Another little Kendy drabble, they've really grown on me. I'm still not sure if I'm happy with this shot, but I really wanted to post it...Enjoy.
"I don't know how much longer I can take this."
Kenny looked up from the dreary kitchen catalogue he was boredly flicking through. He paused mid-flick as he watched the ebony haired woman by the window. She had one of her dainty hands poised over her mouth,as if she was trying to stop herself letting out a big sob.
"Take what?" Kenny asked, playing dumb. He had a good idea of what she might be talking about.
"Of this!" Wendy cried throwing her arms out. She glanced around her kitchen, pots, cutlery, miscellaneous clutter scattered everywhere. "I haven't found any time at all to clean up. Stan says I'm being lazy, well why doesn't he fucking clean it?" She let out the first sob and turned away from Kenny. "Lousy bastard."
"Oh baby doll." Kenny got up from his seat and moved over to her. He wrapped his arms around her and she fell into his hold, burying her face in his shoulder.
It had become a betraying routine. Every Sunday when Stan took the three Marsh children out, Kenny would sneak over to the house and sit with Wendy. It had started off innocently enough, Kenny came over to fix the plumbing one day and ended up talking to Wendy instead. So he came back the next weekend, and the weekend after. Even after he finally fixed the pipe he still came over in secret. They told each other all their problems over ridiculous amounts of coffee and brandy, and gradually found themselves head over heels with one another. Stan meanwhile, was watching his eldest son play Little League baseball and eating ridiculous amounts of ice cream with his younger son and daughter; completely unaware.
"I s-saw Bebe last weekend," Wendy snivelled. "She flew in f-from New York, oh Kenny..." She choked out a whimper. "You shoulda' seen her..still an amazing body, in this tight black dr-dress and pretty shoes...She's m-made so-something of herself..."
"And look what you've made of yourself!" Kenny soothed, "Your the best lawyer South Park has ever seen. And you have three beatiful children, they're incredible Wends."
"B-but I don't want them!" She wailed before pulling herself away from him, visibly shocked. "Oh my God." Wendy ran in to the hall and looked in the mirror, dabbing at her red eyes. "I didn't mean that! Of co-course I want them!" She called. "I just..I just..." Whatever she meant, she could not find the words, and dissolved in to snivels on the sofa.
"I know what you meant." Kenny joined her, and rubbed her shoulder soothingly. "Your just worn down Wends, Sunday is the only day you get off. Stan doesn't do enough."
"Well..what would you do?" Wendy asked, wiping her eyes still.
"What would I do?" Kenny repeated and glanced away briefly as he mulled this over. "What would I do?" He said again and moved closer to the young woman. "I would be here for you, night and day. I'd do my share. Those tykes aren't so difficult when you share the load."
"Oh Kenny." Wendy patted his cheek gently. "I know you raised your lil' sister all by yourself but imagine if there had been three of her, and she was running riot around the house with her siblings and you told them to sit down and eat their dinner but they won't and..." Wendy trailed off inhaling deeply as she gasped for breath. The stove hissed in the kitchen and Wendy stood, dislodging herself from the closeness between them.
"Ignore me Kenny." She called from the kitchen, the steel tone of authority now back in her voice. "Some days I just lose it and fall apart...I need to sort myself out."
"But you shouldn't ever have to feel like you just did." Kenny replied morosely. After tending to the stove Wendy wandered back in and grabbed a hairbrush that was resting the coffee table. She pulled it through her locks, gently tugging at knots and tangles. "I'm just being silly that's all."
Kenny watched her carefully as she weaved her hair through an elastic. Of course he'd noticed. He'd been infatuated with her for so long he noticed everything that changed about her. Her round dark eyes had lost some of their sparkle, and she always looked tired. She was always yawning and sighing and running her hands through that hair. She was rounder at the waist after having her babies and always said she just hadn't had time to do any exercise. She looked lost and alone, Kenny knew she missed Stan desperately; he was always out doing something or the other, unknowing that his little wife was crying at home while his children played at her feet. Kenny stood to his own feet and once again wrapped his arms around around Wendy from behind.
"Don't ever feel that you are ugly or fat or a bad mother. " Kenny told her as he held her. "Your perfect."
"I'm not perfect Kenny," Wendy murmured. "Nobody is perfect."
"Your perfect to me." Wendy turned in his embrace and he slowly leaned in to kiss her. She wound her arm around his neck, lacing her fingers through his hair. Winding his arm around her waist Kenny lifted Wendy gently, and lowered her on to the couch. Wendy kept her arms around him as he lay her down and kissed along her collarbone. Wendy moaned. "Fuck him the bastard." Kenny presumed she meant Stan.
He kissed and nibbled at her neck and moved his hands up her shirt. What was he doing? This was his best friends wife. While Kyle had triumphed as best man, Kenny had still been a groomsman at their wedding. He was godfather to their daughter Alba, he was 'Uncle Kenny'. What kind of figure would he be if Stan and his children came home to find mommy and uncle Kenny all tangled together on the family couch?
As hard as these loud thoughts tried to reason with him, they were over powered by years of infatuation and lust and longing. All those times Stan had been sat in the local bar, laughing and clinking beers with his friends, had Wendy been sat at home feeling totally isolated? She was beautiful, charming, sexy, intelligent and she'd given her everything to Stan over the years and she was still willing to give more.
"Oh Wendy, Wendy, Wendy, Wendy." Kenny snapped the strap on her bra with a quick flick of his thumb. During his thoughts she had dragged down his pants and he lowered himself over her. "Your beautiful." He whispered in her ear and she responded with a quick sharp gasp as he entered her, gripping his shoulders with all her strength. Her fingers dug in to his skin, nails scratching.
"Why are you with him?" Kenny found himself murmuring as he moved in rhythm. "He..he doesn't understand you, he.. doesn't appreciate you. Don't you get.. that he's the one... making you feel.. this..way?" Letting out a long stretch of breath he looked down to see Wendy staring up at him, her eyes brimmed with tears again as if everything Kenny has just said was her own thoughts. Kenny knew he should stop but he didn't want to, he had her, finally he had her.
"If..if I was your husband I would make you smile, and kiss you everyday..." Kenny pecked her lips lustfully. "And I wouldn't ever let you feel...like you do now.."
They were the most honest yet betraying words to ever leave Kenny's lips, and the most important response he'd ever waited for was lost; shrouded under the terrifying click of a key in a lock. Kenny launched himself off of Wendy and hauled up his jeans, he watched frantically as she scooped up her discarded items of clothing and fled to the downstairs bathroom. Buckling his belt and tugging down his shirt had never been so intense, Kenny collapsed back into the couch and glanced up as three dark haired children stampeded in.
"Uncle Kenny!" They cried and flung themselves on the blond.
"Oh hey man." Stan followed them in, looking rather surprised. "What's up?" He glanced around. "Where's Wendy?"
"I'm here." Wendy slunk in to the room and kissed her husband with such vigour he looked worried. "Has something happened?"
"No dude, I just dropped by to pick up those tools I lent you." Kenny said so casually Stan instantly relaxed.
"Dude you know I'm out on Sundays." Stan clarified as he peeled off his jacket. Kenny pulled one of the Marsh boys in to a careful headlock as he was pelted by tiny fists. "I know, but I wasn't sure till when. I've only been here ten minutes, Wendy said to just wait around 'cause you'd be home soon."
"Well I'll see if I can find 'em for you. Pretty sure I left them in the garage..." Stan left for said tools, muttering as he went. Kenny glanced up over the squirming children to see Wendy had turned her back on him, and was staring out of the window; arms folded tightly as Stan clanked away in the background.
"Here we are, like I thought, right by the door!" Stan shouted and upon his return brought back a rusting red toolbox and put it down on the arm of the couch.
"Thanks man, but I have to grab these and split. Plumbing emergency at my place." Kenny untangled himself from the mess of children and took the toolbox. He bumped fists with Stan and Wendy rather eagerly saw him to the door. Out on the stoop Kenny could hear Stan wrestling with his children loudly, he glanced over his burly shoulder at Wendy who lingered in the doorway looking forgotten. She smiled weakly and Kenny blew her a tiny kiss.
"Smile baby doll, I'll be back for you soon."
As he walked away Kenny's heart pounded like a basketball against his ribcage, and pure adrenalin raced through his veins. Home wrecking had never felt so right.