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nightttdreamers · 2 years

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Metallic / Kenny x Craig

hello! here’s some friends with benefits to lovers crenny. i put a lot of work into this fic and im rlly happy w how it came out. feel free to check it out on ao3, i would love to hear any feedback yall have. hope you enjoy!!!!

Ao3 Link | 8k words | One Shot

Kenny did not expect to become fuck buddies with Craig Tucker. He also never expected that he'd fall in love with him.

Kenny doesn’t even like cigarettes.

His throat is always sore, he can’t wash the smell out of his hair, and this nasty little habit is burning a hole in his wallet too.

But, here he is, standing in an alley between a cell-phone repair store and South Park’s only dance studio, sparking one up.

He hates to admit it, but all that anti-drug stuff they taught in school might’ve been right. Not about booze and pot or anything like that. Getting high is one of the greatest parts of being alive, Kenny thinks. But, all that stuff about how quickly nicotine changes your brain and gets you addicted before you know it is pretty on the mark.

“Got one for me?” Pipes up a voice from the opening of the alley.

Well, maybe the cigarettes aren’t the only thing Kenny can’t quit.

Craig Tucker stands at the end of the alleyway, hands shoved deep in his pockets. Kenny looks at him, holding the smoke in his chest for a little too long. He stifles a cough as Craig steps over the trash at the mouth of the alley and towards him. Kenny loves this part, watching the other’s silhouette against the light that shines in from the parking lot, the way his long legs carry him over with practiced ease.

In a town like South Park, watching the boy you might be in love with walk through a dirty alley is probably the most beautiful sight there is.

“Hey,” Craig says as he comes to stand across from Kenny.

“Hey,” Kenny responds, pulling the hood of his parka down so he can properly look up at the other. He runs a hand through his hair, hoping that it’s giving purposefully fucked-up rather than fucked-up from not being washed for a few days.

Craig watches this with his typical neutral expression. Over the course of the two months they’ve been meeting like this, Kenny has gotten a lot better at reading him. Now, he knows the difference between mild interest, mild annoyance, mild disgust, and mild boredom, which all look the same on Craig to the untrained eye.

Currently, Craig is giving him a mildly impatient look that prompts Kenny to slide another cigarette out from the pack in his pocket and hold it out. “Here, needy.”

“ I’m needy?” Craig asks with an exhale, lips curling in amusement. He takes the cigarette, then takes a matchbook out from his pocket and lights it. It’s one of his quirks that drives Kenny crazy. He’s desperate to find out why Craig just doesn’t buy a lighter.

Kenny takes another drag of his cigarette, shrugging. “Always bumming cigs off of me, that’s kind of needy, Craig.”

Craig looks down at him in that way, when he doesn’t tilt his entire head down, just his eyes. “If you want to talk about needy we can talk about you under the bleachers last week-” He’s cut off by a quick shove to his shoulder which sends him back a step. Craig doesn’t even flinch, his smile just becomes even more smug.

“You’re the one that almost got us caught, remember? You were all like-” Kenny gives an incredibly out-of-character Craig impression that’s more akin to a pornstar than the quiet boy in front of him. “ F-fuck, Kenny! Give me more! I need you s-so bad!”

Now, Kenny is cut off as Craig pushes his back against the brick wall, slamming their lips together. He falls into the kiss easily, reaching up to grip the collar of Craig’s shirt to pull him even closer.

Their kisses always taste like cigarettes, maybe that’s why Kenny can’t stop smoking.

Craig breaks the kiss, lips hovering just above Kenny’s. “Wanna go to my car?” He asks, and Kenny is already dragging him back through the alley.

Being fuck buddies with Craig Tucker was the last thing on his senior year bucket list. The two barely spoke at school except for when they overlapped at the occasional party or exchanged notes in class. It wasn’t that they were un friendly, both boys just seemed to keep their own kind of distance from everyone. For Craig, that was his general apathy that he extended to everyone outside of his immediate circle. For Kenny, that was maintaining a general amiability with the student body, but never getting too close with anyone except for his few friends.

He was always drawn to Craig, though. At first, it was probably just because Craig was one of the only openly gay kids in their school, so he was an easy subject of Kenny’s closeted fantasies during his pubescent years. However, as time went on, he always paid just a little more attention to Craig than everyone else.

It helps that Craig is hot.

Maybe not picture-perfect stunning in the way those guys from Karen’s teen magazines are, but Kenny can’t stop looking at the guy. The sharp, downward angle of his nose, the way his lower lashes flutter when he rolls his eyes, the veins protruding from his forearms down to his hand. Even the way his dark hair pokes out from the back of his stupid puffball hat when it gets too long.

So, when Kenny ran into Craig outside the dance studio two months ago, he took it as a sign from a higher power that he’s got to get into the guy’s pants.

Turns out, Karen McCormick and Tricia Tucker are good friends who take ballet class together Mondays and Wednesdays from 7:00-8:00. Even though she’s thirteen now, Kenny insists on taking Karen to and from class, since he doesn’t want her walking back alone in the dark. There’s not much to do for the hour of the class except to roam the shopping center, since he can’t get very far on his bike.

Craig’s excuse was that his parents made him take Tricia back and forth and that he liked being out of the house anyway. The two had their first awkward encounter in the parking lot the second week of class. Kenny had no idea what to say, since he couldn’t start with “Hey, you’ve been at the top of my to-do list since freshman year, wanna do hand stuff in that alley?”

Luckily, Craig spoke first and offered Kenny a cigarette.

Things escalated kind of quickly. Kenny isn’t exactly subtle, and it’s not a big secret that he’s hooked up with quite a few girls from their class. It was a secret, however, that he’d hooked up with quite a few college guys at one of the bars outside of town.

He knew that Craig would be tough to crack, but he knew with a pack of cigarettes and enough suggestive eye contact, it would happen.

The first time they hooked up happened three weeks in. It was the first and last time they’d do it in the alley. Afterwards, Craig pulled up his pants, lit a cigarette and said, “This is just between you and me, right?” Kenny just nodded.

As the weeks went on, something very terrible happened. He’s not quite sure where he went wrong, the feelings crept up on him until they were too strong to ignore. Sometime after that first metallic-tasting kiss, Kenny fell for Craig. Hard.

He wasn’t like the other guys that he had hooked up with. In fact, he wasn’t like anyone he’d ever met. Craig didn’t exactly stand out in school. The two had hung out in elementary school, as did all the guys in their class. But, at some point in middle school, friend groups started becoming cliques, and the two stopped interacting almost altogether. Plus, Craig has always been vocal about hating Stan, Kyle, and Cartman.

But there was something about Craig, besides his dick, that made Kenny keep coming back. At first, he thought Craig was an apathetic asshole who he’d ditch after a few fucks. But when the two of them were together, Kenny got glimpses of the side the dark-haired boy hid away. It started as him checking in when they fucked, constantly making sure that everything was okay with what they were doing, which isn’t something Kenny should’ve found as endearing as he did. As they started meeting more often, Craig would remember little things Kenny told him, asking about video games he mentioned coming out or tests he was stressing over. On the rare occasions Craig would carry the conversation, he’d tell stories about his friends or his sister that had Kenny genuinely laughing and hoping that Craig couldn’t see his heart-eyes. Whatever was between them wasn’t something that he’d ever felt with anyone else, something that he constantly wanted more of.

Yeah, Kenny was in deep.

That was well over a month ago. Now, Kenny sits in the back of Craig’s car, pulling his shirt back on while Craig tugs at the neckline of his.

“Does this show from my collar?” Craig asks, leaning forward so Kenny can properly look at the hickey he’s left on the other’s collarbone. As badly as he wants to mark up the tanned boy for the world to see, he’s always strategic, keeping everything hidden under clothes.

“Have a little faith, Craig,” Kenny replies, rolling his eyes. “Of course it doesn’t show.”

“The guys would fucking tear me a new one if they saw it,” Craig says, not really listening to Kenny. Which, for some fucked-up reason, Kenny still finds hot.

“Because they’d think you were hiding something or because the something is that my entire dick was literally just down your throat?”

Now, Craig is listening, giving Kenny a look that says too far .

Kenny raises his hands defensively. “I’m just fucking with you, man. Literally .”

“Has anyone ever told you how funny you are, Kenny? Seriously, I’m in god damn stitches over here,” Craig replies, very far from being in stitches.

But, two can play at that game. “Oh yeah, all the time. I usually hear I have nice eyes, my dick is so insanely huge and perfect that it has to be sent from God himself, and then that I’m really funny.”

Craig flips him off, meaning he’s conceded from this sarcasm-off that Kenny likes to call “flirting.” Instead of responding, he checks his phone. “It’s almost eight.”

Kenny nods, he knows when Craig is trying to kick him out. “See you,” he says before getting out of the car. His bike is locked up on the other side of the parking lot so the girls won’t see them even remotely close together.

Watching Craig walk towards him is always his favorite part. Walking away from Craig is the absolute worst part. In the short wait from getting out of the car to Karen leaving class, Kenny has all the time he needs to think about how fucking stupid this entire situation is, he’s using me to get off and he probably doesn’t give two shits about me and I’m letting him. I’m fucking letting him!

He stands by his bike, turning back to get one more look at Craig, like another glimpse at that perfect face will remind him why he’s putting himself through all this anyway. But when he looks back, Craig is already watching him, leaning against the side of his car, smoking a cigarette. Craig doesn’t look away so neither does Kenny. It was the sound of class letting out that finally turned their attention away.

Kenny tries his best to act nonchalant when Karen approaches, since she can typically read him like a book.

“What’s wrong, Kenny?” She asks as she reaches him, bending down to look right at his face as he unlocks the bike to avoid just that.

“Nothing, nothing,” he clasps the lock to his belt loop and straightens up, smiling down at his little sister. He always feels better once she’s there. “How was class?”

“Good! Except the teacher was being really mean to this one girl during warm-ups.”

Karen tells him the story on the ride home, where Kenny pedals and she stands on the pegs, holding onto his shoulders. He only thinks about Craig a little bit.

It’s Friday night and Kenny is drunk in Cartman’s basement.

As sad as it sounds, these are usually the best nights of Kenny’s weekends. Going to parties, sneaking into bars, skipping town, those all have their ups and downs, but he’d rather spend his night with three of the biggest assholes in South Park, getting shitfaced and arguing.

“Kyle, what the fuck are you talking about?” Cartman is leaning back in an armchair they rescued from the side of the street a while back, spilling a bit of his beer as he gesticulates.

“I mean first we have to establish the ethics of cloning. Is it really me? All of my memories? Does it know it’s a clone? Will it continue its life until it dies? Or will it be terminated after?” Kyle asks from the couch, perched on the edge. Kyle’s also drunk because all he needs is three spiked seltzers to get there. Luckily, Liane Cartman supplies pretty much whatever they want as long as her son asks for it.

“It doesn’t matter! All that matters is if you would fuck it or not!” Cartman shouts back, rattling the armchair in a concerning manner. Kenny hopes it breaks under him. God, that would be hilarious.

“I dunno, dude. I think it matters,” Stan pipes up. He’s sitting on the couch besides Kyle, though he’s leaning back, nursing a beer like Cartman. “I mean, if it’s the same as me, isn’t it kind of incest?”

Cartman rolls his eyes. “It’s clearly not incest because it’s you . It’s basically jerking off!”

They’ve been having this argument for a good while now. Stan mentioned having a dream where he met himself in the third person, to which Kenny asked if he fucked himself. Cartman said that if he met himself in a dream, he’d have sex with himself, and has now spent the last twenty minutes explaining that it’s not gay and that Stan and Kyle would do it too. Kenny’s stayed out of the discussion, quietly drinking from a flask he brought for himself. While the others have been sipping beer and seltzer, he’s been sipping whiskey, which means that he is pleasantly wasted.

“Kenny’s the one who said it first! That means he doesn’t think it’s gay!” Cartman shouts, pointing everyone’s attention back at Kenny sitting on the floor, leaning back against the couch.

All three pairs of eyes are suddenly on him, reminding Kenny that he’s actually present in the moment and not watching them like a sitcom. “A hole’s a hole,” is his simple response, which is enough for Stan and Kyle, but not for Cartman.

“That doesn’t answer the question, Kinny ,” he says, mispronouncing Kenny’s name the way he always does when he’s pissed off.

This is how Kenny knows his feelings for Craig are more than just his usual horny feelings; Right now, he’s dying to know if Craig would fuck his clone. In any conversation, Kenny just wants to ask Craig about it, crawl deep inside his head and poke around. He lets himself drift off for a moment, thinking about what they’d talk about. Maybe they’d be laying beside each other after hooking up, somewhere that’s not Craig’s backseat and without their little sisters to cut them off.

“Dude, he’s totally fantasizing about fucking his clone,” Stan says, giving Kenny a light kick to his shoulder.

Kenny takes another swig from his flask in response to Stan, returning back to his fantasy while the others continue their debate. And then, because it’s Friday night and he’s drunk in Cartman’s basement, he texts Craig.

Kenny: wld u fuck ur clone

It’s only after he sends the text that Kenny fully understands what he’s just done. They usually text homework answers, empty classrooms to make out in, and maybe the occasional conversation. But a Friday night drunk text? That’s like a whole other level of relationship, and Kenny might’ve just crossed that. Before he has time to regret literally everything he’s ever done, Craig responds.

Craig: No thats stupid

And suddenly, he feels much better.

Craig: Would you?

In fact, he feels elated. It’s the most idiotic conversation subject he can imagine, but it’s something. It’s more than the awkward small talk they made before they just started hooking up, at least.

Kenny: hell yea wh y not

Kenny: i mean u thinnk i m pretty hot right ;)

Craig: I think youre pretty lame

Craig: And Id have to know more about the cloning logistics

Kenny: thatssexactly what kyle said

Craig: Are you getting wasted with those assholes

Kenny: maybs

Craig: I hope thats a typo and you didnt just say “maybs”

Kenny: mmaaaayyyyyybbbbbbbssss

Craig: Im putting my phone down now

Kenny: hhahhahha

Kenny: sooo dram atic

Craig: Yeah thats me Im known for being super dramatic

Kenny: shutt up i kno ur secretly a drama kween

Craig: Whatever go drink some water or something

Kenny: ok mom

Craig didn’t reply anymore after that. Kenny wanted to spam him with messages and memes and emoticons, he’d send a dick pic, he’d send his location, whatever would keep Craig replying. But, it was then that Cartman suggested ordering pizza on his mom’s credit card, and Kenny put his phone down.

They don’t speak again for the rest of the weekend. Why should they? They never talk on weekends, they’re just hooking up when it's convenient. Kenny knows this is just out of convenience and general horniness. When Monday comes around, he waits for Craig in the alley as usual, letting the unlit cigarette dangle from his lips. Craig comes around, except he doesn’t carry himself with the same ease he usually does as he walks over to Kenny.

“‘Sup fucker,” Kenny greets. Real smooth .

“Are you just chewing on a cig right now?” Craig asks once he’s close enough to actually see Kenny’s unlit cigarette.

Kenny pulls it out of his mouth, tucking it behind his ear instead. “No, it just burnt out. Fuck off,” he feels his cheeks heating up. This is definitely not how he wanted his first Craig interaction post-drunk-text to go. And by the look on Craig’s face, he’s not enjoying it either. Actually, when Kenny looks up to really see him, he realizes Craig kind of looks like shit. He knits his brows together. “You kinda look like shit.”

“I have a cold,” Craig replies, shoving his hands in his pockets. He turns away from Kenny, leaning against the brick wall.

“Weird thing to call a hangover,” Kenny quips. Craig does sound more nasally than usual, which is gross, but the tip of his nose is a little pink, which is actually kind of cute.

He even looks cute as he flips Kenny off in response.

“So it is a hangover,” Kenny says, leaning closer to the other.

“Obviously I’m not fucking hungover, Kenny. I’m not in the mood for this, man,” He pulls away, tugging his hat down a bit. “I feel like shit.”

“You want me to kiss it better?” Kenny asks, causing Craig to turn around. But, the expression on his face is not his typical interested smirk, and Kenny feels dread set in.

“Dude, I’m sick. I’m not kissing you.”

Kenny simply shrugs. “I don’t care.”

Craig blinks. “You’ll get sick, I’m not going to get you sick.”

“Alright,” Kenny says, voice a little tight. They’re out of their usual rhythm, which shouldn’t freak him out as much as it is right now. He can save this though. “Then let me blow you, yeah?”

“Kenny,” Craig begins. He hesitates to speak, the words getting caught in his mouth. “I’m not gonna make you blow me because we can’t kiss. I- That’s just weird.”

Kenny takes a step back, his chest feeling tight. “You’re not making me do anything, I just offered. Don’t make it weird, let’s just go to your car.”

“Have a little self-respect, Kenny,” Craig nearly cuts him off, his brow furrowing as he looks down at the other.

Kenny’s stomach begins to twist itself into a knot. He takes a step back, suddenly fixated on the dirt beneath him because he can’t stand the look on Craig’s face, a nauseating mix of disgust and pity.

He sees Craig take a step closer to him, hesitantly reaching a hand out as he tries to speak again. “Shit, I didn’t-”

“Fuck you,” Kenny spits at him, shoving past Craig as he leaves. He can hear Craig call out for him, but he won’t turn around. He can’t turn around, because he knows that if Craig asked for it, he’d forgive him in a heartbeat.

He gets on his bike and pedals like hell. He doesn’t know where he’s going, and he knows that in an hour he has to turn around to get Karen, but there’s no way he’s stopping until then. Kenny knows how people see him, he knows the rumors that go around the school about his body count, teachers and parents he’d slept with, the things that he’s done in exchange for it. Most of that isn’t even true, but he’s never cared about it. People think he’s hot and gets laid, why would that be a problem?

But Craig isn’t “people.” Craig holds the back of Kenny’s neck every time they kiss. Craig sends him study guides for class without even being asked to. Shit , Craig is the only guy he’s actually wanted to be with beyond hooking up. And now he’s fucked everything up, acting like the fuckboy he didn’t want Craig to see him as.

Kenny stops his bike dead in the street, glancing around. He’s just a little bit out of town, enough for there to only be trees and mountains in front of him and a few distant houses behind. He doesn’t want to turn around. Maybe he can just never see Craig again and forget all about maybe being in love with him. He’ll shave his head and skip town, or maybe just hermit himself in the woods.

But, he has to pick Karen up.

He’s late, partially because he got pretty far, partially because he wants to make sure there’s no chance of running into Craig. Karen asks him what happened and he mumbles out some bullshit apology. Luckily, she’s happy to complain about her teacher again. He thinks about Craig the entire ride home.

Tuesday is weird. It’s probably weird because he went to bed after smoking three bowls while trying to do his math homework. He was desperate for a distraction. At lunch, he stares down at the table, pulling down on the strings of his hoodie while the others chat around him. Kenny used to hate that he and Craig didn’t have lunch together, instead they texted while the other ignored his history class. Sometimes, Craig would pretend to use the bathroom and instead meet Kenny in the janitor’s closet. It was a little gross, but the best they could do when they only had a few minutes.

“Earth to Kenny,” he says, kicking the other’s leg under the table.

“Hm?” Kenny glances up from the table, voice muffled by his hoodie pulled tight around his face.

“You okay?” The redhead not-so-subtly slides half of his sandwich across the table, offering it.

The exchange grabs Cartman’s attention, who glances between the two. “Kenny’s stoned, Kahl, just look at him.”

Kenny rubs at his eyes. He’s not in the mood for this.

“Shut up, fatass, no one asked you,” Kyle snaps back, before turning to Kenny. “Wait, are you stoned?”

The question makes Stan look up from his phone, and now Kenny has three sets of eyes on him when he wants none. He takes the easy way out and nods, prompting enthusiastic responses from Cartman and Stan. Kyle isn’t too happy with the answer, so Kenny takes the sandwich just to appease him.

He leaves lunch early and goes for a walk in the woods. His next class, last of the day, is chemistry with Craig. Kenny hopes that he notices his absence.

Wednesday is a little better. He actually does go to class high. Instead of being weirdly fuzzy from the night before, he is pleasantly buzzed and able to focus on scribbling in his notebook or listening to the ticking of the clock. He takes half of Kyle’s sandwich at lunch and contributes at least two sentences at lunch so the guys don’t get suspicious of him.

Then there’s the problem of ballet class.

He drops Karen off, of course. He’s not going to be a bad brother just because the guy he’s maybe in love with thinks he’s some loser slut or whatever. He locks up his bike and sits on the curb beside it, the alley just in his peripheral.

He squeezes a little when Craig’s car pulls up. Tricia gets out and Kenny forces his eyes down, only letting himself look up when the car is driving away, parking all the way across the lot. Their usual spot.

Kenny half expects Craig to get out, head to the alley and wait for him. He half expects himself to get up and head there too, his body moving entirely of its own volition. But, instead, nothing happens.

He lights a cigarette and each drag tastes like Craig.

By the time 8:00 rolls around neither of them have moved. This time, Karen doesn’t even bother asking what’s wrong.

Kyle stops him after lunch the next day. He knew it was coming, he could feel those green eyes on him all week. Of course, the only time when his friends aren’t shitty is just when he needs them to be. When the bell rings, Kenny doesn’t even have the time to grab his backpack before Kyle makes his move.

“Kenny, can I talk to you for a sec?” Kyle asks, coming to stand in front of him at an astonishing speed.

“Don’t you have class?” Kenny retorts, glancing around as everyone else heads out of the lunchroom.

“Study hall,” Kyle replies, heading to the double doors on the opposite side of the lunchroom. Shit , he wants to go outside, which means this is definitely a real conversation. “Come on.”

Reluctantly, he follows behind.

“Fuck, it’s freezing,” he mumbles as they step outside, pulling his hood up. “Cuddle me for warmth, man, I’m dying.”

Kyle tugs down on his ushanka, finally turning to face Kenny. He looks just like his mom for a moment, because Sheila looks at Kenny with the exact same look of concern every time he sees her. “Kenny,” Kyle begins, his mouth pinching up while he searches for the right words. “Is something up?”

“No,” Kenny answers a little too quickly. He opens his mouth, trying to think of some excuse, but decides to just close it again. Maybe Kyle will get that he doesn’t want to talk about it and drop the whole thing.

But, then again, it’s Kyle Broflovski.

“Bullshit, dude. You’ve been moping around for like three days, and I know you keep cutting class after lunch. I have to deal with those idiots by myself,” the ginger says, waving his hands around in the way he always does when he gets all fussy. Kenny thinks it's hilarious, but this probably isn’t the time to point that out. “And Stan told me to forget about it because you’re just stoned, but I thought,” he pauses, quieting himself down. “I thought you were trying not to do that so much.”

Kenny bites the inside of his cheek. The two of them had this conversation after Kenny got busted smoking under the bleachers last year. Despite his misgivings, Kenny was not the type to break promises.

“I’m not some health class teacher, Kenny, I know getting high is fun. But it’s senior year and we’re literally almost done with this semester and then you can go wild but college applications are coming up so things really matter-”

“Kyle!” Kenny nearly yells, putting his hands on the other’s shoulders. “Dude, I’m not stoned.”

Kyle’s brow furrows. “You’re not?” He asks after a moment, his voice almost cracking.

“No.” He stops, thinking for a second. “I mean, I was yesterday, but it’s not like that.”

“Then what’s it like?”

Kenny shoves his hands back into his pockets, leaning against the wall. He takes a deep breath. If he’s gonna tell any of his friends about it, at least it’s Kyle who has more emotional maturity than the rest of them. Well, a little bit more. “I was hooking up with someone and I kinda, fuck,” he looks up at the overcast sky. “I actually like them. Because I’m an idiot. And then it got weird and I think they just see me as a hook-up and I got really mad and it’s all fucked up.”

He looks over at Kyle who still has that confused expression on his face. For once, he doesn’t look like he has something to say.

Kenny continues. “It sucks ‘cause now I gotta find someone else to suck me off but not everyone has the jaw flexibility to take this big boy-”

“Shut the fuck up, Kenny,” Kyle cuts him off, clearly not appreciating the joke. “That sucks, dude. I’m sorry.”

Kenny straightens up a bit, shrugging. “It’s whatever, it’s fine.”

“But if you actually like her,” Kyle starts, because of course he’s going to propose a plan of action. “You can’t just give up. I get that you’re gross and horny like ninety percent of the time-”

“One hundred,” Kenny interjects.

“Fuck off. I’ve just never seen you actually like someone. Plus, if you just think she sees you as a fuckbuddy, that doesn’t mean you know that. You can’t just assume how other people feel, Kenny. Maybe if you guys actually talked she’d give you a real chance, see that, even though you’re an idiot, you’re pretty cool.” Though his own eyes are fixated on the ground, he knows Kyle’s looking at him earnestly as he speaks, which makes Kenny really want to believe him.

He runs a hand through his hair, trying to exhale out the tension in his chest. “You really think so?”

Kyle rolls his eyes, though there’s a hint of a smile on his lips. “That you’re an idiot? Yeah. But also, I know any girl would want to be with you if she actually knew you. And if she doesn’t, then fuck her. Girls are lame, anyway.”

Kenny can’t help but snort, but not for the reasons Kyle thinks. “Yeah, they’re totally fucking lame.”

hey, sorry 4 running off and then avoiding u all week. im in love w u. say it back or i will lose my fucking mind

Kenny stares at his phone, frowning. This is probably his fifth draft text, and each one is worst than the last. He tries again.

i know u think im a total loser and i should hate u for it but i actually just want to hold your hand so badly. wanna link?

He groans, rolling over to lay down on his stomach, letting his face sink into his bed. He was supposed to meet up with Stan thirty minutes ago for Friday beers. But, he knows that once Kyle texts that he’s done with Shabbat dinner, Stan will suggest going over to his house for leftovers and video games as usual, and Kenny doesn’t want to face Kyle while he’s still ignoring his advice.

It’ll just take a text, he knows that. If Craig doesn’t want to give him a chance, then he can just avoid him until he gets over him, or for the rest of eternity. If Craig does give him a chance, though, Kenny has absolutely no plan as he doesn’t think he’ll get that far. All he wants is to get rid of these stupid feelings that he has. Then, he can go back to thinking about how much he hates school and what gas stations he can vandalize rather than what Craig’s doing and what songs he’d put on a playlist for him.

Fuck , he’s thinking about him again.

There’s a soft knock at his door that he recognizes instantly, bringing him out of his thought spiral. “Yeah, Karen?”

His little sister opens the door, staying in the doorway of his room. “Will you drive me to my friend’s house? Mom was supposed to but she’s asleep.”

Kenny sits up, rubbing at his face. Of course, it’s not even seven on a Friday and his mom is already passed out on the couch. “Sure, you ready now?

Karen nods, turning so he can see that her backpack is already on. She holds out her hand with the family car keys dangling from it. Smart kid. Though Kenny does not technically have a driver’s license, he’s been swiping his parent’s keys to run errands since before most of his friends even got behind a wheel. Not like the cops in town give a shit about a kid like him anyway, as long as he doesn’t crash or anything.

Kenny stands, taking the keys from her and grabbing his parka. Karen follows behind him quietly as they leave the house.

“Think it’ll snow tonight? It’s pretty cold,” Kenny says as he gets into the car.

“Maybe,” Karen replies, resting her backpack in her lap.

He pulls out of the driveway. “Where to?”

“Tricia from ballet class,” Karen says. His breath hitches. “I know you and her brother aren’t really friends anymore-”

“Did Tricia tell you that?” He interrupts.

“-But her parents are going out tonight and they said I could sleep over even though they won’t be there and I really wanna go,” she finishes, hugging her backpack to her chest. “Can you still drive me?”

Kenny nods, thinking of all the drafted texts in his phone. “Yeah, of course, Karen,” he says.

The smile on her face makes him feel a bit better, and he tries to focus on that during the car ride over rather than what the fuck he’s going to do.

Maybe Craig would find it romantic if Kenny just showed up at his door. Sure, he’d also be bringing his little sister. And he’d be completely unannounced after avoiding him all week. Craig probably has plans tonight, he might not even have time to talk. Or, he just doesn’t want to, and Kenny’s setting himself up for a face-to-face rejection rather than a simple text one.

He gets so caught up in his own thoughts that Karen has to tell him when to stop, as he nearly passes the Tucker household.

Karen turns to her brother as he parks the car in their driveway. “Do you wanna come say hi?” She asks.

“Nah, I don’t think he wants to see me,” Kenny replies, trying to keep his voice light.

She frowns a little, but before she can say anything else, there’s shouting from just outside the car. Tricia Tucker is standing in her doorway, yelling to her friend and gesturing for her to come inside. Karen giggles, waving to Kenny as she opens the car door. Just as Kenny is about to say goodbye, he sees Craig step into the doorway, the two locking eyes.

Kenny feels his heart jump into his throat, but he can’t look away. He’s not ready to talk yet, he has no idea how he can explain himself or if he even wants to. He’s completely frozen in his seat. He can see Karen looking over at him as she crosses the front yard and heads inside with Tricia, but neither of the boys move. They just look at each other,

Then, Craig simply nods his head back, a gesture Kenny knows well: come on . Before he can even realize what he’s doing, he’s already turned the car off.

Kenny’s feet drag as he approaches the doorway.

Craig is standing there, arms folded across his chest. The look on his face is unreadable, something that makes Kenny uneasy.

“You have your license?” Craig breaks the silence, looking over at the car.

“Does it matter?” Kenny asks, looking Craig up and down. He’s in flannel pajama pants, which, like most things the other does, Kenny finds weirdly attractive.

Craig shrugs, stepping back. “You wanna come in?”

Kenny nods wordlessly, stepping inside the house as Craig turns to head up the stairs. On the couch, Tricia and Karen are laughing about something, barely sparing their older brothers a glance. Kenny can’t help but smile as he looks at them. The Tucker household is painfully normal, normal couch without stains and rips, normal walls without peeling paint, topped off by perfectly normal family photos hanging around them.

He decides then, looking down at Karen from the stairs, that he won’t let whatever shit happens between him and Craig get in the way of her experiencing this, getting to see what a normal family looks like.

Which means he has to resolve this now.

Shit.

Craig steps into his bedroom, leaving the door open for Kenny. He remembers going over to Craig’s once or twice when they were in elementary school, back when all the boys in their class would hang out, but he had never gone further than the backyard or living room.

His bedroom is nothing like Kenny thought it would be (on the few occasions he daydreamed about hanging out with Craig like this). The walls are a garish shade of blue, covered up by a multitude of posters. As Kenny steps inside, he can’t help but get a closer look at them, seeing the typical Terrance and Phillip, but also Red Rover, lots of NASA and planetary diagrams, and some for movies he’s never heard about. He didn’t expect Craig to be so… decorative. The best part, however, are the little glow-in-the-dark constellations plastered everywhere.

Kenny notices one little star on the brink of falling off. Just as he reaches to press it back into place, Craig speaks.

“I haven’t really redecorated ever, so whatever shit you’re going to say, I’ve already heard.” He’s sitting on his bed, idly fidgeting the edge of his comforter. Kenny knows the look on his face now, he’s embarrassed. It’s cute, almost annoyingly so, because that’s going to make this conversation even harder.

Kenny just wants to live in this moment for a while, where he can look through all of Craig’s posters and books and shelves and pretend it's not weird that he’s only now seeing the bedroom of the guy he’s been sleeping with for two months.

“I was just gonna say there’s not enough babes on your wall,” Kenny says, turning back to press the loose star into place. Across the room, there’s a small squeaky noise. “Dude, your hamster is still alive? I remember seeing him at show-n-tell in, like, second grade.”

“Not a question you want the answer to,” Craig says, watching as Kenny walks around his room, gaze still fixed on the walls. “Dude, you can sit.”

Kenny pauses. Right , this isn’t the normal hangout he desperately wants it to be. He pulls off his parka, drops it on the floor, and awkwardly sits cross-legged on the bed opposite Craig, making sure to keep his distance. Craig looks oddly annoyed at this, which prompts Kenny to try and not sit awkwardly, which looks even worse.

Craig lets out a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Shit, Kenny, you don’t have to be here if you don’t want to be. I’m not trying to, fuck , I don’t know. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable or-”

“I do want to be here,” Kenny interrupts, leaning forward a bit. Craig looks back up at him, looking a bit mollified by this. “I, uh. I was gonna text you.”

“Me too,” Craig says, which makes Kenny feel like he can actually breathe since he came into the house.

“Cool,” he says, wincing internally at how lame that sounds. The two take turns glancing at each other and looking away, neither of them knowing quite how to start.

Craig takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry,” he says, and Kenny’s eyes widen. “I was just being a dick on Monday, I didn’t want to piss you off. And I don’t know if it’s because of me, but you haven’t been in class all week, so I’m sorry if I made you feel like you had to avoid me.”

Kenny straightens up a bit, brows knitting together as he tries to figure out exactly why he feels so heated right now. “That’s your apology?”

He sees Craig’s breath catch in his chest. “What?”

“Are you sorry because of what you said or because you upset me?” He asks slowly, meticulously choosing his words.

Craig stammers for a moment. “I don’t- Kenny, I’m just sorry. I didn’t mean to make you mad.”

“But do you get why I’m mad?” Kenny asks, his tone practically pleading. He doesn’t want an apology, he doesn’t need one to forgive him. He just wants to know that Craig didn’t actually mean what he said, that Craig understands him.

But, when he looks back at Craig’s face, he doesn’t see any understanding. He just looks frustrated.

Kenny stands up, almost reaching to grab his parka. But then, he thinks of Karen downstairs, enjoying her sleepover with her new friend. He has to fix this, if not for himself, for her.

“Can you just talk to me?” Craig asks, now sitting on the edge of the bed, ready to get up. Kenny looks back at him, then sits down, gaze pointed at the ground.

“I know what everyone says about me. It’s all just bullshit rumors,” he starts, feeling Craig shift beside him to look at his face. “I’ve never fucked a teacher. I haven’t fucked like most of the girls people think I have, I just think their friends lie about that to be mean. Yeah, I’ve hooked up with a few girls. And also some dudes. And Butters’ mom, but that was once,” he pauses. “Shit, this isn’t helping.”

“I’m listening,” Craig says reassuringly.

“Yeah,” Kenny breathes out, then continues. “I’m not some fucking virgin, but I’m also not this crazy nympho that everyone thinks I am. I just like to fuck, maybe more than the average person, and that’s not something I’m ashamed of. But I don’t care if people have the wrong idea, because caring what people in South Park think is a waste of fucking time.”

He hears a low hum of agreement from Craig.

“But I care about what you think,” Kenny says, and before he can overthink what he’s about to do, he lets himself continue talking. “I wasn’t just hooking up with you because you’re hot. Well, that’s what it was at first, but now I have this problem where I care about what you think of me and I want to be around you even if we’re not fucking. God, I even started smoking cigs just because they taste like you. So, when you told me that I didn’t have self-respect, and you looked at me like that , I realized that you saw me how everyone else did.”

Kenny’s throat feels raw, and all he can hear is Craig’s breathing beside him.

“So, yeah, I was avoiding you. I just never wanted to see that look on your face again. Which was stupid of me, I shouldn’t have avoided you,” he clenches his fists in his lap. “I know I fucked this all up.”

In the silence that follows, Kenny feels something shift back into place. After weeks and weeks of agonizing over what Craig thought of him or how he was going to finally tell him, everything is off his chest. He feels lighter.

Kenny isn’t sure how long they sit there for. He’s only brought back into the moment when Craig gingerly takes his hand, coaxing Kenny to unclench his fist and intertwine their fingers.

“I’m sorry, Kenny” Craig says, the words feeling so much heavier than they did before. “I’m actually sorry. I didn’t say that shit because I look down on you or whatever. I said it because I don’t want you to look down on yourself like that. Do you- Does that make sense?”

Before Kenny can even reply, he’s continuing.

“I never wanted to make you feel like I was only hanging out with you so we could fuck. Which, I guess I kind of did the opposite of because I’m a dumbass. But, I think I-” he pauses, squeezing Kenny’s hand. “I care a lot about you too, and I’m not really used to caring about shit. Not having you around this week sucked, Kenny. I couldn’t get you out of my head.”

Kenny finally turns to him fully, and the look on Craig’s face makes him want to crumble. He looks scared and nervous and ridiculously sweet.

“You started smoking because of me?” Craig asks.

“I wanted you to think I was cool,” Kenny replies shyly, because they’re being honest now.

“I don’t even smoke, Kenny, I bought that pack because I wanted an excuse to talk to you. I thought that you smoked.”

Kenny just stares at Craig for a moment, then begins to laugh. Craig follows suit, palming himself in the face as they both fall into a fit.

“That’s the stupidest fucking thing I’ve ever heard,” Kenny says when he catches his breath. Craig just nods, a soft smile remaining on his face. “So, do you want to hang out and, like, not have sex?”

Craig snorts. “Do I want to try dating you? Yeah, Kenny, I do.”

“Don’t laugh at me,” he says, leaning forward until his head rests against Craig’s shoulder. “I’m not used to this, okay?”

Craig continues holding his hand, wrapping his free arm around Kenny to rub his shoulder in an incredibly comforting way. “That’s okay. We’re already doing this shit out of order.”

Kenny squeezes his hand, and the two fall back against the bed. They take a second to adjust, figuring out how they fit together not cramped in the back of a car. Kenny ends up with Craig wrapped around him, the other’s lips pressing into the top of his head. Despite their height difference, the way their legs tangle, how his arm is pinned uncomfortably under Craig, the two of them together like this feels so right .

“You wanna stay over tonight?” Craig asks, fingers curling around the hair at the nape of Kenny’s neck. “We can watch a movie or something.”

“Wow, a double McCormick-Tucker sleepover, how middle school of us,” Kenny quips.

Craig groans. “Fuck, they’re gonna have a field day with this. Tricia has been so annoying asking me about you, it was non-stop this week.”

Kenny tilts his head up, pressing a kiss along the other’s jawline.

“What was that for?” Craig asks, smiling down at him.

“You were being cute,” Kenny says, nuzzling back against his chest. “Can I say that now? Can I tell you how cute you are?”

Craig lets out a little embarrassed noise. “Yeah,” he says softly. Then he adds, “Yeah, you can. But only if I get to tell you how gorgeous you are.”

Kenny moves away, propping himself up on his elbow as he looks down at Craig. “Gorgeous?” He repeats, feeling his cheeks heat up.

Craig just looks up at him fondly. “Like right now,” he says, reaching up to touch Kenny’s face, but he pulls his hand back self-consciously. “Is that too much?”

Kenny can’t shake his head fast enough. “No, not at all,” he says, lying back down beside the other. They’re face to face now, just inches apart. “No one’s ever really said that to me before. I told you, I’m not used to this kind of stuff.”

“It’s okay,” Craig says, giving Kenny a reassuring smile. Their hands find their way to each other again and they fall back into place. “So, do you wanna stay over? It’s okay if you think that’s too fast or something.”

Kenny rolls his eyes. “I’ve literally been inside you.”

Craig laughs again, rolling onto his back. Kenny scoots closer, resting his head on the other’s chest. He wants to lay like this forever, finding new ways to tangle themselves up while they talk. He wants to see what makes Craig blush, what every poster in his room means, why he avoided the Stripe question, if he knows that he’s the most beautiful person Kenny has ever seen.

“Hey, look,” Kenny says, nodding his head towards the window. Just outside, fat white flakes have started to fall. “First snow of the season.”

Craig presses a kiss into the top of his head. “Yeah, look at that.”

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