White Moon

A fanfic from the slightly disturbed mind of the Californian who hates California.

Part II: What I Cannot Afford is a Ghost

Forgetting is easier for some people than it is for others. It depends almost entirely on the relationship between the person and the subject he wishes to disregard. The stronger the bond, the stronger the memory- the more severe, the pain.

How is it that things can be easily handed to a person-the perfect life- the best of opportunities- but he still turns the opposite way? Even after a year of being in an intimate relationship with Stan Marsh, Kenny still found himself drawn towards that addiction he had fought against for the longest- Kyle. Maybe he just liked guys like that. The one's that played "hard to get" rather than the eager to please type that Stan was.

But Kyle wasn't playing any game of any sort. He was simply blind when it came to love. He had his doubts. He had his curiosities. He wondered what Kenny was thinking when he caught the boy so often staring at him while Stan cuddled with the blonde in his loving embrace. But he never intended to be leading anyone anywhere. He wasn't some tease. He was just a kid, trying to make it through high school, getting those grades that would get him to a good school, where he could graduate from, become a lawyer, marry a pretty girl, raise a family, and just have that normal, average guy, life.

Was that too much to ask for?

---

"I love you," Stan would say.

And Kenny looked at him. He always wore a look of surprise. He seemed to express a disbelief. Nobody could love him. He'd then clear his throat, throw on a weak, and obviously fake smile, and answer: "…I know. …I love you too."

When Stan kissed Kenny, it was always Stan who had to start it. Stan had to be the first to begin the intimate moments. It took Kenny a while, but with much persistency from Stan, the boy was able to return the love.

Stan's ways seemed to grow surprising violent when Kenny refused to continue against Stan's will. It shocked Kenny the first time, that a boy as quiet and innocent as Stan, would be so forceful.

They were alone in Stan's room. Kenny still lived with the Marsh family; although they never made Stan's parents aware to the fact that they were in a relationship, the suspicion was strong, and the boy's actions had to be contemplated.

Kenny had slipped underneath the covers of Stan's bed, after the raven haired boy had pleaded that he was scared of the thunderstorm outside. Stan moved closer to Kenny instantly and kissed him hard.

Kenny played along for a while. He allowed his boyfriend to plant kiss after kiss on his lips, returning a few, but then stopping. Not getting the attention he was giving, seemed to anger Stan, and the boy climbed on top of him, pressing his lips fiercely against Kenny's.

"Stan," Kenny tried to talk with Stan's lips forcefully on his, "I'm tired…. Let's just-" He felt his head jolt as Stan grasped it tightly-almost painfully.

Kenny watched in a nearly frozen state as Stan removed his shirt and then Kenny's. He thrust his body against Kenny's, quietly mentioning his name in passionate whispers.

The desperate attempts were only disturbing to Kenny. "Stan… just… stop."

Stan kissed him again. As he slid his tongue into his mouth, he began to pull down Kenny's pants, and then his own.

As Stan's face nuzzled against his, Kenny felt Stan digging his body deeper and deeper into his own. He could also feel tears on Stan's face, confusing Kenny all the more. "Please," Stan begged. "I love you."

Kenny had had enough. He was not enjoying the moment in the least. He tried to shove Stan away, but the boy held on. It was a war that Stan was determined to win. It took Kenny four more attempts to get away before he gave up, turned Stan over, and gave him what he wanted.

And that was the way of their love life. Stan had to act like a stubborn child, demanding for something he wanted until the tired Kenny would give in. It wasn't something he liked, but what else could he do? Kenny overpowered him in that way. He just couldn't stand it. He wanted Kenny more than anything. He had him. He wouldn't let him go, no matter how horrible the reality of the situation was.

Kenny felt all the more distraught in such a relationship. But he liked part of it. He liked having that fully devoted love from someone. He wished he could return it. He tried to return it. But every time he tried to open his heart, the only feelings that would emerge, were for another.

He was completely helpless.

---

It was just an ordinary, cold, winter morning. Maybe that was what triggered it? Just that horribly average, "here we go again" aura that filled the air at sunrise. The unpromising winds that blew through his window served as a chilly reminder that this was it… this was his life… and how terribly bland it was. Life no longer was attractive; it carried no additional benefits for Kyle Broflovski. Why was he here? What was the point?

And then, as if on cue, was that familiar blonde at his window.

"What're you doing here?" Kyle questioned as he opened his window.

Kenny blinked at him. His cheeks were pink with embarrassment. He'd visited Kyle's house just about every morning for as far back as he could remember, to only have a glance of his handsome, curly haired friend without receiving a "What're you looking at?" for a change. It wasn't as if it were his choice. Kyle trapped him every morning, though he didn't even realize it.

"What do you want?" Kyle asked after not receiving an answer.

Kenny lowered his head, "Sorry…. I'll go…."

Kyle grabbed his arm before he could turn to leave. He was unaware to himself of just why he did it. "…Come inside…. It's freezing…."

Kenny crawled through the window, receiving a helping hand from Kyle. The raggedy blonde tripped. And the result, seemed to be undisputed fate.

When Kyle felt Kenny's lips on his, the first thing he could manage to sort out of the chaotic thoughts that rushed through his crowded mind, was the amazement of how warm Kenny's lips were, despite the boy having just come inside from the cold snow. His own lips trembled as he struggled with whether or not he should pull away.

But to both boys, nothing could ever feel more right. Nothing could ever have been less out of place. The sunlight that had been so hesitant to shine that early morning, was now blinding, as the world had finally shifted into its rightful setting.

Kenny's heart raced. He pressed his lips more firmly against Kyle's, and kept them there. He had his hands grasping onto Kyle's shoulders. It was almost desperate. He feared that at any moment his friend would try and pull away. But he didn't.

Kenny felt an intense wave of passion. He knew it to be too strong for it to be expanding from just one heart. No. The passion that filled the air came from both him and Kyle. Kyle wanted it, just as he did.

Their lips met, then parted, then met again. Each subsequent kiss grew in its fervor and strength. Their bodies became hot, and their wants intensified. Their bodies moved slowly in unison with one another, and their hearts also began to beat within the same tempo.

Kyle had never felt so weak, yet firm at the same time. If Kenny hadn't had his body pressed into his own with such strength, Kyle was likely to have collapsed to the floor, overcome with extreme pleasure.

Kenny then took his lips from Kyle's and moved them slowly down his neck, unbuttoning the boy's pajama blouse. He heard Kyle breathing hard, but steady. He felt the hesitant touch on his back made by the redhead, and the returning of kisses to his own neck. Kenny's kisses made their way down Kyle's chest, abdomen, naval, and then retraced their path back to Kyle's soft lips, where a gentle moan escaped.

He felt Kyle playing with the string to his own pajama bottoms, as he removed his jacket and then shirt. Kyle allowed Kenny to push him up against the wall after removing his shirt, and the blonde leaned his naked body into his. Kyle rubbed his hands along Kenny's chest, digging his nails on impulse as he felt Kenny slide a hand down the front of his pants.

And then those warm lips- the lips that he had surprisingly felt on his own- that had traveled up and down his body- were at a place Kyle had never imagined they would ever be. He tried not to, but it was just too much for him, and he moaned loudly as he cum in his friend's mouth.

A lesson learned was that Kyle should have allowed his urges to voice his pleasure earlier, instead of letting the passionate heat build up to an unbearable point, that resulted in him moaning Kenny's name a little too loud, and his parents awaking in the next room, and walking in on, what had been, the most perfect moment of the two boys' lives.

---

What's worse than not having what you desire most? Having it for a brief moment and then having it immediately snatched away. Having that joy, bliss, and excitement- that everything, and then having it taken from you. It was utterly heart wrenching. Experiencing the ultimate experience, then being given the cruel banishment of never having it again.

It took Kyle's parents only four days to move out of South Park, taking Kyle with them, and stealing Kenny McCormick's heart as a result. And to him, nothing could be more maliciously fated. Life, it seemed, would continue to fuck him over. Repeatedly.

"We're going to be late," Stan said as the two drove to a band concert Stan was having that evening.

"We won't," Kenny said, switching lanes and accidentally cutting off another driver, receiving an angry honk.

"It starts in six minutes! We're never going to make it!"

"Stan, calm your ass down!"

"We wouldn't have this problem if you weren't off drawing stupid pictures in the middle of nowhere, when you knew you had to take me to my concert!"

"I said I was sorry!" He switched lanes again, cutting off another car. "Fuck!"

Stan sighed. "You can slow down. I mean, we're already late, being any later won't make a difference. I'm late and Mr. Villi won't let me on stage in the middle of a performance."

"Mr. Villi will let you on stage, because the thing won't start for another six minutes-"

"Five minutes."

"Five minutes. And we'll make it in five minutes."

"Kenny, it's alright. Maybe we should just-" Stan was interrupted by loud honking. He turned in his seat to look where it came from. A relatively young man in a sports car behind them shook his fists angrily, still honking the horn.

"Shut up, Asshole!" Kenny yelled.

Stan turned back around in his seat and let out another sigh. He continued to watch the car in the side mirror. He saw the man in the sports car switch to the lane beside them. He spat a mouthful of curses that were loud and clear through even the barrier of the rolled up windows.

"Shut up!" Kenny shouted.

Stan felt anxious as he saw that the man wouldn't leave them alone. "K-Kenny…" he squeaked.

"Stan, calm down. This fucker isn't going to do anything. He's just trying to scare you."

"He's swerving really close… Kenny… Kenny… I think we should pull over… or slow down and let him pass…." Stan scooted closer to Kenny and reached out to cling to a sleeve of his.

Kenny swatted his hand away. "We're going to make it to that fucking concert!"

"K-Kenny… K-K-Kenny… Kenny… Kenny!"

When the continuous twisting, turning, and toppling of the car finally stopped. Kenny sat frozen at the wheel. He had felt the vehicle roll in all sorts of directions, but just couldn't believe that it had happened. The roof of the car was dented, and just an inch from touching the top of his head. The windows were all broken and the car's engine had stopped.

He looked to Stan and saw a single bloody wound on his forehead. He hesitantly leaned over to his boyfriend and touched him. "…Stan?"

But there was no answer.