Nonsense About Romance
Chapter 10: Some More Side Shit—Er, Brown
written by domolovesyou - illustrated by Noxicosis and SynnesaiThe sad thing was that Cartman had been planning to stay after school today because he thought that there was going to be a newspaper meeting. Of course, what Kenny had said about watching TV and eating Cheesy Poofs was completely appealing to him and was what he would have done all those other days when he didn’t have a meeting. But Cartman was actually finding himself looking forward to staying after school... which was gross. What was he, some kind of girl?
“Eugh,” he said to himself as he stepped into the classroom. Wendy was already there, as expected: she was always here earlier than him. Even though he was pretty good with going to all of the meetings, she was the one who actually liked about the newspaper, actually had dedication. Cartman didn’t really give a shit about it since though he cared about journalism, Wendy sort of outdid him when it came to being passionate and being good at it.
Not that he’d ever admit that Wendy was better than him in anything.
“I didn’t know that you were so excited to come,” she said dryly, glancing up from her editing work. When Cartman looked at her, he couldn’t help notice the way her white long-sleeved shirt showed off all her curves.
“It’s not like I ever chose to stay with you, ho,” he said.
Wendy looked like she was going to say something again, like she had at lunch, but apparently chose not to and went back to her work. Cartman went over to one of the computers so he could play one of his flash games. Like he said before, he wasn’t going to do the others’ work for them.
But staying in this room alone with Wendy made him nervous, as it always did, which was why he usually was more irritable when they were like this. Especially when they were quiet. Cartman was itching to make conversation with her: it was one of his favorite things to do, even if they were arguing. Especially if they were arguing.
“Any new things goin’ on in your life, ho?” he asked lightly.
Wendy scoffed. “Nothing that I’m going to tell you.”
Cartman scowled to himself; what was wrong with talking to him? “You’re such a bitch, you know that?”
“Yeah, I do,” said Wendy, flipping a page and going to work on the next. Then she looked up at Cartman. “What about you? Anything new in your life?”
Cartman was about to tell her no and/or say that there was nothing that he was going to tell her, but then the Stan-and-Kyle-fag-thing flitted through his mind and he decided that that was a better answer. Well, what better way to get a girl’s heart than to tell her that her ex-boyfriend turned out to be gay? Then he could offer a shoulder to cry on, and then tell her that Stan didn’t deserve her, that he would be better... Though Cartman wouldn’t say it in those words, exactly. Besides, evidently the CD album thing failed, and Cartman had told that sales lady that he was a pregnant Mexican woman with four limbs chopped off and a donated kidney, and she still wouldn’t reduce the price of that goddamned necklace from $3,000!
He nearly seethed at thinking about it.
“Cartman?” Wendy asked concernedly, when he didn’t answer.
“Oh,” said Cartman, pushing his thoughts aside and turning to her. “Remember that fag boyfriend you used to have back in like, sixth grade?”
Wendy frowned, as if she couldn’t remember. Then her face lit up. “Oh, Stan?”
“Yeah,” said Cartman, and then snorted. “Turns out he really is a fag. With that Jew Kyle, too. Can you believe it?”
He expected Wendy to exclaim something like, “What? Are you serious?” or even break down crying and sobbing because the guy she used to date was gay. But instead Wendy just looked thoughtful.
“Really?” she said. “Well, I can’t say I’m surprised.”
Cartman resisted the urge to scream, “Goddammit, you’re supposed to be crying, bitch!” but managed to suppress it, because he was sure that if he wanted to win Wendy over, that wasn’t exactly the best way to go about it. “Uh, yeah,” he said, because he didn’t know what else to say.
“So you say they’re together?”
“Nah. They’re too up in their asses with fag love to realize it.”
Wendy brightened up at that. “Ooh, then we should get them together!” she said eagerly. “If they like each other but don’t know, that sounds like the cutest thing ever! Especially since it’s two guys. How do you know that they like each other, Cartman?” she asked interestedly, not sounding suspicious at all.
“‘Cause Stan told me,” said Cartman, rolling his eyes. “And then Kenny told me that the Jew likes him back. Kenny wants him to tell Stan, but apparently Kyle’s too much of a pussy to say anything...”
“No, he shouldn’t tell Stan!” said Wendy.
“I know, right? That’s what I said, that we should just keep it a secret from them that they have gay crushes on each other and go along our merry ways because fuck if I don’t want those guys to act all gay and shit around me—”
“No, no,” said Wendy quickly. “I don’t want him to tell Stan yet. But I don’t think we should tell them either. I think that we should get them to confess their love for each other in the most perfect, romantic and flawless plan ever.”
Cartman stared at Wendy. “What the fuck are you going on about?”
“Doesn’t it sound fun?” She was beaming now, and though the circumstances were for the dumbest-ass reasons ever, Cartman couldn’t deny that she looked even prettier. “If we got them together? I’ve never played matchmaker before... “
And Cartman never wanted to play matchmaker, especially for those assholes he called friends. But he mumbled, “Sure,” and continued listening while Wendy rattled off a plan that was with no doubt forming in her mind.
But he did notice that she said “we” every time she said what would be done to get Stan and Kyle together.
Maybe, he thought, it wasn’t going to be so bad.
Cartman was staying after school today, Stan and Kyle had a sleepover they didn’t have the tact to invite him to, but Kenny didn’t feel so alone because today at lunch, after he and Butters had left fatso with Wendy, he asked Butters, “Wanna come over again today?”
And Butters said, “Gee Kenny! I’d love to!”
Kenny was happy that he did, though it seemed kind of extreme that Butters would “love” to go to his house. “You don’t think it’s gross?” he asked him.
“W-Well I can’t say it’s the cleanest place ever an’ all, but... it has its character! And I like spending time with you,” said Butters, before blushing.
This made Kenny happier, and strangely, horny. Okay, maybe it wasn’t strange because he could get horny from just about anything. But seeing Butters’s pink face just... did things to his insides. “You’re always so optimistic, aren’t you,” he said absentmindedly, putting his elbow on the table and pinching one of Butters’s cheeks.
Butters blushed even more; Kenny could feel his skin heat up from beneath his fingers. “Well, you’d be happier if you’re optimistic!” Butters said. “A-At least, that’s what I’ve always thought,” he added bashfully, as if afraid that he’d just offended Kenny, if Kenny were a pessimist.
Kenny wasn’t, though—his life’s philosophy was just to take things and go with them. So he did just that and said, “I think your optimism is cute,” and Butters reminded him, “You’re gonna get grounded for saying that again.”
Goddamn, why was Butters so cute?
Butters didn’t have dance practice today, so the two of them just walked to Kenny’s house right after school. Kenny would have preferred the comfort of Butters’s, but he felt that his house was safer in the sense that their privacy wouldn’t be invaded, because Mr. and Mrs. Stotch usually made him feel nervous like he had done something wrong. Which he hadn’t, but he felt it was best to steer clear of them. There was always the possibility that they would ground Butters from seeing him, and Kenny certainly didn’t want that.
Kenny tried to tame the feelings that had come during lunch time, but found that he couldn’t—he hadn’t jacked off in a long time. The pornos had been in their box for nearly a week now. He was feeling sexually frustrated, and it was worse when he was in his room, because this is where he actually did his thing.
“What’s wrong, Kenny?” Butters seemed to notice his stagnant silence.
Kenny did his best to put on a carefree smile and turned to him. “Oh, it’s nothing.” He couldn’t jump Butters now. Butters was too innocent—well okay, he’d probably be innocent forever—and though Kenny’s original intention had been to corrupt him (positively), he’d feel guilty if he even tried anything now.
Butters didn’t seem to buy it. “I know it’s not nothin’ all right,” he said, marching up to Kenny and meeting his eyes. Though when he did this, he suddenly got embarrassed and dropped his gaze. “I just know when somethin’s wrong with somebody,” he said, staring at the dirty floor. “And you may say it’s nothin’, but I know—I know something’s wrong with you and something’s botherin’ you in that heart of yours, Kenny, and I—”
It was the way he was talking to him so honestly that Kenny just loosened up his hood, stepped forward to close the tiny gap that was between them, took Butters’s chin in his hand, and raised his face up. He was about to make the decision when he saw that Butters was staring cutely at him, and his pink lips were puckered out expectantly, even though his eyes were as round as saucers.
“What?” Kenny teased to him, breath dancing along his face. “You expecting a kiss from me or something?”
-Noxicosis-
Butters opened his mouth—Kenny couldn’t tell if he was about to say yes or no—but he didn’t inquire any further because at that moment, he did, indeed, kiss him.
It was quite the experience because everyone Kenny had kissed (and fucked) before had at least kissed/been fucked by someone else before. Butters obviously hadn’t (though Kenny wasn’t planning on fucking him... right now); he made tiny little noises when Kenny’s expert lips worked on his, tracing, shaping out Butters’s small soft lips, and he tasted like something sweet which would have grossed Kenny out if it were any other person, but this was Butters so it seemed to make sense.
Butters pressed back, hesitantly, as if he couldn’t believe that Kenny was kissing him—but in a good way. Kenny had never thought of Butters liking him before, and wondered if he should have. He thought that it would have been just natural, that he’d continue acting more and more intimate with Butters until something like this happened, and then they’d be like exclusive fuck buddies or something. A little jolt of guilt went through his body that he’d never considered Butters’s feelings before—but right now he didn’t think it mattered because Butters was actually kissing him back. And as Kenny pried his lips open with his tongue, he’d be damned if it didn’t seem like Butters was enjoying it.
Butters let out a tiny little squeak when Kenny’s wet tongue rubbed against the inside of his mouth for the first time. It felt weird and different, but extremely good and almost instinctively Butters’s hands went to Kenny’s hood, which was still up though loose enough that Kenny’s mouth could still kiss him. He pulled it down to fasten his arms better around Kenny’s neck, and very faintly felt Kenny’s hands rest gently on his waist. Kenny was holding him so well that it was like he was used to it, but Butters didn’t mind—he didn’t know what he was doing, and it was nice that Kenny did.
Suddenly he felt his throat hitch and realized that his lungs were all pent up too. Butters broke away gasping, quite sure that he was either red in the face from the kissing, or blue in the face from not breathing.
Kenny looked dazed and confused at first, as if he couldn’t believe what had just happened. But when he caught sight of Butters, a smile crept onto his face.
“You’re supposed to breathe through your nose,” he informed him.
Butters felt himself go redder as he tried to catch his breath. “O-Oh,” he said. And then quite delayed, he said, “Y-You kissed me!”
“Yeah,” said Kenny, looking up in thought. “I did.” Then he looked back to Butters. “You... didn’t mind, right?”
“No—No, of course I didn’t mind!” said Butters. “I really liked it, even though—well.” He rubbed his knuckles together.
“That wasn’t your first kiss, right?”
“Of course not!” said Butters defensively. “I had my first kiss back in elementary school! Remember? She was my bottom bitch!”
“Oh right, yeah,” said Kenny. “You were a pimp. I forgot about that.” He paused in contemplation. “But that was your first kiss with a guy, wasn’t it?”
“Well—” started Butters, then he broke off and looked at the ground nervously. “Yeah,” he mumbled.
“Then I’m glad to have stolen your man-kiss virginity from you,” said Kenny. Suddenly he wasn’t feeling horny anymore, or aroused: all he knew was that he just wanted to keep kissing Butters. Forever. “Come on, let’s make out again.”
“What?” said Butters, wide-eyed. “We were makin’ out?”
Kenny laughed. “Of course we were.”
“But... But my parents say I’m not allowed to make out with anyone till I’m—till I’m in college! I’m gonna get grounded!”
“Well,” said Kenny, taking Butters’s slender wrist and bringing him closer. “We don’t have to tell your parents everything we do, do we?”