Soundtrack: Boys Boys Boys – Lady Gaga
Between school and their jobs, Stan and Kyle seldom get out or have fun of any kind, and Kenny has sworn to change that, if only for one night. They're only twenty-two, for God's sake, and beyond cohabitating, they act like a married couple, too. When Kyle asked Kenny if Grey's Anatomy was any good over coffee last week, Kenny drew the line.
The conversation had gone accordingly:
"Is Grey's Anatomy decent at all, dude? Stan and I need a new show to watch," Kyle asked, nursing a coffee with way too much mixed into it for it to taste like coffee at all.
And then Kenny gaped.
"What?" demanded Kyle.
"Seriously, man? You guys need to get out some more," Kenny said, and swirled his coffee in its paper cup before he downed what was left of it, "I swear, you're worse than a married couple. You like, live in your sweatpants, dude."
"What's wrong with sweatpants?" asked Kyle, "And we're getting married anyway. Then what'll you tell us?"
"Probably the same damn thing," answered Kenny, "That you guys need to get out and live a little. I swear your homework and television won't begrudge you one night out clubbing."
"Yes, clubbing," Kenny defensively said, "and don't tell me that you wouldn't love to grind up on Stan someplace."
"It's too much effort," complained Kyle.
"I will kidnap you both if you tell me no," threatened Kenny, "Come on, please."
Kyle rolled his eyes, and agreed with a sigh, "Fine. We'll do something this weekend. But if it sucks, then you have to stop bugging us about it. And recommend a good TV show."
"Star Trek," said Kenny, "And deal."
The rest of the week rolled by without consequence – it was a mish-mash of Kenny's usual night owl routine of bartending and sleeping until after one in the afternoon and trying to make Christmas plans with Karen, who has adamantly said that she'd rather fly with her boyfriend back to visit his family in Massachusetts. Kenny doesn't blame her. Their family is always hell over the holidays, but it's still the one time that they're all together. Even if it's rowdy and somebody typically ends up accidentally shooting another relative, it's still got some value.
Or maybe not to Karen.
"Kenny, where are we going?" sighs Stan.
"We're going to Crystal," Kenny answers.
"Why? Isn't Tracks cheaper?" complains Kyle.
"Yeah, but Crystal has like, professional hot guys," Kenny replies, "Figure I may as well get laid while we're at this."
"Ugh," Kyle expresses, but neither he nor Stan complains for the rest of the ride there.
Kenny parks the car and surveys the surroundings. It's late, and the club is already in full swing, with people dressed in skimpy outfits and rave gear, or the occasional guy dressed like Stan or Kyle, in a button up and jeans. For the sake of simplicity, Kenny went for tight jeans and a fitted t-shirt, something that he can take off if he needs to and not give a damn if he loses it in the excitement.
Housed in a refurbished warehouse, Crystal is the swankiest gay club that Denver has to offer. Kenny likes it because he has never gone home without somebody with him, and because all the bartenders make damn good drinks – he appreciates a good drink.
The bouncer at the front scans their IDs takes their money. Without hesitation, their first stop is the bar, where Kenny tells the bartender to surprise him, and Kyle orders something predictably fruity, and Stan requests a beer. The crowd is thick tonight, and the air smells like sweat and cologne.
Costumed dancers hang above the crowd in oversized birdcages. Sometimes there's a theme that the costumes follow, but tonight it's mixed. The nearest dancer to them is a guy in white underwear and angel wings that ducks down to wink at Kenny.
"I suppose this isn't that bad," Kyle remarks, taking a sip of his pink drink, "The guys are kind of hot."
"Hey," Stan says.
"You're hotter than all of them," Kyle tells him, and they lean into a kiss that Kenny rewards with gagging noises behind them.
Stan polishes off his bear and sets it on the bar before they brave the dance floor. He points to one of the dancers, whose back is to them, and remarks, "That guy has a nice ass."
"Mm," agrees Kyle, "I bet the fucker probably works out."
But then the dancer turns – and all the blood drains out of Stan and Kyle's faces. The moment that Butters Stotch turns to face them, he pauses mid-ass-wiggle and says, "Hey! I haven't seen you fellas in ages. What brings you here?"
Kenny pushes himself in front of Stan and Kyle and follows their stunned silence with a flick of a dollar up to Butters. He answers, "Kyle and Stan don't know how to have fun anymore, so I took them out."
"I resent that," Kyle calls from behind Kenny, but they see Kenny's intervention as an opportunity to escape – when Kenny glances behind himself again, Kyle and Stan have been swallowed by the crowd.
"I need to get back to dancin'," Butters says, "But I have a break in about an hour if you're still around."
"Sure," says Kenny, "I bet I will be."
And yeah, he usually gets in and out with somebody to take home within forty-five minutes, but for some reason, he feels inclined to wait around. Kenny dances through a few songs and then has a second drink at the bar. It's just as he finishes that drink that Butters slips onto the barstool beside his, a slight, crooked smile on his face. He's dressed as a firefighter – a slutty one – in black shorts and combat boots, with red suspenders. He sets his plastic hat down on the bar and greets, "How've you been? It's been like, what? Three years?"
"Yeah, it's been a long time," Kenny says, "I've been good. I bartend mostly. My apartment's small and shitty but it's cheap, so I can't complain. What about you, dude? It's kind of surprising to find you here."
And surprising how fucking attracted he is to Butters. The guy is fucking stacked, and Stan didn't have it wrong: Butters' ass is a full ten out of ten.
Butters shrugs, "I make good tip money. How's your sister doin'?"
"She's got a bunch of scholarships up at CU Boulder," Kenny answers, "For cross country and good grades and shit. It's awesome, but the drive up that way can be a haul, you know? I miss her sometimes."
"I know what you mean," Butters answers, and he pauses to order a drink.
Within minutes they're laughing and talking like they never left South Park, like it hasn't been three entire years since they last saw each other – and even then, Butters was still in sweaters and corduroy pants, so shy he couldn't get a few words out without stammering. And maybe it's just the drinks talking, but Kenny thinks that Butters might be giving him the eyes – the ones that are inviting a kiss.
So he does it. He kisses Butters Stotch.
And Butters kisses back.
Kenny cups Butters' cheeks in his hands and slips his tongue into Butters' mouth. He tastes good, and Kenny actually groans a little when he has to pull away. And then when he opens his eyes and sees Butters' stunned face, he realizes what just happened.
"Oh, shit, dude," Kenny exclaims, "I'm sorry. Shit. You probably have guys do that to you all the time."
Butters shakes his head and says, "It's okay. I liked it."
"Yeah, I had a crush on you all through high school," Butters laughs softly and leans forward to press his lips to Kenny's again, "And you seem to just be gettin' cuter, if you ask me." Butters kisses him another time, more deeply, and when he pulls back, he winks and says, "I gotta get back to work, but if you wait up until three I wouldn't mind comin' home with you."
Kenny swallows the heavy knot his throat and nods. He says dumbly, "Yeah, yeah of course."
Kenny is so committed to this promised sex that he gives Stan and Kyle his car keys and tells them to drive themselves home and to have fun. And the wait is torture, enough that Kenny drinks through a few more beverages to make it seem less painful to watch the clock. He tries to dance, but ends up with his eyes on Butters more often than not, watching how he wraps his hands around the bars of his cage and twists his body in ways that Kenny had no fucking clue that boy was capable of.
Kenny waits outside the 'Employees Only' door when the night winds down, and he jumps to action when Butters exits in a t-shirt and jeans – though he still has his plastic hat on his head.
"Hey," Kenny says, but before he can get anything else out, an enormous guy appears at Butters' side.
"This guy bothering you?" he asks Butters.
Butters touches the bouncer's shoulder in a way that suggests they're more than just coworkers and smiles, "Don't worry about it Mike. Kenny and I knew each other in high school. We're just gonna catch up with each other."
Mike nods, but casts Kenny a glare that feels like a warning before he steps away.
"Don't take it personally," Butters tells him, "We get a lot of loony guys here."
Kenny is not surprised.
"Hey, so, I let Stan and Kyle take my car home. Can we drive yours back to my place?"
"Sure," Butters smiles, and he leans up to kiss Kenny again, wrapping his arms around Kenny's neck to pull him in close. Kenny's heart starts beating so hard that he can hear it in his ears. He can't pull Butters out of Crystal fast enough – the kiss still has him reeling, and his cock is already half-hard in his pants. He had no idea that somebody like Butters Stotch could make him react like this, and he feels stupid for not taking advantage of it sooner.
Especially since Butters had a crush on him in high school.
How had he not known?
He always knows.
Butters unlocks his car in the lot, but before he climbs in, Kenny pushes him up against the side to lean down and kiss him hard. He's solid and warm, and feels good in Kenny's arms. Butters whines a little in his mouth. When they separate, Butters whispers against Kenny's lips, his breath hot and soft, "I always knew you were an amazing kisser."
"I'm amazing at a lot of things," Kenny whispers back.
"I'll bet you are," Butters breathes, and nips down on Kenny's lower lip before they disconnect and load into the car.
Kenny has always appreciated the short distance between his apartment building and Crystal, but never more than he does now. When Butters parks in the lot, Kenny immediately kisses him again, all hot and heavy, so good it makes him groan. He tugs Butters into the building and up the stairs, fumbling with his apartment key in the lock between kisses.
As soon as the door closes behind him, Kenny tugs his shirt up over his head and pulls Butters into a heavy kiss by his blond hair.
Butters whimpers but presses flush against Kenny, grinding up against him. When he pulls back, he kisses along Kenny's neck and murmurs, "You're already hard."
Kenny reaches down and rubs his palm over the front of Butters' jeans. He remarks, "You too."
"I got a good reason to be," Butters says back. He reaches down between them and undoes the fly of Kenny's jeans, slipping his hands inside to cup Kenny's ass through his underwear. Kenny hisses through his teeth and leans forward to nip at Butters' neck before he pulls Butters up and herds him out of the living room (it's more of a square, but there's a couch and a television in it so he figures it counts) and into his closet-sized bedroom, tossing him back onto the bed.
There, he pulls Butters' shirt up over his head and breathes out a long sigh of satisfaction. Beneath him, Butters looks amazing, all wiggly and hard in his jeans.
"You're…" Kenny starts. Sexy? Incredible? A million different words that he never thought to apply to Butters Stotch until tonight? "…damn."
Butters laughs a little pulls Kenny down so that they can kiss. His lips are soft and taste like mint chapstick, but the way he kisses is rough and desperate, like he's starving and Kenny's lips are the only thing to feed him. The way he wraps his arms around Kenny makes him want to burrow into their tangled bodies even more, though they couldn't be closer than they are now.
In minutes, Kenny has stripped Butters' down to nothing but tight black underwear, provided what surely will be a hickey tomorrow morning, and ridded himself of his own jeans. He can feel Butters' cock against his through the fabric of their underwear, and it makes him swallow.
"What are you waiting for?" Butters asks.
Kenny kisses him, and strokes a thumb over the curve of his cheekbone before he answers, "You sure you want to do this?"
"Of course I'm sure!" Butters exclaims, and yanks Kenny down into another kiss. He rolls Kenny over and whisks his boxers off, tossing them someplace across the small bedroom, before he slides his own down his hips. He comes back to the bed and straddles Kenny, giving himself a stroke and casting a wicked smile over him.
"Jesus, Butters," is all that Kenny can manage.
"You want me to get myself ready, or do you wanna do it?" he asks, and runs the tip of his tongue over the silver stud in Kenny's ear.
Kenny's mouth goes dry, and for a moment he can't find the words to answer.
"Let me do it," he says, as much as he thinks he'd love watching Butters' finger himself, "I want to make you squirm."
He shifts so that Butters is underneath him, and leans over to reach into his drawer and pull out his lube and condoms, setting the latter aside for the time being. Kenny pops open the lube and drizzles it over his fingers. He rearranges them so that Butters has his legs spread wide open and bracketed around Kenny's waist.
He can feel the heat coming from Butters' body, and with it he swears that he has never been more desperate to be inside somebody than he is right now. He slides a finger inside Butters and kisses his legs as he does, catching Butters' skin between his teeth.
"More," Butters whines.
Kenny's brows lift, but he obeys, and slips a second finger inside Butters. When his fingers find Butters' prostate, Butters swears from beneath Kenny, letting out a long string of words that he didn't even know were in Butters' dictionary.
And to be honest, it's making him even hornier.
The next finger is a tighter fit, but Butters doesn't even wince, something that indicates to Kenny that even if Butters is hurting, he's a seasoned soldier in this business. Kenny leans over him to say against his ear, "I can't wait to be inside you."
"I can't either," moans Butters, and he rubs against Kenny like a cat.
"Fuck," is all that Kenny can say to that, before he withdraws his hand and fumbles for the condoms. He rolls one over his cock and pours a generous amount of lube to follow.
Before he can comprehend everything that's happening, he's halfway inside Butters, and he's lost. He cries out and thrusts all the way in, which makes Butters hiss and dig his nails into the skin on Kenny's shoulder blades. Butters holds him still for a moment before he orders, "Fuck me hard. Please."
"Yes, sir," Kenny agrees. He's smiling when he kisses Butters again, and pulls out to slam back into him a moment later. Butters shouts and rakes his nails over Kenny's back. Kenny does it again, and again. He holds onto the headboard of his cheap, Goodwill bed for leverage and ruts hard, trying to focus on Butters first, and himself second, but quickly losing focus.
Kenny reaches down and takes Butters' cock in hand, stroking as he drives into him, and babbles, "You – you got a great cock. I wish I'd known that in high school."
"Me too," Butters groans. Kenny smiles down at him, and Butters takes advantage of the moment to shift Kenny onto his back. He fucks himself down onto Kenny's cock, holding the headboard in each of his hands as he rides, and then commands, "Touch me."
Kenny does. It's the only thing that he can do with Butters on him like this. It feels like his brain has been erased, and his only function is to finish this right now. He cries out each time Butters pulls up and falls back down against him, their skin slapping together to a beat.
Butters comes first, hard and everywhere, and Kenny follows soon after. He holds Butters close to him when he comes and muffles his cries in Butters' neck.
He doesn't move for a long time afterward. Instead, he loops his arms around Butters and keeps them locked together, even as his cock softens inside him. He noses at Butters' neck and presses lazy kisses up to his ear and jaw. Even after several minutes, all he can manage to get out is, "Wow."
"I know," Butters concurs, and laces his fingers through Kenny's damp hair. He adds, "and now I really wish that I'd told you I was all hard up for you in high school."
Kenny laughs hoarsely, and thinks that he might mumble something about how they should make up for lost time, but before he can be sure, or hear a response, he's asleep, still tucked up against Butters.
When Kenny wakes up, light filters into his bedroom from the dirty window, giving everything a dull, golden glow. He's cold, and when he rolls over, the events of last night come back. His bed smells like sex and a little bit foreign – that wonderful scent of somebody new being wrapped up in the sheets. But not really somebody new, because this is somebody that Kenny's know since preschool.
And he's not here.
Kenny sits up and groans, a pang in his chest when he realizes that he has been ditched. It shouldn't be a surprise. They were both at least buzzed, and they hadn't seen each other for a long-ass time before last night. So why should –
"What are you doing?"
Butters is at Kenny's kitchen table with a plate of pancakes and glass of orange juice next to him. And he's wearing Kenny's clothes.
"Hey, Ken," Butters greets, "I made some pancakes. There are some next to the stove there. I hope you don't mind that I borrowed your clothes. Mine were all – all covered in come, and I have to get to work soon so I don't have time to go back to my place."
"Work?" Kenny echoes, "It's daytime, dude."
"I can't make a living just working as a cage dancer, Kenny," Butters says evenly, "I have a day job at a bakery."
"Aren't you going to school?" asks Kenny.
"Not anymore," Butters says, and he takes a sip of his orange juice, "Couldn't afford it after my parents cut me off and kicked me out."
"They did what?" Kenny realizes that he has been holding this conversation completely naked. He gestures to himself and asks, "You don't mind, do you?"
Butters laughs and says, "It's good. I like a naked guy in the morning."
At that, Kenny laughs, too, and pads over to the kitchen counter, where a stack of perfectly round, golden pancakes is arranged on one of his plastic plates. They're still warm – Kenny grabs three. He doesn't typically eat this well, especially after a one-night stand. He takes his plate to the kitchen table and parks himself across from Butters.
As he makes a grab for the syrup bottle, he pries, "So…why'd you get kicked out? If you don't mind my asking."
"I came out to them," Butters answers. His words are clipped, and he frowns.
"We don't have to talk about it if you don't want," Kenny offers, though he feels a flash of anger shoot through him of the idea that Butters' parents would cut him off and boot him out of the only house he's known because he's gay. Sure, Kenny's parents aren't paragons of virtue, but they've at least accepted that their younger son is happy to sleep with people of any gender and orientation.
Butters shrugs and says, "It's okay, I don't mind. I just – I trusted them, you know? I thought maybe – that maybe I could finally tell them, and that it would be okay. But they just yelled at me and tossed me out. I had to quit school and – I'm sorry, I don't want to dump all of this on you, Ken. I had a real nice time last night and I don't want to spoil it."
Kenny swallows his bite of pancakes and instinctively reaches across the table to cover Butters' bigger hand with his. He says, "It's all right, man. I had a good time too. And you can talk to me. I don't mind. I listen to Stan and Kyle all the time."
At this, Butters offers a wobbly smile but doesn't say anything. He just finishes his pancakes in silence, and Kenny decides to take the cue to keep quiet until Butters wants to talk.
As Butters finishes his food, he checks his phone and curses, "Shit. I'm gonna be late for work. I hate run out but ah – I'll bring your clothes back, okay?"
"That means I'll get to see you again, right?" asks Kenny. He follows Butters to the apartment door.
Butters pauses and studies Kenny before giving him a genuine smile. He leans up to press a soft kiss to Kenny's lips and says, "Yeah, I'll see you again."
Butters closes the door behind him, and Kenny reaches up to touch his lips.
"Damn," he says to himself.
He thinks he might actually like that guy.