I need to catch up with South Park at some point; the last season I watched was Season 21. Thankfully, being behind has never been a problem with fanfiction (especially the Canon Divergent kind, lol).

Enjoy some more Stenny goodness. :D Thank you for reading!

Chapter 5

Kenny kissed Stan again after he straightened and wiped off the side of his lip. His mouth tasted awful, but Kenny hadn't been lying when he said he'd dealt with worse. Kenny wanted another kiss and he took it, shoving Stan against the side of his car as he grabbed the sides of his head.

Stan grunted and grabbed Kenny's waist, kissing him back after licking his lip between breaths.

Both had their own personal experience behind each kiss and touch, allowing them to skip over the awkward first time. A part of Kenny wished for those moments and the joy of new exploration, but his arousal kept repeating "thank you" that they could skip straight to the good stuff.

They made out until someone shouted "Get a room!" on their way out of the burger place behind them. Kenny pulled away and flipped the man off. Stan rubbed his face, his eyes looking down in embarrassment. Kenny rolled to the side and leaned against the car next to Stan, glaring at the man who'd interrupted them.

"I forgot we were in public," Stan said, dropping his hands at his side. His eyes wandered around the parking lot until it landed on his pile of sick staining the pavement. Stan groaned and said, "Let's go inside and see if they have any of that sawdust stuff."

"Or we could go back to making out." Kenny tugged on Stan's shirt, fingers near a problem that still made itself known through his pants. Kenny smirked and clicked his tongue. "Your backseat is awfully comfy."

Stan grabbed Kenny's wrist and pulled his hand up away from the shirt. "My bed is comfier. Help me clean this up so we can go home and not have to worry about being interrupted in a public parking lot."

Kenny snorted. "And they say I move quick."

"Don't be an ass."

Stan blushed and darted toward the restaurant. Kenny snickered and hopped back to sit on the hood of Stan's car, already looking forward to watching him bend over to clean up.

(Kenny hoped Stan's eagerness didn't fade after it was satisfied.)

"Are those Stan's clothes?" Karen asked when Kenny let himself into the house. She stared at him from the couch with wide eyes. She hopped up onto her knees and pointed. "They are!"

"Yes, he let me borrow some," Kenny said, annoyed she could tell from the blue jeans alone. He tugged on his parka's drawstring and dropped the borrowed duffle bag containing his princess gear onto the floor. "I stayed the night and he didn't want me to change into dirty clothes after a shower."

Stan hadn't said that, but it was pretty clear that's what he'd been thinking when he set out the fresh set of clothing on the counter while Kenny bathed.

"How considerate." Karen smirked and rested her elbows on the end of the couch. "How many hickeys are under your parka?"

"Less than I'd like," Kenny muttered under his breath. Stan the hopeless romantic was painfully gentle. Kenny would have complained if he hadn't been swept up in the moment. Kenny stretched his arms up over his head with a yawn. He pointed at Karen and said, "I'm not talking about that with you."

"Stingy," Karen said. She flopped back onto the couch and patted the seat next to her. "At least tell me about the rest of the party. Kevin took me home before all the good stuff could happen."

"He took you home so the good stuff could happen at all." Kenny sat next to his baby sister and leaned his head back to stare at the ceiling. "Stan's shy."

"You look happy," Karen said. She poked Kenny's cheek through his hood and picked up the remote. "So I won't pry and ruin it."

"Thanks."

Kenny put his hand on her head and ruffled her hair. He sunk into the couch and stretched out his legs. His stomach was full with pancakes and syrup from breakfast at the Marsh house. Stan's parents didn't blink at a friend staying the night, none the wiser that it hadn't been a typical sleepover.

Who knew Stan was the quiet type?

"Oh! I love this show!" Karen turned up the volume on the television and moved to the floor to sit closer to the small screen. "I hope it's not a rerun."

As his sister settled in to watch the soap opera, Kenny's phone buzzed. He dug it out of his pocket and checked the screen. The preview of Kyle's text read, "We need to talk. Now."

Kenny shoved his phone back in his pocket.

(Kyle could wait.)

Cartman visited an hour after Kyle's fifth text that Kenny ignored. He let himself inside and stomped across the living room. Carman scowled and grabbed Kenny by the arm, dragging him off the couch. "Let's go."

"Put me down!" Kenny shoved at Cartman's fat fingers, hating the muscle that hid under all that fat. "What are you doing?"

"I was wrong at Casa Bonita." Cartman flung Kenny over his shoulder as easily as he'd thrown Kyle the night before. Cartman carried Kenny out the door, not bothering to shut it behind him. "I thought Kyle's fury would be hilarious but he's just been annoying. He's been calling me all morning because neither you or Stan will answer your phones."

"Stan's not answering?" Kenny asked, stunned enough to stop struggling. Why wouldn't Stan answer Kyle's phone calls? "I thought Kyle was calling me because Stan told him about last night!"

"Ew, ew, ew. Don't confirm what happened. I don't want to hear about it!" Cartman threw Kenny into his truck's seat. He climbed into the driver's chair and started the engine. "I thought I was making shit up when I told Kyle you two weren't answering because you were together."

"I hate you so much." Kenny slumped into his seat and pulled his hood closed, hiding his entire face. "Why would you tell him that?"

"I wanted to laugh at him!"

"Cartman!"

"Kenny!"

The two snapped at each other, arguing about nothing the rest of the drive. All the good feelings of the morning faded into anger all the way up until Cartman pulled into Kyle's driveway—where Stan and Kyle stood side by side waiting.

Kyle snarled in fury; Stan had his head down.

"I brought him," Cartman said. He dragged Kenny out of the truck and shoved him before the two waiting friends. Cartman stood next to him and crossed his arms. "Let's get this over with."

"Stan and I are dating," Kenny said, huffing and shoving his hood back. He put his hands in his front pocket and stared Kyle down. "Forgive me for not telling you the morning after we decided."

"Were you going to tell us at all?" Kyle asked. "Because I'm getting the feeling you weren't going to tell us at all."

"I promised Cartman I'd be lovey-dovey with Stan in front of you to be annoying, so you would have found out sooner or later."

"What!" Kyle's head turned to Cartman. "Am I the only one who didn't know about this?"

"Don't look at me! It's not my fault you didn't notice them making eyes at each other!"

"You were making deals!"

Cartman and Kyle fell into an argument, snipping with equal vitriol back and forth. Kenny took that opportunity to slide over to Stan and tug on his sleeve.

"You okay?" Kenny asked. He nodded to Kyle and Cartman fighting and winced. "I knew Kyle'd be upset about this, but I thought we'd have more time to talk to him about it."

"How'd you know he'd be upset?" Stan asked. He turned to Kenny with a frown. "Kyle's our friend."

Kenny snorted and covered his mouth. "Our friend group is a codependent mess that relies on set roles to function. You and I just crumpled up the roles and tossed them out the window."

Stan glanced at the other two fighting. "I'm still not following. What's going to change because we started dating?"

"You'll—hopefully—spend more time with me, your boyfriend, than Kyle, your best friend." Kenny thought it was cute he had to spell it out. "Kyle's jealous, Stan. He's been jealous that you and I hung out to make the costume."

"Oh." Stan rubbed the back of his neck. "That makes sense."

Though, if Stan hadn't picked up on that—why'd he ignore Kyle's calls that morning?

Kenny pointed over his shoulder. "Cartman said Kyle was mad we both ignored his calls this morning. I ignored him because I thought he was going to gripe at me. What's your excuse?"

"I couldn't find my phone," Stan said. He cleared his throat and looked to the side. "I was trying to look behind the bed when Kyle came over to shout at me in person."

"Did you find it?"

"Yeah," Stan said, crossing his arms. "Kyle found it under the dresser. I think it got kicked during uh…last night."

Stan shoved Kenny in the shoulder for laughing at him. The movement caught Kyle and Cartman's attention, and once more their friends' wrath was turned toward Kenny and Stan.

"I don't know why I'm even bothering." Kyle threw his hands up. "All my friends are assholes."

"Yes, we are," Kenny said. He shrugged at Stan's glare. "What? He's not wrong."

Cartman snickered and Kyle smacked his arm. Stan covered his face with his hands and Kenny pulled his hood back on. After a moment, Stan jogged over to get between Kyle and Cartman. He said something too soft for Kenny to hear and dragged Kyle into the house with a soft "We'll be right back."

(Kenny had expected Stan to side with Kyle, but was surprised by how much it still hurt.)

"Surprised you're still here," Kenny said, sitting crosslegged in the grass. Cartman sat on his truck seat with the door open. "Figured you'd be bored and leave."

"It's not like I have anything better to do," Cartman said. He popped open a soda from the cooler on the back seat. "I might as well see the end of your mess."

"My mess?"

"You're the one that made a move on Stan."

"That you encouraged." Kenny shot back. That night at Casa Bonita meant nothing, it seemed. "I'm supposed to be your best friend, aren't I? Where's the support?"

"Stop pouting." Cartman moaned in annoyance and leaned back as he gulped down a soda. "Kyle gets his way all the time because Stan allows it, but we both know if Stan puts his foot down that Kyle will bend. Lover boy always picks his lover over Kyle. You know it. I know it. Kyle knows it—that's why he's so jealous."

"Liar," Kenny said, rested his face in his palm. He almost felt touched that Cartman was trying to cheer him up. "Stan keeps getting dumped because he hung out with Kyle over his girlfriends."

"Can't say I didn't try."

Cartman crunched his empty soda can and tossed it in the back. He turned to face his dash and slumped into the chair. Cartman read a tabloid magazine while they waited un Stan and Kyle to finish their agonizingly long talk.

Kenny checked his phone for the time.

Ten minutes.

Maybe not agonizingly long, but he wished they'd hurry up and come outside. Kenny'd been having such a good day and he wanted to relive it. He didn't care what conclusion Stan and Kenny came to—he was spending the night at the Marsh house again.

Kenny wanted to be selfish.

He wanted Stan to be gentle and focused on him.

He wanted to wear another set of Stan's clothes under his parka.

He wanted to be the reason for Stan losing his phone again.

He wanted Kyle to share.

Kenny fell back into the grass and stared at the sky. He had a good day and night with Stan, as both Princess Kenny and himself. Those memories wouldn't go anywhere, no matter what happened with Kyle.

(No one could take that away from Kenny.)

"Hey, man." Stan stood over Kenny with his hands in his pockets. "You fell asleep."

Kenny rubbed the side of his face and grunted. He rolled over onto his stomach to push himself up. "What happened to Kyle and Cartman?"

"They both went home. They saw you fell asleep and decided we could talk about it later." Stan held out his hand to pull Kenny to his feet. "I figured I'd wait until they were gone before I woke you up."

"Thanks." Kenny stepped forward and selfishly hugged Stan. He leaned on his shoulder and sunk into his arms. "If you're breaking up with me, don't tell me until tomorrow."

"I'm not breaking up with you." Stan snorted and squeezed Kenny. "I know my relationships don't last long, but it's only been a day, man."

Kenny grinned into Stan's shirt and hugged him tighter.

(Whatever Stan and Kyle talked about, Kenny had Stan in the moment and he'd cherish it.)