Wish Upon a Kiss
"God, I'm so fucking scared," he whispered, breath shattering across the frosty window and clinging to the glass. Through it he saw the hazy outlines of his friends all laughing and eating the traditional pizza before the birthday boy blew out his candles on the birthday cake and made his wish.
Kenny's mouth was in a thin line. He'd told them he just needed some air. What he needed was an "off" switch. His entire life was one warped case of insomnia, and it was the Big Sleep that continued to evade him. Not his body but his soul had grown weary over the years. For as long as he could remember Kenny knew he was something other than mortal. Calling himself immortal didn't sit well either. Immortality still implied choice, and he had none.
Sighing heavily, he ducked to the side as Kyle looked toward the window. But it was too late; not even a minute later the redhead stepped outside, huddling into himself as the cold bit at him viciously.
"Stupid," Kenny lectured half-hearted, "You're going to get hypothermia."
"Doubtful," Kyle snorted, sidling up to his friend. "Dude, it's time for cake."
"It's time for cake," he parroted without inflection. "Time for cake."
Brows furrowed, Kyle nudged him with his elbow. "C'mon, you have to wish for a porn star girlfriend or something."
Leering exaggeratedly, Kenny shoved Kyle playfully into the wall and rubbed his palms over the boy's flat chest. "Maybe I'll wish for you to grow tits."
"Fuck you," Kyle yelped, breaking into high-pitched laughter when Kenny began to tickle him. He thrashed and gasped, dropping to the ground in a lame act of self-defense.
Staring down at Kyle, he looked at the boy's pale cheeks high with color, green eyes already watering from forced laughter. Kenny's expression was blank and he saw when Kyle's face fell as his friend looked up at him.
"If you knew that no one would remember the next day… What would you do?"
Kyle looked taken-aback at first. Then, upon realizing Kenny's serious tone, he considered it. "As long as it wouldn't hurt anyone."
"It wouldn't," he promised, half to himself.
"Kenny," he repeated, voice firmer. "Quit acting like a spaz. Cartman's going to eat all the goddamn cake before you make your wish."
Suddenly Kenny grabbed him. Startled, Kyle just stared at the wild look in the blond's eye, a lick of fear striping his countenance. Slowly moving his hands up to gently cup Kyle's face, his fingers cold against flushed skin, Kenny leaned forward and kissed him. Their lips touched and melted together in a shower of sparks that Kenny imagined for a moment were real. Kyle had gone completely stiff, his eyes blown wide. Kenny's eyes had slipped shut, one arm sliding around Kyle's waist to haul him even closer, their bodies flush against one another.
Tilting his head, Kenny sought to deepen the kiss, smiling against a hot mouth as Kyle made a noise of surprise. He pushed Kyle's mouth wider, slipping inside; tasting, taunting. Their teeth clicked wetly, the rush of searing warmth a dizzying juxtaposition to the icy coldness that surrounded them in a cocoon of isolation. The whole world was centered right here, in this kiss.
But it couldn't last. It was almost time.
Kenny bit down on Kyle's lower lip, sucking gently. He didn't miss the tiny sound that Kyle made when he finally drew away, thumb smearing the wetness over the redhead's swollen mouth.
"Time for cake," he reminded his friend, smiling sadly.
Kyle remained in shock while Kenny turned and went back inside. Shaking fingers caressed his burning lips and he had to reach out and lean heavily against the wall lest his knees give out. Once he'd collected himself, mind a storm of confusion and want, Kyle made his way inside. Blue eyes met his gaze directly, and he noticed Kenny's was already poised over the cake, candlelight casting a syrupy golden glow over his features. The clock on the wall behind Kenny's head ticked closer to the exact minute Kenny had been born. It became tradition years and years ago that Kenny would blow out his candles right as his birthday became official. For some reason Kyle felt a leaden weight of dread in his stomach. Something was different this year; Kyle sensed something. The way Kenny was looking at him; what he'd said outside. Green eyes darted from the clock—15 seconds—back to Kenny's face. There was sorrow there, regret. Kyle started forward, brows knit.
Kyle broke into a run, "Kenny!"
Kenny felt a tear slide down his cheek as he awoke, alone, in his bed. He glanced at the clock, rage bubbling up within him when he saw the time. Grabbing the nearest thing to him—a shoe—he threw it at the clock, the surface splitting and the hands dislodged as it went crashing to the floor.
His face was wet when he took his hands away minutes later. He stared up at the ceiling.
Who knew where this reset left the moment aborted—was the cake unmade, the pizza unbaked? Were the presents unbought, the kiss…
Was the kiss unkissed?
Kenny's heart clenched painfully, afraid because he already knew the answer.