A/N: I'm enough of a sheep to jump on the Kenny/Tweek bandwagon that I'm seeing around. I also mentioned to one of the infinitely better authors around here that I'd do one, and I don't like making myself a liar.

LOL, I wrote this at 1:20 in the morning. XB

Disclaimer: If I owned South Park, I wouldn't be writing fanfics for it.


He was floored, honestly.

A thin, long-fingered hand brushed against off-white, slightly curled paper, leaving gray streaks of granite in its wake. What was remarkable about this was not so much the way the lines varied enough to distinguish between the fine detail of a fringe of eyelashes, and the bold shading of the iris below, but the fact that the hand was so patient… So precise and unwavering in its gestures…

The hand belonged to one Tweek Tweak, an individual not well known for his steady, thoughtfully considered movements. It surely had to be a sort of miracle.

"Ngh, stay still, man!" Tweek ordered in his characteristically strained voice. "I don't wanna mess it up!"

It was all Kenny could do to keep his mouth from hanging open in surprise. "Well, excuse me. I wasn't exactly expecting you to be freaking amazing at this."

"Don't say that!" Tweek whimpered. "Too much pressure! Don't look at it!" He hunched his bony shoulders over the drawing, and shifted so that the picture was out of Kenny's view.

They had been sitting in their art class for the last fifteen minutes, and upon the teacher's request for portraits of classmates, everyone else had paired off. This left Kenny and Tweek on their own, and Kenny decided to flow with it… After all, Tweek was so jittery, the picture that he drew might look interesting, at the least. Kenny didn't mind having his face butchered if it made for a good laugh.

But, as soon as Kenny had posed, Tweek quickly sketched out the basic structure of the pose and subject, roughed out where Kenny's features were (Even including his most recent injury, covered up by a large, square Band-Aid), and started filling in more delicate features, like shading and stray hairs, all in those fifteen minutes. His hand never deviated from where he wanted the pencil to go; the rest of Tweek's body made up for the lack of nervous movement, his eye occasionally jerking shut as his head jolted into a tilt towards his left shoulder.

"… You work fast," Kenny observed, awe-stricken.

"Shh!" Tweek hissed. "Just let me get a few more things, and then you can move!"

He made a few more swipes at the paper, before looking over his work with a critical eye, gasping as Kenny leaned forward for a look.

"No! It looks terrible…" Tweek yelped, cringing away. "I don't want you to see!"

Kenny was disappointed, although he didn't let it show. "Whatever, dude. It's my turn, anyway. You sit still, now." He said this last part with a small, teasing smirk, and Tweek had a tiny spasm in response.

It didn't take long before Kenny was laughing, entertained immensely by how bad his own drawing was. Especially since he'd expected Tweek to do worse, his laughter was tainted by just the smallest tinge of guilt, and he quieted into a wry smile as he showed his drawing to the jittery blonde boy.

"I know; I'm awesome. Normally, I'd charge for such a masterpiece, but considering you're the model and everything…"

"K-Kenny," Tweek stammered, his large, hazel eyes fixing on the drawing and giving a small shudder. "We're supposed to hand this in at the end of the period."

Kenny pushed his lips into a joking pout. "Fine, Tweek. Kill my fantasies."

"Grk," Tweek shook fitfully for a few seconds, before tilting his head abruptly. "Sorry!"

"Kidding, man. I'm kidding."

The bell rang, and everyone ran to throw their drawings on the teacher's desk, Tweek being no exception as his work disappeared into the pile and he rushed out of the room.

Kenny, however, lagged behind, casually dropping his doodle at the top of the heap, before sifting through the pieces that preceded it.

"Crap… Crap… Ooh, that one's especially shitty," He mumbled to himself, bored. "The eye's not even on, right… Crap… Crap… There it is!"

He pulled Tweek's drawing out, and studied it hungrily.

His eyes hadn't failed him; the boy was really good. The picture, Kenny hated to admit, looked better than he actually did, even with that big ass Band-Aid spanning his graphite self's cheek.

"Hey, dude," Kyle clapped Kenny on the shoulder as he walked in and tossed his bag on a desk. "What're you—Wow, damn, who did that?" His brown eyes widened as he goggled at the drawing in Kenny's hands.

"Get this—It was fucking Tweek." Kenny held up the picture so that Kyle could get a better view. "He banged this out in, like, fifteen minutes. No fucking lie." He sighed dreamily at it. "And such a sexy bastard he drew. I almost want to take it with me."

Kyle rolled his eyes. "Well, yeah. I heard that the guidance counselor made him take up drawing classes. It's supposed to help his nerves or some shit like that."

Kenny laughed as he slipped the paper back in with the rest, before nodding good-bye to Kyle, walking out of the room, and frowning.

It was kind of disappointing, the thing about the drawing classes. Not that it lessened Kenny's newfound respect for Tweek and his ability, but it would've been a lot cooler if that had been raw, natural talent that he'd seen at work.

He chuckled to himself, remembering the way Tweek's face had screwed up in concentration as he worked, relaxing only to twitch.

It had been kind of cute.