look after himself.

"Okay," Stan said despite all that, and took the cigarette. He put it between his lips and it felt like a kiss. He doubted that it was, that it counted by any measure, but just the thought of it sent a shiver all the way down his spine.

Kenny smiled at him. "You look like you didn’t sleep too well last night."

"That bad?"

Kenny waved his hand in a so so gesture. "Eh… Not your best, not your worst."

Stan huffed a laugh. "What’s my worst?"

"Do you remember the first hockey game of yours that we all came to?" Kenny asked and Stan groaned. He should’ve known.

It had been, honestly, carnage. He was fourteen years old and nervous, both about all his friends coming to watch and that if they won that game, they’d qualify for states. And everything had gone fine, until he looked over to the stands and saw his friends cheering. They’d made signs and were waving them about wildly, and it was a really nice moment. Or it was, until he’d looked at Wendy, and promptly skated right into the barrier. He’d broken his nose, knocked one of his back teeth out, and had a black eye for about a week.

Stan hadn’t thought about it in years, but now that he did he had a horrifying thought. Kenny had been stood right next to Wendy, cheering louder and smiling brighter than the rest.

He swallowed. "Yeah that was… that was bad."

Kenny laughed. "Are you still missing the tooth?"

Stan nodded and his tongue found the gap on the left side, concealed from view at the back of his mouth. That had been lucky; if he’d lost one of his front teeth, he probably never would’ve lived it down.

"It’s okay," Kenny said, clearly mistaking his silence for insecurity. "I know a lot of girls who’d be into that."

"Oh yeah? Like who?" Stan challenged.

Kenny shrugged awkwardly. "I don’t know. I just do. Kevin’s friends and stuff."

"How is Kevin?"

Kenny tensed a little. "Pissed at me. For quitting, you know, cause he was the one who got me the gig in the first place. So I’m probably gonna get it bad when I’m home."

Stan frowned. He doubted that. Everybody but Kenny, apparently, could clearly see that Kevin adored his little brother. Before Karen was Kenny’s baby, he was Kevin’s. He just had a funny way of showing it. Stan always used to be jealous, back when things were really bad with Shelley, but he’d never told Kenny that. He was so resistant to it, like he thought it would just be easier for his brother to hate him.

"Maybe he can get you the job back," Stan suggested, even though he knew it was probably a long shot.

"I don’t want it back," Kenny said stubbornly.

Stan chewed on his bottom lip. "You sure?"

"Yeah. Fuck them."

Stan thought Kenny was being a little l’assez faire about this whole thing, but he wasn’t sure he was in any position to judge. He’d never had a job, let alone had to support his family, he didn’t know what it was like.

"Are you okay though?" he asked.

Kenny looked at him and smiled crookedly. "You worry about me too much. I’m a big girl, I can handle myself."

Stan shrugged and snubbed the end of the cigarette they’d shared. "I do. But I worry about all the people I love."

Kenny’s expression faltered, turning into something softer and more open. He inched ever so slightly closer. "Really?"

"Don’t act so surprised," Stan said quietly, very conscious of the fact that Kenny was rather close now. He could probably start to count his freckles. "You know I love you."

"I can be forgetful."

"Then I’ll just have to remind you."

Kenny parted his lips to say something, when the door opened. The two of them sprung apart and Stan turned just in time to see Kyle throw Kenny’s bag at him. Kenny barely caught it, and the strap smacked him in the face.

"My bad," Kyle said, and he sounded like he hadn’t intended for that to happen, but also like he wasn’t mad that it did. "Ready to go?"

"I just need to get my shit from the room. And I guess we should get Cartman too," Stan said.

Kyle sighed. "If we must."

Stan nodded, then looked pointedly at Kenny. He rolled his eyes, shouldered his bag, and gestured vaguely at Kyle. "Can we, you know, talk?"

Kyle made vaguely surprised eye contact with Stan, who just shrugged and walked past. "Sure."

Stan left them to it and entered the room he would’ve shared with Cartman, had Kenny not requested otherwise. As expected, Cartman was still snoring in bed. Stan flicked the light switch on and off until he woke up with a loud groan.

"What is it you fucking cu—"

"We’re going soon," Stan announced. "So up and at em sunshine."

Cartman groaned again. "Jesus Christ, is the sun even up?"

"Yes. Barely," Stan admitted. "We’re off schedule cause of the rain."

"So fucking gay," Cartman muttered. "Can we at least stop for breakfast?"

"Don’t know. Probably not."

Cartman’s mouth fell open. "But I’ll starve!"

"You will not starve! You could live for like a year off of reserve fat alone. Just get up, get dressed, and we can go."

"Ugh!" Cartman threw the pillow at Stan, but missed. "I’m so sick of this stupid fucking road trip!"

Stan grit his teeth, starting to feel the same. "If you hurry up then we’ll be done quicker."

That seemed to actually motivate Cartman to get out of bed, so Stan left him to get changed and went to check on Kyle and Kenny. They were talking about something at a whisper, leant into each other in a conspiratorial manner. Kenny noticed Stan and straightened up, clearing his throat as he did. He patted Kyle on the shoulder and shot Stan a slightly cheesy wink paired with a finger gun.

"My turn to drive, right?" he asked.

"Uh… Sure. It can be." Stan shrugged.

Kenny grinned. "Cool. Meet you by the car."

Stan frowned and watched Kenny leave, then turned to Kyle. "What was that?"

Kyle looked over at him. "Huh?"

"Don’t play dumb, you’re not very good at it. You were talking about something and now he’s acting weird again. But like opposite weird. He’s too happy."

"Maybe he’s just in a good mood."

"No it’s fake happy. He only ever does that," Stan mimicked the finger gun gesture, "when he’s overselling it."

Kyle sighed. "You’re reading too much into it, I swear. He just apologised, like you said he would, that’s it."

"Kyle—"

"Just drop it," he snapped. "Okay?"

Stan set his jaw. "Okay."

Kyle held his gaze for a long moment before sighing heavily. "Where the fuck is fatass?" he muttered.

He pounded on the door and Stan decided he didn’t want to be anywhere near that powder keg. Instead he went to find Kenny. Maybe he’d tell him what was going on, though he wasn’t hopeful.

Stan hated being left out of secrets. It was one of those things that crept into the depths of his brain and stayed there, until it slowly drove him insane. It was a double edged sword though; usually everybody else was right and he actually didn’t want to know, and it just ended up with a headache.

Kenny was leaning on the hood of the car, smiling slightly at his phone. He didn’t notice Stan approach until he was right by him, at which point he startled  slightly. "Oh. Hi."

"Who are you texting?"

Kenny looked up. "Karen. She’s been giving me all the middle school dirt. You would not believe the shit Tricia Tucker gets up to."

Stan grinned. "If she’s anything like her brother, I probably would."

"She’s worse."

"Heaven help her poor counsellor."

Kenny snorted a laugh and put his phone in his pocket. He tilted his head to the side and observed Stan. "You okay? You’ve got this look like something’s bothering you."

Stan was momentarily stunned at just how easy it was for Kenny to read him like a picture book. But then again, it shouldn’t have been such a surprise. They’d known each other for so long it was inevitable, and Stan liked to think he could read Kenny pretty well too.

"You and Kyle," he said, leaning against the car. "What were you talking about earlier?"

Stan’s suspicions were confirmed; he did notice the way Kenny’s expression slipped for just a second, into something sour and almost panicked. "Nothing," he said, deceptively cool. "I just apologised for being an ass last night, he said we were all good. That’s it."

"Kenny come on, don’t bullshit me."

"Dude, seriously, you don’t wanna know."

"Know what? There is something, then?"

Kenny sighed. "Stan, do you trust me?"

"Of course," he said without even thinking.

"Then trust me now. Okay? You’re better off not knowing."

Stan worked a muscle in his jaw. "Fine," he said eventually, and very reluctantly. Ordinarily he’d push until the secret was spilled, but he just didn’t have it in him this time. He was tired, and hungry, and he couldn’t really argue with Kenny anymore anyway.

Kenny smiled weakly. He looked relieved. "Thank you."

Stan nodded and they lapsed into silence. It was slightly awkward, which was new. Normally sitting quietly with Kenny was easy, he had a presence that didn’t need to be expressed through words. Maybe Stan was just already feeling a little anxious and now his mind was running away with him, but it definitely felt different.

They were saved only a moment later by the arrival of Kyle and Cartman. They were bickering, about breakfast by the sounds of things. Kyle looked just about ready to pop a blood vessel.

"Guys!" Cartman grabbed Kenny as he approached. Kenny grimaced as he was sandwiched to his side. "Tell Kyle he’s being a dick."

"No I’m not!" Kyle protested. "I’m just saying we need to stick to the schedule so we get back on track."

"The fucking schedule, oh my God," Cartman muttered, rolled his eyes. "This is supposed to be a vacation!"

"If we don’t follow the plan, then we arrive in Florida late, and then we all miss our flights," Kyle explained. "That’s important!"

"Oh Jesus Christ, Kyle, you’re such a fucking fascist!"

Kyle tensed up and inhaled deeply. Stan looked from him to Kenny, who had frozen halfway through extricating himself from Cartman’s grip. His eyes had gone wide and he looked actually scared. Stan didn’t blame him.

Kyle going quiet during an argument was just about the scariest thing Stan had ever experienced.

"Everybody just get in the car," he said, voice dangerously even.

Stan didn’t waste any time disagreeing and opened the back door. Cartman, on the other hand, had to open his big fat mouth.

"There you go again! This is America, Kyle, it’s a democracy, we have rights!"

Kenny whacked his fist against Cartman’s arm, finally breaking free from his grip. "Learn when to quit," he hissed, shoving Cartman towards the door Stan had opened.

He wrestled Cartman inside, then got into the driver’s seat himself. Stan swallowed and turned to Kyle. "Are you—"

"Get in."

Stan swallowed and did as he was told.

 

~*~

 

Kyle’s bad mood hung over them like a cloud, as it often did.

Kenny tried playing some music, but Kyle turned it off after a few songs and it didn’t feel safe to talk so they just sat in silence. Cartman was pouting and staring out the window, and Kyle was doing the same. Stan spent his time alternating between watching the two of them. They both looked pissed off. Kenny was doing the same, splitting his attention between the road and Kyle beside him, then checking on Cartman in the rear view mirror.

To be honest, Stan wasn’t too sure why it was such a big deal. Cartman had said much much worse before, to all of them but especially to Kyle. Maybe they were just tired, or maybe they’d spent too much time together. Neither of those things seemed fixable though.

Stan looked up, only to see Kenny watching him in the mirror. He glanced pointedly at Kyle and Stan responded with a vague gesture. What was he meant to do? Kenny huffed and shook his head minutely, as if to say never mind .

The heat probably didn’t help. It was sticky and oppressive, especially in close quarters. It was getting to the point where Stan wanted to rip his own skin off, but even that might not provide any reprieve. The air con was on, but Stan’s car was pretty shitty so it didn’t really reach him and Cartman in the back. It wasn’t such a big deal back in South Park. They usually got about three weeks of blistering, sweltering heat, before they returned to their regularly scheduled programming. During those few weeks, all the teenagers in town would gather around at Stark’s Pond to drink stolen beers and play stupid games in the same pond they’d skate on in the winter.

For the first time since leaving, Stan was hit with a pang of homesickness that made his chest feel tight and his heart hurt.

"Turn the AC up," Cartman demanded.

Kenny fiddled with the dial then shrugged. "It’s up."

"Turn it up higher."

"It doesn’t go higher."

"It’s kind of just like that," Stan admitted. "She’s an old girl."

"Stop calling your car she it’s faggy," Cartman snapped.

"Only you would think being inside a girl is faggy," Stan shot back.

"Stop calling things faggy," Kyle hissed through gritted teeth. "It’s homophobic."

Kenny glanced at him and swallowed, his throat bobbing as he did. Cartman sneered, nose turning up in a particularly ugly way. "Oh save the preaching, we get it, you’re better than us."

Kyle blinked. "Literally what?"

"You’re soooo superior, fucking Saint Kyle—"

"I have no idea what you’re even talking about!"

Stan ran a hand down his face and glanced at Kenny who looked equally exasperated. They made eye contact in the mirror and he rolled his eyes so dramatically Stan cracked a small smile.

In a way, it felt good. It was back to basics, where Stan and Kenny were a sort of team, a shoulder to lean on and share commiserating looks with as Kyle and Cartman attempted to start world war three.

Back in South Park they’d just wander off together and kick rocks or smoke, but now they were quite literally trapped in a small moving box with their argument. Kenny seriously looked about three seconds away from crashing the whole car just to put a stop to it.

"Maybe we should get some food," Stan suggested, in an attempt to prevent that.

Kenny nodded and he looked grateful for an opportunity to escape. "Yeah. We should."

Kyle twisted around in his seat to face Stan. "Are you taking his side right now?"

Stan swallowed. "I’m just hungry dude."

"Ha! See Kyle! Everyone else is pissed off cause you’re a control freak, it’s not just me!" Cartman gloated.

Stan glared at him. "No that’s not what I’m saying."

"I’m not a control freak, I just want things to go smoothly!"

"Yeah well good job, Kyle, we all hate you now."

"No we don’t," Kenny sighed. "Fatass is hangry, clearly, so if we get something to eat maybe he’ll chill."

"We shouldn’t ruin our plans just cause of him," Kyle said.

Kenny glanced at him. "Yeah well I have to take a piss, and you’re the one who outlawed peeing in empty bottles before we even left, so…"

Kyle grit his teeth and folded his arms. "Fine! Whatever! Fucking whatever Kenny!"

Kenny made eye contact with Stan in the rear view mirror and grimaced slightly. Stan just shrugged.

They stopped at the next roadside McDonald’s and Kyle got out before Kenny had even finished parking. Stan took the opportunity to reach over and smack Cartman on his fat head.

"Why are you like this?" he snapped.

Cartman yelped and swatted at Stan. "Like what? Ask Kyle why he’s fucking PMS-ing!"

"He’s not PMS-ing dough boy, you’re just stressing him out!"

"Hey!" Kenny yelled. "I’m trying to park and we all know that’s not my fucking strong suit, so cut it out until I’m done!"

Stan went silent and folded his arms over his chest. Cartman scoffed. "You’re a good little lapdog, aren’t you Stan?" he hissed.

"The fuck does that mean?"

"Cut it out," Kenny warned.

He managed to park and they all got out. Kenny went to the bathroom and Stan was about to start tracking down Kyle but Cartman grabbed him by the arm.

"You’re not very subtle you know," he said.

Stan looked at him. "What?"

"What?" Cartman mocked. "Don’t play dumb, everyone can see you’ve got major love sickness for Kenny."

Stan felt his blood run cold. "You’re insane," he bluffed.

"Oh please. You’re, like, obsessed with him. That’s probably why Kyle’s acting psycho, he’s jealous."

"Shut the fuck up!" Stan snapped, wrenching his arm away. "You’ve just been pushing his buttons, the same way you’ve been ragging on Kenny. You’ll be lucky if you’ve got any friends by the time we’re done."

Cartman opened his mouth to say something but Stan stormed off before he could. He’d intended to go find Kyle, but now his stomach was churning in a familiar way and so he went to the bathroom instead. Kenny was in there, midway through writing Cartman’s number on the wall, and he smiled at Stan in a way that only made his problem worse.

"Hey, fancy seeing you—" Kenny stopped himself as Stan walked right past him and into a cubicle. He followed and hovered in the door. "You okay?"

Stan nodded and sat down, head between his knees; the recovery position. He focussed on his breathing. He’d been doing so well at keeping all his emotions safely inside of him, he could keep it up, he could—"

Kenny put a hand on his shoulder and he lurched towards the toilet just in time. The vomit burned his throat and tasted like failure.

"Oh dude," Kenny mumbled. He sounded numb with surprise. "What’s up with you?"

Stan panted and put his head in his hands. "I’m fine. I just… I feel really warm?"

He heard Kenny’s knees click as he crouched down behind him. He had bad joints, always had. "Maybe it’s all the greasy food and stuff, like Kyle said the other day. It’s probably the heat too."

Yes. That worked as an excuse. "Probably," Stan agreed, looking up. Kenny smiled at him and this time he swallowed it down. "Yeah."

"You probably don’t want a McMuffin then."

"Not really," Stan admitted. He’d lost his appetite honestly.

Kenny nodded, then his eyes went wide and he smacked a hand against his forehead. "Shit! Who’s watching the kids?"

Stan straightened up. "I was gonna go get Kyle but I got… distracted."

"It’s fine. You stay here." Kenny stood up and patted him on the head as he did. "I can handle it."

"Try not to punch Cartman again!" Stan called after him.

"I make no promises!"

Stan leant back against the cubicle as he heard the door swing shut and groaned to himself. He didn’t need this. He wanted to go back to when things were simple, when Kenny was just his admittedly attractive friend who didn’t inspire bouts of sickness.

But he was starting to think such a time didn’t exist, that him skating into that wall when he was fourteen had more to do with Kenny than his actual girlfriend at the time. That scared him.

"Stan?"

He perked up at the sound of Kyle’s voice and managed a small smile as he sat opposite him in the cubicle. "Hi."

Kyle leant forward to put a hand on his forehead. "Kenny said you weren’t feeling well and—" He paused. "Oh."

Stan inhaled deeply and nodded. "Yeah."

"Stan is this—"

"I don’t wanna talk about it," he said. Saying it out loud made it real.

Kyle bit his lip. "Okay. Are you alright?"

"I’ll be fine. Are you alright?"

"Yeah. I just wish Cartman was never born, that’s all."

"You let him get under your skin dude," Stan said. "Just ignore him."

"Easier said than done."

"Yeah," Stan agreed. "But you’ve gotta try."

Kyle frowned and pushed some curls out of his face. "You don’t think I’m a control freak do you?"

Stan looked at him carefully. "I think that you… can be? But you have to be, sometimes. I don’t know, it’s just who you are."

He could tell by Kyle’s face that he’d said something wrong. "I don’t want to be."

"I don’t know, Ky. I think maybe you’re just being sensitive to it today. He says that stuff all the time."

"Maybe. I’m just sick of it Stan."

"I know. Just a few more days and you don’t have to see him until Thanksgiving."

Kyle sighed heavily. "I feel like this was a bad idea."

"Don’t say that. We’ve had fun."

"Have we? First Kenny goes crazy, now Cartman’s being, well, himself, you can’t go a day without puking your guts out for reasons we aren’t naming. I think we just have to call it what it is. A failure."

Stan found himself with a lump in his throat. "I thought it would be a good idea."

"Not with this group." Kyle glanced at his phone. "We need to get a move on. Are you good?"

Stan nodded and flushed the toilet, then pulled himself to his feet. "Yeah. Are you?"

"Yeah. Let’s go."

Kenny and Cartman were waiting by the car, ignoring each other. Stan had almost forgotten that Kenny was pissed at Cartman too, and it was a stark reminder. His stomach churned all over again when Kenny looked up at him with a bright smile, then pulled him to the side.

"I got you a Sprite," he said, holding a paper cup out. "And I threatened Cartman with some blackmail I got on him a while ago so he’ll be quiet and you can just sleep it off, okay?"

"Ken—"

"No it’s okay. It’s like low level blackmail, just enough to shut him up," he dismissed. "You just get better, I’ve got this shit handled. Kyle too, so you don’t have to worry about them."

Stan smiled and took the cup. "You don’t have to worry about me."

"Hey it’s like you said this morning. We worry about the people we love."

Kenny patted him on the back before getting the car, leaving Stan feeling a little queasy again. He sipped his sprite and turned, only to see Cartman looking at him, knowing and smug.

"Shut up," Stan said preemptively.

"You’re a puppy dog."

"Shut up!"

"Just be careful," Cartman warned. "You don’t wanna get fleas."

Stan got in the car and shut the door with a slam. Kenny looked back in concern but Stan ignored him, not wanting to egg Cartman on even more.

 

~*~

 

Apparently a double sausage egg and cheese McMuffin, plus whatever dirt Kenny had on him, was capable of shutting Cartman up for a few hours at least. Stan was grateful for it. He was still feeling a little on edge, and now the quiet was welcome. It wasn’t silent, Kenny had insisted he needed the radio on to stop him zoning out while driving, but nobody was talking. Kyle was reading a book, Cartman was playing a game on his phone, and Stan had just been staring out the window listening to the music.

He’d hoped a little quiet would solve things, like they just needed a break from each other’s company, but of course nothing could ever be that easy.

"I’m bored," Cartman announced.

Stan looked up as Kyle inhaled deeply. "Okay… What are we meant to do about that?"

"We could play, like, a nice calm game," Kenny suggested, with the air of someone who was trying to defuse a bomb. "Like I spy or something."

"No I spy is lame. Let’s do never have I ever again."

"We played that yesterday and we already know everything about each other so it’s just targeted," Stan reminded.

"Fine. Let’s play the secrets game."

The secrets game was something Cartman made up when they were kids, and as such it was stupidly simple. You just had to share a secret, with the goal of one upping each other every time. It was dumb, but effective. Backing out was like confessing you had something to hide, it made you a coward, and that was just about the worst thing in the world when you’re a preteen.

"We’re not playing that," Stan said.

"Why not? Do you have something you don’t want us to know?" Cartman asked slyly.

"No it’s just a stupid game!"

"Sure. If you’re too pussy you just have to say so."

"Leave him alone he’s not well," Kenny snapped.

Cartman smirked. "Yeah I’ll bet."

Kyle twisted around in his seat to face Cartman. "Can you just shut up? Please?"

"Why would I do that?"

"So we don’t have to listen to your annoying voice?"

"You two are just arguing in circles," Kenny said. "So say something new or shut up!"

To Stan’s immense surprise, they did just that. Maybe it was because Kenny adopted a weird tone of voice, specifically the one Stan had only heard him use sparingly when Karen was misbehaving. Kyle had a reputation for being motherly, but Kenny had the voice down.

"Okay," Kenny sighed after a moment. "Are you gonna behave or do we have to stop again so you can run around and let some energy out?"

"I’m not a toddler," Cartman muttered.

Kenny shot him a look. "Then stop acting like one."

They went quiet again and Stan mouthed a thank you to Kenny. He smiled in response and blew a kiss in the mirror that made Stan feel motion sick.

 

~*~

 

And that went on for the rest of the day. At some point they stopped to give Kenny a break from driving and Stan took over, but other than that everything stayed the same. They’d go quiet for a while, then Cartman would say something and Kyle would always rise to the bait.

Cartman would try to get Kenny involved, but he just sort of seemed tired of it all by now and wouldn’t respond with anything but a sigh or, at most, telling Cartman to shut the fuck up and leaving it there. Stan was grateful for it, he couldn’t handle all three of them arguing.

"Stop kicking my seat," Kyle said and Stan inhaled deeply, preparing himself for round two. The sun was starting to set, and he was at his wits end after dealing with it all day now.

"I’m not," Cartman replied, and kicked the seat again. 

"Yes you are! You always do this, you fucking gaslight me and make me seem crazy!"

Cartman smiled innocently. "Whatever are you talking about—" kick, "—Kyle?"

Kyle groaned loudly and pounded his fist against his thigh. "God, I can’t wait until this trip is over and I never have to see you ever again!" he yelled.

Stan looked at him and felt a lump form in his throat. Logically he knew Kyle was talking to Cartman, but it sounded like he was talking to everyone.

In a snap decision, Stan tugged hard on the wheel and pulled off the road, ignoring the protests from everyone else. He killed the engine and got out, slamming the door behind him. He stalked towards the tree line all whilst fighting back the sudden urge to cry.

"Stan!" A bony hand wrapped around his wrist and he turned to see Kenny had been the first to follow him. His eyes were wide and shining with concern. "Are you okay?"

"Is he okay?" Cartman yelled, and Stan realised he and Kyle weren’t far behind. "He almost killed us!"

"You are so damn selfish, fatass!" Kyle retorted.

Stan gestured wildly at the two of them. "You are driving me insane! Both of you!"

Kyle blinked. "Me? But he’s—"

"No you—"

"Enough!" Kenny yelled. "Listen to him!" They fell silent and Kenny gestured to Stan.

"Um… Thanks." Stan inhaled deeply and brushed at the wetness in his eyes. "Look we just— We’re best friends, all of us, we can’t keep fighting like this or we’re gonna lose everything. So we need to fix this, right now."

Kyle sighed in exasperation. "It’s not that simple."

"Well we’re gonna make this simple." He put his hands on his hips. "Somehow. Okay, so, I kind of think we need to talk about… feelings."

He winced as he said it, and was met with groans. "Stan, come on—"

"No, we’re doing this," he said, deciding to take a stand. He wasn’t often very good at it, but this was his friendships on the line. "Kyle you go first. Please."

"This is stupid."

" Please ."

Kyle worked a muscle in his jaw, then sighed. "I feel like… Jesus Christ. I feel like you guys think I’m a fun sponge or something, but I’m just trying to give things some structure so we don’t all fall apart."

Stan nodded. "Okay. Thank you Kyle. Cartman, do you have anything to say to that?"

Cartman rolled his eyes. "I don’t know. I guess sometimes I don’t want structure."

"Okay. Kenny, what about you?"

"I think that you maybe need to chill a little bit for your own good, sometimes, but I understand that you’re trying to look after us and it’s not an easy job," Kenny said.

Stan smiled at him. "Yes. I agree. Kyle do you feel heard?"

Kyle’s eye twitched. "Who even are you?"

"Do you or do you not feel heard?"

"Whatever. Okay. I feel heard."

Stan nodded. "Good, I’m glad. Okay Cartman, your go."

Cartman folded his arms over his chest and pouted. "I don’t wanna."

Kyle threw his hands out in frustration. "See? This isn’t gonna work! He’s just an asshole!"

"You know what, yes, I am! I’m a dick, Kyle, it’s just who I am, and I know nobody else will ever have the same patience with me that you guys do so I’m just ripping the bandaid off before you realise just how much I suck and ditch me anyway!" Cartman yelled.

"I knew it," Kenny whispered, just loud enough for Stan to hear.

Kyle’s eyes widened in surprise. "What the fuck?"

"God are you happy?" Cartman asked.

"Kind of," Stan admitted. "I think you need to apologise to Kyle."

"Do I?"

"Yes."

"Ugh! Fine, I’m sorry for being an ass, Kyle," Cartman mumbled.

Kyle glanced at Stan, then Kenny, then repeated a couple times before his gaze landed back on Cartman’s. He looked like he was about to step into a trap, or like he was expecting a camera crew to jump out and announce he was on one of those prank shows.

"Apology accepted," he said eventually, eyes still narrowed with suspicion.

Stan cleared his throat. "And you need to apologise to Kenny too."

Kenny looked up. "Oh. Oh no that’s—"

"No, he does, he’s been a dick to you too," Stan insisted. "Go on."

Cartman inhaled. "I’m sorry, Kenny, I don’t think you’re a faggot. Well I do actually, cause you are, but—" Kenny sighed and Cartman actually winced. "Ugh. Okay, look, you are one. But I’m trying to say I don’t… actually care. Cause you’re my best friend, and if you wanna wear girl clothes then I guess it’s good you know what you want. A lot of people don’t, you know?"

Kenny blinked. "Huh?"

"Don’t make me repeat it."

Kenny sighed heavily. "I’m not even mad at you anymore. Come here fat boy."

Cartman seemed reluctant so Kenny basically tackled him into a hug, and Stan couldn’t help but smile. Personally he wasn’t sure he’d be so forgiving, but Kenny was better than him in that way. In most ways, actually.

Kyle wrapped Stan in a hug. "That was really really good."

"I think I was just possessed," he admitted, and Kyle just laughed and squeezed him tighter.

Stan exhaled fully for what felt like the first time in forever. Of course that wasn’t actually the case, but it brought such an immense sense of relief that it might as well have been. In fact, he felt weirdly proud. Kenny was smiling at him like he felt the same. 

"Okay," Stan said. "Okay that’s— So we’re all good now, right?" Everybody nodded. "Then let’s go, come on. We’ve got that schedule."

"Stan," Kyle said softly, shaking his head. "I think we’ve just gotta let it go. We’re not gonna be able to make up the time."

Stan chewed on his bottom lip. "Yes. We can. We’ll drive all night, taking shifts while the others sleep. And then we should be back on track."

"Yeah that’ll work," Kenny agreed. "We can do that!"

"Are you sure?" Kyle asked.

Stan nodded. "I’ll even take the first shift."

Kenny shook Cartman’s arm. "Come on, fat boy, think about that cowboy bar you want time to go to!"

Cartman seemed to relent. "Fuck it. Fine, I’m in."

Kyle beamed. "Okay! Yeah, let’s go! I mean we’ll have to stop for gas first, but yes!"

They stopped at the nearest gas station and Kyle headed to the pump, whilst Cartman went in to buy lots and lots of snacks and energy drinks. Stan noticed Kenny sat down on the tarmac a few feet away, and approached him.

"Hey. Thanks for backing me up just now."

Kenny looked up with a smile and patted the space beside him invitingly. "No problem. We’re a team, you and I," he said as Stan sat down.

"I was thinking that earlier," Stan confessed. "Why are we sitting on the floor?"

Kenny’s smile widened. "It’s been a crazy long day. I just needed a moment."

It had been a long day. Stan could hardly believe just that morning he’d shared a cigarette with Kenny; it already felt like half a lifetime ago. This trip was slipping away in a blur.

"Are you ever gonna tell me what you and Kyle were talking about earlier?" Stan asked. He’d almost forgotten, what with everything, but it really was bothering him now he’d been reminded.

Kenny hummed. "We were talking about you. How much we hate you. In fact I suggested killing you and burying you in the woods, but he talked me out of it."

Stan frowned. "Not funny."

"Not even a little bit?"

"No."

Kenny smiled sheepishly. "Look, dude, it’s nothing bad. I swear. It’s just… personal, I needed some advice and he’s good at that sort of thing."

"Are you okay?" Stan asked.

Kenny nodded. "Yeah. No. I don’t know." He sighed and rubbed at his eyes. "Okay, so basically I think I need a therapist or something?"

Stan blinked. "Oh."

"I’ve not been, like, doing great. Obviously. And I keep having these nightmares and I sort of feel like I’m going crazy some days."

"Oh," Stan repeated. "I didn’t… know that."

"It’s not the kind of thing I tell people," Kenny said with a rueful smile. "But the other night, after the pool, I had one of those dreams and woke up so I tried to get outside but you know Kyle’s a light sleeper and we ended up talking which was super gross, and he said it’s concerning," he rambled.

"It kind of is," Stan agreed.

"Kyle says we all could probably benefit from therapy. Which I think is a nice way of saying I’m fucked in the head."

Stan swallowed. "You’re not."

"I don’t really wanna talk about it," Kenny deflected. "I just didn’t want you to, like, actually think we were hiding something from you."

He laid back, draping himself over Stan’s lap and closing his eyes. He sighed heavily, his chest rising with the motion, and Stan found his own breathing becoming intentional.

"You’re a good pillow," Kenny said, shifting slightly. "Very comfortable."

Stan winced. "And you’re bony."

"Sorry."

Stan shook his head. "It’s fine. You elbowed me a couple of times last night, I’m building up a tolerance."

Kenny huffed a laugh and Stan smiled, but guilt curled up in the pit of his stomach.

"Hey I’m sorry I made you feel like you had to tell me about your shit," he said quietly.

Kenny opened his eyes. "Huh? Oh. It’s fine dude. You would’ve found out anyway."

"I just… You sleep over a lot, and on this trip we’ve slept together— Literally not like— Ugh. I’m trying to say I never noticed."

Kenny looked amused at the blunder, then frowned slightly. "I guess I just… sleep better when you’re around."

Stan couldn’t quite keep a smile off of his face. "Really?"

"Yeah. You kind of have a comforting sort of vibe, I don’t know. Like today! You got them to sort out their shit, that’s impressive!"

"It’s not that impressive," Stan said and he hoped his cheeks weren’t as red as they felt.

"It was. Things will be better now," Kenny said confidently. "It’s all out in the open, the air is cleared."

Stan smiled. "I hope so."

Kenny tipped his head back just slightly to make eye contact. "Maybe this is your calling, you could be the next Mr Mackey," he suggested.

Stan screwed his nose up. Today had already had him close to breaking out in hives, he couldn’t imagine dealing with that shit everyday, especially when he didn’t have a personal stake in it. "Or maybe not."

Kenny smiled. "Seriously though. You’re really growing up. I’m quite proud, to be honest."

Stan felt acid tickle the back of his throat but he choked it down with a smile. "I’m proud of you too. Just so you know."

Stan went quiet, unable to take his eyes off of Kenny. He looked so soft, just splayed across his lap in nothing but his sinfully small pair of shorts and a huge, ratty band tee he’d stolen from his brother. It felt like an honour, to get to have Kenny in a small way like this.

It quickly turned sour in his mind when he was reminded that someone would get to have him for the rest of his life, and that it would not be Stan. He would never be so lucky.

For now though, he was grateful he got to sit there with Kenny’s head pillowed on his thighs, his hair fanned out like a cascading halo.

"I’m gonna miss this," Kenny said after a beat. "The quiet moments."

Stan absently brushed Kenny’s bangs out of his eyes and tucked them behind his ears. He didn’t realise he’d done it until the action was already complete, and it almost scared him how naturally and instinctually it came to him. Kenny’s eyes widened and he parted his lips like he wanted to say something but he never did.

"Me too," Stan said after a moment. "I’ll miss you."

Kenny sat up and faced Stan. "You’ll have to visit me. Thanksgiving and Christmas and spring break, and you’ve gotta come back for the summer."

Stan laughed softly. "Yeah of course. You’ll have to beat me away with a stick. In fact you’ll probably get sick of me."

"I could never."

"Really?"

"Cross my heart," Kenny mimed doing just that, "and hope to die. In fact…"

He held his pinky finger out to Stan, who stared at it and laughed. "Aren’t we too old for this?"

"Never. But if we’re not making a pact about this cause you don’t take it seriously then…"

Stan hooked his finger around Kenny’s. "Alright, a pact then. I come back all the time, and you don’t get sick of me."

"You can’t get sick of me either," Kenny added.

Stan laughed again, just because the very concept was so foreign and strange it was funny. "Course not."

Kenny grinned and kissed their fingers. "And now it’s sealed. So sorry, but if you break it you’re gonna die I guess."

Stan smiled. His hand burned where Kenny’s lips had brushed against it. "Works for me."

Kenny held his gaze for a moment and opened his mouth ever so slightly, before Kyle called out. "Guys! We’re ready to go!"

Kenny hopped up to his feet, then helped Stan to do the same without him asking. He could’ve done it himself, of course, but he sort of liked that Kenny was taking care of him.

"Alright time to hit the road," he said.

Stan smiled and let Kenny lead him all the way to the car. He only noticed when he’d sat behind the wheel, that Kenny hadn’t let go of his hand until he’d physically had to.

Notes:

Apologies if this was rougher than usual, I didn’t have as much time to review it this week. And once again, I can’t guarantee next chapter will be on time, but this one has proven to me that I am capable of writing a lot more than I thought lmao, so we’ll see. As always, thanks for reading :)

Chapter 6: Cowboys Are Sexy

Notes:

These last two chapters are my personal favourites and this one is especially silly…

The plan to drive all night had seemed like a good idea when Stan suggested it, but he as he was coming up on the final stretch he was regretting it more and more. They’d all done their fair share of driving, even Cartman, but his eyes were starting to droop in a way that probably wasn’t safe.

"Not far now."

Stan glanced over at Kenny in the passenger seat. His voice was probably the only thing keeping him awake. "We’ve been driving forever."

Kenny looked over and smiled, his chin resting in his palm. "Whose idea was that?"

"It was a good idea."

"Yeah no one’s arguing with that."

Stan hummed. "Not that I don’t appreciate it or nothing, but what are you doing up? You could be sleeping."

"Can’t sleep," Kenny admitted. "Got a lot on my mind."

"Like what?"

Kenny shifted in his seat so one foot was propped up against the dash. "I’ve been wondering what Karen’s up to. She’s staying with Tricia until we get back. I get back. Whatever."

Stan winced at the slip up. "What, are you worried she’s gonna get in trouble?"

"Nah, that’s inevitable. Just like…" Kenny changed his position again. Now his right foot was against the dash, and the left was crossed over his knee. It did not look comfortable. "Do you think I smother her?"

Stan swallowed. Kenny could be a little over protective at times, especially when compared to what they got up to as kids, but he wasn’t sure he was in a position to pass judgement. "Do you think you do?" he asked, because that felt safer than giving an answer.

"I don’t know. I think she thinks I do. Like I can feel her pulling away, you know?"

"She’s thirteen."

"I was not like that at thirteen."

Stan raised an eyebrow. "Kenny you were the moodiest teenager I know."

"Puberty wasn’t kind to me," he muttered.

That much was true. He’d been a late bloomer, but once it hit, it hit him like a damn truck. And seemingly overnight too; one day Stan said goodbye to his sweet little friend Kenny, and the next day he was greeted by someone six inches taller with a squeaky voice, patchy facial hair, and acne.

Stan had been pretty lucky in comparison, but Kenny had definitely come out the other side better to make up for it.

"Point is, she’s just a teenager right? They push their parents away all the time," Stan reasoned. "God knows I did."

"I am not her dad," Kenny snapped, like that was a sore point for him. He folded his arms over his chest. "And even if I was, I’m not like your dad."

"He’s not that bad, sometimes," Stan said weakly.

Kenny gave him a skeptical look. "Stan. He sucks. He’s a narcissist and an alcoholic and toxically masculine and—"

"Okay, okay!" Stan shot him a glare. "You’ve not got a functional fucking family either."

Kenny shrugged and looked back out the window. Stan sighed heavily. He did not like talking about his dad. He had no problem admitting, or even exaggerating, Randy’s flaws, but he always felt a need to defend him when anyone else did. Must’ve been some kind of twisted loyalty he earned back when Stan was eight and he actually remembered how to act like a father.

"You and Karen will be fine," he said eventually and Kenny looked back over.

"You sound very certain."

"Yeah well… You’re a good brother and she’s a smart girl. She’ll figure it out."

Kenny smiled softly. The sun was just rising and it haloed him delicately in a way that made Stan feel motion sick.

"How’re you doing, by the way?" Kenny asked suddenly. "I know you were feeling a bit," he made a wavy gesture with his hand, "yesterday."

Stan felt his face heat up and he put a hand on his stomach. "I’m fine. Seriously."

Kenny nodded. "You’d tell me if you weren’t right? Like if something was bothering you?"

"Yeah," Stan lied. "Of course."

"Okay just cause…" Kenny shook his head. "Never mind."

"No, come on, what is it?"

"Seriously Stan—"

"Ken, please, just spit it out," Stan groaned.

Kenny looked at him and his mouth twitched. "Fine. You’ve been acting kinda weird lately, and I just was wondering what that’s all about. Since, you know, I spilled all my psychological problems to you."

Stan glanced at him. "You don’t have psychological problems."

"Yeah and Cartman’s really just big boned, let’s not change the topic. Are you just bugging about going to college or what?" Kenny asked.

"I don’t handle change very well," Stan admitted. "And it’s making me feel kind of crazy."

Was it lying to let Kenny believe the change was about his upcoming move, rather than in his feelings? Whatever. Stan had gone to enough Sunday school lessons to know with a couple Hail Mary’s he’d be fine.

"I don’t really know how to help with that," Kenny admitted. "Sorry."

"It’s fine. I— Hey, I think we’re here."

He pulled off the road as the GPS told him to and a big motel sign came into view. Kenny straightened up and grinned. "Fuck yeah! We did it!"

He held his palm out and Stan slapped his against it, a feeling of overwhelming relief washing over him. He glanced at the clock on the dashboard. "And we’ve even got a couple hours to spare."

"All in all, that’s been a pretty successful night I’d say."

"Yeah. I need to crash though."

"I bet. We can have a nap for a couple hours here and then you can have another in the car," Kenny suggested.

Stan nodded. He could feel sleep tugging on his eyelids, making them heavy, and did exactly what Kenny said. He was out as soon as his head hit the cheap motel pillow.

 

~*~

 

"Psst. Hey Stan."

Stan grimaced and pushed further into his pillow. He was pretty sure he’d never been so comfortable in his entire life, and he didn’t want anything to disturb it.

"Staniel… Come on." A cold hand shook him by the shoulder.

Stan swatted blindly. "Fuck off."

"Awe that’s no way to talk to your best friend."

Suddenly Stan recognised the voice. Kenny. He forced his eyes open to see Kenny looking at him with a grin. Whilst Stan’s vision was still blurred with sleep, he looked like he was glowing.

"There he is," Kenny said softly. "Come on sunshine, we’ve gotta go."

He grabbed Stan’s hands and pulled him up with a grunt of effort. Stan reluctantly allowed him to. "I don’t wanna."

Kenny sighed and wrapped his arms around Stan’s waist, then pulled. "You’re not making this easy, are you? Do you realise that if you put us behind schedule again Kyle will actually properly murder you?"

Stan closed his eyes, even though Kenny was now dragging him by the armpits across the scratchy carpet. "Let him."

Kenny sighed again and dropped Stan. "Okay fine. Hard way."

He grabbed Stan and suddenly he’d been thrown over Kenny’s shoulders in a makeshift piggy back. Stan’s eyes flew open in surprise and he clutched onto Kenny desperately. "Jesus Christ!"

"Stronger than I look," Kenny reminded. Then he wavered slightly. "But you’re heavier than I thought so hang on tight."

"Thanks," Stan muttered. Still he wrapped his legs tight around Kenny’s waist and closed his eyes again.

They made it to the car without incident and Kenny even strapped Stan into the backseat before going to sit passenger side next to Cartman. Stan’s eyes fluttered open and he saw Kyle leaning over to peer at him like he was a circus freak or something.

"What?" he mumbled.

"You’re like a big toddler," he commented and Cartman huffed a laugh.

Stan shoved Kyle weakly and went back to sleep.

 

~*~

 

Stan slept all the way through breakfast, and only woke up around midday when they stopped for lunch. They got Subway, and Cartman made AIDs jokes until Kyle threatened to report him to the police for a hate crime, then got back in the car.

The problem was, now Stan had all this pent up energy and he was bored .

For a while he leant over to share Kyle’s book, but it was one of those classics that was written before people had indoor toilets so he quickly lost interest. He actually sort of liked English at school, at least when they let them write the creative stuff, but reading had always been difficult for him. His mom said he might be dyslexic, or that maybe it was the Asperger’s he got diagnosed with when he was ten. His dad just said he wasn’t trying hard enough. Stan personally thought it didn’t really matter.

Kyle on the other hand, had developed a weird fondness for old books. He claimed it had nothing to do with the time his mom made him watch Pride and Prejudice, but Stan suspected otherwise.

Eventually he just ended up falling asleep again, purely out of a lack of anything better to do, with his face pressed against the window. Stan didn’t realise he’d dozed off, until he jolted awake as the car lurched.

"Watch it," Kenny murmured. "You don’t wanna wake them up."

"Yeah whatever," Cartman responded and Stan could practically see him rolling his eyes. There was a stretch of silence before he continued. "Can I ask you a question?"

"If you want," Kenny responded.

Cartman was quiet in an uncharacteristic manner, like he was actually thinking about his words. "Does it really bother you when I call you a fag?"

Stan cracked an eye open and watched as Kenny tore his gaze away from the window to look at Cartman. "No," he said eventually. "Not really. But most people… it would."

"Like Bu— Marjorine."

"Yeah. She doesn’t like it."

"Well she’s always been sensitive."

Kenny sighed. "Yeah but that’s not the point. It’s not about being sensitive. It’s about… being scared. I guess. I don’t know, you should talk to Wendy if you want an educated answer about this."

Cartman glanced at Kenny. "I’m more looking for your opinion specifically."

"I’m honoured."

"Shut up poor boy. I guess I’m saying I don’t get it," Cartman admitted. "Like, the way I see it, if you’re a fag then just own it. Be what you are."

Stan was about to yawn and alert them of his presence when Kenny spoke again. "I just think that’s actually hypocritical of you to say."

Stan went very stiff as the atmosphere changed and suddenly it all felt very private, like he shouldn’t be listening in.

"I told you not to talk about that," Cartman hissed.

"Relax, they’ve both been conked out for like an hour now," Kenny dismissed. "And I haven’t told anyone by the way. I’m a decent person."

"What you and I do is different."

"Sure but I don’t think you can be calling anything faggy when you cross dress. Just cause you’re doing it on the internet for, like, attention I guess, doesn’t mean it doesn’t happen."

Stan tried very hard not to react and stay as still as possible, despite hearing possibly life changing news. Sure Cartman liked to dress up as a kid, but they’d sort of thought that was a weird phase. They all did that kind of thing when they were young, not to mention the whole metrosexual fad they all got sucked into.

"Drag is an art form, not faggotry," Cartman insisted.

Kenny made an unconvinced sound. "It’s kinda both. Eric it’s fine, I think everyone in this car is a little bent."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah. Don’t tell them I said that though, they need to figure it out on their own."

Cartman snorted. "Jesus Christ Kenny, since when are you some sort of queer Yoda?"

"It’s called a gaydar, or just having fucking eyes and ears."

Cartman hummed. "You know speaking of gay and Stan—"

Stan shot upright, faking a yawn and fluttering his eyelids in a way he hoped was convincing. Kenny glanced at him in the mirror and looked almost relieved for some reason, and Cartman thankfully shut his mouth. Kyle was, as Kenny said, asleep with his head tipped back and his mouth open slightly. He looked a bit like a corpse.

"Hey," Kenny said softly, turning in his seat to look at him. "Nice nap?"

Stan rubbed his eyes. "It was alright."

Kenny smiled warmly. "Your hair’s doing something interesting."

He reached back and smoothed out the hair by Stan’s ears, leaving him feeling very warm and a little motion sick. Jesus. Kenny had read him like a fucking book, he seriously was way gayer than he thought if he was getting flustered over something as small as that. "Thanks," he murmured.

Kenny shrugged and sat back in his seat. "You know I’m kinda excited about this cowboy bar thing."

"Thank you!" Cartman said gratefully. "This is why you’re my favourite."

They really must’ve made up for good, because Kenny didn’t have anything snarky to say to that. "Yeah. Cowboys are sexy."

"Ugh don’t make cowboys gay."

"I think they have always been gay," Stan said. "Brokeback Mountain."

Kenny pointed at him. "Yeah exactly. And the little one in Night At The Museum."

Stan nodded. "It’s a gay genre dude."

"Just like vampires and werewolves and obviously superheroes," Kenny listed. "Oh of course pirates."

"War films," Stan added and Kenny nodded. "Sports comedies."

Cartman huffed. "So everything cool?"

"Pretty much. Also war films aren’t cool," Kenny said.

"How dare you? They’re stories about brotherhood in the face of conflict and—"

"You have to see how that sounds super, super gay."

"Sick Kenny," Cartman mumbled, shaking his head sadly. "Sick and twisted. This is why there’s a male suicide epidemic."

Stan smirked. "You already debated Wendy about that in front of the whole class. And lost, by the way."

Cartman scoffed. "She just started talking about patriarchy, that’s what all females do when they’re losing an argument."

" Jesus Christ, females. And you wonder why you’re a virgin," Kenny said.

"We all are," Cartman dismissed. Then he frowned. "And I’m not! I told you, there was that girl from when I went to Nebraska!"

"Oh yeah, the girl you met on your family vacation," Stan said.

"We made sweet love all night!"

Kenny laughed genuinely. "There’s no girl who’d wanna come near you even if she was wearing a biohazard suit."

"No girl would wanna come near your greasy ass either!"

"Sorry which one of us got sucked off by an older girl? Cause it wasn’t you."

Stan leant back in his seat as their argument became more and more convoluted. There was a playfulness to it this time, that provided a lot of comfort. It reminded Stan of when he’d gone to pick out Sparky from the animal shelter, and the dogs had been nipping at each other’s tails. Stan had thought they were fighting at first, but the volunteer who’d showed them around explained that’s how they played. Kenny and Cartman were a lot like those puppies.

It was better than them being at each other’s throats, and entertaining enough to keep Stan occupied until they arrived at their motel.

 

~*~

 

"I’ve got your outfits!" Cartman announced, barging into Stan and Kyle’s motel room like a small hurricane. Kenny was tottering behind him, laden high his bags and shoeboxes.

"I’ve got them," Kenny corrected.

"I told you Kenny, I can’t carry anything because of my rotator cuff injury,” Cartman said.

Kenny rolled his eyes. "Oh yeah your not at all made up rotator cuff injury." He dumped his load on the floor, then launched himself onto the bed beside Stan. He winked at him and Stan winked back reflexively, then immediately cringed. He knew he couldn’t make it look as effortless as Kenny did.

"Since no one else seems to be questioning this I will. What outfits?" Kyle asked.

"I’m glad you asked, Kyle. We can’t go to a cowboy bar if we don’t look the part so I, in all my generosity, have bought you some clothes," Cartman explained. "Now let’s see." He picked up the shoe boxes and examined them carefully, then threw one at Kyle. "Those are yours, size twelve, that’s Stan, those are my ones, and Kenny’s a size nine."

Stan opened the box that had been chucked at him cautiously to find a pair of black cowboy boots inside. "Jesus Christ."

"Yes you must be feeling very blessed right now," Cartman commented.

Kyle looked up from his own boots. "Blessed is not the word I’d use."

"The rest of your ensemble is in these bags," Cartman informed, placing them on the arm chair. "Kenny, let’s go. We need to get ready."

Kenny took his shoe box and slid off the bed. "Yes ma’am."

Stan watched them go, and the second the door clicked shut he and Kyle both lunged for the bags. Kyle got there first and slapped a hand over his mouth after he looked inside.

"Oh my God," he whispered.

"What?" Stan asked. He looked in the bag and swallowed. "Oh my God."

"Maybe— Maybe they’re not that bad," Kyle suggested even if his voice was practically shaking.

"Kyle I can see fringe."

"You can make fringe work."

Stan looked at him. "Can I? Can anyone?"

"Let’s just try them on."

They did, and once it was on and Stan had spent long enough staring at it in the mirror… he kind of liked it. Yes his shirt had fringe on it, but the hat was fun and the jeans were actually flattering. He tilted his head to the side and narrowed his eyes. Yeah. This worked. He actually looked good.

"It’s awful," Kyle announced.

Oh. Stan looked over. "I kind of like it."

"Yeah it’s alright for you, I look like a string bean!"

"You—" Stan snorted. "Fucking hell, Ky, a string bean?"

Kyle pouted. "Stop laughing! Look at me!" He turned to face Stan instead of the mirror and spread his arms. "I’m, like, freakishly tall!"

Kyle was already an impressive six foot and one inch, but the boots added on another two. Stan wasn’t mad about it; he was 5’11 and a little salty if he was being honest. Although he was the second tallest out of the group, but only by an inch that Cartman frequently disputed.

"You look fine. You look like a cowboy," Stan said.

"Do I look fine or like a cowboy it can’t be both?" Kyle asked.

Stan sighed. "Let’s just go, okay? You’ll be fine once you have a couple of drinks."

"Solid life advice."

Stan rolled his eyes. "Isn’t it just? Come on."

He should’ve known things wouldn’t be so easy, but he’d been lulled into a false sense of security. As such, he wasn’t expecting it when Kenny opened the door and mimed shooting them both, all while looking drop dead gorgeous.

He made an insanely hot cowboy. His jeans fit him perfectly and hung so low on his hips it made Stan feel dizzy. His shirt was unbuttoned near the top, showing off a sliver of collarbone, and he’d tied his hair back into a bun at the nape of his neck, whilst his hat sat jauntily on top of his head. It wasn’t fair.

"You look great," Kenny said, leaning against the doorframe and jutting a hip out. Stan might’ve been imagining it, but he swore Kenny looked at him for longer than Kyle. It made him feel self conscious. Of course he didn’t look as good as he thought he had, he probably looked stupid.

"Where’s fatass?" Kyle asked.

Kenny stepped aside and gestured for them to come in. "He already called an Uber, he’s just finishing up. Come in, come in, I’m pregaming."

He shut the door behind them and flashed Stan a grin before hoisting a bag in the air. Inside was a bottle of vodka. "Where’d you get that?" Kyle asked.

"I had to test my ID out of state, of course," Kenny said. "Speaking of, you’ve all got yours right?"

Stan nodded. His fake driver’s license was sat safely in his wallet. Kenny had got them, apparently from one of Kevin’s dodgy friends. He also claimed she’d made out with him, but Stan really hoped that wasn’t true considering they were fifteen at the time. Of course they had newer ones now, from the same friend of a friend.

Kenny unscrewed the bottle and took a swig, then passed it to Kyle. "No thanks," Kyle said.

"Come on Ky, it’s gonna be twelve bucks a shot at the bar, you’ve gotta get a buzz going for cheap first," Kenny coaxed.

Kyle sighed. "Fine."

He took a meagre sip and winced, then passed the bottle to Stan. He took a full mouthful and swallowed it, then took another. The burn was familiar and welcome, and Kenny smiled at him in what might’ve been awe as he passed it back.

Kenny maintained eye contact as he took another sip. It reminded Stan of the cigarette they shared, and he ached deep in the pit of his belly.

Kyle glanced over, eyes clearly concerned, but Stan shook his head. Later.

"Yee-fucking-haw partners!"

Stan was thankfully saved by Cartman emerging from the bathroom with a slightly terrifying grin on his face. Honestly, Stan wasn’t sure he remembered Cartman looking that happy since he somehow convinced Kenny to give him his PSP when they were kids.

"Jesus Christ," Kyle mumbled and reached for the vodka bottle again.

 

~*~

 

Thankfully their IDs went unquestioned, and they stepped into the bar without a problem. Immediately they were assaulted by loud country music, lots of horseshoe decorations, and the fact everyone had also dressed to theme. Honestly, Stan kind of liked it. Yeah it was cheesy, but he’d always been a sucker for a well executed gimmick.

"Aren’t you glad I got you these outfits?" Cartman asked, nudging Stan and Kyle in the ribs. "You’d look like idiots otherwise."

"Yeah, can’t imagine looking like idiots," Kyle mumbled.

Stan rolled his eyes and patted him on the shoulder. "I’m gonna take a leak."

"We just got here."

"Yeah but if I pee now then I won’t have to break the seal later," Stan explained. It was sound logic, he wouldn’t hear otherwise.

Kenny nodded. "Smart, I’ll come with."

Together they made their way through the door labelled ‘cowboys’, pissed, then washed their hands. As Stan was wiping his hands dry on his jeans, he looked over and saw Kenny tugging at the loose strands of hair around his face in the mirror.

"I really like these outfits dude," he said. "And it’s, like, made for you. Seriously you look amazing."

Stan flushed. "They’re pretty good."

Kenny grinned. "I love them. I think this is really my time to shine you know? Maybe I should move to a ranch. Do they still exist?"

Stan shrugged. "Farms are overrated."

"This would be like a farm with cute baby animals and stuff, not just weed," Kenny promised. He turned to look over his shoulder in the mirror, sort of like he was checking himself out. Stan wondered if he knew what he was doing to his head. "Plus I think I’d look good on a horse."

Stan closed his eyes and resolutely tried not to picture that, because he just knew it would make his head spin. "Yeah maybe. Hey, I’m gonna get some air."

He didn’t give Kenny a chance to talk, just powered out of the bathroom. He grabbed Kyle on his way through the bar and pulled him outside into the slightly warm night air.

"Dude!" Kyle said. "What’s your problem?"

Stan turned to look at him and Kyle flinched so he knew he had a particularly crazy look in his eye. "I thought the dress was bad Kyle but this? The cowboy outfit? It’s worse. I actually think it’s destroying my braincells one by one."

Stan reached up to put his hands in his hair but Kyle stopped him. "Alright, calm down, don’t do a Tweek over this. Just breathe."

"When did he get so attractive? Seriously? When?"

Kyle’s eyes widened. "Oh this is about Kenny?"

"Who else?" Stan asked and Kyle shrugged. He sighed heavily. "Cowboys are sexy. He was right."

"I… I feel like tonight has made you realise some things about yourself," Kyle said calmly. "We’re just gonna breeze past it, alright? Have a drink, take the edge off, and find another cowboy to dance with if you have to."

"I don’t want another cowboy."

"But do you really want Kenny? Come on, spleen boy?"

"He’s grown up really really well! He’d probably never eat a spleen now!"

Kyle made a face. "Are you sure?"

Stan sighed. "Well— I mean, it would take a lot more money now."

"Okay. Fair enough, but I just— I think you’re not actually feeling what you think you're feeling, okay?"

"What do you mean?"

"I think you’re nervous about leaving home and you’re, like, thinking about roads not travelled you know?" Kyle suggested.

Stan inhaled deeply. "Maybe," he said, but he knew otherwise, even if he hadn’t quite admitted it to himself yet.

Kyle nodded, pleased. "Come on. Let’s get you a drink, okay?"

He led Stan into the bar and ordered him a beer. After a few sips, Stan was feeling a little bit better, until he made the mistake of looking down the bar and his heart dropped into his stupid cowboy boots.

Kenny was talking to a girl.

She was tall with caramel hair and sun kissed skin, dressed in a tiny pair of shorts and a shirt that left very little to the imagination. She was also wearing Kenny’s hat, and he was smiling at her like she was a living breathing angel. She was very pretty. Stan couldn’t exactly blame him, or her for that matter. And they looked good together too.

Kyle squeezed his shoulder. "He talks to bimbos all the time."

Stan looked over. "What if she’s not a bimbo?"

"Okay maybe she’s not. But do you really think he’s met his soulmate in three minutes in a cowboy bar?"

"I’ve heard weirder stories."

Kyle pursed his lips. "If it’s really bothering you go say hi. Claim your territory or whatever."

"He’s not my territory," Stan pointed out.

"I don’t know dude, this isn’t my forte. I’ve got about as much experience with dating as I do with rocket science."

Stan sighed. "I’ll go talk to him."

"Attaboy. Don’t be sick in front of the pretty girl." Kyle gave him a little shove in the right direction and only responded with a thumbs up when Stan scowled at him.

He hovered awkwardly at the bar, just far enough away for it not to be weird. He wasn’t yet prepared to see Kenny flirting up close, but he could hear snatches of their conversation now.

"How old are you anyway?" she asked.

Kenny shrugged. "Old enough."

She smiled. "Are you an adult?"

"Course. I’m, you know, a man. Just not one who’s old enough to drink." Kenny looked directly in Stan’s direction and smiled. "Oh hey! Stan! This is my friend, he’s great."

Stan winced and slumped over to him and the girl. There goes his prep time. "Hi," he said weakly. She was even prettier up close. "I’m Stan."

She smiled warmly, showing off perfect teeth. "I’m Chloe."

Stan nodded and rocked back on his heels awkwardly. "So uh… Where are you from?"

"Texas. Needed a taste of home so you know." She gestured around the bar. Then she grinned. "You know I have a friend, she’s just over there, and you are just her type."

Stan’s eyes widened. "Oh— I— Really?"

"Yeah totally. If you want you boys can come with us to our next bar."

Stan opened his mouth to say something, but Kenny beat him to the punch. "No thanks. Sorry, but we shouldn’t abandon our friends."

Chloe looked disappointed but nodded. "I get it. Still, it was nice talking to you both. Enjoy the rest of your night."

Kenny smiled and it faded as she walked away into something a little more sour. Stan turned to him. "I thought you were into her."

"I was. But her friend’s not your type."

"What’s my type?"

"Not her."

"Sorry," Stan said after a moment. "It’s kinda my fault."

Kenny shrugged. "Mostly I’m pissed I’ll never see that hat again."

"She was pretty."

Kenny looked at him with an unusual expression Stan couldn’t quite place. "I guess. Not really my type."

"What is your type then?" As far as Stan could tell, Chloe had been just about perfect. She literally looked like one of those girls Wendy claimed only existed on the internet, except in real life.

"Don’t know." Kenny cleared his throat. "So uh… shots?"

"Yeah. Shots."

They ended up with tequila shots, and at some point Kyle and Cartman found them and joined in. After the second round, Stan’s drunken gaze locked onto the mechanical bull in the corner.

Fuck. Yes.

"Kyle. Ky. Kyle." He reached out and tugged on his sleeve until Kyle finally looked at him. "Bull."

"Oh. Oh no no no no." Kyle shook his head firmly. "No."

"Please, you know I’ve always wanted to do it," Stan whined. "Please!"

"No, Stan, not enough liquor in the world."

"Don’t look at me," Cartman said.

Stan pouted and waved a hand dismissively. "You’re probably over the weight limit anyway."

Kenny slammed his empty shot glass down and pointed at Stan. "Alright. You, me, mechanical bull. Let’s go."

Stan let Kenny pull him through the crowd without an argument. He could think of a few of course, but mostly his brain had gone offline, all focus taken up by the idea of him and Kenny being tossed around together. It was weirdly romantic, and Stan was at the stage of drunkenness where that was appealing rather than terrifying.

That switch only flipped back when he was situated on the stupid fake bull and Kenny wrapped his arms around his waist, making Stan regret every decision he’d ever made that led him to that point.

"My life is in your hands, cowboy," Kenny whispered. "Also Kyle’s filming already so don’t embarrass us, yeah?"

Stan looked over and sure enough Kyle had his phone held out and a big grin on his face. Cartman was next to him with a matching expression. Stan swallowed. "I’ll try my best."

"Don’t try, just do."

The machine whirred to life and Kenny’s grip around Stan’s waist tightened sickeningly. When they tipped forward, Kenny’s hips slid into his, and the reverse happened when they went backwards. There was no rhythm to it, but somehow Stan managed to adapt, and Kenny did too. They were honestly pretty good at it, or at least Stan thought so until the bull bucked aggressively and they went tumbling forwards into the pit. Kenny ended up splayed face down across Stan’s lap, and his body was shaking with laughter. Predictably, Stan felt that all too familiar feeling in his stomach and his mouth filled up with saliva.

"Are you okay?" Kenny asked through laughter as he sat up and pushed some hair out of his face.

Stan smiled even though it really wasn’t funny at all. "I think I’m gonna hurl," he admitted.

The fact he could open his mouth and get a sentence out really was a testament to how high his tolerance had gotten. He liked to think that maybe Wendy would be proud.

Kenny’s eyes went wide and he burst into another peel of laughter as he helped Stan to his feet. "Hang on until the bathroom, okay?"

Miraculously he managed to do just that, and only threw up when he was knelt in front of a toilet with Kenny sat just behind him. Kyle came rushing in a few minutes later, Cartman close behind.

"I’m so glad I got that all on camera," Kyle said, leaning against the sink.

"Told you it was a good idea!" Cartman said proudly.

"Yeah well you had to be due one."

Kenny snorted and rubbed circles between Stan’s shoulder blades. "Alcohol and being jerked around aren’t a great combo in retrospect."

Add a pretty cowboy into the mix and Stan thought it was shocking he had only puked once. "Knocked something off my bucket list I guess."

"That’s the spirit!" Kenny said, so happily it made Stan throw up all over again. "Oh dude. I think we’re gonna have to call it a night."

"No it’s okay," Stan insisted. "I’m fine I—" Kenny moved his hand to Stan’s hair, so casually and so gently, and another wave of nausea tore through his body. "No I’m done."

"I think so," Kenny agreed. He looked up at Kyle. "Will you..?"

"Already on the app. But I’m not paying the fee if Stan hurls in the Uber."

"That’s fair."

Kyle left the bathroom and Cartman followed, insisting he was booking the Uber wrong. Stan retched again when he realised he and Kenny were alone; it was like all the feelings he’d been repressing were just coming out.

Kenny rubbed his back calmly. "You’re such a mess, Stan," he said, but softly and with no heat. He almost sounded fond.

Stan nodded weakly and leant back against the wall of the cubicle, opposite Kenny. Their legs slotted together awkwardly, and Kenny was definitely close enough to see how rough he looked. "I know."

"I’m not judging, just so you know. I’m even worse than you some nights."

"I doubt that."

"No seriously. The first time I took acid I literally died."

"You didn’t literally die."

"Yeah… Sure. Anyway," Kenny dismissed. "Thanks for doing that with me, it was fun. Until, well, it wasn’t ." He gestured to the toilet.

"It was fun. I’d always wanted to do it."

"Me too. You don’t get a lot of opportunities." Kenny drummed his fingers on his knees. "We should go wait for the car with the others."

He helped Stan to his feet and led him outside. Stan didn’t feel queasy anymore, even though Kenny was holding his hand, but his face was definitely red. Luckily that meant he didn’t puke in the Uber, and made it safely to his room.

"I’m gonna see if I can get a bucket from front desk," Kyle said as he settled Stan down on his bed. Stan didn’t think that would be necessary but he just nodded. "Kenny can watch you."

Kenny grinned and let Kyle pass him through the doorway before kicking the door shut and jumping onto the bed. "I’m gonna watch you like a hawk."

He leant in close with wide eyes and Stan laughed. "Shut up." He put his hand on Kenny’s forehead and pushed him away. "I’m good now."

Kenny opened his mouth but was cut off by his phone ringing. He glanced at the screen and hopped up. "Yeah okay. I’m just gonna go outside and take this real quick, you’ll be alright?"

"Yes, yes, just go," Stan dismissed, shooing him away.

Once Kenny left, he took a moment to take stock. Physically he felt okay. His stomach had settled and he didn’t feel sweaty or anything like that. Emotionally however…

Stan didn’t really consider himself an overly jealous person. He had his moments, of course, but he’d never been jealous when Wendy spoke to random strangers. It was only when people like Tolkien, who she knew and cared for already, started getting flirty that Stan’s hackles went up. Even then, though, he knew deep down he didn’t really have to worry because at one point Wendy really had loved him back.

But now with Kenny he was just about losing his mind over pretty strangers who were a little bit too old for them. Maybe it’s because Kenny was a bit more loose than Wendy, or maybe it was because Stan, scarily, was more into him.

Either way it was time to call it what it was: love. Stan Marsh was in love, with his childhood best friend, and it was a mess.

Kenny walked back in and Stan perked up like a dog. He felt a bolt of adrenaline run through him, thrumming in his veins, just at the sight of Kenny. He wasn’t sure if it was from terror or excitement, but it was electrifying.

"That was Marj," Kenny said, waggling his phone about.

Stan inhaled deeply to settle himself, then frowned. "I thought she was grounded?"

"She is." Kenny sat down and groaned softly, and Stan swore he heard his bones shifting. He was pretty sure Kenny was actively falling apart. "She’s got a burner."

"Where’d she get a burner?"

"I gave it to her."

Stan nodded. "Okay." He paused. "Where’d you get a burner?"

Kenny looked at him and grinned. "We should all know by now that I know people."

Stan tilted his head, giving him the point. For as long as he could remember, Kenny had been able to get his hands on all the contraband a kid could want. When they were kids it was firecrackers and copies of r-rated movies or games. When they got older it was alcohol or porn or low class drugs. Whatever it was, Kenny would find his way to get it. He had a business at one point, selling these things out of his locker, but the school got too close during a routine check and it had been shut down immediately. Stan still remembered seeing Kenny sprinting down the hall with the sounds of liquor bottles clinking together ringing from his backpack, and his arms laden with tapes and magazines and a whole carton of cigarettes. He dropped a box of cherry flavoured vapes and Stan had done the only thing that seemed rational at the time; he’d grabbed it, and chased after him. They hid it in the vent in the boy’s bathroom, and took it all back to Kenny’s house after school.

"It’s nice she wants to check on you I guess," Stan said after a moment.

Kenny snorted. "Oh she’s not checking on me, she just wants to know what K—" He suddenly stopped and pressed his lips together.

Stan straightened up, interest piqued. "What?"

Kenny shook his head. "I shouldn’t have said anything."

"Kenny come on."

"No I’m drunk, I’m talking crazy. You can’t trust a word out of my mouth. I need to see a shrink, remember?"

Stan rolled his eyes. "Come on, please? I tell you, like, everything."

He really did. There hadn’t ever really been anything he desperately wanted to keep secret from Kenny, unless he was counting the recent developments to his feelings.

Kenny softened and sighed. "Fine, but you can’t tell anyone."

"I won’t."

Kenny grabbed his hands and squeezed. "I’m serious, you have to keep this shit locked up tight, alright?"

Stan nodded. "I swear."

Kenny swallowed and smiled. He leant in and dropped his voice. "She thinks Kyle’s super cute, like the best thing since fucking sliced bread, and she just spent the whole time on the phone trying to ask how he’s been doing and if he’s mentioned her."

Stan’s eyes went wide. " No ."

" Yes ."

"No!"

"Yes!"

Stan laughed and leant back. "Seriously?"

Kenny nodded. "She called him dreamy and I just about died, like you don’t get it Stan." He was talking with his hands, the way he did when he was really excited. "She’s so gone for him it’s sickening."

"Does Kyle know?" Stan asked.

"No of course not, he’s smart but he’s dense as fuck. I don’t even know if they’d be a good couple, like it’s so… Ah!"

Stan huffed a laugh. "I mean I can kinda see it? But I think she’s too nice for him."

Kenny nodded. "And they’ve both never really dated anyone, which could go either way I guess. Like it could be good but it could be a mess."

"She’s really never dated anyone? Like has she ever even kissed someone?" Stan couldn’t really picture it honestly. Sometimes he still saw her as that weird kid they all made fun of for being a wimp.

"I mean technically…" Kenny trailed off and scratched the back of his neck. "I kind of kissed her once."

Stan’s heart plummeted and he thought he was about to be sick again, for a totally opposite reason. "Oh."

"Yeah. We were like fifteen? And she was upset cause no one had ever kissed her and she didn’t know what it was like so I said I’d show her." Kenny buried his head into his hands, then peeked at Stan through his fingers. "It was just like… it was such a dickish thing to do, I feel really bad."

Stan swallowed. "Why?"

"I told you I think she liked me at some point?" Kenny asked and Stan nodded. "This was that point. And I knew that, it was so obvious, and I just totally led her on. But she only liked me cause I was nice to her and cause we’re… sort of the same, I guess."

Stan raised an eyebrow. "The same?"

Kenny nodded. "Yeah. Like we’re both different."

"Because you like to wear dresses."

"That’s part of it, I guess."

"Kenny?"

"Yeah?"

Stan swallowed. "Are you a girl?" he asked quietly.

Kenny held his gaze. "No."

"Then… why do you wear the girly clothes and makeup and stuff?" Stan continued after a moment. He’d been wondering for a while but had made a point not to ask. He didn’t want it to come across badly. "If you’re not like Marjorine."

Kenny frowned a little, not with his mouth but rather with his eyebrows, and picked at the button on his sleeve. "I don’t know. I want to. It feels normal."

"I’m not saying it’s not I—"

"I know what you’re saying, it’s alright." Kenny sighed. "Okay. You remember when we played fantasy and I’d be the princess?"

Stan nodded. Kenny had been so insistent on it and they all thought nothing of it really. Even the most judgemental adults were generally okay with it; just boys being boys. Or they assumed Cartman forced him to do it, that he actually wanted to be a knight or a wizard or an elf but couldn’t stand up for himself, when really it was the opposite that was true.

"I guess I never really grew out of it," Kenny said. "I like feeling pretty and girly, but I also like being a boy. I can be both, I think I am both."

Stan looked at Kenny and smiled. "I think that’s cool."

Kenny perked up. "Yeah?"

"Totally. I mean yeah it’s kinda weird, and I don’t really get it but I’ll try to and… I mean you don’t need my support or permission or whatever but yeah." Stan nodded. "Plus you can pull it off."

Kenny barked a laughed, sounding a little surprised by the last comment. "Oh really?"

Stan shrugged, a warm smile spreading across his face. "You make a pretty girl. And… a pretty boy."

Kenny softened a little. "You’re a pretty boy too Marsh. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise."

Kenny stretched his arms above his head and tilted his head to the side, a small action that made Stan’s stomach flip all over again.

"I’ve been testing the waters this summer, I guess," Kenny continued. "South Park’s pretty small minded and everyone’s up in everyone’s business. So I guess I’m figuring out if dressing like that is worth it."

"And is it?"

"I think so. I don’t really care what anybody in South Park has to say about it anymore because there’s a million and one things they all already judge me and my family for, so I might as well just wear the clothes I want. The only people whose opinions I really value are all leaving," he said with a small smile.

Stan nodded, then opened his mouth to ask a question he never would’ve even thought about if he wasn’t still buzzed. "Does that mean you want tits?"

Kenny looked at him in surprise before bursting into laughter. "I don’t think so. I love boobs but… I’m pretty okay with my body. Besides Bebe makes them sound like a hassle."

"I was just wandering cause Wendy took Marjorine bra shopping a while ago so… you know. It’s possible."

Kenny snickered. "I appreciate you wanting me to know about all my options. It’s very sweet, thank you Stan."

Stan smiled and watched as Kenny patted his hand then got up from the bed. He had a hand on the door handle when Stan suddenly spoke up.

"I overheard you in the car earlier," he said, unable to stop himself. "Talking about how you think me and Kyle are gay."

He decided he’d keep Cartman’s secret. The more he thought about it the less surprising it was, but it was not the worth the drama of talking about it. Plus Kenny would probably feel bad about it, even though it wasn’t strictly his fault.

Kenny turned to face him fully. "Okay. And?"

Stan scratched the back of his neck. "You’re not… totally wrong. About me anyway."

Kenny smiled. "I know dude."

"But I’m still figuring it out."

"Yeah. Don’t worry, I can keep a secret. You can come talk to me about it if you want."

Stan nodded. "I will."

"Cool. I’m gonna go to bed. I’ll see you tomorrow."

And with that, he left.

Kyle came in a few minutes later and deposited a bucket by Stan’s bed, then went to brush his teeth. Stan stood up and hovered outside the bathroom door.

"I’m in love with Kenny," he admitted. "I’m not… It’s not like I’m confused. I’m actually in love with him."

Kyle spat into the sink and nodded. "Okay. Good for you for figuring it out dude."

"Not really. It’s kind of a crap situation."

"Kinda. So you’re gay?"

"Don’t think so. I still like girls too."

"Bisexual then. Or whatever Kenny is."

"I think he said he’s… I think he said pansexual, once. I don’t really know the difference," Stan admitted and Kyle just shrugged wordlessly. Stan ran his fingers up the doorframe awkwardly. "This doesn’t change anything, right?"

Kyle looked at him, toothbrush hanging in his mouth. "No dude! I never really gave a shit who you dated anyway."

Stan huffed a laugh, faux casual even though it really did mean a lot. He wondered, briefly, if Kenny was right about Kyle too. "Cool. I’m gonna go outside and make a phone call."

"It’s kinda late, no?"

Stan shrugged. "Don’t worry about it. I’ll see you in a minute."

Stan stepped outside into the cool night and pulled his phone out of his pocket. His thumb hovered over his mom’s contact, before he scrolled all the way down to the bottom and pressed call.

"Hey," Wendy said after three rings. "Why are you calling me so late? Not that I’m not happy to hear from you but…"

Stan swallowed and pulled his jacket closer around his body. "I um… Is rain just melted snow?"

Wendy paused before answering, like she was trying to figure out his angle. "In some cases, yeah. Why?"

"Just you know… it came up."

"I see. Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I’m good. Still a little buzzed maybe. We went to a cowboy bar."

"Oh wow," Wendy said mildly. "Bet that was fun."

"It was. I rode a mechanical bull."

"You’ve always wanted to do that."

"Kenny was behind me."

A long pause. "Ah," Wendy said and just like that he knew she understood.

"I love him Wen," he confessed. "Like a lot."

"So what? Are you asking for my permission to date him? Because that’s really not necessary."

Stan shook his head. "No I just… I don’t know. I guess I did feel like I had to tell you, but mostly I wanted… a review?"

Wendy snorted. "A what?"

"You know me better than anyone else, at least in that way," he explained. "I just wanna know if I was a good boyfriend."

"Oh Stan…" Wendy sighed. "Alright. How brutally honest do you want me to be?"

"Very."

"Okay. We weren’t compatible because I found it very hard to make you care about anything, me included. Or if you did care, you didn’t show it, which maybe isn’t completely your fault but it meant we were never going to work out," she explained.

Stan swallowed, feeling very seen. This was what he wanted of course, but it was still slightly jarring. "Right."

"However you have changed for the better since then, I can see it. Mostly though we had issues that you will not have with Kenny," she concluded.

Stan frowned. "Elaborate."

Wendy laughed. "Like you said, I know you very well when it comes to love. This might be a recent revelation for you, but it’s not for me."

"What?" Stan felt a lump in his throat and it hurt to talk around it.

"You always looked at him like he was the white hot centre of the universe Stan," Wendy said softly. "Like nobody could compete with him."

Stan slid down the wall and sat with his knees propped up in front of him. "I think I’m stupid, Wendy."

She hummed. "Love makes everyone a bit stupid."

"It never made you stupid."

"Don’t you remember Miss Ellen?" Wendy asked. Then she sighed. "You made me stupid Stan."

"You made me really stupid too."

"Yeah I know. Actually, I think we know each other too well, Marsh."

"That could be true Testaburger."

She was silent for a moment before speaking. "You should get some sleep. Well I should too, but you especially."

"Probably," Stan said.

"Look after yourself Stan. Don’t be a coward."

"I’ll do my best. Talk to you soon."

"Goodnight. Love you."

"Love you too."

Stan hung up the phone, feeling a little lighter. It felt good to talk to Wendy with no awkwardness, no strings attached. He was reminded that he really did like spending time with her. He was glad they could be friends again.

He considered still calling his mom but decided she’d probably be asleep. His dad wouldn’t be, but he didn’t really want to talk to him. He hadn’t this whole trip; that probably said a lot. Stan just put his phone away and headed back to the room, tiredness overcoming him on the way. He passed out as soon as he hit the pillow, and he dreamed about Kenny. In this dream he was a real cowboy, with a lasso and pistol and everything, and nothing happened except he let Stan ride behind him on his horse.

It was probably the best dream he’d ever had.

Notes:

Can’t believe next week will be the last chapter! :O Also I’m not sure if I should tag the Kyjorine from this chapter as it’s obviously very minor and won’t be mentioned again until part two which will be a separate work. But I also don’t want people to be jump scared.

Chapter 7: See You Later, Alligator

Notes:

What a wild ride it’s been, but finally we’re at the end. I hope you’ll enjoy this final chapter, and thank you for making it this far! It really does mean a lot to me <3

Stan was pretty sure his heart had never dropped as quickly as it did when they first crossed Florida’s state border.

It was pretty early, and whilst he wasn’t exactly asleep, he had been dozily, and quite happily, daydreaming about nothing in particular. Someone’s music was playing on low and Kenny was visible in Stan’s periphery. It was nice.

But then the big sign welcoming them to Florida came into view and the atmosphere changed. Stan didn’t actually see it at first, but he did see Kenny straighten up and drop his foot from the dash. Then Cartman did the same beside him, and finally Stan looked out the window.

Instantly he felt sick. He wasn’t ready.

"Well. Almost there now," Kyle said quietly, breaking the tense silence that fell over them.

Kenny whistled lowly and leant back in his seat. "Yep." He turned to look at Stan in the back. "You okay?"

Stan exhaled and met his gaze. "Yeah. I’m okay."

He wasn’t. He wondered if Kenny could tell or if he was doing a good job at hiding it. That had never really been his forte.

"Are you sure?" Kenny pressed, proving the point.

"Yeah."

Kenny dropped it and faced the front again, but Stan got the impression that it wasn’t because he believed him, but rather because nobody in the car was really okay.

They made it to Miami, and their last motel, by the evening. Kyle had left room on their itinerary for a full day, their last day, before they had to go to the airport, but this still felt like the end. Stan knew he wasn’t the only one feeling it because everyone was largely and uncharacteristically silent as they got checked in.

Stan wasn’t really sure he slept that night either. If he did, it was very broken, and he didn’t remember much until Kenny burst into his and Kyle’s room in the morning. Stan blinked and sat up groggily as Kenny threw the blinds back, then launched himself onto Kyle’s bed.

"Get up, get up, get up," he chittered, shaking Kyle by the shoulders until he awoke with a start.

"Jesus Christ! What’s your issue Kenny, is the world fucking ending or something?" he demanded.

Kenny sat back and grinned. "My dudes, we are in the sunshine state! We’ve gotta make the most of it! Miami is awesome!"

"I didn’t realise you were so passionate about it," Kyle said dryly. He shoved Kenny to the side  and sat up. "Also it’s like… seven in the morning."

Stan looked at the clock and groaned when he saw Kyle was right. Kenny, however, didn’t seem to see the problem with that. "Where is your joie de vivre?"

"Look, dude, I think it’s just… We’re all kinda feeling a bit meh today. Cause of…" Stan swallowed and finished his sentence with a vague gesture.

Kenny jumped over to his bed and grabbed his hands. "All the more reason we need to make the most of it okay? Please?"

Stan sighed and let Kenny pull him to his feet. He couldn’t say no to him anymore. "Okay. Okay fine, what have you got planned?"

Kenny grinned. "How do you feel about alligators?"

"Positively, duh."

"I knew you’d say that." He spun on his heel and gestured in a rousing sort of way. "Everglades baby!"

Kyle didn’t look impressed. "Have you started drinking already?"

"No. This is my natural happy go lucky self, you just haven’t seen him in a while. Now chop chop!" Kenny clapped his hands together. "Get dressed and meet me outside in fifteen minutes. I’ve gotta get dough boy up."

"Good luck with that," Stan scoffed.

Kenny shot him a little salute and was out the door. Kyle groaned and rubbed his eyes. "And there goes Hurricane Kenneth," he mumbled. "Would it be wrong of me to say I wish he was still being pissy?"

"Yes it would. And you don’t."

Kyle sighed. "True." He got out up and stretched his arms over his head. "Okay. Let’s go spend some time in a swamp."

 

~*~

 

Kenny’s perkiness turned out to be contagious, and Stan was in a pretty good mood by the time they got to the Everglades. The sun was shining, he was with his friends, and, above all, he was about to see some alligators.

He didn’t flatter himself by thinking Kenny planned this just for him, but he obviously knew Stan would enjoy it. Pretty much anything with animals was a yes from him; except aquariums. They were cruel and unethical, and he’d stand by that for the rest of his life.

The heat turned to humidity out on the water, and Kyle’s complaining about his hair almost put a dent into Stan’s spirit, but then Kenny grabbed his arm and pointed.

"Stan look," he hissed. "There’s a whole herd."

"Congregation," Stan corrected. A year or two ago he’d gone down an internet rabbit hole about names for animal groups, and for some reason it had really stuck.

"Whatever just look!

Stan leant forward and sure enough, there was a group of four or five alligators watching them. A few of them seemed smaller; babies maybe.

Kyle grinned. "They’re kind of cute."

"Kenny that one keeps staring at you," Cartman snickering, nudging him. "I think he wants to eat you."

Kenny looked at him. "Shut up no he doesn’t."

"He so does, he thinks you look delicious."

Kenny swallowed. "Uh… No. People don’t just get eaten by alligators. I don’t think so."

Cartman grinned. "But if it was gonna happen to anyone…"

"It would be me," Kenny concluded sourly. "I know."

"You’ll be fine," Stan promised. "We won’t let you get eaten."

"I appreciate the sentiment but none of us could beat an alligator in a fight if it came down to it."

Cartman scoffed. "I totally could."

"As if, fatass," Kyle said. "In fact he probably wants to eat you, you’re a much more substantial meal than Kenny is. He’s all skin and bones. No offence."

"No, none taken."

"But Cartman’s all fat. He’d be chewy," Stan mused.

Cartman made an affronted noise. "I’m big boned!"

Kenny snorted. "A classic line. Haven’t heard that one in a while, actually, I was starting to miss it."

"Maybe when the alligator eats all the flesh we can see his skeleton and find out the real truth," Kyle suggested.

Stan nodded. "Yes that sounds like a good plan."

Kenny grinned toothily and leant back. "If we work together we can probably throw him in."

"You guys suck," Cartman stated, as if it were fact.

"Yeah, we do."

Neither Kenny nor Cartman were eaten by an alligator before their tour was over, and they all made it to solid land in one piece, only for Stan to be hit by a wave of emotion as he remembered all over again that this was their last day.

He trailed behind as Kenny walked them towards their next destination with a genuine pep in his step, and realised with a pang that he was running out of time.

If he was going to tell Kenny everything, tell him the truth, it would have to be today.

 

~*~

 

Suddenly Stan’s day turned into just waiting for the perfect opportunity to spill his guts to Kenny, but it never came. He thought about doing it when they got lunch, then again when they went to the arcade and Kenny beat some kid’s DDR high score, and even when they stopped for a smoke break outside a public restroom. But it just never felt right. Stan wasn’t sure what was missing, but every time he’d open his mouth the words would stick in his throat and he’d just know it wasn’t meant to be.

The day was winding down too. Kyle had gone online and found a nearby Mexican restaurant and booked a table for the four of them, and they were back at the motel to get changed before heading there. Kyle had already gone to get the car, so Stan flicked the lights off and opened the door, only to come face to face with Kenny. His eyes were wide and his fist was raised like he’d been just about to knock.

Was that a sign Stan should do it now? That Kenny had wanted to talk to him too? Probably not.

"Hey dude," Stan said mildly.

Kenny cracked a grin. "Hi." He sounded slightly out of breath for some reason.

Stan stepped outside and shut the door behind him. He smiled at Kenny and locked the door, then started towards the car park. He expected Kenny to follow him, but he wrapped a cold hand around Stan’s wrist instead.

"Wait Stan I need to tell you something," Kenny said. He swallowed and dropped Stan’s wrist, then massaged his knuckles in the way he always did when he was nervous about something.

"Yeah anything," Stan said quietly. Kenny was clearly worried and it was making his anxiety spike by proxy.

Kenny looked up at him and opened his mouth, then closed it again. "I um…" He cut himself off again and ran a hand down his face. "So basically I just like—"

"Ken you’re kind of scaring me, what’s wrong?" Stan asked with newfound urgency.

"No nothing’s wrong," Kenny said hurriedly. He took a deep breath. "I just have something I need to, like, get off my chest okay?"

Stan nodded. "Okay… Like what?"

"Guys can you hurry up we’ve got a reservation!" Kyle yelled from about twenty feet away.

Stan startled and turned around. "Okay!" he shouted back, then faced Kenny again. "What is it? Tell me, quick."

Kenny held his gaze for a moment, then smiled and shook his head. "Just that I, um… I don’t really have money for dinner tonight so you know…"

Stan exhaled softly. "Oh. Oh dude I thought you were gonna tell me you were dying or something."

Kenny laughed weakly as Stan ran a hand through his hair. "Sorry."

"No it’s cool. You just really know how to scare a guy. I’ll cover you for dinner, you know that."

"Thanks," Kenny mumbled.

"Of course."

It was weird of Kenny to ask. Normally he’d just lie and say he wasn’t hungry, or order a side salad and water or something. Stan wasn’t sure if he was glad that he did, if that showed improvement or if he was hiding something.

Kenny smiled slightly and pointed in Kyle’s direction. "Yeah so… We should go."

Stan nodded. "Oh, yeah. Definitely. Are you sure there’s nothing else you wanted to say?"

Kenny shook his head and walked off. "Nope."

Stan watched him for a moment, unable to shake the feeling he was lying.

 

~*~

 

After dinner, they arrived back at the motel and Kyle and Cartman both went straight to their rooms. Kenny, however, turned to Stan with a big smile and a glint in his eye.

"We can’t go to Miami and not go to the beach," he said plainly.

Stan sort of hated the beach. He found that every time he’d ever gone, which wasn’t frequently admittedly, he’d found sand in various places for weeks afterwards. But he just nodded because it was Kenny, who Stan was pretty sure had never seen the ocean before, who suggested it. They arrived by the time the sun was setting over the Atlantic, and Stan couldn’t help but look over at Kenny. The pink light hit his features just right, and Stan’s mouth filled up with saliva. He swallowed it and let Kenny drag him down to sit on the soft sand.

"Hell of a view," Kenny commented.

Stan looked at him. "Yeah."

Kenny kept his gaze fixed on the ocean. "Today’s been a good day."

"It has been," Stan agreed. "The alligators were cool."

"I knew you’d like that."

"Who wouldn’t?"

"I guess. But you like animals. You’re very caring in that way."

Stan smiled and felt his cheeks grow warm. "I do, yeah. Thanks I guess."

"You’re welcome."

Stan swallowed and watched Kenny for a moment more as he tied his hair up. Stan almost gasped when he pulled it away, revealing his neck, like he was some sort of Victorian era gentleman or maybe a vampire. He tied it in a ponytail that swished about at his jawline when he moved his head.

For some reason Stan decided it was now or never. He changed his position so he was facing Kenny directly, his heart attempting to break free from his rib cage, and cleared his throat purposefully. "Can I ask you something I’ve been thinking about all summer?"

Kenny finally looked at him, in what felt like slow motion, all wide eyed and smiley. "Of course you can."

Stan inhaled and his breath got stuck in his throat, along with the words he wanted to say. His pulse rushed in his ears threatening to deafen him, and he realised he couldn’t do it. Kenny looked so happy, all sun kissed and golden and light, and Stan couldn’t bring himself to ruin that with a question that had no good answer. Whether Kenny said yes or no, he was still going home tomorrow.

He exhaled and said the first thing that came into his head. "Did you um… Did you really sleep with Cartman’s mom?"

It was probably just a trick of the light, or maybe some masochistic wishful thinking, but Kenny looked disappointed for a second. "No. I do think she’s super hot, but I also think that would actually be really weird," he admitted. The he grinned. "Why, were you jealous?"

"Yes deeply," Stan drawled.

Kenny laughed and knocked their shoulders together. "Don’t worry. Pretty soon I’ll be the jealous one, when you have brand new much cooler Florida friends."

"I’m not going to meet anyone cooler than you," Stan said sincerely. "I don’t think that’s possible."

For the longest time, Kenny had been the epitome of cool in South Park. He smoked cigarettes and weed, he was a fun drunk not a sad drunk, and rumour had it he was the first boy to have sex in their grade. Kenny had never denied that one, so Stan assumed it to be true.

"Don’t be like that," Kenny said. "You’re gonna be fine. You’ll forget all about me and dusty old South Park in no time."

"I’m serious. Nobody here is gonna know me like you do."

Kenny swallowed and forced a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. "Do you promise?"

Stan took his hand and linked their pinkies together. "I promise."

Kenny held his gaze with an intensity that was almost vertigo inducing. Stan had to break away and he shoved his hands in his pockets. His left hand brushed against something plastic and he suddenly remembered something.

"Oh. I got you something actually." Stan pulled a little plastic baggie out of his pocket. "Tegridy’s Summer Special."

He’d stolen it from his dad before they left. Randy probably wouldn’t notice, but Stan knew he’d be too far away for him to do anything by the time he ever would.

Kenny grinned. "I didn’t know you do drugs."

"I don’t. But I’m gonna let you get me high for then first time. That’s my gift to you before we depart."

Kenny put a hand on his heart. "I might just cry."

"Please don’t that would make me super uncomfortable."

Kenny rolled his eyes. "You’re the one who gets choked up even thinking about Marley and Me."

Stan pointed at him seriously. "They loved each other so much and—"

"Yeah yeah. Gimme."

Kenny took the baggie and looked at it curiously. Stan wasn’t really sure what he was looking for, all weed looked the same to him. At any rate, Kenny seemed pleased.

Stan watched him prepare a joint, just as he’d done many times before. Kenny had started smoking cigarettes in ninth grade and weed in tenth. Stan only really started smoking to spend time with him, but he’d always had enough willpower to stay away from cannabis, purely out of spite. He refused to engage in the thing that tore his family apart.

But now he wanted to, because he knew Kenny would make sure he didn’t do anything stupid.

"Here," Kenny held the rolled joint out to Stan. "Just light it like a cigarette."

Stan nodded and took the joint, then pulled his lighter from his pocket. He lit it after a few tries, and looked up at Kenny expectantly. "What now?"

Kenny grinned. "You smoke it dumbass."

"Oh. Right."

Stan stuck it between his lips and hesitated before inhaling deeply. He held it for a moment then exhaled, and Kenny watched him through the smoke with an indescribable expression on his face; it almost looked like awe, but Stan couldn’t tell.

Stan held the joint out. "Your turn," he prompted.

Kenny accepted and maintained eye contact as he placed it between his lips, took a drag, then passed it back. After the second hit Stan started feeling it. It was like being underwater, a feeling of weightlessness that numbed stress he hadn’t even realised he’d been feeling until it was gone.

And then there was Kenny. He was smiling like the Cheshire Cat, head angled to the side and gaze fixed on Stan in a way that made him feel like the most fascinating thing in the world. He felt special, worth looking at. He was pretty sure that wasn’t the weed. It was all Kenny, and those damn eyes of his; or, at least, mostly it was.

Kenny leant in and Stan saw his pupils were blown wide. "Wanna shotgun?" he whispered.

Stan swallowed. He’d seen Kenny do it before at parties and stuff, mostly with Craig who was really the only person who could keep up with Kenny when it came to weed. It wasn’t really a kiss, but Stan didn’t trust himself at that moment and it was just a little too close.

"Okay," he said. He didn’t mean to, but his mouth seemed to be working independently from his brain.

Kenny grinned and sucked on the joint, then beckoned for Stan to come closer. He cupped his hands tight around Stan’s mouth then exhaled. His breath was warm and Stan forgot what he was meant to be doing for a moment and ended up choking slightly once he remembered to inhale. Kenny pulled away but stayed closer than he was originally.

"It’s fun, right?" he asked.

Stan nodded. He felt like he couldn’t blink, like he didn’t want to stop looking at Kenny for even a millisecond. He just looked so… good. Extraordinarily good, supernaturally good.

"You’re really pretty," Stan said, and there his mouth went again, just acting on its own.

"You’ve mentioned," Kenny said and he laughed like something was funny.

Oh yeah, Stan had been brave the night they’d dressed up like cowboys. It seemed so far off, now he couldn’t even tell Kenny he loved him. The thought of it was paralysing even with his inhibitions lowered like this in his current state.

"I’m… I’m really fucking hungry," he said eventually. He wasn’t even sure why, he hadn’t meant to. He also noticed they’d finished the joint; when had that happened?

Kenny laughed again and stumbled to his feet. He pulled Stan up to join him. "We should go get shawarma. I bet they have a place near by."

"What?"

"You know, it’s like a burrito but it’s not. The bread’s, like, thicker or something I don’t know. It’s like the perfect thing to eat when you’re high, I swear to God."

Stan’s stomach actually rumbled so he just nodded and let Kenny lead him up the beach and through the streets of the city. In that moment he really thought he’d follow him anywhere; if Kenny were to drag him into oncoming traffic, he’d have no complaints at all so long as he didn’t let go of his hand.

They found a place and both got chicken, and Kenny laughed through the whole order and still did not let go of Stan’s hand until they were sat on some steps in a secluded sort of area.

"It’s good, I promise," Kenny said. "I know you’re kinda picky so—"

"I’m not picky, I just know what I like," Stan argued. "Where’d you even try this, they don’t have this in South Park?"

"I was talking to this guy from out of town for a while. He took me out and we got this."

Stan frowned. "I didn’t know about that."

Kenny shrugged. "We didn’t end up seriously dating or anything. We made out a couple times, he didn’t know where to put his hands and he used way too much tongue and—" He shook his head. "Besides, if I talked about the people I date casually Cartman would have enough material to make fun of me until the end of time. I really know how to pick them."

Stan picked at the chicken in his wrap and wondered how many of these boys there had been. Then he wondered if there had been any girls. "So do you really trust that guy’s food judgement?" he asked eventually.

Kenny snorted. "Just eat it."

Stan did and Kenny was right, it was good. He was right about a lot of things. He was very smart, but it made Stan sad if he thought about it too much because it seemed like all that potential would just end up wasted.

"I don’t want you to be sad when we leave," he blurted out.

Kenny looked up, chewed slowly, then swallowed. "Uh…"

"I mean like be sad, sure, but don’t be sad . Like you’ve gotta live your life you know?" Stan frowned. "Am I even making sense?"

"Sort of. I think I’ll be okay though. It’s you I’m worried about," Kenny admitted.

Stan blinked. "Me?"

"Yeah I’m worried you’re gonna change." Kenny looked down and picked at his food, absently pulling out a piece of onion and dropping it on the floor. "Like when you come home I won’t recognise you. And not just you, I guess I worry about this with everyone but… mostly you. Cause I like you best."

"Would you not like me if I changed?"

"No dude. I’m worried you wouldn’t like me. Like you’ll outgrow me or whatever."

Stan shook his head vehemently. "No. Never. I hate change anyway."

Kenny smiled and sighed. "Look, just promise me you won’t go veggie just cause all the people in hipster bullshit Miami are," he said.

"I think you’re thinking of LA."

"Whatever just promise me you won’t."

"Okay. I won’t. I had a phase of it, and I don’t think I’m gonna revisit," he said and Kenny frowned. "Remember? With the baby cows?"

Kenny shook his head. "I don’t think I was there for that one."

"No you… You must’ve been, we did everything together I swear." Stan rubbed his forehead like that would somehow will the memory to come. "I think Marjorine was there… like in your place for some reason. And we dressed her up in your coat once I—"

He groaned and Kenny smiled. "You good?"

"Yeah this is just giving me a headache." Stan frowned. "Seriously, were you during all that?"

Kenny looked up, gaze piercing and almost hopeful. "Do you really not remember?"

Stan stared at his hands. He could feel something, deep in the back of his mind, something that made him feel very cold and sick and every other part of his body protested him following up on. But it felt important and relevant and—

"No," he said softly. "I don’t."

Kenny sighed and smiled sadly. "Guess we’ll never know," he said quietly.

Stan swallowed. "I’m sorry Kenny."

"For what?"

"I don’t know. Forgetting."

Kenny rubbed his arm reassuringly. "It’s alright, man. Can’t be helped. No point crying over spilled milk and all that."

"Yeah but I just… I don’t know, I’m really sorry, dude. Like I just feel so bad about it and I really tried but…" He trailed off with a groan and rested his head on his knees.

Kenny patted his back, then left his hand there as a warmth between his shoulder blades. "Thanks for trying Stan. Seriously, it means a lot."

Eventually they found themselves wandering the streets, arms looped together, as their high wore off. Stan looked over and saw Kenny with a smile on his face, the most genuine one he’d seen in a while. He looked relaxed in a way Stan rarely saw; it suited him.

"Can I ask another question?" he said after a minute.

"I didn’t sleep with anyone’s mother," Kenny replied.

"That’s not what I was gonna ask."

"Oh. Then yeah, go ahead."

"Did you enjoy this trip? Cause I kind of feel like you didn’t," Stan admitted.

Kenny smiled. "It’s been good. Crazy and stressful but… good. And I didn’t die so can’t complain really."

Stan found himself smiling too. "That’s a pretty low bar."

"Eh you’d be surprised." Kenny softened and squeezed Stan’s arm. "It’s seriously been great. Just kind of hard to not think about how it’s our last night as kids, you know?"

Stan nodded. "I know. It’s kind of not feeling real," he admitted.

Kenny grinned. "You’re gonna have to grocery shop for yourself soon."

"Don’t even. I’m gonna be such a sucky adult."

"Me too."

Stan looked at him. "I mean… I think you’re kind of an adult already. You have, or had I guess, a real job, you figured out how to do taxes all on your own, you cook, you clean," he listed.

Kenny frowned. "Huh. Yeah. Jesus Christ, you just laid out my whole life and it’s so freaking sad." He sighed. "And now all I can think about is that I’m gonna have so much shit to take to the laundromat when we— when I get home."

"Sorry for the reminder."

"It’s fine. Should probably start getting back to reality anyway."

Stan looked at him. Maybe it was because sometimes he still saw Kenny as the kid who got overly into their games of superheroes and fantasy, but it sort of felt wrong to hear him say that.

"Come on…" Stan nudged him. "We still have some time."

Kenny looked over and smiled. "Stan—"

"Seriously. Maybe we just need to act like kids again."

"And how exactly are we gonna do that?"

Stan chewed on his bottom lip then decided fuck it . He took Kenny’s hand and ducked into a bow.

"What the fuck are you—"

"I exist only to serve you, my princess," he recited, maintaining heavy eye contact. Jesus. This used to be a lot easier when he was a kid; did he sound that corny back then?

Kenny caught on and grinned. "And I thank you for your unyielding service to the crown, Sir Marshwalker."

"Please, Princess, call me Stanley."

"As you wish. I have a request of you, if it is not too much trouble."

Stan straightened up, but still held Kenny’s hand. "Anything."

Kenny flicked his ponytail over his shoulder. "The evil Wizard King has restricted me from leaving the palace grounds, but it gets so lonely being trapped in such a way. I was hoping you could take me away from this place."

Stan frowned. "That would be insubordination."

"You are my knight, no? You belong to no one else."

"Very well. We shall go."

Stan swept Kenny up in his arms bridal style, just like they always used to when they were kids. It didn’t even feel weird now they were older and things were very much different. Kenny just laughed and looped his arms around Stan’s shoulders, slotting into place like they’d never stopped doing this. Stan made sure he wasn’t about to drop Kenny, which was probably the most mortifying thing he could think of, and took off at a run. Kenny shrieked in surprise and people were staring but Stan kind of didn’t care anymore.

"Where are we going?" Kenny asked through laughter.

"The uh… I don’t know, the enchanted forest!"

"Oh yeah, the enchanted forest, of course."

"Cut me some slack, I don’t remember everything from back then."

Kenny snorted and curled in slightly so his face was obscured in the crook of Stan’s neck. It threw Stan and he nearly came to a screeching halt but he pushed through it. Sir Stanley Marshwalker did not throw up when the princess showed affection, so he couldn’t either.

He only stopped when they arrived at a park they’d walked past earlier. It had emptied out now the sun was going down, and he set Kenny down on a swing before sitting himself on the accompanying one.

"The forest is beautiful, isn’t it?" he said.

Kenny grinned. "I apologise for doubting you, Stanley."

"You need not, Princess. I wanted to take you somewhere as beautiful as you, and it was understandably challenging to find a place."

Kenny’s eyes softened and he held onto the chain of the swing like his life depended on it. "Am I just an object of beauty to you?"

Stan shook his head. "Of course not. You are the jewel of the kingdom, your wit and kindness is spoken of across the lands," he said.

Kenny leant in slightly. "You have a wonderful way with words."

"You are something of a muse for me," Stan said and instinctively he moved closer too.

Kenny looked at him, eyes shining in the dying sunlight, and swallowed. His gaze moved downwards and Stan realised Kenny was looking at his lips. Suddenly he became self conscious of them; he’d never thought about his lips before, and he couldn’t really remember what they looked like, or if they were dry or not.

He also suddenly realised he didn’t know how to kiss. He hadn’t kissed anybody since tenth grade, when he and Wendy finally broke up for good. Was he supposed to use tongue, or not? Would kissing Kenny be different?

Stan pulled back sharply, startling Kenny a little if the way he flinched was anything to go by. "We uh… We need to get back to the motel," he stammered. "It’s getting late, you know?"

Kenny blinked rapidly and stood up. "Oh. Yeah. Duh, I was just— Let’s go."

Stan got to his feet and followed Kenny out the park. It was only in retrospect that he realised how stupid he was, for assuming Kenny actually wanted to kiss him. He was misreading something, or maybe they both just got too into character, but either way if that was real, Kenny wouldn’t be so shy about it. He wasn’t a coward like Stan was when it came to love. When he saw someone he wanted, he went for it. That’s how he ended up with Nichole dumping a cup of punch over his head at their eighth grade dance, and coincidentally also how he ended up not being on very good terms with Tolkien for a few months afterwards. Kenny knew he was special. He was also surely smart enough to know Stan wasn’t.

They were silent until they got back to the motel, at which point Kenny turned to look at him with an awkward sort of smile.

"Thanks for…" Kenny inhaled deeply. "Well. Everything, I guess."

Stan swallowed and forced himself to smile. "Save it for tomorrow, okay?"

Kenny laughed and reached out to squeeze Stan’s arm. "Okay. We should probably get some sleep, so I’ll see you later Stan."

Stan nodded and watched him go. "Wait Ken!" he called out suddenly.

Kenny turned, one hand already on the door handle, and tilted his head. "Yeah?"

Stan inhaled deeply. "Just uh… Thanks. For tonight. It was fun."

Kenny smiled. "Yeah it was. Night."

"Night."

Stan watched him go, then pinched the bridge of his nose hard . He’d missed his window.

He hesitated a moment more before going into his room. Kyle was already there, sat cross legged and watching something on his phone, but he put it down when he heard Stan enter. "Hey— What’s up with you?" he asked with a frown.

Stan shrugged. "Nothing."

"You reek," Kyle said, then narrowed his eyes in a hawklike manner. "Are you high?"

Stan shook his head. "Not anymore."

"But you were."

Stan shrugged. "Legalise it."

Kyle’s eye twitched. "They already have."

Stan waved a hand dismissively and flopped face first into his pillows. A moment passed and he felt Kyle sit down on the bed beside him.

"What did you get up to with Kenny?" he asked. "Other than getting high."

Stan looked up to see Kyle’s knowing expression. "We played knight and princess."

Kyle, for once, looked surprised. "You— Huh?"

"We played our game again. It was fun. It’s just, you know, about being kids again."

Kyle’s eyes widened a little and he chewed on his thumbnail the way he always did when he was thinking about something. "Being kids again." Stan nodded. Kyle looked at him, then got up. "We’re gonna have a sleepover."

Stan sat up and watched as Kyle grabbed the pillows off the bed, then the backpack holding the remainders of their snacks. "Huh?"

"We’re having a sleepover, get your shit, we’re going next door."

Stan just did as he was told. He grabbed his bags and followed Kyle next door, then waited as he knocked loudly. Kenny answered, already in the oversized t-shirt and boxers he wore to bed, and frowned.

"What’s up? Why have you got your shit?" he asked.

"Sleepover," Kyle said simply, and pushed past him into the room.

Kenny raised an eyebrow at Stan, then stepped back to let him in. "Sure. Sleepover."

Stan walked in and dropped his bag on the floor. Cartman was watching from his bed like Kyle was the subject of a particularly interesting nature documentary.

"What is he doing?" he asked.

Kenny shrugged. "Sleepover apparently."

"Yeah," Kyle said, grabbing some pillows. "Sleepover. Everyone get on the floor."

Stan and Kenny did just that, and Cartman followed after a moment. Kyle smiled at them and sighed happily, clearly pleased with himself.

"What now? Do we talk about our crushes?" Cartman asked. For some reason he looked at Kenny with a smile.

"No," Kenny said quickly. "We should play a game or something. Not the secrets game."

Cartman pouted. "But I wanna play the secrets game!"

"Well tough!"

"What are you gonna do if I just make us play it?"

Kenny shrugged. "Punch you again?"

"God that feels like a lifetime ago," Kyle said. "I still wish I saw it."

"It’s not that impressive," Kenny said humbly. "He’s weak as fuck."

"I am not!" Cartman squawked.

"You kind of are," Stan said. "I don’t think you’ve ever won a fight."

"That’s cause I hold back."

"Bullshit!"

"There’s one way to prove it." Cartman rolled his sleeves up. "Arm wrestles come on."

"You’re going to lose," Kyle pointed out.

And sure enough, he did lose, to all three of them. Stan beat Kyle, and so did Kenny.

"When the hell did you get so strong?" Kyle muttered, shaking out his hand.

Kenny grinned and pushed his sleeves up then flexed proudly. Kyle’s jaw dropped and Stan felt a weird sense of vindication that he wasn’t the only one totally flabbergasted by this. "Car jacks," Kenny said simply.

"That’s— I mean—" Kyle leant forward and squeezed Kenny’s arm. "Yeah. For a skinny dude that’s impressive."

"Thank you Kyle."

"You’re welcome, I guess."

Kenny dropped his arms and shook them until his sleeve rolled back down. "I didn’t really think it would be so surprising. Obviously you don’t pay enough attention to me."

Stan looked at him. "Ken—"

"I’m kidding. Come on, it’s you and me now."

"You’re not winning this one," Stan warned.

Kenny rolled his eyes. "I’m pretty sure you’re all bark."

"Kenny be so serious right now. I’m the only one of us who actually goes to the gym."

"And I’m the only one of us who spends all week lugging tyres around so let’s go."

Stan sighed heavily and took Kenny’s hand. It was slightly cold and he wrapped his slim fingers tight around Stan’s hand.

Kenny was strong, but Stan was stronger. Really it wasn’t that fair a fight. But Stan looked over and saw Kenny biting down on his bottom lip, eyebrows furrowed and his gaze intense, and realised he needed a win.

This summer so far he’d lost his job, watched all his friends graduate without him, and was about to go back to a house he hated all on his own. Stan knew logically that losing an arm wrestle wouldn’t send him over the edge, but he also knew Kenny didn’t deserve anymore bad things. And maybe, if Stan put enough intention behind it, he could somehow tell Kenny he loved him with actions not words.

So he threw the game.

Kenny cheered and Stan put on his best show of acting upset about it. Kenny leant in and stuck his tongue out. "Told you," he gloated.

"Yeah. Guess you’re the strongest."

Cartman immediately demanded a rematch from Kenny, and Stan leant back to watch. Kyle shuffled closer and knocked their shoulders together.

"You could’ve beat him," Kyle murmured.

Stan smiled. "Yeah. I know."

Kyle looked at him. "You’re a good guy, you know that right?"

Stan shrugged slightly. "It’s not a big deal."

Eventually Cartman seemed to come to terms with his loss and they migrated to all sit on one bed. It was a tight squeeze, and Kenny ended up halfway onto Kyle’s lap, but it worked.

"Remember when it used to be super easy to share a bed?" Kyle asked, moving Kenny off of his thigh and into the space between his legs.

They always used to curl up, just the four of them, under one blanket whenever they had sleepovers. It had never really occurred to them to use sleeping bags or anything like that, they just preferred to sleep in a pile.

And so they did just that, one last time. Stan never slept so soundly in his life.

 

~*~

 

Stan woke up with Kenny’s hair in his mouth, Kyle curled up against his back, and Cartman’s elbow digging into his stomach, and he was hit with a wave of sadness that could only be described as paralysing.

All of their phones were playing the same alarm, except for Kenny’s since he had an Android, and it was hurting Stan’s head but he couldn’t move. Not just because of their weird positioning, but because he didn’t want to.

Kyle did though. He groaned and sat up, prompting Kenny and Cartman to do the same. They all silenced their phones and Kyle threw Stan’s at him. It bounced off of his chest.

"You guys have such agressive alarms," Kenny muttered. His hair was sticking up in every possible direction and he had drool crusted onto his face. His t-shirt was hanging off of one shoulder and his eyes weren’t even fully open, meaning he still looked half asleep.

Cartman grumbled something in response that Stan couldn’t make out. He sat up finally and looked at his phone. It was four in the morning.

"We’ve gotta move," Kyle said. "Or we’ll miss our flights."

Stan didn’t want to, but he did because everyone else was. He drove, since he’d be the only one left to drive back anyway, and nobody played any music. They were entirely silent until they’d gotten to the airport and Cartman bought them all coffee, at which point they woke up a little bit and Kyle promptly burst into tears.

Stan didn’t really register it was happening until Kenny set his cup down and wrapped his arms around Kyle’s shoulders. Once it set in that this was actually happening, he moved closer and put a hand on Kyle’s arm. "You okay dude?"

Kyle nodded and scrubbed at his eyes. "I think I’m overtired," he said weakly.

"Or, and I’m just throwing this out there, you’re upset cause you’ve spent this whole trip repressing shit and being the stable one and now it’s hit you that you’re not gonna see your friends for months?" Cartman suggested. Everyone looked at him and he shrugged. "What? I can notice stuff too you know."

Kenny frowned but looked back to Kyle. "Is he actually right for once in his life?"

Kyle nodded and scowled. "I hate this so much."

Kenny grinned and rested his head on top of Kyle’s curls. He was kneeling on a planter behind their bench, which gave him the height necessary to do so. "Aw Kyley… you’re kind of fucked up aren’t you?"

"A little bit."

Stan felt tears well up in his own eyes and he swore under his breath. "Come on dude, you’re gonna make me cry."

"Sorry."

"Oh for— Save the faggy bullshit for the gates, okay? I fucking love the airport and you’re not gonna ruin it for me," Cartman snapped.

Kyle seemed to snap out of his sadness pretty quickly. "What kind of psychopath likes the airport?"

"Oh come on! Duty free is awesome!"

"That’s a good point," Kenny agreed.

Kyle laughed. "You’re both so weird."

"Yeah but they’re our kind of weird," Stan said.

"Yeah. We’re all South Park weird."

Whilst Cartman had made a good point about duty free, there wasn’t much to do until getting to that point. They drank their coffees, and ate an overpriced breakfast, until check in for Cartman’s flight to LA was announced.

Kenny looked at him with wide eyes. "Was that..?"

"Yeah that’s me. I’m gonna miss you most poor boy," Cartman said sincerely.

Kennt smiled and hugged him tight. "Try not to wipe California off the map, okay?"

"No promises."

Cartman let Kenny go then turned to face Stan. "Bye."

Stan rolled his eyes and hugged him. "See you around."

"Ugh. Yeah okay. God." He pushed Stan away but not before gently squeezing him back.

And then he gave Stan an intentional look, before flicking his gaze over to Kenny in a way that made Stan’s blood run cold. He shook his head minutely. Cartman frowned but seemed to let it go, for once in his life, and turned to Kyle.

He held out a hand and Kyle stared at it. "What?"

Cartman scoffed. "Come on, we’ve had a good rapport over the years."

"If you mean you being an antisemite, then yeah," Kyle said.

"Come on Kyle, don’t be a bitch baby about it."

Kyle sighed heavily and shook his hand. "Try not to get worse when you’re away."

"Right back at you." Cartman dropped Kyle’s hand and shoved his in his pockets. "Okay. So… I’m going. See you losers later."

Stan waved and watched him walk away with a weird feeling in his chest. He honestly hadn’t expected saying goodbye to Cartman of all people to be difficult. Kenny looked upset, which was to be expected, but Stan found himself surprised to see Kyle did too.

"I’m weirdly gonna miss him," he admitted when he saw Stan looking at him.

"Yeah. Me too."

They had a few hours to kill before Kyle and Kenny’s flights, but not much to do. Stan expected it to feel excruciatingly long but it didn’t. In fact it had the opposite it effect. One minute they had four hours, then he blinked and Kyle was grabbing his bags.

"Where are you going?" Stan asked, him and Kenny both scrambling to their feet after him.

Kyle swallowed. "I’ve gotta go, Stan."

He opened his mouth but no sound came out, and he watched as Kyle pulled Kenny into a hug. Kenny had to reach up on tip toes to wrap his arms around him, and his head didn’t quite reach Kyle’s shoulder.

"Look after yourself okay?" Kyle said softly. "Don’t be a hero."

"I wouldn’t dream of it," Kenny replied and his voice sounded wet. "Try to have some fun without me, alright? I know it’ll be hard but try."

Kyle laughed and pulled back. "It’ll be so hard."

Kenny nodded and wiped at his eyes. "I know. I’m just the light of your life, obviously."

"Yeah one of them."

Kyle sighed and let Kenny go, then turned to Stan. Kenny cleared his throat. "I’ll give you some space."

Kyle nodded gratefully and waited for Kenny to leave before smiling at Stan. There were tears in his eyes. "We’ve done alright, haven’t we?"

Stan grinned and tears spilled over his cheeks. He wiped them away and nodded. "Yeah. Not too bad."

Kyle sniffed. "So um… Fuck, dude, you know you’re my best friend. I don’t have to say it do I?"

Stan shook his head. "You’re my best friend too. I know, trust me."

"Good cause I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t be able to get through a speech," Kyle admitted with a wet laugh.

Stan laughed too and pulled Kyle into a hug. "I’m gonna miss you dude. And all your nagging."

Kyle squeezed Stan tight. "I’ll call you once a week to remind you to do your laundry."

"If you get a new best friend I’ll kill you."

"I wasn’t kidding."

"I wasn’t either."

Kyle laughed and it sounded suspiciously wet, then let Stan go. "Seriously. Take care of yourself Stan, and don’t be stupid."

Stan smiled. "And you have fun. Don’t be an uptight asshole all the time."

Kyle grinned and squeezed his shoulder one last time before stepping back. "I’ll see you around Marsh."

"Not if I see you first."

Stan already had a lump forming in his throat as he watched Kyle leave, and it threatened to choke him when Kenny tapped his shoulder. He had to close his eyes before turning to face him, vertigo already setting in heavy.

"I’ve um— Fuck." Stan opened his eyes to see Kenny wiping his. "I’ve gotta go too," he said weakly.

Stan wasn’t ready. "Really?"

"I wish I didn’t."

Stan thought about asking him to stay. Telling him he loved him, and he should miss his flight and live with him Florida. But he knew that would be selfish, and he didn’t want to be selfish as much as it seemed to be in his nature. So he just nodded.

Kenny looked at him expectantly for a moment. "Remember your promises okay? Don’t forget about me, don’t you dare turn vegetarian, and don’t make friends with anyone cooler than me."

Stan laughed. "Come here."

Kenny was crying now, but quietly, and he practically crushed Stan with his hug. Stan held on just as tight, lifting Kenny up onto his tip toes. He inhaled deeply, trying to remember Kenny’s scent; like cigarette smoke and cheap cologne and something sweet he couldn’t place.

Then he focussed on imprinting how Kenny felt in his arms firmly into his mind. He didn’t want to forget the curve of his spine, or the way his arms felt around his shoulders, or how his hair was tickling his chin.

"Don’t be a stranger," Kenny whispered, voice cracking right against the shell of his ear, and Stan tried very hard to commit that to memory too. "Please."

Stan squeezed him extra tight. "Never," he promised. His voice came out as a squeaky sob that made Kenny laugh wetly.

When they finally broke apart Kenny wiped his eyes on his sleeve. He didn’t move until the last call for his flight rung over the intercom, and his shoulders shook with more sobs.

Stan sniffed loudly, acutely aware of the fact they were attracting a few glances, and put a hand on Kenny’s shoulder. "Go give South Park hell for us all, okay?"

Kenny inhaled shakily and nodded. "I’ll see you around Stan."

He offered him a little salute before turning around and walking towards the gate. Stan held his breath, waiting for something. He wasn’t sure what until it happened.

Kenny turned to look over his shoulder back at Stan. He dropped his bags and sprinted back over, then grabbed him by the jaw. Before Stan could realise what was happening, Kenny’s lips crashed into his. It was over before Stan could take the time to memorise how it felt, but Kenny kept a tight grip on his jaw, eyes darting about like he was taking in every single detail of Stan’s face.

"Kenny…" Stan said softly, his name the only word on his mind.

Stan’s voice seemed to snap Kenny out of whatever fugue state he’d entered. He pulled away and put a shaking hand over his mouth, eyes wide in actual terror. And then he ran away.

And Stan just watched him leave.

He didn’t really freak out until he got back to the car, at which point it all caught up with him. Kenny kissed him and it felt like a knife to the heart or a baseball bat to the skull.

 

~*~

 

The next day passed by in a blur of nothingness, until his phone rang at almost midnight.

He had his dorm to himself; his roommate, some kid named Jason, wouldn’t be arriving for a few weeks. It was painfully generic and Stan hadn’t been able to sleep. He lunged for his phone and his heart honest to God skipped a beat when he saw who it was.

"Kenny," he breathed as he picked up. "Hi."

"Hey. We need to talk." Kenny sounded tired and far off, the way he did after a long day at work. Or the way he did when he was high. Stan couldn’t tell which it was without a visual.

He rolled onto his back and stared at the popcorn ceiling above him. "Yeah we do."

"Look I’m sorry," Kenny said.

"Don’t be. It was—"

"It was wrong," Kenny said firmly. "I shouldn’t have kissed you."

The words died in Stan’s throat. He hadn’t stopped thinking about it since it happened. It hadn’t felt wrong; the opposite in fact, it felt like it was meant to happen. "But you did," Stan said quietly, because he didn’t know what else to say.

"I know. I think I just… I got overwhelmed," Kenny said quietly. "It made sense at the time but now…"

Stan’s stomach plummeted so hard and so quickly he felt like he was going to throw up, and he realised he was an idiot. "You regret it."

"I didn’t say that."

"Okay. It didn’t mean anything."

There was a long staticky pause. "No. It didn’t."

Stan closed his eyes and pinched his nose so Kenny wouldn’t hear him sniffle. It was stupid to cry over this. Of course it didn’t mean anything, he’d just gotten his hopes up for nothing. "Okay. That’s— Yeah. Good, you know, cause that would be weird."

"Super weird. I’m sorry. Seriously, I didn’t wanna make you uncomfortable or anything."

"It wasn’t uncomfortable just… like you said you know. It’s meaningless."

"Exactly," Kenny said quietly. Stan wondered what was happening on his face, if he was laying on his bed or sat at his desk, what he was wearing. All those little things he’d taken for granted. "I’ll let you go dude, you’ve probably got a busy day tomorrow."

Stan really didn’t, but he nodded then, a moment later, remembered Kenny couldn’t see him. "Okay. Night."

"Goodnight Stan. Call me later, okay? I miss you already."

Stan swallowed and his breath hitched dangerously. "Miss you too."

Another long pause, where Stan thought maybe Kenny had hung up. "I love you."

Stan pressed the round red button and threw his phone across the room. That night, he cried himself to sleep for the first time since his parents divorced.

Out of spite, he didn’t call Kenny the next day.

Or the next day.

Or the next day after that.

Or even the next day after that.

Notes:

Fear not, there will be a sequel. I could’ve just made it a longer fic but tonally it’s so different that separating them just felt right. Plus I need a little two month break in between lol. I hope you enjoyed this for what it was, and that you’ll be back for a angstier holiday themed reunion <3

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 1 of Pulling Trig