Dumb Boys

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/13528233.

Rating: Explicit
Archive Warning: Choose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Category: M/M, Multi, F/M
Fandom: South Park
Relationship: Clyde Donovan/Kenny McCormick, Craig Tucker/Tweek Tweak, Stan
Marsh/Wendy Testaburger, Token Black/Nichole Daniels, Kenny
McCormick/Red (chapter 7), Token Black/Nichole Daniels/Clyde
Donovan (chapter 15), Clyde Donovan/Stan Marsh (chapter 19), Kenny
McCormick/Wendy Testaburger (chapter 20)
Character: Clyde Donovan, Kenny McCormick, Craig Tucker, Bebe Stevens, Tweek
Tweak, Stan Marsh, Token Black, Jimmy Valmer, Kevin Stoley, Nichole
Daniels, Wendy Testaburger, Kyle Broflovski, Heidi Turner, Eric
Cartman, Red (South Park), Karen McCormick, Various Characters
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - High School, Aged-Up Character(s), High School
sex comedy, Slow Burn, multiple one-time pairings, Underage Drinking,
Vaginal Sex, Questioning one's sexuality, Threesome - F/M/M, Anal
Sex, Oral Sex, Alternate Universe - Marching Band, Alternate Universe
- Football, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Adolescent Sexuality, Smut,
Masturbation
Language: English
Stats: Published: 2018-01-30 Updated: 2022-10-16 Chapters: 22/? Words:
124736

Dumb Boys
by Luces

Summary

It's senior year at Park County High and Clyde Donovan is ready to cement his legacy as
the number one guy in the school. He's already one of the school's football stars so it
shouldn't be difficult, except that Kenny McCormick, the lead snare drummer for the
marching band, seems to be taking that spot without even trying. In order to determine once
and for all who is the top guy, Clyde decides to challenge Kenny to a contest of who can
have sex with the most people in a semester.

Notes

So this is basically an excuse for me to write Clenny and hopefully have a nice, completed
multi-chapter story for this ship. This is also an excuse for me to write a little bit of some
rare pairs that don't often get the love they deserve. This may turn out to be a long one, so I
hope you'll join me on this ridiculous high school journey.
 Prologue
Chapter Notes

So this is basically an excuse for me to write Clenny and hopefully have a nice,
completed multi-chapter story for this ship. This is also an excuse for me to write a
little bit of some rare pairs that don't often get the love they deserve. This may turn out
to be a long one, so I hope you'll join me on this ridiculous high school journey.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

“Are we r-r-rolling?”

“Jimmy, this is a digital videocamera. There’s no rolling. There’s no film to roll!”

“Sh-shu-t the fu-uhh-uck up, Kevin!” Jimmy blinked a few times. He tapped the wireless mic in
his hand. Kevin simply shook his head. “Uhh…we’ll fix that in p-post.”

Kevin chuckled as he zoomed in slightly to improve the shot, adjusting it so that Jimmy was better
placed in the frame.

“Okay, ready? Aaand-” He pointed his finger silently at his friend.

“Welcome to Park County High Super School News, video edition! This is your host, senior
journalist Jimmy Valmer! It’s that time of year again here in Park County. The sun is out, the snow
has long melted, and it’s a brand new school year. Can I get a wh-what-what for the Senior Class
of 2018?”

Jimmy smiled at the camera and posed, waiting for Kevin to respond.

“Umm…what-what?” he awkwardly replied behind the camera.

“That’s the kind of enthusiasm that we have here at Park County High!”

Kevin had to stifle his laughter. Jimmy was a pro in front of the camera, especially at the “fake it
until you make it” technique of pretending that everything is better than it is.

“With the dawn of the new school year,” Jimmy continued, “comes everybody’s fa-favorite
American pastime, football! And here behind me, we have the 2017 Colorado State Division 2-A
runner ups, your Park County Bulls!”

Jimmy stepped back and lifted his arm to point his crutch behind him, his forearm and bicep subtly
flexing as he did. His arms had become quite strong and defined once he hit puberty. Having to
carrying your own body weight day in and day out does that to a person. It was a favorite activity
of his to challenge people to arm wrestling contests. His friends only fell for it a few times before
they decided they’d rather be his hype men when he set up shop at the food court in the South Park
Mall, attempting to swindle some of the town’s many idiotic adults out of their petty cash.

Kevin zoomed in his Panasonic HC-V770 that he’d received for his birthday past Jimmy and
focused on the human bodies crashing into each other in the distance behind them. The sound of
young men grunting as they hurled themselves at one other rang clear across the field. The Bulls’
star Quarterback, one Stan Marsh, took a few steps back and bounced on the balls of his feet as he
searched for his target. Once he spotted him, he reared his arm back through his shoulder and
launched the ball forward. The ball spun beautifully through the air until it was caught by the
team’s Tight End, Clyde Donovan. Clyde twisted his body around and ran the few remaining yards
into the end zone. An eruption of cheers came from the coaching staff and a handful of loyal fans
peppering the sidelines. Clyde threw the ball into the dirt and ran into the arms of his friend and
teammate, Running Back Token Black. They spun around once before Token placed him down and
smacked Clyde’s ass in the bizarre tradition of the sport.

“Fuck yeah, baby!” Clyde yelled as he ran back to the 50-yard line. “We’re going to make this
season our bitch!”

The three seniors engaged in a jumping group hug in the middle of the field.

“This year, we’re taking the state championship!” Token yelled.

“Yeah! We Bulls are gonna fuck all the other teams in the ass!” Stan added.

Jimmy turned back to the camera, a slightly stunned expression melding uncomfortably with the
pleasant grin of an on-screen television personality. Kevin gave him a similarly awkward look in
return, his nose scrunched up and his lips pursed.

“Sooo…let’s edit that in post, too,” Kevin suggested.

“G-good id-dea.” Jimmy scratched his head. “Okay, so let’s cue in again and we’ll he-head over
there.”

Kevin lifted up his hand, fingers spread out, and put one finger down at a time as he counted
Jimmy back into filming.

“There’s a lot of hype around this season’s team, especially around seniors St-Stan Marsh, Token
Black, and Clyde Donovan. They had a solid season last year, but they’re back now and stronger
than ev-ev-eeh-ever! Can they take the team all the way to the promise land? We can only wait
and watch with bated breath! Let’s go over there and see if we can talk to the star players about
their thoughts! Come on!”

Kevin continued to film a few seconds of B-roll before he paused the recording. The two teens
made their way across the field as the head coach, Mr. McKay, called out for a thirty minute lunch
break. When they arrived at the sideline, their attempt to get close to the three football players was
thwarted when a thick student in a button up shirt and tie stepped in front of them.

“Going somewhere, gentlemen?”

“Eric, dude, cut it out,” Kevin sighed.

“I don’t see your media passes. I can’t just be having anybody try to get close to my players. Who
knows what could happen? You could be crazy stalkers who want to make and wear a suit of their
skin!” The years had not made Cartman any less fond of using hyperbole.

“Da-dammit, Eric! This isn’t fu-fucking Silence of the La-laaa-lambs! We need interviews with
them for the school’s video yearbook and for the f-first issue of Super School News!”

“You need them, huh? Hmm…I think we could negotiate a price for their time.”

“WHAT?” Jimmy and Kevin exclaimed in unison.

“Look, gentlemen, I’m running a business here!”

“No you’re fucking not! You’re just the student team manager! You’re not the fucking owner of a
professional team!” Kevin was livid.

Stan, Token, and Clyde took note of the argument happening near them and made their way over.

“Hey Eric, we got this,” Stan said, patting Cartman on the shoulder.

“If you say so, guys. But if they start eyeing your skin, kick their asses, okay?” Eric marched away
to help hand out water and sandwiches with the coaching staff.

“What’s up, guys?” Stan patted a towel around his collarbone before taking a seat on the bench
beside him.

“We were wondering if we could get some quotes for the first issue for the year and some footage
for the video yearbook,” Jimmy replied.

“Yeah, we’ve got time for that,” Token nodded. He took a seat next to Stan, catching a sandwich
that was tossed at him by Cartman.

“Okay, ready to start filming again, Kev?”

“Yup, ready in five, four, three…” He used his fingers to silently finish the countdown before
pointing to Jimmy.

“Here we are, ladies and gentlemen, with the senior star players of your Park County Bulls football
team! Quarterback Stan Marsh, Running Back Token Black, and Tight End Clyde Donovan!”

Each boy waved at the camera as his name was said, until they reached Clyde who looked at the
camera with a mouthful of turkey sandwich.

“Hhrm?” His eyes widened when he realized that they were filming and he choked down the large
bite. “Oh shit!” He coughed a few times before tossing the sandwich to the side and placing his
hands on his hips. He cocked his head back and winked at the camera. “Hey, what’s going on?”

Jimmy kept up his professional integrity and continued to smile through the awkward comeback.

“So fellas, who’s the captain this season?”

The three boys looked at each other and smiled. “Actually, Jimmy, all three of us are co-captains,”
Token replied. “They usually have two co-captains, but Coach McKay couldn’t decide between the
three of us, so he figured one more captain couldn't hurt.”

“Yeah, especially because we work so well together on and off the field,” Stan added.

“We’re like a well-lubed machine!” Clyde slapped Token on the back as he looked fondly at his
friends.

“Uh…the phrase is usually well-oiled machine, Clyde,” Token laughed.

“Oiled, lubed, either way it means things run smoothly, if you know what I mean.” Clyde gave
another wink to the camera.

“Dude, you do know this will be in the video yearbook that parents will see, yeah?” Stan laughed.
“Oh really? Uh…well…then they’ll definitely know what I mean,” he winked yet again.

“Alrighty, moving on the-then…” Jimmy tried to segue into another question. “How does the
team’s starting lineup look this season, based on what you’ve seen so far during the past week of
preseason training camp?”

“Our defensive line is looking fantastic this year, so far. That was where a lot of our weaknesses
were last year, especially in the playoffs. We did manage to make it to the championship, but our
defense just wasn’t strong enough to hold off Bayfield.” Jimmy nodded as Token spoke.

“That’s definitely true,” Stan continued. “Also a lot of fans were worried that our offensive line
would suffer with the graduation of some of last year’s strongest players, but the people taking
their spots have been working really hard since last season to be the best they can be.”

“Last but not least, there’s us,” Clyde laughed. “I think this will be our year to cement our high
school legacy, how about you, boys? Token broke his personal record for a 50-yard dash over the
summer, so he is ready to grab that ball and shoot down the field like a rocket.” He grabbed his
long-time friend by the shoulders and shook him as he overflowed with excitement. “Stan’s
accuracy with his throws has gotten scary. Like, if there was ever a zombie apocalypse, just give
him all of the grenades and I think we’ll be fine.”

Stan chuckled at his friend before taking lead of the interview. “Then we have this guy right here,”
he pointed his thumb at Clyde. “He spent the last year really hitting the gym and working on
agility training, so you’re going to want to watch out for him. He’s like a freaking army tank with a
Ferrari engine.” Clyde flexed and posed for the camera as Stan handed out the compliments.
“Clyde is a beast when he tackles and a mosquito when he ducks and dodges between the other
players so that he can catch what I send his way.”

“Aww shucks, Stanny, you’re too kind.” He batted his eyelashes playfully.

“That being said, he still loves Taco Bell and Chipotle way too much,” Stan continued.

“Yeah, we can’t seem to get rid of this squishy midsection,” Token agreed, much to the chagrin of
Clyde.

“Hey!” he cried out as his teammates began to poke at his stomach, soon lifting up his practice
jersey to show the camera. “Quit it, dicks!”

Jimmy and Kevin tried their best to not join in with Token and Stan’s laughter, but they couldn't
help letting out a few titters. Jimmy cleared his throat and faced the camera.

“Well, you heard it hear, folks! It sounds like we have quite the season of football to look forward
to. Now, let’s go ch-check in on the students who always know how to get the party started, the
Park County High Cheerleaders!”

“Aaand cut,” Kevin spoke right before pausing the camera. “Uh, thanks guys. That was a very…
interesting interview. I can definitely use a lot of the footage.”

“Please don’t make me look like an idiot, Kev,” Clyde pleaded.

“I can’t promise that.”

“Noooo…!” Clyde flopped down onto the bench next to Stan and picked his sandwich back up.
“Ah well, it doesn’t matter if I look like an idiot or not, I’m still really awesome, so I don’t think it
will fuck up my super school rep.” He took another big bite. “I’m still hot shit.”
Jimmy and Kevin thanked the three young men for their time and headed inside into the school
gymnasium. They were greeted by the sight of fifteen students practicing some tumbling exercises
and lifts on green and white mats. The assistant coach waved them over when she caught sight of
them.

“Do you mind if we get some footage?” Kevin asked.

“Yeah, no problem. Do you want to see their new routine so far?”

“That would be fantaaa…fantastic.”

“Alright everyone, get in formation and let’s take it from the top!”

Kevin set up his tripod and made sure that the entire squad would be in the shot before they began.
Jimmy took his camera out of its bag and snapped a few shots to use in the sports section of this
week’s issue. The front line consisted of all the seniors on the squad. Jimmy waved to Scott
Malkinson, who stood in the center. He had joined during his junior year after he was scouted by
the head coach. The only member at the time who was strong enough to base was Lisa Berger, so
Coach Lahey asked around for who was the strongest student in the school who wasn’t already
involved with another autumn activity. All roads led to Scott. He was hesitant at first, as he’d never
really done any gymnastics before, but he decided to give it a try and it turned out that he was a
natural. The other seniors that made up the front line were Lisa, Red, Bebe, Annie, and Nichole.
They had stayed with cheerleading since elementary school and their level of dedication showed.

Once the routine had finished, Coach Lahey called for a five minute water break. Jimmy waved to
Bebe across the gymnasium floor, who skipped over once she’d grabbed her water bottle from her
pink gym bag.

“Hey, what’s up guys?” she asked before taking a long swig.

“Hey Bebe, you’re all looking really good. I can’t wait for the first game,” said Jimmy.

“Yeah, I think this may be our best squad yet!”

“You say that every year, Bebe!” Nichole laughed from the side.

“Hey girl, I can’t help it if we keep getting more awesome each year,” she winked at Jimmy and
Kevin as she turned back to face them. “So let me guess, you need some quotes and shit for the
newspaper?”

“Bing…bing…bingo.”

“Alright, let me get my best promoter face on.”

She took a moment to gather herself before flipping her hair back, placing her hands on her hips,
and popping her left hip to the side.

“Hey Park County High! It’s your girl Bebe here, and I hope you’re ready to cheer your butts off
this season! The other cheerleaders and I are ready to get you psyched and ready to hear you
scream for your Park County Bulls! I hope to see you there this Friday night at seven! Remember,
if you come wearing school spirit gear, you get twenty-five percent off concessions!”

She stood up straight and immediately went into a back handspring before sliding into a right split.
She held her hands in front of her chest with her index and pinkie fingers sticking out, simulating
bull horns.
“Go Bulls!”

“Wow, that was great, Bebe. Do you think we could edit that into a radio ad or something?” Kevin
asked.

“Sure, that’d be cool.” She rolled through the split and stood up, dusting off her practice shorts. “I
kinda want to spend a year or two being a Bacardi girl once I’m old enough. They make some mad
cash, and I’d be able to just flirt and party with people, then shove vodka at them. If it helps me
pay off my college loans, I think it’d be worth it before I try getting into the actual career world.”

“It sounds like you’ve really thought a lot about this,” Jimmy commented.

“Indeed I have, Jimmy. I’m a woman with a plan.” She picked up her water bottle and took another
drink. “I’ll catch you later in school on Tuesday. We have to keep practicing.”

“Alrighty then. We need to m-move over to the music room now, anywa-ay.”

The two young men gathered their supplies and waved goodbye to the rest of the team as they
walked through the double doors toward the rest of the school. As they traveled down the familiar
hallway, they could hear the sounds of the marching band working on a new piece. Jimmy’s
crutches squeaked on the freshly waxed floor, leaving a few fresh black smudges in their wake.
The faint smell of bleach still lingered in the air. In less than a week, these halls would be filled
with students, new and old, and the scent would quickly change to that of smelly hormonal
teenager.

When they reached the band room, they peeked their head in the doorway and waited for the band
to be cut off by the director, Mr. Bunting. Once the song was cut off and Mr. Bunting lifted his
head toward the door, the entire band turned around to look at the two intruders, almost in unison.
Jimmy and Kevin knew that they were supposed to be in sync as a marching band, but this was
bordering on creepy.

“Can I help you, gentlemen?” Mr. Bunting inquired.

“Uh…we were wondering if we could do a little filming of the band?”

Mr. Bunting rubbed his chin and thought for a moment. “I think it’d be better if you came back
around six tonight. We’ll be heading outside to the field after dinner and that would be a better time
to film. Does that work for you both?”

Jimmy and Kevin nodded and left the doorway.

“You wanna head up to the AV room and order some pizza?” asked Kevin.

“Yeah, we can upload the stuff we got today and I can start wr-writing the article on the football
team.”

A few hours and one sausage and mushroom pizza later, the two students returned outside. They
made their way over to the marching band storage shed, they passed the color guard doing some
warm-up exercises. Butters was counting off as he led the group of students in a set of drop spins.
He gave Jimmy and Kevin a wink and a smile as they walked by, never faltering in keeping time
with the flags. They continued past where the wind instruments were setting up shop, some putting
a few drops of oil into their valves, some messing around with warm-up scales. They saw Heidi
and Kyle chatting and stopped for quick visit.

“Hey Heidi, how was your summer?” Kevin asked, catching her off-guard.

“Mmhm!” She quickly took her clarinet reed out of her mouth and gave him a hug. “It was great.
My family and I took a trip to Spain. It was great! I’ll have to show you all the places I filmed
sometime.”

“I’d like that. So what are you guys playing for your show this year?”

“Some jazz standards,” Kyle jumped in. “Then we’re closing out the halftime show with Stevie
Wonder’s ‘Superstition’. It’s not jazz, but it kicks ass anyway. I’m pretty fucking excited about
these horn parts. Heidi here even has a clarinet solo for Rhapsody in Blue.”

“No shi-shit!? W-way to go, Heidi!” Jimmy cheered.

“Aww geez, thanks guys. Really though, if you want your minds blown, you gotta listen to our
drumline. They are so on point already, it’s insane. You should go check out them out over there
and see if they’ll play this year’s cadence for you.”

“Thanks for the pro-tip, Heidi. We’ll see you around.”

They waved goodbye and headed down the field. They passed Wendy along the way as she was
carrying the drum major pedestal over to the 50-yard line. She nodded and smiled in their direction
instead of waving, as her hands were otherwise occupied. They stopped behind Tweek, who was
currently bent over assisting a freshman adjust their cymbal straps.

“Hey Tweek!” they greeted.

“Ahh! Oh shit!” He stumbled back in surprise and fell onto his butt, causing the freshman to point
and laugh. He looked up at his two peers with his brow furrowed. “Fuck you, both! Don’t fucking
sneak up on me!” He leaned forward to slap them on the legs, but they quickly jumped back. “You
guys are dicks,” he pouted.

“Sorry, Tweek. It’s never not going to be hilarious to freak you out,” Jimmy laughed.

“You won’t be laughing when my fist is shoved up your ass,” he responded.

“Who are you fisting now, Tweek?” A voice echoed from inside the band shed.

“Jimmy and fucking Kevin, if they don’t quit scaring me.”

The young man pulled back his hair into a tiny ponytail. He’d grown it out over the summer, just
enough to pull it back when he wanted it out of his face.

“Of course, you’re making it sound like I fist people all the time, you fucking sicko,” he sneered as
he stood up.

“Well, don’t you?” the voice asked.

Kenny McCormick came out from the shed with his empty snare harness sitting over his bare
shoulders and chest. He had a shit-eating grin on his face. It was one of his favorite things in the
world to tease the guy who’d become one of his best friends over the past year.

Tweek and his parents had disappeared from South Park after the sixth grade, and didn’t show back
up until last year. Tweek Bros coffee had closed suddenly, shocking the entire town, but a grand
“new and improved” re-opening happened shortly after the family moved back. There had been
plenty of rumors flying around - that Tweek had gone to a private school, that he had been in and
out of numerous psychiatric facilities, that he had been in a long-term meth addiction program for
teens. No one was really sure where he’d gone to, and he never spoke of what happened in those
missing years. All anyone knew was that when he returned, he wasn’t quite the Tweek they had
remembered.

The Tweek they saw now almost exclusively dressed in metal band t-shirts and jeans, a far cry
from the poorly buttoned shirts of his youth. He had three helix piercings on his right ear, a ring on
the left side of his bottom lip, and he had bilateral lobe piercings that he had just begun to start
stretching. He still had a look that was routinely unkempt, but now it felt like that was the point
rather than an unintentional accident. He had joined the band on the first day of junior year and
Kenny had been drawn to him immediately after hearing him mess around on the school’s drum
kit. They started hanging out after school and bonding over a love of drumming and an affection
for loud, pulsing rock music.

“No!” Tweek’s hands started shaking and his facial tic became more prominent. “Fuck! I gotta go
have a cigarette before we start warm-ups. I blame you shitheads for this!” He pulled an open pack
from the left pocket of his baggy jeans and stuck a cigarette between his lips. “You want one, K?”
he mumbled.

“Nah, I’m good. I’m trying to cut back some.”

“Suit yourself, man.” The messy haired young man moved to a spot behind the shed, disappearing
from sight.

“So are you guys going to film us working on our sets tonight?” Kenny asked, turning back to
Jimmy and Kevin.

“Yeah. Do you mind if we ask you a few questions before you get too busy?”

He nodded and gestured for them to follow him. He stopped at the bleachers near the closest thirty
yard line and removed his harness, leaning it against his drum case. He opened up the black case
and pulled out his snare drum, flipping it over to start tuning the bottom head.

“Shoot,” he said casually as he began to lightly tap the outer part of the drum head.

“So what can we expect to see from Park County High’s star drummer?”

“Star? Fuck off, man…” Kenny dismissed.

“Kenny. You were chosen to be one of eight snare drummers in a state-wide drumline last year.
You played at Mile High Stadium last year. You’re our school’s fucking star drummer. D-d-de-
deal with it.”

Kenny finished tuning the bottom of the drum and flipped it back over to begin on the top. He
didn’t try too hard to hide his sly grin at Jimmy’s statement. He enjoyed coming off as humble, but
deep down inside, he loved hearing about his many accomplishments in music. Coming from
poverty and being told every day by your family, teachers, and sometimes your peers, that you’ll
never amount to anything…that you’ll just follow in your parent’s footsteps…he loved knowing
that every time he put on that harness, every time he heard a crowd cheer and chant his name, he
was proving them all wrong. He felt he had earned the ability to be a cocky little shit sometimes, at
least while he was still in high school.
“Well, if you insist on calling me that, Jimmy,” he smirked. “You can say that I’m gonna keep
bringing the sexy back to the football field during halftime.”

Jimmy stared at him, slowly blinking. “I’m not writing that, Ken.”

“You’re no fun.”

“This is the school’s newspaper, you kn-know. The principal will have my fu-fu-fucking head if I
were to print that.”

“Really? Aww, well, in that case, just write something about how the drumline is gonna continue
to bring the fun this year, the marching band as a whole is going to be something special, yada
yada.”

Jimmy glared at him.

“Too contrived?” he asked.

“You th-th-think?” Jimmy stammered.

Kenny thought for a moment, then replied with a straight face. “We took state championships in
our division last year, so we have a target on our backs and we know it. From what I’ve seen
during band camp, though, we’re deadly serious about becoming two-time reigning state
champions. Bitches better bow down.”

“That was really good…until the part about bitches. I’ll just edit that out.”

“That’s fine. We all basically decided on the first day of band camp that that was our motto for this
season…so prepare to hear it a lot this year.” Kenny chucked and stood up, now that his drum was
tuned and tightened into place on his harness.

Jimmy and Kevin were about to thank him for his time and head up to the press box, when a
sudden noise caused them all to stop what they were doing.

“It's okay when it's in a three-way…”

“What the fuck?” they almost said in unison.

“It's not gay when it's in a three-way…”

“Hold up, it’s coming from someone’s phone over there.” Kenny leapt up onto the bleachers,
bending over to pick up the ringing mystery phone.

“With a honey in the middle there's some leeway…”

“It says that ‘Black Thunder’ is calling. Seriously, what the fuck.” He swiped to accept the call.
“Uh, hello?”

“Hey, hi! Did you find this phone outside by the bleachers?” the voice on the other end asked.

“Yeah…who’s asking?”

“Great! I’ll be there in a minute!”

The call was dropped and Kenny stared at the phone suspiciously. “Given the ringtone and the call
having been from ‘Black Thunder’, I think we may have found the phone of a gay porn star, you
guys.”

Barely a moment had passed before Clyde was running toward them from across the field. “Hey!
Hey, you lame music nerds the ones who found my phone?” he asked once he was standing
alongside Kenny.

“Maybe. Maybe not.” Kenny wore a look of feigned innocence. “I suppose that depends on how
much you’re willing to pay to get it back.”

“Dude, what the fuck?!” Clyde exclaimed. “You expect me to give you money for my own
fucking phone?”

“It’s the finder’s fee…and how about we throw in another fee for being a stupid jock?”

“Those aren’t fucking things! Just give me my damn phone back, Kenny! Stop being such a
fucking prick!”

Kenny grinned mischievously as he held up Clyde’s phone and dangled it in front of him. Clyde
tried to swipe it out of his hands, but Kenny jumped back out of the way.

“One easy payment of fifty dollars and it can be yours…again.” He was relishing in how upset
Clyde was getting at such childish school yard tactics.

“You know what? Fine. I don’t even need my phone. I can live without it,” said Clyde. He turned
around and started to slowly walk away.

“Doubt it,” laughed Kenny. “What’s with your ringtone, anyway? Unless that’s a custom ringtone
for whoever ‘Black Thunder’ is…in which case, I have several more questions.”

Clyde continued to walk away, not seeming to be fazed by Kenny’s prodding.

“Well then, since it’s my phone now, let’s see if there’s any juicy pics on here. Perhaps some
nudes I can send to everyone in the contact-”

Kenny barely had any time to react as he looked up to see Clyde charging toward hm. The wind
was being knocked out of his lungs as he fell backwards, Clyde’s arms wrapping around his waist
and pulling him down to the ground with a thud. Clyde pried his phone from Kenny’s grasp and
rolled over to the side, quickly picking himself up off the grass. His breathing was tense as he
shoved his phone into his pocket, quickly walking away.

“Asshole…” Clyde muttered to himself.

Kenny sat up and rubbed the back of his neck.

“What the fuck was that all about?!”

Kenny turned his head to the side and saw that Tweek had caught up with them. He had a stunned
look on his face, as did Jimmy and Kevin. That’s when Kenny realized that the field had become
oddly silent. He turned his head in the other direction and realized that the entire band was staring
at him. He jumped up and brushed himself off. Grabbing his harness and placing it back over his
head, he flashed a winning smile at his concerned peers.

“How about we make some music, you guys?”

He leaned over to pick up his drumsticks and made his way over to the warm-up area. Mr. Bunting
 silently mouthed are you okay? at him. Kenny gave him a thumbs up in response. In reality, his
neck and the back of his head was hurting from the impact, but he wasn’t about to let anyone know
that. Tweek and the rest of the drumline followed behind him, getting into position.

“Alright everyone, let’s start with B flat major.” Mr Bunting held his hands up in the air, lifting
them up and dropping them into the first downbeat.

Once the music started, Jimmy and Kevin turned to each other.

“Sooo…” Jimmy started.

“Yeah. That was…weird.”

“D-did you get any of that on camer-r-ra?”

“The whole thing.”

“I mean, it’s not news…but…with the sound taken away, maybe it could be used as B roll?”

“I don’t know, but I’m definitely not deleting it. Worst case scenario, it would be perfect for the
senior video during graduation. Sound included.”

“You’re kind of an evil ge-ge-ge-nius, Kev.”

“Aww, thanks Jim,” Kevin smirked.

They made their way up to the press box, where they spent the next half an hour filming the band
during practice. Once they felt they had enough material, the two collected their equipment and
started the walk back to Kevin’s car. Once the gear was loaded into the back and they were both
comfortably in the front seats, they decided to go grab some milkshakes from Shakey’s.

“Our senior y-year,” Jimmy stated. “Let’s hope it goes out with a bang.”

Chapter End Notes

Song: "3 Way (The Golden Rule)" by The Lonely Island

I've decided to start adding a timeline for each chapter, in the hopes that the passage of
time is more clear. I made my outline by each week of the story, but I don't know if it's
always obvious how much time has passed.

August 30 (before the school year begins)

 I Hate Kenny McCormick
Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Clyde hated the sound of his wake-up alarm. It was one of those grating noises that found a way to
seep into your head, no matter how hard you slept. That was the point, of course, but he hated it
nonetheless. His father had bought it for him since he had typically managed to sleep through all of
the other alarms he tried using over the years. He lazily stuck his hand out, reaching for the snooze
button. He had been having this awesome dream where he was macking on this super hot blonde
chick and he had been this close to sealing the deal when that damn alarm started. He wanted to get
back into that dream, if only for a few minutes. Unfortunately for Clyde, his hand landed on an
empty bedside table. He had forgotten that his father had moved the alarm to the other side of the
room, hoping to put an end to his son's habit of oversleeping and being late for school.

Clyde groaned and reluctantly sat up in bed, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. He threw
his legs over the side of the bed and scanned the room for the source of the alarm. Once he spotted
it on his dresser, he made his way over his bureau and shut it off. Stretching his strong arms above
his head, he yawned and groaned, tilting his head to the side and letting out a small yelp when he
felt his neck crack.

This was it. The first day of senior year. His last year of high school. His last year to make an
impression and really cement his legacy in this town. He had dreams of playing football for a Big
Ten university. Maybe Northwestern? Ohio State? He didn't really care which school, that wasn't
the important part, he just wanted to be a part of the legendary football conference. Plus, who
knew? If he played well enough, he could even get drafted to a professional team, and then he'd be
set for life. He wasn't so naive to think that it was a likely outcome, but he still loved to dream.

He made his way down the hallway into the bathroom. Since it was just him and his dad in the
house nowadays, ever since his sister went off to college two years ago, Clyde didn't bother putting
on pants in the morning when he went to get cleaned up. He stepped into the shower and turned the
water up to the hottest level possible. He loved that burning sensation that was almost at the point
of pain, but just below that threshold. As he frantically lathered his hair, he belted out one of his
mother's favorite songs.

"It's a beautiful mornin'! Ahhh~! I think I'll go outside for a while…and just smile!"

It had become a bit of a morning ritual to sing it as he was getting ready. He and his mother had
had a strained relationship at times, but the years and a lot of reflection had helped Clyde focus
more on the good memories than the bad. There was already enough bad in the world, why should
he add to it with a negative outlook?

Once out of the shower, he brushed his teeth as he waited for the steam to disperse and the mirror
to defog. He quickly lathered up his face with shaving cream and did as thorough a shaving job as
possible, being careful not to cut himself. He would've skipped out and rocked a little bit of scruff
on the first day, but he wanted to be nice and smooth just in case his dream was a premonition and
there was a hot new student who wanted to get down waiting for him at school.

He shuffled back to his room and threw on the clothes he had picked out the night before. He had
to make sure he looked his best for his last first day of high school. It never really mattered what
kind of shirt he wore, however, as his beloved letterman jacket always went over it. Sweet new
kicks tied tight and his school bag flung over his shoulder, he paused for a moment to look himself
over in the full-length mirror. Adults would always say that the four years of high school are the
best in your life. Clyde's had been awesome so far, but deep down he really hoped that those words
weren't true. He didn't want to think this was the best he was ever going to get out of life. No one
wants to feel that they peaked at seventeen. He brushed aside the negative thoughts and raked his
fingers through his thick brown hair. No time to be worrying about that stuff now.

He leapt down the stairs, two at a time, and stopped in the kitchen to grab something for breakfast
before he headed out. Mr. Donovan was sitting at the kitchen table reading the newspaper, a mug
of fresh coffee by his side.

"Good morning, Clyde," he greeted without putting his paper down.

"Morning, dad." He opened the cabinet and his eyes lit up when he found a cookies and cream
flavored protein bar inside. "Score!" he exclaimed as he collected the bar, shoving it into his jacket
pocket.

"Hey Clyde, I'm going to need you to help out with the store tomorrow after school."

"Dad, you know I have practice every day."

"That's fine, just stop by after practice. I only really need help closing. There was a big order of
shoes from the school and I'll just need an extra hand with the transaction. Someone's scheduled to
pick them up right before we close at nine."

"Why so late?" Clyde asked.

"I don't know, son, I don't ask the customers about their personal lives, I just try to accommodate
them the best I can so they'll continue to shop with us."

Clyde shrugged and headed for the door. "I'll be there dad, don't worry."

He climbed into the black 1998 Honda Accord that his dad had let him have when he finally
bought a newer model the previous year. Sure, the car was older than him, but he had grown fond
of it throughout his life, and was proud to be able to call it his own. He still called it by the name
he bestowed on it when he was seven: E. Honda, after one of his favorite characters from Street
Fighter 2. It certainly wasn't a fancy car and it had seen better days, but he didn't care. It gave him
the freedom to go where he wanted to and it got a lot cooler just by him driving it. The fact that it
only had two doors kind of sucked though. It was a bit of a boner killer to try to squeeze himself
and a lady friend into the backseat for some old fashioned fun time in the car.

The drive to school was about twenty minutes. Park County High had been built in Middle Park so
that it was about the same distance whether you were coming from North or South Park. Clyde
didn't mind the drive. It was an opportunity to blast his music and sing at the top of his lungs. He
didn't have a great voice, not by a long shot, but he would sing like his life depended on it. He
flipped through the different top 40 stations programs on the car radio until he found something he
liked.

"Party rock is in the house tonii~iight!"

"Yeah! This is my fucking jam!" Clyde turned the radio up and began to rap along with the song. It
was debatable whether or not his frenzied shouting counted as rap.

He pulled into the school's student parking lot and pulled up alongside Stan's slightly dented
hatchback. He beeped the horn twice to get Stan to pull away from grinding up on Wendy long
enough to acknowledge his presence.
"Get a room!" he called out through the open window.

Wendy leaned over, peeking out from behind Stan. "I don't think people our age really ever use that
phrase!" she laughed.

"Ahh, fuck off, Wendy!"

"Hey! Don't tell my girlfriend to fuck off!" Stan finally turned around to scold his friend.

Wendy shook her head and turned to see Kyle and Heidi walking toward the school entrance. "I'll
see you later at lunch, babe," Wendy said as she kissed Stan on the cheek. She gave a small wave
and ran ahead to meet up with her friends.

"I'm sorry, bro, but does she have to correct me all the time? I'm a loose cannon, I'm not going to
get everything right all the time." Clyde got out of his car, closed the door, and locked it.

"Dude, you're not a loose cannon, but you are a little dumb," Stan laughed.

"Hey! I take offense to that!" he replied, although he was laughing along with Stan.

Once they were in front of the school's main doors, Clyde stopped and took a deep breath.

"What's up, dude?" Stan asked.

"This is a big moment for me."

"Seriously?"

"Yes seriously! This is the last time that I'll walk through these doors on the first day of school. It's
like…the beginning of the end of childhood."

"That's…kind of deep for you."

"I do love to go deep, Stan."

"I'm not sure if you're intentionally making that dirty or if you did it by accident."

"A little of both."

Stan clapped his hand on Clyde's back and they both pulled back on a door before entering the
main lobby. They parted ways once the hall split into different directions. Clyde began to strut
down the hallway as he headed for his locker. He could sense people's heads turning to watch him
and he smiled. He loved being the center of attention. He gave out fist bumps to all of the guys
who greeted him, and when girls said hi to him, he gave them a flirty wink and a finger gun. He
finally made it to his locker, taking a few moments to remember his combination.

"Twenty-seven, four, eighteen."

Clyde jumped at the sudden voice right next to his ear. He turned to his left to find Craig leaning
his back against the other lockers. He stared blankly at Clyde, waiting for him to open the lock.

"A simple hello would've been nice!" Clyde said as he composed himself.

"A simple thank you would've been nice, too," Craig returned in his classic nasally tone.

"Thank you…" Clyde muttered as he filled his locker with extra notebooks and his gym bag.
He pulled a few photos out of his backpack and taped them to the inside of the door. One was of
this season's football team, with Stan, Token, and himself front and center. Another was a photo
from when he and Bebe had dated. It had been taken at Casa Bonita on their first anniversary.
Although things hadn't worked out for them romantically, Bebe still remained one of Clyde's
closest friends, and this was their favorite picture together. As Bebe had so eloquently put it, they
had looked 'fierce as fuck'. The final picture was from Craig's surprise sixteenth birthday party that
Clyde had set up. In it, Clyde had his arm around Craig's shoulders and was pulling him in close,
Clyde with a huge grin on his face and Craig rolling his eyes.

Clyde heard Craig chuckle beside him. "I love that one," he said, pointing to the picture of the two
teens. "It like…perfectly sums up our friendship."

"Hell yeah, dude, that's why I'm putting it up! Whenever I'm having a cruddy day, I take a minute
to look at my favorite people in the world and I remember what's really important."

"Ah, see? Why do you have to go and say sweet shit like that? You're ruining it!" Craig placed his
hands on his stomach, feigning feeling sick.

"You love it, fucker."

Craig rolled his eyes again, smiling. "Wanna have lunch together later?" he asked, slowly walking
backwards.

"Sounds good. See you then!"

Clyde closed the locker door and continued down to the end of the hall, where his homeroom was
located. When he walked into the door, he saw most of the other students had the brand new issue
of Super School News in their hot little hands. He smiled to himself, knowing he was on the front
cover.

"He looks so hot in this photo," he heard one girl whisper to another.

"God yes, he can have me whenever and wherever he wants. I guess I'm going to have to start
going to the football games," the second girl responded.

Clyde's smile grew bigger. The girls didn't look up from the newspaper to look at him, but he
understood. The were so enraptured by his cover photo that they could barely notice anything else
going on around them. He looked around the room for where they had picked up a copy from, and
grabbed one himself once he caught sight of it. He sat down at his desk in the back corner and
grinned as he unfolded the paper. There he was, in colorful glory, making a beautiful catch. His
smile quickly wilted into a scowl as he realized that he wasn't the star of the front page that he
thought he would be. There were two articles on the front page that were formatted to be side by
side, one about the football team and one about the marching band. Right next to his photo was
that of Kenny McCormick, sweaty and shirtless except for his snare drum and harness. Clyde
snarled at the photo. This was blatant favoritism! Kenny's photo looked like it was supposed to be
for some freaking sexy fireman charity calendar! Okay, so maybe that was an exaggeration, as
Kenny would never be able to eat the amount of calories and protein to get truly jacked, but his
smaller frame, the cardio involved with marching, and all of the drums he had to carry had made
his body lean and toned. Clyde wasn't out of shape by any means, but he was constantly aware of
the fact that he didn't have six pack abs. Meanwhile this asshole basically has them, even if they're
a watered down light beer version.

"Did you know he looked like this under all those loose band tees?" the first girl asked.
"Yeah, actually. I know a girl from the Drama Club who hooked up with him a few times last
year," her friend answered.

"Lucky bitch."

"She said he was really good, and that she had wanted to start actually dating him, but when she
asked him, he turned her down. I guess he's just a slut."

"Good to know. I don't want to date the guy, but I do need to add him to my senior year bucket
list."

"Damn, me too."

Clyde crumpled the paper up and stuffed it into his backpack with a look of disdain. He crossed his
arms and pouted, his mind stewing with jealous thoughts. How could Jimmy have made him share
the cover with that douche? The same douche who tried to hustle him out of fifty bucks for his own
fucking phone. Did Jimmy think that Kenny was at the same level as Clyde? Was Kenny really as
popular with the general school population as he was? What the hell did Kenny do to deserve that
level of recognition? He was just a fucking drummer in the marching band. Who cared about
them? People came to football games for the football. During halftime, people just got up to take a
piss or get some snacks…right? That's what he'd always believed, but he was always in the locker
room getting a mid-game pep talk during halftime, so he really didn't know how good the marching
band was or whether people paid attention to them or not. Whatever. It didn't matter. Either way,
this was still bullshit.

Clyde barely paid attention when the homeroom teacher entered and began to take attendance. She
knew the group of kids well enough where she just saw him grumbling to himself in the corner and
checked off his name. Eventually the bell rang and by reflex, Clyde picked up his bag and migrated
to his first class.

By lunchtime, he was still bristling. Craig stared at Clyde as they ate their food by their favorite
tree. Students weren't generally allowed outside during lunch, but the teacher who supervised their
lunch period was a huge fan of the school's football team and would let Clyde get away with small
rule violations. Clyde was chewing his roast beef sandwich rather loudly, and it was beginning to
get on Craig's nerves.

"Okay, you need to cut that shit out. It's annoying."

Clyde swallowed his mouthful and washed it down with a chocolate protein shake. "I'm sorry," he
mumbled.

"What the fuck crawled up your ass since the last time I saw you? You seemed so happy this
morning."

"I was happy! But then that stupid newspaper!" He let out a cry of frustration.

Craig's eyes widened with stunned confusion. "Do you mean Super School News? I read some of it
today. It was pretty good. Your photo on the front page was a good one. You didn't look stupid at
all."

"The front page…" Clyde growled.

"Woah. Okay buddy, you need to give me more information here cause you're acting like you've
been wronged in the worst possible way. I really don't see what was wrong with the picture…"
"Kenny fucking McCormick was on the cover too, Craig! That arrogant asshole!"

"Kenny? Arrogant? I don't know, he always seemed pretty chill to me."

"You're just saying that because you used to have sex with him!"

"Used to? When did I ever say I stopped?"

Clyde's eyes bugged out slightly and his nostrils flared with rising fury.

"Jesus Christ, Clyde! I'm kidding! We haven't hooked up in a long time. Still, he's always been nice
to me. I haven't hung out with him in a while though. After seeing that photo in the newspaper
though, I might see what he's doing this weekend…"

"Craig!"

Craig laughed and ruffled his easily riled up friend's soft brown hair. "You're way too easy to fuck
with, man. And you make it really fun. Has anyone ever told you that you're cute when you're
pissed off?"

Clyde frowned and folded his arms. "No! And I'm not fucking cute! Cute is for puppies! And
chicks don't want to bang a dude who's like a puppy!"

"If you say so. You'd know more about them than I would."

Clyde huffed and took another swig of his shake. "McCormick is always a prick to me. Did I tell
you that he was the one who answered my phone the other day and then tried to get me to pay him
a goddamn finder's fee to get it back?"

"No. But that's pretty funny."

"It's not fucking funny!" Clyde screamed and pounded his fists onto his thighs.

Craig grinned and gently shook his head. "So angry, yet so cute. I just want to pinch your cheeks
and have you sit in my lap."

Clyde stood up with the remainder of his lunch and stomped away back into the school. Craig was
obviously biased toward Kenny and couldn't see the truth about him. He had his 'used to bang'
glasses on, and those could be notoriously blurry. He needed to vent to someone who'd understand.
Someone who enjoyed hearing the latest gossip and liked to talk trash every now and again. He
needed Bebe.

"Based off this photo, I agree with Craig. Ten out of ten, would definitely bang," she said, holding
up the school newspaper in front of her.

"Bebe! Not you, too!" Clyde dropped his head onto his desk before class started. He'd somehow
managed to make it through the rest of the day, and he only had English class to get through before
he could go to practice and try to salvage this horrible day.

"I guess I just don't see what has you so upset, babe. You both look really good! Jimmy managed to
get a clear shot of you in the air while you made the catch. It kind of looks like you're flying. That's
totally cool!"

"I know it's cool, but…"

"But? What's the underlying problem, Clyde?"

"I was supposed to be the star on the front page, Bebe! Just me! Or if it wasn't just me, then me,
Stan, and Token! None of this marching band shirtless Kenny bullshit! I like being the big man on
campus. The one every guy wants to be and every girl wants to take for a test drive, if you know
what I mean."

Bebe shook her head in disbelief. "So…this is just some sort of superiority-inferiority complex
thing? Come on Clyde, I thought you were better than this."

"It's not…I don't…I don't think I'm better than everyone…just…him."

"And why is that?" she asked, resting her chin in her hand.

"Cause he's a fucking douchebag, I don't know!" He rubbed his hands on his face.

"It sounds to me like you need to figure out something that's going to help you get over this." Bebe
glanced up at the front of the class. "I think we're about to start. Are you going to be alright?"

"Yeah…I'll be fine…"

Clyde didn't pay any attention during English class. He appeared to be focused on this year's
syllabus, but in actuality, his mind was fixated on what Bebe had said. You need to figure out
something that's going to help you get over this. Yes. Something that will show who the alpha is in
Park County High. Something that will definitively show that Clyde Donovan is light-years better
than Kenny McCormick. Clyde needed to beat Kenny at his own game.

At the end of class, Bebe lingered next to Clyde's desk. "Do you want to walk down to the locker
rooms together?"

"Yeah. That'd be nice. I have to make a quick stop at my locker first to grab my practice bag."

When they arrived at Clyde's locker, Craig was already waiting for them.

"What are you staying after school for?" Clyde asked.

"We already have an assignment for Studio Art. I'm gonna watch the teams practice and try to
sketch some action shots, since that's my biggest weakness."

"That's cool." Clyde removed his bag, swung it over his shoulder, and closed the locker door.

On the walk to the athletics side of the school, dozens of students complimented Clyde on the
newspaper article. Many of them were female fans who flirtatiously squeezed on his shoulder or
firm bicep as he went by. He gave them a thanks with a wink, but it was half-hearted at best. His
mind was preoccupied with one person and it couldn't seem to fully perceive the affection he was
receiving. They continued down the crowded hallways full of chatting students until they saw a
particular large crowd of women blocking the path up ahead.

"What the hell is going on here?" asked Craig.

"I have no clue," Clyde responded.

As they got closer, they could hear a male voice cutting over the higher pitched female voices.

"Ladies, ladies! There's enough of me to go around, don't you worry about that," the voice laughed.

"Ugh!" Clyde groaned. "What the fuck, move out of the way, please! People are trying to get to
practice on time, thanks!"
 The sea of women split, many turning to see who was trying to get through and fangirling when
they realized that it was Clyde. It was the reaction he would normally love, but he was too upset to
enjoy it. Once the crowd had begun to scatter, Clyde saw who was at the center.

"McCormick," he growled.

"Donovan," Kenny smirked. "Nice photo, by the way."

Clyde grit his teeth. Kenny knew just how to get under his skin. "Stop being a dick, McCormick!
Please move aside so I won't be late!"

"No really! It was actually a nice photo. Also I'm not the one making you late, dude."

"You just can't quit, can you? Fine! We're going to settle this once and for all!"

Everyone standing around Clyde, including Kenny, had confused looks plastered onto their faces.
Clyde dropped his bag onto the floor and pulled open the zipper. He rummaged through until he
found one of his football gloves. Standing back up, glove firmly in his grasp, he marched right up
to Kenny. He looked down at the shorter man, his lips pursed tightly into a frown. He held up the
glove and slapped Kenny with it across his right cheek. The looks of confusion grew bigger as
Clyde stepped back, his head held high and hands firmly on his hips.

"I challenge you to a duel, sir!"

Chapter End Notes

A huge thanks to everyone who has taken the time to read this. An even bigger thanks
for those who's left me a comment, I really appreciate it.

Songs used: "A Beautiful Morning" by The Rascals; "Party Rock Anthem" by
LFMAO

Timeline: September 4 (first day of school year)

 Clyde Donovan is An Idiot
Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Kenny stared at the taller man in front of him, dressed in that stupid fucking letterman jacket. He
raised his left eyebrow in question. He had just been smacked in the face with a smelly football
glove for no apparent reason other than that he might have made Clyde a little late for football
practice.

“What the fuck was that all about?” he asked rather calmly, despite the growing frustration in his
gut. “Are you fucking serious, Donovan? A duel? What are you, from the seventeen hundreds?”

“No, but I got your goddamn attention, didn’t I? Yes. I’m challenging you to a duel, you prick.”
The crowd of female admirers had thinned out completely, leaving Kenny, Clyde, Craig, and Bebe
alone in the empty hallway. “Or if it makes you feel better, a challenge, a bet, whatever the fuck
you want to call it. Something to decide once and for all who the top dog is at this school.”

“Dude, I don’t really give a shit about all that. Also it’s really hilarious that you do care. Let me
guess, you have your satin panties in a bunch because you thought you were going to be the only
one of the front cover of the school newspaper?”

Clyde flinched, not having expected Kenny to read him so accurately.

“I’m going to take that as a yes,” Kenny snickered. “So what is this bet you’re proposing, big
guy?”

Clyde’s lips pursed at Kenny’s statement. He was a big guy, but he always took any reference to
his height and overall large frame as a fat joke, no matter the context. He had worked for a long
time to become healthier and lose a lot of the extra weight that he had carried as a child, but he was
still sensitive to those sort of comments. He leaned down so that he could look Kenny square in the
eyes.

“Obviously it wouldn’t be fair to expect you to try to catch a football or me to play the drums, so I
suggest that we compete on something we’re both good at.”

Kenny smirked and crossed his arms, actually curious about what Clyde had in mind. Before he
could get his answer, however, Tweek came running over to Kenny’s side.

“Hey man, you weren’t in the band room, so I came to look for you.” He looked at Clyde, whose
face was uncomfortably close to Kenny’s, and gave him a hard glare before cracking his knuckles.
“Is there a problem here?” He narrowed his eyes and bit down on his lip ring. He struck a
surprisingly imposing figure despite his small stature.

“Nah, Tweek, no problem. Sorry I took so long. I was stopped by a lot of female fans a few
minutes ago.”

“Of course you fucking were,” Tweek said, rolling his eyes at his friend. “Ready to go then?”

“Yeah.”

Kenny placed his right hand on the small of Tweek’s back as they began to head in the direction of
the band room. He turned to glance behind him and smirked at Clyde, lifting up his left hand over
his shoulder and flipping him off. He could hear Clyde let out an irritated cry as he and Tweek
rounded the corner.

“So…” Tweek began. “Seriously, what the fuck was that all about?” His hands were shoved in the
pockets of his low slung jeans, his sneakers scuffing along the floor making a terrible squeaking
sound.

“I was flirting with a bunch of girls and apparently that pissed off Clyde. He’s jealous, plain and
simple. He’s been the big fucking hero of this school for two years and he feels threatened that I’m
getting a little bit of coverage in the school paper. I mean, Jesus Christ, it’s not like it’s Rolling
Stone magazine or some shit.”

“Granted I haven’t really hung out with Clyde at all since I moved back here, but he always seemed
like a nice dude. Like, I haven’t heard anyone say a bad thing about him…other than I guess he can
be kinda dumb.”

“Kinda? That’s the understatement of the fucking year.” Kenny glanced over at Tweek, then back
in front of him. “And he’s not a nice dude. He’s a jackass.”

Tweek gave Kenny the side eye and smirked. “If you say so. Still, you seem to care more about
him being jealous of you than you want to admit.”

“I’m more entertained by it than anything. It’s really funny to see him so pissed off.”

“Now that seems like something a jackass would say.”

“Hey, who’s friend are you?” Tweek raised his hands up in surrender. He started to grind his teeth,
one of the anxious behaviors he had obtained while he was away from South Park.

“Dude, your jaw,” Kenny pointed out. He sighed and continued. “I guess I’m still on edge since he
slapped me across the face with his freaking football glove.”

“What?” Tweek laughed. “Why the fuck did he do that?!”

“Yup, laugh it up, spaz. He said he challenged me to a duel. A contest of something that we’re both
good at, but he never said what. That’s when you showed up. I guess I’m just waiting for the other
shoe to drop.”

“Maybe it never will. Maybe he’ll wake up tomorrow and be over it. Like you said, it’s a stupid
thing to be jealous over.”

“This is Clyde we’re talking about. He is highly emotional and he doesn’t really let things go. This
isn’t the end.”

They entered the noisy band room and went directly to the drum closet to retrieve their
instruments. Tweek leaned over to Kenny and spoke into his ear. “I think I’m going to need a
cigarette after practice, how about you?”

“Yeah…yeah I could use one today.”

Wisps of silver smoke danced up into the cool night air. Kenny and Tweek were leaning against
the side of Kenny’s banged up truck having yet another rousing discussion on who the greatest
drummers of all time were in between drags. Every other band student had left already and the
parking lot was mostly empty.

“What about Phil Collins?” Tweek asked. “Genesis was pretty cool in a super eighties prog rock
way.”

“Dude, fuck Phil Collins. After he insulted Timmy and played that crap show here when we were
in third grade, he’s on my permanent shit list.” Kenny took a long drag and slowly exhaled as he
scanned the stars above.

“Oh man! I totally forgot about that!”

“‘Land of Confusion’ is still a killer song, though,” Kenny admitted

They stood in silence for a moment before they noticed someone approaching them from the
school entrance. When the figure got close enough, they realized it was Mr. Bunting, their band
director.

“Hey guys, you’re still around?” he asked.

“Uh, yeah! And not at all doing things that are technically still illegal for a few more months…”

Tweek panicked, quickly dropped his cigarette onto the pavement and grinding it with his foot. Mr.
Bunting paid no mind to him as the twitchy tics he’d worked so hard to hide began to rear their
ugly faces. Mr. Bunting was here for Kenny.

“Is this your truck, McCormick?”

“Yessir. She’s old, barely runs, and gets shit mileage, but she’s all mine,” Kenny replied. He
looked fondly at the rusty grey pickup. It was one of his few possessions in this world, and he had
worked his butt off to earn it.

“Great! I was wondering if you could be me a huge favor.”

“Shoot.”

“The shipment of new marching shoes finally came in and they need to be picked up tomorrow
night. My car is unfortunately in the shop right now and the rental they gave me is far too small to
fit them all. I scheduled the pick-up for quarter to nine because I figured it’d be quietest before the
mall closes and the process would be less of a hassle for the store.”

“Yeah, Mr. B, I could do that for you. I’ll be leaving work around then anyway. I can swing over
to the mall before I go home.”

“Excellent! Thank you so much, Kenneth. I really appreciate it.”

Mr. Bunting nodded at the two boys and went off to find his rental car.

“Do you want me to come with you to help?” asked Tweek.

“Nah, I think I’ll be fine.”

Kenny pulled up to the mall entrance and put his truck in park. The lot was pretty empty. It made
sense that not many people would still be shopping this close to nine on a Wednesday night. His
steps echoed as he walked through the barren mall. A small grin sprouted on his face. An empty
mall like this would be a lot of fun to drum in. Sure the sound quality would be terrible given that
the mall is not designed for acoustic purposes, but the idea of filling this entire space with noise
gave him goosebumps.

He rode up the escalator, holding back the intense urge to try riding up the handrail since no one
was around to scold him. He shuffled through the concourse until he reached his destination.

Toe Jams. That was the name of the shoe store. Kenny tittered, trying to cover it with a cough. No
one was around to hear him, but he didn’t want to take the risk of anyone knowing that he thought
the stupid name was kind of funny. Upon entering, he saw that it was empty.

“Hello? Hey, is there anyone in here?

He approached the cash register and hit the bell a few times. Pacing around the front of the store,
he looked at a few of the shoes on display. He could use a new pair of sneakers, but the prices were
absurd. He’d been getting used sneakers from thrift stores his whole life and they were good
enough for him.

He heard a voice approaching him from behind.

“Hi, sorry about that. How can I help you?”

Kenny turned around and his face contorted in disgust.

“Ugh, it’s you. I forgot your dad owned this place,” he groaned.

Clyde rolled his eyes. “I don’t really want to be here either, but I’m doing a favor for my dad.” He
crossed his arms. “What the fuck do you need, dude? Are you going to try to steal some new shoes
for your family or something?”

Kenny narrowed his eyes. “Don’t start with me, Donovan. I’m here to pick up an order for the
marching band. I was told to come here right before close.”

“Oh. That. Wait here…and don’t steal anything.”

Clyde disappeared toward the back of the store, leaving Kenny alone again. “Just for that,
asshole…” he muttered before grabbing a pair of socks off a sidekick display and stuffing them
into his parka pocket.

Clyde left Kenny waiting for a few minutes before he and his father returned with two flatbed hand
trucks stacked with shoe boxes.

“The payment was made in advance, so all you need to do is take the shoes,” Mr. Donovan
explained.

“Good cause Mr. Bunting didn’t give me any money for them and I’m broke,” Kenny laughed.

“That’s not news, dumbass,” Clyde snarked.

“Hey!” Mr. Donovan lightly smacked his son on the back of the head. “Apologize to the customer
and help him load these up. You can go straight home, I’ll close up and finish the books.”

Clyde mumbled something unintelligible, his head facing toward the floor. His father loudly
cleared his throat, an obvious sign to try his apology again. Clyde lifted his head and scowled at a
smirking Kenny.

“I am sorry for my remarks, sir. Please allow me to assist you with your purchase.”

“That’s better. I’ll see you at home, son.”

“Thanks, Mr. D!” Kenny called out, only to turn around and see that Clyde was already quickly
moving down the concourse. “Hey! Wait for me, fucker!”

He moved as quickly as he could without causing the stacks of shoes to fall over. When he finally
caught up with Clyde, he noticed his brow was furrowed and his cheeks were flushed.

“Are you really that pissed?” he asked.

“Yes,” Clyde snarled. “I’m super embarrassed by my dad when he’s in full on business mode,
AND I’m pissed that he forced me to apologize to your stupid face.”

“Hey man, I’m sorry. It’s all in good fun.”

Clyde stopped abruptly and turned to Kenny to present him with his middle finger. “You can shove
this up your ass, McCormick.”

“So how are we getting these to the ground level, anyway?” Kenny asked, dropping the issue and
changing the subject.

“Freight elevator.” Clyde pointed up ahead at a dimly lit narrow hallway that branched off the
main concourse.

Upon reaching their destination, Clyde fiddled with the keys to work the elevator. Once inside, the
massive door closed with a thud and the elevator began its excruciatingly slow decent. They stood
in uncomfortable silence. Neither one wanted to be in there with the other. Kenny thought about
how it would be just his luck if the elevator were to suddenly break down and they were stuck in
there together the entire night. One of them would probably end up dead by the end of that
scenario. That or they’d end up having sex with each other, but the death thing seemed more likely.
He leaned against the wall and began to drum his fingers against the hard surface. The sounds
echoed within the metal chamber. The longer it went on, the more he got into it and the louder it
became.

“Will you stop that?!”

Kenny abruptly stopped his drumming for a moment. He stared into Clyde’s deep brown eyes and
started to drum again, this time slapping the walls loudly with the palms of his hands. The elevator
granted mercy on the two young men as it finally reached the first floor. Clyde grabbed his cart
and bolted out, eager to get this over and done. Kenny followed, having to walk faster than Clyde
in order to keep up with his long strides.

“That’s your truck over there, right?” Clyde asked as soon as they walked through the main
entrance.

“Yeah.”

They approached the vehicle and Kenny put a foot on one of the back tires, hoisting himself up and
over the side into the truck bed. He reached out his arm toward Clyde and motioned for him to start
handing up the boxes. The sound of fingers against thin cardboard and the creaking of the truck as
Kenny moved around filled the night air. There was an unspoken tension building between the two
of them as they worked.

“So this ‘duel’ you mentioned,” Kenny said, breaking the tension and the silence. “Jesus Christ, I
don't even know why I’m asking this…” He sighed before continuing. “What exactly did you have
in mind?”

“Oh, now you’re interested?” Clyde paused in the middle of handing Kenny a shoebox, pulling it
away from his grasp.

“Look, just fucking tell me what your idea was, okay?” Kenny reached forward and grabbed the
box from Clyde. “Quit trying to be coy.”

“Like I had said yesterday…it has to be something we’re both good at to make things fair.” Clyde
held up another three boxes.

“Stands to reason,” Kenny replied as he took them and placed them down.

“So I challenge you to a fuck-off.”

Kenny turned and faced Clyde, his hands placed on his hips. “I get why you want a piece of this,
but uh, you’re not really my type.”

“Goddammit, McCormick! I mean we see who can fuck the most people in a semester! By winter
break, whoever has had more unique partners wins. Done. Easy.”

“What about cheating? Like how will I be able to know that you’re not lying? You’d probably try
saying you had foursomes every weekend!”

Clyde sighed and returned to handing Kenny the shoeboxes. “We’ll get two people to be our
seconds. Two people we trust to keep track of our scores-” Clyde let out a short chuckle at his lame
pun “-and keep us honest. I have someone in mind already, and I’ll let you pick the other one. If
you’re really serious about this, how about we meet somewhere tomorrow night and we can
discuss the rules so we’re both in agreement.”

“That’s not a lot of time to find someone, but fine. Tweek Bros at seven then.”

“Why Tweek Bros?”

“I feel comfortable there. Also if you piss me off, I’ll have Tweek throw hot coffee in your face.”

“I hate you, McCormick.”

“Trust me, the feeling is mutual.”

Kenny never needed an alarm to wake up for school. No matter how late he stayed up, he always
woke up in his bed at six in the morning. It was a curse, of sorts. As much as he always wished he
could sleep in, his body never seemed to grant him that courtesy. Still, it had its benefits, as it
allowed him to get ready and assist Karen with getting ready for school. As a fourteen year old
freshman in high school, one would think that she wouldn’t need much assistance with getting
ready, but she had the amazing ability to sleep through every alarm known to humankind.

Kenny blinked his eyes open, squinting at the beam of morning sunlight that seemed to be aiming
directly at his eyes like it was purposely trying to piss him off. He groaned as he kicked off his thin
blanket and sat up, the springs of his ancient bed frame squeaking under the shifting weight. He
yawned and scratched his messy blond hair, deciding that it was in need of a washing. He dragged
himself out of his room and to the bathroom, carefully stepping over the sleeping bodies of his
mother and father. They had gotten into it again last night, but thankfully they had both passed out
before any real damage could be done.

Kenny looked at himself in the slightly cracked mirror. He smiled at himself, rubbing his tongue
on the slight gap between his two front teeth. It’d always bothered him growing up, but he never
admitted to it. Why bother complaining about something he knew his family couldn’t afford to fix?
He didn’t mind it nowadays, as girls seemed to think it was cute. So did boys.

He moved to turn on the shower faucet, only to find that only a few sad drips of water came out
when it was supposed to be on full blast. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. Of course
his parents hadn’t paid the water bill this month. He had told his dad to put the money aside for the
monthly bills when he came home with the cash he’d received from working under the table for a
local contractor, but clearly Stuart either hadn’t listened or didn’t care. Kenny decided he’d just
have to sneak into the boys locker room at some point during the school day to get his shower. He
trudged back to his room, this time not caring as much if he woke up the entire household.

Now dressed in old torn up jeans and a Zildjian t-shirt he’d gotten for free, he grabbed his things
for school and went to wake up Karen. He had a few ways that he liked to wake her, but his
favorite was tickling her feet whenever they were stuck out from under her blanket. The action
simultaneously made her giggle uncontrollable and made her furious. He felt it was the perfect big
brother thing to do. Karen woke up with a fit of laughter and kicks in Kenny’s general direction.

Once Karen was ready to go, they jumped into Kenny’s truck and, after several attempts to get the
engine started, drove to school. Their trips to and from school were one of Kenny’s favorite times
of the day. He didn’t get to see Karen nearly as much as he’d like now that they were older, due to
marching band, his part-time job, and the fact that she was eager to join the art club. The drive to
school was his time to hear about what was going on in her life - her problems, her successes, her
friends. He typically stayed on the quieter side, listening and letting her talk animatedly about
anything and everything. She had started to become attracted to other people over the summer, and
today’s discussion was about how cute everyone was in high school.

“And Kenny! Kenny! Have you noticed how pretty all the cheerleaders are? They’re all like
goddesses! I saw some of the pictures in the school newspaper and it’s unreal! I wish I could be as
pretty as they are!”

“You are beautiful, Karen,” he replied, briefly turning his head to smile at her.

“You have to say that because I’m your sister!” she scoffed, rolling her eyes.

“That’s not big brother law. I don’t have to say it.”

“Wait…there are big brother laws?” Karen’s eyes widened in bewilderment.

Kenny laughed at his sister, who still had some of her naiveté from childhood. “No, that’s not
actually a thing. I’m just sayin’ that I’m not complimenting you because I have to. I truly think that
you are becoming a beautiful young woman and I want you to believe that yourself someday.”

“You must have bad eyesight then cause I’ve seen myself in the mirror, Kenny.”

“Nah, that’s puberty you’re seeing, and it’s a bitch.”

“Anyway! Your photo in the paper was pretty cool, too! All of my friends were telling me how
lucky I am to have a hot brother, but that’s just gross! You know who is hot though? That Clyde
guy. He’s, like, really good at football, isn’t he? I can’t wait to go to the game on Friday! I bet his
butt looks really good in his uniform!”

Kenny bit his bottom lip and kept his mouth shut. He wasn’t going to let his feelings get in the
way of being a good sibling.

“By the way, didn’t you guys used to be really good friends? I haven’t seen you hang out with him
in a really long time.”

Kenny sighed deeply. “Yeah. We were. Let’s just say we have a…” He ran his tongue across his
upper teeth while he tried to find the right words to not worry her. “…strained relationship
nowadays.”

“What happened?”

“Hey, when did our drives become the ‘Let’s grill Kenny’ hour? Can’t a guy have some secrets?”

“Fine, fine. Geez, why do you feel the need to be so mysterious sometimes? It doesn't make you
any cooler.” She playfully stuck her tongue out at him, and he reciprocated.

They arrived at the school, managing to pull into a parking space moments before the engine
stalled.

Fourth period was Kenny’s haven. Jazz band. It took place right after lunch, not that he ever really
ate anything, and it split up his day. He got to spend the period hanging out with Tweek and
trading off on the drum kit between songs. Whenever he was able to sit on that low stool, the balls
of his feet resting on the drum pedals, slender wooden sticks between his fingers, he went into a
state of pure bliss. When he played, his mind was only focused on the music. Any bullshit from
school or home disappeared during those moments, only returning once the bell rung. Sometimes
he’d get so wrapped up in the music that Tweek would have to shake his shoulder to get his
attention when it was time to switch.

Today was one of those times.

“Hey. Hey K. Hey asshole!” Tweek laughed as he frantically shook Kenny’s shoulder. “Snap out
of whatever fucking trance you’re in!”

“Huh? Oh shit, sorry man.”

He slid off of the stool and sat in the chair that Tweek had been sitting in. From their perch off to
the side of the band room, Kenny could look out at his peers. He enjoyed watching the rest of the
band play when it was Tweek’s turn on the drums. He had never really gotten to know a lot of the
other players on a strong personal level, but he had superficially friendly relationships with all of
them. Kenny liked to keep his close friendships few and nurture them so they’ll last, rather than
have dozens of casual friendships that will most likely vanish as soon as graduation ends. Other
than Tweek, he really only had two other solid friendships in the jazz band.

Kyle was sitting with near perfect performance posture, wailing on his trumpet during a
particularly feisty section of the song they were sight-reading. Of course he was sitting with
performance posture. He was still a bit pretentious about some things now that he was older, this
 being one of them. Thankfully he had never broken out into a speech about the benefits of good
posture to Kenny when he caught him slouching. Kyle didn’t break out into speeches much ever
since the entire town called him out on it back in fourth grade. He tried to save them for things of
extreme importance.

Heidi was sitting a few chairs down, struggling a bit with the sight-reading on her trombone. She
had picked up the instrument for the first time last spring and she was still getting the hang of it.
She had wanted to join the jazz band for her senior year, but they traditionally didn’t take clarinets
as most arrangements didn’t call for them. She learned trombone on the suggestion of Mr. Bunting,
who had given her a few free lessons to get started. After that, she had learned by teaching herself.
It was fairly impressive. Kenny never understood how people could remember all those fingerings
and positions and whatnot.

Kenny stared at the two of them. Would they make good allies in this stupid contest? Would
Kenny be able to rely on them to get him dirt on Clyde and make sure that bastard wasn’t lying
about the people he hooked up with? Probably not. Kyle would roll his eyes at the whole thing,
which Kenny didn’t blame him for, and he’d probably spend the entire time telling Kenny how
stupid of an idea it is. He was out. Heidi would probably be a good confidant, but she would never
agree to something like this. She wasn’t really a fan of hook-up culture and she had told Kenny
once that she wanted to wait to lose her virginity until she was in a really serious relationship. He
often wondered why she was even friends with him, but she had explained that she didn’t care if
others engaged in casual intimacy, but it wasn’t for her. Kenny had had to hide his laughter at the
word intimacy. There was rarely anything intimate about his trysts.

Kenny returned his gaze to the drum set as the song completed. Tweek was spinning his
drumsticks between his long, slender fingers - a trick that Kenny had taught him, but he had
perfected. Tweek was Kenny’s closest companion and Kenny knew that he could trust him, but…
Kenny’s brain went immediately to the sheer amount of stress and anxiety that such a request
would create for Tweek. He wasn’t about to do that to his friend.

After class, Kenny wandered the hallway to his next class. He didn't want to show up to Tweek
Bros tonight without anyone by his side. As stupid has this whole thing was, he wasn’t about to
give Clyde the upper hand right out of the gate. He nodded to his old childhood friends as he
passed them by, considering each for the important position. Jimmy? Nah, he’d probably use the
whole experience as source material for his stand-up routine. Wendy? She’d just tell him how this
contest was just another example of the patriarchy and male privilege since guys aren’t called sluts
if they have a lot of sex. She’d be right, but he really didn’t want to deal with that all semester.
Maybe Butters? He’s a trustworthy friend…but he’s also a virgin and Kenny wasn’t about to sully
Butters’ innocence by making him a part of this. Finding someone to be his second was proving to
be more difficult than he’d thought.

Kenny entered the classroom for his fifth period and his eyes finally fell on the perfect candidate.
He sat down at the desk next to them and explained everything. The person face palmed, but
ultimately agreed to help. Yes. This was perfect.

Kenny couldn't wait to see the expression on Clyde’s stupid face.

Chapter End Notes

Timeline: September 4-6

 So We're Doing This Then?
Chapter Notes

Thank you to @flojo-jojo on tumblr for the fanart of metalhead Tweek! I love him!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Clyde and Bebe strolled along the sidewalk as they headed downtown. It was a fairly clear night.
The perfect kind of weather for a pleasant stroll with friends. However, this was no time for a
casual stroll with your best female friend. This was a time for business, and Clyde was a man on a
mission.

“Remind me again why I let you drag me into this nonsense?”

“It’s not nonsense, Bebe. This is something that will affect the entire course of history!” said
Clyde.

“Don’t you think that’s awfully hyperbolic?” asked Bebe.

“Haha, nice try, Bebe. That’s not even a real word!”

Bebe pursed her lips together to contain her laughter. She sighed. “Okay then, remind me again
why I’m your friend?”

“Because I’m cute,” he replied with a charming smile.

“Dammit, you got me there,” she smiled back, reaching up to ruffle his hair. He gladly leaned over
so that she could do so.

They stopped in front of Tweek Bros, checking out the new design. The entire storefront was made
of glass, which radiated an open, inviting atmosphere, but did little for the privacy of the patrons
inside. The fluorescent lights inside were bright enough to light up a good chunk of the street. They
both squinted their eyes while peering inside. Kenny had not arrived yet.

“You know, I haven’t actually visited this place since it re-opened,” Clyde admitted.

“Really? Their coffee tastes a lot better now. I never liked it here before. It tasted…weird. I usually
just went to Harbucks,” said Bebe.

Clyde opened the glass door for Bebe and smiled as he bowed slightly at the waist. “After you,
m’lady.” He gestured to the open door with his free hand.

“You’re such a nerd,” she laughed. “If only all of your adoring fans could see you right now.”

“Don’t say that, Bebe! My status is already on the decline!”

She sighed, but kept her mouth shut. It was useless to try to tell Clyde that his concerns about his
‘status’ were all in his head.

Walking through the open door, they could hear the faint strains of what sounded like the singing
of Michael Bolton. Tweek was facing the back wall, wiping down the equipment. He had a pair of
bluetooth earbuds dangling from his ears, the muffled sound of pounding drums and screeching
guitars coming from within. Bebe raised an eyebrow in his direction. She had never been close to
Tweek when they were children, and she had never really interacted with him since he moved
back. Still, she never would have expected this sort of behavior from him. In elementary school he
seemed spastic and perhaps a bit disturbed, but now he seemed…kind of cool. It was amazing how
much someone could change in a few years.

Clyde came up from behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders. “Does he know we’re
here?”

“I don’t think so. He obviously can’t hear us through the music.”

“I’d yell to get his attention, but I don’t want to piss him off. McCormick threatened that he’d get
Tweek to throw hot coffee in my face. I’m not willing to take that risk. I’m cute, but not cute
enough to survive a full face burn.”

Bebe shook her head. “So you’re saying you want me to get his attention?”

“Yes. That is what I am saying.”

“You’re lucky I love you, dork.” She took a deep breath and yelled as loudly as she could.
“TWEEK!”

Tweek popped one of the buds out of his ear and turned around, nodding his head when he saw
Clyde and Bebe.
“Oh hey, sorry about that.”

He reached into his apron and pulled out his phone, pausing the music, then depositing it and the
earbuds back into the pouch.

“Are you allowed to listen to headphones while you work?” asked Bebe.

“Nah, but it’s what keeps me from going apeshit on everyone. If you had to listen to this every
night,” he pointed up at the speaker on the ceiling above his head, “you’d go crazy, too. The
owners picked out the songs on the house mix.”

“Aren’t the owners your parents?” Clyde asked, confused.

“It hasn’t been confirmed yet that I’m not adopted. So what can I get for you?”

Clyde ordered a hot chocolate, Bebe a skinny cappuccino, and the pair moved to a spot in the far
corner of the room. They were going to be discussing highly sensitive information. If word of
Clyde and Kenny’s competition got out, it would be the end of it. No one would want to have sex
with them if they knew it was just for points in a silly contest.

It was only a couple minutes before Kenny pushed through the glass door, alone. He stopped at the
counter and quietly spoke to Tweek for a moment, never turning back to look at their table. Clyde
then noticed through the glass storefront that Craig passing by the cafe.

“Hey, it’s Craig!” he said, smiling and pointing outside. “I wonder where he’s going.”

Clyde didn't have to wait long for an answer. Craig stopped at the door and hesitated briefly before
opening it and walking inside.

“Hi Craig!” Clyde called out cheerfully.

It sure was a coincidence that his best friend decided to come out to Tweek Bros on a Thursday
night at the same time that Clyde was going to be meeting with Kenny and his second.

Craig didn’t respond. Instead, he approached Kenny and gave him a nod. Kenny turned to Craig
and smiled. He placed his right hand on the small of Craig’s back and the two began to walk to the
back table, a devious grin plastered across Kenny’s face. Craig, although often difficult to read,
looked clearly sheepish. He couldn’t even look his best friend in the eyes. Clyde didn’t realize what
this all meant until they were halfway across the room.

“JUDAS!” Clyde yelled, jumping up from his seat and pointing his finger at Craig.

“Clyde, sit down. You’re being overly dramatic,” Bebe sighed. She tugged at his jacket, trying to
pull him back down.

“I‘m sorry, dude. I don’t even really know what this shit is about, but I knew you’d be pissed,”
Craig mumbled. He pulled out a chair and plopped himself in it.

“Then why did you agree to help this jackass?” Clyde whined, finally returning to his seat.

“Kenny said he needed help with a project he was working on that involved you, but he promised it
wasn’t anything bad, and then…then he looked at me that way with those fucking blue eyes and he
bit his lower lip and…” Craig looked away and shifted in his chair.

“Dammit Craig! Stop thinking with your dick!” exclaimed Clyde.

“Isn’t this whole stupid contest about thinking with your dicks?” Bebe snidely remarked, her chin
resting in her hand.

“No!” Kenny and Clyde yelled simultaneously.

“This is about proving who is the number one guy in the school!” Clyde shouted.

“This is about crushing Donovan at his own stupid game so that he leaves me the fuck alone,” said
Kenny.

“Can someone just explain what the fuck this is about, please?” Craig sighed.

“I challenged Kenny to a semester long contest to see who can have sex with the most people.”
Clyde crossed his arms and had a proud look on his face.

Craig stared blankly at his friend. “You’re kidding, right? Please be kidding.”

“They’re not,” Bebe muttered.

“So why are you dragging me and Bebe into this?”

“We need two people to be the score-keepers and to keep us honest. Who’s to say that McCormick
won’t just say that he had sex with three people over the weekend? How can we know that he’s not
a liar?” Clyde explained.

“That’s right,” Kenny continued. “Bebe, you have your finger on the pulse of girl culture at the
school. You always know the latest gossip and how to see through the bullshit. So if Donovan says
he had an orgy with the girl’s soccer team, you will be able to prove that he’s lying. My sexy friend
here,” Craig sunk lower into his chair, “has the sharpest gay-dar I’ve ever seen. Not that I’d lie
about who I have sex with, but for transparency’s sake, Craig can be able to tell if a guy has slept
with me. He knows what it feels like the next morning.”

Kenny grinned. Craig blushed. Clyde gagged. Bebe wanted to know the details.

“Hey assholes, your drinks are here!”

Tweek placed down a circular tray with four ceramic mugs on it. He handed Clyde and Bebe their
orders, then placed two lattes in front of Kenny and Craig. Craig looked up at Tweek, his cheeks
still tinted rose.

“I didn’t order whatever the fuck this is,” he remarked.

“Yeah, I know. Kenny ordered for you. He’s a dick like that.” He smiled at his friend.

Craig looked down at the hot creamy beverage. There was a heart drawn into the thin layer of
white foam.

“What’s with this gay looking heart?” Craig asked, eyebrow raised.

“I’ve been trying out latte art as a way to pass the time around here,” Tweek answered.

Craig glanced at the top of Kenny’s drink before his friend grabbed the mug and took a sip.

“Kenny’s didn’t have a heart.”

“That’s cause I only do it for cute people. I’d never bother doing it for this fucker’s buttface.”

Tweek grinned at Kenny, who smiled back. Kenny then kissed his open palm, curled his fingers
under his chin, and flicked them out toward Tweek while blowing the kiss. Tweek caught the kiss
in his hand, then smacked his hand onto his ass. Both friends chuckled before Tweek quickly
turned back to Craig. He found him slouched down into his chair, tugging on his chullo so that it
covered his eyes. The deep blue color of the hat really brought out the rich pink that had freshly
settled in Craig’s cheeks. Tweek picked up the empty tray and slipped it under his arm. He clapped
his free hand on Craig’s shoulder.

“Anyway, I hope you like the latte, cutie,” he said, turning to head back to the counter.

Kenny couldn’t stop laughing at Craig’s embarrassed posture. Even Clyde and Bebe were amused
by the whole scene.
“Somebody has a crush on Cra~aig!” Clyde and Bebe sang in unison.

“Fuck. You. All,” Craig mumbled.

“Sorry about him, man. Since he moved back, he doesn’t really filter his opinions. It’s both really
cool and really annoying. Don’t really think anything of it, though. He tells people they’re cute all
the time.” He took another sip of his latte, wiping his lips once he placed the cup back on the table.
“You should really take a sip though, Tweek makes a mean latte.”

“Alright!” Clyde slammed his palm down on the table, startling Craig out of his funk. “Let’s get
down to brass tacks!”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Bebe asked, puzzled.

“I have no clue. I think I heard my dad say it once. The point is, let’s finish figuring this shit out.”

“I agree,” Kenny interrupted. “I don’t want to hang around your idiocy too long. I’m already
starting to feel my brain cells begin to die off.”

Clyde grimaced at Kenny, but continued. “So starting tomorrow, and continuing until the last day
of this semester, we keep track of how many people we fuck. One point per unique person. No
having sex with the same person four times and trying to get four points out of it.”

“I won’t have to resort to such low tactics, but that’s a reasonable rule,” Kenny agreed.

“Once a week, we meet back here…I’m thinking Sunday mornings. At that time, we’ll go over the
current scores so that we know where we stand. The last thing I’d want is to not realize I was
losing until the very end.”

“That’s fine. I’ll get much pleasure from rubbing your face in all the sex I have.” Kenny grinned
suggestively at Clyde, trying to get a rise out of him. It worked.

Clyde rolled his eyes and scoffed. “In your dreams, little drummer boy! I’m going to get so much
pussy, you’ll start to wonder where it’s all coming from!”

“That’s a good point you bring up, Clyde. Here’s a rule. Only people who go to our school count.
No taking a trip to Denver and trying to bang people there. No trying to nail a cheerleader from the
visiting team after a game.”

“Dammit, post-game is usually when I get my best pulls,” Clyde pouted.

Kenny thought back to the comments that Karen had made about Clyde earlier that day. His eyes
narrowed. “And let’s keep it to juniors and seniors only. No freshmen.”

“Yeah, of course, dude. Seniors hitting on freshmen freaks me the fuck out.”

“So are you guys finally done squabbling over this shit?” Craig sighed. He looked at the clock on
his cell phone and groaned. “I still have an art assignment to finish, you know.”

“Yeah, we’re pretty much done, I think. McCormick?” said Clyde.

“Yeah. Sounds good,” Kenny agreed. “So we meet here in three days?”

“Nah, make it the Sunday after. I don’t want it to be too sad for you when you’re still at zero come
Sunday and I’m up by, like, two,” said Clyde.
“Yeah, yeah, keep talking a big game. It’ll be even funnier when I wreck you.”

The four students stood up from their chairs. Craig took one last sip of his cold latte, placing the
empty mug down with the rest, before joining the others at the counter. Clyde offered to pay for all
of the drinks, stating that it was only right since it was his idea for everyone to get together. Kenny
suspected it was actually because he wanted to show of that he was Mister Moneybags and could
afford a twelve dollar tab. They all thanked Tweek before headed out the door.

Craig lingered behind in the doorway for a moment. He turned his head back toward the counter,
eyes glued to the floor.

“Uh…thanks dude. For the drink. It was good.”

He let the door close loudly behind him. Tweek pulled his earbuds out when he heard the door
thud close, but when he turned around, Craig was already out of sight.

The hallways of the school were brimming with excitement on Friday morning. Students and
teachers alike were eager to get through the school day so that they could enjoy the first game of
the season. The football team wore their jerseys to school and the cheerleaders had on their full
uniforms, as was Park County High tradition. The marching band was also wearing matching t-
shirts they had designed to look like jerseys on the back, with the performer’s last name above the
year, which served as their uniform number. The front had the marching band’s logo faded behind
‘3BD’ in bold font. It was only ten in the morning, and Kenny was already tired of being asked
what the hell is 3BD?

“It’s the band’s motto for this season,” he droned.

“That’s a fucking dumb motto, Kenny! It doesn’t even mean anything!” replied an exacerbated
Cartman.

“Actually, it says 38D. That’s the band’s favorite cup size. We just…we just really love big full
titties, Eric,” Kenny added in a sarcastic tone.

“…Seriously? Even the chicks?”

“Yup. Even the chicks.” Kenny yawned, barely having the energy to keep the conversation going.

“I knew it! All girls are secretly lesbians!” Cartman announced loudly as he finally took his seat.
The girls in the class let out a collective groan at his asinine comment.

“H-hey Kenny!” Jimmy called out as he entered the room. “N-nice shirt! I see you all figured out a
way to get your catchph-phrase past the man.”

“I know right? Kyle thought it up. He can sometimes be pretentious about how smart he is, but
damn, he can use those smarts to be a devious mastermind when he needs to. The Pussy Crusher
can’t object to three innocent letters, right? He doesn’t need to know it stands for ‘Bitches better
bow down’.”

“Let’s hope he never finds out. I don’t th-think we need another assembly about how the w-word
‘bow’ is a microaggression to Japanese-Americans…”

“And to think that was all because the drama teacher told the cast to bow during the curtain call of
The Tempest last year. Dude.”

Kenny shook his head and slouched down into his seat. English was one of the only classes he
really enjoyed, other than band, of course. He wasn't interested in reading the so-called classics.
He'd read Catcher in the Rye in elementary school and it totally sucked. The other books on the
high school reading list weren't any better. Rather, what Kenny loved was the creative writing. He
excelled at it. He used it as a platform for writing poetry. Well, not so much poetry as song lyrics,
not that he had any music to go along with them yet. He put up with all of the other aspects of the
class, doing well enough to get by, so that he could really express himself when it was time.

The teacher droned on about The Canterbury Tales, and Kenny had to start drumming his pencil
against his notebook to stay awake. He turned his head to look out the window when he noticed
that Red was staring at him from two rows over. He raised an eyebrow at her and turned back to
the front. That was odd. She'd never really paid attention to him before, and they only ever
interacted when it was required for a class. She had been on the cheerleading squad all through
high school and they all tended to hang out with the football team. The marching band was sort of
isolated from that social scene, even though they were the third part of the game day triad.

He returned his glance to the side a moment later and caught her twirling her hair with her fingers.
The bright green nail polish she chose for game day popped against her fiery strands. She turned to
look over at him once more and caught him looking. She smiled and winked.

She must be flirting because of the band camp photo. Why else would she be pursuing him now? It
didn't really matter, though. Red was hot. Plus Kenny would be lying if he said he hadn't taken
notice to how her cheerleading uniform fit her body just right when she walked into class. He had
half a mind to drop his notebook near her as the class was leaving and see if she'd bend over to pick
it up. He only had half a mind because he also wanted to keep some mystery for later.

His phone vibrated in the pocket of his jeans. Kenny smirked as he pulled it out and swiped open
his screen. A text from Red. He turned to look back at her. She was leering at him with a
suggestive smile and biting her finger. At the rate this was going, he could have his first point by
the end of the night. Eat your fucking heart out, Clyde.

Hey. Nice pic the other day

Thx

How did you get my number?

Not that I mind. ;)

You’re a popular guy.

Your number gets around

Just like you

Kenny smirked at the comment. It was certainly true that he tasted the many flavors available at
the school, and he wasn’t ashamed of it. Still, the comment lingered in the back of his mind,
nagging at him. Did people see him only in that way? Despite all of his other talents and attributes,
was that the only thing he was going to be known for? Fortunately, another buzz of his phone
shook him out of his head.

Excited for the first game?

 Yeah

Excited to see that skirt of yours in

motion

Kenny peeked over at Red and winked when he caught her eye. She flashed him a coquettish smile
and bit her lip. The classic lip bite. From Kenny’s experience, that was usually a clear sign that
someone was interested.

Hey, can you stay for a moment after class ends?

I was wondering if you’d walk me to my next class

There’s something I want to ask you

Yeah okay

Now you got me all curious

and not just about what’s under that

skirt ;)

Red covered the side of her face with her hand so that Kenny couldn’t see her blush. His first point
was so close he could almost taste it. He quietly chuckled to himself. He placed the phone down on
his desk and leaned back in his seat, arms folded behind his head in triumph.

The bell finally rung. Kenny leaned over to stuff his notebook and folders into his backpack. He
saw a lovely pair of legs appear in front of him as he was zippering the bag shut. His eyes scanned
up Red’s legs and that’s when he realized just how close his face was to the front of her skirt. He
swallowed hard. His eyes continued to travel up her body until they locked with hers.

“Hey,” he said, giving her a cocky half-smirk.

“Hey,” she said back, clutching her notebooks to her chest.

Kenny wasn’t sure if this was how Red always carried her belongings, or if she had chosen to not
put her books in her backpack, instead using them to hide her chest from him. It was probably the
former. Still, Red knew how to be a tease in all the right ways, whether intentional or not.

“Ready to go?” she asked.

“Yeah.”

They made their way down the hallway, Kenny headed in the direction of his next class. He had no
idea where Red’s next class was, but it didn’t seem like she really cared. She simply followed by
his side.

“So I was wondering,” Red began. “Are you busy later tonight after the game? Like around ten?”

Kenny glanced over at her. “Nah, I didn’t have any plans. Why, what’s up?”

“The football team and the cheerleaders have a party every season after the first game. It’s, like, a
tradition, you know? Anyway, it’s supposed to be just for us, but we can invite other people as our
date. It’s just that typically most of the guys on the team are dating the girls in the squad or they
don’t bring a date because they only intend to get wasted and pass out. That’s why it’s kinda weird
to see someone from another group there.”
She stopped walked for a moment. Her eyes were focused down on the tiled floor, and all the
confidence she had earlier suddenly seemed far away.

“So…I was wondering if you’d want to come with me? I…I think we could have a lot of fun
together.”

Her eyes then slowly fluttered up to meet Kenny’s, and she gave him a look that would have had
him throwing her over his shoulder and carrying her into the nearest janitor’s closet if she had said
the word.

“Fuck yeah, we’ll have fun together,” he muttered under his breath. “Uh, yeah. That sounds pretty
cool. Where is it?”

“Stan’s house. One of the co-captains always hosts and Stan offered.”

“Really? You do mean Stan Marsh, right? He offered to host? How the hell did that happen?”

“He’s the only one with an empty house tonight. I think his parents may have intentionally planned
that, if you ask me. In order to raise Stan’s cool points. Not that he needs them. He’s a cool guy.”

“Yeah, he’s still a pretty good dude.”

When they turned the corner, they saw Stan and Clyde chatting by Stan’s locker.

“Hey, speak of the fucking devil,” Kenny laughed.

Kenny and Red came up behind them and Kenny slapped his old friend on the shoulder.

“Cool jersey there, Stan,” he said as Stan turned around.

“Oh hey, Ken! Thanks! Your shirt is…cool, too? I don’t get it, though,” Stan replied.

“Ask Wendy. Or better yet, ask Kyle,” he grinned. “They can tell you all about it.”

Kenny noticed Stan’s facial expression shift to a look of concern, but it passed by quickly and he
didn’t think anything of it.

“Anyway, Mister Quarterback, I’ll leave you to your rabid fans.”

Kenny finally acknowledged Clyde’s presence, making eye contact with him for just a moment on
the word fans. He wrapped his arm around Red’s waist, his hand resting on her hip.

“I’ll see you later tonight, Stan,” he added, his voiced laced with just a hint of intrigue.

As he and Red resumed walking down the hallway, Stan turned to Clyde.

“What do you think that was all about?” Stan asked.

“I dunno. Maybe he meant he’s going to see you at the football game tonight. That’d make sense,”
said Clyde.

“Yeah, probably.”

Clyde stared at Kenny’s back as he walked away. He watched as Kenny turned his head to the side,
licked his index finger, and held it in the air. Kenny quickly glanced over his shoulder to make
sure that Clyde was watching. Clyde clearly got the message. A lead ball formed in the pit of his
 stomach. Dammit. Kenny was good. Real good. This wasn’t going to be nearly as easy as he had
thought.

Chapter End Notes

Timeline: September 6-7

 Are You Ready For Some Football?
Chapter Summary

It's game day! The gang's all here for this one. Football, marching band performances,
cheerleaders, Craig and Tricia keeping a very excited Karen in check, the science
nerds, and introducing Billy the Bull. This chapter jumps around to different
perspectives.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

The atmosphere around the Park County High football field was electric. The sound of excited high
schoolers preparing for the first football game of the season filled the air, mixing with the sound of
the growing crowd in the stands.

On the practice field directly behind the field house, the marching band students milled about in
small groups, making idle chatter before warm-ups were called. Off to the side, Wendy was
helping Heidi tune her clarinet to make sure it was ready for her solo. Heidi was feeling the
pressure that night, as her solo opened the entire show.

"Heidi, you sound fantastic. I know you know that deep down in your heart. You're just letting
those annoying jitters of being in front of a crowd get to you. Take some deep breaths and try to
pretend you're playing for empty bleachers, like at practice. I'll cue you to begin, but then it's all
you, babe! I know you got this!"

Wendy rubbed her hands on Heidi's shoulders, trying to relax her tense muscles. It was awfully
difficult through the thick fabric of the marching band outfits, but the intention was there. The
symbolic action did actually help ease Heidi's nerves.

"Thanks, Wendy. I know this music like the back of my hand, which is why it's so frustrating that I
feel so nervous!" Heidi bit her lip and nodded her head. "I'm gonna go practice some scales with
the other clarinets. When do you think you're going to call full band warm-ups?"

"In about ten minutes," said Wendy.

Heidi thanked her and ran off over to the rest of her section. She passed Kyle, who was
approaching Wendy. They exchanged friendly smiles. Wendy turned to Kyle as he walked up to
her and noticed that his shako was slightly askew.

"Hey Wendy!" he called out.

"Good evening, Mr. Broflovski!" She made a large regal bow, giggling as she stood back up.

"Dammit Wendy, don't call me that. It makes me sound like I'm my fucking father," Kyle groaned.
"I swear, once I turn eighteen I'm going to change my last name. I never want anyone to associate
me with him or his internet trolling bullshittery. I can only hope that none of the colleges I apply to
try Googling me, or then I am royally fucked."

"Woah. I didn't expect all of that," she said, her eyes wide. "Duly noted."
"I'm sorry. You didn't deserve that. It's just been on my mind lately with application season getting
closer." Kyle sighed. "Anyway, you look great in your drum major uniform." A smile spread
across his lightly freckled face.

"It's just the regular uniform but with a cape over the left shoulder," she laughed. "But thank you.
You look great, too. Except…" She took a step toward him and lifted her hands up to his face. "…
Your shako is a bit off. Let me fix that for you."

"It's because of my stupid Jew fro hair. I should just cut it all off already."

"Aww, I love your hair. It's so fluffy and full of life." Wendy smiled. She gently pushed a piece of
hair out of Kyle's face before she put her hands down.

Inside the locker rooms attached to the field house, the football team was standing together in a a
mass of bodies. The three co-captains were standing in the open doorway that led to the practice
field. They were facing their fellow teammates, giving one final pep talk before the game began.
Stan looked out toward the marching band kids gathered on the practice field, clearly distracted.

"Stan? Stan! Dude!"

Clyde grabbed Stan's shoulder pad and wiggled it back and forth. Stan snapped out of his trance.

"Huh?" he asked.

"Do you have anything to add?" Clyde repeated.

"Uh…yeah. Aspen's defense is weak this season, but their offense is pretty strong. I know our
defensive line can block them though. Let's hit hard and play smart, guys! Go Bulls!"

"Go Bulls!" the team yelled back.

Clyde and Token brought Stan aside for a moment once the team stood up and began their final
warm-ups.

"So…about that whole staring off into the middle distance thing," Token began.

"What do you mean?" asked Stan.

"Bro, you were totally giving the band geeks this death glare or something," said Clyde. "Are you
sure your okay?"

"Yeah…yeah," replied Stan. "I was just, uh, staring at Wendy. She gets to debut as drum major
tonight, and she looks perfect. I'm so proud of her. She wanted that spot so badly."

Token and Clyde looked over at the band. Wendy stood on the podium, leading the full band in
warm-up scales.

"The quarterback and the drum major. You two are like the school's fucking power couple, my
man." Clyde grinned and slapped Stan on the back in a congratulatory manner.

"Hey! What about me and Nichole?" Token added, laughing.

"You're the hottest couple at the school. You only get one couple title, Black Thunder."

"Jesus Christ, Clyde. You really need to stop calling me that." Token rubbed his forehead and
shook his head at his friend.
"Aww, why? I told you that you could call me White Lightning!"

"That doesn't make it better. Dammit, I'll explain it to you again later tonight," Token sighed.

"Wooo!" Karen screamed, her fists high in the air.

"Nothing is even happening right now, Karen," Tricia laughed, shaking her head.

"Don't even bother, Tricia. Kenny warned me that she was going to be like this," Craig said flatly.

"I've been looking forward to this all summer, you guys! My first real high school football game!"

She let out a few more whoops, hoping to get some of the other fans in her general vicinity to join
in. They did not.

"Kenny's been in the marching band for the last three years. You never went to a game to watch
him at all during that time?" Craig asked.

"I think I went to one his freshman year. Our parents were there that night, too. And they were
sober. It was nice. Never happened again, though, and I didn't really have a way to get here by
myself. I was, like, eleven, Craig."

"You always could have come with us!" said Tricia. "I never knew it was something you wanted to
do, or I would've invited you all the times we came to games." She looked genuinely disappointed
in herself.

"It's okay. I was still pretty shy back then, so I wouldn't have tried to ask. Also, your brother totally
intimidated me back then. I was kinda scared of him. But now I know he's a big nerd and there's
nothing to be afraid of!" Karen leaned into Craig's side and nuzzled him with her cheek. "Isn't that
right, Craig old pal!"

Craig glared at her and gave her head a gentle nudge with his elbow. "Hey kiddo, just because
you're Kenny's sister and you're in the art club with me doesn't mean you can snuggle me like I'm
some fucking teddy bear."

"You are so a teddy bear!" Karen beamed. "Put down your barriers, Craig! Let the love in!" Karen
leaned back into Craig.

Tricia turned to her brother and smirked. "Makes you appreciate having me as your little sister a
bit, yeah?"

"Yes. Yes it does," he replied.

"WOO! FOOTBALL!"

The Park County cheerleaders stood scattered around the outside of the locker rooms, next to the
inflatable blast tunnel that the Class of 2015 had gifted to the school upon graduation. Scott, Lisa,
and a few others were working on warming up their muscles for all of the lifting they were going to
be doing. The rest of the squad was doing some final stretches. Bebe finished up her own
stretching, grabbed her pom poms, and motioned for the group to circle up.

"This is it, everyone. First game of the year. You've all worked really hard since camp this
summer. Everyone has improved so much since last year. I'd like to specifically call out our boy
Scott as the most improved. Let's give him a hand!"

"Thanks, Bebe. You've all been so nice and accepting of me. Even with my diabetes," Scott
beamed as his peers applauded him.

"Why would your diabetes matter, babe?" Lisa asked, putting her arm around her friend's
shoulders.

"It wouldn't, would it? I still have to remind myself that it doesn't make me a bad person. Growing
up, it was kind of drilled into my head by my friends."

"Your friends are assholes," Annie stated plainly. "And seriously, I will never understand men."

"I guess it's a good thing you like girls then, huh?" Red winked.

"You're damn right," Annie laughed.

"Alright everyone, are you ready?" Bebe yelled.

"Yeah!" they all called back in response.

"I didn't quite hear you. I asked, are you fucking ready?!"

"YEAH!"

"Then let's head out and work this crowd into a motherfucking frenzy!" Bebe cheered.

The cheerleaders ran out onto the field, raising their arms high, pompoms rustling in the air. Scott
ran out with a large green cheerleading megaphone, painted with the Park County Bulls logo. Some
of them did a few hand springs and cartwheels as they approached their spot in front of the crowd.

"Wooo! Yeah, Park County Cheerleaders!" Karen jumped up and down in the bleachers as they
took their position.

"You're going to do this for everything tonight, aren't you?" Tricia laughed at her friend.

"Hell yes! I'm so excited, and the cheerleaders are so precious! Just look at them! I want to draw
them all in fabulous clothing. With flower crowns! And, and angel wings!"

"You know Karen, sometimes I wish I had your energy and personality," admitted Tricia. She
snuck her hands into the sleeves of her sweatshirt. It was still hot during the day, but the September
night air was beginning to cool.

"You're perfect just the way you are, Trish!" Karen beamed. She wrapped her arms around Tricia
and squeezed tightly.

"Hey, over there. It looks like the band is lined up to come out," Craig said, pointing toward the
field house.

Wendy stood in front of the band. Everyone was in block formation, six people across. The
drumline led the band, followed by the color guard, with the winds bringing up the rear. Kenny
marched in the front line with the rest of the snares, his spot being the one closest to the crowd. He
held hit one drumstick onto the snare—one (two) three (four) one (two three four)—keeping time
as the band marched out onto the field. Craig found Kenny and pointed him out to Karen. She
jumped back out of her seat and startled a few of the other fans.
"KENNY! KENNY! YOU'RE SO AWESOME, I LOVE YOU! WOO!"

Kenny had a serious look on his face when he first entered the field, but once he heard Karen
screaming from the stands, he broke into a goofy grin. He turned his head slightly to glance up into
the stands. He caught sight of Karen flailing her arms around like an inflatable tube person and
winked at her. He seriously had the best sister in the world.

Craig cracked a small smile as he watched Kenny and Karen interact. His eyes scanned through the
rest of the band as they passed by and moved into position for the national anthem. When he
spotted Tweek in the fourth line, he subconsciously began to tug at the strings of his chullo. The
small action didn't get past Tricia.

"Who is it?" she asked.

"Huh?"

"Who do you like?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said.

"Your hands. You only pull on the strings like that when you're around someone you like. So who
is it?"

"I don't do that," he said quickly, dropping his hands to his thighs.

"Is it Kenny again? I thought you were over him."

"Yup, it's Kenny," Craig quickly responded. He wasn't sure what he was feeling, but he wasn't
about to talk about it with Tricia during a high school football game.

Tricia looked at him with doubt in her eyes. "Okay. Well…be careful this time. You fall hard, and
you're a major bummer when you're sad, so I hope it works out for you."

The band finally came to a halt in front of the podium. Wendy climbed up on top of it and took a
deep breath. She raised her hands and the band raised their instruments. The announcer welcomed
the crowd to the beginning of the 2018 season and introduced the Park County Bulls as Wendy
counted in the band. As soon as the first notes hit, Stan, Clyde, and Token burst through the tunnel,
the rest of the football team at their heels. The crowd roared in appreciation as they came running
out onto the field. Billy the Bull, the Park County mascot, came lumbering onto the field behind
the team.

The team stood in two lines and the announcer asked for the crowd to stand for the national
anthem. When the band finished the final note, Wendy cut them off and placed her hands down.
The band followed, lowering their instruments. The band was told at ease, and the student made
their way to the reserved section of the stands.

Clyde, Stan, and Token moved toward the 50-yard line to meet Aspen High's two captains. The ref
tossed the coin and the visitors won the toss, choosing to receive. As the two teams moved into
position for kick off, Billy the Bull positioned himself next to the cheerleaders. He tried to follow
along with their moves, failing comically, much to the amusement of the crowd.

The majority of the marching band was finally settled into their spots. Wendy stood on the ground
in front of the stands, ready to bring the band to attention for a pep song on any important plays.
The drumline sat in the second row, their drums sitting in front of them on the first row. Naturally,
Tweek and Kenny say next to each other. The color guard made their way up the stands, being the
last to leave the field after laying their equipment on the sideline. As Butters walked by, Kenny
caught his attention.

"Hey Butters! The color guard costumes look pretty fucking sweet!"

"Thanks, Ken!" Butters eyes lit up at the compliment. "Kelly and I designed them together over the
summer! She had to pull me back a bit, though. I wanted them to be entirely covered in sequins and
glitter. I wanted to sparkle like a diamond on the field!"

"You already do, my friend," Kenny laughed.

"Aw gee whiz, you're so kind! Ooh! Another thing about the costumes! Kelly and I figured out a
way to make the pants so that everyone's buns look great!

Butters turned around and wiggled his ass a little, trying to make his point. He glanced over his
shoulder back at Kenny and Tweek.

"See?!" he said. His eyes were full of sincerity and zero hidden intention.

Kenny stared at Butters' spandex-clad ass and smiled. He leaned forward, a lascivious grin on his
face.

"Damn, you're right. Seriously, Butters. When are you going to let me wreck that fine ass of
yours?" he asked.

"Oh Ken, you're so silly!" he blushed. "Anyway, I'll chat with you later! I need to tell you all about
my summer with the drum corps!"

Butters scurried off up to the top of the bleachers. Tweek turned to Kenny, his eyebrows raised.

"And you wonder why people say you'll fuck anything with a pulse," he said.

"I like what I like. And haters gonna hate, I guess," Kenny replied with a shrug.

"But the more important piece of information from that fucking weird exchange…Butters was in
drum corps?"

"Yeah man. He turned seventeen just in time to audition. He got into the freaking Blue Devils, too
dude. He's really good. Have you ever watched him spin?"

"Oh yeah. Of course I have. I watch him all the time while I'm marching backwards in front of you,
holding out my cymbals so you can sound cooler." Tweek rolled his eyes.

"Fine, bitch. Be that way," Kenny grinned. "Well, if you ever get the chance to watch him, do. He's
a natural performer."

As the first quarter ticked down, the Bulls managed to score a touchdown thanks to Stan's arm and
Token's legs. The band played an abbreviated version of the school's fight song amidst the cheers
of the crowd. As the second quarter began, other members of the drumline began to comment on
the team's defense this year.

"Donovan's been making some great blocks so far tonight," said a drummer on quads.

"Yeah. I think he's faster this year, too," said one on bass drum. "Is it just me or is he lighter on his
feet?"
Kenny sighed and rolled his eyes. "Give me a break. He's not lighter. He eats at freaking Taco Bell
all the time."

"Maybe so. Still, he's kicking some major ass tonight."

"Of course Donovan's good at standing in the way of shit. He would make a better wall than a
door. Fucking idiot," Kenny mumbled under his breath.

When the second quarter was about halfway complete, the band made their way out of the stands
and over to the practice field for some fine tuning before halftime.

"Oh, the band is moving! Does this mean it's almost halftime?" Karen asked.

Craig nodded and Karen beamed.

"Oh good. We didn't miss it," a mechanical sounding voice spoke behind them.

Craig turned around to see Timmy, Kevin, and Jimmy approaching from the concession stands.
Craig watched as Timmy's hands moved and his computer began to speak again.

"Hey Craig!" the computerized voice spoke. "Timmy!" the actual Timmy joyously added.

"Y-yeah! What's shakin', b-b-bacon?" Jimmy chimed in.

"Hey guys. Why are you just now showing up? Are you trying to be fashionably late or
something?" Craig smirked.

"No. We were just stuck in the computer lab until just recently because of this jerk." Kevin pointed
his thumb at Timmy. "Timmy Neutron, Boy Genius here isn't satisfied just being the smartest kid
in whole darn school. He's not satisfied developing software that can read is hand movements and
vocal inflections and translate what he wants to say. No, no. That's not good enough. His digital
voice needs to be perfect."

Kevin took a long side of his fountain soda. It was like he hadn't had a drink in hours.

"Timmy, k-kinda held us hostage until he picked the perfect vocal tone. He said he needed
something se-se-sehhhxy so he can pick up chicks."

"Timmy!" Craig scolded. "What the fuck, dude?"

Timmy shrugged. "Timmy…" "What can I say, Craig? I still have the body of a twelve year old. I
wanted the voice of a distinguished 35 year old man."

"Anyway, would it be cool if we sat here with you? There aren't many places where his wheelchair
can go," Kevin asked.

"Yeah sure. I like you guys. You're generally not assholes."

"Thanks, Craig. That's the highest T-Tucker praise."

The second quarter ended 17-14, with Aspen leading over Park County. The team trudged off the
field to a smattering of applause from the crowd, punctuated by some cries of 'You guys can turn
this around in the second half!' and 'It ain't over till it's over, boys!' It was obvious that the players
were already feeling defeated. At the previous year's first game, they had entered halftime up by
fourteen points. Now they were down by three. It wasn't a great way to start the season.
Stan pulled off his helmet and threw it against the wall as soon as he entered the locker room. His
action spoke for the entire team. They all grabbed a water bottle and gathered around Coach
McKay. He pulled his headset down around his neck and paced back and forth. It was eerily quiet
in the locker room. So quiet that every player could hear the sound of Coach McKay scratching his
neatly groomed salt and pepper beard as he thought of what to say.

"The game's not over, men. We may be down, but it's only by three points. We can come back from
this, easily. As long as we don't let ourselves get defeated mentally. The moment we believe it's all
over in here-"

He pointed to his heart.

"-and here-"

He then pointed to his temple.

"-we're done. To be honest, our defense has been sloppy tonight. I know you're all capable of
pushing back against this team. We just need to tighten up that defense, just a little. Once we do
that, I don't think they'll be able to score again tonight. What do you say, men?!"

"Yeah!" the team cheered.

"I can't hear you! I said, what do you say, men?!"

"YEAH!"

"Then let's go out there and kick Aspen's ass!"

The boys cheered loudly, smacking each other on the helmet and shoulder pads to get themselves
riled up. They finished their waters and moved back into position to enter the field for the second
half. Unfortunately for them, Coach McKay's speech hadn't taken very long and the marching band
was still performing. Stan stood on the balls of his feet, straining his neck in an attempt to get a
better view of Wendy conducting. He grabbed Clyde's arm and pulled him close.

"Hey. Clyde. Sneak over under the bleachers with me to watch the band."

"What? No! Why the hell would I do that? I don't give a shit about the band," Clyde said. He tried
to yank his arm back from Stan's clutches.

"Don't be a dick, dude. Come on! We'll get back in time." Stan squeezed his hand around Clyde's
wrist and tugged.

Clyde sighed and snuck out of the doors with Stan. They made sure to stay in the shadows as they
scurried over to and underneath the bleachers. As they navigated between the beams and supports
in the dark, they smelled tobacco and saw the faint glow of burning cigarettes.

"The goth kids actually came to a game?" Clyde muttered to Stan.

"We can like football, too, poser," Pete said from the shadows.

"And if you ever speak of this to anyone, I'll gauge your fucking eyes out with a melon baller,"
Henrietta added for good measure.

Clyde and Stan held up their hands as they quietly moved by and toward the chain link fence that
protected the bleachers from the field. Stan grabbed ahold of the chain link and looked up at
Wendy as she was taking a bow and holding her hand out to present the band to the audience. They
had just finished a song.

"I think we missed it," Stan whispered to Clyde, clearly disappointed.

"Nah dude, there's like like six minutes on the board for halftime."

Wendy lifted up her hands and counted in the band one last time. The entire band let out a
loud Woo! before they scattered around the field into a new formation as the drumline began the
opening beats of "Superstition". The drums moved forward toward the sideline while the rest of
the band grouped into a tight box behind them, the color guard spread out behind them.

Clyde found Kenny in the drumline immediately. He radiated smugness and overconfidence while
he played. It also helped that he was in the center of the snares and standing on the fifty yard line
right in front of Wendy. The drumline began to sidestep, swaying to the tempo of the song. Kenny's
face was beaming. He looked like he was having an amazing time performing, and that was
something that even Clyde couldn't deny. For a moment, Clyde was almost hypnotized by the
precise movements of Kenny's wrists, but how the rest of his arms barely moved. Then suddenly
the snares leaned back and made large sweeping arm motions. Kenny was less leaning back and
more doing pelvic thrusts in the air with his drum as he hit the rim. It was disgusting and vulgar,
and definitely not cool at all. Cha-ka-cha-ka-chakata-cha! Clyde swore that Kenny was looking
straight at him when he was doing it and he felt an uncomfortable sensation in his stomach.
Thankfully he then noticed that Red was standing in the line of sight between them and that Kenny
was aiming his drum thrusts at her. The uncomfortable sensation changed to nausea.

The rimshots led right into a drumroll as the band behind them held one final blaring note. The
crowd above Stan and Clyde lost their goddamn minds. They were so loud and boisterous that
Clyde actually took his eyes off the band and looked up, even though he couldn't see anything. A
large hand suddenly touched Clyde's shoulder.

"Ahh!" he cried, spinning around.

It was Token.

"You guys gotta come back, like really quick," he said.

Clyde pried Stan off of the fence and the three of them ran back underneath the bleachers, past the
goth kids, and through the shadows to the rest of the team.

"I didn't get to see much, but the band looked like they were tearing it up," Token commented on
the way back.

"Feh," Clyde scoffed. "They were, like, whatever." He'd die before he'd admit that he had found
them kinda sorta a tiny bit entertaining.

The band marched off of the field to the drum cadence and moments later, the football team ran
back out to begin the second half. Karen was bouncing in her seat, still giddy from the
performance. Jimmy and Kevin sat next to Craig, and Timmy sat in the wheelchair accessible
space next to them. When Aspen's mascot came around to the home side from the visitors side, it
got the boys chatting.

"What the fuck is their mascot? Is that…? Is that a fucking skier?" Craig said.

The mascot came plodding over with skis strapped to their feet, two ski poles, and ski goggles on.
"Well…I mean, they are Aspen. That's kinda what they're known for, right?" said Kevin.

"God, that's so lame though. I'll take Billy the Bull over…what? Chad the Giant Douche?" said
Craig.

"Sp-speaking of Billy, looks like he agrees with you about Ch-Chad," Jimmy said as he pointed
down to the field.

Billy the Bull marched right up to the Aspen Skier and started to shimmy his shoulders at him. He
then spun around and started to twerk against the Aspen mascot's hip. The crowd roared with
laughter at the ridiculous antics.

"So tell me. How the hell does Cartman get away with doing this sort of stuff as our mascot?"
Craig asked.

"The crowd loves it," Timmy responded. "I think PC Principal and the rest of faculty decided that
they'd let the cruder stuff slide because the fans like it. I think they also let some of his…more
colorful statements at school slide because he helps bring in money. People are seriously willing to
pay five dollars to take a selfie with him.

"That was Cartman's idea, wasn't it?" asked Craig.

"Who else's would it have been?" said Kevin. "He's a hateful, arrogant idiot, but he's really good at
making money. He's going make a great business man someday."

"Lord h-help us all."

The fourth quarter neared completion and the score was 24-21. There were only two minutes left
on the clock and the tension in the air was palpable. For a team with so much hype and potential
going into the first game, it would sour the entire season if they were to lose. Stan called for a
timeout. It was the last one that the Bulls had available for the game, so it was important to make
the most of it. The team huddled up in the middle of the field. Token wiped sweat from his brow.
Clyde slapped Stan on the back. Stan was silent for a while, his mind racing, before he finally
explained his last ditch plan.

The band was itching in their seats. It was always unsettling to perform the school fight song at the
end of the game when the team lost. They had been spoiled the previous year, having been able to
celebrate and feel the excitement from the football team winning nearly every game.

Tweek nervously bit his nails. Kenny crossed his arms, feeling the dread like everyone else, but
trying to not show it. If the team lost, he could use it as fodder to mock Clyde, so it wouldn't be a
total waste. Still, it would be pretty fucking cool if the team was able to go to the championships
again and go all the way this time. It'd be a nice way to cap off his senior year with the band,
getting to go to Denver and perform at Mile High Stadium.

The referee blew their whistle and the team scattered back into position. The clock began to tick
down once again. Stan made the call to begin the play, the players dashing off in different
directions. Stan looked down the field, taking a few steps back. He watched Clyde dodge one of
Aspen's players and run into an open area at the ten-yard line. Stan launched the ball into the air. It
spun toward Clyde's open hands, but suddenly one of Aspen's players broke through and charged
forward. Clyde jumped up to catch the football right as his opponent leapt forward to tackle him.
His arms stretched out and he was just able to grab the ball in his hands before he was dragged to
the ground. The two players both landed in the end zone. The ball was firmly clutched to Clyde's
chest. The referees held up their hands in the air.
The stands erupted in cheers. Students and adults alike were jumping out of their seats. The band
sprung to their feet and immediately began to play the school's fight song. Clyde climbed up off of
the ground and theatrically threw the football down into the turf. He ran into the open arms of
Token. Token lifted him up and spun him around once before they were both tackle hugged by
Stan. The song completed and the team quickly regrouped to attempt the goal kick.

Kenny sat back down in his seat. He watched as Clyde made his way into position. He shook his
head in disbelief.

"Damn…that was a good catch," he whispered under his breath.

Tweek turned to look at Kenny and smirked.

"Pretty good, right?" he said. "There is a reason he acts like Mr. Big Dick Football Prick all the
time, you know. He backs that shit up on the field. It's honestly pretty fucking impressive, if you
ask me."

"Whatever. I still don't like him. He's a fucking tool. And I didn't ask you, Tweek."

Tweek shoved a middle finger into his face and Kenny leaned in to kiss it.

"Aww, you're so sweet, giving me such a lovely gift!" Kenny laughed.

The field goal attempt was good, leaving the score 28-24 in Park County's favor as the clock
finally ran out. The crowd cheered. The band played the fight song one last time. The two teams
left the field, filing into their respective locker rooms.

"Kenny!" Karen yelled as she ran up to her brother and wrapped her arms around his waist.

"You were so cool!"

Kenny laughed and smiled, hugging her back. "Thanks Karen. I'm glad you enjoyed our show. We
have a lot to work on, but I thought it was pretty good tonight. We're only going to get better."

Kenny looked up to see Craig and Tricia in the doorway of the band room.

"Hey guys," he smiled.

He finished putting away his equipment and joined them in the hallway. The sound of the girls'
locker room door opening echoed down the hallway, the voices of the cheerleaders flooding out
into the open space. Kenny turned his head toward the noise, spotting Red as she finally emerged,
her duffle in hand.

"Hey Craig," Kenny asked as he continued to stare. "Could you do me a huge favor and give Karen
a ride? I'm not going home quite yet. I've got some, uh, work to do, if you know what I mean."

Kenny looked back at Craig and winked. Craig nodded his head, allowing Kenny to head down the
hallway to meet up with Red.

Craig rolled his eyes at Kenny's back. "Ugh, straight people," he quietly groaned.

"Hey, I heard that!" Kenny spun around, walking backward. "You know full well I'm not fuckin'
straight! Don't make me come back over there and spank you!" He grinned and turned back
around.
 Craig laughed and a faint blush rose into his cheeks. Tricia shook her head and sighed.

"I'm scarred forever now. Thanks, bro."

They watched as Kenny approached Red and slipped both of his hands around her waist, pulling
him ever-so-slightly closer to him. Red wrapped her arms around his neck. One of his hands slowly
slid down over her hip and onto her bare thigh. His fingertips snuck underneath the hem of her
skirt, gently stroking her smooth skin.

"My previous statement still stands," Craig said, rolling his eyes once more. "Let's go before they
start making out."

"Good idea," Tricia agreed.

Karen's reaction to her brother's roaming hands would never be discovered, as she had her nose
buried in her phone. Technology was so cool. The game had only ended a short while ago and
Instagram was already flooded with great shots. She swiped from photo to photo as she followed
along behind her friends. She stopped on one photo in particular that made her smile extra wide—
Clyde making the game's winning touchdown. Looking at it gave her a funny feeling, but she liked
it. Karen glanced up to make sure no one was looking, then saved the photo to her phone.

Chapter End Notes

Timeline: September 7
 I Came Out to Have a Good Time, and I'm Honestly Feeling So Attacked
Right Now
Chapter Summary

It's party time! Everyone is over Stan's house, including one Kenny McCormick. This
does not make Clyde very happy. Clyde pouts in the shadows while Kenny gets his
dance on with the cheerleaders. After getting a talking to by Bebe, Clyde finally takes
initiative, and an impromptu dance-off ensues.

Chapter Notes

Sorry that it's been about a month since I last updated this. Real life stressors plus I
had a one-shot I had to write for a gift event meant that it took a while to get this
chapter started. If you're still reading, I thank you and appreciate you! Hopefully this
chapter is entertaining enough.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

"How much longer till you're done setting up the sound equipment, Kevin?" Stan yelled from the
kitchen.

He waited for a response, giving Kevin a few beats to come up with an estimate. After he didn't
hear anything back, he called out one more time.

"Kev? DJ Warpspeed?"

A song began to play from the living room. It was "Four Minutes" by Madonna.

"Ha ha, very funny, Kevin! I'm gonna hold you to that four minutes, artard!”

It was about an hour after the game had ended. Stan had rushed home without partaking in the
congratulatory crowd of parents and fans outside of the locker room. He had managed to duck
through the crowd since everyone wanted to see Clyde that night. He was filling the table with
dozens of red solo cups when Clyde, Token, and Nichole finally arrived.

“The party starter is here! Whoop whoop!” Clyde announced.

“Great, can you go unload the snacks and shit from my car? Thanks, Clyde.” Stan’s words sounded
like a question, but his tone of voice was more of a command than anything.

“Fiiine,” Clyde sighed. “It’s a good thing I love you, dude. Like a brother, I mean.” He proceeded
to turn around and march back outside.

“Hey Stan, look at this,” said Token. “I managed to sneak this bottle of scotch from my parents
cabinet.”
“Dude, that looks fucking expensive!” Stan’s eyes widened at the fancy looking bottle.

“I mean, it might be? One of my dad’s clients gave this to him for Christmas like six years ago and
they still haven’t touched it. I’m not really sure if it’s because they were saving it for a special
occasion, they don’t like scotch, or they just forgot they even had it.”

“Let’s hope they forgot about it. You can put it over there on the counter.” Stan turned to Nichole.
“Hey Nichole, could you help me open all of these beer cans and ration them out into the cups.”

“Sure, Stan,” she answered. “How were you able to get all this beer on your own? Did you ask
Shelly to get this for you?” She eyed the many cases stacked on the floor.

“Fuck no. If I ever tried to ask Shelly for anything, she’d probably kick my ass. I might have a size
advantage on her now, but she’s still fucking scary. Nah, my dad got them for me.”

“Wait, what? Your dad actually encourages underage drinking?” she asked.

Stan rolled his head to the side and stared at Nichole. “Really? Come on Nichole, you’ve lived here
for long enough to know that my dad is one of the biggest alcoholics in town, and he will do
literally anything to make the kids in this town think he’s cool. I didn’t even have to fucking ask.”
He gestured to the cases.

“Okay, you’re right, you’re right,” she giggled.

“Speaking of your parents, where are they?” asked Token.

“Denver. A couple of new musicals came to the area recently, so they went for the weekend.”

“You do realize that means that your mom is giving your dad head right now as we speak, yes?”
Token’s faced scrunched up. No one liked to imagine the adults of South Park as sexual beings.

“I am aware of that, Token, yes. Thanks for reminding me.” Stan shook his head as he continued to
open more cans of beer and pour about half a can into each cup. “That disturbing thought is worth
it for tonight, though, so that we can have the entire house and no adults around.”

“Hell yeah, bro! We’re going to tear the fucking house down!” Clyde had entered the kitchen and
set the bags of snacks on the counter.

“Not literally of course!” Stan interjected. “God, I hate that I have to even say that, but knowing
this town…”

People began to slowly trickle in, and by eleven, the Marsh house was full of students. The
windowpanes were vibrating from the volume of the music and the deepness of the bass served by
DJ Warpspeed. The first floor smelled of many varieties of perfume and only one or two varieties
of Axe body spray. Most of the students were already to the tipsy level of the drunkenness scale.
Some, mostly the cheer squad, were dancing in the middle of the living room floor. Some, mostly
the football players, were spread out throughout the house. The walls, the couch, the backyard.
Anywhere that the guys could fit and down cup after cup of cheap beer while cracking offensive
jokes with each other, you’d find them. Clyde and Token were in the kitchen, chatting about the
results of the game.

“That was one hell of a catch, my friend,” said Token.

He held up his red cup of expensive scotch in a toast to Clyde. Clyde tapped his own red cup full of
‘I don’t give a shit as long as it gets me drunk’ against Token’s cup and then they both drank.
Token took a dignified sip, spending a moment to try to appreciate the taste of the scotch. It was
horrible and made his mouth feel like it was on fire, but he wasn’t about to let that show on his
face. Clyde leaned back and gulped down the entire contents of his cup. He wiped his mouth with
the back of his hand and let out a very undignified belch when he was done.

“Do you think any of the girls here would fuck me because of it?” Clyde asked, straight-faced.

Token almost choked on his next sip. “Um, maybe? You’d have to ask the girls themselves, bro.”

“Oh. Yeah I guess that could work. I was hoping they’d be throwing themselves at me tonight, but
it looks like they’re all too busy dancing with each other to come climb Mount Clyde.”

“Clyde, what’s up with you tonight? Are you already drunk? You love to flirt. That’s one of your
few talents. It’s football and flirting. That’s what you fucking do!”

“I dunno. I really need to get laid tonight. I just didn’t want it to be too hard.”

“Jesus Christ, dude. You need to get laid tonight? Why is it so important tonight? Are you that
horny?”

“Well, it’s just that—”

The sound of someone banging on the front door distracted Clyde from his thought. One of the
cheerleaders who was nearby opened the door. Kenny stepped into the house, Red thrown over his
shoulder, one of his hands firmly on her ass.

“Did anyone here order a pizza with extra hot Red sauce?” he loudly announced.

The cheerleaders let out a shriek of excitement as Kenny put Red down and she ran into their arms
for hugs. Kenny closed the door behind him. From the kitchen, Clyde glared daggers at the back of
his head.

“Why the fuck is he here?” Clyde asked Token.

Token leaned over to see who Clyde was talking about. “I’m gonna guess that Red invited him,
dude. You know we’re able to invite whoever we want. This isn’t a completely exclusive event.”

“Yeah, but…but…him?”

“Why not? He’s in the band. It’s not like they’re our sworn enemies or anything.”

“Speak for yourself,” Clyde mumbled under his breath.

Clyde looked back out into the living room and was met with Kenny staring back at him. Kenny
sent him a smile and a wink, drenched in smug. Clyde balled his fists and grit his teeth. That
bastard comes into his space just to fuck with him? Clyde desperately wanted everyone else to
notice this and realize that Kenny wasn’t the good guy that they seem to think he is. He knew that
Kenny was going to flaunt Red in front of him the entire night, just to piss him off. What an
asshole! He grabbed another red cup of beer and drank it down, throwing the empty cup at the
wall.

“Dude, are you alright?”

Clyde startled at the voice next to him. Token’s eyes were wide in response to Clyde’s sudden
outburst. Clyde had forgotten that he was still in the kitchen with him.
“Oh. Yeah, totally. I was trying to throw my cup into the trash can to look cool.”

“Clyde. The trash can is on the other side of the room.”

“Well, Token, that’s why I’m not the quarterback. I’m a lousy throw.”

Clyde grabbed another cup and quickly escaped into the living room. He didn’t want to be any
closer to Kenny, but he sure as shit didn’t want to stay in that awkward situation with Token any
longer. It turned out to be great timing, as he narrowly missed Kenny, who was heading into the
kitchen to fetch some drinks for Red and himself. He nodded to Token, who nodded in return.

“Good game tonight,” Kenny said. He wasn’t a huge fan of small talk with people he wasn’t
especially close to, but he really wasn’t a fan of existing in uncomfortable silence with people he
wasn’t close to.

“Thanks. It was a tough one tonight. I think we were too cocky going in,” said Token. “You guys
sounded really good. You looked pretty fucking cool, from what I saw.”

Kenny cocked his head to the side. “How would you know? Aren’t you guys in the locker room
during halftime?”

“Yeah, we are. But Stan and Clyde snuck out under the bleachers to watch the last song. I had to
run out to drag them back before we ran out for the second half.”

“Why were they trying to watch?” Kenny asked.

“Stan wanted to get a better look at Wendy. He just kinda dragged Clyde along with him.”

“Of course he fucking did.” Kenny scratched the back of his head. “Did Donovan say anything
about the performance?”

“Oh yeah. He said you guys were, quote, whatever. My man has opinions,” Token chuckled.

“Right,” Kenny scoffed. “Well Token, I think I’m gonna head back out there. I’ve got big plans for
Red tonight.” He gave Token a sly smile, his tongue slightly sticking out from between his teeth.

“Yeah, what’s up with that? Are you two dating now?”

“Nah, we’re just having fun together. Nothing serious. You know how it is.”

“No. No I really wouldn’t, Ken.”

Token wrapped his arm around Nichole, who had just entered the kitchen.

“What wouldn’t you know, babe?” she asked. “Ooh, let me have a sip, I’m thirsty.” She took his
cup from his hand and finished off the contents.

“I wouldn’t know what having casual fun with someone is like. I like to get to really know my girl
inside and out.” He leaned down to nuzzle Nichole’s neck.

“Yeah you do,” Nichole growled back, moving in to kiss him. The two began to kiss rather
intensely, like they had completely forgotten that Kenny was there.

“Yeah, I’m gonna go before you guys start fucking on the kitchen table.”

He scooped up a couple more cups and returned to the living room. As he walked past the
staircase, he gave the side eye to Clyde, who had been trying to hide in the shadows on the
sidelines of the party. This wasn’t lost on Clyde.

“Why am I the only one who sees that he’s a big dumb jerk?”

“Huh? Who?” asked Stan.

“McCormick! He’s been messing with me all week! Everyone thinks he’s this super chill fun dude,
but really he’s a giant dick!” Clyde waved his hands in the air for emphasis.

Stan giggled. “A giant dick. That’d be awesome. Like fifty feet long and ten feet wide. With, like,
giant balls, too.”

“Dammit, Stan! How much have you had to drink?”

“Lots,” he giggled.

Clyde grumbled. “At least you’re not at the point of puking on me, I guess.”

He sighed and sat back down next to Stan on the stairs. He watched at Kenny mingled with the
cheer squad, dancing with them and chatting casually. Hopefully the bastard would ruin his chance
with Red by focusing too much time and energy on the other girls. Glancing over at Red, however,
it didn’t look like she cared much. In fact, it looked like she was enjoying the fact that Kenny was
spending time socializing with her friends. Goddammit, Red’s a jerk, too!

After a few minutes of quietly watching his peers dancing while Stan leaned heavily on his
shoulder, Clyde spoke up.

"So, like, where's Wendy? I would've figured you'd have brought her tonight."

Stan snuggled closer to Clyde. "Yeah. I tried to invite her. She said she hates these sort of parties
and she said that the band was getting together for their own thing. So she's probably with them.
She's probably with Kyle right now..."

Stan's voice drifted off. He stared blankly out into the living room, his head still resting against
Clyde's shoulder.

"Uh, that's a weirdly specific thing to say," Clyde responded after a beat.

"What is?" Stan asked.

“That she’s with Kyle.”

“Who’s with Kyle?”

"Okay buddy, you're officially drunk.”

Clyde patted Stan on the head before pushing him off of his shoulder and resting him against the
wall. He had thought that the stairs would be a good place to linger, given that he could get a good
look at the whole room, and if the girls needed to go to the bathroom, they’d have to pass by him.
That’s when he could begin the flirting. But no one had gone to the bathroom yet, which was
surprising given how much everyone had been drinking.

Of course, it would be a lot easier to just flirt directly with the girls, like Token suggested. But that
would require Clyde to get near Kenny, and he knew that if he did, one of two things would
happen. Either he would get too angry at how everyone is just hanging off of Kenny that he would
be a horrible flirt, or he’d end up getting cock blocked by Kenny somehow. Like Kenny would
loudly announce that Clyde had a small dick or something. Who knows! Kenny’s a douchebag like
that. Clyde grumbled to himself. This night was going nowhere.

Or was it? Clyde suddenly caught Lisa out of the corner of his eye. She was heading this way! She
was probably a sure thing because they dated for about a week in fourth grade! This would be a
cinch!

“Hey Lisa, what’s going on?” he asked when she stopped in front of the stairs. He leaned back on
his elbows and looked up at her with heavy lids in an attempt to look cool and casual.

“I have to pee, Clyde. Outta my way,” she said, hands on her hips.

“Oh yeah? What’re you gonna do about it if I don’t move? Are you gonna roughhouse me?” Clyde
gave her a wink.

“Uh, no. I’m probably just going to end up pissing on you because I was blocked from going to the
fucking bathroom.”

“Oh. Uh…well would you maybe want to make out later tonight?” he blurted out.

“Yeah, sure, fine. Now can I just go to the bathroom already?”

“Yeah.”

Clyde stood up, pouting. He moved away from the staircase, leaving Stan snoozing against the
wall and Lisa to go about her business upstairs. He spotted Bebe taking a seat in an empty easy
chair. She flung her legs up over one of the arms of the chair and scooted down so that her head
was resting on the other. Clyde made a beeline toward her.

“Bebeeeee…” he whined. He draped his body over the back of the chair, staring at her with big
brown puppy dog eyes.

“What is it, my sad little pup?” she laughed, placing her hand on his cheek. “I’m only taking a
break for one song, so you’ve got about three minutes.”

“No one wants to have sex with meeee,” he whined.

“How many girls have you asked?”

“Uh, well…none. I just asked Lisa if she wanted to make out, which could lead to sex. I figured all
the cheerleaders would be all over me tonight, but…nada. They’ve been all over douchebag over
there.”

Clyde nodded his head toward Kenny.

“Ugh, I mean look at him rolling his hips at them like a fucking coked up stripper. Wearing a
stupid button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He might as well being wearing a goddamn man
bun with how much of an asshole he looks right now.”

“You’re being weirdly detailed in your insults, babe. Like maybe you’ve been staring at him a lot
tonight.” Bebe raised her eyebrows and stared Clyde down.

“What? No! I mean, yeah, but, that’s, like, cause I can’t focus on anything else while he’s here
ruining my good time,” he pouted.
Bebe smiled and patted Clyde on the shoulder.

“Look, Clyde. By worrying about what Kenny’s doing and brooding about him even being here,
god forbid, you’re putting out a really negative energy. Girls aren’t going to be attracted to that.
What they are attracted to is someone who’s putting out a fun, positive energy. Like Kenny has
been doing all night.”

Clyde rolled his eyes. He really was the only one who could see through Kenny’s smoke and
mirrors.

“So what I think you should do,” Bebe continued, “is get out on the dance floor and have some fun.
Don’t give a shit about what Kenny is doing or who he’s with. Be your charming, goofy self, and
you’ll manage to score a point tonight. Trust me.” She winked up at him.

Clyde blinked at Bebe a few times.

“Does that mean that you want to…?”

“No Clyde, you dork!” she laughed. “I’m your second. Don’t you think that would be an ethical
violation?”

“…Yes?”

“Exactly! But you have the entire cheer squad here, and not to brag or anything, but we’re all cute
as fuck, so march your silly ass into the kitchen and drink down as much alcohol as you need until
you become the fun Clyde I know so well. Cause this whiny one sucks ass.”

The song that was playing faded out and a new one began.

“That’s my cue! Time to get back to partying! Hope to see you over there soon!”

Bebe jumped out of the chair and skipped back into the dancing mass. Clyde decided to take her
advice and he headed in the direction of the kitchen once again. He noted that Kenny was leaning
over Kevin’s DJ table and talking to him. What was he up to?

Once in the kitchen, he picked up another cup, then stood in the doorway from the kitchen to the
dining room. He watched Kenny as he nodded at Kevin and then made his way back to Red. He
placed his hands on her hips as a guitar riff of a new song started. Clyde had never heard this one
before, but judging by the look on Kenny’s face, he must have requested it personally. It had a
chill, laid back feel to it, but as Clyde listened, the lyrics were utter filth. Kenny had obviously
picked it to fuck with Clyde.

“Ha. Kenny picked this, didn’t he?” Cartman suddenly appeared next to Clyde.

“Yeah. How did you know?” asked Clyde.

“It’s “Caress Me Down” by Sublime. Some weird reggae punk band from the nineties. Bunch of
horny stoners or some shit. Kenny used to play this all the time from some ancient relic called a
cassette. I guess it was his parents’. Anyway, the song’s dirty as fuck.”

“I can hear that,” said Clyde, rolling his eyes.

“You know Spanish?” Cartman asked.

“No…but you do?”

“Hell yeah, I’ve been fluent since elementary school. If I’m going to hire Spanish-speaking
workers, I should know the damn language.”

“When did you…? Never mind. So what’s so dirty about the parts in Spanish?”

“Basically the guy is singing about how much he loves pussy.”

Clyde choked a little on a sip of beer. “Of course McCormick would request a song like this
tonight. What a fucking asshole.”

He looked back at Kenny who was currently grinding against Red, his mouth nestled against her
neck. Clyde almost thought that Kenny had purposely positioned them so that they were facing
toward him in the kitchen. He shook his head of the thought. Kenny was a devious bastard, but not
an idiot. He had a hot girl in his arms. He had better things to think about than Clyde. Clyde
honestly believed that. That was until Kenny opened his eyes and lifted his head, his gaze directly
at Clyde. An evil grin appearing on his face when he saw that Clyde was looking right at him.
Clyde crushed the cup in his hand and let it drop to the floor.

“Uh, are you okay, Clyde?” Cartman asked. “You look like you’re about to punch someone. I can’t
have one of my star players getting into a fight. That wouldn’t be good PR.”

“Oh, there’s going to be a fight, alright.”

Before Cartman could object any further, Clyde did a hard walk through the living room and up to
Kevin.

“Kevin!” he yelled over the loud music. “I need you to play something for me!”

Kenny had noticed Clyde’s bull-like march through the living room. It was honestly pretty funny.
He was having a remarkably good time with these jock kids. The cheerleaders loved him and the
few footballers he’d talked to were warm and welcoming. He’d been keeping tabs on Clyde all
night, and he was thoroughly entertained by how jealous he looked every time their eyes met. It
already felt really good feeling up Red, but doing it while Clyde looked on in anger? Even better.

The song he’d requested began to fade out and a new song came in. Kenny paused his fondling for
a moment. This guitar riff sounded familiar. Was this…Stevie Nicks? Edge of Seventeen? A killer
song, but an odd one to be playing at a high school house party. Wait…no…these lyrics… This
was…did Clyde serious request this?

“…can you handle this? I don’t think they can handle this.”

Kenny let go of Red and stepped aside, crossing his arms. He watched as Clyde pushed through
into the center of the group. Everyone who had been dancing immediately stopped and stared at
Clyde. Clyde didn’t move. He simply stared back at Kenny with clenched jaw. Kenny shook his
head and smiled. What was that idiot thinking? Kenny couldn’t decide if he was impressed by
Clyde or embarrassed for him. He had been trying to antagonize his from afar all night, and he had
figured that Clyde would just act like a petulant child the entire time. He didn’t actually expect
Clyde to do anything about it. That being said, Clyde tended to make himself look foolish when he
was angry. Like right now. The look Clyde was giving him was so hot with fury that Kenny was
surprised it didn’t burn a hole in his shirt. There was something kind of cute about Clyde when he
was pissed. He looked like an angry puppy. Kenny smiled back at him and gestured toward him
with his hand, encouraging him to begin whatever it was that he planned to do.

Clyde began to swing his hips from side to side, somewhat awkwardly. His arms swung as well, in
the opposite direction of his hips. It looked kind of pathetic. Like the sort of dancing a nerdy
seventh grader would do at their first school dance. The other students stepped back to give him
more room to dance, possibly to see what he might do next and possibly because they feared he
might smack one of them in the face with a reckless arm swing.

“I don’t think you’re ready for this jelly…”

Clyde suddenly burst out into the running man. For such a ridiculous joke of a dance move, it
actually worked remarkably well for the song’s chorus. The girls began to cheer at Clyde as he
slowly became more comfortable. He spun around and bent over, resting his hands on his knees,
and did a white boy version of twerking. Clyde kept turning back to leer at Kenny while he danced.
Kenny covered his mouth with his hand to hide his laughter.

The football players who had been hanging out in the kitchen and around the edges of the room
joined the group, curious at what their boy Clyde was doing. The space around him grew larger,
and soon it became a dance circle with Clyde in the middle. Once Clyde realized that he was the
center of attention, his face lit up and he stopped worrying about whether or not Kenny was
watching him. He began to bust out all of the cheesy dance circle classics, like the robot and the
worm. His worm wasn’t very good, but no one cared. They cheered loudly and Clyde felt like he
was on cloud nine.

Token and Nichole were snuggled up on the couch after their kitchen kisses had turned into a
lengthy make out session in the living room. They watched Clyde through the gaps in the dance
circle, laughing at their friend.

“He is so silly…and kind of dumb, but in a charming way, you know?” said Nichole.

“That’s his entire brand. Charmingly dumb,” Token laughed. “He sure knows how to make people
smile, though.”

Nichole ran her hand up and down Token’s arm. “He’s kinda cute, too.” She turned to look at him
and bit the middle of her bottom lip.

“Are you thinking what I think you’re thinking?” he asked.

“Yeah. If you’re okay with it.”

“Definitely. He’s one of my best friends. There’s no one I would trust more,” said Token.

“Great! Let’s ask him later, then.” She leaned in to give him a quick peck on the cheek before
turning back to watch the dancing.

Kenny rubbed his chin in thought. The gears were turning as he came up with a counter attack to
Clyde’s impromptu dance-off. He jumped when he felt a large hand on his shoulder. It was Stan,
who had woken up and finally joined the group.

“Wass go’n on?” Stan slurred.

“A dance circle, apparently. Hey, can you stand here and keep my spot warm for me? I’m gonna be
right back.”

Stan nodded at Kenny, who then left toward the kitchen. He returned dragging a wooden chair
behind him. He moved up to Kevin’s table and whispered something in his ear. Once Kevin
nodded, Kenny pushed through his peers and into the dance circle, chair still in hand. Clyde
furrowed his brow at Kenny in confusion and stopped dancing. He walked up to Kenny and stared
him down, arms crossed.

“Dude, what the fuck are you doing? This is my fucking moment!” Clyde’s voice could barely be
heard over the other sounds in the room.

Kenny stood on his toes and brought his mouth up to Clyde’s ear. He wanted to make sure that
Clyde could hear him perfectly.

“This is how it’s done. Watch and learn, Donovan.”

Clyde reluctantly took a position back in the circle, standing between Stan and Scott. His arms
remained crossed in front of him, his lips pursed and brow still furrowed. Kenny placed the chair
down and reached his hand out for Red. She hesitated for a moment as Clyde’s song faded out and
Kenny’s newly requested song faded in. She slowly walked into the circle, giggling nervously.

“What is this? What are you doing, Kenny?”

“Take a seat, Red. I’m gonna dance for you.”

He smiled and turned around, walking to the other side of the circle. Red covered her face with her
hands in embarrassment as she sat down. Her friends cheered for her, making her blush even
harder. Kenny turned around to face Red, slowly closed his eyes, and ran his hand through his hair.
He opened his eyes and stared directly at her.

“I feel like I’ve been locked up tight for a century of lonely nights, waiting for someone to release
me…”

Kenny started slow. The upside to being a musician was that he knew how to build the tension in a
song. He moved down into a crouching position with his knees spread apart. As his dropped down,
his hands glided along his jean-clad thighs. He ran a thumb over his lips and blew a kiss at Red
along with the lyrics, smirking when she sank into her chair, writhing around in embarrassment. If
everything went right, by the end of the song, she’d be putty in his hands, and Clyde would be
green with envy. He slowly stood back up, dragging his nails up his legs as he did.

“Ooo~ooh, my body’s saying let’s go…”

His hands didn’t stop moving once his was standing up. One moved up to rub along his stomach
while the other slid up across his chest. He began to move closer to Red as he touched himself,
stopping when he was directly in front of her. As the chorus hit, he placed his hands on the top of
the chair and swung his left leg across Red so that he was straddling her lap. He began to roll his
body along with the music. Red peeked through her fingers and mouthed Oh my god when she saw
what Kenny was currently doing. She dropped her hands from her face, still flushed with
embarrassment, and looked up at him. Kenny kept his eyes on Red, mouthing Hi and wagging his
eyebrows.

“I’m a genie in a bottle, you gotta rub me the right way…”

When the chorus finished, he quickly leapt away from Red and began to dance around the circle.
Everyone seemed to be getting into the spectacle, no matter their gender. The energy of the room
and the fact that everyone was fairly liquored up helped. When the song reached the chorus once
again, he returned to Red, this time just barely sitting on her lap, facing away from her. Kenny
began to unbutton his shirt while grinding his ass against her thighs. When his shirt was open, he
picked up both of her hands and stroked her hands against his exposed skin. He felt her spread her
legs a little bit underneath him and felt her breathing heavy against his neck. She was almost ready.
Kenny slipped out of Red’s grasp and spun around to face her. He rolled his hips to the music as he
slid his shirt off completely. He wound up the shirt and flung it forward into the dance circle. It hit
Clyde in the face, which gave Kenny added enjoyment. He continued to dance to the music until it
reached the chorus one final time. He dropped to his knees and rolled his hips while he slowly
leaned backward, running his hands over his body, until he was flat against the floor. He arched his
back while he rose upright, then smacked his hands down on the floor in front of him. As the
chorus repeated, he slinked toward Red on all fours, his eyes not leaving hers. He could see her
hands trembling and her chest heaving. It was subtle, but he could tell. Her mouth was slightly
open. Always a good sign. He was ready to go in for the kill.

“Just come and set me free, baby, and I’ll be with you…”

He crept up to Red and placed his hands on her knees. He gently pressed on the inside of her knees
and her thighs spread open easily. He crawled in between her legs, his eyes locked on hers, and
rubbed his cheek against her inner thigh. He was dangerously close to her pussy. He could smell
that she was already aroused. Mission accomplished.

The song ended and then there was silence. Kevin didn’t have a new song ready. The students in
the circle weren’t even cheering anymore. Everyone was speechless and staring at Kenny and Red,
who didn’t move after the song ended. Kenny just lingered there between her legs. It was like each
and every student was holding their breath, waiting to see what was going to happen next. Were
they about to watch their classmates have sex? The mood in the room sure felt like that was about
to happen.

“Oh god-fucking-dammit, just get a fucking room!” Clyde yelled, breaking the tension in the air.

Laughter broke out among the students and Kevin finally got a new song started as everyone began
to disperse throughout the house once again. Stan leaned against Clyde and patted him on the chest.

“I’ll, uh, see you around, buddy. I, uh…I gotta go…I’m gonna call Ky-, uh…no…Wen…yeah
Wendy…I’m gonna call Wendy…”

He staggered away up the stairs toward his room.

“Well shit,” Scott said next to Clyde. “That was pretty good. Even I want to have sex with Kenny
now.”

“Shut up, Scott. You have diabetes,” Clyde scoffed.

“I really don’t see what having diabetes has to do with this.”

He gave Clyde a dirty look and left to continue dancing with the rest of the cheer squad. Clyde was
left alone, still staring at Kenny and Red, and still awkwardly holding Kenny’s discarded shirt.
Kenny finally stood up and took Red’s hands in his, helping her up out of her chair.

“Do you wanna go upstairs?” She squeezed his hands. They felt warm and soft.

“I’d love nothing more.” Kenny smiled and brought one of her hands up to his mouth to kiss it.

Red led the way as they moved toward the stairs. Kenny lingered back at the base of the stairs
while she continued up. He glanced over at Clyde to make sure he was watching. Kenny held up
his index and middle fingers in a V while holding Clyde’s gaze. He stuck out his tongue and
slowly licked up the empty space between his fingers, grinning, and then pulling his index finger
down to flip Clyde off. He blew a furious, red-faced Clyde a kiss before he ran up the stairs after
Red.
Chapter End Notes

Songs used/referenced:
*"Caress Me Down" by Sublime
*"Bootylicious" by Destiny's Child
*"Genie in a Bottle" by Christina Aguilera

(My music aesthetic for this fic has a lot of songs from my Jr High and HS years. ^^()
)

Timeline: September 7
 Kenny x Red
Chapter Notes

This chapter has smut in it (het smut this time), so if you would like to skip that, it
starts around the line "He followed suit" and is over by "Once inside the bathroom".

Sorry for the long gap in time since my last update. For those of you still tagging along
with me, I hope you enjoy this one.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Clyde squeezed his hands into fists and grit his teeth. He loudly grumbled incoherently, but
everyone else was too busy dancing, making out, or returning to get more drinks. That son of a
bitch. It was bad enough that he was clearly going to score the first point, but he went out of his
way to put on that lewd display. That stunt may have cost him his own chance at hooking up with
someone tonight! How could he compete with Kenny's shirtless lap dance? Sure, it was kind of
sexy, but that was only because Red was really into it, probably.

Clyde huffed and went to sit down on the now-empty couch that Token and Nichole had been
occupying. They had quickly left the party right after the lap dance was done. Most likely to fuck
in Token's new car, the rich bastard. Clyde watched his peers dancing and felt a little jealous. This
was his senior year and it was already off to an awful start. Look at them. Not a care in the world.
They probably didn't have secret sex bets with horrible excuses for human beings. They were just
young and wild on a Saturday at two in the morning. It must be nice, being so carefree. Clyde
stared at Bebe in the hopes that she'd make eye contact and come over for another pep talk, but she
was too busy grinding up on Scott.

He sighed and leaned on the arm of the couch. It was then that he noticed something out of the
corner of his eye. Kenny's button up shirt. It was still crumpled on the floor where Clyde had
thrown it earlier after Kenny had tossed it at his face. Kenny hadn't picked it up before he went
upstairs. Clyde stared at it, thinking about what he could do to the shirt as a form of revenge. If he
couldn't grab a point tonight, the least he could do is figure out a way to make him feel better about
being behind.

It had to be something awful, but somewhat subtle. Spilling ink on it would be too obvious. Cutting
holes in it would probably get the same results that it did in Mean Girls—Kenny would just wear it
confidently and start a stupid new trend. Clyde's eyes lit up when he finally thought of the perfect
thing to do with the shirt.

He jumped off the couch and grabbed the piece of clothing from the floor. Moving over to a dark
corner of the room, Clyde turned to face the wall and unzipped his pants. He glanced over his
shoulder at his friends as he stuffed Kenny's shirt into his underwear. He adjusted it so that the shirt
was touching as much skin as possible, and hastily zipped himself back up. It was a strange feeling,
having all this extra clothing down there. It didn't leave much room for Little Clyde to breathe, but
this was a necessary sacrifice.

Clyde smiled and turned back to the dance floor. It was time to get his groove on and dance up a
sweat.
"Okay, so that's clearly Stan's room…"

Kenny saw Red closing a door when he reached the top of the stairs. Red had a slightly
embarrassed, slightly amused look on her face. He knew that it was Stan's room from all the
sleepovers he'd had there growing up, but he was still curious about what had caused Red to react
that way.

"How can you tell?" he asked.

Red held her hands up over her mouth. Kenny loved the mischievous look in her eyes. Why had he
never thought to hook-up with her before? Or at least get to know her more as a person? Their brief
interactions as children weren't really enough to call them friends, and ever since Kenny discovered
the drums and Red got serious about cheering, they barely interacted at all outside of class. She
slowly dropped her hands from her mouth.

"Because Stan is currently jacking off in there."

Kenny and Red stared at each other for a moment before bursting into a fit of giggles.

"You'd think he would've gone to Wendy's house if he was feeling horny, but knowing him, he's
probably too drunk to perform tonight," said Kenny. "Okay, so if we can't use his room…"

Kenny rubbed his chin trying to decide which was worse between Shelley's room or Stan's parents'
room, but Red didn't waste any time. She turned the doorknob to the parents' room and grinned at
Kenny as she pushed the door open and disappeared inside.

Kenny bit his lower lip. "Just like that, huh?" he said softly.

He followed suit, walking through the door and closing it behind him. The room was dark. The
only source of light was coming in from the one window. Kenny flipped the light switch on the
wall next to him. With the room lit, he found Red already seated on the corner of the queen sized
bed. She was subtly wiggling back and forth, and it looked like she could pounce on him at any
moment.

"So…here we are," he purred.

"I don't have time for more seduction. Get on over here so I can take your pants off," said Red.

"Are you always this forward?" Kenny raised an eyebrow at her. "How much have you had to drink
tonight?"

"Yes, I am always this forward, and I only had like half of the beer you gave me when we first got
here. I don't really like to drink when I know I'm going to hookup with someone. I like to
remember my sexual encounters."

"Oh? So you thought this was going to be a sure thing tonight?"

"Mmhmm. It was obvious once I felt your boner grinding against my ass while we were dancing."

Kenny laughed and nodded. "Outed by my dick. I'm surprised you were able to feel that through
the jeans."

"You were grinding into me pretty damn hard, Kenny."

"Touché."
He walked over to her and placed his hands on her shoulders. She tilted her head up and parted her
lips. Kenny leaned down and kissed her, tasting a hint of artificial raspberry from her lip gloss.
When he felt her already undoing the button on his jeans, he finally got the hint that she wasn't
playing around. He upped the intensity of the kiss, his tongue tracing along her bottom lip. He
smiled against her mouth when he felt her tongue touch his own. Red shimmied his jeans down his
legs until they hit the floor. She placed her hands on his hips while he worked on kicking them off.
She then abruptly pulled away from the kiss, causing Kenny to let out a whine.

Red glanced at Kenny's underwear and cocked her head. "Really? Briefs? I'd always pegged you
for a boxers kind of guy."

Kenny stood up straight and placed his hands on his hips.

"They're from a ten for fifteen dollars pack I got at Target. Does that turn you on, baby?"

Red pursed her lips in an attempt to not giggle. "No. No it does not."

Kenny leaned back down, his lips hovering by her ear. "What if I told you it was also a bonus pack
with two extra pairs?" he whispered.

"Oh god, yes!" Red cried out, making them both laugh.

Red scooted back onto the bed while Kenny pulled off his affordably priced briefs. She let out a
soft moan of approval when his cock sprung out.

"Like what you see?"

She responded with a smirk and took off her shirt. Once she could see again, she smiled even
harder when she saw the hungry look on Kenny's face.

"Like what you see?" she giggled.

"Hell yeah."

She leaned back onto her elbows as Kenny crawled onto the bed. He smoothed a hand over the lacy
fabric of her bra, admiring how perfect her breasts were. Not too big, not too small, and almost
impossibly round. He had seen a lot of breasts in his life so far, in person or from some form of
media, and he mentally filed Red's away easily in the top ten favorites. He knew he had to see them
out of their pretty cage.

He wrapped his arms around her body and pulled her close to him. While his dexterous fingers
worked to unhook her bra, he buried his face into her neck. Sucking at her delicate pale skin,
leaving tiny kisses over the dark pink marks he left behind, he finally slipped her straps off and
threw the discarded piece of clothing behind him. He moaned into her neck when he felt her soft
breasts press against his chest.

He sat up and looked down at the beautiful person in front of him. Fuck, she was sexy as hell.
Kenny made a mental note that he should thank Clyde for getting him involved in his stupid game.
He never would have seen all of this if it weren't for him.

Kenny slid his hands up Red's skirt and slipped his fingers under the hem of her panties. He could
feel the lace against his fingertips and smiled. Red did seem like the sort of girl who would wear a
matching bra and panty set. He slowly pulled the fabric down, his nails lightly scratching against
her thighs as he did. He enjoyed watching her squirm at his touch. He could feel how wet her
panties had gotten as he tossed them aside. Goddamn, she was going to feel so good.
Red went to pull down her skirt, but Kenny gently placed his hands on hers.

"Would you be okay keeping it on? It's fucking hot."

"Sure," she replied. Kenny noticed a bit of a blush across her cheeks. It was incredibly cute.

Red bit her lip and stared at Kenny for a moment. He was perplexed by what could be going
through her mind, but also ridiculously turned on for the same reason. She broke into a grin.

"Lie on your back," she said.

Kenny did as he was told, pushing himself up on the bed and lying back, his hands resting back
behind his head. He grinned and wagged his eyebrows at her.

"Don't get too cocky, buddy," she said, crawling over him. "This isn't going to be a lie back and let
her do all the work situation."

"I think I'd feel insulted if it was. As someone who hates guys who don't put in the effort, I have to
prove that I'm not one of them."

Red found it a little funny at how serious Kenny looked. She supposed that he tried to give one
hundred percent in everything he did. He was always trying to prove himself in English class, and
he clearly put in the effort for band.

She lifted her skirt and placed her knees on either side of his head. She looked down and saw him
smile. A rush of excitement ran through her body at the twinkle in his eyes. She felt his hands grab
ahold of her thighs and help her lower herself down until her pussy met his mouth.

She let out a squeak when she felt his tongue slip between her lips. Clamping her hands over her
mouth at first, she gradually became more relaxed as the sensations between her legs intensified.
She lowered her hands, pressing them against the wall in front of her to brace herself. Her hips
began to rock back and forth, Kenny's tongue rubbing against her sensitive clit with each pass.

Kenny used one of his hands to pull the hem of her skirt away from his eyes so that he could get a
better look at Red. Her eyes were closed, lips slightly parted, tiny whimpers emanating from her
throat. Her tits looked amazing. Round, full, soft, and her nipples were dark and erect. He
reflexively tried to move an arm, wanting badly to reach up and touch one, but then immediately
remembered that his arms were pinned by her thighs.

Red felt the movement and opened her eyes.

"Focus on the task at hand, boy," she laughed.

She shifted her weight back a little and dropped her hands from the wall. She looked down at
Kenny's face, slightly covered by her skirt, and smiled. She brought a hand down to gently stroke
his messy hair, but then laced her fingers through and tightened her fist. She faintly heard Kenny
moan underneath her and felt the vibrations against her pussy.

"So you like it a little rough, eh? I'll have to keep that in mind for next time," she said.

She let go of his hair and swung one of her legs over his body so that she was kneeling by his side.

"Next time? Are we done?" asked Kenny.

"Nah, just a change in position. And if there is a next time. You know, if you're interested."
She swung her other leg back over his head so that she was now facing away from the wall. She
lowered her body down onto his and grabbed his dick in her hand. Kenny's hips bucked up at the
touch.

"I like your style," he mumbled against her pussy.

She noticed that he had begun to get a bit soft while he was eating her out. She ran her tongue
along the bottom of his member before slipping it into her mouth. He began to harden up again
between her soft lips. He grabbed her ass with his hands and worked faster on his end, licking and
sucking at her clit. Kenny could feel Red's body tightening on top of him, her muscles tense and
ready to release. He heard her moan, low and deep, as she came. It was a huge turn on for him to
have a girl come while she was sucking his dick. As he took a few final slow laps between her legs,
he mentally cursed himself again for having never pursued her in the past.

She finally pulled her mouth off, playfully flicking her tongue against the tip. She rolled off of him
and maneuvered herself around so that she could lean down to gently kiss him.

"Normally I like to make out a little more in between, but I really want to get fucked right now,"
she said softly after breaking the kiss.

Kenny's eyes widened for a second. He was honestly taken aback with such a forward statement
after such a sweet kiss. His eyes returned to normal, a smirk growing on his lips.

"You don't need to tell me twice," he said.

He grabbed her around her waist and pulled her down onto the bed. Red squealed at the sudden
movement. Looking up at him, she bit her bottom lip and Kenny saw a mischievous look in her
eye. She suddenly flipped over so that she was on her stomach and pushed herself onto her hands
and knees. She turned her head to the side, trying to look at Kenny behind her.

"Mm, I think I would like it this way tonight, if that's okay."

Kenny took a moment to admire Red's ass in the skirt. In that position, it was the perfect shape. It
even looked tight enough to bounce a quarter off of, but he didn't have any on him to try. Years of
cheering probably helped her get that butt. Kenny wondered if all of the other cheerleaders had
similar booties.

"Uh, yeah. That is more than okay," he finally answered. "Gimme a sec to grab a condom from my
wallet."

Red turned back to face forward.

"Okay, I'll be right here…"

She teasingly wiggled her hips while she waited. Kenny groaned and bit his knuckle to try to
prevent himself from mounting her right then, saying fuck it to safe sex.

He turned away and picked up his pants, rummaging through for the condom he always kept in his
wallet—cause you never know. His cell phone dropped out of his other pocket onto the floor. He
stared at it for a moment, then glanced over to Red's provocative position, then back to the phone.
He grit his teeth as he removed the condom and put his wallet back. At the last second, he decided
to go for it.

"Hey Red? Would it be okay if I took some pics of us on my phone?"

"Yeah sure, just hurry up and get over here!"

Kenny grabbed his phone and crawled back up onto the bed. He positioned himself behind Red
and opened his camera app. He ran one of his hands up the back of her thigh. Her skin was smooth
and soft against his rough hands. Years of playing drums had left calluses on his hands, but no one
he'd been with had ever complained. He pushed his hand up under Red's skirt, flipping it up onto
her back. He held the phone in the other hand and silently took a picture.

Putting the phone down next to him, he tore open the condom and rolled it on. He held his cock in
place and slowly pushed inside of her. He slipped in easily, but she still felt tight against him.
Kenny felt Red push back against his pelvis to make sure that he was completely inside of her. He
placed a hand on her hip and grabbed his phone again. He took a few more photos of him inside of
her and then tossed the phone to the floor. He wasn't here for a photoshoot. He was here to get her
to moan his name.

He grabbed her hips with both hands and actually began to thrust. He started slowly at first, letting
her get used to the feeling of him, even though her body was more than ready at this point. She
moved her hips back to meet his thrusts. With each stroke, her moans got a little louder. Red placed
a hand out on the headboard to steady her balance as Kenny moved faster. Her pussy was so warm
and tight, Kenny started to let out some moans himself as he got closer to climax. By this point,
Red was letting some swears escape and Kenny's name followed a few of them. He felt nourished
by the sound.

"I…ahh…I hope that Stan is…oh fuck…enjoying our sounds," she gasped out.

Kenny laughed. "I bet he is." If he hasn't passed the fuck out yet, Kenny thought.

Red lowered her chest onto the bed and slipped an arm underneath her body. With her hand
between her legs, she began to rub circles around her clit. Her breathing was becoming more
erratic, and he could feel her pelvic muscles squeezing tighter around him. He dug his fingers into
her hips and thrust as fast and as hard as he could, trying to find that right spot to take her over the
edge.

He knew he found it when all she could manage to say was his name over and over. The sound of
her crying out as she came, plus the sudden extra slickness, helped Kenny reach his own climax a
few moments later.

Kenny leaned down to place small kisses along Red's spine. She let out a blissful sigh and let her
body collapse onto the bed. The sight of her spent—hair disheveled, arms and legs spread out—
was beautiful. Kenny hopped off the bed and grabbed his clothes and phone before exiting the
room. He sighed, wishing that the Marshes had a master bathroom attached so that he didn't have
to leave Red completely alone to go clean up.

Once inside the bathroom, he pulled off the condom and tossed it in the trash. While wiping off his
softening member, he got a wonderful, awful idea. He had wanted to take the photos for his own
personal collection, but he realized that he could also use them to fuck with Clyde. He got his
number from Craig after this whole stupid contest began. He had figured it'd probably come in
handy at some point, and here it was. Kenny finished washing and drying his hands before picking
up his phone.

He sent three pictures—one of his hand on Red's ass, one close-up of him inside of her, and one
picture he had taken like a selfie, holding the camera above his head to get a more full body shot of
him fucking her. He ended it by texting I just got some good pussy. What did you do tonight,
Donovan? He had a feeling that would get under Clyde's skin.
When Kenny returned from the bathroom, he noticed that Red was still lying on the bed. He
figured that she would have started to get dressed. Her head was slightly angled away from him,
but he could tell that she had a somber look on her face. Kenny felt a heaviness in the pit of his
stomach. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He really hoped that she wasn't regretting this
now that the high was gone.

He walked over to the bed and lied down next to her.

"Whatcha thinking?" he asked.

Nothing.

"Gee, I was that bad, huh?"

He heard Red softly snort. It was a few more moments before she rolled over onto her back and
looked at him.

"No. You were wonderful. I just…"

Kenny studied her face while she tried to find the right words. He saw something in her eyes that
felt familiar. He couldn't quite figure out what it was, but he felt a closeness to Red in that moment.

"I just get like this sometimes. After…you know. After hooking up with someone. I'm afraid to go
downstairs, honestly. Stan's parents won't be home until tomorrow, so it's not like I couldn't just
hide in here until the party's over…right?"

Kenny managed a weak smile. "I'm not sure that's really a great idea. Stan's going to have a
massive hangover in a few hours, and I don't know if you want to be around for that. He becomes a
whiny little bitch."

When he couldn't get a laugh out of Red with that comment, he continued.

"Can I ask why you're afraid? Everyone down there is your friend."

Red briefly made eye contact with him, but quickly averted her glance.

"I'm worried about what people will think about me. I know that sounds ridiculous because
they are my friends, but let's be real. It's obvious we came up here to fuck. If everyone else hadn't
been there earlier, I would've fucked you right there on the floor. It's not like I could try to pass it
off as we just made out some or only got to second base."

"If you want to say that's what we did, I can totally go along with that story. I'm not really a guy
who feels the need to brag about who he's had sex with," Kenny said, trying to be supportive.

Except to Clyde, he thought. Then I'll never stop bragging .

Red shook her head. "No. No one will ever believe that. We both have a reputation. I know what
people at school think about me. I hear the things they whisper to each other. I know I shouldn't let
it affect me, but it does. I do love sex, but I don't want to feel ashamed for loving it. I so badly want
to be sex positive and shrug off their words, but that's easier said than done."

"I know how you feel," said Kenny. "I know it's not a big secret that I get around a lot, but I didn't
realize until this week that a majority of people at school see me as only that. I never thought
something like that would bother me. Having a reputation as a guy who hooks up with a lot of
people, I mean. Most guys would probably be proud of it. It's actually made me feel a bit
uncomfortable. I want to be known for my musical skill, and as a guy who's trying his best to make
a better life for himself and his sister. I don't want to be remembered just as a guy who knew how
to use his dick. It sucks."

Red smiled sadly at Kenny.

"I appreciate the sentiment, really I do, but…it's different for girls. As a guy, you potentially have
other guys looking at you as someone to celebrate or envy. For most guys, being known as
someone who had a lot of sex is a goal, not a negative. For girls, if you get a reputation as someone
who has a lot of sex, it can alienate female friends, it can turn off guys who may have wanted to
date you because they think you won't be faithful or you're 'dirty and used', and it can make
yourself an even bigger target for harassment and abuse because 'you're a slut, you obviously want
it'."

Red looked away, wistful.

She finally sighed, rolled over, and got up out of the bed.

"Thank you for talking to me about it, though. Most guys just leave right after they come, and I'm
stuck alone in my head. It really sucks in there sometimes, you know?"

"Now that, I definitely know the feeling of," said Kenny, managing a small laugh.

He briefly watched as Red grabbed her panties and proceeded to put them back on. He turned
away, feeling that it wasn't quite right to watch her get dressed after everything she had said. Kenny
felt awful. The sex was great, but he didn't want Red's night to end like this while he simply went
home and slept, feeling good about himself. He had to do something to make this right for her.

By the time she was slipping her shoes back onto her feet, Kenny started to laugh. She looked over
at him, perplexed.

"I have an idea. I don't want you to remember this night in any other way but fondly. If you're
afraid to go downstairs alone, let's go together," he said.

"Kenny, I don't know how much that will help."

"If we go down together and make a big ridiculous spectacle out of it, people will hopefully
remember the humor and fun of that, and not the bullshit judgment. Do you trust me?"

Red hesitated. She gnawed at the corner of her lip. She tried to think of a reason that she shouldn't
trust Kenny right then, but couldn't come up with one. She nodded her head and sat down on the
corner of the bed.

"Okay. Tell me more about this plan."

Clyde had been grinding up against Bebe for a few songs now, and was beginning to get aroused.
Given the way that Bebe's body was moving against his, he had a feeling that she was, too. He
nuzzled his face into the crook of her neck and mumbled into her ear.

"Are you sure you're not interested in hooking up tonight, Bebe?"

"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't really into this right now—it brings back fond memories of when we
were together—but I'm one hundred percent sure that we're not fucking tonight."
"Mehhh," Clyde pouted.

"But I do want to keep dancing like this, as long as you do. Why don't you go request a song?"

Clyde leaned forward and lightly kissed her cheek. He pulled back from the cluster of people
dancing and headed over to Kevin's DJ station. He saw Kevin put down his phone and smile to
himself.

"Hey Kev, can I request a slow jam? Like…any one really, as long as it's sexy."

Kevin chuckled to himself and nodded. "Yeah, I'll get that going for you in a bit. I have a few
requests ahead of it."

"Okay, cool. Thanks."

Clyde continued to stare at Kevin while he clicked through the musical library on his computer,
still chuckling to himself under his breath.

"What's so funny, dude?" Clyde asked. He leaned over the table and tried to get a look at the
monitor.

"Hey, hey, hey!" Kevin shooed Clyde away from his electronics. "This shit is expensive and this
table isn't exactly the sturdiest, so don't lean on it. Also, you'll see what's so funny in about three
minutes."

"You suck, Kevin!"

"Do you want to take that back? I don't have to accept requests, you know, so if you really want a
slow jam to rub your dick against Bebe's ass some more…"

Clyde's eyes widened and his face flushed. "Shit! I'm sorry Kev! You don't suck, I suck!"

Kevin crossed his arms and smiled. "That's better. Request granted. Now go over there and dance,
you dork."

Clyde opened his mouth, wanting to comment on how it was ironic that the computer science kid
was calling the jock a dork, but he quickly shut it and went back to dancing.

Not five minutes later, the pulsing synth of a new song began.

"Sometimes…something beautiful happens in this world…"

Clyde smiled. He couldn't place where he knew the song, but it sounded familiar, and the opening
lines of the song were positive and sounded hopeful. He felt like he really needed that right now.

"You don't know how to express yourself, so…you just gotta sing!"

The rest of the students seemed to know the song, as the cheerleaders began to scream and most of
the football players came into the living room to join in the revelry. Clyde felt a little awkward,
like he was the only one who didn't get an inside joke. He knew he knew the song, but he just
couldn't quite place it.

He didn't have an opportunity to figure it out before there was a loud thump behind him and the
other students erupted into cheers.

"I just had sex, and it felt so good!"

Clyde spun around and saw that Kenny had jumped over the staircase railing. His arms were up in
the air and he was swaying back and forth to the music in victory. Clyde raised his eyebrow when
he noticed that Kenny was also mouthing the lyrics to the song. Was he seriously doing this right
now? The strip show wasn't enough? He had to rub it in Clyde's face one final time? Clyde grit his
teeth, but took a deep breath and stayed remarkably calm.

"It felt so good when I did it with my penis. A girl let me do it, it literally just happened…"

Kenny began to dance in front of the railing, continuing to mouth the lyrics as the verse began. Red
then appeared behind him, coming down the stairs and shaking her head. They both pointed
upstairs on the line it literally just happened, which made their friends cheer even louder.

"So this one's dedicated to them girls that let us flop around on top of them…"

Kenny put his arm around Red's waist and pulled her in close. She rolled her eyes and pretended to
push him away, but her smile gave away that she was playing a part. She eventually slipped her
arm around him in return and they began to both actually sing the song, with exceptional gusto.

"I just had sex and my dreams came true, so if you had sex in the last thirty minutes then you're
qualified to sing with me!"

The coincidental timing was like a sitcom, but Token and Nichole burst in through the front door
right as the song hit the final chorus. The two of them were singing at the top of their lungs,
confirming Clyde's previous suspicion of where they had run off to. Their energy led the others to
join in singing. Clyde shook his head. Didn't they hear the lyrics? They could only sing if they had
sex within the last half an hour. Clyde had been with these assholes for the past thirty minutes and,
unless they had perfected secret dance-fucking, there was no sex had by any of them.

Clyde sighed and stepped out from the group. He knew that everyone was having fun and Bebe
had told him to lighten up tonight, but this was feeling overwhelming to him. He moved into the
kitchen to take a breather.

Once he calmed down, he remembered that Kenny's shirt was still in his pants. Honestly, all of the
dancing and grinding had distracted him and he had gotten used to the feeling of it there. He
unbuttoned his pants and pulled down the zipper. He pulled on the fabric until the entire shirt was
out, then held it between his knees while he adjusted himself, then re-zipped and buttoned his
pants. He took the smelly dick-sweat shirt in his hands and muttered perfect. That's when he heard
the loud sound of a straw sucking the last drops of liquid out of a cup.

Clyde spun around to find Cartman standing on the opposite side of the room, cup in hand.

"How long have you been there?" asked Clyde.

"Since you last talked to me."

"So…you just saw all of that."

"Yup."

"Okay, Cartman, I know it looks weird, but I have a totally good reason for-"

Cartman held up his hand to interrupt Clyde.

"Look Clyde, I'm not about to kink shame one of my best players. Whatever you need to do to get
off…you do you, dude. We're already one and zero, so clearly it's working. Just don't do a Hot
Cosby, alright? It's a PR nightmare."

Clyde stared blankly at Cartman. "Uh…yeah…I promise I won't do any Hot Cosbies."

"Okay good. Be on your way, then."

Clyde watched as Cartman grabbed another soda and began to slurp it down with a crazy straw. He
shook his head, trying to wrap his brain around what just happened. Realizing that he'd never truly
understand what goes on in Cartman's head, he quickly left the kitchen and ran right into Token and
Nichole.

"Hey! Where'd you disappear to, man?" asked Token.

"Me? I've been here the whole time and just ducked into the kitchen for a minute. Where
did you disappear to, dude? Wait, no, don't answer that, already I know where you two went."

Clyde sighed, frustrated. Token and Nichole looked at one another with concern.

"I'm sorry. I've been having a weird night. I, uh…I'm feeling kinda down right now, so I think I'm
gonna head home."

"Alrighty. Take care of yourself, Clyde." Nichole opened up her arms for a Grade A Donovan hug.
"Get some rest, okay? You've had a long day."

"I'll text you tomorrow." Token slapped Clyde on the back as he broke the hug with Nichole.

"Yeah, man. Thanks. You guys have fun. I just have one more thing to do before I go. "

Clyde looked past his friends and focused on his target across the room. He slipped past them and
walked straight toward Kenny.

Kenny broke his hug with Red. "I think it worked?" he laughed. "Everyone seemed to get into
singing along with the song and now no one even seems to remember why it was playing in the
first place."

"Yeah…so far, so good, at least!" She smiled warmly at Kenny. "Thank you. For everything
tonight. It was nice talking to you after all the other stuff. I don't have many close male friends
because they're usually only trying to fuck me. So…I guess what I'm trying to say is, I hope that I
can call you a friend, and if you ever want to chat about whatever, you have my number."

"Yeah. I'd like that."

"You're a good guy, Kenny McCormick," she said, clapping her hand on Kenny's back.

"You're a good woman, Red…uh…dude, what is your last name, anyway?" he asked.

Red brushed her hair aside and smiled playfully. "I'm like Beyonce. I don't need a last name. It's a
branding thing."

"Yeah, but Beyonce actually has a—"

"I said it's a branding thing!" she said quickly, laughing.

Red felt a tap on her shoulder. Turning around, she found Clyde towering behind her.

"Hey Red, could I talk to McCormick for a sec?" he asked.

 "Yeah, go right ahead." She turned back to Kenny and touched his shoulder. "I'm gonna go back to
dancing. I'll see you around!"

Kenny watched as she disappeared into the mass of dancing students. He turned back to Clyde and
folded his arms.

"What do you want, Donovan?"

"Nothing from you, asshole. I'm just trying to give you your damn shirt back. You left it on the
floor and I found it. I'm trying to be fucking nice."

Clyde shoved the shirt into Kenny's arms.

"Thanks," Kenny muttered.

Clyde then leaned in close to look Kenny in the eyes.

"You may have won this round, McCormick, but don't get too cocky. Cause you're not going to win
the game. I win games. You saw proof of that earlier tonight."

He stood up straight and stepped back.

"I'm going home, so enjoy the rest of your victory lap while it lasts."

Clyde turned on his heel and headed toward the door. He turned around to close the door and
caught a glimpse of Kenny putting on the shirt and smelling the fabric with a confused and
disgusted look on his face. As he approached his car, Clyde smiled. At least now the night wasn't a
complete disaster.

Chapter End Notes

Song lyrics: "I Just Had Sex" by The Lonely Island

September 7-8
 Of Secret Photographs and Secret Admirers
Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Clyde fell face first into his bed as soon as he got home. He woke up hours later when Mr. Tucker
decided to mow the lawn. He rubbed his eyes and tried to blink the sleep away. When he sat up and
his head began to pound, the memories of the party flooded back into his consciousness. Sure, he
had had a lot of fun with Bebe and the cheerleaders, but he had left Stan’s house point-less. Clyde
had no definitive proof that Red had slept with Kenny, but he also didn’t think that Kenny would
have devised some elaborate plan to make Clyde think that he had scored a point, when in reality,
he hadn’t.

Clyde sighed and grabbed his phone. He grimaced when he discovered the battery had died
overnight. He quickly plugged it in and decided that he might as well go downstairs to get
something to eat.

When he entered the kitchen, he found his dad making a sandwich.

“So you are alive,” Mr. Donovan chuckled.

“What time is it, anyway?” Clyde asked. “My phone died, so I didn’t get to check.”

“There’s an alarm clock in your room. You could have just…” Mr. Donovan sighed. “Anyway, it’s
about noon. What time did you get home last night? I thought you were going to sleep over the
Marsh’s house?”

“I think it was about three, three thirty. And yeah, that had been the plan, but…some stuff
happened and I wasn’t really having fun anymore, so I walked home. I’ll grab E. Honda from
Stan’s house later today.”

“Well, I’m glad you got home safe. You know I worry about you all the time, Clyde. It’s a parent
thing.”

Clyde began to hover next to his father, eyeballing the sandwich that he was making.

“I’m taking this as you’d like me to make you one?” he asked.

“Yes please!” Clyde chirped.

The two of them sat together and ate lunch. Clyde told him all about the game, since his dad had to
run the store Friday night and hadn’t been able to attend. His dad said he’d asked one of the parents
to send him the video, because in this day and age, someone definitely filmed it on their phone. It
was a nice moment between father and son.

Once Clyde was finished, he excused himself and ran back upstairs. He grabbed his phone and
turned it on, now that it was fully charged. He flopped onto his bed, ready to browse Youtube for
any new viral videos. While he was scrolling down the trending list, a text notification suddenly
popped onto his phone.

It was from Kenny.

“I should have never agreed to sharing my number with that fucker,” Clyde mumbled to himself.
He rolled his eyes and opened the app.

Ignore these texts. This was a mistake. Delete the photos, Donovan. And if you even think about
sharing these with anyone else, I’ll cut your fucking dick off. Got it?

Clyde furrowed his brow in confusion more than anger. What the hell was Kenny getting on about
anyway? Clyde scrolled up to try to figure out what Kenny was taking about, and got an eyeful of
genitals. Upon further inspection, Clyde realized that these genitals belonged to two of his fellow
students.

What the fuck? Kenny had had the audacity to take pictures of him and Red having sex?! What an
asshole! …And also a master of charisma, apparently. How the hell did he convince Red to let him
take these? Is that something girls are really into? Clyde had never tried bringing it up before.
Unless Kenny took them without Red knowing? He probably did just that…because he’s an
asshole!

The very top of the text from Kenny read I just got some good pussy. What did you do tonight,
Donovan? Of course it fucking did. McCormick had only done this to get into his head. He wanted
Clyde to feel the agony of defeat early and frequently. He probably figured that if he got enough
points early on, Clyde would give up on the whole thing. Well, that was a bad plan because it only
fueled Clyde to want it even more. He had meant every word that he had said to Kenny before he
left the party. Clyde Donovan is a man who keeps playing until the final second and makes sure he
secures that win.

Clyde sighed. This certainly was not what he expected to see on his phone today, or any day for
that matter. He rolled over onto his back. Still…as he stared at the pictures—they were already
sent to his phone, it was harmless if he took a little peek, right?—he had to admit that they were
pretty hot. Red had an amazing body, and Clyde was legitimately jealous of Kenny for getting to
hook up with her.

He was also jealous of Kenny for his own body. Clyde bristled as he stared at the picture of
Kenny’s chest and abs. He was slender and perfect, but he still had muscle definition. How the fuck
did Kenny McCormick have muscle definition? He’d only brought bologna or peanut butter
sandwiches to school for years, and that wasn’t nearly enough protein to build muscle. But
somehow, he ended up with this tight little body.

Clyde grumbled to himself and looked down at his own soft midsection. Underneath was strong
muscle, but no one who ever saw him with his shirt off would be able to tell. I really need to go on
a diet, he thinks to himself. And work out more…and stop eating Taco Bell even though it’s so
good…and I should go for runs more often…like right now…yeah, a run, that’s a great idea.

Clyde put his phone down and sat up with the full intention of heading out for a run. That is, until
he realized that he had a full on erection. Dammit, why did he have a hard on right now of all
times? He fell back onto his bed and picked up his phone once more. It was because he had been
looking at these pictures of Red getting railed. Yes. That was obviously the reason why his dick
was straining against his pants at this very moment.

It’s not weird to jerk off to pictures of people you know having sex…right? Clyde thought to
himself. People send nudes all the time…this is normal nowadays…it’s not creepy if I use it as
porn…

Whether or not Clyde was fully convinced, his pants were already unbuttoned and his hand was
already wrapped around himself. A quick jerk never hurt anyone, and there was no time like the
present for getting out whatever fantasies about Red were lurking in the recesses of his mind. His
large hand wrapped around his cock and lazily stroked up and down the shaft.

He admired the soft curve of Red’s hips and ass in the first photo. Clyde usually considered
himself a tit man foremost, which made him disappointed that he wasn’t able to see her front, but
he also appreciated a fine ass. He could imagine how plush and pliable Red’s was by the way that
Kenny’s long calloused fingers squeezed into her flesh.

The second picture. Clyde began to stroke himself faster as he gawked at how Red’s pussy seemed
to swallow dick whole. Her wet lips wrapped around Kenny’s cock, gripping tight and not letting
go. A perfect fit. A moan escaped Clyde’s lips. Fuck, he wanted to feel that, too.

Quickly swiping to the third photo as he felt himself getting closer, Clyde felt a spark run through
him. He grunted and scowled at the picture. Kenny took up more of this photo than Red did. Kenny
and his slim shoulders were hogging the frame. His toned arm tightening up as he pulled back on
Red's hips. His head hung low in concentration, focusing all of his attention on Red, even as his
other hand held up his phone to take the photo. Were those his thighs in the shadows at the bottom
of the photo? They looked sinewy, but Clyde couldn't tell for sure. He could see his hips, though—
angled forward, his ass tightened in mid-thrust. He hated Kenny for this. He hated him for scoring
a point before him and taunting him with it. Teasing him. He hated Kenny for how his balls were
tight and...wait those were Clyde's balls tightening and...oh God, I'm coming... He spilled out, hot
and wet, over his hand.

Clyde dropped his phone onto his bed. His hand was still holding his now softening shaft. He
stared up at the ceiling, not really knowing what to think. His breathing began to slow, returning to
a regular pace. He didn’t want to acknowledge the fact that his orgasm had been excellent. One of
the better ones that he’d had in months, actually. He didn’t want to acknowledge this, knowing that
he had been looking at Kenny McCormick at the time that he came. It had nothing to do with that
douche. He had just been so aroused by Red’s body that he became overwhelmed with pleasure.
That was it. It had to be.

Clyde grabbed some tissues from his bedside table and wiped himself off before tucking himself
back into his pants. He grabbed his headphones and headed downstairs to go for that run.

He decided to never think of this moment again.

Kenny was thankful that he hadn't had much to drink the night before. His shifts at City Wok over
the weekend would have really sucked if he'd been hungover. Then again, Chinese food did make
for decent hangover food. Mr. Kim would sometimes let Kenny take home leftover food at the end
of the night. He couldn't rely on it to always feed his family, but it was a nice break from usual
plain white rice, canned tuna, or peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

Kenny worked under the table for Mr. Kim, so he didn't have to pay taxes, which was nice, but he
also had zero benefits. He had actually asked Mr. Kim about that once and he laughed in Kenny's
face. Still, he was a decent boss—he was flexible with the schedule, so Kenny worked whenever
he could—and Kenny was a hard worker. Sometimes he helped clean the store, but most of the
time he was City Wok's number one guy for delivery orders. His job and his truck were entangled
in a codependent relationship. He relied on his truck to make money, but most of the money went
to keeping his truck running.

Still, he did occasionally receive a really nice tip from customers. They were usually his regulars,
but his favorite ones were from older women who gave him twenty bucks just for being cute. It
lined his pockets and his ego. That Sunday night he had received one such tip, so he was feeling
good and decided to treat his sister.
"You seem in a really good mood this morning," Karen chirped.

Kenny glanced over at her while he snapped on his seatbelt. "Oh yeah? What makes you say that?"

"Well for one thing, you were singing pop songs while making breakfast."

"Was I?" Kenny feigned ignorance, his smile growing bigger.

"Yes, you dork!” she laughed. “You were! And I know when you're with your friends you like to
be seen as mister hardcore rock drummer guy, but I know you secretly like pop music because
whenever you’re feeling some sort of strong emotion, be it happiness, anger, sadness, whatever,
you start singing some pop song that reflects how you’re feeling.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he grinned.

“Says the guy who was belting out Baby One More Time into the Poptart box…”

“Oh that? That was totes the Dweezil and Ahmet Zappa version. So…still rock.”

Kenny flashed Karen his gap-toothed smile and winked. He received a hard eye roll from her as she
snapped her own seatbelt on and slouched down on the bench seat.

Kenny pressed his lips together. He knew it could be exhausting being his little sister. She often
tried to get him to open up about his feelings, but he was stubborn and continued to hide them
behind a wall of charming smiles, sly winks, and jokes. He reached into his worn backpack and
pulled out a folded brown paper bag and placed it on her lap.

"What's this?" she asked.

"What's the matter? I can't give my little sister gifts anymore? Are you too old and cool for free
stuff?"

"No, it's not that," she said, rolling her eyes again. "I just know brown paper bags are usually
suspicious. I just wanna make sure you didn't buy me porn or anything."

Kenny couldn't help but giggle at the comment.

"You don't have to worry about me buying you porn until your eighteenth birthday. But be warned,
when I do, it's gonna be freaky."

"Eww no!" Karen giggled in return, pushing Kenny away from her.

Kenny finally handed the bag to Karen, who reluctantly took it. She opened the crinkling paper and
pulled out a pad of fancy looking stationary paper and a new pen. The pen had glitter embedded in
it and Karen was mesmerized by the sparkles.

"This is beautiful, Kenny! Thank you!" She wrapped her arms around his thin waist and pulled him
into a hug. "I'm gonna write so many notes to my friends with this!"

Kenny felt warm inside as he turned the ignition on and pulled out across the train tracks and onto
actual paved road.

"So how did you like the game on Friday? I saw you losing your mind in the crowd."

Karen placed the stationary in her backpack and calmly folded her hands in her lap before
exploding with excitement.
"It was awesome! Just everything about it! The crowd was so loud! And Billy the Bull was
hilarious! I need to take a picture with him at the next game!"

Kenny snorted. He wasn't about to tell Karen that the school's mascot was Eric Cartman. He'd seen
the look on many people's faces when they found out and he didn't want to see the look of
disappointment on Karen's face.

"And then the cheerleaders were even greater than I'd imagined! I didn't even know that there was
a guy cheerleader! Do you know what his name is?"

"Scott? Yeah he's pretty cool. Who'd have guessed he'd end up being as cool as he is, honestly."

"What do you mean?"

"Ah, he was kind of a dorky kid. Me and the guys used to rip on him a lot. I'm not proud of it. But
over one summer he hit puberty and suddenly got kinda jacked. So like I said...who would've
guessed?"

"I like him. I also like Bebe a lot. She's like this wondrous blonde angel."

"You should draw a portrait of her like that. I could totally give it to her for you. I bet she'd love
some fan art of herself."

"Really?" Karen beamed.

"Yeah, probably."

Karen continued to gush about anything and everything related to the game. She didn't seem quite
as impressed by the marching band as Kenny had hoped, but he chalked it up to the fact that she
was around him and his drumming every day, so it didn’t feel novel anymore.

Finally, they pulled into the school parking lot. The two siblings exited the truck and Kenny
locked up, even though he didn't have anything valuable in the cab and no one in their right mind
would want to steal his truck anyway. Karen continued to talk excitedly about the football game as
they approached the school doors.

"I was biting my nails near the end of the game. I didn't think they were going to win! That catch
by Clyde was so intense! Poor Tricia and Craig practically had to hold me down so I didn't jump
out of my seat."

Kenny's face soured at the mention of Clyde. He hadn't thought of him at all the entire weekend,
and it had been a welcome break. He was fooling himself to think that it would continue once he
got back to school, though.

"Yeah, it really was a good play."

They entered the building and Kenny instinctively continued to his locker. Karen followed him all
the way there, too wrapped up in her thoughts. When they finally reached his locker, Clyde was
waiting there for him. Kenny had to restrain himself around Karen. He knew she idolized Clyde
and he didn't want to disappoint her with his real feelings.

"What do you want, Donovan?"

"Can I talk to you for a moment?" Clyde looked at Karen and smiled. "Hey Karen."
Karen turned beet red. She opened up her mouth to speak, but no sound came out. When she
realized that she had temporarily become mute due to nerves, she hid her face in Kenny's tattered
t-shirt.

"Yeah, sure, whatever," Kenny continued, protectively pulling Karen closer to him.

Clyde shifted his weight from foot to foot, looking increasingly uncomfortable. His eyes made
quick glances between Karen and Kenny.

"Could we, uh… talk in private?” he asked.

Kenny sighed and looked down at his clinging sister. "Alright Karen, it's time for you to get going
to your own locker."

Karen nodded quickly and finally managed to look Clyde in the eyes.

“See ya, Clyde!”

She ran off down the hallway, dodging other students, her arms up over her head in a bizarre
attempt to hide herself.

“So. We’re alone now.”

Kenny folded his arms and moved in closer to Clyde.

“You got my text, Donovan?” Kenny asked.

Clyde felt eerily intimidated by the shorter man, even though he was eighty-three percent sure that
he could kick Kenny’s ass in a fight. Kenny wasn’t exactly physically intimidating, but his bright
blue eyes could sear right through your skin. Clyde was feeling his skin prickling with heat from
the intensity of his stare. Clyde subtly puffed out his chest and cleared his throat to try to bring
back his confidence.

“I suppose you’ll have to specify which one, since you apparently couldn’t stop texting me at the
party,” Clyde responded.

“Cut the shit, Donovan.”

“You do realize that you’re a huge fucking creep for taking sexual pictures of a fellow classmate
without their knowledge and then sending them, unsolicited, to a different classmate? That’s sexual
harassment, McCormick.”

“Those are some big words that your caveman brain is able to come up with. I’m impressed.”

Clyde’s eyes flickered to Kenny’s mouth. The muscles in his jaw were clenching and flexing as he
spoke. Clyde was fascinated with their movement, despite the fact that any bystander would have
been able to see that it meant a storm was brewing inside of Kenny.

“You know, I should take my phone to PC Principal and show him those harassing texts. I bet Vice
Principal Woman would love them, too.”

“You fucking sonuvabitch!”

Kenny’s arm snapped out and he shoved his finger in Clyde’s face. Clyde was taken by surprise,
staggering back into the lockers with a loud clang! Kenny pressed his body against Clyde’s and
whispered loudly, teeth clenched.
“Those photos were fucking consensual! I asked Red first if I could take them and she said yes! So
don’t you dare call me a sexual harasser! Got it?”

Clyde’s eyes were wide and unblinking. He hadn’t expected Kenny to explode like that, even
though he was obviously antagonizing him. Once he regained his cool, his face shifted from shock
to smug.

“Okay, got it. …But did you ask her if you could send them to me?”

Kenny’s face softened. His eyes fell to the floor and he stepped away sheepishly.

“No. I didn’t. I let my stupid pride and this dumbass bet of yours get the best of me. The second I
came to my senses and realized it was an awful fucking idea, that’s when I sent the other text.”

He ran his hand over his face and sighed deeply.

“So please Donovan. Tell me you deleted those photos. Not for my sake. For Red. She doesn’t
deserve this.”

Clyde nodded.

“Yeah. She’s a cool chick.”

He reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out his phone. He unlocked the screen, and then
while looking Kenny in the eyes, held out the device to him.

“Here. You can check for your message. You’ll see I deleted it.”

Kenny eyed Clyde with suspicion. He hesitated for a moment before taking the phone from
Clyde’s hand. Kenny opened the texting app and scrolled down, finding nothing but stupid group
texts from Clyde’s football buddies, texts to Craig and Bebe, and texts from Mr Donovan.

“You can check my photos, too, if you want. They’re not in there,” said Clyde.

Kenny went into Clyde’s photos and found nothing related to Friday night. He did, however, find
something arguably worse.

“Oh, come on!” Kenny cried out, tossing the phone back at Clyde and looking away. “Dude!”

“What?” Clyde asked before looking at the screen. “Oh those.” Clyde raised an eyebrow at Kenny.
“You mean you don’t take selfies in your underwear?”

“I can’t with you right now. I need you to go. I’m going to be late for first period.”

Clyde shoved his phone back in his pocket and lumbered away to his first class. When he turned
the corner, he glanced back at Kenny, still getting his things from his locker. What Kenny didn’t
know wouldn’t hurt him. Kenny didn’t need to know that the photos of him and Red were on
Clyde’s computer in the folder labeled “Sometimes You Feel Like a Nut”.

Spanish was Clyde’s first period class. It sucked. He struggled with it once he passed the basic
levels, but he knew it was a college requirement. If only Park County High offered German classes.
He’d ace the shit out of that. Ah well. Craig was in the same Spanish class, so that was a plus.
Most of the reason that Clyde was still even afloat in the class was Craig’s tutorship. Clyde
slumped down into his desk next to his best friend and audibly sighed.

“Don’t tell me you’re still hungover from Friday night,” Craig said while he doodled in the
margins of his notebook. “You’re gonna fuck up your liver drinking like that.”

“Nah dude. I’ve been fine since Saturday afternoon. I just had a weird moment with McCormick.”

“Weird how?” Craig looked up from his doodles and tapped his pencil against his chin.

Clyde was at an impasse. He wasn’t dumb enough to tell Craig about the photos Kenny sent him.
They weren’t any of Craig’s business, even if he was Kenny’s second. However, he had to come up
with something to say since he had bothered to open up this can of worms in the first place.

“He overheard me telling a chick about my awesome underwear selfies and came up to me just to
tell me I was a fool for taking them.”

Clyde stared at Craig’s face, hoping he’d buy the lame lie. Craig stared blankly back for a few
seconds before returning to his notebook.

“You are a fool. Sounds like an accurate assessment to me.”

“Dammit, Craig! You’re supposed to have my back!”

“Only when that back has a shirt on it. Seriously, Clyde. Why would you take selfies in your
underwear?”

“Cause how else am I going to get sweet pics of me flexing?”

“Why am I your friend again?” Craig asked sarcastically.

“Because your life would be a hell of a lot more boring without me,” said Clyde.

“If only…” Craig sighed, looking up, out into the distance.

“Hey!” Clyde pouted. “You’re an asshole, dude. But I love you. Are we on for lunch this
afternoon?”

Craig looked at his best friend out of the corner of his eye and smiled. He wasn’t one for
excitement, but he wouldn’t have anyone else for a friend.

“Definitely. And love you, too, bro.”

“So not too much happened at Stan’s party after you left. Other than me and the squad continuing
to tear it up on the dance floor.”

Bebe did some dance moves as she and Clyde strolled down the hallway.

“That’s good, I guess. I would be pissed if something epic had gone down and I wasn’t there to see
it. I never want to be that guy.”

“I’d make sure to film it on my phone and Snapchat it to you. You’d still be that guy, but you’d at
least be able to see it second hand.”

“You’re a good friend, Bebe,” Clyde said sarcastically.

She lightly punched him in the arm as the stopped in front of Clyde’s locker. Clyde took off his
backpack and dug out a small scrap of paper from the outer pocket. It had three numbers on it.
After the debacle on the first day of school, Clyde had begged Craig to write out his locker
 combination for him. Craig had made fun of him for a good fifteen minutes before he agreed.

Once the combination was entered and Clyde heard the loud click that the lever made when it was
lifted, he opened the locker door and out fell a small folded up piece of pink paper.

“What the hell?”

Clyde bent down to pick up the small square. When he held it up in front of him, he caught a faint
smell of roses on the paper.

“Oh shit. I think this might be a love note,” he said, grinning.

“Why do you say that?” asked Bebe.

“Take a whiff,” Clyde said as he held the paper in front of Bebe.

She inhaled deeply while nodding her head.

“That’s definitely Morning Rose Dew from the Girly Girl collection. I think you may be right.
Open it! What does it say!”

Clyde fumbled with the neatly folded paper, trying not to leave wrinkles. The inside of the paper
was full of cute drawings of flowers, hearts, and what appeared to be footballs with angel wings. In
the center of the paper was a simple poem written with a lovely flourish.

“Roses are red/

Violets are blue/

That winning catch was super cool/

And so are you,” Clyde and Bebe both read in unison.

“Signed by ‘Your Secret Admirer’. Well that’s not very original, but the note is very cute. I can’t
believe that it’s only the second week of school and you’re already getting notes from secret
crushes.”

“What can I say? I have hundreds of adoring fans. There’s a reason I say that I’m a big deal.”

Bebe rolled her eyes and placed her hands on her hips.

“More like a big dork. Now hurry up or we’re going to be late for practice.”

Clyde grabbed his gear bag from his locker and closed it. He carefully folded the note up again
and opened his backpack. He took one last smell of the note before tossing it inside.

“Secret admirer, huh? I wonder who it could be.”

Chapter End Notes

Timeline: September 8-10

 Clyde's Secret Admirer
Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

"Ready? Okay!"

"Park County Bulls! Going strong! We're gonna win, and it won't take long!"

"More energy, Annie! Keep those arms straight, Nichole!" Coach Lahey strolled back and forth as
the cheer team ran through their basic cheers after warming up.

"Park County Bulls! Doing it right! Rack up the score! Fight! Fight! Fight!"

Lisa and Scott worked together to throw Red in the air with a basket toss. She performed a toe
touch while in the air and came back down into Lisa, Scott, Annie, and Nichole's arms.

"Great extension, Red! Scott and Lisa, great height on that toss!"

Lisa and Scott gave each other a high five while the rest of the squad returned to their starting
formation.

"Go! Go! Go! Go!" Coach McKay yelled from behind them.

The cheerleaders all turned around to see what sort of commotion was going on. They saw Clyde
sprinting down the field to the end zone, football in tow.

"Woah! Clyde is really killing it today!" said Nichole.

"Yeah, the dummy is in a really good mood today, so that's probably why he's giving it his all,
even though it's only Monday," Bebe explained.

"What the hell happened that put him in such a good mood?" asked Annie.

"He found a love note from a mystery person in his locker. He thinks it's from an adoring fan,"
Bebe answered, shaking her head and smiling.

"Ooh! A secret admirer! How scandalous!" Red joked.

"Come on, you guys. Let's not allow the football team to upstage us. Let's practice even harder!"
said Scott.

He raised his fist in the air, trying to rally the rest of the squad. They responded with a hearty
battlecry.

Meanwhile, Clyde rolled around in the end zone, soaking in the moment. Even though it was just a
weekday practice, to him it felt like it was a playoff game and everything was on the line. He
finally picked himself back off the ground and leisurely ran back to the fifty yard line, tossing the
ball to the center.

Play after play, Clyde was running faster, hitting harder with his tackles, and hadn't missed a catch
all afternoon. When they finally had a water break, Token and Stan were eager to know what had
gotten into him.
"Clyde! Dude! What's going on out there today? You're a fucking beast!" Stan exclaimed.

Token pulled off Clyde's helmet and tossed it to Stan. He then mussed up Clyde's warm brown
locks before putting him in a friendly headlock.

"Yeah man! What gives?" he asked.

Clyde laughed and wriggled out of his friend's notably weak headlock. He took a cup full of the
water that Cartman was handing out and plopped down on the bench.

"I can't tell you guys. It's a secret," he grinned.

"Really? That's fucking lame, dude! Don't pussy out on us like that!" Stan said, rolling his eyes.

"This isn't me pussying out, Stan," Clyde said, running his fingers through his hair.

His hair was always messy by the end of the day—a helmet plus a copious amount of sweat did not
lend itself to good style—but he refused to stop trying to make his hair look somewhat presentable.
He never knew when a hottie might come by, and he wanted to make sure he looked his best, just
in case.

"If I were to tell everyone my exciting new training secret, then it wouldn't be exciting, new, or a
secret anymore. Everyone would be able to be as awesome as me, which would mean that I wasn't
awesome anymore. I'd just be average."

Stan and Token gave each other a look.

"Fine, dude. Whatever works for you, works for the team," said Token.

The three finished their waters, laughing at a joke Token had heard from Jimmy earlier that day.

Across the field, Kenny was watching them. He had initially looked over because there had been
so much commotion. He fumed at how happy Clyde looked. He had made Kenny so pissed off
earlier that day that he felt it was unfair that Clyde was allowed to be that happy. This was a fact
that he had told Tweek several times already. Tweek was starting to grow weary of it.

"I'm not sure why you bother letting him get to you. Normally it's kinda funny, but right now
you're being annoying as shit. Just avoid him, dude. I mean, yeah we have to see him at football
games and across the field during rehearsal, but other than that… Like you don't even have any
fucking classes with him, so why were you even hanging out in the first place?"

"We were discussing an altercation that happened at the party on Friday. It was important," Kenny
responded.

Kenny's jaw clenched. He was actively avoiding eye contact with Tweek. Tweek picked up on this
immediately, but didn't mention it. He didn't want to get involved with whatever high school drama
was already making Kenny boring and lame.

"Hey, drumline!" Wendy called out from her podium.

"Hey, drum major!" Kenny called back sarcastically.

"Focus, please!"

She sighed, frustrated that she was losing the people's attention so early in the week. She took a
beat and continued the pep talk she had been in the middle of.
"I know we did a great job on Friday, but we need to work hard to improve if we want to win the
state championship again. Remember! 3 B D!"

She cupped her hand around her ear and leaned forward, smiling when the band called back.

"Bitches better bow down!"

"So let's do this!" Wendy cheered.

Both rehearsals ended as the sun began to lower in the sky. Kyle ran up to Wendy, trumpet case in
hand, while she was folding up the podium.

"Hey Wendy!" he said with a smile.

"Hey Kyle," she smiled back.

She leaned the podium onto its wheels and began to walk toward the shed. Kyle followed after her.

"The new Marvel movie comes out this Friday. I was wondering if you wanted to go see it with me
Saturday night?" he asked. "It looks really good!"

Wendy glanced at him as she continued walking. "Saturday, huh?" Her smile morphed into a
frown. "I can't Saturday. The Testaburger clan is having a huge family reunion thing in Boulder.
Great-grandma's ninetieth birthday and all."

"Oh...I understand." Kyle felt dejected, but tried his best to hide it.

"But I'll be back on Sunday. We could go see it that afternoon?" Wendy suggested.

"Yeah, that'd be great!"

Wendy stored the podium in its usual spot and locked up the shed once she was certain that
everything was put back inside of it. She stepped outside and looked over at the locker room
entrance.

Across the field, Stan said goodbye to his teammates. He gave Clyde and Token a smack on the
ass, as was the bizarre homoerotic football jock tradition. He walked toward the locker room
doors, swinging his helmet back and forth. He had a bit of a swagger in his step, feeling really
good about the team's work that day.

Wendy smiled when she caught sight of him. She turned to Kyle and placed her hand on his
shoulder.

"Alright, it's a date then. Text me the times, okay?" She started to walk away, quickly breaking
into a run toward Stan. She looked back behind her, calling out, "I'll see you tomorrow, Kyle!"

Stan noticed something moving out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head right as Wendy ran
up to him, throwing her arms around his neck.

"Hey babe!" he chuckled, having not expected such a greeting. "Give me a few minutes to go
shower. I'm all sweaty and smelly and shit."

Wendy buried her face into his chest and breathed in his scent. "I know. I like it. With everything I
have to do for the band, I don't usually get to see you like this." She nuzzled her nose against his
jersey.
"Well damn, if you're gonna get like this, I'll never fucking shower again," he said.

Wendy pulled away, raising her eyebrow at him. "Okay, let's not get hyperbolic about it."

"Nice try, babe. Clyde told me that's not a real word."

"Oh my god, you're so dumb. You need to stop listening to Clyde," she laughed. "I just...I know it
makes me come off as crude and uncultured, but...even strong women have…" She cleared her
throat. "...urges...you know?"

Stan's ears perked up. "Urges, huh? Would you like to do something about these cavewoman urges
of yours?" he grinned.

Wendy bit her lower lip. "Meet me in my car in ten minutes." She stood on her toes to kiss Stan.

Back on the band field, Kenny came up to Kyle from behind.

"Whatcha looking at?" he asked. He followed Kyle's gaze to Stan and Wendy making out. "Yeah.
Makes me sick to my stomach, too. It's best if you just look away, buddy."

Kenny patted Kyle on the back and turned away, heading for the stands to get Karen so they could
go home. Kyle frowned, but followed Kenny's advice anyway.

I like that you are tough

I think your arms are super buff

I love to see the way you strut

Cuz I like to stare at your butt

Clyde grinned at the new note. It made him stupidly happy that it had not been a one-time thing.
He had been in such a good mood yesterday, and this new love poem kept the positive vibes going.
He passed the note to Bebe in English class. When she read it, she snorted out loud in the middle of
someone reading a particularly depressing passage from King Lear. She shrugged when the teacher
gave her a dirty look.

Out on the football field, Clyde continued his domination. He started to try out different end zone
dances and poses, insisting that it was "hella important" he get it right before Friday when Coach
McKay asked him what he was doing.

Token took Stan aside while they were resetting a play. They agreed that something had to be
going on with Clyde, and that they should confront him again during the next water break.

"Okay, Clyde. Spill it," Token said.

Stan grabbed Clyde by the shoulders, opting for a less subtle approach. "Dude! You're not…" He
dropped his voice to a whisper. "...on steroids, are you?"

"What?!" Clyde yelled. He pushed Stan away from him. "You guys are being ridiculous!"

"Maybe so," said Token, "but you were too vague yesterday when we asked you what your training
secret was. Can you blame us for wondering if you started taking performance enhancing drugs? I
mean, it's senior year and college scouts are starting to make their rounds. I could see why
someone might feel pressured to do it."
"Well, I'm not! Christ!" Clyde pouted.

"So then...what's the secret?" Stan asked.

"I have a secret admirer."

Token and Stan stared blankly at Clyde. "That's it?" they said in unison.

"Hell yeah," Clyde replied. "I've been working extra hard for her cause she'll obviously be
watching me at the game on Friday. Who knows, if I get the winning touchdown again, maybe
she'll reveal herself and we'll hook-up afterward."

"So your secret to better performance is the possibility of getting laid?" asked Token.

"It is a pretty powerful force," Stan laughed. "But you and I both have girlfriends, so we get it on
the regular. But Donovan here is a free agent, so…yeah, I buy it. Go get it, my dude!"

Stan raised his hand in the air to give Clyde a high-five.

"Sometimes I question why we're friends," Token said, shaking his head.

"Hey Stan!"

They turned to see Kyle running up to them. Clyde and Token moved aside to get refills on their
water.

"Hey Kyle. What's up? I haven't really seen you since school started," asked Stan.

"Yeah, sorry about that. I've just been so busy with band and all of my AP classes. Anyway, I've
been meaning to tell you this since I saw the game last Friday, but dude, you look amazing! That
extra time you spent working out this summer really paid off!"

"Yeah, I did pretty good. I cut weight, too, which helped," Stan said, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Pretty good? Dude!" Kyle reached out his hand and touched Stan's chest. "This is more than
pretty good!"

Stan looked at Kyle, then down at the hand pressed against him. His cheeks grew warm with
embarrassment. He chuckled and playfully slapped Kyle on the back.

"Dude, that's totally gay! But thanks!"

"Oh, I also came over to see if you wanted to go see the new Marvel movie with me on Saturday?"
asked Kyle. "We haven't hung out in a while, so I figured we should remedy that."

"Yeah! That sounds great! I miss you, dude."

"I miss you, too. Well, I should probably get back now. Break's about over," said Kyle.

His phone buzzed. He pulled it out of his pocket and swiped it open. When he burst out laughing,
Stan asked him who it was from.

"Oh, it's just Wendy. An inside joke of ours. Anyway, gotta run! It's great to see you, Stan!"

Kyle ran back to the band field, leaving Stan staring at his back. Coach McKay blew the whistle to
resume practice, telling Stan it was time to put his feelings aside and focus on football.
 The sound of your voice is oh so sweet

I can't wait for the day when we can meet

I want to be held in your arms so strong

I pray that this wish won't take too long

Karen let out a small squeak when Craig suddenly sat down next to her in the stands.

"Don't scare me like that, senpai! I didn't even hear you coming!" she exclaimed, pressing a hand to
her heart.

Craig gave her a blank stare. "Please don't call me senpai."

Karen pouted. "I'll get you to like it eventually."

"Anyway, sorry for startling you. I didn't intentionally try to sneak up on you. I just walk quietly, I
guess. I've been compared to a cat before."

Karen laughed and her face brightened up again. "You're totally a cat!"

"So what are you doing up here?" Craig asked. "Are you that into the football team that you feel
the need to watch every practice?"

"I stay after school every day, not just when the art club meets. I sit out here in the fresh air and
practice drawing, then Kenny takes me home after marching band is done rehearsing. I'd take the
bus home earlier, but I've been told that taking the bus is social suicide, and I really don't want to be
labeled as uncool before my high school debut has barely even begun!"

"'High school debut'…'senpai'…dammit, Karen, you've been watching way too much fucking
anime," Craig said, shaking his head.

"I watch it with Kenny on the weekends. He said you recommended a bunch of the shows we've
watched."

Craig cleared his throat and tried to change the subject. "You smell good today."

Karen rolled her eyes, but let the awkward transition go.

"Thanks. It's my new favorite body spray. It's called Morning Rose Dew. It's kind of expensive, but
a little goes a long way."

"It really is nice. You're becoming quite the young woman. You know, when you're not acting like
a child in a ball pit."

Karen's eyes widened. "When I'm an adult, I'm going to have a room in my house that's just a giant
ball pit."

Craig opened his mouth for a sarcastic remark, but quickly closed it. "Yeah, that sounds pretty
fucking awesome."

The two continued to talk about art, and Craig gave Karen some tips for improvement. Before they
knew it, marching band practice was over and Kenny was calling out to Karen from the bottom of
the bleachers.

"Oh! I didn't realize how late it was!" Karen exclaimed. "Thanks for spending time with me, sen-,
uh, sorry Craig."

"Sure thing," said Craig, cracking a rare smile. He might not be a fan of her calling him senpai, but
Karen was a good kid nonetheless.

Craig waved down at Kenny. Kenny waved back before Karen leapt into his arms for a hug. Craig
watched as several members of the band passed in front of the stands. When he noticed Tweek
slow down and stop to chat with Kenny, he felt a warm pleasant feeling spread through his
stomach. It was fucking embarrassing. He stared at him, unable to tear his eyes away.

Unfortunately, his eyes lingered a few seconds too long. Tweek eventually looked up into the
stands and directly at Craig. Craig snapped his gaze away, deciding that the football players still on
the field were far more interesting than a kinda sorta cute punk drummer.

I had a dirty dream about you last night.

Clyde flipped the paper over to the back side, then again to the front.

"That's it? No poem?" he questioned. "That's kinda weird."

"It's certainly straight to the point," said Bebe. "I kinda miss the cutesy feeling of those little
poems. That being said, it looks like you won't have to try to score. She's already there. She's just
waiting for you to find her, or trying to get up the courage to confront you directly. But once she
does, you're in."

"You think? I don't know…I'm starting to feel like this is a prank. Like someone is trying to be a
dick and throw me off my game. Build me up and then tear me down. Do you think a player from
Pueblo would sneak into the school to slip these into my locker?"

"Really, Clyde? How would they know which one was your locker? That sounds like it would be a
lot of work to research just for a prank."

"I guess," he sighed.

Bebe had a point, but something about the notes just didn't feel right anymore. Sure, they were
flattering at first, but this was the fourth one in four days, and this one was much more serious in
tone. Clyde just couldn't shake the feeling that someone was fucking with him.

That feeling ended up affecting him at practice. All of the improvement he made during the week
seemed to disappear. No. It was more than that. Clyde seemed to have gotten worse. He was
sloppy with his catches. He seemed sluggish when he ran. It was obvious to everyone on the team
that he was distracted by something.

During a water break, Stan and Token confronted him yet again.

"Dude! What the fuck is up with you this week? You've been kicking ass until now, but today…
you're killing us out there!"

Stan put his hands on his hips as he paced back and forth.

"It's…" Clyde let out a groan. He knew it was stupid. He knew he shouldn't be so in his head about
these damn notes. "Fuck, you're going to think I'm an idiot."

"We already think you're an idiot. I don't think this will change much," Token said, rubbing his
temples.

"I got another note from the admirer, and now I think it's someone trying to prank me," Clyde
mumbled. He felt embarrassed just saying the words aloud.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Stan pushed on Clyde's shoulder like he thought it might shake him
out of this funk. "You're playing like shit because of that?"

Clyde buried his head in his hands and yelled. "It's okay. It's gonna be okay. I got this."

"You'd better. Pueblo demolished their opponent last week, so we can't let down our guard."

Cartman came over and handed them each a large plastic cup of ice water.

"Here," he said.

The three of them chugged down their cups, and then Stan asked for a second. Cartman eyed him
suspiciously, but decided he'd rather have his players well hydrated. Stan thanked Cartman for the
cup before proceeding to dump the entire thing over Clyde's head.

"Dude! What the fuck!" Clyde exclaimed.

Stan stepped up close to him and patted his full cheeks with his hands. "That's to make sure you're
awake. Now come on."

Stan picked his and Clyde's helmets off the ground and thrust Clyde's into his chest. Clyde shoved
it back onto his head, gritting his teeth while he secured the strap. The team ran back onto the field
and resumed the starting position.

Clyde haphazardly looked over at the marching band as he ran toward his spot. The drumline was
standing in the front, dancing around like he had seen at the previous game. His eyes focused on
Kenny. Clyde would never admit to it out loud, but Kenny had a natural ability to perform that
made him easily stand out from the other players. He crouched down into his starting position. He
shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts and focus on practice. Geez, first the damn prank note,
now his rival. What else could cloud his mind?

Wait a second.

Kenny. Kenny was probably the one who had been leaving the notes in his locker. It made total
sense! They had that argument after lunch on Monday. Kenny must have been so pissed off by the
way Clyde totally destroyed him that he tried to throw him off of his game with fake flirty notes!
What other explanation could there be?

Stan called out the play, but Clyde wasn't paying attention. His teammates began to move around
him, but he stood still, his mind bristling with thoughts of Kenny. He didn't hear his name being
called repeatedly. He did, however, feel the air forced out of his lungs as his body was tackled to
the ground.

Coach McKay blew the whistle to halt the play. He ran up to Clyde while the teammate who
tackled him helped him back up.

"Donovan! What the hell happened?" he asked.

He lifted his shades up on top of his head so that he could look Clyde in the eyes. Clyde knew that
he only did this when he was truly upset.

"I don't know what happened, Coach. I just sorta...froze. I had a lot on my mind," said Clyde. He
didn't have any better excuse. What would people think if he had said he had been distracted
because he was thinking about another guy?

Coach McKay pulled his shades off of his head and wiped his brow with the back of his hand. "I
gotta put you on the bench for the rest of practice, Donovan. I hate to do it, but if your head isn't
going to be on the field, it's just not safe. I can't have one of the other guys giving you a damn
concussion because you aren't paying attention. Just...make sure you get focused by tomorrow
night. We're all counting on you."

"I understand, Coach," Clyde said. He smiled sadly and removed his helmet as he walked off of the
field.

Clyde finished the rest of practice on the bench, brooding, and staring over at the marching band.
The longer he thought about Kenny's potential connection to the notes, the more upset he got, and
the more he believed it. He clenched the muscles in his jaw and rubbed the back of his neck. He
couldn't let this continue. He had to do something about it now.

The second that Coach McKay called for the end of practice, Clyde jumped up and did a hard walk
across the field. The marching band had finished about five minutes prior, and most of the students
were heading toward their cars, having already put their instruments away. The drumline, however,
was over near the equipment shed and were in the middle of removing the harnesses from their
drums.

"HEY!" Clyde yelled when he was within earshot of Kenny. "McCORMICK!"

Kenny looked up from his spot kneeling on the ground. Clyde looked ticked off. Kenny glanced
over at Tweek, who gave him a confused look. Kenny leaned back on his heels and crossed his
arms, watching Clyde as he closed in on him.

"What the fuck is your deal, McCormick?!" Clyde yelled.

Kenny cocked his head to the side. He chuckled to himself and stood up to be closer to Clyde's eye
level.

"My deal? I literally have no idea what you're talking about." Kenny put his hands on his hips and
pushed out his chest a bit, in the hopes that it struck a more intimidating pose.

"You fucking know exactly what I'm talking about! You're playing mind tricks on me! Trying to
throw me off my game before tomorrow so that I fuck up!"

Kenny furrowed his brow. "What? Why would I want to do that?"

"Cause you're still upset from Monday!"

"Monday? Huh? You mean because I yelled at you? Jesus Christ, Donovan! I'm not still upset
about that!" Kenny started to laugh. "I don't hold a grudge like you!"

Kenny's laughter made Clyde see red even more. He took a step forward and pushed Kenny in the
chest. Not hard enough to actually hurt him or make him fall down, but enough to provoke his ire.

Kenny lowered his head, looking up at Clyde with dark eyes. "Okay. So you wanna fight then,
Donovan? You really want to start this right now?"

Tweek stood up and stood next to Kenny. He cracked the knuckles of his right hand and flexed the
fingers open and close into a fist.

"Walk on home, boy," Tweek threatened, "before I punch you in the fucking mouth."

Clyde rolled both of his shoulders. He stretched his neck to either side. "Go right ahead. I can take
both of you." His face contorted into a snarl.

Before anyone could take the first swing, Cartman rushed over, flanked by Stan and Token. Stan
and Token both grabbed at Clyde's arms to hold him back. Cartman walked up directly to Tweek
and Kenny, tut-tutting and wagging his finger at them.

"Hey hey hey! There will be none of that! My stars are valuable property, and I can not have any of
them getting any broken teeth or black eyes! I need them to look their best in case there are any
sponsorship deals on the way!"

"There are no sponsorship deals, Cartman. You're being an idiot," Kenny said, rolling his eyes.

"You don't know that!" Cartman exclaimed. "Now keep your hands away from my player! I know
you want a piece of him, Kenny, of course everyone does in this school, but hands off!"

Cartman turned on his heel and followed after Stan and Token, who had begun to lead Clyde back
to the locker rooms. Kenny watched as he doted upon Clyde, who turned his head to stare back at
Kenny, snarl still intact.

"Well, that was a fucking thing," Tweek chuckled.

"It's never a dull day around here, huh?" Kenny shook his head.

He knelt back down on the ground to continue putting his snare away. After a moment, he looked
up at Tweek again.

"Really dude? Threat by Pantera lyric?"

Tweek grinned. "It's been stuck in my head all day, man. Sue me."

Meet me outside after school

I'll be at the bench out front by the flagpole

Clyde licked his lips. After yesterday's note and the subsequent mindfuck he experienced, he wasn't
quite sure how he should proceed. On one hand, if it was a hot chick who wanted to get in a
quickie before the game, he'd simultaneously let off some steam and get his first point. On the
other hand, if it was someone playing a prank, Kenny or otherwise, he'd know for certain and be
able to put the person in a headlock until the apologized for being a dick. Hmm. Now that he
thought about it, there weren't any downsides to meeting the author of these notes.

At lunch, Clyde decided to show the note to Craig. He wanted a second opinion, and Craig was
objectively smarter than him, so he figured he was the best option.

Craig looked at the lightly crumpled pink paper. "Well, it's cute stationary, that's for certain."

"Dammit Craig, stop being so gay! I didn't ask for your artistic opinion on the fucking paper itself.
Like, what do you think I should do? Should I be late to practice and actually meet up with this
person?"

Craig frowned at Clyde for the gay comment. He sighed and looked his friend square in the eyes.

"I say go for it. What's the worst that could happen? If it's someone you're not interested in, you
simply turn them down, and then they spend the rest of the year plotting their vengeance on you,
killing you one day before graduation."

"WHAT!?" Clyde cried.

"Damn dude, calm down. I'm kidding!" Craig patted him on the shoulder. "Seriously though. I
think it's better to just meet with the person. I mean, shit, after what Kenny told me about
yesterday...I think you need some resolution to this whole charade."

Clyde bristled at Kenny's name. "He told you about that?" He grunted in disapproval when Craig
nodded.

Clyde looked back down at the piece of paper in Craig's hand. "Does the handwriting look familiar
to you at all? I know it's a long shot, but maybe it's someone we know?"

Craig brought the paper close to his face, like by looking at it up close, he'd suddenly recognize
the handwriting.

"Nope. I can't tell." He wrinkled his nose and put the paper up against it, inhaling deeply. "It smells
pretty nice, though. The scent is familiar, but I can't place it. I probably smelled it walking through
the halls recently."

Clyde took the note back, folding it. He took a sniff before putting it back into his backpack. "It
does smell nice. Alright, I'm gonna do it!"

Later that afternoon, after the final bell had rung, Craig and Bebe saluted Clyde as he left his locker
to head outside. They gave each other a knowing look, expecting that they were going to hear all
about it after the game that night.

"You wanna walk with me to my locker?" asked Bebe.

"Yeah, sure. It's not like I have anywhere important to be. I'm probably just gonna sit in the stands
watching the band practice until the game," Craig replied.

"The band, huh? Since when have you been so interested in the marching band?" Bebe raised her
eyebrow and smirked.

Craig felt warmth in his cheeks. "Oh, you know I've always been a huge supporter of the arts,
Bebe." He pointed at himself. "Art nerd, right here."

"Uh-huh…it's not cause you're crushing on anyone in the band, is it?"

Craig tried his best to look confused. "Who would I have a crush on?" he asked weakly.

"Oh, nobody in particular, I guess." She decided to drop the subject when they reached her locker.

She spun the combination in and lifted up on the handle. When the door swung open, the flowery
scent of her locker wafted out into the hallway.

"Your locker smells really good." Craig narrowed his eyes. "Wait. That smells familiar. I think
 Clyde's secret admirer uses the same scent." He cocked his head to the side. "You didn't prank
Clyde with those notes, did you?"

"Hey! What kind of friend do you think I am!" Bebe pouted. "It's called Morning Rose Dew. It's
pretty popular right now."

Craig's eyes widened. "Say that name one more time."

"Morning Rose Dew. Why, what's the problem?"

"Uh, I gotta go," Craig said quickly as he started to run down the hallway.

Craig ran as fast as he could, pushing through the throngs of students blocking his path forward.
He may had elbowed some people here and there, but that was their own damn fault for not getting
out of his way. He quickly turned the corner to the hallway that led to the band room. He hoped
that Kenny was there because he was pretty sure he'd want to know about this.

When he arrived, he swung the door open and stood in the doorway, winded.

"Kenny!"

"Craig?" Kenny asked. He was seated on the second stool for the drum kit. Tweek sat on the other,
sticks in hand. "What's the matter? Why are you so out of breath?"

"It's Karen!"

Chapter End Notes

Tweek and Kenny refer to the song "Walk" by Pantera

Also I know it wasn't an actual mystery for who his admirer is. ^^() I've never been
good at creating mystery and suspense. That's why I tend to stick with writing smut...

Timeline: September 10-14

 Like Old Times
Chapter Notes

I'm really happy with this chapter and I'm so excited to share it with you! Slow burns
are slow, but there's a little glimmer between Clyde and Kenny in here. Thank you for
reading!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

"Kenny! It's Karen!"

Kenny narrowed his eyes and stood up from the stool. "What about her? Craig, what's going on?"

"She's Clyde's secret admirer! She's the one who's been sending him flirty little notes all week!"

Kenny rolled his eyes. "That's it? I may hate the guy with the heat of a thousand suns, but I'm not
about to tell my little sister who she can and can't have crushes on. I don't want to be that
controlling asshole brother."

"All week Clyde has been talking about hooking up with his admirer, and today's note said to meet
outside after school. Normally I would trust Clyde not to do anything too stupid, but with this
whole dumbass competition and the fact that she's your sister—fuck, I can't believe I'm going to
say this—I'm worried that he might take advantage of the situation."

"I can't stop her from liking who she likes, but I sure as hell can stop some dickbag from preying
on her interest. I'm going to break his fucking jaw if he lays a hand on her. Where the fuck is he?"

"In the front of the school. The bench near the flagpole, I think it said."

"Thanks, Craig." Kenny gently placed a hand on Craig's shoulder before sprinting off down the
hallway.

Craig watched him disappear down the hallway, returning to face forward once he was out of sight.
He noticed Tweek looking at him in the doorway, one eyebrow raised in question.

"Competition?" Tweek asked.

Craig slowly backed out of the doorway, his hands desperately grabbing at the strings of his hat.
He turned tail and ran away after Kenny, leaving Tweek with an unanswered question.

Clyde took a deep breath before he pushed through the school's main entrance. He tried to keep his
smile to a minimum, wanting to remain cool, calm, and collected. Inside, he was feeling a flutter of
butterflies in his stomach at the prospect of discovering the identity of his mystery girl.

As the bench came into view, he saw a girl with light brown hair pulled back into two tiny pigtails.
She appeared to be wearing a floral print sundress, probably because she was trying to look her best
to confess to her crush in person. It was only when Clyde got close enough to the bench for the girl
to notice him that he realized it was Karen McCormick. The butterflies flew away, leaving Clyde
with a heavy, oddly hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach.
She stood up and waved at Clyde as he approached. He could see the bright pink in her cheeks. It
was honestly quite endearing.

"Hey, what's up?" he said casually.

He wasn't quite sure how to proceed with this. He had been expecting a fellow senior, perhaps a
junior. Hell, maybe even a teacher who just really sucked at poetry. He definitely wasn't expecting
a freshman, though. Especially one who was the sister of his arch nemesis.

"Hiya, Clyde! Thank you for coming."

She sat back down and patted the spot next to her, inviting him to take a seat. He accepted her
invitation and tried to make himself as comfortable as possible, given how uncomfortable this
conversation was going to be.

"I wasn't sure how you were going to feel about my notes," she said.

Karen was looking down at her lap, unable to look at Clyde once he was actually sitting next to
her. Clyde thought it was adorable how innocent she seemed. It made him realize that that was
probably why the previous day's note had felt so bare. All it had said was I had a dirty dream about
you last night. Clyde had thought it was someone messing with him—Kenny, to be exact—but
really it was just a girl who was probably feeling embarrassed about having her first sexy dream.

"They made me really happy. It feels good to know someone has interest in you. So...thank you for
writing them."

Clyde took his time choosing his words. He had come outside expecting to put the moves on a
potential partner, but instead, he was about to turn someone down for the first time. He pursed his
lips together in a tight smile.

"I was watching you at practice all week. You were so cool. Even cooler than at last week's game."

Clyde looked over at Karen, who was looking back at him longingly. Affectionately. No one had
really looked at him like that since he and Bebe had dated. He honestly missed it. He felt an ache in
his chest, knowing he was going to have to break her heart today.

"You did, huh? Well, did you know that I was working so hard for you?"

Karen's eyes became saucers. She grabbed at the fabric around her knees, bunching it up in her
fists.

"Really?"

"Really! The notes made me so happy that I wanted to make sure that I was at my best for the
person who made me feel so good. I figured you'd be at the game tonight and I wanted to win for
you."

Karen smiled and then abruptly threw her arms around Clyde, hugging him tight.

"That makes me really happy!" She nuzzled her cheek against his arm. "Mm, your arms are
so strong, Clyde."

He gently patted her on the head. He didn't want to lead her on, but he also didn't want to kill her
confidence. He was honestly surprised at just how much confidence she had. He felt that not
enough people took the chance on expressing their feelings to others, and he didn't want to see that
stripped away from her, especially while she was still young.

She looked up at him with her warm doe eyes and took a deep breath.

"I like you, Clyde. I really, really like you...and I was wondering if you would go out with me?
Maybe after the game we could get some ice cream?"

"That sounds like a great first date, and I appreciate how much courage it takes to admit your
feelings to someone, Karen, but…"

He took a deep breath as he watched her face crumple, immediately knowing where he was going
with this.

"...but I can't give those feelings back to you. It's not that you aren't a lovely, sweet, and talented
young woman. You are. Craig had told me about how much promise you have as an artist. And
you look beautiful in your dress."

Karen pulled away from Clyde's arm and smoothed her dress with her hands. "Thank you," she
said, her voice much smaller than before. "Kenny bought it for me."

Clyde felt the tension in his jaw when Kenny was mentioned, but he set his grudge aside. "You
have a great brother."

"I know I do." Karen stared down at her feet. Her face was tense, like her emotional state was
halfway between anger and sadness. She slowly exhaled. "So…if I'm so great, then why don't you
like me?"

Clyde sighed and slouched down on the bench. That was always the big question when it came to
rejection, wasn't it? Why not me? Clyde felt conflicted, as there were a few reasons why he and
Karen McCormick would never work. He was silent for a moment before he decided on the one
that would close the door on her permanently. He didn't want to give her a sense that maybe
something could happen in the future. He didn't want to leave her on the hook like that. She
deserved better.

"To be honest?" he began. "Since you're Kenny's little sister—"

"That doesn't matter!" Karen interrupted. "It's not any of Kenny's business who I date!"

A small smile formed on Clyde's face.

"Hearing you say that makes me really happy, but no, that's not quite where I was going. What I
was saying was that since you're Kenny's little sister, and I've known him since third grade, I've
known you since you were five. Because of that, I don't think I could ever see you as someone I
could date. Does that make sense?"

Karen looked down at her feet. The pink strappy sandals she had bought from the thrift store were
a bit faded and worn, but still made her feel pretty. She tried to focus on the sandals, as right now
she was feeling every intrusive thought that was coming into her head.

"Yeah. I guess that makes sense," she said quietly. She slouched down on the bench. "Rejection
sucks ass."

Clyde snorted. "Tell me about it. I've been rejected more times than I can ever remember."

"Really? Even you?" she asked.

"Hell yeah. All the time. I mean, when you put yourself out there a lot, you're going to have a lot of
nos. But you're going to get a lot of people who say yes, too. That's why I don't want you to feel
defeated over this. I know the first bunch of times I got turned down by someone I really liked, I
felt like I should just give up and never confess my feelings. I was scared. But I kept trying, and
eventually it became easier to do, and even though the pain of being rejected is still there, it doesn't
sting quite as much."

Karen pulled her knees up to her chest and hugged them.

"I know it sounds like bullshit coming from me right now," Clyde continued, "but you're going to
find someone someday who will love you back with all their heart. It might not be soon. It might
take decades, who knows? But I promise that it'll feel really fucking awesome when it happens.
And theirs will be your favorite butt. And you'll forget all about mine and how objectively
amazing it is."

Karen's laughter sputtered out of her unintentionally. "It feels weird to laugh while I'm feeling so
sad." Her voice started to crack, and Clyde noticed that her eyes were glistening.

"Hey Karen?" he asked.

She nodded, unable to look at him.

"Do you want me to stay longer, or would you like me to go?"

"I...think you should go. I don't want to make you any later for practice, and it'll be too
embarrassing if you see me cry."

"Fair enough." He stood up and swung his gear bag over his shoulder. "Take it easy, Karen."

Clyde took off toward the back of the school. Karen buried her head in her knees and let the tears
flow.

Kenny stood up from behind the bushes that lined the school. He had heard everything.
Thankfully, Karen had been focused on Clyde, and Clyde had been focused on the cracks in the
asphalt, so neither of them had noticed when he awkwardly dove into the shrubbery.

He had come outside with the full intention of kicking Clyde's dudebro ass, but the moment he saw
Karen's face, his anger melted away. She looked happy. That was a feeling that wasn't found too
often in the McCormick house, so it was precious. Kenny never wanted to be the reason that Karen
lost her joy.

That being said, Kenny knew that if he had just stood outside the double doors while staring at
them across the way, they'd eventually notice and Clyde would have a field day with that. Still,
Kenny kinda wanted to know how Clyde was going to react to Karen's confession. She was his
sister and Clyde saw Kenny as a rival, so he could potentially use his sister as a target. So Kenny
did the first thing he could think of, which was hiding behind the bushes and sneaking up closer in
order to better hear their conversation.

He stepped over the neatly pruned bushes and brushed off the dirt and leaves from his clothing. He
casually walked up to the bench where Karen sat, crying, and took a seat next to her. For several
minutes, they sat in silence, neither saying a word, nor making a move. Eventually Karen lied
down on her side, resting her head in her brother's lap. Kenny stroked her hair while she continued
to cry.
"How much of that did you see?" she asked.

"Enough," he replied.

Silence fell between them once more.

"You know, I really liked him," Karen said after a moment.

"I know. And I'm gonna bet that you still do, given the circumstance. Unfortunately, it's not that
easy to get over someone that quickly. I don't care who you are, ten minutes ain't enough time."

"Yeah. Yeah, I still do. Does that make me stupid?" she asked.

"Nah," Kenny replied. "It just makes you a human with romantic attractions. I'd be more concerned
if you were able to shrug the whole thing off already. You know, without feeling anything."

"I probably shouldn't go to the game, huh?"

"Why do you say that?" he asked.

"Cause I don't want Clyde to possibly see me in the stands and have him thrown off his game. I
could tell that he was already weirded out by me and this whole thing. I don't need him to hate me
because I made him lose the game."

Kenny couldn't help but chuckle at his sister's reaction.

"First of all, Clyde isn't the only player on the team. If they lose, it's not solely his fault, and if he
screws up, they can take him out of the game. Sure he could be pissed about that, but it's part of the
game strategy, you know?"

Karen appeared to relax as he spoke.

"Second, I don't think this is going to faze Clyde too much. Not that your confession wasn't
important, but he's one of the captains of the team. If he couldn't put his personal problems aside
and focus on the game, then he wouldn't be in that position. I'm not a fan of the guy, but I can give
credit where it's due."

"Yeah, I guess that's true," said Karen.

"And third, I think that if he does see you in the stands…well, I think that would make him happy.
I hear he performed really well during practices this week cause of how happy your notes made
him. Seeing you tonight would show him that you still support him as a person, even if he turned
you down romantically. And that...that is something you do for someone you care about."

Karen sat up and rubbed her eyes with the back of her hands. She sniffled and sighed, wishing she
had a tissue in her backpack.

"You're right, Kenny," she said. "I'm gonna go. I wouldn't want Tricia and Senpai to have to sit
alone, anyway."

"Senpai?" Kenny asked with a quirked eyebrow.

"Yeah. Craig. I started calling him Senpai this week, but he hates it. I'm gonna get him to love it by
the end of the semester."

"Oh my god. He's never going to hear the end of that from me," Kenny laughed.
Karen smiled. "Thank you, Kenny. I feel a lot better now."

She leaned in for a hug. Kenny reciprocated, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her in tight.

"I feel bad, though. That you stayed here with me for this long. Aren't you really late for band
practice?"

Kenny shrugged. "Eh, it's fine. Mr. Bunting and I have a good relationship. I can get away with it
this one time."

The score was tied seven to seven at the beginning of halftime. Pueblo was fighting hard and both
teams were barely giving up any yardage.

The marching band took to the field with a hearty cheer in an attempt to get the crowd re-
energized. It was slow going, as the intensity of the game had emotionally drained the fans, but by
the time the drumline started up "Superstition", the crowd was back on their feet and ready for
more. As the winds held their final note and the drumline held onto a drumroll, Wendy turned
around to face the audience. Her arms stretched out to her side and her body slightly at an angle so
that she wasn't directly facing the stands, she proudly presented the band. Raucous applause
greeted them in return, and if Kenny wasn't losing his mind, he was pretty sure that he could hear
Karen's voice over it, screaming his name at the top of her lungs. He was glad that she was feeling
better, or at least that she had a pleasant distraction for a while.

The Park County Bulls ran back onto the field as soon as the band had exited. As a whole, the team
looked refreshed and ready to win the game.

Clyde looked out into the crowd as he crossed the field. He was able to spot Karen immediately. It
didn't hurt that she was sitting next to Craig. He tended to stick out like a sore thumb at these
events, arms crossed and not looking remotely interested. Clyde knew that even though sports
didn't interest Craig in the slightest, he was a very supportive friend and would never miss a game.
Karen sat to his left, waving her arms frantically in the air just like the previous week. It was
almost like everything that happened earlier was just a dream. He pointed up into the stands when
he swore he caught her eyes. You can do it, Clyde! she yelled over the din. He smiled, glad that she
decided to come to the game anyway. Her passion for the team really was contagious.

Clyde had felt drained at the end of the first half. He had been playing defense most of the night to
counteract Pueblo's strengths. His hard work earlier in the week had paid off, as the reason that
Pueblo had only scored one touchdown was large in part because of him. He felt somewhat better
after halftime, but the game was still taking a toll on his body.

Token beckoned the team over for a brief huddle. The Bulls were receiving at the start of the
second half, and Token wanted to reiterate what the coach had discussed in the locker room at
halftime. Since Clyde had focused on defense for the entire first half, they figured that the other
team wouldn't be expecting him to carry the ball. So on the first play, Stan was going to pass the
ball to Clyde, who would then try to make a break for the end zone.

The referee called for the teams to get in starting position. Clyde broke from the huddle with his
nerves twisted in a bunch. Normally he thrived on being the linchpin of the team, but right now he
had some concerns. This was the team's opportunity to push hard and score quickly. They had one
chance to do this before the other team caught on. If he screwed this up, it would be very difficult
to capture the win.

Clyde took a deep breath once he was in position. He glanced into the stands to see that Karen was
watching with excitement. He'd push through and get this touchdown. For her. She was still here,
supporting him, so he wanted to give her something to cheer about.

The referee blew the whistle. The ball was snapped to Stan. Clyde burst forward from his position,
managing to dodge Pueblo's front line. Stan pulled back his arm and threw it to Clyde, just like he
had hundreds of times before.

Clyde looked over his shoulder and caught the ball. He clutched it to his chest like a precious
stone. He looked back toward the end zone and caught a glimpse of Pueblo player number 55
charging toward him from his blind side.

He didn't have time to change direction or leap over the player. Number 55 dove forward and
tackled Clyde to the ground. Clyde was tackled on his left hip, and as he fell, his legs bent to the
side, causing his right knee to twist unnaturally.

Clyde clutched his knee, pulling it toward his chest and screaming in agony. The referee blew the
whistle and the Bulls' coaching team ran onto the field. The athletic trainer did a basic assessment
of the damage while Coach McKay talked to Clyde in a calm, soothing voice.

The audience was silent while Clyde lay on the ground. The players on both teams took a knee out
of respect. Kenny McCormick bit his lip, torn between the schadenfreude of it all and the fact that
Clyde was a strong player, and any injury would greatly affect the team, and the entire school.
Thankfully Kenny was able to stay quiet, although a small tickle of laughter had threatened to
come out while everyone else was silent.

Once they were sure that nothing was broken and that Clyde could put weight on his left leg, he
was carried off the field and into the locker room where the athletic trainer could do a more
thorough assessment. The crowd applauded as he left.

The Bulls were able to overcome the loss of their first string tight end and managed to score a field
goal with four minutes left. They kept a tight defense on Pueblo to run out the clock, winning the
game ten to seven. The crowd roared at the victory like they hadn't witnessed one of the top players
be carried off of the field earlier. Kenny stared at the lit windows of the locker room. He couldn't
stand Clyde, but even he was feeling some sympathy for him right now. The fans were supposed to
adore him, and it looked like no one had stayed to see how he was doing.

Kenny sighed. He owed it to Clyde to check on him, he felt, as a way to repay him for how he
handled the situation with Karen earlier. He looked around to make sure no one was around to see
him doing something nice for Clyde. When he decided the coast was clear, he went inside.

Kenny was shocked to find the locker room completely empty. At this point in the night, he
assumed that there would at least be a few stragglers still in the shower. He wondered if they had
booked it out of their because they didn't want to see Clyde hurt, or if it was because it was already
beer o'clock. He would have at least guessed that Stan and Token would have stuck around.

Kenny's footsteps echoed throughout the locker room. He came around a row of lockers and saw
Clyde sitting alone on a bench. He was looking straight at Kenny. He must have heard him
coming. Kenny studied his face. His eyes were wet and puffy, and his cheeks were red.

Clyde narrowed his eyes. "What do you want, McCormick? Did you come in here to try to make
this worse than it already is? You wanted to make me feel shittier than I already do?"

Kenny leaned his shoulder against one of the lockers, crossing his arms. "No. I was actually
wondering if you were alright."

Clyde looked at him incredulously. "Does it fucking look like I'm alright?! And why
do you fucking care?" His chest began to heave as his breaths came faster.

"I have my reasons." There was an uncomfortable silence hanging between them for a moment.
The sound of water dripping from the shower echoed in the silence. "It looks like you've been
crying."

Clyde bared his teeth, his face gnarled into a grimace. "I wasn't fucking crying!" he
yelled. "Because men don't fucking cry!"

He grabbed his helmet that was still sitting next to him on the bench and threw it across the room.
It crashed into the row of lockers Kenny was leaning against. The loud bang made Kenny flinch.
Clyde's face scrunched up as tears began to fall down his cheeks. His lungs rapidly filled with air
as he began to sob.

Kenny stood still. He didn't say a word. Normally he would verbally prod Clyde for his inability to
contain his emotions, but now was not the time for that. He wished that there was something that
he could say. Something that would sound genuine and help Clyde know that it really was okay
that he was crying. He decided that there were no inspirational words that could placate him right
now. So he simply let Clyde cry.

Once Clyde seemed to calm down, Kenny took a step forward.

"Can I sit down?" he asked, gesturing toward the bench.

Clyde looked at him suspiciously, but ultimately nodded. Kenny moved closer to the bench, sitting
down, but leaving plenty of room between the two of them.

"Do you, uh...do you wanna talk about it? About your injury?"

Clyde tilted his head up and shot daggers at Kenny through his eyelashes. Kenny raised his hands
up and quietly laughed.

"Okay, okay. You don't need to."

Clyde's sniffles punctuated the silence. Kenny began to feel restless just sitting there without
getting to the reason why he came to check on Clyde in the first place.

"So, uh...thank you for not taking advantage of my sister's crush on you."

Clyde looked up and stared at Kenny. Kenny could feel his eyes on him, but he couldn't get
himself to look back at Clyde.

"I heard the whole thing. Craig came to let me know once he figured out Karen was the one who
was sending you love notes or something. It doesn't surprise me, actually. She's talked about you a
lot the last two weeks. It's been kinda annoying, to be honest."

Kenny chuckled to himself. Clyde laughed through his nose.

"I initially went outside because I was intending to kick your ass. I thought that you were going to
try to use her to get a point and to fuck with me."

"Jesus Christ, McCormick, what kind of person do you think I am?!" Clyde said. It was now
Kenny's turn to give the incredulous look. "Okay, okay. That does sound like something I'd do."

"Look," Kenny continued, "I don't understand Karen's taste in men, but I appreciate that you took
the time to talk her through things."

"Of course," said Clyde. "Karen seems like a great kid, and I'm not an asshole."

Kenny rolled his eyes.

"Hey! I'm not that much of an asshole. It sucks to be rejected. I've been rejected dozens of times,
and I never want to treat others the way I was treated."

"Damn, how bad were these rejections?" Kenny asked.

Clyde sighed. "Well, I suppose I should've known that's what I'd get for propositioning a group of
college girls when my dad and I were in Florida on vacation two years ago. A fifteen year old boy
trying to invite twenty year old girls to a party in his pants is not recommended."

Kenny burst out laughing. He grabbed the edge of the bench to prevent himself from falling over as
he leaned back. Clyde smirked, and eventually joined in the laughter.

Clyde sighed and shifted on the bench. He hissed and grimaced when he tried to bend his knee.

"Do they know what's wrong with it?" Kenny asked, nodding to Clyde's leg. He scooted closer to
Clyde so they were side by side.

"The athletic trainer thinks it might be an ACL tear. Those are really common, especially with
football. If it is and it's bad enough, I'll need surgery and lots of physical therapy...and I won't be
able to play for the rest of the season."

His face scrunched up again as tears began to well in his eyes.

"If I'm out for the rest of the season, then I'm royally fucked. If I'm not playing, then no recruiters
are going to see me and there goes my chance to be play college ball. I mean," Clyde sniffled, "I
could technically go to open try-outs, but that can be a lot harder, and without an invitation to play
football that comes with a scholarship...dude, my grades aren't good enough alone to make it into
college. I'd end up staying in South Park forever. I'd probably eventually end up taking over Toe
Jams from my dad. I love him, but that's not the life I want. Selling fucking shoes."

Kenny nodded silently. He knew the feeling. The worry about being stuck forever in the town he
was born in. A town that, despite many improvements over his lifetime, still didn't have many
opportunities for people to thrive doing what they loved.

"They told me I need to get an x-ray to get a full assessment of the damage to my knee, and that I
should see a sports orthopedist. There's one in Denver that's open on Saturdays, so my dad and I are
going up there in the morning."

"That really sucks," said Kenny.

Silence fell between them once again. Kenny wasn't sure what to say to make things better. Clyde
looked deep in thought, several emotions swirling around in his head.

"This...feels weird," said Clyde. "You and I, sitting next to each other. Alone. Not trying to kill
each other," he chuckled.
"Yeah, I guess so," Kenny replied. "But hell, we used to talk like this all the time back in middle
school."

Clyde briefly looked Kenny in the eyes. His brown eyes were full of sadness, and perhaps a little
regret. Kenny thought that Clyde wanted to say something, but ultimately he looked away, saying
nothing.

"Hello? Clyde?" A new voice rung out through the locker room. It was a girl's voice, and Kenny
recognized it instantly.

Karen found the two of them, a fresh box of hot pizza in her hands.

"Karen! Where the hell did you get that pizza?" Kenny smirked.

"I called Shakey's and ordered delivery to the football field. I thought they'd laugh at me, but they
actually did it!" Her eyes flitted over to Clyde, then back to Kenny. "I was wondering if Clyde
would be willing to do a friend date with some pizza. You know, since the romantic date with ice
cream isn't an option. I was thinking a lot during the game, and—if it's okay with you, Clyde—I'd
like to get to know you better. A-as a friend only! Promise!"

Clyde smiled. "I've never been one to turn down free pizza."

"Well, this is obviously my cue to get the fuck outta here," Kenny said, standing up and stretching.
"I've got work tomorrow. Enjoy the pizza. I'll see you back at home, Karen." He motioned to
Clyde. "Will your dad be okay giving her a ride home?"

"Yeah, my dad's good for that. I'll make sure she gets back safely."

"You'd better," said Kenny. "'Cause if you don't, I'm gonna beat your ass."

Kenny began to leave the locker room, but lingered in the doorway for a moment. He could hear
Karen already asking Clyde a million questions. He smiled, glad that his sister was making another
friend.

He sighed wistfully once he got outside. For a moment back there, it had almost felt like old times.
Kenny shoved his hands in his pockets as he walked across the field to the parking lot and back to
the present.
Chapter End Notes

A huge thank you to @onejohnsoup on Tumblr for fulfilling my art request. I am so

happy to have a visual for one of my favorite moments in this story.

Timeline: September 14
 Two Angry Boys
Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Weekends were always tough for Kenny. While many of his peers spent their weekends relaxing
and socializing, his were all business. He always allowed himself to sleep in on the weekends,
though. He'd wake up at six, as he did every day, then roll over and get another three to four hours
of much needed rest. His weekends were filled with making sure his homework was dealt with,
practicing his drum skills, and most importantly, making money. He allowed himself to sleep in
because he was usually up until midnight or later for his job, depending on how busy things were
on a night to night basis.

Kenny rolled out of bed, scratching at his scalp and stretching out his tired limbs. He headed
toward the bathroom, hearing the sounds of Karen singing while she cooked up some eggs and
ham. On Saturdays, the two of them spoiled themselves with a real breakfast. Sure, they were
discounted eggs that had cracks in them and half-off ham that had yesterday's date as its sell-by
deadline, but it was perfectly good food and would've been thrown out anyway, adding to the
country's huge food waste problem. Their parents never knew about their fancy breakfasts. That
was because they were always either still passed out from the night before, or they were out
working if they happened to have an opening shift at whatever job they were currently employed.
Kenny was glad for that, however, because he didn't want to hear his father rant about the cost of
"luxury foods" again.

The water bill had finally been paid last week and the shower was thankfully putting out water with
some decent pressure, but as Kenny stepped inside the shower, the loud string of curses that fell
from his mouth let Karen know that something was wrong with the water heater again. He exited
the bathroom, clean, but feeling like his testicles may never reemerge from inside his body.

"Hey Kenny!" Karen happily greeted as he entered the kitchen. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yeah, pretty well." He sat at the table and cut into his over easy eggs, watching the yolks ooze out
onto the slice of ham. "How was your friendly pizza date?"

"It was great! Clyde's a really sweet guy. I'm still sad that he doesn't feel the same way I do, but I'm
glad that he's still willing to be my friend."

"You're not trying to become his friend in the hopes that he'll eventually think about dating you…
right?" Kenny eyed Karen with a hint of suspicion. "Just cause that rarely works, so I don't want
you getting your hopes up."

"No, no, don't be silly, Ken," she replied through a mouthful of ham. "I wouldn't let myself be kept
on the hook like that. I genuinely just want to be his friend. He's fun! I really don't understand why
you two aren't friends anymore."

Kenny fell silent. The sound of Karen's fork scraping her plate as she ate filled the room.

"That's a good question," he finally said. "We're just different people now, you know? We fit in
with different groups, and we just don't really have anything in common any more."

Karen stared at Kenny while his eyes were focused down on his food. She wasn't buying any of
what he was saying. She might have just begun to get to know Clyde well, but she could already
tell that he and Kenny were a lot alike in many ways. Still, she decided to keep that thought to
herself.

Kenny sighed. "But you know, after last night…well, maybe I should try to get to know him again.
For a minute there, while we were talking…it had kinda felt like we were twelve again, you know?
It made me feel really good."

Karen finished her meal and stood up to place her dish in the sink.

"Speaking of that, why were you in the locker room with him if you hate him so much?"

"He injured his fucking knee! I felt bad and wanted to check on him cause he's important to the
success of the football team, and I wanna play at Mile High Stadium one more time before I
graduate. Can't one guy check on another guy's well-being? Damn!"

Kenny quickly got up from his chair and placed his own dish in the sink. He gave Karen a kiss on
the forehead and hurried away toward his room to start on his homework. She shook her head and
rolled her eyes at him as he walked away. He could say what he wanted, but she had a nagging
feeling that he didn't hate Clyde as much as he insisted.

Kenny put his truck into park outside the City Wok. He hopped out and closed the driver's door
hard, as it was the only way to ensure that the rusted door would actually stay shut. He had been
working for the restaurant off and on ever since he was a kid. It was mostly under the table at that
point, as child labor was obviously illegal, even though Mr. Lu Kim never really seemed to care.
Still, he had been willing to pay Kenny for various odd jobs back then, like mopping the floors,
and it had helped him be able to get nice things for Karen from time to time. Nowadays, he had a
work permit and could officially work for the restaurant. He had moved up in the world, from
busboy to delivery driver, as City Wok expanded into the take-out market. It was still illegal, as
Kenny was a minor and therefore couldn't be a driver, but that had never stopped him or the City
Wok establishment before, so why would it now?

He clocked in and leaned against the counter while he waited for the first orders of the day. Once
back in his truck with two bags of food, he set up the GPS on his phone, turned over the engine,
and headed out on his route.

Kenny enjoyed working as a driver. He enjoyed riding around town, even though his truck had
awful mileage, and he was able to meet new people in a friendlier setting than behind the counter.
He found that when people were at home or work and he stopped by with the food, they
were much nicer than when they came into the restaurant themselves. He assumed that it was
because they were in their element, and therefore more comfortable, but maybe it was more
because people don't want to look like petty assholes in front of their family or co-workers.

Kenny also enjoyed making the deliveries because of his handful of regulars. He loved his
regulars. They always treated him wonderfully, knew him by name, and typically gave him sizable
tips. His favorite regulars were the middle aged housewives who shamelessly flirted with him since
they thought he was eighteen. He never corrected them. He figured that he was close enough to
legal age, and they never made any attempts to push things past playful banter about how
handsome he was.
He looped back around to City Wok to pick up more deliveries. He continued this routine for
several hours, until the sun finally set and he returned to the restaurant to clock out for his meal
break. Mr. Lu Kim usually gave him a bowl of whatever he wanted for free, which was certainly
helpful because Kenny wouldn't have eaten anything for dinner otherwise. He took his food—City
sweet and sour pork? Chicken? He couldn't tell—and sat at a table in the corner.

Kenny heard the bell over the door ring as it opened, but didn't bother to look up. He heard a lot of
giggling and the sound of crutches. Jimmy must be out on a date was his first thought. That was
quickly debunked when he heard the voice of the customer ordering.

"Yeah hi, could we have two bowls of the City beef, one of the chicken, and one of the shrimp?
Don't worry, ladies. I'll pay."

Kenny nearly choked on the bite he was chewing.

"Nooo, sweetie! Don't you worry about paying! You just focus on nursing that knee so that you can
get back to playing. Let us treat you!"

Kenny's eyes slowly panned up to see Clyde and three juniors from school flanking him. Once they
were finished paying and received their food, they all sat down around a table on the other side of
the restaurant. It was far enough away for Clyde to not notice Kenny staring at him, but close
enough so that Kenny could overhear their conversation. Of course, Clyde and friends were so loud
that he probably could have heard them outside.

Kenny watched Clyde with an eagle eye for his entire lunch break. Clyde must've been on some
good shit, if he was hurting at all, because he didn't look like he was in any pain. The few times he
winced and grabbed his knee, it was clearly to get sympathy from his female companions who
immediately placed their hands on his and cooed words of encouragement.

"You know, ladies," Clyde said, "my house is empty for the evening since my dad will be at work.
If you'd like to join me for some...dessert?"

Kenny rolled his eyes at the god awful pick-up line. Kenny was unsure how Clyde ever got laid
with that sort of talk. When the girls looked like they were considering it, but still hesitant, Clyde
continued.

"I hear, uh, that endorphins help reduce the perception of pain, so…that would really help me right
now."

Clyde bit his lower lip and looked at them with his big brown puppy eyes. The girls didn't stand a
chance. They back and forth at each other like they were trying to read one another's thoughts.
They nodded at each other and excused themselves to the bathroom, most likely to further discuss
the offer on the table.

Kenny stood up and did a hard walk towards Clyde's table. He pulled up a chair and straddled it,
resting his hands on the back of the chair and leaning forward. He didn't say a word. He let his
eyes speak for him.

Clyde inhaled some of his soda when he saw Kenny sit down. He put down the paper cup and
turned his head to cough, gasping for air when he could.

"You're looking well," Kenny muttered once Clyde had regained his breath.

"H-hey, McCormick."
"Crutches, huh? Guess your injury was really serious then."

Kenny spoke in a deadpan voice and his face gave away nothing. Clyde kept averting his eyes from
Kenny's stare. He felt his ears getting hot. He had to get rid of Kenny as fast as possible, or he'd
risk the girls returning from the bathroom.

"Yeah, well...I'm lucky it wasn't as serious as they'd initially thought. The orthopedist said I don't
need surgery, just need to give it some rest and see a physical therapist a few times a week until it's
healed. He even said I could be cleared to play again in a couple week."

"Wow. Lucky you," Kenny replied, still with the flat tone of voice.

"Yup."

Clyde took another sip of his soda and looked toward the hallway that led toward the bathrooms.
This was one of the more uncomfortable situations he had ever found himself in.

"You're faking it," said Kenny.

"Excuse me?" asked Clyde.

"Awfully convenient that you just so happened to injure yourself in the mildest way possible. You
really think that those girls are going to let you into their panties out of pity because of some
pretend injury? Dude, if this is how you plan to get points, then I've already won and we might as
well end this shit show right now."

Clyde slowly swallowed the sweet liquid in his mouth and placed the cup down on the table. He
finally held Kenny's gaze without blinking. He was too riled up now to be civil about this, so he
figured he'd might as well try fighting back.

"I don't know where you're getting this delusion that I'm faking this, but you know what? Yeah. I'm
gonna use it to my advantage." He leaned forward and spoke quietly so only Kenny could here.
"And cause I can't use my knee, they're gonna have to do all the work."

A small smile crept up on Clyde's mouth. Kenny cracked his neck and tightened his grip on the
chair. Clyde somehow always knew how to shorten his fuse.

The sounds of giggling suddenly reemerged from the bathroom. Kenny looked to the hallway, then
back at Clyde. He swung his leg over the seat of the chair as he stood up. He roughly pushed the
chair back toward the table and went to clock back into work. He grabbed the new bags of take-out
and left the restaurant, lips tightly pursed, nostrils flared, and eyes pointed straight ahead.

They say that you shouldn't drive angry. It's good advice, but Kenny never listened to it. Driving
was how he often calmed himself down when he was angry. After some bullshit argument with his
father, go for a drive. After coming home and finding out that his mother used the money he
loaned her for drugs rather than groceries for the week, go for a drive. Kenny found it
soothing. Usually.

Today was a different story. Today he wasn't just angry at Clyde. No, he was also angry at himself
for even thinking for a moment that Clyde maybe hadn't changed as much as he'd thought. That
maybe Clyde was someone he could become friends with again. Nope. Clyde was still a selfish
idiot jock who thought that the world should just give him things because he scores some fucking
touchdowns. Whoop-dee-fucking-doo.

When he hit the brakes at a stop sign, he glanced at his truck's tape deck. He took a moment to
glance through the handful of cassette tapes he had—he bought a dozen for a dollar at the thrift
store a few weeks after he got the truck—and slipped in the one that best fit his current mood.
Kenny stepped on the gas, revving the engine, as the frenzied guitar that opens Slayer's "Angel of
Death" filled the cab. Kenny immediately felt himself relax some, and then he sped off down the
road to the next customer.

What exactly was he going to do tomorrow? He had to go to that dumbass Sunday meeting that he
agreed to. Craig had even texted him that morning to remind him, writing that I won't hear the end
of it from Clyde if you don't show up. He would show up, all right. He was just prepared to have
Tweek kick his ass afterward because Kenny had a feeling that he was probably going to make a
scene in Tweak Bros.

Craig had lost count of how many times he'd walked past the door. He knew they were all
supposed to meet here at 11AM, but he'd ended up showing up ten minutes early. That
wasn't absurdly early, but he also knew his friends, and punctuality was not one of their talents.
Really, it wouldn't have been a problem to show up early, but Craig couldn't get himself to go
inside the coffee shop. Because he was in there.

Tweek wiped down the countertops around him and then wiped his forehead with the back of his
hand. Letting out a sigh of relief, he replaced the dirty towel with a fresh one and turned to look at
the main room. He had made it through yet another Sunday morning rush. The churchgoers always
flooded through the doors after mass, which was great for business, but put a lot of strain on his
anxiety that he had spent years trying to control. But he made it. He fucking made it.

Tweek noticed movement out of the corner of his eye and looked outside. Some person in all blue
was hunched over and pacing back and forth in front of the store. Tweek shrugged to himself. He
couldn't judge someone for being weird. He'd always been labeled one of the weird kids in
elementary school, so in an odd way, he felt a sort of kinship toward the person. He moved around
the counter and began to wipe the empty tables.

Craig stopped and stared at Tweek. He had moved from the spot he was in before. Oh shit! He
probably saw him loitering around outside! Ah fuck, Craig thought as he almost went in, but then
walked past the door once more. He couldn't go in there now cause it was obvious that he was
nervous. He didn't really know why he should be nervous in the first place. Tweek's just a dude.
Just a regular dude. Just because he put a heart in Craig's latte, and just because he called him cutie,
and just because his piercings were kinda sorta really hot…

Craig shook his head. This was fucking dumb. He grabbed his hat on both sides and pulled it down
over his eyes, yelling out in frustration and stomping his feet on the sidewalk.

He heard the bell ring, signifying that the door to Tweak Bros. had been opened. Craig
immediately froze.

"Hey there, dude," Tweek began. "I don't know what your deal is exactly, and it's none of my
fucking business, but…do you wanna come in and have a coffee or something? It's on me. I just...I
know how hard things can be sometimes, and I thought maybe it'd help."

Craig slowly looked over his shoulder, adjusting his hat as he did.
"Oh! Hey cutie! I didn't recognize you," Tweek laughed.

Craig felt mortified. He opened his mouth, hoping words would come out. Thankfully, he never
had to find out if they would have, because Bebe pulled up to the curb in her car like a golden
haired angel in a sleek chariot. Clyde was in the passenger seat, and fumbled with his crutches as
he made his way out of the car. Kenny arrived a minute later. They had heard his truck's muffler
before he had turned the corner.

"What is this? The fucking Breakfast Club?" Tweek jabbed as Kenny jumped down from the cab
of his truck.

"Ha ha, Tweek. The Breakfast Club was on Saturdays and they were in detention together. This is
more like," Kenny glanced at the others, "Assholes at Tweak Bros. Getting Coffee."

"Coming to Netflix next month," Tweek added with a laugh. He held the door open while the four
if them walked inside. "You want the same shit as last week?"

"You actually remember the orders?" asked Bebe.

Tweek shrugged. "It's a talent of sorts."

They all agreed to have the same drinks and Tweek disappeared to start working on them. As they
sat down around their designated table, Kenny stared daggers at Clyde. He clenched his teeth and
breathed slowly through his nose, doing his best to not go off on him in the quiet cafe.

"So," said Bebe, "how do we want to go about this? I know what the current score is, but since this
is ultimately a grudge between you two dorks, I figure it would be best for you to talk to each other
directly about the week, and Craig and I can confirm what we know."

Clyde looked at Kenny for the first time since he had arrived. The color drained from his face.
Kenny looked like he wanted to eat his face off. And for what? For trying to use this awful injury
—one that could have potentially been the end to any college dreams he had—to his benefit? It's
not like he was going to be able to socialize a lot after school when he was at physical therapy. He
had to seize opportunities for points where he could. Clyde thought that Kenny would be the sort of
person who would understand and appreciate that.

"Well, uh…" Clyde stammered under Kenny's gaze. "I thought I'd be able to score one with Lisa at
the party last weekend. We made out for a while, but when I tried to push things further, she
stopped me and said No thanks. Been there, done that. Dammit, we dated for like two days in the
fourth grade! She has barely been there and she definitely didn't do that."

Clyde's pout of rejection made Kenny snort quietly, and he felt his resentment begin to melt away.

"And how did your foursome go yesterday?" Kenny asked dryly.

Clyde glared back at him, but Bebe and Craig's interest piqued.

"Foursome? What foursome? You didn't tell me about this, Clyde!" Bebe exclaimed.

"Yeah, I'm pretty damn sure you would've blown up my phone with that one, dude," said Craig.

Clyde groaned and buried his head in his arms. He mumbled something unintelligible into his
sleeves.

"What was that, Donovan?" Kenny asked. He placed his hand up to his ear and leaned in.
"I didn't have a fucking foursome! The girls said that they had other plans, but one of them gave
me her number. I tried calling it last night…" Clyde sighed and covered his eyes with his hands.
"...and it was the number to the Whole Foods."

The other three at the table burst out laughing at Clyde's misfortune. An older couple a few tables
over turned to look at them with judgement in their eyes. When they had finally calmed down,
Kenny looked up and nodded at Tweek as he approached with drinks in tow. Tweek moved around
the table, placing the drinks down in front of their respective customers. He placed the final cup in
front of Craig. The milky foam on top was a mess of jagged lines.

"Is it...supposed to be your hair?" Craig asked. His face screwed up in a confusion, and the question
caused his friends to lean in, curious at what he was seeing.

"Nah, sorry about that. It's supposed to be a leaf, but I fucked up. I was practicing it all week so I'd
have it ready for you the next time you came in."

A small smile graced Craig's lips. His fingers brushed against the fringe of his hat strings.

"I'm kinda off today," Tweek continued. "Some customers were talking politics in line earlier, and
they were clearly the kind who feel that I, and others like me, should be dead or hidden away from
'good civilized people'. Pissed me off, but I was stuck in the middle of a rush, so it wasn't like I
could just go off on them, you know?"

Kenny sat up in his seat. "You okay, man?"

"Yeah," said Tweek, raking his hand through his hair. "I will be. Now that you guys have your
drinks, I'm gonna go out back and have a smoke. Want to join me?"

"Of course, dude! Do you mind waiting a little bit longer, though?" asked Kenny.

Tweek winked at Kenny. "For you, babe, always."

He looked down at Craig, who was holding his latte and staring at the odd art. He leaned down
next to him. "I'll get it right next time, cutie," he said softly into Craig's ear.

Bebe gave Craig a knowing look as Tweek walked away.

"What?" Craig asked, raising his eyebrow at her.

"You've got it bad, Craiggy," she grinned.

"I don't know what the fuck you're talking about," he said flatly. "And don't call me Craiggy. That's
fucking dumb."

"Mmhmm. You can keep denying it, but that pink in your cheeks is giving you away."

Craig cleared his throat and tried to steer the conversation away from cute baristas who he may or
may not have a crush on.

"So we know that Clyde is still at zero points. What about you, Kenny? I didn't notice any guys
with the infamous 'McCormick walk' this week."

Clyde grimaced and rolled his eyes.

"Yeah," Kenny grinned. "I knew that Donovan wasn't going to be much of a challenge, so I kept it
simple. I hooked up with Red last weekend. I didn't send her a satisfaction survey, but I'm pretty
sure she had a good time."

Bebe nodded. She knew that Clyde was already aware of Kenny scoring, but continued for the sake
of it being official. The last thing she wanted was to be blamed by one of these idiots for messing
up the validity of the competition.

"I have confirmation from Red. I mean, you both made it pretty obvious at the party, but the next
morning, Red texted me all about it." She glanced at Kenny, then looked down at the table as her
ears began to turn red. "She, ah...went into very graphic detail."

"If you liked what you heard, know that my door is always open if you want to give me a try
yourself, Bebe." He rested his chin on his hands and flashed her a lascivious grin. When she looked
back at him, he gave her a wink.

Bebe tugged at the collar of her shirt. Did Tweek crank the heat in here or was it just her?

"I, uh…" she hesitated when she saw that Clyde was staring daggers at her. "I wouldn't want to
interfere in the competition, but, uh…" She leaned over toward Kenny. "Hit me up in the spring,"
she whispered.

"Bebe!" Clyde whined.

"What? Your silly game will be over by then and you and I aren't dating, so why does it matter if I
hook-up with Kenny?"

"Yeah, Clyde," Kenny mocked, "why does it matter if I make Bebe come so many times that she
loses count?"

Clyde slammed his hands on the table and stood up. At least he tried to stand up, before his knee
gave out on him and he frantically grabbed for his crutches. Craig reached a hand out to offer his
help, but Clyde scoffed at it.

"I'll be in the car," he said quietly.

They watched as he awkwardly hopped toward the exit and fumbled with the door before heading
outside. Bebe looked concerned. Kenny rolled his eyes. Craig frowned and turned to look at the
others.

"You guys can be real dicks, you know that? And that's coming from me."

"I didn't think he'd take it that seriously," said Bebe.

"He's too emotional anyway," Kenny replied. "He needs to grow a thicker skin if he wants to be the
'number one guy' in school or whatever."

"He's been through a lot the last few days. I should've just let it go," said Bebe.

"Why? It's not your responsibility to keep him happy all the time." Kenny finished drinking his
latte and pushed the mug into the middle of the table.

"I get it, though," Bebe added. "It's not always easy to listen to your ex flirting in front of you."

"That was a bit more than casual flirting, Bebe. That was a full-on proposition and planning," said
Craig.

"I'm gonna go make sure he's okay," said Bebe.

"I'm gonna go smoke with Tweek," Kenny mumbled.

"Oh, please guys, let me pay, I insist," Craig said sarcastically to the air once he had been
abandoned by his friends.

He looked at the check and opened his wallet. Luckily he had enough cash to cover the bill and
leave a tip. He approached the empty counter and borrowed one of the pens by the register. Craig
scribbled something down and left the receipt and cash under the pen.

Thanks for the latte. I expect that leaf to look really fucking good next time. =) -C

Craig bit his lip, feeling somewhat queasy that he had actually left a smiley face. He shoved his
hands in his pockets and hurried out of the shop before he could change his mind.

"Hey, you finally made."

Tweek held out a cigarette for Kenny once he had shut the back door behind him. Kenny
graciously accepted it from him and pulled his own lighter out of his pocket.

"Yeah, thanks for waiting. After all of that," Kenny motioned toward the building, "I really need
this."

Tweek eyed Kenny as he lit his cigarette and took the first drag.

"A meeting of friends has you stressed?" asked Tweek.

"That wasn't a meeting of friends," Kenny sneered.

"Are you sure? Cause the four of you met at the same place drinking the same stuff a week ago.
That sounds like a friend date to me."

"And you say that knowing full well how I feel about Donovan? Are you off your meds, dude?"

"Fuck you," Tweek laughed. "And no, I'm not. Yeah, I know you say you hate him, but you do talk
about him a lot. Typically, if I hate someone, I don't want to talk about them ever and I sure as shit
don't want to be in the same room as them, let alone the same table. So every once in a while, I
question that hate of yours. You might not like him, but you do seem kind of obsessed with him, to
be honest."

Kenny stared at Tweek while he slowly exhaled smoke into the morning air. The alley behind
Tweak Bros was quiet and still, save for the muffled sound of some cars passing nearby. Tweek
flicked the ash from his cigarette off to the ground. It glowed for a moment and died out on the
cool asphalt.

"I take your silence as a sign that I'm right."

Kenny groaned. "This isn't Mean Girls, and he's no Regina fucking George."

He crouched down and leaned back against the cement wall.

"And if it were, he'd be the one obsessed with me. I only talk about him so much because
he's always doing something dumb. Smacking me in the face with his glove. Trying to fight me
during practice. Pretending to injure himself to get sympathy. He's stupid and pathetic."

"Wait. You think he faked that knee injury?" Tweek narrowed his eyes at his friend.

"Obviously. Act like it's a career ending injury, get people to pity you, but then 'oh, it wasn't
anything and I'll be fine!'" Kenny waved his hands wildly in the air.

"Dude. He's fucking lucky that it wasn't as bad as they thought. Like he must have a guardian angel
or something. His dad was in here getting a coffee before work and he was telling me about it."

"Why would he bother telling you about it? You and Donovan barely know each other."

"Eh, you know how parents can be. They assume everyone in our graduating class knows and likes
each other. It's kinda cute, in a way. Completely false, but cute."

Tweek dropped his butt to the ground and squashed it under his boot. Pulling out another one and
quickly lighting it, he continued.

"Anyway, he was telling me that the doctor had told him that he had been expecting an ACL tear,
but it was luckily only a…what the fuck did he call it?…grade two MCL sprain? So like an ACL
tear requires surgery and almost a year of recovery. That shit is serious. But a small MCL tear can
only take a few weeks of rest and rehab. Now do you really think that Clyde would be able to
convince his dad to not only be in on the ruse, but to go around town and spread that detailed a
story?"

Tweek inhaled, held his breath for longer than usual, then exhaled with a satisfied sigh.

"You've told me enough times that he's an idiot. That doesn't sound like something an idiot would
be able to pull off, so he's either not as dumb as you think he is, or you're full of shit, Ken. I'm
gonna assume the latter. Cause you're fuckin' obsessed with him."

Kenny shifted uncomfortably in place. Tweek calling people out on their crap was one of the
things Kenny loved about him, but he never liked it being directed at him. Especially not now.
Especially not when it came to Clyde.

Clyde had been vulnerable around Kenny on Friday night, and it was the first time in ages that they
had shared something that felt real. Something substantial. Something resembling their friendship
before things had fallen apart. It was a moment when both of their defenses were down. So when
Kenny saw Clyde taking advantage of that vulnerability, trying to use it for points in his foolish
game, it felt like it somehow invalidated that moment. Kenny knew that Tweek was right, but he
didn't want to admit it out loud.

"Whatever, Tweek." He stepped on his own finished butt and moved to the propped open back
door. "I'll see you tomorrow. I gotta go home and get ready for work."

Clyde was silent on the ride home. Bebe tried to get him to talk, to get him to engage her further on
the issue that was upsetting him. She ended up having a one-sided argument instead.

"I'm sorry I upset you in there. I didn't think it was that big a deal."
 "Is this your way of trying to say you want to date me again? Cause if it is, it's really not a great
way to go about it."

"Look, it's not up to you to decide who and when I get to fuck, Clyde! I can't believe you even have
the audacity to think you get to control me like that! Some friend you are!"

"I'm sorry I snapped like that," she sighed as she pulled into the Donovan's driveway. "I'm just
trying to figure out why you be so upset about the idea that I might hook-up Kenny. Like, it hasn't
even happened...I don't know if it ever will, and if it does, it won't be for any points. I know you
don't like him very much, but-"

"Don't like him much? Bebe...that doesn't even begin to describe how I feel about Kenny
McCormick. I loathe him. I despise him. My hatred runs deep. The guy purposely antagonizes me
whenever he gets the chance. I don't know why he feels the need to apparently only harass me, but
that's what he fucking does. And what hurts the most is that I thought I saw a different side of him
the other day. Like...the side everyone always swears is there. This cool guy that makes everyone
feel at ease. You know he came to see me after the game?"

"No, I didn't," Bebe quietly replied.

"Yeah. He did. And after I talked with him, I felt better. I felt like he understood the fear I felt. But
it turns out it was just part of his plan to be a grade A jackass. The next day he's fucking saying I
faked this injury. You know me, Bebe. I'm not that good an actor! Why would I risk everything I've
built for myself with football on faking an injury? Cause I'm not going to be able to play next
weekend for sure, and who the fuck knows if I'll be cleared for the one after that! Football is my
everything, and I really don't know what I'd do without it. But he doesn't care about that. He just
gets off shoving my face in the dirt. So that...that...is why I'm upset about the thought of you and
him together."

Clyde opened the door and placed his crutches on the outside of the car. He positioned himself on
the outer edge of the seat, then turned back to look at Bebe.

"Babe, you could sleep with the entire school and I'd be there to give you a million high fives. Just
not him. Please not him."

Clyde stood up and hopped forward, nudging the door shut with his hip. Bebe watched as he made
his way up the driveway and into his house. She ran both of her hands through her thick curls and
tugged. Letting out a groan of frustration, she shifted the car into reverse and pulled out of the
driveway. As well as she knew both guys, she really couldn't figure out just why they were making
each other this crazy.

"Fucking Christ, boys are so dumb," she sighed.

Chapter End Notes

Timeline: September 15-16

 A Friendly Proposition
Chapter Notes

Finally after 6 weeks, here's a new chapter! Today also marks one year since I first
posted this fic. Twelve chapters in a year isn't great, so I gotta start focusing on this
one so it doesn't take six years to finish! >.<

Thank you so much to everyone who reads this ridiculous story, from the people just
joining to those who have stuck it out with me from the beginning. Any time someone
tells me that this story brings them joy, I get all the warm and fuzzy feelings.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Clyde stewed alone in his room. He had brought up an ice pack from the freezer when he got
home, placing it on his knee once he had removed the brace. He rolled the ibuprofen bottle back
and forth between his hands while he sat in his computer chair with his bad leg elevated on his bed.
The sound of the pills tapping against each other as they moved was somewhat soothing.

Clyde certainly needed it. He was still miffed from the meeting earlier in the day. Bebe and Kenny.
Just the thought made Clyde's skin crawl. He had meant what he had said to Bebe; he didn't care
who she slept with, as long as it wasn't Kenny. If they ever did hook-up, he knew he would never
hear the end of it. Kenny already sent Clyde pictures of himself with Red to mock him and make
him feel inferior, what would stop him from doing the same with Bebe? He'd never be able to
unsee that. He'd have to stop being friends with Bebe and move to another country. Maybe then
he'd be able to have some sort of normal life.

McCormick. He always had a way to ruin everything.

Clyde silently cursed himself. It was his stupid idea to begin with, to have some sort of weekly
meeting. Why on Earth would he willingly put himself in a situation where he has to be around
Kenny? On a weekend, no less! He let out a bellowing yell of frustration. It felt amazing, and he
was glad that he was home alone because his dad would have been quite concerned by the sound.

Not being able to play football was definitely the suckiest part of injuring his knee, but the second
suckiest was having to stay off of it and keep it elevated all the time. Sure, Clyde loved to text and
play videogames, but he could only do that for so long before he began to feel stir crazy.

His mind drifted to thinking about Kenny. He thought about how Kenny was already in the lead,
and how he'd probably continue to be in the lead now that Clyde had this injury. It wasn't fair.
Clyde had challenged him to this with the assumption that he'd easily win, but it was obvious that it
was going to be much more difficult than he'd expected. He needed to do something. Something
that would make it much more difficult for Kenny to continue to dominate Clyde.

A smile crept across Clyde's face. He had an idea. It wouldn't stop Kenny for the rest of the
semester, but it was certainly an idea that would buy some time for Clyde to catch up. It'd be risky,
though—if he was caught, Kenny would have his ass—but it was a risk he'd have to take. Clyde
quickly picked up his phone and called the one person who could help him out in this situation.

"Heeeey Kev! What's shaking, buddy?"

"What do you need this time, Clyde?" Kevin replied dryly.

"Why would you say that? Can't a brother just call his friend to say hi?"

"Sure he could. Only you never call me unless you need some sort of tech support."

"That can't be right."

"Okay then. So what did you want to talk about?" asked Kevin.

Clyde was silent for a moment. "Um. I need help with photoshop."

"Goddammit Clyde! I'm gonna start charging you for this stuff."

"Wait, wait, hang on! I just need to know if the computer lab still has it installed. I remember how
to use the program from the last three times you helped me."

"Of course we do. What kind of computer lab would we be if we didn't have something as basic as
photoshop?"

"Well, this is Park County High we're talking about," said Clyde.

"Hmm. True."

"I'll be by the lab tomorrow during third period. It's not like the teacher who has to watch my study
hall will ever know I'm gone. I'll see you then?"

Clyde knew that this was a risky move. If someone caught him putting up these flyers—these
beautiful flyers that he designed himself, with a little help from Kevin—then this whole plan went
up in flames. There were only so many opportunities for him to spread them around the school
when no one was around. Before homeroom, he could be caught by teachers. After school, there
were too many students remaining because of clubs, band, and sports. The only time that was his
safest bet, he decided, was during a class period. He knew skipping study hall again was a bit
risky. Not that anyone really cared about study hall, but the designated babysitter would be more
likely to take notice of his absence two days in a row.

Clyde felt a rush of adrenaline as he moved through the hallways as fast as his crutches would let
him. He had no clue how Jimmy did this every day of his life. Clyde had to make sure that people
would see these flyers. They could easily go unnoticed. High school life was so full of meetings
and fundraisers and dances and games that most students didn't think to actually read what they
said. But what Clyde's flyer had to say was very important. Very inaccurate, but important
nonetheless.

Clyde jolted when a classroom door opened up behind him and students began to pour out. He had
become so wrapped up in hanging his flyers that he had lost track of time. Token and Nichole
waved at him once they made it out of the room. He moved toward them, trying to put as much
distance between the flyers and himself. It was imperative that they not be tied to him.

"Hey Clyde!" said Nichole. She opened her arms for a big welcoming hug.

"Hey you two," Clyde replied, trying his best not to seem suspicious. He returned Nichole's hug
and gave Token a fist bump. "What's up?"

"Not much, not much. Our teacher let us out a few minutes early. I don't have any solid proof, but
he did look at his phone with this shocked expression on his face, so I'm guessing he actually got a
response on Tinder," said Token.

"How do you know he's on Tinder?" asked Clyde.

"Oh please, he talks about it all time time," Nichole laughed. "It's not professional at all, but it is
pretty funny."

"So why are you out and about, hmm?" asked Token.

Clyde's eyes flashed wide with panic for a second and then returned to normal. He scanned Token
and Nichole's faces. They seemed to not have noticed.

"Ahh, you know. Just...had to take a piss at the end of study hall. Figured why bother going back
for five minutes."

His two friends nodded, accepting his answer. Token gave Nichole a look that Clyde couldn't
translate, then she smiled.

"Hey, so Token and I were wondering. Would you want to get some food after practice tonight?"

"Hell yeah! You know I'm always down to eat."

"Oh good! Cause we have something we want to talk to you about, but it probably shouldn't be
here at school."

"It's not anything bad, is it?" Clyde quirked an eyebrow. He looked back and forth between them
before relaxing his face. "Nah, let's be real. As long as Mexican food is involved, you could tell me
pretty much anything."

"Want to walk together to next period?" Token asked.

"Sure! Let's, uh, go this way, though," Clyde suggested. He wanted to steer them away from the
flyers for now. They'd have plenty of time to see them later. He didn't want them to possibly figure
out that he was the mastermind behind them.

"Why?"

"Someone got sick in the hallway," Clyde said quickly. "It's a three-janitor job. It's just safer to not
have to deal with it."

"Oh no! Yeah, Token, let's not go that way, or I'm gonna be sick, too!" said Nichole.

The three friends ventured off in the opposite direction of the flyers. Moments later, the bell rang
and the hallways filled with students. Clyde tried to act like his normal outgoing self, laughing,
smiling, and waving to friends and fans, but inside his stomach twisted and turned. He couldn't go
back now. People would have already seen what he did. He just hoped that he didn't run into
Kenny this week.

Kenny felt great after fourth period. Jazz band does wonders for the soul. He walked down the
halls with Heidi, Kyle, and Tweek, making small talk about the new piece they had sight read that
day. Kyle was the first one to notice that something was off.

"Hey. Why is everyone staring at us?"

Sure enough, the majority of the student body was gawking at them as they passed by. Some were
giggling. Others had a look of disgust on their face. Heidi started to feel self-conscious and tugged
at her beanie. They began to walk faster, but that didn't make it any better. Tweek overheard
someone whisper Kenny's name as he passed.

"They're not staring at us. They're staring at Kenny."

"Why would they be staring at me? I mean, I know I'm a hot piece of ass, but I've never had this
much attention," Kenny chuckled.

Heidi sprinted forward to a group of girls who were standing in a semicircle, staring at something
on the wall. She squeezed her way through the circle and popped up in front of a piece of paper
hanging on the wall. Her eyes widened as she quickly scanned the paper. She reached out and
ripped it down from the wall, turning around to push back through the now-complaining crowd.
Once she broke through, she walked up to Kenny and shoved the paper into his hands.

In large text, read "Kenny McCormick Gave Me a STD!" The text was accompanied by a sick
emoji, a picture of a prescription pill bottle, and Kenny's face in a circle with a slash through it. It
was almost funny in its execution, but clearly the school population was buying it as fact.

Kenny's eyes narrowed. "What the fuck? I never… I always use protection! I get tested regularly!"

"When was the last time you got tested?" Kyle asked.

"Uh...last year, I think?"

"Sounds like it's time to get tested again, my friend," Kyle said, clapping his hand on Kenny's back.

Tweek, Heidi, and Kyle continued onward, leaving Kenny standing in the middle of the hallway,
staring at the flyer. Kenny took his phone out of his pocket and ducked into the nearest bathroom.
He opened up his chat with Red and quickly shot her a text.

Did I give you a STD?

WHAT?! No!

I don't think so!

Did you?!

No! At least I don't think so!

What the hell are you

talking about, Ken?

[photo attached]

Did you make these and put them up around school?

No! I'd have better

design skills than that.

But seriously, I would

have sent you a text if that was the case.

I wouldn't have made a

tacky flyer and posted it around school.

Okay. I trust you. I'm just trying to figure out who did so I can talk to them.

Cause if I'm positive for something then I need to contact recent partners.

And you should probably get tested, too. Just to be safe.

Yeah, I know. Fuck, I

hate this.

I'm sorry to drag you into my mess.

It's fine. Shit happens,

right? I'm just happy that you let me know.

Cause a lot of dudes

wouldn't.

Anyway, I'll hit you up

later.

Kenny put his phone down on the top of the sink. He leaned over, shoulders hunched, and stared
down at the drain. He tried to run a mental list of the people he had sex with over the summer, and
even last spring. He always prided himself in remembering the names of everyone he hooked up
with, but he was blanking on some of them and that made him anxious. It couldn't be any of the
exchange students who had visited South Park over the summer. They were going to school in
Denver, and who would go through the work to travel out here to this podunk town to place flyers
about some guy you hooked up with? No, it had to be someone at this school.

Kenny looked up into the mirror. His hair was a mess from rocking out to the beat in jazz band. He
wet his hands and raked them through his locks until he was satisfied with the results. He sighed
and picked up his phone, shoving it into his jeans. He was already late for US History, and he
knew he'd get chewed out by his teacher. Maybe if he was lucky, his teacher would have seen the
flyers and take pity on him.

The rest of the day wasn't any easier for Kenny. People continued to stare at him and share
whispered jokes and rumors about him. Even his fellow bandmates looked at him differently. It
wasn't like his life was ruined by this—he wasn't the kind of guy to think his entire life balanced on
his high school experience—but it certainly put a damper on it.

Band rehearsal felt tense when it was supposed to be relaxing and fun. When he tried helping some
of the underclassmen with their stick placement, they flinched at his touch, like they thought they
would get an STD simply by coming in contact with him. Tweek kept sending him looks from the
cymbal line, but couldn't say whatever was on his mind during rehearsal. Once a water break was
called, he was on top of Kenny.

"So who do you think did it?" he asked.

"What do you mean?" Kenny responded, trying his best to feign ignorance.

"You know damn well what I mean. Out of all of the people you were raw dogging over the
summer, who do you think got the STD?"

Tweek acted so nonchalant about the entire thing. It honestly infuriated Kenny. This was a serious
allegation to him, and Tweek was acting like it was no big deal.

"Hey, I always practice safer sex, for your information. There was no raw dogging going on. I'm an
ethical slut, thank you very much."

Tweek didn't often see Kenny pout, but he was certainly getting a front row seat right now.

"Sorry, man. Didn't know it was such a sore subject. Always with the safer sex. Got it."

Tweek took a long drink from his water bottle. A trail of water dribbled down from his mouth, over
his chin, and down the contour of his neck. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before
he continued.

"Anyway, my question remains. Who do you think made the flyer?"

"Fuck, I wish I knew. I know it wasn't Red. I texted her immediately and I don't think she would lie
to me. She and I are on a similar wavelength when it comes to sex, so I think if I had passed
something to her, she would've come to me directly. Craig would've, too. He can be a bitch
sometimes, but he would never humiliate a friend like that."

"You've had sex with Craig?" Tweek asked quietly.

"Yeah." Kenny's voice trailed off as he slipped into deep thought. Mentally going through his
sexual rolodex required his full attention.

Tweek fell quiet next to Kenny. He took another swig from his water bottle. While his head was
tipped back, his eyes glanced over to the top of the bleachers. They were empty. Tweek sighed and
stretched his legs out on the grass.

"You wanna know my theory?" he asked, bringing Kenny back to the present. "I think Clyde made
them."

"Donovan?" Kenny scoffed. "I told you, he's too stupid and simple to think of something so
diabolical."

Tweek rolled his eyes.

"My dude, you clearly took nothing away from our conversation the other day…" Tweek muttered
under his breath. "I'm just saying that since you guys are always at each other's throats, it's at least
possible that he'd do something to humiliate you publicly. Which this has clearly done."

"I'll survive. I'm gonna get tested to prove I'm clean." Kenny unscrewed the cap to his water and
rolled it around between his fingers. "I mean, like…there's no fucking way he could've done this!
All he ever thinks about is football and protein shakes and dumbass competitions to see who's the
top guy in school!"

"What was that?" Tweek asked, his eyebrow quirked in curiosity.

Kenny immediately took a long gulp of his water so that he didn't have to answer.

Tweek shook his head and continued. "Whatever, man. How about this? I bet you twenty bucks
that it's Clyde. If it wasn't him, or even if we never figure out who did it for certain, you win. I
am that fucking certain."

"Bitch, you know I don't have twenty bucks," Kenny laughed.

"I know for a fact you do. I know those horny housewives love to make it rain all over your City
Wok-smelling ass."

"Hey everyone! Let's come in to concert band formation to run through the music together!"
Wendy called out on her megaphone.

"Fine, dick" Kenny laughed as he stood up and dusted off his jeans. "But you'd better make sure
you keep that money nice and safe so that it's ready for when I'm right."

"Oh, Taco Bell! Why do you have to be so fucking delicious?" Clyde took a huge bite of his cheesy
crunchy something-resembling-a-taco and bounced up and down in his chair.

Nichole rested her chin in her hands, smiling and giggling at her friend. Token took a sip of his
Diet Coke before taking a deep breath. He could talk to his best friend about anything, yet he still
felt nervous.

"So what did you guys wanna talk to me about?" Clyde interjected in between bites.

Token glanced at Nichole. Looking at her made him feel better. She was always able to calm him
when was nervous. She must have felt his eyes on her because she turned to look at him and
smiled. That smile gave him the confidence to do anything.

"We've known each other for a long time, right?" Token asked.

"Yeah, dude! Since you moved here in fourth grade!" said Clyde.

"And would you say we've gotten close over the years?"

"You're one of my best friends, Black Thunder!"

Nichole's giggle turned into a full out guffaw. "That is too cute! You never told me he called you
that."

Token turned to Nichole. "Yeah, that's cause I hate it. Anyway," he said, facing Clyde once again,
"would you say that we can talk to each other about anything? Nothing is off limits?"

"Yeah, bro. What's up?"

"Well...Nichole and I were wondering if you would be open to having a threesome with us."

Clyde inhaled sharply while drinking his Mountain Dew and began to cough as some of the sugary
drink went down the wrong pipe. Token and Nichole waited patiently for him to regain his
composure, hoping this wasn't his way of answering. Clyde took a few deep breaths to steady
himself. He looked back and forth between his two friends, trying to read their expressions. They
had to be joking. Right? Yet the looks he saw reflected back at him were completely serious.

"You had me going there for a minute, you guys," Clyde anxiously laughed. "That's not the
funniest joke ever, but you got me."

"That wasn't a joke, Clyde," said Nichole. "This is something that Token and I have talked about
for a while."

"You guys talked about having a threesome with me?" Clyde's face radiated embarrassed heat.

"Not specifically you. At least it didn't start that way," Nichole replied. "We've been talking about
trying to have a threesome with another guy since last spring. It could have been anyone, in theory,
but after much searching and discussion, we decided that you were who we wanted to ask."

She smiled sweetly at Clyde. It left him with a very confused half-chub. Normally he wouldn't be
aroused by a smile from his friend, but now that he knew some of her darker intentions, he couldn't
help but wonder what other dirty secrets she might be hiding.

"Okay. Okay now. I have some questions. Token, you're gay?"

Token's head fell forward, a sigh escaping his lips. He had a feeling that this was going to be a
topic that came up.

"No, I'm not gay, Clyde, and before you ask," he put his hand up to pause Clyde, whose mouth was
already open, "yes, I am attracted to men. And women. I'm bisexual."

"Both of us are," Nichole added.

Clyde stared at them, mouth agape, trying to process all of this. He knew about bisexuality. He
knew it was hot when a girl was bi, but he didn't know a lot of guys who were. Craig was gay, of
that he was certain. That Tweek guy might be bi, cause he certainly seemed smitten with Craig, but
he didn't know if he liked more than just guys. ...Kenny. Kenny definitely had slept with men and
women, so he was probably bi. Ugh. Why did everything always seem to come back to him?

"I always forget about bisexuality," said Clyde.

"Yeah...a lot of people do. We don't talk to many people about it, and we've been together for so
long that people just assume we're straight." Nichole had a faintly sad look in her eyes.

"Okay then. So...why a threesome? Are you guys getting bored of each other? Like you're trying to
spice things up or something? We haven't even graduated high school yet!"

It was Token's turn to laugh. "No, Clyde. We're not getting bored of each other. We've just been
together for so long that we've been able to like...develop and explore out sexuality together. So we
feel comfortable sharing fantasies with each other, and this is an experience we want to try."

Clyde's eyes were still wide as saucers. He'd only dated a few girls, with his relationship with Bebe
had been the longest, but he'd never shared sexual fantasies with any of them. He thought fantasies
were supposed to be left to porn. The idea of feeling safe and secure enough in a relationship to be
open and honest with your partner? That was next level stuff. That was-

"Hashtag relationship goals," he said.

"We decided to ask you because you're a close friend whom we feel comfortable around," said
Nichole. "You're sweet, you're cute as hell, and unlike a lot of the other guys at school, we trust
you to respect our boundaries."

"And look, we know this is a lot to take in all at once," Token added. "That's, uh, kind of why we
asked you out to get food. We wanted you to be in a safe, familiar place when we asked you."

"When you thought safe and familiar place for me, your first thought was Taco Bell?" Clyde raised
an eyebrow in question.

"...Were we wrong?" asked Token.

Clyde shifted in his seat. He glanced down at his food, then up at the ceiling.
"No. You're not wrong. I'm just kind of miffed that I'm so associated with tacos that even my
closest friends can't think of anything else."

"Well, it was either here or on the football field, and we figured that might be a little awkward.
Asking you to linger on the field after practice and then dropping this on you."

"We thought you might think we were expecting you to have the threesome right then and there on
the fifty yard line," Nichole giggled.

"Yeah, that sounds like something I'd think," Clyde smiled. "Um…" His hands fidgeted on his lap,
anxious and feeling like they needed to be in constant motion. "...let me think about this?"

"Of course, dude. Take all the time you need," said Token.

"I mean, like...would you be expecting...like...you and me to...you know?"

"Nah, dude. I know you're straight. You wouldn't have to do anything that makes you
uncomfortable. We could just focus on Nichole, if you wanted."

Clyde looked down at his fidgeting fingers. His mind felt foggy. He never thought something
could cause him to lose his appetite, but he didn't really feel like finishing his food right now.

"Anyway," said Nichole, "It's getting kinda late, and I still have to do my homework."

The three friends picked up their trash and tossed it out as they left the restaurant. They exchanged
hugs as they went to their separate cars.

"Hey, Clyde," Token said after he opened the door to his BMW sedan. "Remember, it's your
choice. We won't be offended if you don't want to do this. We don't want this to hurt our
friendship."

He closed the door and started the ignition. The couple quickly pulled out of the parking lot and
down the road, leaving Clyde alone with his tangled mess of thoughts.

He didn't want this to hurt their friendship either, but he felt like it had already changed. Just the act
of them proposing a threesome put their friendship on a whole other level. Whether it ended up
happening or not, he'd always look at them differently.

Why, though?

He was still best friends with Bebe, and he had seen her naked countless times. He knew about the
tiny mole on her inner thigh. He knew that squeezing her hips in just the right spot when she was
close to orgasm would send her over the edge. Yet he didn't look at her any differently than he had
before they had dated. Was it because they had been in love at one point? Like the sex had meant
something, so it didn't feel awkward now that they were just friends? Sex with Token and Nichole
would just be casual, right? People don't just have casual sex with their friends.

Sex with friends. They'd see each other naked. Token and Clyde had been playing sports together
for years, so they had obviously shared a shower together hundreds of times, but no one really ever
looked at their teammates when they were showering. Well, maybe Clyde had taken a peek at
some of the guys here and there—but that was strictly in order to know if he was average or not in
the junk department! Token and Nichole would be getting a real good look at him naked, and he'd
be getting a look at them. What if Token later resented him for having seen Nichole naked? What
if she resented him?
Also, he was straight! Sure, Token said they could focus on Nichole, but their naked bodies would
probably still touch at some point, right? That's how threesomes worked. At least that's what Clyde
had seen in most porn. Even if they didn't touch, they'd still be watching each other fucking. Was
Token actually okay with his best friend fucking his girlfriend in front of him? Was that fair?
Wasn't that cheating?

Clyde put his car in park, uncertain about how he got home in the first place. He didn't remember
driving home. He had been too lost in his head. He took a deep breath, glad that he hadn't gotten
into any accidents while he was apparently on auto-pilot.

The next day wasn't much better for either Kenny or Clyde. They were both stuck in their heads, in
their own problems. They were so distracted that they blindly crossed paths several times in the
hallways without noticing each other. This was not lost on their friends. However, they didn't
bother bring it up to either of them. Honestly, the peace and quiet was welcome after the past few
weeks.

In the locker room after practice, Clyde felt more self-conscious than normal. Now that this
proposition hung over his head, he wondered if Token was going to be appraising him in the
shower. Like what if Token started staring at him, and decided that he had too much of a belly?
What if he realized that Nichole wouldn't want to be with someone who had some squish in the
middle? Or what if he looked downstairs? Clyde always thought he was a good size, but what if
they didn't feel it was enough?

He kept his towel tightly around his waist for as long as he could. He wished he could have worn it
into the shower, but a soggy towel was the worst. A bunch of the guys were still showering,
including Token. Unfortunately for Clyde, the only free nozzle was right next to him.

"Hey, dude!" Token greeted.

His smile seemed brighter today. His eyes almost seemed to twinkle when he saw Clyde. Was this
real? Or was Clyde starting to see things?

"Hey," Clyde mumbled.

"Great practice today. I think we're gonna crush Bennett on Friday. We're gonna show them that
there's no such thing as the home field advantage," Token chuckled.

Did Token's laugh always sound this melodic? It was actually kind of cute.

"You've been awfully quiet today, dude," said Token. "Are you okay?"

Clyde ran his hands through his hair as the water poured over it. He tried to occupy him with the
shower to buy him time to find the right words to say. The right words to sum up how he was
feeling.

"Is it about last night?" Token lathered up his shower sponge and began to wash up. "Cause if it is,
seriously, don't worry about it. Just forget we ever said anything. It is kind of a weird thing to be
asking a friend."

Clyde began to furiously scrub his shampoo into his hair. "It's not that. I mean, it is. It's about last
night, but it's not what you think. I'm just feeling…" His voice trailed off as he looked over at
Token.
Token's body was covered in a foamy lather, and as he rinsed it off, Clyde couldn't look away. His
strong hands rubbed against his smooth skin. He didn't have much in the way of chest hair, but
Clyde liked that. He had always been bothered by how much hair he had covering his body.
Clyde's eyes followed the cascading water as it ran down Token's body—every ridge, bump, and
line of definition seemed highlighted. Clyde found himself thinking something he had never
thought before.

Token was hot.

Clyde swallowed hard. "... conflicted about it," he finally finished.

"Does that mean we didn't completely scare you away?"

"Nah. You guys could never scare me away. But, uh...well...I guess I'm still thinking about it."

"I'd be lying if I said that doesn't make me happy," Token smiled.

He turned off the water to his shower nozzle and headed over to pick up his towel off the bar.

"Remember, take all time you need. See you tomorrow, bro."

Clyde watched Token wrap the towel around his waist and disappear into the locker room. As he
finished washing up, he was hyper aware of one thing. He had felt genuinely disappointed when
Token put his towel on.

The thought took him by surprise. Straight guys don't look at other guys and think they're hot.
Except maybe if the guy is Chris Evans, but shit, he's Captain America. It'd be unpatriotic to not
admit his hotness. Was this all because of yesterday? Suddenly Clyde was checking out his friend,
what, just because he told him that he was bi, and said he and his girlfriend wanted to have sex with
him?

Nichole was definitely hot, too. Clyde wouldn't have admitted this to Token before, but Clyde had
often checked her out in her cheerleading outfit. Once he even saw her cheeky panties when she
was bending over. Seriously, were Token and Nichole always this hot?

But still! Clyde didn't check out other guys! Usually. At least when he did, he never did so because
he liked it. Or did he? Did he find men attractive? When did that happen?

On Thursday, Clyde purposely avoided Token all day. It was impossible to avoid him during
practice, but he only engaged in whatever contact was required. To his credit, Token was totally
cool with it. He respected Clyde's space while he needed it.

While Clyde was attempting to relax and go to sleep that night, his mind was infiltrated by
thoughts of the proposition once again. This time, however, the thoughts were about Nichole. Soft,
curvy, feminine Nichole. At first he remembered that she had told him to his face that she wanted
to have sex with him. That was sexy as hell, and gave him a guilt-free reason to think about
touching her, about kissing her, about fucking her.

He wrapped his hand around his cock and began to stroke himself as he thought about what her
breasts would feel like in his hands. What her nipples would feel like between his fingertips. What
her pussy would feel like when his dick was buried inside. Each stroke felt so good.

Then he started thinking about Token's hands sliding around his waist from behind. He thought
about feeling Token's lips against his shoulder and his neck while he fucked Nichole. He wondered
 what Token's hard dick would feel like pressed against his ass. Without hesitation, Clyde took his
other hand and licked his index finger before reaching down and rubbing it against his asshole. He
didn't press in at all. He didn't have time to before he came in his hand.

Clyde snuck down the hall into the bathroom to clean up. His cheeks still felt warm as he washed
his hands and dried them off. He was afraid of what this all meant. He had just had one of the best
nuts of his life while he was thinking of a guy and touching his asshole. When he had told Token
that he was feeling conflicted, he was telling the truth. But he hadn't specified that what he was
feeling conflicted about was one of the few things that he had been certain about in his life. His
sexuality.

Chapter End Notes

Timeline: September 16-20

 Questions and Answers
Chapter Notes

Hello everyone! This chapter came out differently than what I had originally planned,
namely I postponed some things (aka smut) to change up the in-story timeline.

Speaking of which, I've gone back and added to the end of each chapter when the
chapters take place. Since the story is long and is gonna take a long time to write, I
figured it would be helpful to know how much time was passing for the characters.
When I wrote my outline, I organized it by school week from a 2018 calendar, so that's
what I'm basing them from.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

The digital clock across the room advanced another minute. 1:17AM. Clyde stared at it from his
bed, wishing it would go backwards in time. He had been unable to fall sleep for almost two hours.
After his intense masturbatory adventure, he had tried, his body relaxed and blissful, but his mind
was much too busy. His thoughts were twisted up in confusing knots.

Clyde had always identified as straight, even though he'd honestly never really thought about it in
the first place. He just always knew that he liked girls. Sure, sometimes when he watched porn,
he'd pick orgy clips where two guys also happened to be getting down with each other, but he
always paid more attention to the bouncing tits and pussies getting railed. Only once or twice did
his eyes wander over to the guys. The guy who was getting his ass reamed did seem to be enjoying
it, though. Either maybe it didn't hurt as much as Clyde thought it did, or the guy was an amazing
actor. Porn stars weren't really known for their acting, though, so…

He rubbed his hands over his face and sighed. This wasn't normal, right? Suddenly having a crisis
of sexuality? Once you knew, you knew. That's what he always thought. Like Craig said he always
knew he was gay. He never felt confused about who he liked and what he was looking for in a
partner. So why was Clyde going through this? All that happened was that Token and Nichole
asked if he wanted to join them in a threesome. He could've just said no thanks. Or he could've
said yes, as long as Nichole was in the middle. He could have said any of that.

But he didn't. He had said let me think about it. It's like his mind was just waiting for a chance to
question his sexuality, but he had never given it a chance until now. Was that a thing? A sexuality
sleeper cell? Clyde rolled over and grabbed his phone off of the bedside table. He opened the
internet browser and headed to Google. He had to find out if he was normal or not.

Typing in the questions "how common is male bisexuality?" and "is it normal to question your
sexuality?" brought him a lot of helpful information, but nothing provided as much reassurance
as "is it normal for a guy to fantasize about his bro?" That search led him to Reddit. It was there
where he found dozens of stories from other guys sharing similar feelings and experiences. It was
so easy to relate to these men that Clyde was quickly drawn into their world.

The sound of his alarm going off made Clyde's heart jump into his throat. How long had he been
asleep? He sat up in bed too fast and suddenly felt that he had a pounding headache. He couldn't
remember what time it had been when he last checked, but he clearly did not get enough sleep.
After a shower that was ineffective at making him more alert, and getting dressed, he found himself
downstairs preparing a bowl of cereal.

"Clyde, what are you doing?!" Mr. Donovan exclaimed as he entered the kitchen.

Clyde rolled his eyes and put the carton back down onto the table. "Making some breakfast, dad.
I'm allowed to do that, right?"

"Uh, yeah, you are, and you clearly woke up on the wrong side of the bed. I was just trying to stop
you before you poured orange juice onto your frosted flakes."

Clyde looked down at the table in front of him. Sure enough, a carton of OJ was placed right next
to his bowl and there was no milk in sight. "Shit."

"Language, please."

"Sorry, dad. I just...I didn't sleep very well last night, and I feel groggy and tired and apparently I
can't read now either." Clyde returned the juice to the refrigerator and grabbed the milk instead.

"Is everything okay? Having you been having frequent trouble sleeping? Is it because of your knee
pain? Do you want me to call the doctor?"

Clyde smiled as he poured the milk and put it back. He appreciated that his dad cared so much
about his well-being and tried his best to look out for him, but ever since his mom had died, his
dad became somewhat overbearing. It was sweet, albeit annoying.

"Nah, it was just a one night thing. I was up reading about -"

Clyde stopped himself mid-sentence. He almost admitted to his dad that he was questioning his
sexuality! He didn't know how his dad would react to that, and honestly, he didn't want anyone to
know about this. Not until he was sure about the answer.

"- sports. Football. Like, tips on easing back into playing after a knee injury."

"I'm happy that you're eager to get back on the field, but take it easy. Don't push yourself too hard.
You'll know when it feels right." Mr. Donovan looked at his phone and made a slight grunting
noise. "I hate working with east coast suppliers. They text me way too early in the morning.
Anyway, Clyde, I'm going to be working late tonight, so I won't be able to drive out to the game."

"That's fine, dad. If you want, I can have one of the other parents take a picture of me on the bench
so you can see what you missed."

Thankfully his dad didn't take his comment too seriously, as it was intended as a joke. They both
laughed with each other before Mr. Donovan disappeared into the house to answer the text. Clyde
looked down at his now soggy cereal and sighed. Not wanting to waste food, he scarfed down the
mush and drank the remaining milk, a few drops dripping down out of the corner of his mouth.

As he got inside his beloved E Honda, he thought about something his dad had said. You'll know
when it feels right. He had meant it as a comment on football, but it felt very fitting for Clyde's
actual dilemma.

"I'll know when it feels right," he said to himself as he pulled out onto the road. "I sure hope he's
right."
"Hey!"

Clyde was woken up by a smack to the back of his head. He looked around and realized that he
was still sitting outside at lunch.

"Dude. What is up with you today?" asked Craig. "You were falling asleep in Spanish, too. I know
it's a boring class, but I've never seen you this out of it."

"Oh," said Clyde. He rubbed his eyes and took a bite of his sandwich like nothing had happened.

"Oh?" asked Craig. "Don't you be oh-ing me, dude. I know something is going on with you, so
spill."

"I'm just tired, that's all."

"Okay. Why are you tired?"

"Because I didn't get enough sleep last night."

"Oh my god, dude, you're killing me. Why didn't you get enough sleep last night?" asked Craig.

Clyde panicked and shoved the remainder of his sandwich into his mouth so that he couldn't
answer.

"Really? We're gonna play that game? You know you're eventually going to have to chew and
swallow that. Or do you really think that you can just go around the rest of the day with a huge wad
of half-chewed roast beef sandwich in your mouth?"

Clyde made a series of unintelligible noises that were probably supposed to be words. A small
piece of sandwich must have become stuck in his throat, as he began to cough and quickly spit out
the food onto the ground next to him.

"Fucking gross, dude." Craig crossed his arms. "Since I had to witness that trainwreck, you now
owe it to me to tell me what your problem is."

Clyde groaned. He really didn't want to risk his secret shame becoming public information. Craig
wasn't a gossip, but he was also friends with Bebe, and she definitely was a gossip. However, Craig
was also the only guy who Clyde would feel comfortable talking to about questioning sexuality,
and he'd probably understand since he's already gay. He sighed and gave in to his friend's demands.

"So…um... I was up late last night researching…stuff. I've been... I've been,
uh…questioning...some things the last few days."

Clyde looked up at Craig through his lashes. When their eyes locked, it took a few seconds for
Craig to realize what Clyde was trying to get at.

"Oh. Oh. Really? You? Aren't you, like, the poster child for heterosexuality?"

"Wait, what? Is that an actual a thing?" Clyde asked.

"No, dude. It's just a phrase" Craig sighed. "But, like, you're always talking about girls and stuff.
I'm just shocked...confused really...about why you would suddenly start questioning your
orientation."
Clyde started to blush as he thought about that night at Taco Bell. Craig noticed the growing pink
in his cheeks and raised an eyebrow. He really wanted to know what—or more accurately, who—
would cause Clyde to have that sort of reaction. Craig suspected that Clyde wouldn't have just
started to question his sexuality on his own, but he also didn't want to push his friend to share too
much while he was feeling so vulnerable.

"It's fine, dude," said Craig. "You don't need to tell me if you don't feel comfortable. I just always
assumed you were straight."

"Heh, so did I," Clyde snorted.

"If anything, it just shows that I shouldn't assume someone's sexuality. None of us should, really.
It's really common for people to question. Even if you come to the conclusion that yes, you are
definitely straight, at least you actually gave it thought, you know? Instead of just blindly going
with what society tells us we should be."

Craig put his arm around Clyde and pulled him close.

"No matter where you decide you stand on the spectrum, I support you," said Craig.

Clyde rested his head against Craig shoulder. It felt like a little of the weight had been lifted off of
his mind.

"Just know that this isn't a teen movie. I'm not gonna kiss you to help you figure it out. You're on
your own for that," said Craig.

"Where the fuck did that come from?" Clyde asked as he pulled away from Craig. His face was
twisted up in confusion, but he was laughing at the same time.

"Things were getting a little too serious for my tastes. I had to lighten the mood. It worked though,
right?" Craig winked at him.

"I love you, dude," Clyde laughed.

"What? No 'no homo' at the end?" Craig asked, feigning shock.

"Nope. I figure I should probably stop using that phrase, especially since it might not be true
anymore. Maybe I should start saying 'no homo, unless you're interested?"

"I think you should stick with just cutting it out of your vocabulary completely," Craig said,
shaking his head. "And I love you, too, dude. All homo, all the time."

Craig laughed as Clyde threw his apple core at him.

In all the years of his high school football career, Clyde had never been stuck on the bench. Even if
it was only for a few minutes, he found himself on the field every game, no matter what. Being
forced to stay on the sidelines for an entire game due to injury was quite depressing, even if he
knew it was for the best in the long run. He was thankful that his teammates weren't making a big
deal about it. He was also a little pissed off that his teammates weren't making a big deal about it.
Of course he was feeling conflicted emotions about it. That was clearly the theme of the week.
Clyde was also feeling conflicted about the fact that Token had avoided him the entire night. He
purposely sat several seats behind him on the bus. He didn't eat dinner with him. Clyde understood
what Token was doing. He wanted to give him space to figure things out. He didn't want to make
Clyde feel like he was being pressured in any way. It was exactly what Clyde needed, but it still
hurt to feel like one of your best friends was ignoring you.

Clyde desperately wanted to talk to someone. Craig had helped earlier that afternoon, but after such
a depressing night and still being in his head, he felt a strong urge to get another person's
perspective. Luckily for him, Stan decided to sit next to him on the bus ride home.

"Hey, man," said Clyde. "Good job out there tonight. You gave it your all."

"Yeah, I guess. But my all wasn't enough, obviously. And we were so damn close, too." Stan
slumped down in the seat and pouted.

"Don't worry, dude. It's not like one loss is going to ruin our chances of going to the playoffs this
year." Clyde glanced out the window. "I'd be lying if I said it didn't make me a little happy to know
the team couldn't win without me."

"I think we could have won, even without you, if our heads had been in the game. I can't help but
think that Token has something major on his mind. I've been dealing with some things, too."

Clyde looked at Stan with a questioning expression.

"Ah…just relationship stuff," Stan shrugged. "Stuff no one wants to hear about."

"I've been distracted, too."

Clyde and Stan were quiet for a while. Both drifted off into their own heads. It was late and the rest
of the bus was slowly calming down, with some players falling asleep after the devastating loss.
Once it looked like enough people were sleeping for Clyde to not be nervous about others hearing
in, he went for it.

"Hey, Stan?"

"Yeah, buddy?"

Clyde lowered his voice and leaned in toward Stan. "Do you think it's weird for a guy to fantasize
about another guy? Specifically, a friend?"

Stan fell quiet. He looked straight ahead, not bothering to turn to face Clyde when he finally spoke
up.

"Why do you ask?"

Clyde swore he saw Stan blushing, but he wasn't about to bring it up now. Stan said he dealing with
relationship stuff, but he clearly did not want to talk about it. He was deflecting to Clyde. Clyde
still didn't feel comfortable going into detail with anyone about his fantasies about Token and
Nichole, especially not a fellow teammate. He swallowed hard and continued as vaguely as
possible.

"I've just been, ah… Well, over the past week, when I've, you know...jerked it... I've been thinking
about a guy friend."

Stan leaned away slightly. "It's not me, is it?"

"Nah, dude. It's not you. Don't worry." Clyde sat back up straight and looked out the window.

"Okay. Good. Cause I'm, like, totally straight, dude."

The uncomfortable silence that fell between them made Clyde shift in his seat. This was an awful
idea. He had thought that getting another perspective, one from someone who wasn't Craig,
someone who wasn't gay, would help him get closer to feeling "right". It did not. It made him feel
even worse.

Of course Craig would say it's normal to fantasize about a guy. He does it all the time! It's normal
for him! But it's not normal for a straight guy. So...Clyde must be bisexual if he's having these
fantasies, is that it? Maybe Stan actually brought him closer to an answer than he originally
thought.

But the way Stan looked at him, and the tone of his voice when Clyde admitted to having those
feelings… Clyde didn't like it at all. If this was what being bisexual was going to feel like—having
people looking at him differently, his straight guy friends feeling uncomfortable around him, just…
feeling different in general—then he didn't want any part of it.

Clyde must have sighed pretty loudly because Stan finally spoke up once more.

"But, uh, if it makes you feel any better, dude… I have another friend who also told me once that
he's fantasized about another guy. So I don't think it's weird or abnormal, you know? I think it's a
totally healthy thing to do. I just haven't ever done that. I have a girlfriend, so...I'd never need to
fantasize about anyone else but her, you know?"

Clyde couldn't help but smile as Stan spoke. He was looking straight forward and his posture was
rigid while he spoke. Stan was not a great liar. Still, him being willing to admit this to Clyde, even
if it was in a roundabout way, made Clyde feel better. If Stan the Man even occasionally had
fantasies about guys, then maybe it wasn't so bad.

"Thanks, Stan."

"No problem, bro."

"And please, tell your friend thank you, too," said Clyde with a grin.

Stan fell silent once again, a bright pink flush setting high in his cheeks.

"Thank you for coming with me."

"Yeah." Red twiddled her fingers anxiously. "It's not like I had anything else to do on a Saturday."

"Is that sarcasm?" Kenny chuckled.

He knew the Community Health Clinic was not a hot spot for teens. It felt nice, though, to have a
friend there with him. Someone who could relate to his plight. Granted it was someone who could
relate because he actively put them at risk, but still.

"Mm, only partly. I didn't actually have anything to do today, but I'm still tired from the away
game last night. We didn't get back till one in the morning, and I was freaking exhausted." She
looked up from her hands and smiled at Kenny. "And you're welcome. I'm honestly glad that
you're here, too. I'm still nervous, but it'd be so much worse if I was alone."

Kenny cocked his head to the side. "Why are you nervous? We used a condom. I
mean...we didn't use a condom for oral stuff, but…"

"Oh god, Kenny, please! You're not helping!"

"Sorry, sorry… I guess I'm nervous, too. I've been tested before and I've always been clean, but this
whole STD accusation has me in my head."

Red's eyebrows furrowed and she pursed her lips. "Can I tell you something?" she asked.

"Of course."

"I've, uh, I've never actually been tested." She lowered her head, focusing her attention on her
frantic fingers once again.

Kenny shifted in his seat to face Red. "I wouldn't say that's anything to feel ashamed about. Not
that many people our age are concerned with STDs and shit. It's that whole I'm
invincible mentality, you know? But guess what?" Kenny smiled and leaned down so that Red
could see his face. "You're getting tested now. I think that deserves some fucking credit."

Kenny held up his hand with the palm facing Red. She looked up at him, with his goofy grin and
his hand ready for a high five, and couldn't help but laugh. She sat up and gave him what he was
looking for.

"You are a rare breed of guy, Kenny." Red put her hand up to her mouth in thought. "Are you
interested in dating at the moment? Cause you would make such a good boyfriend."

Kenny rubbed the back of his neck. "I don't know about that," he chuckled. "I'm not really looking
for a relationship right now. Just kinda looking for casual hook-ups for a while."

"Fair enough," she said, her hand gently touching his shoulder. "I figured I'd check."

"Rebecca?" A medical assistant stood in the doorway to the waiting room, searching for whoever
responded to the name.

Red cringed and stood up. "I hate my real name so much. I'm changing it as soon as I'm eighteen, I
swear."

She took a deep breath and headed toward the door. She stopped and turned to Kenny one more
time before walking through "I meant what I said, by the way. You'd be an awesome boyfriend,
and I'm gonna be hella jealous of whoever you end up with."

The door closed behind her before Kenny could respond. He immediately took out his phone and
sent her a text. No one says hella anymore, dork. Still, her words stuck with him.

He'd never actually dated anyone because I never wanted anyone to get too close, too attached. He
had decided when he was younger that he'd make an awful boyfriend. Too poor. He wouldn't be
able to take his partner out on dates or give them gifts. Too focused on his future. Would a
potential partner be willing to work around his practice and work schedules? Too flirty. He was
never sure if he ever could be faithful because he loved to flirt with anyone he found attractive, and
even if he was faithful, he didn't want to deal with the jealousy that would inevitably happen from
his flirtatious behavior. So he just decided it was easier to play the game as a free agent. It had
worked for him so far, but maybe someday he'd try that whole commitment thing.

For the right person.

"Kenny?"

He raised his hand to alert the medical assistant to his presence before following them back into the
clinic.

Tweek Bros Coffee was awfully quiet on Sunday morning. When Craig and Bebe arrived, they
were surprised to find Clyde and Kenny already sitting at the table together, alone, with no signs of
struggle to be found. They looked at each other and shrugged, deciding to sit with them anyway.

Clyde and Kenny didn't look up when Craig and Bebe sat down. Kenny was staring obsessively at
his phone, either refreshing a screen or scrolling through something every few seconds. Clyde was
staring off into the middle distance, blinking a lot slower than usual. Neither were saying a word. It
was borderline disturbing.

Tweek came over with their usual orders and opened his mouth to make a smartass remark, only to
freeze in place. He slowly placed the tray down onto the table and took a step back.

"I want to ask what's going on...but I'm also afraid of the answer."

Bebe nodded. "Yeah. I think we all know what's on Kenny's mind at the moment, but I'm also
afraid to find out what's going on with Clyde."

"I know the answer to that," said Craig. "But it's not my place to share what it is. Let's just say
there's a lot on his mind, too."

"Do you guys want me to put these in to-go cups?" Tweek asked.

"That's probably a good idea," said Bebe.

Tweek took the tray and returned to his spot behind the counter.

"So...I'm guessing we should just call this, right?" asked Craig. "Or are we supposed to sit here in
silence while these two idiots stew in their heads?"

"Yeah, no. I'm not wasting my Sunday morning on them if they're going to be like this. I could be
having brunch with the girls right now," said Bebe.

"Sounds good. But, uh, just so Clyde doesn't come after me later for it, we should probably just
confirm their scores or whatever."

"Clyde didn't tell me about any hook-ups, and you know he'd tell me like ten seconds after he was
done. Plus, I haven't heard any gossip about it from the girls."

"Same thing with Kenny. After the whole STD scandal, I'm not sure when he's going to get another
one, honestly. He said he was going to get tested, and he's probably clean because he is really
careful, but shit happens. Also now that he's labeled like that, even if it isn't true, it could be hard
for people to not see him as the STD guy."
"So, you know what Clyde's deal is?" asked Bebe.

"Yeah. But like I said, it's not my place to talk about it. I'm pretty sure he'll tell you once he's come
to terms with things. This is Clyde we're talking about."

"Alright, assholes, here are your orders to go." Tweek placed each drink down in front of the
respective person. He placed Craig's down in front of him and opened the lid. "You're killing me
here, cutie. I tried to save the leaf as best I could." He nodded toward the cup.

Craig learned forward and smiled at the messy latte foam in a vague leaf-like design.

"And after all that practice I did this week." Tweek shook his head and crossed his arms, a faux
frown on his face.

Craig picked up the latte and took a drink, sipping up all of the milky foam. He put the lid back on
top of it and looked up at Tweek. "Consider yourself off the hook for the leaf..." Craig wiped off
the trace amount of foam still on his lips with his thumb, then gently sucked it off while holding
Tweek's gaze. "...cause you made it taste so good."

Tweek's nostrils flared as he slowly inhaled. His eyes lingered on Craig's lips just long enough for
Bebe to notice. Tweek swallowed thickly and put the empty tray under his arm.

"I, uh, gotta get back to...uh, work. So..." He quickly spun around and walked all the way into the
back room, out of sight.

"What the fuck was that?" Bebe asked excitedly. "You're suddenly a sex god or something?"

"What?" Craig replied flatly. "I can flirt, too." He shrugged, dismissing her surprised expression.
"It just happens, like, once a year."

"So you're not denying that you like him now?" Bebe smirked.

That caught Craig by surprise.

"N-no…" he said, although the flush on his face gave away his true feelings. "I don't like
him that way. It's just that he's been trying so hard with that latte art and everything. I figured I'd
throw him a bone, you know?"

"I don't think that's the kind of bone he wants from you," Bebe laughed.

"I'm so glad that you decided to do this with us," Nichole whispered into Clyde's ear.

She had just finished taking off her clothes and was now helping Clyde remove his shirt. She stood
close enough for him to be able to feel her breasts press against him.

"This is something I've wanted to do for such a long time. I know Token has seen you naked, but I
haven't yet. I hope you're as excited as I am."

She giggled softly into his ear and the sound went straight to his cock. He was definitely excited.
She began to unbutton his pants when Clyde felt a strong pair of hands slide along his hips from
behind.
 "Hey babe, let me help you with that. I know you haven't seen him naked yet, but don't hog all the
fun to yourself," Token laughed, low and throaty.

He slipped his fingers underneath the hem of Clyde's pants and nuzzled his face against Clyde's
neck. He quietly growled behind Clyde's ear as he watched Nichole slide down Clyde's pants and
pull out his throbbing cock. The feeling of Nichole's hand around him and the sounds Token was
making caused a moan to escape Clyde's lips. He immediately clapped a hand over his mouth.

"Aww, don't be embarrassed. Those are such delicious noises. I wanna hear more of those from
you," Nichole purred. "Why don't you take a seat?"

Token moved out of the way as Clyde stumbled back onto the edge of the bed. He watched in
hungry anticipation as Token and Nichole both lowered themselves to their knees. They each
pressed against one of Clyde's thighs, spreading his legs apart so they could both get closer to what
they wanted.

Clyde watched as their mouths moved closer to his aching cock. He wanted this. He wanted this so
badly that his body was actually trembling.

Clyde woke with a loud groan and a rush of endorphins. It took him a moment to realize that he had
come in his boxers. His embarrassment was short lived, however, as the dream that caused it was
still so vivid in his mind. He quickly cleaned himself up and returned to bed.

He grabbed his phone from the bedside table and opened up his chat with Token. He was
undoubtedly asleep since it was four in the morning, but Clyde couldn't wait. He had to do this
now. He quickly typed out his message and hit send.

It simply read Yes.

Chapter End Notes

Timeline: September 21-24

 Kenny the Random Slut
Chapter Notes

So...it's been a while. ^^() So much for my "new year's resolution" to focus more on
this story in 2019, huh? Writer's block is a jerk, and it bound me up something fierce
with this fic. Since February, though, I did run Clenny Week on Tumblr (and wrote 4
one-shots for it), participated in two zines (a Creek one that is currently available for
pre-order and a Crenny one that is currently in the formatting stage), and started at a
new nursing facility with a new schedule.

Sorry for the nine month unplanned hiatus. Hopefully you enjoy the new chapter,
which is a bit shorter than usual because I cut the chapter I was working on in half.
The smut scene is longer than I expected, and I was worried that posting a chapter
close to 10k words might be off-putting for some people. Let me know what you
think!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

The moment Clyde's alarm went off, he bolted upright and grabbed his phone. Token was the kind
of guy who got up at the ass crack of dawn, so he must have seen the text already and replied.
Clyde swiped open his phone and immediately the air deflated out of his lungs. There was nothing.
Not even an eggplant or peach emoji. He sighed and tossed the phone back onto his bed. He didn't
want something small like this to ruin his entire day. He shuffled over to the source of the alarm
and gave the off button a sweet karate chop.

He started up his morning routine, hoping it would distract himself from the disappointment. A
couple solid hip-hop verses in the shower was enough to get him psyched up for the day. Once he
was dried off and dressed, he ran downstairs, grabbed everything he needed for school, gave his
dad a big hug, and was out the door.

A few minutes into Clyde's morning commute, his phone went off. Black Thunder was calling.

"It's okay when it's in a three-way/

It's not gay when it's in a three-way…"

Clyde fumbled as he tried to pick up his phone without taking his eyes off the road.

"Why the hell did I pick this song for one of my best friends?" he said while shaking his head and
swiping up to answer the phone.

"Hey Clyde!" chirped Nichole. "Good morning!"

"Hey Nichole, hey Token, good morning right back at ya. I'm guessing Token's the one driving?"

"You'd be right, and he has something he'd like to tell you." Clyde could hear her giggles in the
background as she held the phone up to Token.

"I got your text," he said.

Clyde took a deep breath before he answered. "Oh yeah? Uh...what did you think about it?"

Token laughed. "Well, you didn't say much, but I got your message loud and clear. It made me
really happy, bro."

"Me too!" Nichole called from behind the phone. "Hey baby, I'm just gonna put Clyde on speaker,
okay?"

Clyde waited patiently as he heard the phone getting placed into the fancy car mount that Token
had on the dash.

"That's better. Yeah, I'm so excited about this! I can't wait. We're going to have so much fun
together." Clyde could practically hear heart emojis in her voice.

"You know, I actually had a dream—"

"I've been thinking about all the different positions we could try," Token interrupted. "I've always
wanted to try doing an Eiffel Tower."

"That's pretty hot, I guess, but wh—"

"Baby, no! If I'm gonna get fucked on both ends, I don't want you to guys making a stupid pose the
whole time. I don't want to be a meme!" Nichole whined.

"Okay fine, no pose. One of us could join you in going down on the other. That could be fun," said
Token.

"Wait, I—"

"Why couldn't you both just go down on me, huh?" Nichole laughed. "Then again, I love the idea
of going down on the both of you at the same time. Like I kneel on the floor between the two of
you. That sounds really hot."

Clyde stopped even trying to get a thought into the conversation. He just continued to listen to
Token and Nichole's experienced sexual brainstorming and felt his heart beating hard in his chest.
It was exciting to hear them as they thought up sexy things for the three of them to do together, but
it was also very overwhelming to have it thrown at him so early in the morning.

His mind was so focused on the phone conversation that he stopped paying attention to the road in
front of him. Clyde didn't even realize he had run a red light until he heard car horns blaring. He
had a split second to swerve to the side, narrowly missing a collision with another car.

After he was a safe distance from the intersection, Clyde pulled the car over and caught his breath.
His heart was a sledgehammer in his chest. Token and Nichole were still brainstorming, oblivious
to the situation at hand.

"Hey guys...I think I should let you go now. I'll see you at school, okay?"

"Yeah, okay bro! See ya! Drive safe!"

Clyde huffed out a laugh. Drive safe, indeed. Who knew threesomes could be so dangerous?
Kenny let Karen gush about her art stuff for the entire ride to school. He really didn't feel like
talking. Thankfully, Karen didn't notice and was happy to explain to him this trick she learned for
drawing clothes in full detail. He really didn't want to explain to his younger sister why he was so
distracted—why his reputation was on the line. It was going to be hard enough to get through the
week in one piece as it was, let alone if he had to see the look of disappointment on Karen's face.

Karen spotted Craig as they turned for the school. As soon as the truck was in park, Karen burst
out of the door and ran across the parking lot.

"Hey senpai!" she called out, waving her hands frantically above her head.

Craig stopped in his tracks and stared at his overly enthusiastic friend. "Hey, what did I tell you
about that?" he asked, flatly. "Quit it. It sucks."

"It sucks just as much as you do, so it's a perfect nickname," Kenny quipped as he jogged up
behind Karen.

"Oh. Great. Another lame McCormick. What a wonderful day it is."

"I think you mean another awesome McCormick," said Karen, proudly.

Kenny held out his hands and they high-fived each other. Craig shook his head and sighed. He
sometimes wondered what it would be like to have different friends.

Together, the three of them entered the front of the school building. Once inside, Karen skipped off
ahead of them, leaving Kenny and Craig to continue on their own.

"So, how was your weekend?" asked Kenny.

"It was fine. Except that I wasted my Sunday morning sitting in a coffee shop watching two idiots
stare into outer space."

"I thought you loved outer space!"

Craig gave Kenny the side-eye.

"Okay, bad joke." Kenny sighed and shrugged. "I'm sorry, dude. I didn't think Donovan was going
to be distracted, too, or I would've just suggested we call it off. What the fuck could be making him
distracted? His knee, I guess."

"It's not his knee," said Craig.

Kenny stopped walking. "You know what it is? Dude! You have to tell me! I need dirt on him!"

Craig turned around and crossed his arms. "No."

"Come on! You're supposed to be my second and shit! That means you're on my side!"

"No. I never agreed to anything like that. I agreed to be a part of this dumbass competition by
helping to validate your conquests. You're my friend and I love you, man, but I wouldn't agree to
help sabotage my best friend for you. He confided in me and I am Fort fucking Knox."

Kenny held his hands up in the air. "Okay, okay, damn. I guess it's really fucking important then,
whatever it is." Kenny took a deep breath and rolled his shoulders. "Sorry, dude. I'm just really on
edge."
"I don't blame you. You did go get...you know...this weekend?" asked Craig.

"Did I get tested for sexually transmitted diseases and or infections at the local community health
clinic? Why yes, Craig. I did."

"How did that go?"

"I won't get the results until Thursday, and it fucking sucks to wait. I really don't want Karen
finding out, either. She somehow missed those flyers last week, so I lucked out there. I just don't
know how I'd go about explaining it."

Craig looked over his shoulder when he heard the sound of feet running down the hall behind
them. "Uh...I think you need to figure that out immediately."

Kenny turned around to see Karen running up to him, holding out the latest issue of Super School
News. An unflattering photo of Kenny was plastered on the front with the headline "Random Slut
Kenny McCormick Gives Fellow Student STD". The look on Karen's face made Kenny's heart drop.

"Kenny? What's this all about?" she asked.

Kenny leaned forward, pretending to read the headline more closely, so that he could buy himself
some time to think.

"Hmm...I think someone in the Journalism club thinks they're funny. That's a joke article, if I've
ever seen one. I don't mind being the butt of the joke, though. I'd rather it be me than someone else,
right?"

"I guess…" She paused and looked at the paper once again. "Okay then. Have a good day, Kenny!
You too, senpai!"

She folded the paper, stuck it under her arm, and ran off again towards homeroom.

"I don't think she bought it," said Craig once she was out of earshot.

"I don't know if she did or not, but I do know one thing. I'm going to fucking kill Jimmy Valmer."

Kenny did his best to make it through the first two periods of the day. It felt easier than he
expected, possibly because he had the short-term goal of getting to English and confronting Jimmy.
When the bell finally rang, he sprang up from his desk and did a hard walk to his next class.

Jimmy was already at his desk when Kenny walked through the door. Kenny strode up to him and
threw the paper down onto his desk with a smack. Jimmy flinched at the sound.

"Hey. Valmer. Why the fuck would you put this in the school newspaper?" Kenny asked.

Jimmy sighed and looked up at Kenny. The drummer struck a surprisingly intimidating figure.

"I didn't want it on the front page. I w-w-wanted it in the gossip section in the ba-back, where
it belongs, but the scoop was too damn hot, Kenny."

"If you wanted it there, then why the hell didn't you put it there?! Aren't you the fucking president
of the club?!"

"Yeah, I am. But in my club, everyone gets a vote, and the other members overturned my decision.
It is what it i-i-iiii~...is. The issue has been doing very well, from what I've heard. Readership is up
this week."
Kenny shifted his weight onto his hip and folded his arms. "I'm disappointed in you, Jimmy. I
thought you had journalistic integrity."

Jimmy grit his teeth in frustration. "You think I'm fu-fu-fucking happy about this? I've been
fighting the current for years, but this is how newspapers are going, Ken. This is the era of fake
news—of clickbait-style headlines in print. I wish it wasn't true, but putting something that students
want to hear about on the front cover is going to get more people reading the newspaper, and
hopefully get them to read the other articles, t-too."

Jimmy sighed and leaned back in his chair. "I'm sorry, Ken. I can't say it hurts me as much as it
hurts you, but…know that I am not proud of this."

Their English teacher walked into the room and immediately began to speak, cutting off any further
discussion on the matter.

Later during class, Red sent Kenny a text.

Are you okay?

No.

But I'll manage.

Thursday can't get here fast enough.

Thursday finally arrived, but it hadn't done anything to improve Kenny's anxiety. If anything, it
made it worse. Each class was agony as he waited for his phone to ring. Jazz band was no better.

Kenny sat on the drum throne, his fingers gripping tightly around his drumsticks while Mr.
Bunting had the brass section working on a few measures. He feared that he'd drop them if he
loosened his grip at all; his hands were shaking from the anxious anticipation. Mr. Bunting brought
the focus back to the entire band, counting them into the song of the day.

Kenny's movements were tense and he pushed the tempo of the song too much. Mr. Bunting tried
to pull him back by clapping out the written tempo, but it didn't work. Kenny was in another world,
and only one thing would bring him back to Earth.

Mr. Bunting cut off the band and turned to face Kenny. "What's going on, McCormick?"

"Sorry, Mr. B. I have a lot of my mind today." Kenny rubbed the back of his neck and averted his
glance.

"I get that you guys have a lot of things to worry about at your age, but when you walk in here, I
want you to try to leave your problems at the door so we can have fun and make some music. I
need you to get your head in the game, McCormick. Let's give it one more try before you and
Tweak switch off, okay?"

Kenny nodded. "I got it."

Mr. Bunting told the band to take it from the top and counted them in. Kenny focused all of his
energy at loosening up and playing closer to his usual quality. As the song continued, he felt his
muscles relax and he really did start to feel better. His lips even curled into a small smile.

"Champagne, cocaine, gasoline…"

Kenny recognized his ringtone immediately. He jumped to his feet and dropped his drumstick with
no warning. He stumbled over various instrument cases on his way to his backpack. The song
unraveled quickly as the other students stopped playing to watch the disaster that was Kenny
McCormick. Once he dug his phone out, he disappeared into the hallway without a word.

The jazz band was speechless for a moment. Everyone was staring at the door, waiting for Kenny
to come back.

"What the hell was that all about?" asked Kyle, breaking the silence.

Tweek stood up and replaced Kenny's spot on the drum throne. "Pretty sure that was the clinic
calling with his STD results."

The room filled with "ahh"s, "right"s, and "oh yeah!"s.

Mr. Bunting looked horrified. "Wait, what?!"

Out in the hallway, Kenny answered his phone.

"Hi, yes, this is Kenny McCormick!"

"Hello Kenneth, this is Susan from Park County Community Health Center. I have your test results
for you. Can you confirm your birth date for me, please?"

Kenny groaned and complied. He knew why they had to ask it—HIPPA and all—but he still
thought it was kind of dumb, mainly because they were the ones who specifically called him.

"Okay, thank you, sir. Kenneth, every test you had done came back negative."

"Oh, thank fucking god," he sighed. "...uh...sorry for the language. I've just been really nervous all
week."

"That's understandable, sir. I must encourage you to use protection if you are going to continue to
be sexually active in order to prevent the spread of STDs and STIs."

"Yeah, yeah, got it. Hey, before you go, would I be able to get a copy of those results in print? Uh,
for my personal records."

"Certainly. You can come in any time before five and pick it up."

Kenny ended the call and breathed a sigh of relief. It felt good to know that the accusation of
transmission was definitely false, but Kenny wasn't able to fully relax just yet. There was still one
more thing to fix.

The next day in English, Kenny slapped the test results down onto Jimmy's desk. The bell had rung
to end class, but Jimmy was still getting his bag together. Jimmy turned to look at the paper, then
up at Kenny.
"Congra...congraaaa...congratulations."

Kenny let the sarcasm in Jimmy's voice slide, crouching down to look him in the eyes.

"Look Jimmy, you said that you weren't happy with sensational headlines and gossipy articles.
Here is hard evidence. If you want to make it up to me and have a cover story that will get people
reading, interview me. Let me tell my story. Let me show these results to the entire fucking school
and spread the word that the flyers were a blatant lie and attempt to smear my name."

Jimmy pursed his lips in thought. After a moment, a crooked grin spread across his face.

"When are you free?" he asked.

"The band has tonight off 'cause it's an away game," said Kenny.

"How about we meet at Shakey's at seven, then?"

"Deal."

Away games never felt the same. They were just as important as home games, obviously, but not
having that home field advantage was difficult. A handful of parents and students would carpool to
away games to support the Bulls, but it was barely enough to fill a quarter of the away team
bleachers. The cheerleaders did their best to work those diehard fans into a lather, putting in the
same level of energy that they gave at home. Still, their best was never enough to drown out the
roar of the home team crowds. Cartman's antics as Billy the Bull were as irreverent as always, but
the home crowds didn't appreciate him slapping his ass at them.

This week, the Bulls traveled to Arvada to play against Faith Christian High School. They were a
strong competitor and Park County had to fight for every yard. The teams were tied 14-14 at the
end of the fourth quarter and went into overtime, where Park County managed to win with a field
goal.

"I still say we wouldn't have had to go into overtime if we were playing at home," Stan whined as
the players loaded onto the bus home.

"We wouldn't have had to go into overtime if I was cleared to play," Clyde added.

Stan shrugged at him and picked a seat. Clyde sat next to him and got comfy.

"I can't wait for next week, dude," Clyde continued. "It felt so good to not need the crutches
anymore, but it's gonna feel like I'm nutting when I get cleared to play."

"I admit it will be nice to play with you again. The three amigos will be back together again on the
field."

Coach McKay got on the bus and began to give a post-game speech while the driver turned over
the engine and started the journey home. Once the speech was over, the bus fell quiet as everyone
immediately whipped out their phones.

While Clyde was looking up the latest scores for the other teams in their division, a new text from
Token popped up on his screen.
Hey dude, I have the house to myself this weekend.

Both parents are off at conferences in Los Angeles, so they are faaaar away

Wanna come over tonight and hang with me and Nichole?

Clyde felt his stomach flip. He bit his lip and took a deep breath before he answered.

By "hang" you mean...have a threesome?

That was the implied subtext, yes. ;)

Okay then

Clyde wanted this, he really did. However, with it now a mere two hours away, he felt
overwhelmed with a slew of emotions - excitement, fear, joy - but anxiety and arousal took center
stage.

Did he really think this through? What if they were disappointed afterward? What if he couldn't
perform at all? What if he said something stupid that killed the mood? What if he straight up cried
after he came? This was serious. This was a huge step in his friendship with both Token and
Nichole, and if things didn't go well, it could potentially ruin that friendship. It could even cause
strain in their relationship, and the last thing Clyde wanted was to be responsible for their break-up.

Clyde's body had a different reaction. His heart was beating faster and sending blood straight to his
dick, in spite of his intrusive thoughts. He glanced over at Stan. Thankfully, he still has his nose in
his phone and had no idea that Clyde had a boner. Clyde tried to shift in his seat and discreetly
adjust himself without anyone noticing. He needed to think of something that would turn him off,
at least long enough to survive the trip back to South Park.

He looked over at Stan again. It appeared that he was looking through photos of the marching
band. He was lingering on a close-up of Kyle in his uniform, standing at attention. Clyde smiled.
Stan and Kyle had been best friends even longer than he and Craig. He was happy that Stan was
such a supportive friend.

"Do you miss him?" Clyde asked.

"What?!" Stan jolted in his seat and clutched his phone to his chest.

Clyde smiled. "Do you miss him? Kyle, I mean."

Stan narrowed his eyes. "Why would I miss him?"

"Uh...cause he's your best bro and the band doesn't come to away games? You were looking at his
photo kinda...I dunno...longingly? Like you missed him."

"Oh. Yeah. Definitely. I just really miss my bro." Stan seemed to refuse to make eye contact with
Clyde. "I, uh, miss the entire band, you know? It just doesn't feel the same without them."

Clyde sighed and rubbed his chin. "I hate to say it, but I think you're right."

It had felt weird not having the band at the game. It was even more glaring because Faith Christian
didn't have a marching band of their own. Halftime just felt sort of empty without them wandering
around the field, tooting their horns and banging their drums or whatever it was that they did. Just
because he hated the leader of the drumline didn't mean he had to hate the whole group. Wendy
was pretty cool. Butters was always ready with a hug. He hadn't hung with Heidi or Kyle since
middle school, so he didn't know what they were like now, but he held no grudges against them.

Then there was McCormick. He was the last person Clyde wanted to think about while he was
trying to quell a raging hard-on, yet it felt like everything always came back to him and his stupid
face.

Still, Clyde had to admit that Kenny was good at what he did. Ever since that game where he and
Stan had snuck under the bleachers to watch the band, he had wanted to watch more. It was hard to
not be drawn to the band, especially the drumline. They had some magical power, it seemed, to
make people want to get on their feet, dance, and cheer in the stands. The marching band just made
people feel good. Maybe that's why everyone seemed to like Kenny. Maybe he had a natural ability
to make those around him feel good. Maybe…?

But if that was the case, then why was Clyde seemingly immune to these good vibes he was
supposedly throwing off? Why did they hate each other? Clyde honestly couldn't remember what
had caused their friendship to deteriorate into this mess. They were almost inseparable back in
middle school, but then…

"Heh, now who's the one looking longingly?" said Stan.

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"Dude, you've been staring out into the middle distance for a while and you had this sort
of...wistful look on your face."

"Wistful? What the fuck does that mean?" asked Clyde.

"It's a word Kyle taught me. He said it meant, like, melancholic yearning?"

"Melan-cola-whaa?"

"I dunno, dude. It's some smart person bullshit," Stan laughed. "But whatever. The point is that
now you looked like you were missing someone. So who is it?" Stan grinned, now that he was the
one in the interrogator's chair.

…Kenny?

"Psh, I'm not missing anyone, dude. I think you're deflecting cause you're embarrassed that you
miss your super best friend."

"Hmm. I dunno, dude. But fine, whatever."

Stan easily changed the subject to which Overwatch characters were the best, and the two of them
spent the rest of the ride having a friendly dispute. Talking about various video game characters
who he did not want to sleep with was the perfect remedy to his erection dilemma.

The bus finally arrived back at Park County High after midnight. Clyde grabbed his jacket—the
only thing he had brought with him since he was still on the injured list—and headed to the exit.

Nichole was already waiting by Token's car when he disembarked. She waved him over.

"I already texted this to Token, but I am freaking exhausted. I was really looking forward to
tonight, but are you free tomorrow? Like he said, his parents are gone all weekend, so there's no
rush. We can take as much time as we need."
 Clyde felt relief wash over him. "Yeah, that's fine. I'm pretty tired, too."

"Okay, great!" Nichole came in close and gave Clyde a big hug. She stood on her toes and
whispered into his ear. "Make sure to get a good night's sleep, cause you're going to need all your
energy for tomorrow, big guy." She pulled away and winked at Clyde before running off to greet
Token.

Anxiety and arousal were quickly becoming Clyde's new best friends.

Chapter End Notes

Thanks for reading! Please feel free to kudos/comment and/or come say hi to me on
Tumblr @otherluces!

Timeline: September 24 - 28

Songs: "3-Way (The Golden Rule)" by The Lonely Island

"Don't Threaten Me with a Good Time" by Panic! at the Disco
 Clyde x Token x Nichole
Chapter Notes

So here it is, the chapter that tripped me up for nearly a year. It's not worth a year of
writing, but now I can finally move on with the story. ^^()

This chapter is strictly smut. There is a little character work in it for Clyde in the
middle, but nothing so immense that you'd be missing out if you choose to skip the
nsfw material.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Clyde decided to pick-up a couple pizzas and a two liter of Diet Coke on his way to Token's house.
He was still nervous about all of this, and food helped him relax. Token and Nichole were happy to
have it, too. They spent the afternoon watching movies while perched on Token's bed.

The relaxed atmosphere helped Clyde get out of his head. They were just three friends who
happened to be sharing a bed. Sharing a bed didn't have to all be about sex and threesomes and
exploring your sexuality. Sharing a bed could simply be about hanging out with good people,
eating junk food, and watching stuff explode on TV.

It could be about all that—until the moment Clyde realized that Token and Nichole had started
making out right next to him. He kept his head focused toward the TV, not wanting to draw
attention to himself. He was afraid to look at them. Looking at them made all of this become real.
Plus, if he watched them make out, it would be weird. Like even if they had agreed to sleep with
each other, that didn't involve one creepily watching the other two, right?

Even with his eyes focused on the TV, Clyde could hear everything. The lip smacking, the heavy
breathing and gasps for air, the tiny giggles and moans that Nichole made. Clyde's pants were
starting to get tight and he was still unsure about how that made him feel. He shifted
uncomfortably on the bed.

A few more minutes passed before Clyde had reached his limit. He quietly slid his legs over the
side of the bed and sat on the edge. He was about to stand up when he felt a hand on his shoulder.
He looked behind him, finding Nichole right next to him.

She cupped his cheek with a gentle hand and leaned in for a kiss. Her lips were soft and full. They
felt so good against his own. The kiss was slow, passionate, and Clyde quickly responded to her
touch. His muffled moans against Nichole's mouth made her smile before she ended the kiss.

"Please don't go," she said, stroking his face with the back of her hand. "Unless you're having
second thoughts?"

"No, it's not that! I'm just...I dunno...nervous, I guess. It still feels weird to be in the same room
while you guys are getting down." Clyde laughed, trying to dissolve the uncomfortable knot in his
stomach.

"I get that. I'm sorry, dude," said Token from behind Nichole. "We just sort of started on our own.
I didn't think of how you might feel."
"Nah dude, it's okay, really! I don't even know how a threesome would start. In porn, everyone just
sorta walks into the room already naked and immediately starts boning."

Nichole shook her head and giggled at Clyde's porn logic. "How about this then? May I help you
take off your shirt?"

Clyde felt his cheeks flush. She wasn't even asking him anything particularly raunchy, but
Nichole's sweet smile was just too much. He nodded silently.

Nichole placed her hands on Clyde's hips. Her fingertips lightly grazed his skin as she slipped them
underneath his t-shirt. He held up his arms so that she could lift the shirt up over his head. While
his shirt was going over his head, he felt her lips on one of his nipples. He gasped at the surprise.

"Ooh, sensitive!" she giggled.

She dropped his shirt onto the floor. Her hands quickly moved to his chest.

"I really like that you have a hairy chest," she said. She bit her lip and ran her fingers across the
dark, curly hair that covered his body.

"Really? I've always hated it," said Clyde. "I tried shaving it once, but I got a bad case of razor burn
and it itched like hell when it grew back in."

"No, I think it's beautiful. I guess I like it cause it's kinda rugged. Primal, if you will. I just really
like seeing people in their natural state."

"Come on now, don't spend the entire time being mesmerized by his chest hair," Token laughed.
He pulled his shirt up over his head, tossed it behind him, and moved up behind Nichole. "Hey
man, help me take her shirt off."

"Hey! I can take off my own damn shirt, thank you very much!" she laughed.

She crossed her arms and pulled her shirt up over her head. It was just enough time for Token to
place his hands onto her waist and squeeze, sending her into a fit of giggles.

"Fuck you!" she laughed as she fought to get her arms out of her shirt sleeves while also trying to
protect her midsection from her asshole boyfriend.

"She's ticklish, in case you couldn't tell," Token winked at Clyde.

Nichole finally threw her shirt to the ground in victory. She grabbed Token's hands and moved
them up to cup her breasts. She turned her head to speak directly to him.

"You. Hands where I can see them. And you," she turned back to face Clyde, "come 'ere."

She put her hands on Clyde's shoulders and pulled him close. She kissed him again, but this time it
was much rougher. She didn't tease with her tongue like she had earlier. This time she knew what
she wanted and took charge in order to get it. Her teeth tugged on his lower lip. Her hands moved
up to the back of his neck, one hand continuing upward to rake through his hair. It felt so good that
Clyde let out an involuntary purring sound. He could feel Nichole's lips pull into a smile as she
continued to kiss him.

"Good boy~yeeeEEE!," she shrieked, abruptly pulling away from Clyde's mouth.

Clyde opened his eyes. Nichole had leaned back against Token's chest. Token had pulled down one
of her bra straps and was feasting on the soft, sensitive skin of her neck and shoulder. His fingers
pinched and pulled at her nipples through her bra. Nichole's mouth as agape, soft moans flowing
out of her. She arched her back, pushing her chest against Token's hands, encouraging him to keep
doing what he was doing.

Clyde felt the blood pulse into his cock as he watched. It felt wrong to be witnessing his friends'
foreplay—a forbidden taboo—but that just made it hotter. It was like watching live porn. Better
yet, it was like live porn that he could join at any time.

Clyde let his eyes wander down Nichole's body. She had been kneeling on the bed when she was
kissing him, but when she leaned back against Token, her thighs had spread apart to support
herself. She was also still wearing her skirt. It was a very alluring pose she had ended up in, and he
desperately wanted to take advantage of this potentially once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. He licked
his bottom lip and decided to go for it.

Clyde leaned forward and slid his hands up Nichole's thighs. They felt creamy and smooth under
his fingertips. He pushed his hands further up, slipping under her skirt, and rubbed them against her
inner thighs. He looked up at her to see if there was any response to his touch. His eyes locked with
hers and she smiled.

"By all means keep going, please," she laughed.

Clyde glanced at Token, seemingly looking for his approval.

Token shrugged his shoulders. "Don't look at me, she's the one consenting to it," he muttered into
her neck.

Clyde shifted his position, using one hand to support himself as he leaned in to kiss Nichole once
more. He kept his other hand under her skirt, tracing his fingers along her inner thighs, teasing her
by lightly brushing against her panties every few seconds.

Nichole pushed her hips forward, trying to get more friction against Clyde's fingers. She whined
against his lips.

Clyde quickly gave in to her, rubbing his fingers over her panties. They were warm and he could
already feel her wetness soaking through the cotton. He slipped his fingers underneath and began
to rub slow circles around her clit, all the while watching her face with rapt attention.

Nichole's breathing became heavier, her moans gradually becoming louder as they continued.
Clyde thought she was almost at the point of release, but she suddenly tapped out instead.

"Okay, okay...pause for a moment, I need a breath," Nichole panted. "I think this would be a good
time for us to all get naked. I don't want to be dealing with stuck zippers later when we're super
horny and impatient."

"Hey! That happened one time!" laughed Token.

"So, uh...where do we go from here?" asked Clyde as he stood up to remove his pants.

"Well," said Nichole, unclasping her bra, "the other time we had a friend join us, we each took
turns requesting what we wanted. It worked pretty well. No one felt left out and everyone enjoyed
themselves." Nichole turned to look at Token. "Do you want to go first, baby?"

"Sure," he smiled. "So…I've had a fantasy for a while that I'd like to try out." Token slid off of the
bed and stood up, making quick work of removing his pants.
Clyde's eyes followed him as he walked over to his computer desk and pulled out the chair. He took
a seat and leaned back, legs spread, dick standing tall. He was clearly making himself comfortable
for something.

Clyde bit his lower lip. What could his fantasy be? Did he want to try sex in a chair? Maybe he
wanted a double blowjob?

"I really want to watch you two fuck," said Token.

"Wait, what?" asked Clyde. "Like, by ourselves?"

Token nodded.

"Really? Is that...a thing? Are you sure, man?"

Token cocked an eyebrow at his best friend. "I have a 3.9 GPA and I tend to overanalyze things to
the point of obsession. Trust me. I have thought this through."

"Uh...okay…" Clyde hesitated. "But I don't know if I'll be able to perform with someone
watching!"

Token looked past Clyde. "I don't think you'll have trouble forgetting I'm here," he said with a grin.

Nichole pressed her body against Clyde's back and rubbed her hands on his bare shoulders. She
leaned in to kiss up his neck to the shell of his ear.

"I want you to fuck me, Clyde," she whispered into his ear.

Any concerns of being able to stay hard while his best friend watched immediately melted away.

"Please, say that again," he begged.

She giggled and moved over to his other ear. "Clyde...I want you to fuck me hard until I come all
over your dick."

Nichole shrieked playfully as Clyde turned around and practically pounced on her, pushing her
back onto the bed.

"That can easily be arranged," he said, looking down at her.

"Well then, come and take me, big guy," she grinned.

Clyde pressed his body against hers and picked up from where they had stopped making out
earlier. He ground his cock against her inner thigh so as to avoid potential penetration before the
condom was on.

Nichole kept moving her hips around, like she was trying to get him to grind against her pussy. It
was hot, but also quite frustrating for Clyde. As much as he'd love to go bareback with her, he
knew that it wouldn't be a smart move. It would be ironic if he was the one to get an STD after
starting the rumor about Kenny.

"Hey, Nichole? If you're going to keep doing that, I should really put on a condom first," he said.

"Huh? Doing what?"

"Umm...it's been like we're playing tag and your pussy is 'it'. My dick is trying to stay away, but
your pussy keeps chasing it."

"Oh my god, I'm sorry! I guess I just do that without thinking. Yeah, please, it'd be good to put a
condom on now. I have no plans to fluid bond with anyone but Token."

"Love you, baby!" Token called from his chair.

"Love you, too, baby," Nichole grinned.

Clyde leapt up off the bed and grabbed one of the condoms that had been left on the bedside table.
While he was rolling it on, Nichole crawled over to the edge of the bed and pulled her knees up to
her chest.

"So I think you should be standing while we fuck," she said.

It was said with a matter-of-fact tone, which threw Clyde off guard. He scrunched his brow and
cocked his head to the side.

"I'm afraid that if you have to kneel on the bed for any sustained period of time, it'll be too much
strain on your knee," she clarified.

"Dammit! Stupid knee injury! Taking away everything fun from me. I wanted to bang you from
behind, too…" he whined.

She shook her head at her ridiculous friend. "Hey, relax, it's gonna be okay. We can just do it on
the edge of the bed. Everything will be the same - you'll just be standing instead of kneeling.
Problem solved."

"Nichole, you're a genius! Why didn't I think of that?"

Nichole gently patted Clyde on the cheek. "Be thankful that you're with someone who thinks about
this sort of stuff." She stretched out her legs and rolled over onto her hands and knees. She lowered
her chest to rest on the bed, keeping her ass up high and slowly swaying back and forth in
anticipation. "Ready when you are."

Clyde looked down at his gorgeous friend in front of him. Her hips and ass were curvy and full.
Her hair was loose and free, her natural curls falling off her shoulders. Her skin—Clyde ran his
hands up the back of her thighs and over her hips—her skin was smooth, soft, beautiful.

He held his cock in one hand, leaving the other firmly on her hip. He rubbed himself in between
her lips, coating himself in her natural wetness. Clyde pushed inside, letting his hand move back to
her other hip.

Nichole turned her head to look at Clyde, pushing her hair to one side with her hand. She made eye
contact with him as he slid deeper inside of her. Clyde felt his dick throb.

"Goddamn, you're sexy," he whispered.

Nichole made a relaxed moaning sound in her throat as Clyde began to thrust. She pushed her hips
back into him on the upthrust, causing him to go even deeper. They eventually found a rhythm
together, moving in sync.

Clyde felt a strong urge to touch her, to hold her close to him. He paused while fully inside of her
and leaned forward, wrapping one arm around her waist and the other across her chest. He lifted
her up off of her hands and held her up against his chest.
Nichole placed her hands over Clyde's hands and turned her head to the side. "Move this hand
down here," she said as she tried to guide the arm around her waist down to her thigh. "Yeah, that's
it."

They found their rhythm once again. Clyde buried his face in Nichole's hair, smelling the
remaining hints of her coconut condition. He felt her pull at the hand across her chest. He loosened
his grip and allowed her to move his hand to cup her breast. She placed her hand over his once
more and squeezed.

"I like to have my tits played with, in case it wasn't obvious," she laughed.

"Well, don't mind if I do," Clyde grinned.

He gently kneaded her soft, full breast in his hand. He brushed his thumb over her nipple, receiving
a needy moan in response. He continued to circle his thumb over her nipple, feeling it quickly
harden from his touch.

"Yeah...yeah, just like that," she gasped.

He noticed that one of her hands was firmly grasping the arm around her hips and thigh for
support, and her other hand had slipped down between her legs.

"Are you getting close?" he asked.

"Uh-huh," she panted. "You feel...ahh...so good… Keep doing what you're...ooh right there! Yes!
Harder! Oh god, Clyde!"

Clyde felt Nichole's body tense and release in his arms. He could feel her pussy pulse around his
cock as he rode her through her orgasm. Her fingernails dug into his arm, slowly relaxing as she
came down from her high.

"Help me stand, please," she said. "I want to turn around and kiss you, but I don't want my legs to
give out."

Nichole's knees gave out for a moment while she stood, but she quickly regained her balance. She
slid her arms around Clyde's waist and stood on her tiptoes to kiss him.

"Mm, thank you. That felt really good. My body feels like putty now," she giggled.

Clyde hadn't notice that Token left his chair. He startled when he felt Token's hand on his shoulder.

"Thank you both for humoring me. That was such a turn-on. I love you, baby." He leaned down to
kiss Nichole.

"Love you, too."

"Love you...three?" Clyde added.

Nichole and Token looked at him, bemused.

"I'm sorry. I just wanted to be included, I guess." Clyde shrugged and flashed a sheepish smile.

"Well then, I love you, three, Clyde." Nichole kissed him sweetly on the lips once again.

Clyde then turned to Token. He looked at him in anticipation. Token smiled back. Was he going to
kiss him as well? He didn't want to assume anything. He didn't want to try to make the first move,
only to embarrass himself if Token didn't want to kiss him back. Maybe he was like the guys in
porn who had sex with other men, but never kissed them.

Token noticed the look in Clyde's eyes. "Would you like a kiss from me, too?" he smiled.

"Yeah, actually. I have to know what it's like."

Token stepped closer to Clyde. He stroked Clyde's hair and cradled his head in his hand, pulling
him near. Clyde closed his eyes and leaned in.

Token's lips weren't as soft as Nichole's were, but they were plush, albeit a little dry. His stubble
rubbed against Clyde's skin. It was rough and made the skin around his mouth burn—but it was a
good kind of burn. Token's kiss was very sensual and almost textbook in technique. Clyde felt a
tingle run up his back. Token finally pulled away, leaving Clyde whining and wanting more.

"There's more where that came from," Token grinned, "but first, it's Nichole's turn. What do you
want, baby?"

"So now that you've been able to experience a fantasy of yours, I want to experience mine."
Nichole climbed onto the bed and sat back on her heels. She curled her finger at the both of them.
"Two guys at the same time. Come up here and lie on your back, Clyde. I'm gonna straddle you,
okay?"

Clyde followed her request, glad that she was still keeping his knee in mind. Nichole took control
of her fantasy, holding Clyde's cock steady as she mounted him. She lowered herself so that she
was lying on top of his chest, turning her head to look back at Token.

"Baby, I want you in my ass," she said.

"Okay, coming right up."

Token rolled on a condom and grabbed some silicone lube from the desk drawer. He crawled up
behind Nichole, proceeded to apply the slick liquid to her ass, and slipped his finger inside.

Clyde's eyes widened at how casual they were being about anal sex. "Wait. Are you implying that
you guys have done anal already? No, not that you've just done it, but that you've done it enough
where it's no big deal?"

They both shrugged in response. "We haven't done it that much, to tell you the truth. We really like
it, but we have to be in the right mood. But it's never really been a big deal to us," explained
Nichole.

"It was her idea, the first time," said Token.

"What? A girl bringing up anal first? Jesus Christ, you guys are so much more experienced than I
am, what the fuck?" The fact that Clyde was gaining a lot of new experience right then and there
was lost on him.

Nichole started to roll her hips, slowly fucking herself on Clyde's cock and Token's fingers. She
sighed happily and brushed away a piece of her hair from her face.

"I guess that's the perk of a long-term relationship. When you've been with the same person for a
long time, it's easy to experiment. You feel safe. I've never felt too nervous to tell him what I want,
and vice versa."
"I dated Bebe for a long time, but...I guess we never reached that level."

"Many don't, especially at our age. Honestly, Token and I are the weird ones. We're like seventeen
going on thirty. But if you want that kind of relationship, Clyde, you can have it. You just need to
find someone who is willing to meet you there."

Clyde looked pensive, and a little wistful.

"Oh honey, stay with me now. Don't go off into your head while you're inside of me," she begged,
stroking his face. "I think I'm ready for you, baby," she called back to Token.

Token coated his cock with lube and rubbed the tip against her asshole.

Nichole made a high-pitched squeal and squeezed Clyde's arms as Token pushed inside. She buried
her head into Clyde's chest, muffling her voice. It was adorable to see Nichole unravel like this.
She was normally so calm and put together in public, but here, behind closed doors, she was letting
her true self come out.

Clyde could also feel Token's cock as it slid inside of her. He looked up at him and they made eye
contact as Token bottomed out. It felt weird to be looking into your friend's eyes while his balls
were gently resting on yours, but it was a good kind of weird. It was like they were sharing
something special together, something that was just between them, and it didn't seem awkward at
all.

"H-hey," Clyde managed to chirp out.

"Hey dude," Token chuckled. "How are you feeling?"

"Uh, pretty good. It feels really tight...and uh...I can totally feel your dick rubbing against mine."
Clyde felt his face flush and he couldn't sustain his eye contact with Token any longer. "Uh, how
are you, Nichole?"

"Mmmmm…" she moaned happily. "I'm feeling good. A little unfucked, but good."

"All right, we get the hint," Token laughed.

Token pulled out halfway and slowly thrust back inside. He continued his relaxed pace, watching
Nichole's body for any signals that he should stop.

Clyde couldn't get over how weird it felt with both of them inside of her. Part of it was what he
expected from sex with a woman—warm, wet, and snug—but the extra tightness and bit of friction,
even though I wasn't doing anything, was unexpected. He closed his eyes and focused on the
sensations, almost forgetting where he was.

Nichole noticed Clyde drifting off again. She stroked his face gently until his eyes opened. "Hey,
focus on me, okay? I want you here with me in the moment," she said.

Clyde nodded.

"Kiss me," she said.

Clyde pulled her closer to him, pressing his mouth against hers, feeling her bottom lip fit perfectly
in between his own. He felt her body begin to rock back and forth in time with Token's new faster
pace. She moved up and down Clyde's cock, just a little bit, but it was enough to bring Clyde's hips
to life. The stimulation sent a jolt through his body, causing him to reflectively thrust upward,
craving more.

Clyde's thrusts were sloppy and not in time with Token's, but it worked for Nichole. She moaned
into Clyde's mouth before she broke away from the kiss and threw her head back. She grabbed his
arms with both hands and dug her nails into his skin like she was holding on for dear life. When
she pressed her whole body close to Clyde, face down into his chest, Clyde was able to watch
Token.

Token had an intense look on his face. His hands were firmly on Nichole's hips, his muscles taut as
his dick disappeared inside of her. His jaw was tense, his eyes were slightly wider than usual, his
mind focused solely on the pleasure of his partner. It honestly reminded Clyde of what Token
looked like when he was making an important play in football.

Clyde snorted. Thankfully, Nichole didn't notice in her ecstasy, but Token certainly did. He
glanced at Clyde, locking eyes. Clyde held his breath. Token kept that intensity in his eyes as he
stared at Clyde. Clyde felt his stomach flutter. Token broke after a moment, his face cracking into a
smile and a wink at his best bro before he went back to focusing on Nichole's ass.

Clyde shook his head and looked back at Nichole, trying to get his focus back as well. He picked
up his pace with his own thrusts once again and felt Nichole's grip tighten. He stroked his hands up
and down her back.

"You're incredible, Nichole," he softly whispered into her ear. "You're beautiful, you're smart,
you're talented...and your pussy feels so fucking good."

She lifted her head. "I'm gonna come, so shut up and kiss me," she whispered.

As they kissed, Clyde felt Nichole's body tense up as her climax built, until it finally peaked and
released, her body shuddering on top of him. When she finally came back down, she pulled away
from the kiss and nestled her face in the crook of Clyde's neck. Token leaned down to place kisses
along her back. Clyde felt her shudder again when Token finally pulled out.

He watched Token head into the bathroom to clean up. Nichole continued to lie on him, her body
limp and relaxed. He wrapped his arms around her and closed his eyes. Listening to the sound of
her breathing and feeling the weight of her body, Clyde lost all track of time. He felt like he could
stay like this for the rest of his life and he'd be content.

Token's hand touching his shoulder shook him back to reality.

"Alrighty, time to clean up," he said to Nichole.

She didn't move, but responded with a cross between a whine and a growl that Token was able to
translate.

"Yeah, I know Clyde's really comfy, but you need to clean up so he can have his turn. You know
how shitty it is to have to sleep in the wet spot. Come on, babe."

Token helped Nichole sit up, and that was when Clyde realized that he was still inside of her. She
climbed off of Clyde and, with Token supporting her, stood up to head into the bathroom.

Now cold and alone on the bed, Clyde became hyper aware of the fact that he still hadn't come yet.
How he'd managed to last this long, he had no idea. Maybe it was his nerves keeping him from
finishing. Whatever it was, he was certainly thankful for it.

His mind wandered to thinking about what he wanted for his turn. He knew he definitely wanted to
come. By this point, he was practically aching for release. His gut reaction was to suggest that he
and Token watch some porn and jerk off together. They were both still hard after Nichole had
finished, and it wouldn't take too long. It seemed like a no-brainer.

However, Nichole's words from earlier still rang in his head. The ability to ask for what you want
without fear. That was the benefit of a long-term relationship. Token was his longest friendship,
other than Craig. He shouldn't feel nervous about expressing his desires around one of his best
friends...right?

"Clyde? Clyde, are you okay?"

Clyde hadn't realized that Token and Nichole had returned from the bathroom.

"Dude, we said your name like four times," Token laughed.

"Yeah, sorry. I, uh… I've been thinking a lot about my sexuality the past week or so, and it's made
me feel scared and confused. I've been in my head a lot...and just now I was trying to decide what I
want for my turn. I think I...no, I'm certain of what I want now."

"Alrighty, dude. Let's hear it," said Token.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"I wanna fuck you, bro." Once it was out in the open, the edges of Clyde's mouth began to curl into
a small smile. It felt good to say it out loud.

The smiles on Token and Nichole's faces were even bigger. "I want to fuck you, too, bro. Do you
want to top or bottom?"

"Bottom, definitely." Clyde was taken aback by how quickly he answered. He felt his cheeks heat
up as Token licked his bottom lip.

"Alright then. Let me put on a new condom first. Hey, baby? Can you get him started for me?"

"Sure, baby," said Nichole as she reached for the lube that Token had tossed onto the bed. Turning
back to Clyde, she asked "What position do you want, hon? Doggie style is good for beginners, but
it's up to you."

Clyde bit his lip. "Uh...I was kinda hoping to be on my back. It was really hot to look up at him
when we were both fucking you."

Nichole giggled. "I agree. He gets this intense sort of, I dunno, 'Daddy' look on his face when he's
having sex. It makes me wet just thinking about it."

She lightly pushed on Clyde's chest, guiding him to lie back onto the bed where he had been
earlier. She instructed Clyde to bend his knees as she spread his thighs and pushed them up into the
air. She sat nestled between his legs and poured some of the lube down onto his cock and balls,
letting it drip down between his ass cheeks.

"Ahh!" Clyde cried out. "That's cold! Why did you put so much on?"

Nichole pointed at Clyde. "You'll be thanking me later. Trust me."

Clyde pursed his lips and decided to go along with it. Nichole was the one with the anal
experience, after all. He watched her as her hand disappeared between his legs.
His hips jolted up when he felt her finger trace a line from his balls down to his asshole. She then
started to slowly rub small circles against his hole. It was a nice feeling, but unfamiliar. Even
though he had played with himself the one time, he still wasn't used to anything going near his butt,
let alone a friend's finger.

Nichole noticed that Clyde was already tensing up. She used her free hand to stroke his thigh.

"Just breath, Clyde. In through your nose, and out through your mouth. It'll help you relax. I'm
gonna start to put my finger in, okay?"

Clyde nodded. In through his nose, out through his mouth. He could do this. He focused on the
breathing and Nichole was right—it helped him relax and not clench up when her finger pushed
inside of him. He felt her finger slide in and out with ease a few times, then suddenly her finger
thrust in and he felt a wave of...something good. He wasn't sure what it was, but he knew he
wanted to feel it again.

"What the hell was that?" he asked, propping himself up on his elbows.

Nichole just grinned and did it again. Clyde gasped.

"Yeah! That! What the fuck did you do?"

Nichole giggled. "Oh, my dear boy. That is your prostate, and if you're already enjoying this, just
wait until you have a big cock in there."

She grinned and stuck out her tongue as she continued to thrust her finger into his ass.

"I'm gonna add another finger," she continued. "I think one more after this and you should be able
to take Token."

Nichole continued to work her magic, slowly turning Clyde into a disheveled mess of a man.

"Hey baby, we're ready for you," Nichole said to Token, not taking her eyes off of Clyde.

"I can see that," Token laughed. "I've been admiring your work for the last five minutes or so."

Token climbed onto the bed as Nichole pulled her fingers out of Clyde's ass. Token handed her a
towel, letting her wipe off her hand before she moved aside.

"Nooo…" Clyde whined, his eyes closed. "Come back! That felt so good!"

Nichole lied down next to Clyde while Token moved into position, placing his hands on Clyde's
ankles. Clyde opened his eyes to see his friend towering between his legs, rock hard and ready to
go. A rush of butterflies flew through his stomach. This was it.

"Are you ready?" asked Token.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm ready. Let's do this," said Clyde.

"Love you, bro."

"Love you, too, bro."

Nichole softly rubbed Clyde's chest and reminded him to breath while Token lined his cock up to
Clyde's asshole. Clyde drew in a deep breath, letting it out as Token pushed forward. Clyde's
instinct was to tighten up. Things were meant to come out of there, not go in. He squeezed his eyes
shut and tried to focus on the sound of Nichole's voice whispering in his ear.

After a moment, he realized that Token had stopped. He opened his eyes and met his friend's gaze.

"Are you okay?" asked Token. "I'm about halfway in right now."

"Yeah...yeah, just give me a moment to get used to this feeling," said Clyde.

Token rubbed his hands along Clyde's legs, trying his best to hold back. He so wanted to plunge in
the rest of the way. He loved the feeling of being balls deep, and who better to share it with than
his best bro?

"Okay...okay I think I'm ready for the rest."

Nichole nuzzled her face into Clyde's neck, planting small kisses across his skin. Clyde turned his
head toward her, his mouth meeting hers in a soft kiss.

Token continued to push inside, watching Clyde for any discomfort. Once he was all the way in,
Token wrapped his arms around Clyde's thighs. He tried pulling out a little and pushing back in. No
clenching from Clyde. He tried it again with the same results.

"I'm gonna really go now. Ready?" he asked.

Clyde bit his lower lip, then nodded. Token began to thrust in a slow, but steady pace. It
felt...strange. Not bad—in fact, it felt really good—but still strange. Foreign. Like there wasn't
supposed to be something inside of him, but he also didn't want it to stop. It was highly conflicting.
Clyde pursed his lips and furrowed his brow, wondering if the strange feeling would eventually go
away and just leave that good sensation that he'd felt when Nichole was fingering him.

That's when he felt Nichole's hand gently stroke his hair. Her fingers ran through his thick strands,
her nails lightly scratching his scalp underneath. She placed tiny kisses on his forehead.

"You're tensing up again," she said. "Relax, Clyde. I'm right here beside you."

He turned his head and leaned into her kiss. Her soft lips took his mind off of everything else. His
rigid position began to melt, and he lifted his hand to reach for hers. He became lost in her taste
and touch.

He felt a growing warmth in his groin. It pulsed and spread throughout his body in waves, flooding
him with endorphins. He then realized that Nichole had stopped kissing him.

Clyde opened his eyes and saw Nichole smiling back at him.

"What?" he asked, afraid that he did something wrong.

"You started to grip the sheets. It's feeling pretty good now, right?"

Clyde looked down at Token and realized that each time he thrust, Clyde felt the wave of ecstasy
rush through him. It still felt strange and new, but in the absolute best way possible.

"Y-yeah… Who knew that butt stuff could feel this good?" he said, sounding out of breath.

"A lot of people," she laughed.

"I'm not going to last much longer," Token said, breaking his silence. "Can you help me, baby?"
 "Of course!" said Nichole with a grin.

She reached down and wrapped her fingers around Clyde's aching cock. She began to slowly pump
her hand up and down, twisting her hand around his cock as she did.

Clyde bucked his hips at the added stimulation. "Oh my god, Nichole! You're amazing!" he loudly
moaned.

"I told you that you'd thank me later," she giggled.

Clyde's face contorted as he came close to orgasm. Token changed his grip on Clyde's legs and
increased the speed of his thrusts as he neared his own climax. Clyde's body tightened and his eyes
squeezed shut as he came hard onto his stomach, the remains dripping Nichole's hand. Token came
soon after with one final thrust, digging his fingers into Clyde's legs as he did.

Clyde's head was buzzing in a state of bliss. Nichole kissed him, then sat up to kiss Token. Token
leaned down, his chest lying against Clyde's, and placed a kiss on his lips. He then sat back up and
playfully slapped Clyde's thigh as he pulled out.

"Good game, bro," he said with a laugh.

"Yeah...good...good bro…" mumbled Clyde, still in a daze.

Nichole got up and grabbed a water bottle from Token's mini-fridge. "Here, Clyde, take a sip," she
said as she helped him sit up. They passed around the water bottle until it was empty.

They helped Clyde stand up off the bed and brought him into the bathroom, where they all finished
cleaning up for the night. They lead him back to bed and climbed in, sinking into the soft mattress
and pulling up the warm blankets.

Clyde found himself lying on his back in the middle of the bed. On one side of him, he had one of
his best friends in the entire world, facing him, snuggled up with his arm draped across his waist.
On the other side, he had the sweetest friend in the world, her head nestled against his chest. He
felt such an overwhelming sense of love and connection from them and for them. Tears began to
well up in his eyes. He never wanted this moment to end.

Chapter End Notes

Thanks for reading! Please feel free to kudos/comment and/or come say hi to me on
Tumblr @otherluces!

Timeline: September 29
 Confrontation
Chapter Notes

I wanted to get this finished for the final free day of Clenny Week (@clenny-week on
tumblr) last Sunday, but that didn't happen. Turns out this is the longest chapter I've
written for this story so far. Whew! Hope you enjoy it!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

"Hey! Can I get everyone's attention? I have a very important message to share!"

Wendy stood at the front of the drumline bus, home to the entire drumline and half of the winds. A
second bus was home to the entire color guard and the remaining band members. The color guard
bus was known to be the quiet bus, and the drumline bus was the raucous one. The students on the
bus were loud and laughing as they celebrated their success at the first regional marching band
competition of the season. They had only scored in the low seventies this time around, but they
were still number one in their division, and they could only improve from here.

Wendy realized that the bus was not going to quiet down at all while everyone was still feeling the
high. She whispered something to the bus driver, who chuckled and handed her the coach
microphone.

"Excuse me! May I have your attention please!"

The bus quickly went silent.

"Damn, that was effective," Wendy said, stunned. "Ah, anyway, I don't know if you've all heard,
but there was a brutal attack that occurred tonight. A brutal decimation of every other band in the
division because we are number one, motherfuckers!"

The bus cheered loudly, partly because of the excitement from winning and partly because it was a
rare occasion to hear Wendy swear.

"Now, we can't rest on our laurels, of course. We have a lot of work to do over the next two weeks
to tighten up our sound and clean up our formations, but Mr. Bunting says the base is there for a
legendary championship caliber show. Can I get a 3BD?"

"Bitches better bow down!" they cheered.

Kenny slid down in his seat and propped his feet up onto the back of the seat in front of him. He
was still vibing from the exhilaration of performing in front of a large crowd and in a high pressure
situation. He was hard pressed to think of a better feeling. Okay, so he could think of a better
feeling, but this was the best that he could get without needing to clean up afterward.

Kenny watched Wendy as she handed the microphone back to the bus driver and walked down the
aisle to join Kyle in the seat adjacent to his. Wendy made eye contact with him as she approached.
Kenny grinned and gave her a wink.

"Great job rallying the troops, Sergeant Testaburger."

She rolled her eyes at him. "You don't need to be facetious all the time, Kenny. Hey, Kyle!" She
gracefully took her seat and turned her attention to her seatmate, leaving Kenny bewildered.

"What the actual fuck? I was being serious…" Kenny mumbled under his breath.

He sighed and crossed his arms. He and Wendy had never been particularly close, but they had
always been on friendly terms. That is, they were on friendly terms until this school year. Kenny
wasn't exactly sure what happened to make things different, but since band camp, Wendy had felt a
little cold whenever they spoke. It hadn't bothered him much up until then, but now that he was
genuinely trying to compliment her, the change actually upset him.

Sighing again, he reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out his cell and headphones. Music was
the perfect cure for a bad mood. He sunk further into his seat, closed his eyes, and lost himself in
his happy place.

...

...

"...hey. Hey, K. Wake up, dude."

Kenny cracked open an eye to find out who had the audacity to wake him up from his metal coma.

Tweek grinned at him from deep inside the hood of his sweatshirt. "Hey fucker, come on and let's
go get something to eat."

Kenny sat up and looked out the window. The neon lights of the 24-hour rest stop glowed around
them. He stretched his arms and legs out, cracking his neck as he moved it from side to side. He
silently held out his hands to Tweek and waited.

"Yeah, I'm not helping you up, dude," said Tweek.

Kenny pouted and gave Tweek his strongest puppy dog eyes.

"Ngh, goddammit. Fine!" Tweek reached out and grabbed Kenny's hands, yanking back to help
Kenny stand up. "Lazy fucker," he grumbled.

"Hey man, you're the one who caves so quickly from that look, so don't blame me for using it on
you," Kenny grinned as he skipped off the bus.

The rest stop was already full with the other students. Some were standing in line for various fast
foods, some were sitting at tables and already eating, and the rest were standing around in clumps
scattered around the building.

Kenny joined Tweek in the line for pizza, but didn't intend to order anything. It was an unspoken
custom in their friendship that Tweek would order enough for both him and Kenny whenever the
band stopped for food. They had never discussed it, but it worked for them. It all started while they
were returning from the first band competition that Tweek went on. He had freaked out about all of
the food options at the particular rest stop and as a result, ordered from every restaurant there,
totaling forty dollars in food.

"Fuck! How the fuck am I going to eat all of this fucking food, dude?! Ngh, fuck me!"

"Woah, dude, chill!" said Kenny. "It's not the end of the world."
"Will you help me eat it, K?" Tweek asked. "Come on, if I have to throw away all this food, I think
I'm gonna have a panic attack!"

Kenny chuckled to himself, remembering what Tweek was like when he first moved back to South
Park. The first few months had been difficult as he was transitioning to the new school on top of
starting some new medications. He hadn't changed much since then, but now he was definitely able
to handle everyday stressors like food selection and moderation.

Food finally in hand, they joined a table of drummers and dug in. Kenny leaned back in his chair
and enjoyed the conversation with his friends once he had eaten his fill. It was moments like this
that solidified the band as his found family.

The room suddenly went dark as his eyes were covered by two petite hands.

"Guess who?!"

Kenny smirked. That voice could only belong to one person.

"It's my next satisfied customer," he said in a seductive tone.

Butters dropped his hands and laughed. "No, Ken! It's me! Butters!" He moved from behind Kenny
and took a seat on the table's edge.

"I know. My answer still stands." Kenny wiggled his eyebrows. "You know, you don't have to sit
on the table. You can always have a seat on my lap."

"Don't be silly, Ken!" Butters nervously laughed.

"Why would that be silly?"

"It'd be embarrassing…" he blushed.

Kenny loved Butters' innocence. There was something really sexy about it. He flirted with Butters
just for the fun of it, but someday he really did want to pollinate that adorable flower.

"...besides, after the STD rumor, only a crazy person would be seen sitting on your lap," Butters
finished.

"Thanks," Kenny said flatly.

"Sorry. That was rude of me. My dad always used to say, 'Butters, if you can't say something nice,
don't say anything at all or you're grounded'. I should've known better."

"No, you're right," Kenny sighed. "I'm just still pissed about the whole thing. Sure, I tested
negative and I did an interview with the school paper last night to clear it up, but realistically, this
shit is probably going to follow me for a while."

"I really am sorry that you went through that. Those flyers weren't very nice. Do you know who
put them up?" asked Butters.

"No. But if I ever do find out who was behind them, I'm going to kick their fucking ass."

Butters could sense the tension rising in Kenny's jaw, so he decided to quickly change the subject.

"Hey Ken! You know what else kicks butt? The Blue Devils!"
"Oh yeah, that's right! Shit, I forgot that you spun with them this summer. Damn. Yes, please, talk
to me about that instead. Like I didn't even know you had been interested in auditioning."

"I didn't think I'd get in, and neither did my folks, but my dad said that if I made it, they'd pay the
thirty-five hundred dollars for me to tour. I'm pretty sure he said that as a joke, but I made him eat
his gosh darn words all right!"

"Hey guys," said Mr. Bunting as he approached their table, "start to make your way back to the
buses, okay? We leave in ten minutes, with or without you."

Kenny stood up and nodded to the rest of the table. "Come on, dudes." He turned back to Butters.
"Wanna stowaway on the drumline bus? You could sit next to me...see what happens in the
dark…"

"Oh, Ken!" Butters slapped Kenny's arm and laughed. "I couldn't leave the girls on the color guard
bus. We were in the middle of an intense game of truth or dare!"

"Exhilarating," Kenny said sarcastically under his breath. "Walk with me to the buses then?"

"Sure!"

As Kenny and Butters walked away from the rest stop, Heidi spotted them from outside the bus.
She waved her hand frantically in the air in an attempt to get their attention. When they didn't give
her the response she was looking for, she ran across the parking lot to meet them.

"What's the deal with Heidi?" asked Kenny.

"Your guess is as good as mine," said Butters.

"Guys!" Heidi exclaimed. "You'll never guess what happened!"

They both looked at her like she had three heads.

"You got back together with Eric?" asked Butters.

"No, gross! Why would you even say that?" she said.

"Cause you said I'd never guess it, and that was the first thing I wouldn't expect to have happened."

Heidi shook her head, stunned, then turned her focus to Kenny.

"Look, as I was getting on the bus, I realized that I wasn't the first one there. And what I saw...well
it was downright scandalous!"

"Now Heidi, when a man and a woman love each other very much— oww!" Kenny rubbed his arm
where Heidi had punched it.

"I know what sex is, dumbass," she said with a roll of her eyes. "And no, no one was having sex on
the bus." She scrolled through her phone as she continued. "But give it a few more weeks and
maybe it'll get to that."

She held up her phone for Kenny and Butters to see a photo of Wendy and Kyle getting cozy
together. Kyle was sitting at an angle and leaning against the window with Wendy's head snuggled
against his chest while they talked.

"So?" asked Kenny.

"So? So? Wendy has a boyfriend, Kenny!" said Heidi.

"Uh-huh. I still don't see the problem with two friends getting comfy while they chat."

"You think that's just two friends chatting? I thought you'd understand better than anyone, Kenny."

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked.

"I dunno, Ken," Butters chimed in. "Most friends don't get that comfy with each other. That's the
sorta thing that's just between boyfriends and girlfriends."

"Thank you!" said Heidi. "My point exactly!"

"Fine, I'll agree that it's mildly flirty. But Wendy and Kyle have always been good friends, so it's
harmless. Sure, they've been hanging out a lot more this year… And they've been way more
playful with each other at practice… And the other day I swore I saw them making eyes at each
other…"

Kenny froze. Heidi and Butters raised their eyebrows, waiting for him to finish his thought.

"...But that's just friendly flirting between friends. I do it all the time."

He looked up ahead at Tweek, who had finally made it out of the rest stop alive. "Hey Tweek!
Nice ass, bro!"

Tweek shrieked and spun around searching for who was yelling about his ass. When he saw Kenny
giving him a big thumbs up, he flipped him off and continued toward the bus.

"See? Harmless. Wendy isn't going to cheat on Stan with Kyle. That's ridiculous. You guys just
want drama."

Heidi narrowed her eyes. "We'll see, McCormick. I know these things. I give it two weeks before
we find them making out on the bus, and a month before they're caught under the dirty sex blanket
in the band room."

"You know, I've never actually used that blanket. I should change that. Hey Butters…"

Kenny turned to get one more bit of flirty teasing at Butters, only to watch Butters climbing into
the color guard bus. He turned back to Heidi, but she was already halfway across the parking lot.
He looked around and realized that he was the only band member not on a bus. As the diesel
engines engaged, he sprinted across the parking lot.

Kenny pulled into a space across the street from Tweek Bros and put his truck in park. He
grumbled to himself as he closed the driver's door, not bothering to lock it. No one wanted to steal
his truck. He knew this for a fact. One time he had actually seen a car thief sniff around his truck,
make a face, and then break into the car behind his.

He really didn't want to do this today. He was still tired from last night, and although he loved
going to band competitions, he was cranky that he was out a night's worth of tips because of it. It
wasn't even worth him being here, anyway. It was going to be obvious to everyone that he didn't
score any more points because everyone in the school thought he had an STD. Why have the
meeting this week at all? It's not like Clyde would've been successful.

Kenny crossed the street and entered the coffee shop, waving at Tweek, who gave him a head nod
in return. He saw that Craig and Bebe were already at the table, but there was no sign of Clyde.

"Hey, dudes," he said as he pulled out a chair and joined them. "Where's Donovan? Is he in the
bathroom or something? I wanna get this over with quickly so I can get to work and make up for
yesterday."

"Nope. He's not here yet," said Craig.

Bebe tapped her freshly manicured nails on the table. "I'm gonna try calling him. He's been known
to oversleep sometimes."

"Yeah, I'm not going to wait around to listen to that phone call. I'm gonna go have a smoke with
Tweek," said Kenny. "Hey Tweek!" he yelled as he walked toward the counter.

Tweek couldn't hear over his headphones. Kenny shrugged and grabbed Tweek's arm, dragging
him toward the exit.

"Jesus fucking Christ!" Tweek shrieked, tearing his headphones out of his ears. "The fuck,
Kenny?!"

"Come on, we're going to smoke. I'll let you have one of mine."

"That doesn't make up for the fact that you scared the shit out of me!"

"Maybe, but the nicotine will help you relax, so we're even."

"I hate you, K!"

"Love you, too, babe."

The door closed loudly behind them.

"Damn, who shit in his cereal this morning?" asked Craig.

"Which one, Kenny or Tweek?" Bebe laughed as she pulled up Clyde's number.

"Kenny. He's only been here for a minute and he's already acting like he's on his period."

Bebe glared at Craig as she put the phone to her ear. The more times it rang, the more concerned
she became.

"Clyde, your phone is ringing!"

Clyde's eyes shot open, hurting from the sudden exposure to light. "Huh?"

Nichole was still curled up next to him, sound asleep. Token was standing over him, tapping his
hand on Clyde's chest. Once he saw Clyde was awake, he held out his ringing phone for him to
take. Token was still naked, too. The sight helped clear the cobwebs of sleep from Clyde's mind.
He felt his cheeks grow warm.

"The sound of the Doja Cat means that the boss bitch is calling," Token laughed. "So you must be
in some kind of trouble."

"I wonder why she's calling so early," Clyde asked as he took the phone from Token and unlocked
the screen. "It's only—" His eyes widened when he saw the time on his phone. "Fuck, it's after
eleven!"

He quickly swiped to answer the phone, getting tangled in the blankets as he scrambled out of bed.
"Oh my god, Bebe, I'm so sorry!"

Token dodged a frantic Clyde, then climbed back in bed with Nichole, who'd been woken up by
Clyde's antics.

"Where the fuck are you?" asked Bebe. "We're all here, waiting, and you're a no-show! Remember
that this was all your idea in the first place!"

"I know, I know! I'm sorry, I overslept!"

"Seriously?" she sighed. "Do I need to start coming over your house to wake you on Sundays so this
doesn't happen again?"

"Uh, I'm not at my house right now…"

"What? Where are you? Wait, did you…?"

"I'm at Token's house. Nichole's here, too."

"Oh my god, seriously? Did you score? How do I double check this with such short notice?"

"Do you want me to take a picture of us?" asked Clyde, glancing back at his friends.

"Yeah…"

Clyde wasn't sure what else Bebe was saying, or if she was still even talking. He had already
opened Snapchat and had plopped down onto the bed.

"Hey guys, smile for Bebe!" he said, holding up the phone.

Token wrapped one arm around Nichole's chest for some modesty—no one had consented to any
tit pics—and the other around Clyde, pulling him close. Clyde snapped the picture of the three of
them, covered only by blankets, and sent it to Bebe. When he brought the phone back up to his ear,
Bebe was still talking.

"...I think about it, don't take a pic. For all I know, you just hung out last night."

"Uh...yeah, I already sent it," said Clyde.

There was silence on the other end. Clyde held his breath.

"Are you fucking kidding me?!" Bebe shrieked. "How did this happen? I have so many questions!"

"Let me get dressed and head over. Meet me outside, okay?"

Clyde ended the call and turned to look at Token and Nichole. "Sorry to be leaving so fast. I forgot
that I was supposed to meet Bebe this morning."

"I'm guessing the photo was proof of your alibi?" asked Nichole.

"Yeah. I hope it was okay. Cause she's not a dumbass, so she'll be able to figure out what went
down from that pic," said Clyde.

"Well, we usually don't kiss and tell," she said, rubbing Token's shoulder, "but I know Bebe, and I
know how she can get when she thinks you're hiding something from her. She'd probably have
eventually found out one way or another."

"I'm fine with her knowing if you are, babe," said Token.

Nichole nodded and leaned in to share a kiss with him.

"Thank, guys." Clyde grabbed his stuff and headed to the bedroom door. He paused in the
doorway. "And uh, thanks for everything else, too. These last two weeks have been very eye-
opening for me, so…yeah…"

He rubbed the back of his head and nodded awkwardly before he finally left.

"Hey. Hey, are you even listening to me? Hey dickweed!" Kenny flicked Tweek's ear with his
finger.

"Aagh! That hurt, you fuck!" Tweek screeched.

"It was the only way to get you to stop ogling Tucker and rejoin the conversation.

"It wasn't much of a conversation, so I decided to do something fun, like stare at a hot person."

"What do you mean by that?" asked Kenny.

"Come on, Kenny. You didn't really think there was any back and forth in that 'conversation', did
you? I've just been standing here nodding and grunting while you've been ranting. It can be
entertaining in small doses, but Christ dude, it gets really fucking old when it's all you hear."

"I wasn't ranting," Kenny insisted.

"You seriously believe that?" Tweek stared at Kenny, the muscle around his left eye twitching.
"You were going on yet again about the STD rumor, and I get why it's still on your mind, but I've
heard it all already! And before the rumor started, a lot of our conversations turn into you ranting
about Clyde Donovan. Again, for someone you insist that you hate, you talk about him a lot."

Kenny took a drag from his cigarette and rolled his eyes as he exhaled.

"You've just been so fucking angry lately, and it sucks!" Tweek continued. "When I first moved
back to South Park, I was immediately drawn to you because you were so chill and fun, and you
never asked me about where I was or what I was doing in the years I was gone. But ever since band
camp, you've been getting angrier and angrier. You just seem pissed off most of the time. I love
you, but you kinda suck now. Ever since you started hanging out with Clyde."
"I do not hang out with Donovan," said Kenny through gritted teeth.

"See! Right there! You're getting angry again! And we're literally out here right now because the
three of you are waiting for him. This is the fourth time you guys have met here since school
started. That's fucking hanging out!"

Not five seconds later, Clyde's car came up the road and slid into street parking a few buildings
away.

"Speak of the devil…" said Tweek.

Both Tweek and Kenny were startled by the sound of the coffee shop bell ringing as the door burst
open and Bebe ran out past them on her way over to Clyde.

"That's my cue to go back inside," sighed Kenny.

Craig looked up from his phone when he heard the door open again. "Oh good. I'm no longer the
social reject sitting alone in an empty coffee shop."

Tweek cracked a smile. "I'd keep you company if I didn't have to keep working. I like social
rejects. And I could've given you some of my good tasting foam." He winked at Craig as he
slipped his apron over his neck and tied it in the back.

Craig's mouth hung open like he was about to say a witty comeback, but nothing came out. His
cheeks pinked up and he finally closed his mouth. "Fuck it, I got nothing," he said.

Tweek smirked and held up his index finger. "That's one point for me, cutie." He disappeared into
the back room, giving Craig a moment of reprieve.

"Oh god, you guys just need to fuck and get it over with," said Kenny, plopping back down into his
chair.

"What?!" said Craig, grasping at his chullo strings. "It's not like that. It's just harmless flirting. And
why are you so fucking angry today?"

"You, too? What is it with you guys? I'm not angry."

After a few more minutes, Bebe returned with Clyde following behind. Craig stood up when he
saw his tardy friend.

"It's about damn time! Where were you, dude?" he asked.

"Probably nowhere important," Kenny muttered.

Clyde and Bebe shared a look as they pulled out their chairs and sat down. Kenny rolled his eyes at
the giddy grin on Clyde's face.

"Do you want to tell them, or do you want me to do it?" asked Bebe, looking almost as excited as
Clyde.

"I can do it." Clyde fidgeted in his seat. "So, uh...sorry I'm late. I overslept because I had a big
night last night. I got together with some friends, we had some pizza, watched some movies, and,
uh…"

Clyde tried to keep his eyes up, but it was hard to look at the others without feeling butterflies in
his stomach. He never thought it would be this hard to brag about having a threesome.
"...and then I had a threesome with them."

Clyde felt his face heat up once the words left his mouth.

It was quiet. No one was saying anything. He raised his eyes up briefly to read their faces. Bebe
looked like she was going to burst from all the delicious tea. Craig looked genuinely surprised.
Kenny was stone-faced, staring daggers into Clyde.

Kenny huffed and began to slow clap. "Well congratu-fucking-lations, Donovan. You somehow
managed to convince two naive football fangirls to sleep with you before they could make better
decisions. Bravo. Well-fucking-done."

Bebe leaned forward and slapped both of her hands down on the table. "It wasn't two girls, it was a
girl and a guy!" she blurted out.

Kenny's eyes widened. He looked over at Bebe in disbelief, then back to Clyde for some sort of
confirmation.

Clyde's face burned under Kenny's eyes. He nodded. "It was Token and Nichole."

Kenny started to laugh. He wasn't buying it. "All right, Donovan, nice try. You almost got me
there. Two guys and a girl only counts as one point because you only had sex with Nichole. It's not
fair to give you two goddamn points when all you did was accidentally touch Token's balls and
shout 'no homo' at him when it happened."

"Uh... yeah…I kinda got railed by Token after we double teamed Nichole, so…" Clyde held up
two fingers. "...Two points."

"I call bullshit," said Kenny. "You're straight."

Craig finally spoke up. "I'd normally be on Kenny's side with this, as Clyde was always the
straightest person I knew, but…"

"But?" Kenny turned to look directly at Craig.

"But remember that I said I knew what was distracting Clyde and that it wasn't his knee?"

"Please don't say that he was having some miraculous epiphany about his sexuality."

"I don't know if it was quite that deep. This is Clyde we're talking about..." said Craig.

"Hey!" Clyde interjected.

"...But yeah. He talked to me about it one day at lunch. And it felt genuine. Not everyone knows
their sexuality early on, and not everyone is prepared to accept it immediately. Clyde's slow at a lot
of things,"—"HEY!"—"and discovering his sexuality is apparently another one."

Kenny tightened his jaw. He stared at Craig, then back over at Clyde. Clyde felt a jolt through his
body.

"If you're still skeptical, I can text Nichole for an official confirmation. Clyde only sent me a
picture of them all in bed…"

"Ugh, thanks a lot for that visual," Kenny scoffed.

"...but that doesn't prove that he actually fucked Token. Or Nichole for that matter. He could've
just paid them to take the pic. You know what, I am gonna call her."

Before Clyde could complain that Bebe was hurting more than helping now, she had her phone out
and calling Nichole.

"Hey Bebe! What's up, gorgeous?" Nichole chirped over the speaker.

"Hey girl, not much," Bebe replied. She held up her hand to tell the guys to be quiet. "So I just have
a quick question for-"

"Clyde already told you, didn't he?" Nichole laughed.

"Yes. Yes, he did. You think that I'd let him keep anything that juicy away from me?" said Bebe. "I
hope you enjoyed yourself."

"I enjoyed myself a couple times," giggled Nichole. "And so did Token. Did Clyde mention that?
Watching them fuck was really hot."

Bebe gave Kenny a knowing look.

"You were right that he's fun in bed. Oh, and his cock was exactly like you described it, right down
to the—"

The three pairs of horrified eyes looking at Bebe told her it was time to cut the conversation short.

"Oh, shit! Sorry, Nic, my Dad is knocking at the door. I'll text you later, okay? Bye!" She cleared
her throat, ignoring the fake retching sound that Kenny was making. "I'd say that's pretty solid
evidence, Kenny," she continued.

"Fine. Whatever. I concede," he said, slouching into his chair and crossing his arms.

"Okay, now that that's finally dealt with, did you hook up with anyone this week?" she asked.

"No."

"That settles it then," said Bebe. "Clyde currently has two points, and Kenny still has one. Still
could be anyone's game, though. It's only been a month."

"It's only been a month," whined Craig. "It feels like it's been years."

Tweek finally arrived with a tray full of their usual drinks. "Sorry it took a while, guys," he said as
he began to place down the mugs.

Clyde stared at Kenny from across the table. It felt so good to be on top for once. Since the
beginning, Kenny always seemed to be a step ahead of him, but now the tables were turned. Clyde
couldn't help but want to rub it in, just a little.

"So you really didn't hook-up with anyone last week, McCormick?"

"Yes, really, Donovan. It's impossible to get anyone to fuck me when everyone believes a bullshit
rumor that I have an STD and passed it to someone else."

Clyde picked up his mug of hot chocolate and muttered as he took a sip. "Wow, that worked better
than I thought."

Unfortunately for Clyde, he was a loud person, and even muttering was loud enough for others to
hear. He froze mid-sip as everyone turned toward him. Craig covered his face in embarrassment.
Bebe's mouth hung open in shock. Tweek's mouth twitched.

Kenny's face darkened. "What was that?" he asked. His voice was calm, quiet, and dangerous.

The hairs on the back of Clyde's neck stood up. He put down his mug and swallowed hard. There
was no hiding it now. His own idiocy had fucked him over, and any attempt to feign ignorance
would just make things worse.

He cleared his throat. "I said…'that worked better than I thought'."

Tweek folded the tray under his arm. "Does that mean that you were the one who put up those
flyers? You're the STD rumor mastermind?"

Clyde felt the heat of embarrassment rise in his skin. "Um...yeah...it was me."

Silence.

How would Kenny respond? Clyde was afraid to look at him. He fixed his eyes on a small coffee
stain on the table.

Thwack!

Tweek smacked his serving tray on the table, sending the others' hearts into their throats.

"HA! I fucking told you, Kenny! You said that he was too simple and stupid to do something so
diabolical! You were wrong, and I was fucking right!" Tweek was practically vibrating with
kinetic energy. "Pay up, motherfucker!" He held out his hand to Kenny, who was still staring at
Clyde, unblinking.

Kenny closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He reached into his pant pocket to pull out his
wallet. He fished out his emergency twenty dollar bill, then folded up his wallet and shoved it back
into his pants. He slowly opened his eyes, still fixed on Clyde, and slapped the bill into Tweek's
awaiting palm.

Tweek moved around the table and crouched down next to Craig. "Hey cutie, wanna grab a
sandwich with me after my shift? I recently came into some money," he said with a shit-eating grin.

Craig was stunned. Tweek was asking him a direct question that he was expected to answer...and
he was so close right now...and he could feel his hand resting on the back of his chair. He was so
dumbfounded that all he could utter was "you mean like a date?"

Tweek wasn't able to hear the question. He talked over Craig as he remembered something. "Ah
crap! I have a group meeting later with some people from my history class for this dumbass project
we have to do. I'm gonna keep this twenty somewhere safe and maybe I could take a raincheck for
that sandwich?"

"Yeah. Sure," said Craig.

Kenny abruptly stood up, his chair scraping against the hardwood floor. He didn't say anything. He
just turned and quickly headed to the exit, pulling out his pack of cigarettes and sticking one
between his lips once he was outside. They all watched as he stormed off, lighting up his cigarette
and disappearing down the street.

Clyde's gaze returned to that coffee stain. He could feel their eyes back on him. He had expected to
feel good all day. He had an amazing night with his friends. He was now not only on the
scoreboard, but he was also in the lead. His scheme to fuck up Kenny's seduction ability even
worked! Everything he could have wanted had happened. He should be happy right now.

Tweek stood up. "Well, I'm gonna take that as my cue to leave. I think you guys probably have
some important shit you need to discuss, so..." He turned around and nearly sprinted to the back
room.

"That was a really shitty thing to do, Clyde," Bebe said once Tweek was gone.

Clyde looked up at her. The look on her face made his heart drop.

"I'm disappointed in you, babe. You're better than this."

"I know," he said softly.

"Dude, me too. That really fucked with Kenny's head. I get that you two are at odds, but that was a
low blow."

"Yeah, I can see that now. At the time, I was so frustrated that I wasn't having any luck with the
ladies, and then I fucked up my knee, and Kenny already had a point, and he was being such an
arrogant prick…" Clyde sighed. "I just went on the defense. I did whatever I could to try to
cockblock him."

"We're not saying your reasons don't make sense," said Bebe, "but that doesn't change the fact that
it was shitty and I never would've thought that my sweet, goofy bestie would ever do something
like that."

Bebe stood up, followed by Craig. "Your punishment is that you get to pay for all of our drinks
today. See you tomorrow." They left Clyde alone in the cafe.

He certainly did feel shitty. He felt shitty for incriminating himself. He felt shitty for disappointing
his friends. Still, deep down he felt proud that his plan had actually worked. He sighed. Nothing
else to do now. Might as well go home and drown his thoughts in burritos and videogames.

"The fuck?"

Clyde looked up to see Tweek standing at the counter, the backroom door swinging behind him.

"Where'd everyone go?"

"They're not very happy at me right now, so they ditched me with the bill," said Clyde. "Could I
get a large black coffee with two sugars to go? If I'm paying, I figure I might as well get a coffee
for my dad. Also, maybe it'll make it up to you for me hurting your friend."

Tweek laughed as he started to brew the coffee. "Look dude, I'm not upset at you for fucking over
K. Actually, I'm pretty happy about it. I'm twenty dollars richer, and I'm never gonna let him live
down the fact that I was right about you being smarter than he thinks. I know I don't know you
very well, but I gathered that from everything he's told me about this weird-ass rivalry you two
have."

He poured the hot liquid into a paper cup, popped on the lid, and slid on a cardboard sleeve. He
handed it to Clyde. "That'll be fifteen sixty-two for everything."

Tweek continued as he cashed out the bill. "I don't know what sort of bizarre relationship you guys
have-"

Clyde cringed at the word relationship.

"-but, for what it's worth, starting a rumor about him having and spreading an STD was pretty
fucked up. I don't know if you meant it as a joke or a prank, or whether you were actually trying to
hurt him, but what I do know is that you should probably apologize. If not for your relationship
with him, then for his relationship with me. Cause I'm getting pretty tired of him being pissed the
fuck off all the time."

Tweek laughed once more as he pulled his headphones out of his apron pocket and stuck them in
his ears. Clyde took it as his cue to leave, now that Tweek had a broom in his hand and was in
thrash metal cleaning mode. He exited the coffee shop and headed down the street to where his car
was parked.

Relationship. Heh. There was no "relationship" between Clyde and Kenny. If they could have their
way, they'd never have to interact ever again. Unfortunately for them, Park County High wasn't a
very large school, and it was impossible to completely avoid someone. Graduation honestly
couldn't come soon enough. Then Clyde would go off to college and he'd never have to see
Kenny's ugly mug ever again. That was the dream. First he'd beat Kenny and be crowned the
number one guy in the school, then he'd graduate, then he'd leave South Park in his dust. That was
his plan, as long as there weren't any surprises—

Clyde felt his shoulders jerk back as he lost his balance. He stumbled backward, disoriented—his
dad's coffee falling from his hand and exploding on the ground. Someone was pulling him into the
alley next to Tweek Bros. Oh my god...was he going to die here? He was too young and handsome
to get murdered! It was only a couple seconds before his body was thrown against the brick wall
with a painful thud. His eyes finally focused on the culprit.

Kenny looked up at him, growling. He gripped Clyde's letterman jacket in his hands, pressing his
full weight into Clyde's body and pinning him to the wall. He looked like a predator about to go in
for the kill.

"You! You fucking asshole!" he screamed. "I can't believe that you're the reason for all this
bullshit!"

In spite of his gut telling him to keep his mouth shut, Clyde responded. "Me? I'm the
asshole? I'm the asshole for trying to serve back what you sent my way? Even before we agreed to
this competition, you have humiliated me and insulted me and made me feel like shit, and you act
like you're better than me! I thought that my chance at a college football career was destroyed, and
when it miraculously wasn't, you told me to my face that I was faking it! All I did with those flyers
was try to even the score by making you feel the same kind of humiliation!"

Kenny tightened his grip. "What the fuck is wrong with you Donovan? Do you ever think of
anyone but yourself? I won't deny that I've been shitting on you with a smile on my face, but I
never, NEVER"—Kenny pulled at Kenny's jacket and slammed him back against the wall
—"brought anyone else into our feud. Did you ever stop to think about the consequences of your
actions? I know you don't care that my life was shit for the past two weeks, and honestly, I don't
really care either, but did you ever think that I wasn't the only person you might be harming when
you started that rumor? What about Red? She already gets shit for being open about having sex,
and most of the school knows that we hooked up recently. Did you consider how this would affect
her? Did you think that maybe because she was associated with me, people might start whispering
that she has STDs too?"
 Clyde was speechless. His stomach turned as Kenny ripped into him. "No...I didn't think about
that," he said quietly.

"Yeah! You didn't fucking think!" Kenny continued. "She's clean, by the way, but you didn't have
to hear the worry in her voice as she sat next to me in the health clinic waiting to get fucking
tested. Or what about Karen? She's your friend now, right? Did you not think about how she might
be affected by Super School News calling me a random slut on the front page? What her peers
might say? The bullying she might've endured, simply because she's my little sister?" Kenny's
voice started to crack. "If only you had seen the look of sadness on her face when she…"

Kenny's voice trailed off, his eyes glazing over briefly as his mind wandered. Clyde noticed tears
welling in the corners of his eyes, and another wave of nausea rolled through his body. Kenny
refocused, his eyes back on Clyde, and pulled back his fist. Clyde closed his eyes and braced for
impact.

Thud!

Clyde opened his eyes and saw that Kenny had smashed his fist into the wall right next to Clyde's
head. He held his fist there as he stared at Clyde—growling, teeth bared, eyes glossy.

He abruptly stepped away, releasing his grip. "You're not worth it," he said, averting his gaze. He
turned and walked toward his truck, leaving Clyde alone to catch his breath.

Clyde slid down the wall until he was sitting on the ground once Kenny had driven away. The
nauseous feeling was slowly fading away, but he still felt sick. He never wanted to hurt anyone but
Kenny. He hadn't considered how his actions would affect Karen's relationship with her brother,
and even if he hated Kenny, he didn't hate her. She didn't deserve to get caught up in their feud.

Clyde didn't move from the ground for what felt like hours. He had to fix this somehow. He didn't
want to apologize to Kenny—he wasn't sorry for how it affected him—but he had to come clean to
Karen. He pulled out his phone and opened up a new conversation.

Hey Karen! Are you free to take a walk with me this afternoon?

Chapter End Notes

Timeline: September 30

Thank you for taking the time to read and support this story. If you enjoyed it, please
leave a kudos, and if you feel comfortable doing so, please consider leaving a
comment.

Feel free to say hi on tumblr or twitter: @otherluces.

**Originally I had included lyrics playing for Bebe's ringtone when Clyde wakes up,
so the Doja Cat song Token is referring to is "Boss Bitch" from the Birds of Prey
soundtrack. I can't get enough of it right now. ^^() **
 This Tea is Cold
Chapter Notes

Hi everyone, thank you for being so patient with me and these updates. I do have a
content/trigger warning for the end of this chapter:

CW/TW: Homophobic language, bullying [the scene starts with Clyde waving
goodbye to some of his teammates]

It's not a particularly large scene, but I wanted to put it out there in case anyone wants
to skip it.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Kenny's truck kicked up dust as it skidded to a stop in the beat-up patch of dirt that his family
called a driveway. He'd been rage driving all over town since he left Tweek Bros, but thankfully
the ineptitude of the South Park police department was legendary. Putting the truck in park, he
gripped the steering wheel with both hands and rested his head on top of it.

He sighed. He was still processing everything that he'd learned this morning. It wasn't even noon
and he'd already felt like he wanted to go back to bed and just restart the day. Not only did Clyde
discover his latent bisexuality, but he had already taken advantage of it to score two points in one
evening. That news would be bad enough, but on top of that, he was also the one who had been
behind the rumor that made Kenny and Red's life miserable.

Kenny felt his chest tighten and his pulse quicken. He took a few deep calming breaths—in and out
—and felt much better. He still had time to salvage the day. Once he changed clothes and cleaned
up a bit, he could head to work. He just hoped that he could keep his mind clear of Clyde so that he
could keep his flirty smile intact and rake in the tips.

When he entered the house, Karen was sitting on the couch in her lazy Sunday best, messing
around on her phone.

"Hey, Kenny," she said, glancing up briefly.

"Hey," he replied. "I'm gonna shower and get ready for work."

Kenny thought he sounded calm, but Karen could tell that he was in a mood. She put her phone
down and peered at him over the couch.

"Didn't you just shower last night?" she asked.

"Yeah. I did. I just," he paused and sighed, "feel dirty this morning."

A shower was just what he needed. Thankfully, the water was hot and relaxing, and he took a few
extra minutes to rub one out before turning it off. He was surprised he was even able to get hard
with Clyde lingering in his mind, but he could feel the anger and stress leaving his body as he
came.

He dried off and wrapped the towel around his waist for the walk to his room. He put on his nicest
clothes—the ones he reserved for work—and combed his wet hair before shaking it out into the
messy look that he liked.

Karen was tying up her sneakers when he finally walked back into the living room.

"Why the sneaks?" he asked, patting his pockets to double check for his wallet and keys.

"Clyde texted and asked if I wanted to go on a walk. Figured it would be good for me to go outside
and get some fresh air, you know? Also I haven't hung out with him in like a week."

Kenny felt his jaw tense when Karen said Clyde's name. While she was talking, he clenched his
right fist and punched it into a couch cushion, hoping she wouldn't notice. A sharp, throbbing pain
coursed through his fingers and hand.

"Fuck!" he yelled through his teeth.

So much for Karen not noticing.

"Are you okay?" She immediately turned to look at Kenny and saw that he was guarding his hand.
"Oh my god, Kenny! What did you do to your hand?"

She stood up to go fetch the first aid kit. Kenny waved her off.

"Eh, it got caught in the door at Tweak Bros this morning. It was feeling better, but I just moved it
in a way that really hurt. It's okay, though. I'm fine. Seriously!"

He put on his charming smile to try to deflect his sister's concerns as he escaped out the front door.
Getting into his truck once more, he groaned. Clyde was back on his mind. He'd barely had a ten
minute break. He reached into his tape deck and pulled out a Megadeth cassette. He was really
going to need it to get through tonight.

"It's such a beautiful day out," said Karen. "I love autumn. It's my favorite season."

"I'm a summer guy," said Clyde. "Fall makes me sad because girls start putting on more clothes.
It's a real bummer."

Karen rolled her eyes. "You sound like Kenny."

Clyde cringed.

"I guess I love autumn because I love the art of it," she continued. "All the colors that we get to
see, even if it's for a short period of time. It just makes me want to draw everything."

"Have you been hanging with Craig lately? Cause he says the same thing." Clyde snorted. "Nerds."

Karen playfully pushed on his arm, making him smile.

"So...I asked you out here to talk about something other than the seasons," he said. "There's
something really important I have to tell you."

"You'd better not say you've reconsidered dating me and want to ask me out, because I don't think
my heart could take it." She clutched her chest and made doe eyes in an over-the-top gesture,
hoping he'd realize she was joking.

"Nah, it's nothing like that," Clyde replied. He hesitated for a moment, leaving them walking in
silence before he continued. "It has to do with your brother—"

Karen's face turned to stone. "What about my brother?" she quickly interrupted. It turned out that
Karen was just as protective of Kenny as he was of her.

"—And me," Clyde finished.

He glanced over at her to gage her reaction. Her face had softened some, but her guard was still up.

"What's going on with you two?" she asked quietly.

Clyde rubbed the back of his neck. "So, uh...Kenny and I don't get along very well. We, uh, kinda
sorta hate each other."

Karen giggled. "Trust me, that is not a secret. He hates the fact that we're friends now." She looked
over at Clyde. "I don't get it, though. You guys used to be friends, right?"

"Yeah, I guess. Our two groups of friends hung out together all the time back in fourth grade."

"No, I mean I specifically remember you coming over our house to play with Kenny."

"Maybe. I don't really remember a lot from back then, so…" Clyde's voice trailed off. "Anyway,
that's not important. What's important is that I thought I was going to be on the front cover of the
first issue of the school newspaper this semester."

"You were, though," said Karen.

"No I wasn't. I mean, yes, I was, but your brother was taking up half of the cover! And he was
being such a dick about, it just made me…" Clyde growled and clenched his fists. He quickly
relaxed his hands and took a deep breath. "Okay, long story short, I felt that Kenny was trying to
take away my status as top dog of the school, so I challenged him to a competition of who could,
uh…hook-up with the most people in one semester."

Karen looked somber as she continued to listen.

"And I'm telling you all of this because I need to confess something and apologize to you. I'm the
one who put up those flyers with the STD rumor about Kenny. I did it. I was losing in the
competition, and I thought it could help give me an advantage. I didn't think about the hurt it'd
cause before I did it. I'm so sorry, Karen. I want to make it better."

Karen slowly nodded her head as she processed what Clyde had said. "Okay...does Kenny know
you did it?"

"Yeah. The truth always comes out, you know?" Clyde rubbed his hand on the back of his head,
wincing at the sore spot from where his head hit the brick wall.

"And how hard did he kick your ass?"

"He didn't, to tell you the truth. I definitely thought I was going to get punched in the face, but he
just kinda threw me against a wall and yelled a lot. But yeah, I started the rumor and I'm sorry for
any suffering it may have caused you," said Clyde.
"Okay...okay. Can I ask you one more thing though?"

Clyde nodded.

"Why are you apologizing to me about this? Did Kenny tell you to do this?"

The pink that rose in Clyde's cheek gave Karen the answer she expected.

"He can be such a dummy sometimes. I wasn't upset about the rumor itself, I was worried
about him. I know that he keeps stuff inside a lot and tries to maintain this cool, calm exterior
because he doesn't want to burden the people he loves with his problems. I didn't want it to eat
away at him without being able to talk to someone about it."

Clyde nodded slowly. What Karen was saying made a lot of sense. It explained why everyone
seemed to love Kenny and think that he was just this fun laid-back guy. He projected that image to
the world as a defense, and for whatever reason, he let that guard down around Clyde all the time.
Lucky him.

"Anyway," Karen continued, "apology accepted, Clyde. I'm fine. Like I said, I'm just concerned
about Kenny. I'm glad you told him the truth and apologized."

"I never apologized to him. I'm not sorry for what I did to him. He's a bastard, so I don't care. But
you, you're my friend and I wanted you to hear it from me first."

Karen reached up and smacked Clyde on the back of the head. A quick dull pain pulsed through
his head, as she somehow managed to hit the same exact spot the wall had.

"You're a dummy just like him! You have to apologize! It's the right thing to do!"

Clyde's face scrunched up and he began to grumble under his breath.

"Look, don't apologize to him for his sake, apologize to him for mine." Karen flashed him her best
pout.

"Hmm…" Clyde walked in silence, deep in thought. He felt stuck. What options did he have?

"What if…? What if I made it up to him without actually having to say the words 'I'm sorry' to his
face?" he asked.

Karen raised her eyebrow. "What exactly do you have in mind?"

What a difference a day makes. A couple of Megadeth albums and a dozen cougars making it rain
on him throughout the night was enough to get Kenny's mind back on track. Fuck Clyde
Donovan. Who gives a shit what he or anyone else thinks? Kenny knew who he was and that was
most important. In less than a year, he'd be out of here anyway. Maybe he wouldn't get into his
dream school, but he was almost guaranteed to at least get into CU-Boulder. It might not be that far
away from South Park, but it would be far enough.

Karen noticed the difference in his mood from the moment he woke her up for school. She was
glad that he wasn't so angry anymore, but she now understood where that anger had come from.
She couldn't blame him for being livid over what Clyde had done. Still, she wondered if Kenny
realized how similar he and Clyde were, deep down. Maybe that was part of the reason they hated
each other so much. They saw the things they hated about themselves in the other.

Or maybe they were just idiots who held onto absurd grudges for far too long.

Karen didn't say much on the ride to school. Kenny didn't notice. He was still vibing on his good
mood, drumming on the steering wheel to a song in his head. She was thankful for his
obliviousness. On any other day, he'd wonder what was wrong—she always talked on the way to
school. The truth was that she had an important secret meeting this morning, and she didn't want
Kenny to pick up on it.

She waved to Kenny as they split to go to their respective lockers. Clyde was already waiting there
for her.

"Okay, I brought you a plain t-shirt," he said. "Now you're sure that you can do this? It's okay if
you can't. I can always just use a Sharpie."

"Oh no, Sharpie would look awful! Trust me, I got this. I stay after school anyway so I can go
home with Kenny, and Mrs. Grace keeps the Art room open till four every day, even when the Art
Club isn't meeting."

Clyde opened his mouth, but Karen answered him before he could ask his question.

"And don't worry, it's usually pretty empty on Mondays. No one will see this shirt until you want
them to." She opened her phone and showed Clyde a picture of her design concept. "Is this okay?
We don't have silkscreen supplies, but we have fabric paint I can use."

"That looks fucking awesome! You're so talented, Karen."

Karen beamed. She knew that they were just friends, but when Clyde praised her, she felt the
lingering remnants of her crush.

"So I'll meet you here again tomorrow morning, okay?" Clyde said, handing over the t-shirt.

"It's a date!"

She waved at Clyde as he headed down the hallway.

"What the hell did Donovan want?"

Karen nearly jumped out of her skin. She spun around to find Kenny standing behind her. He
couldn't have been standing there very long, or Clyde would've commented.

"Oh, uh…" She couldn't tell him the full truth because she swore secrecy to Clyde. "...he wanted to
commission me to make a shirt for him. We were negotiating the price. I got him up to fifty."

She held her breath, waiting to see how Kenny would react.

He grabbed her shoulders and pulled her into a tight hug.

"I'm so proud of you! You have the McCormick hustle in your blood. And the fact that you're
making money off of Donovan makes it even better!"

"Why are you on this side of the school, anyway?" Karen asked as she pulled away from the hug.

"I forgot to give you your lunch." He pulled a paper bag out of his backpack and handed it over.
She muttered a thank you as she stuffed it into her own backpack. "I'll be in the Art room after
school instead of hanging in the bleachers, so don't go freaking out because I'm not there, okay?"

Kenny scoffed. "I wouldn't freak out."

Karen shot him a knowing look.

"Alright fine, I would. I'm sorry I can be so protective. I'll meet you by the truck after practice
then, okay?"

Karen agreed and they went off in different directions once again.

Kenny loved that he had concert band first thing every morning. It was a great way to start the day
and it let him get more experience with other percussive instruments. He was in such a good mood
this morning that he had completely forgotten about the issue of Super School News that was
dropping today. That is, until his phone vibrated in his pocket.

Hey Ken your interview won't be out until Wednesday

Sorry

Kenny stopped in his tracks. Was this real, or was Jimmy fucking with him?

Srsly dude? Why the fuck not?

Kenny just wanted the interview out for everyone to see, so that this chapter could finally end.

We did the interview on Friday. SSN prints on Friday.

We couldn't do both

I need to reformat the entire issue tonight and print it tomorrow

I figured you'd rather the issue be postponed then not have it out until next week.

Did I figure correctly?

Yes

But I fucking hate when you're right,

Jimmy

Kenny sighed and threw his head back. He clasped his fingers together and placed his hands on top
of his head. Couldn't something in his life go right for once?

When he turned into the hall that led to the band room, he saw Wendy making out with Stan. He
rolled his eyes as he walked past them into the open doors. Heidi was full of shit. Wendy and Stan
were clearly still going strong. There was a big difference between snuggling with a close friend on
the band bus after a show and publicly making out with your long-term boyfriend. Heidi just
wanted drama for drama's sake, but Kenny was sick and tired of drama.
"You're still sure you want to do this?" asked Karen.

"Yeah. I have to. It's the only way I can think of making it up to your brother."

"You could always try talking to him and just saying you're sorry."

Clyde laughed. "That's cute, Karen. Trust me, this is the only way. It's an eye for an eye. Public
humiliation for public humiliation."

Karen sighed. She wanted to be supportive, but she could do without Clyde's condescending tone.

"Okay then. Here we go."

Kenny and Tweek stood in the lunch line. Kenny never bought anything, but he didn't feel like
sitting alone at the table until his friends had their food, so he tagged along. The conversation was
about this week's Homecoming game and predictions of how many alumni were going to get
completely trashed this year and stumble onto the field during half-time. Kenny and Tweek made a
bet that this year would beat last year's record of ten.

Their ears perked up at the sound of music starting to play in the cafeteria. It was louder than a
ringtone, but still hard to hear over the din of students. They shared a confused look.

"What is that?" asked Kenny.

"Hey hey...Bye! Bye! Bye!"

They noticed all of the students in the main part of the cafeteria turn to look at the exit. Everyone in
the lunch line pushed out to see what the commotion was all about.

Kenny's eyes widened. His sister was holding a bluetooth speaker high above her head as she
walked toward the center of the room. A few feet behind her, Clyde followed. His letterman jacket
was buttoned up tight and his head was held up high.

"What the fuck is going on right now? Did you know about this?" asked Tweek.

"Fuck no! Donovan had better not coerced her into doing this...this...whatever this is!"

Karen stopped at a table in the center of the room. She used one hand to swat away the students
who had claimed the table. They scooted their chairs away from the table, confused, but somehow
entranced by this odd display.

When Clyde reached the table, he leapt up onto it, standing tall and looking out at all of the
eyeballs watching his every move. This was utterly terrifying. He kept his chest pushed out and his
shoulders pulled back to convince everyone that he was confident and not wanting to cry. This was
it. The big moment of truth.

The music swelled into the chorus as he quickly unbuttoned his jacket. He pulled it open with
gusto, revealing a t-shirt that said "Boy Bi" on it in black letters over stripes of magenta, purple,
and royal blue.

"Park County High! My name is Clyde Donovan, and I am bisexual!"

"Might sound crazy, but it ain't no lie, baby bye bye bye," the chorus finished.

Students began to mutter to each other, partially drowning out the music.

"Oh my god. Is this reality? Is this really happening right now?" asked Kenny.

"Hmm. I wonder where he got that shirt. I could use one," mused Tweek.

"Tweek, no." Kenny shook his head.

"And now that I have your attention," Clyde continued loudly, "I need to come clean about
something I did. Something horrible. I'm the one who posted the fliers about Kenny McCormick
giving a student STD. I'm the one who started that awful rumor. It was total bullshit. He didn't give
anyone an STD. I lied, and I'm sorry for misleading everyone."

Tweek looked at Kenny. Kenny's face was tense, like at the shop yesterday, but there was also a
sadness underneath that hadn't been there before.

"You okay, dude?" asked Tweek.

Kenny took a deep breath. He turned to Tweek with a smile. "Yeah, I'm great. On an entirely
unrelated note, wanna eat lunch in the band room?"

Tweek saw through Kenny's smile. He nodded. "Yeah, let's get the fuck out of here. It's already
becoming a zoo."

Tweek swiped a bagel in all the commotion and stuffed it under his shirt. The two of them escaped
the cafeteria as the other student's voices began to completely drown out the music. As he walked
out the door, Kenny looked back over his shoulder. His eyes locked with Clyde's for a brief
moment before the door closed behind him.

"So was it his idea or yours?"

Karen turned to stare out the window, knowing full well that Kenny was giving her frequent quick
glances while driving. She could feel his rarely used, but extremely powerful judgmental stare on
her back.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"You damn well know what I mean."

"Does it really matter whose idea it was?"

"Yes," said Kenny. "Because if it was your idea, then they were just empty words. If it was his
idea...I might believe that he was actually being sincere."

"My idea was for him to just apologize to you like a normal person. His idea was to make you guys
even. 'An eye for an eye', he said. He felt that by making a big scene and admitting to half the
school what he did, it would clear your name and publicly humiliate himself at the same time."

"I see."
"He originally asked me to walk behind him ringing a bell and yelling out 'shame!', but I told him
that was a bit much, so he asked me to carry the speaker instead. He dubbed me DJ Smallfry."

Kenny snorted in spite of himself. "I'm so calling you that now."

Karen rolled her eyes. She looked back out the window, watching the trees whiz by. She wondered
if she should tell Kenny that Clyde had told her about the bet. When he'd told her, she knew
immediately that Kenny would have assumed that he had an advantage because he was pan and
Clyde was straight. Clyde realizing that he was bi must have irked Kenny. His recent anger made
so much more sense now.

"Football Star Clyde Donovan Comes Out as Bisexual!"

A look of abject horror spread across Kenny's face as he stared at the headline. He froze and barely
moved for an entire minute, making Craig worried.

"Hey dude, you okay?"

Kenny blinked. "Craig. Craig, what the fuck am I looking at right now?"

"Uh...you're looking at my dumbass best friend standing on a lunch table wearing a surprisingly
fabulous shirt."

"Why? Why Craig? Why is Donovan on the front page? Where is my goddamn interview?"

Kenny stared straight ahead at the newest issue of Super School News—his eyes unblinking. Craig
found it creepy, so he busied himself with flipping through the issue, hoping to find the interview.

"Yeah, okay, so I don't know why it's not on the front page, but your interview is here on page six.
It looks good, though."

Kenny closed his eyes and took a slow deep breath. "It doesn't do me any good if it's not on the
front page because not enough people actually read the damn school newspaper."

Kenny grabbed a copy of the paper and crumbled it in his fist as he stormed off—to where, Craig
knew not. Craig stuffed his own copy into his backpack and headed for his locker. How he longed
for the boring days of junior year.

Jimmy was expecting Kenny. He heard Kenny's boots stomping across the room at the beginning
of English and didn't bother to look up. Kenny held up the crumpled paper and was about to slap it
down on the desk when Jimmy spoke up.

"Yeah, I kn-know," he said.

"What the fuck, Jimmy? Seriously. What. The. Fuck?"

Jimmy slowly looked up at Kenny. Kenny's anger quickly melted away when he saw how tired
Jimmy looked.

"Ken...I've been up all ni-night trying to get this issue out. I'm sorry that something n-new
happened that caught people's attention, I really am. The interview is in the issue like I promised,
but...that rumor is old n-n-news, dude. No one cares anymore. This tea is cold now that there's a
new fresh pot. It's like American politics—people f-forget what bullshit happened last week as long
as there's some new bullshit to fo-focus on this week."

Jimmy yawned and smacked his face with his hand. "F-f-fuck, I need another Redbull. Heart p-
palpi-palpit-t-tations be damned."

Kenny muttered a barely intelligible 'okay sorry' before slinking off to his desk. He was miffed that
Clyde screwed up his plans yet again...but he also started thinking about how maybe Clyde's
dumbassery helped. Jimmy was right—no one was talking about the STD rumor. All Kenny had
heard in the halls so far today was 'did you hear that Clyde's bi?' and several vague biphobic or
homophobic comments. Kenny hadn't gotten any disgusted looks from anyone, and the same
people who were calling him out last week were now seeking his opinion on Donovan coming out.
It seems that Clyde's plan to make Kenny and him even worked out.

Kenny felt reluctantly appreciative of Clyde—and he hated it.

This wasn't how it was supposed to go. Clyde could feel the eyes focused on him as he walked
through the halls all day, and it was obvious when people would quickly look away as soon as he
made eye contact with them. That would have been fine if the murmuring under their breath had
been about how he got the whole school involved in a fictional scandal, but that is not what the
students were talking about.

"Did you hear? He got up in front of the whole cafeteria and said he was bi."

"Bro, do you think he's been staring at our asses in the shower after gym this whole time?"

"I could never date a bisexual guy. I don't think it's even a real thing. You know in a month he'll
finally just come out as gay."

His plan had been to get the entire school's attention on him instead of Kenny, but not like this.
Apparently the appetizer had been so delicious that no one bothered with the main course. He
could just picture Kenny's face, pissed off and ripping into him for 'being so full of himself that he
had to make his new-found sexuality the talk of the school'. That's certainly what it looked like if
the latest edition of Super School News was any indicator.

His friends weren't making things much better either. Half the football team was on top of him as
soon as the whistle was blown for break.

"Dude, have you, like, actually been with a guy?"

"Yeah, what's it like? Having a dick in your ass hurts, right? I bet it hurts."
"You might be bisexual, but I'm trisexual cause I'll try anything once!"

Clyde wasn't sure where to begin with answering these asinine questions. Every time he tried to
open his mouth, another player interrupted with a new question. Thankfully, the team student
manager pushed through to save him.

"'Ey! Get outta here, you guys!" ordered Cartman. "Go drink some water and stretch. Let the man
breathe!"

"Thanks, Cartman," said Clyde.

"Of course. I have to protect the team's assets, after all. You coming out was a genius publicity
move. Diversity in sexual orientation is really hot right now. I have a couple irons in the fire,
interviews and sponsorships and shit. I hope you're ready to come out a dozen more times!"

Clyde's face fell as Cartman spoke. "Yeah, no. I don't want to do any of that."

"Okay, well I tried to be diplomatic, but you don't actually have a choice in the matter," said
Cartman. "I own you and this team, so you have to do as I say."

Token and Stan walked over to join the conversation.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Cartman, you don't own the team," said Token. "You're just the student
manager. And lay off of Clyde, dude. He exposed a piece of himself yesterday, and that can take a
lot out of a person. You don't want to stress him out before his first game back from injury, do
you?"

"Oh my god. I didn't think of that. I gotta go."

Cartman scuttled off to annoy some of the underclassmen instead.

Token slowly shook his head. "You ever wonder how someone like him even exists?"

"I'm not even sure how I exist right now. I didn't expect the reaction to be...this," said Clyde.

"Well, if it's worth anything, I'm proud of you. You're much braver than I could ever be." Clyde
noticed how sad Token's eyes looked, and immediately knew what he had meant. "What about you,
Stan? You're being awfully quiet over there."

Stan stared at the empty plastic cup in his hand, deep in thought. "I dunno. I guess… I guess I
didn't realize that was a thing. Liking both guys and girls. Like that that was an option for guys. I
knew girls could like both and it wouldn't be weird. But like...who knew it was okay for a guy to be
bi…?"

Clyde sighed. "Me being bi wasn't even supposed to matter. I just wanted everyone to know I
started the rumor about Kenny."

"What rumor?" asked Cartman, returning to the conversation.

"The one from the other week. About him giving an STD to another student?"

Token and Cartman looked at each other, confused.

"I'm drawing a blank here, friend," said Cartman. "Are you sure you didn't dream about it?"

Clyde stared in disbelief. Was he going crazy? Was Cartman just fucking with him? Was everyone
so fickle that any new juicy piece of gossip erased the previous one from memory? What about
Token? He had to remember!

"You know, that does sound familiar," said Token. "But dude, that happened so long ago, I barely
remember."

"It was two weeks ago…" Clyde muttered.

He rubbed the back of his neck and turned to look over his shoulder at the band practice field.
Maybe it was a blessing in disguise that no one seemed to remember the rumor in the first place.
He just hoped that Kenny noticed and that they were once again on an even playing field.

"Hey! Earth to K!"

Kenny quickly looked forward. He was almost surprised to see Tweek standing in front of him,
snapping his fingers. He had felt a burning in his ears and had looked over at the football field to
see Clyde gawking at him just moments earlier.

"These shoulders aren't going to massage themselves, dude," Tweek laughed as he turned back
around.

Right. Mr. Bunting had called for a break, and everyone had decided to do an impromptu massage
train. Kenny quickly glanced around the practice field at the other sections. His eyes stopped on
the trumpets, where he noticed that Wendy had joined in the section's massage train and was
currently getting a little handsy with Kyle. It wasn't sexual per se, but generally speaking, band
massages stayed at the shoulders only. Wendy was working out some knots in Kyle's lower back,
much to his enjoyment if his face was an indicator. Still, the massage was not indicative of
romantic feelings. Friends totally give friends deep tissue massages all the time.

While Kenny was locking up the drum shed after practice, he felt a presence behind him.

"You saw it too, didn't you?"

Kenny turned around to find Heidi, looking back and forth like she was afraid she'd get caught.

"Saw what?" he asked.

"I saw you watching Wendy and Kyle during the massage train! You can't tell me that's not
suspicious!"

They walked together toward their cars as they continued.

"What was suspicious about it? They weren't grinding on each other. They weren't making out.
They weren't groping one another. It was just a massage."

"That was awfully intimate for a band massage," said Heidi.

"Intimate can apply to friendships. It doesn't necessarily mean romantic or sexual vibes. I have an
intimate friendship with Tweek. You have an intimate friendship with Sally. Wendy has an
intimate friendship with Kyle. It's fine."
They finally reached Kenny's truck. Heidi pulled out her phone while he got in and turned over the
engine.

"Someone should really let Stan know about this, Kenny."

Kenny leaned out his truck window. "Just leave it alone, Heidi. It's none of our business."

As Kenny drove away, Heidi was left alone with her phone. She pulled up the picture of Kyle and
Wendy on the bus. She bit her lip as her finger hovered over the send button.

The annual Park County High School Homecoming parade was a big deal. It had no right to be, but
it was. Most of the adults living in the area had gone to Park County High, and they used
homecoming as an opportunity to get together, get shitfaced, and reminisce about "the good ol'
times".

It was a short parade, only going for about a mile up main street until they reached the school. It
consisted of the marching band leading the way—playing the school fight song on repeat, the
cheerleaders following behind, and then a couple trucks pulling floats covered in green and silver
streamers. On top of the floats, the four dozen football players who made up the Bulls crowded
together. The drunken adults whooped and hollered at the students as they passed by, and then
followed them through the streets like they were rats following the Pied Piper.

Stan had put it best last year when he said, "Look, if it's the only way that our parents don't end up
dead in a ditch somewhere, I guess it's cool that they follow us."

When the parade finally reached the school, a stack of wooden pallets greeted them in the center of
the football field. It stood about fifteen feet tall and looked fairly impressive as it was, but it was
going to look even more impressive once it was set on fire.

A small platform was set up on the sideline at the fifty yard marker. The football team swarmed
the stage, followed by the cheerleaders, and the marching band took the outer circle. Mr. McKay
climbed up onto the stage first to give a speech on the importance of Homecoming, the importance
of school pride, and the importance of kicking Platte Valley's ass the following night. It fired up
the students, but it whipped up the inebriated alumni into a foaming lather. The marching band then
played the fight song once more, and afterward, the cheerleaders led everyone in a cheer they
wrote especially for Homecoming. Finally, before the bonfire was to be lit, the three senior co-
captains jumped up onto the stage to lead their own cheers.

Stan and Token's went without a hitch, but then it was Clyde's turn. He was to call out the letters to
spell Park County, and the crowd was to repeat them back. It should have been one of the easiest
things Clyde ever had to do in his life. However, like everything that had happened this week, it
didn't go as he'd planned.

"Gimme a C!"

"C!"

"Gimme an O!"

"O!"
"Gimme a W!"

The crowd murmured with confusion and sputtered laughter for a moment while Clyde stared
wide-eyed and horrified. Then, a single rim shot rang out.

The crowd burst into laughter while turning toward the source of the sound. Kenny held up his
drum sticks and shrugged with a big grin on his face. His eyes were focused on Clyde's reaction.
Clyde stared right back at him. His mouth was smiling like he was in on the joke, but his eyes were
full of venom. Kenny felt satisfied.

"Sorry everyone!" Clyde laughed, trying to get the crowd back on his side. "The team doesn't use
me for my brains, right?"

The crowd responded well, and Clyde tried again—this time successfully spelling County. When
he was finished, he took a bow to applause and laughter. To end the evening, Mr. McKay invited
everyone to stay for the bonfire, but encouraged the students to keep the alumni at least thirty feet
away from the fire, lest they have a repeat of last year's tragic deaths.

Clyde waved goodbye to some of his fellow players who were going out for food. As much as he
badly wanted a chili cheese dog and waffle fries, he knew that he really needed to get home and get
to bed. Tomorrow was his first game since the injury, and he wanted to be well-rested. He also
wanted to get up a little earlier than normal to begin stretching and warming-up his knee.

As he approached E Honda and took his keys out of his jacket pocket, an unfamiliar car pulled up
behind him. Two guys in Platte Valley Broncos jackets emerged while a second car pulled up on
the right, essentially boxing him in.

His heart began to race.

"Hey, Donovan!" the first guy yelled out. "Heard about your knee, bro. You'd better take care of it
tomorrow night. Wouldn't want someone to take it out again."

"Nah bro, you wouldn't have to kick his ass to take out his knee. Word gets around fast. I hear you
like dick, Donovan. Well lucky for you, I got a big dick over here you can suck right now." The
second guy cupped his groin and lifted as he spoke.

"Yeah, just make sure you don't fuck up your knee again while you're dropping down on it!" said a
third.

"Wait, is that you, Smith?" Clyde squinted his eyes, trying to figure out who the other players
were. "Sorry, you're just so pale and pasty that I wasn't sure if it was you or a ghost."

"Oh, you got jokes, Donovan? You won't be joking when you go down tomorrow. First, when I go
for your knee on the field, and then later when you're choking on my cock like the little queer bitch
that you are."

The Platte Valley players were now only a couple of feet away. Clyde's heart was racing. He kept
his chest out and shoulders back, trying to look brave, but he could feel the familiar warm tingle
around his eyes as he tried to hold back tears.
"HEY!"

Clyde watched as the visiting players all turned to see who was interrupting them. Clyde didn't dare
turn to look. He wanted to make sure his eyes were on his would-be attackers at all times.

"You guys have a problem here?"

Clyde recognized Kenny's voice. He quickly glanced to his side and saw Kenny standing next to
him, arms crossed. Clyde knew from personal experience how intimidating he could be, despite
being several inches shorter than the jocks around him.

"Who the fuck are you, blondey?" asked the first player.

"I'm the guy who's going to shove my drumsticks up your ass if you don't get back in your shitty
cars and leave immediately. "

The players shared a look and nodded.

"You're lucky your boyfriend showed up, Donovan. You won't be so lucky tomorrow night."

"Let's get outta here. I don't wanna see two dudes making out."

Their car doors slammed shut and they sped away, peeling out of the parking lot.

Clyde closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He hadn't realized that he had been breathing so
shallowly this whole time.

"You okay?" asked Kenny.

Clyde opened his eyes, but kept them down. He didn't want Kenny to see the tears welling up.
"Why did you save me?"

Kenny dropped his arms and shoved his hands into his pockets. "Because homophobic, biphobic
douchebags like them piss me the fuck off. Like, piss me off more than you."

"Thank you," muttered Clyde. "But also fuck you for embarrassing me tonight." He sniffled and
looked up at Kenny. "You don't think I felt stupid enough? I know how everyone already sees me
as the dumb jock stereotype. I get nervous in front of a crowd and fuck up once, and you have the
audacity to make that mistake even more humiliating?"

"Wow, audacity is a big word for you, I'm so proud."

Clyde shot Kenny a look that could kill. Kenny held up his hands.

"Besides," Kenny continued, "according to my sister, you have a humiliation kink or something, so
I thought you would've loved it."

"What?! No! Why would she say something like that?!" Clyde's rosy cheeks glowed under the
parking lot lights.

"Dude, I'm just fucking with you. All she told me was that your little public humiliation stunt the
other day was all your idea. That you were trying to get the negative attention off of me and on to
you."

Clyde sighed and rubbed his jacket sleeve across his eyes. "Yeah…. sorry it didn't turn out the way
I had intended. My sexuality was not supposed to be the highlight."
 "Well...no one seems to remember there was ever a rumor about me in the first place, so I guess it
worked out. So...thank you for that."

Clyde shifted his weight from side to side. He subconsciously started to pick at his left thumbnail.

"Yeah...uh...so I've been thinking about the rumor a lot the past few days and...and I'm sorry for all
of it. Instead of stepping up my game, I tried to tear down yours. I'm no better than Smith back
there threatening to fuck up my knee again."

"Nah, 's okay. You suck, but you don't suck nearly as much as that jackass."

Clyde cracked a smile, and, in spite of everything that had happened that night, laughed. Kenny
couldn't help but laugh alongside him. A temporary ceasefire in the chilly October night air.

"You know...to be honest, I probably would've done something similar if I'd been in your position,"
Kenny continued once they'd caught their breath. "But you fucked up here, cause now I know not
to take you so lightly. You might be in the lead now, Donovan, but watch your back cause—"

Clyde's ringtone interrupted Kenny. Clyde pulled it out of his jacket pocket.

"It's Stan," said Clyde. He swiped and answered the call. "Woah, woah, slow down, Stan! What's
going on?"

Clyde's eyes widened. He locked eyes with Kenny as he pulled his phone down against his chest.

"Stan just broke up with Wendy."

Chapter End Notes

Timeline: September 30 - October 4

Song: "Bye Bye Bye" - N*Sync

Thank you for reading! If you enjoy the fic, please consider taking the time to let me
know, either with a kudos, a comment, or a message on my tumblr or twitter (both
@otherluces). I appreciate the support and I appreciate everyone's patience with me!
 He Said, She Said
Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

"I'm sorry, what was that? It sounded like you just said Stan broke up with Wendy."

"Yeah dude, that's what I said," said Clyde. "Hang on a sec, I can hear him still talking."

Clyde pressed the speaker icon and held the phone out between him and Kenny.

"...ball and chain," Stan rambled as his voice came through loud enough for both guys to hear. "I
mean shit, dude, I've wasted how many years on her? Now I'm single and free and I can finally live
my best life, or whatever it is divorced middle aged white chicks say."

"Yeah. Yeah I get that, bro," said Clyde. "This just seems kinda sudden. Like, did you decide to do
this on a whim or…?"

"Nah, dude. I've been thinking about doing this since the first week of school. It's been a long time
coming. She was cheating on me, the stupid bitch."

"What? No way! Not Wendy!" said Clyde.

Kenny's eyes narrowed. "Ask him with who," he whispered.

"Who do you think she cheated with?"

"Kyle, dude," said Stan.

"Dammit, Heidi…" Kenny whispered through clenched teeth. Clyde raised an eyebrow.

"Are you sure? That doesn't really seem like something they'd do," said Clyde.

"I'm sure, dude. I have proof."

Clyde noticed Kenny's concerned look and decided to quickly end the call. "Okay Stan, I gotta let
you go now. I gotta get to sleep so I'm well rested for the game."

"Oh yeah. Right. I'll see you tomorrow, buddy. Night," said Stan before the line went quiet.

Clyde pushed his phone back into his jacket pocket. "Okay, can you tell me what the fuck is going
on?"

Kenny sighed. "I...I don't really know. All I know is that Heidi Turner took a photo of Wendy and
Kyle snuggling on the band bus because she thought that it was proof that Wendy was cheating on
Stan. I told her it wasn't proof and to keep out of it, but it looks like she didn't listen."

"Snuggling? Does that happen a lot on band trips?"

"I mean, not really? But yeah kinda?" said Kenny. Clyde looked more confused than before.
"We're really close knit, so sometimes when people are tired, they'll sort of lean on each other and
take naps, but it's not, like, romantic or anything."

"Well, would Stan know that?"

Kenny pursed his lips as he tried to come up with an answer to Clyde's question. "I guess not...but
regardless, just cause they snuggled up on the bus doesn't equal cheating…"

"Now that I think about it, Stan did mention at his party that Wendy had ditched him to go to the
band party instead…"

Kenny and Clyde stood in the empty parking lot, unspeaking and lost in their own thoughts, trying
to process everything they'd just learned.

Beep beep!

They looked up to see a police cruiser slowly pull up near them.

"Alright you guys, move along, there's nothing to see here," said Officer Barbrady, leaning out of
the car window.

They both nodded and waved at Barbrady as he rolled up the window and drove off once again.

Clyde looked back to Kenny and shrugged. "Anyway...thanks again." He unlocked his car door and
opened it.

Kenny fished his keys out of his pocket and started to walk away, before turning back around.

"Oh hey, one more thing," he said, causing Clyde to look up. "You'd better make sure that you and
the other Bulls kick Platte Valley's ass tomorrow night. I'll take back my acceptance of your
apology if you let those douchebags win." He gave Clyde a small smile.

Clyde chuckled. "Got it."

Friday morning, Kenny walked down the hall to the band room with purpose. He had to talk to
Heidi. As he moved through the school, he could hear the student's gossiping about Stan and
Wendy's break-up. It didn't seem like anyone was talking about Clyde being bisexual anymore.
They had all moved on to the new scandal.

When he reached the band room, he saw that Heidi was already deep in conversation with the other
clarinets. He knew that he would never be able to cut into that level of girl talk simply by
approaching them, so he used the only surefire way to get Heidi's attention.

Bling bling!

Heidi pulled her phone out and unlocked it in one smooth motion.

Kenny: We need to talk. Now.

She looked over at Kenny, confused, but once she saw how serious he looked, she quickly excused
herself and followed him out into the hallway.

"What did you do?" asked Kenny once they were outside the room.

Heidi panicked. "What? What do you mean what did I do? I don't know what you're talking about!"
"Stan broke up with Wendy last night, and I know you had something to do with it," said Kenny.
He crossed his arms and clenched his jaw.

"What?!" she shrieked.

"Yeah. And when asked why he suddenly dumped her, he said she was cheating. With Kyle. And
he said he had proof."

Heidi's eyes became saucers. "Oh my god! Oh no! No no, I promise I didn't do anything!"

Kenny's nostrils flared. "Somehow, I don't believe you."

"I'll admit that I thought about sending the photo to Stan, even after we talked the other night. I had
my thumb over the send icon for like, ten minutes, but I finally decided that you were right! Look!
I can even show you the chat log I have with Stan!"

She held out her phone in a desperate plea. Kenny stepped forward and scrolled through the many
texts of Stan asking Heidi for help with their history homework. Heidi was too nice to tell him to
do his own fucking work. The last text was from Monday, and there was no sign of her sending
him the photo of Wendy and Kyle.

Kenny leaned back against the wall, unimpressed. "You could've sent him the photo some other
way. Like you could've tweeted it at him under a throwaway account. Or done some sort of tiktok
dance acting out the phrase 'Wendy is cheating on you with Kyle'."

Kenny and Heidi had fantastic luck, as Wendy walked up from behind them and turned into the
band room doors as Kenny was speaking. Heidi froze in horror. Kenny didn't move, but followed
Wendy with his eyes. Her face was blank, but it was obvious that she was upset because she
always came into concert band with a big smile on her face.

"Oh my god!" mouthed Heidi. "This is awful!" she said quietly once Wendy was far enough away
from them.

"This is why I told you to leave it alone," Kenny said between grit teeth.

"I told you, I didn't send him the pic! I swear! I swear on my mom, my dad, and the vegan souvlaki
with dairy-free tzatziki and jackfruit wrap I brought for lunch!"

"Your…what?"

"Vegan souvlaki with dairy-free tzatziki and jackfruit wrap," said Heidi. Her panic melted away as
she began to talk about more enjoyable topics. "The jackfruit has a meaty sort of texture so it
replaces the chicken, but it's so much better for your gut health and—"

"Okay, okay, I believe you!" said Kenny, throwing his hands up in the air. "Just stop talking about
your weird vegan foods and how well you shit." He sighed and ran his hands over his face. "Okay
then. If you didn't send Stan the photo… Did you send it to anyone else?"

"No. I just showed it to you and Butters." She paused, her eyes looking down and to the right. "And
then on the bus I showed the entire clarinet section. And the entire colorguard. And maybe a few of
the flutes. But I didn't send it to any of their phones!"

Kenny's head fell. "Great. Any one of them could have told Stan or told someone close to Stan who
then could've told him."
The final bell rang and the door to Mr. Bunting's office opened.

"I'll see what information I can get from Wendy later tonight," said Heidi. "The other girls are
definitely going to be trying to get all the details out of her."

Kenny nodded. "Good. Let me know if you hear anything."

The two walked into the band room, closing the doors behind them. Heidi quickly put her clarinet
together and ran down to her chair as Mr. Bunting made it to the conductor's podium. Kenny took
his place behind the marimba and pulled out a pair of soft yarn mallets for warm-up.

During the entire class, he watched Wendy from his spot in the back of the room. She was quiet
and kept to herself the entire time. The other flautists seemed to intentionally not talk to her, most
likely to give her the space she obviously wanted. Her eyes were distant and sad. It was a jarring
contrast to the usual Wendy—a passionate, outspoken, perfectionist of a musician who wanted to
be her best and bring out the best in everyone else.

Kenny decided that he was going to check in with her at the end of class, but by the time he looked
up from cleaning up the pit section, she was already gone.

"I'm worried about Clyde's knee tonight," said Karen as she walked between Craig and Tricia.

"I dunno, I don't think you need to worry," said Tricia. "It's his first game back. It's not like he'd go
full out tonight and risk hurting himself again. Right Craig?"

Both girls looked toward Craig. Craig's eyes widened slightly as he stared straight ahead, thinking
about all the times in their life that Clyde had made poor decisions that had gotten himself hurt.

"Uhhh…"

"Oh no! That means he's definitely going to get hurt again!" said Karen.

Tricia patted her friend on the back. "Try to believe in Clyde. You know how much he loves
football and how much he wants to play college ball. You think he'd actually waste this second
chance?"

"That's a good point. Thank you, Trish!"

Karen threw her arms around Tricia and pulled her into a hug. Tricia gasped in surprise at the
sudden physical contact. After a moment, she shrugged off Karen, blushing under her hoodie.

"Chill dude! My brother is right there!" she said.

"Was that just Trish enjoying a hug for a couple seconds?" asked Craig. "Oh man, I am totally
going to tell dad that you like hugs now."

"Noo! I'm only cool with them if it's Karen."

Craig glanced at his sister, wondering if he should read into that statement or not. He didn't have
much time to think about it before he was interrupted by the sound of frustrated yelling.
"Ahhhrrg! D-dammit!"

They all looked over at the source of the noise. Kevin, Timmy, and Jimmy were standing against
the back of the concession stand, huddled around some sort of contraption.

"I thought you said it fired easily!" Timmy said through his computer.

"It did! I don't know why it's having problems now!" Kevin threw his hands up in the air.

"What's up, dudes?" said Craig.

"Oh, hey Craig. Karen. Trish." Kevin lifted his hand to greet them. "We're troubleshooting the t-
shirt cannon we made in Physics Club."

"Timmy…" "It isn't firing properly. The t-shirt is supposed to fly up to one hundred and fifty feet,
but it's barely going five feet tonight."

"We're looking for the m-money shot, but all we're getting is a sad little dribble," said Jimmy.

"Gross…" Tricia muttered.

"We were so excited about this. You know, our last Homecoming and all. We thought it'd be
something we could make that would be like, a lasting legacy or something," said Kevin.

"What is it with people wanting some sort of high school legacy?" Craig mumbled while Kevin
continued to talk.

"I think we're too close to the problem to see it. Do you mind taking a look? Maybe together the six
of us can figure it out?"

They all nodded and got to work.

Clyde took a deep breath. This was it. He was back on the field, under those bright lights, hundreds
of people in the stands waiting to see how he'd play tonight. Flanked by Stan and Token, he walked
up the fifty yard line to meet with the Broncos' co-captains and the head referee for the coin toss.

Clyde swallowed hard as he found himself face-to-face with Smith and company once more.
Would they try to intimidate him again? This time he wasn't alone, so maybe they would skip the
commentary on his sexuality.

Clyde nodded at the opposing team's captains, acknowledging them, but not wanting to be the first
one to say anything. He held his breath waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"Hey Marsh!" said one of the other co-captains. "I heard your girlfriend broke up with you!"

Smith grinned as he stared down Stan. "Maybe she was tired of being with a woman and decided it
was time to be with a real man. I'll have to show her the time of her life tonight."

Clyde looked back and forth between the Platte Valley players and Stan. It was like he wasn't even
there. They had made such a spectacle last night, but tonight it was like it had never happened.
"I broke up with her cause she was a thot, so by all means, Smith, have my sloppy seconds. That is
if you can even walk after we're done stomping you into the ground," Stan quipped.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah!" Token chimed in.

"Aren't you gonna say something about my sexuality?" asked Clyde.

The five football players turned to look at Clyde. He immediately regretted opening his mouth.
Why would he do that? Why would he ask his tormentors if they were going to torment him this
evening? It was easily one of the stupidest things Clyde had ever done in his entire life - and that
was an impressive feat.

Smith narrowed his eyes at Clyde. "What sexuality, Donovan? No chick would ever want to
fuck your ugly ass."

The referee interrupted the trash talk to explain the rules of the coin toss. Clyde's eyes glossed over
in confusion. Smith's unoriginal insult had insinuated that Clyde was straight. Had he already
forgotten about last night? Had their interaction been so unimportant? Has the news of Stan's
break-up actually pushed the memory of Clyde's coming out from Smith's mind? Was the
importance of high school gossip really that fleeting? Would they even remember most of the
drama in ten years? Twenty years?

Clyde lurched forward as Stan and Token slapped his back. The Park County crowd was cheering,
so Clyde gathered that they'd won the toss and decided to receive the ball. It was time to stop
daydreaming. Time to get his head in the game.

This was it. Time to show everyone that he was back and better than ever.

"Man, this break-up has really done a number on Wendy."

The band milled around in an amorphous blob on the sideline near the Bulls' endzone. A few
minutes were remaining in the quarter and they were killing time until it was their turn to take the
field. Kenny and Tweek were stretching together in the back.

"Of course, dude," said Kenny. "I know they were off and on again almost every week when we
were younger, but in eighth grade, while you were off doing who knows what, they got back
together and they've been inseparable ever since. Four years with the same person. That's longer
than some marriages, dude."

"Damn." Tweek glanced over at Wendy. She was standing slightly outside of the band blob, staring
out at the players on the field. "It just sucks to see her so…listless."

"Nice use of an SAT word," Kenny laughed.

"I'm gonna crush the shit out of that pointless fucking test tomorrow," Tweek said with a grin. "But
seriously. She's usually so excited and enthusiastic at games. It's like she's a cheerleader in a drum
major uniform. But tonight she looks like a doom metal song come to life. I hate it."
"I don't know if she's that bad," Kenny snorted. "The break-up has really gotten to her. It doesn't
seem like her to let a guy affect her so much, you know? Since she's got this whole strong
independent woman thing."

Tweek's eyes widened as they focused behind Kenny. His face began to twitch around his eyes and
mouth. "Uh…"

"And it doesn't help that Stan is totally kicking ass on the field today," Kenny continued, oblivious.
"It looks like the break-up isn't affecting him at all. He's been playing better tonight than he ever
has. I guess in his mind, Wendy really was holding him back."

"Just shut the fuck up, K!" Tweek shrieked.

"I need you to move up front so we can start lining up."

Kenny slowly closed his eyes and pursed his lips. Of course Wendy would walk by while he was
talking about her and Stan. It already happened once today—why not a second time? Kenny sighed
and turned around to apologize, but Wendy was already making her way through the blob, letting
the students know it was time to line up for halftime.

It was like the universe was trying to completely destroy what little bit of their relationship
remained.

The marching band had set up their starting formation by the time that Craig and the others had
solved the t-shirt cannon dilemma. They headed down to the sideline in front of the bleachers in
time to watch the show and keep the crowd hyped in between numbers. Unfortunately for them,
they hadn't planned on the crowd to be this hyped.

The adults were already plastered, standing up during the marching band's performance and trying
to "sing along" to Rhapsody in Blue. When they noticed the t-shirt cannon, they all lost their minds.
They began to scramble around in the bleachers, bumping against each other as they jumped up and
down, waving their hands in the air in an attempt to get the kids' attention.

"Holy shit! Free t-shirts!" yelled Randy. "Hey Sharon! Sharon! Free t-shirts!"

Sharon, who had chosen to abstain from the booze, was holding her head in her hands. "Randy…"
she growled in warning.

"Fine Sharon, gaaawd! Don't be jelly later when I have a sweet new t-shirt and you don't." Randy
stood on top of his seat so he stood out from the other overzealous adults. "Over here! Right here!
Gimme that shit!"

It was Craig's turn to use the cannon. He decided to send a shirt Randy's way, just so he'd stop
being so obnoxious.

"Remember to aim high so that—"

Timmy had started to explain proper technique, but Craig didn't pause to listen. He fired off the
cannon, aiming it directly at Randy. The t-shirt flew over the other fans and hit Randy in the face
at full force, knocking him out cold. He stumbled back, falling onto the bleachers with a crash.
"Oops," said Craig, cringing. "Maybe no more t-shirts."

He shoved the cannon onto Timmy's lap and the six of them sped off into the night as the band
finished their halftime show.

"Marsh is looking for an opening to throw the ball. . . Donovan is wide open on the twenty yard
line. . . Here comes the pass. . . And Donovan makes a beautiful catch, folks! . . . Here comes
Broncos player number forty-five, Brandon Smith, up the middle. . . He's catching up to Donovan. .
. Oh! A last second dodge sends Smith to the ground as Donovan reaches the end zone!
Touchdown, Park County Bulls!"

Clyde threw the football over to the sideline and ran over to his teammates, jumping into their open
arms. The crowd cheered, and some fans started making their way to the exit. With three minutes
left in the game and the Bulls up by twenty-one points, there was no way in hell that Park County
wasn't winning this one.

When Clyde was finally put down by his teammates, he looked up at the stands. He searched the
band for Kenny, who was still standing from playing the fight song after the touchdown. With a
big smile on his face, he pointed at Kenny, then gave him a thumbs up.

When that douchebag Smith tried to tackle Clyde and Clyde spun around him like it was nothing,
Kenny couldn't help but smirk in schadenfreude. He hoped Smith liked the taste of Park County
High dirt. Tapping off the start of the fight song felt so good this time. As the song wrapped up,
Kenny saw Clyde emerge from the pack of jocks. He chuckled softly when he saw Clyde point at
him and raise his thumb in triumphant victory.

Tweek raised his eyebrow at Kenny as the band sat back down in the stands.

"What was that all about?" he asked.

"Hmm?"

"Clyde Donovan points at you and you're not foaming at the mouth. No, in fact, you're laughing
and smiling at him! That's not normal for you, so was that all about?"

Kenny smiled and slowly turned his head toward Tweek. "I've been replaced with a pod person."
He tilted his head to the side and smiled a little bigger.

Tweek's face turned to stone. "Don't you fucking joke about that shit."

Kenny laughed and returned to watching the game. He knew Tweek would eventually get it out of
him, but for now, he wanted to keep this moment for himself.

On the way into the locker room after the game, Clyde spotted Craig and the gang hanging around
the side of the school, so he decided to hang back for a bit. It was completely worth it, as they
filled him in on the soon-to-be-infamous t-shirt cannon incident. Clyde gave them all hugs and told
him how proud he was to know them.

When he finally made it into the locker room, the last few players were putting on their street
clothes and getting ready to head to the gym for the Homecoming dance. They exchanged fist
bumps as he headed toward his locker. Soon, he was alone.

It felt nice to have the entire locker room to himself. He was so used to showering with other guys
that it didn't faze him anymore, but he'd still rather shower alone if he got the chance. He decided
to ignore wrapping a towel around his waist and proudly walked naked through the rows of lockers
to the shower. After a successful comeback after injury, Clyde was feeling good. Nothing could
bring him down from this natural high.

Or so he thought.

After a few minutes of hot showery bliss, Clyde's ears perked up. A voice was echoing throughout
the locker room, and it certainly wasn't his own. It took him a moment to realize that the echoing
voice was singing—poorly.

"You're the best...around! Nothing's gonna ever…*hic* ...keep you down!"

Whose voice was that? Their voice was slow and slurred, but it sounded like—

"Heeyyy Clyyyde!" Stan suddenly appeared in the shower entrance, making Clyde's heart jump
into his throat. "Didn't think you'd still be showerin'. Thought you'd be, like, at the dance already."

He stepped inside the shower room and walked over to the wall opposite Clyde. He opened the
small bottle of booze he had nestled in the pocket of his varsity jacket and took a swig. As he
screwed the cap back on, he slid down the shower wall until he was seated.

Clyde stared dumbfounded. "What the fuck are you doing, Stan?"

"Hanging with my friend. My good friend. Jack D, Jackie D...Jacqueline Daniels. My new
girlfriend. She's never going to cheat on me, nope. Nope nope nopey no. She's my queen." He
opened the bottle once more for another swig.

"I mean, why are you here, in front of me, while I'm showering?"

Stan leaned his head back against the wall and looked up at the ceiling. "I dunno. Bored, I guess."

Clyde quickly rinsed himself and turned off the water. He was seriously regretting not bringing in a
towel. He left Stan in the shower and returned to his locker. Once he toweled himself dry and got
dressed in his street clothes, he closed the locker door to find Stan standing behind it.

"Ya know why Wendy's a bitch?" he asked.

"I'm not falling for that, dude. I don't need to feel your wrath on Monday when you're sober and
back together and angry at me for saying shit about her," said Clyde.

"Fuck that, I'm not taking her back. She's a bitch because she fuckin' cheated on me. With Kyle.
That's my best friend!"

"How do you know? Did she or Kyle confess?"

"Nah dude, when I asked her about it, she got all pissy and denied it. But I've seen it with my own
two eyes." Stan pointed to his ears. "They hang with each other all the time."

"They're friends who are in the same band together," said Clyde.

"She laughs too hard at his jokes," Stan continued.

"They have a similar sense of humor."

"I've seen the way she looks at him. Like she's giving him a blowjob with her eyes. She's probably
over at the dance giving him an actual blowjob with her eyes right now."

"Being around you drunk makes me feel so smart." Clyde sighed and crossed his arms. "Okay bro,
I can't just leave you like this, and I definitely don't want you driving home like this. Come on,
we're going over to the dance. Let's tear it up!"

Clyde reached out his hand to Stan. Stan smiled, stuffing the empty bottle back into his jacket
before reaching out to take Clyde's hand.

The drumline was always the last section to leave the locker room after a game. This wasn't
because they were goofing off. No, this was because Kenny liked to have a huddle to debrief on
the performance. The underclassmen hated it, but the older students knew that the instant feedback
helped them focus on what they needed to work on the following week.

Once the meeting was over, Kenny changed out of his uniform and hung back to collect the others'
uniforms. He waved to the last freshman as they left through the door. He gathered the uniform
bags in his arms and headed down the hallway to the band storage room.

The door was wide open. Kenny cringed. Right, Wendy was still in there, organizing the bags so
they would be ready for next week's game. She was probably still pissed about Stan. Kenny didn't
have much choice—he walked into the dragon's den.

"Oh. Great. It's you," said Wendy, turning to see who was behind her. "I shouldn't have expected
anything different, given how today has gone."

"Yeah, sorry about that." Kenny sighed as he plopped the bags onto a table. "I promise it was just
shitty timing. It's not like I was talking about you all day."

Wendy went back to her work. "It doesn't matter. Everyone else was."

"Still doesn't make it right."

Kenny watched Wendy work in silence for a moment. He didn't want to interrupt her flow, but he
also didn't want to ditch her here with the extra uniforms. He wasn't sure what the right choice
would be.

"Do you want help with that?" he finally asked.

She didn't turn around when she answered. "No thank you. I'm a big girl, I can handle this myself.
I'm gonna finished this, and then I'm going home...I guess. Since I don't have a boyfriend
anymore."
Kenny couldn't tell if Wendy was angry or sad about that fact. He couldn't see her face and her
voice wasn't giving anything away.

"Not that I need one," she quickly added. "I can be fine on my own. I'm a strong, independent
woman who doesn't need a guy in order to live her life and be happy. Yeah. Yeah. Even though I
wasted years of my life with him, I should thank him for setting me free. It's not like I thought I
was going to marry him or anything."

"You'll definitely be able to find someone else, if you want. Stan and I go way back, but honestly,
you can do way better than him. Again, if you want. No pressure or anything," said Kenny.

Wendy spun around and gave Kenny a look that could kill. He knew she was going to be upset, but
clearly he was just making it worse.

"Hand me one of those bags," she demanded, pointing to the drumline's uniforms.

Kenny followed through.

"You know, I find it really freaking audacious that you were be trying to hit on me while I'm in this
vulnerable state, Kenny."

"Huh?"

"Trying to soften me up by being nice, make me more pliable to your advances. I know what your
game is, friend, and I hate it. I know guys like you take advantage of girls after break-ups when
they're hurt and lonely and just want someone to talk to. You make them think you care by being a
good listener and bringing them flowers and soup when they're sick, and giving them backrubs
after a long day at school. You tell them that you love them over and over again until they believe
it, and they say they love you back. You fantasize about a life together, raising a family, and
growing old together. Then, when you have them exactly where you want them, boom! You accuse
them of cheating on your with your mutual friend, call you a dumb slut, and break-up with you over
the phone."

Kenny opened his mouth, then closed it. What could he even say to this? He decided to just let her
vent - something he suspected she hadn't been able to do all day.

"I am a damn good girlfriend," she continued. "I'm supportive and smart and caring and pretty. I'm
a fucking catch. I could get another boyfriend if I wanted to. One who's better than Stan ever was!"

"I mean, that's basically what I said a moment ago," Kenny said under his breath.

"Why should I sit around moping over him? Why should I wait around, hoping that he's going to
come to his senses and apologize? He's probably off at the dance making out with someone else
right now! If he's already moved on, then I should, too!"

She hung up the final uniform and spun around on her heels. A look of stubborn determination
covered her face.

"Kenny, would you like to go to the Homecoming dance with me?"

"Really? Are you sure?"

"Yes. Yes I am. The whole school says you're fun, and...I need some fun right now."

Kenny spotted the sadness behind her eyes. Distracting himself from sadness with fun was his
specialty. This was his chance to make it up to her for today. He held out his hand.

"Oh, I'll show you fun, alright," he grinned. "Let's go."

The gym was covered in green and silver streamers and paper stars. A large banner hung over the
gym doors, reading "Welcome to Homecoming!" The walls were reverberating with heavy bass
from the dance floor. The air was already hot and smelling of teen hormones and sweat.

Kenny and Wendy walked in together and surveyed the area.

"Okay," said Kenny, clapping his hands together, "time to show you how to have fun. First, I gotta
find someone to sell us some drugs."

"What? No! No drugs! I want fun, not getting arrested and ending up in jail with an addiction for
life!"

"Aw, come on, Wends. You can't have proper fun without getting arrested at the end of the night."
He grinned and winked at Wendy, but she was having none of it. "Okay, not in the mood for jokes.
Well, how about this. Do you want to get a snack first or go straight to the dance floor. I'd
personally go dance floor because that's where I'm the most fun."

Wendy looked back and forth between her two options. She held her chin with her hand and tapped
her lips with her index finger. Her eyes suddenly lit up and Kenny saw her smile for the first time
all day.

"Let's go to the dance floor!" she said.

Kenny quickly realized why she had made her decision. Some of the other band kids were dancing
together in a group—including Kyle.

"Are you sure you want to be seen with him right now?" asked Kenny.

"What do you mean? I didn't cheat on Stan with him, so why should it matter? I need to stop
making decisions because of what Stan might think. I need to stop questioning what I want because
of what Stan or others might think. I said I needed fun right now, and dancing with my friend Kyle
is what I find fun."

"Fair enough," said Kenny. In his gut, he still had a bad feeling about this.

"Hey guys! Welcome to the party!" Kyle cheered.

He reached his arms out to his friends and pulled them in close—Wendy ended up in front of him
and Kenny ended up behind. Kyle didn't miss a beat as he seamlessly went back to dancing like he
didn't have a care in the world. Wendy followed his lead and danced along with him, her skin
brushing against his as they moved.

Kenny stared at them. They seemed to already be lost in their own world, becoming one with the
music. He shrugged and decided to join them, making a full fledged Kyle dance sandwich.
Clyde guided Stan into the gymnasium, squeezing his hand like he was afraid Stan would get lost
if he let go. His plan was to get him to the refreshments as soon as possible. After a few snacks and
some water, maybe Stan would be safe enough to dance off the rest of his buzz.

However, even the best laid plans can fail.

Stan tugged against Clyde's arm, pulling him in the opposite direction of the refreshments.

"Fuck yeah, dancing! This song is a bop! I gotta go, Clyde!"

Clyde sighed and gave in. He let Stan guide him toward the dance floor, still afraid to let go of his
hand since he hadn't been able to get Stan's keys away from him yet.

As they got closer to the dance floor, Clyde thought about the phenomenon in which time appears
to slow down during a car crash. Clyde saw Wendy and Kyle first, but his body felt like it was
moving through molasses. He could pinpoint the exact moment that Stan noticed Kyle—and then
noticed Wendy. Stan walked faster, pulling along a now-reluctant Clyde.

"What the fuck, Wendy?" Stan drunkenly yelled.

The students on the dance floor stopped to watch the drama unfold. Kenny raised his eyebrows at
Clyde. Clyde responded with a reluctant smile and a resigned shrug.

"What do you want, Stan? I'm trying to have fun!" said Wendy.

"How dare you try to rebound with Kyle of all people? You only broke up with me last night!"

"WHAT?! First off, you're the one who broke up with me! Secondly, how could I possibly rebound
with Kyle when I supposedly cheated on you with him in the first place!"

Kyle's eyes flitted back and forth between his two friends. "Uh, hey guys? What exactly is going on
here?" They didn't even notice he was there.

"Huh? Oh yeah, right! You did cheat on my with him! You...you harlot!"

"Oh, I'm a harlot now, huh? That's an awfully fancy word for you. I'm surprised your creatinine
and whey powder-soaked brain was able to remember that one!"

"Ouch! I'm wounded! Your bitch brain is so good at coming up with insults…harlot!"

Stan breathed a little too hard into his last word. Wendy's nose scrunched at the smell before
everything clicked. Her eyes ignited with furious disappointment.

"Oh. My. God. Have you been fucking drinking?!"

"Yes! Yes I fucking have, Wendy! I can get drunk whenever, now that I don't have you pestering
me all the time!"

"I'm so done with you. Come on Kyle, let's go—"

Wendy turned to talk to Kyle, but he was long gone.

"He left with Butters and Millie to get snacks a few minutes ago," said Clyde.
 The four of them looked over at the refreshment table to see Kyle and the others laughing together
while eating chips and punch.

"I need to get out of here," said Wendy, rubbing her temple with her fingertips. She turned to
Kenny. "Can you take me home? Please? I'm begging you."

"Yeah. Yeah, sure thing. Let's go."

Wendy was already storming off to the exit before Kenny could finish talking. He looked at Clyde
and sighed. "Are you good with bringing the dumbass home?" He pointed at Stan, who was leaning
heavily onto Clyde's arm.

"Yeah. That's probably a good idea." He shifted his body and lifted Stan's arm up over his
shoulders for more support. "Uh...good luck, I guess. With her."

"Mmhmm. Good luck with him. Hopefully he doesn't puke in your car."

Clyde's nose crinkled. "Thanks…"

Clyde watched as Kenny ran off after Wendy. Once he was out of sight, Clyde turned his attentions
to his own charge.

"Come on, dude. We need to get you home and in bed."

Chapter End Notes

Thank you for your continued support of this not-so-little-anymore rarepair slow burn
fic!

Social media: @otherluces on Tumblr and Twitter; Luces#5969 on Discord

Timeline: October 4 - 5

Song lyrics from "You're the Best" by Joe Esposito

 Clyde x Stan
Chapter Notes

Surprise! It's a chapter after only two weeks instead of months. ^^() Credit that to me
able to take a week off from work as a sort of birthday gift for myself (your friendly
neighborhood Clenny writer (I think I may be the only one left...) is turning 35
tomorrow, yay me I suppose, even though I'm also back to the 12-13 hour healthcare
grind).

Potential tw/cw for this chapter: there is one-sided buzzed/drunk sex in this chapter,
which irl is definitely a consent red flag, so if that bothers you, please keep yourself
protected. If you choose to skip the smut, it starts around the line '“Can I kiss you?” he
whispered.' and ends around 'Clyde decided to go to the bathroom to clean up.'

See the end of the chapter for more notes

"I seriously can't believe Wendy tonight. Like who the fuck does she think she is, yelling at me like
that?"

Stan was slumped against the passenger door of E Honda, his cheek pressed against the window.
Clyde sat white-knuckled next to him. He'd been driving as cautiously as possible, gradually
slowing down at stop lights and trying to avoid any potholes in a desperate attempt to prevent Stan
from puking all over his car. So far, so good.

Clyde sighed. "She thinks she's your now ex-girlfriend, and she'd be right about that, dude. And the
yelling at you...well, you started yelling at her first."

"Psh, whatever. I only yelled at her because she was cheating on me with Kyle right in front of my
face," said Stan. "Fucking bitch."

"All she was doing was dancing with Kyle—and Kenny, too." Clyde's eyes widened at the thought
of Stan accusing Wendy of cheating on him with Kenny as well. "You know what? Nevermind.
The important part is that I'm getting you home safely."

"Yeah, I guess."

They drove in silence for a few minutes before Stan forgot that he'd been talking earlier.

"I seriously can't believe Wendy tonight. Like who the fuck does she think she is, yelling at me like
that?"

Clyde sighed again. Stan was one of his best friends, and he could be a whole lot of fun when he
was drunk, but Stan was also the worst drunk of their entire class. Instead of repeating the same
conversation verbatim, Clyde decided to try a different response.

"Yeah, you're totally right, dude. What a fucking bitch," he said. He hoped Stan wouldn't remember
this conversation in the morning.

"You're damn right she's a bitch! You know why Wendy is a bitch? Cause she is too smart, and
she's stuck up, and she never lets me have any fun, and she has, like, life goals and fucking dreams
and shit and that's pretty lame. I live in the now, dude. I have no clue what I'm going to do after
graduation. I'll figure it out when I get there."

Clyde glanced over at Stan. He wasn't sure if that statement was true, or if Stan was just saying it
because he was drunk and stupid, but if it was true, then maybe it was for the best that he and
Wendy had broken up.

"Live in the now, huh? How do you feel now, then?" asked Clyde.

Stan was quiet for a moment. Then he leaned forward in the car. "I feel like I'm gonna puke."

Every muscle fiber in Clyde's body tensed. He wasn't sure what to do in a situation like this. He
wanted to yell at Stan to roll down the window to puke, but he also didn't trust Stan to do it
properly—the window probably wouldn't get down all the way and there'd still be a huge mess.

Stan let out a large belch.

"Oh. Okay. Nevermind, I feel better now."

Crisis averted.

Clyde made the turn onto Stan's road and took a deep breath. Almost there.

Stan's phone vibrated and he swiped it open. "Hey dude, it's my mom. She says that my dad got
knocked out by a t-shirt and they're in the ER. She says she expects that they'll be there all night, so
I'll have the house to myself."

Stan looked over at Clyde, his face illuminated by the glow of his phone. "You wanna stay over
tonight? I mean, like, no homo and shit. Just like the sleepovers we used to do as kids. We could
order a pizza and shit, play some games, you know?"

Clyde nodded. "Sure, dude."

Clyde really just wanted to get back to his own bed after this eventful evening, but he also wanted
to keep an eye on his friend until he sobered up. If left alone to his own devices, Stan would
probably go on a weekend bender as his way of coping over the break-up. The break-up that he
initiated.

Clyde pulled into the Marsh's driveway and Stan was already trying to get out of the car. Clyde
quickly hit the breaks and parked as Stan stumbled out onto the asphalt. Clyde helped guide Stan
into the house, as Stan was seeming more interested in clumsily swaying back and forth while
looking up at the stars.

Once inside, Stan made a beeline for the kitchen. Clyde pulled out his phone and started to call a
nearby pizzeria. The moment a voice greeted him on the other line, Clyde heard the snap of a beer
can opening from the kitchen. Clyde dropped the phone on the floor and sprinted into the kitchen.

"No no no!" he said while snatching the can away from Stan's lips. "No more of this for you
tonight, bro." Clyde emptied the can down the sink.

"My beer!" Stan whined.

"Turn around and march right upstairs to your room, young man," said Clyde.

He crinkled his nose at how much he sounded like his mother. Still, it was effective. Stan turned
around, his shoulders hunched in defeat, and lumbered out of the kitchen and toward the stairway.
Clyde grabbed his phone off the floor and followed after Stan as he stomped his way up the stairs.

Clyde looked down the hallway at the bathroom once they reached the second floor. Maybe if Stan
took a cold shower, it might help him sober up some. The sound of a door closing made Clyde's
head snap forward. Whatever Stan was going to do, it couldn't be good.

When Clyde burst into Stan's room, he found him standing by his bed, messing around with his
phone.

"Stan, what are you doing?" he asked, cautiously.

Stan brought the phone up to his ear. "I'm callin' Wendy to ask her if she knows why she's a bitch."

"NO!" yelled Clyde as he ran forward and knocked the phone out of Stan's hand. "Nothing good
can come from drunk dialing anyone, dude! Especially an ex! Trust me, I did it to Bebe a few times
after our break-up, and I'm lucky she's still friends with me!"

"Come on, Clyde! I need to put her ass on blast! I need to show her and everyone else that I'm not
some bitch ass pussy little bitch boy."

Clyde's eyes widened as he took everything in. He rubbed his face and took a deep breath.

"Alright, that's it, dude. You're taking a cold shower. I can't handle drunk Stan anymore tonight."

Clyde grabbed Stan by the shoulders and used them to steer him back out of the room and down
the hall to the bathroom.

"Aw dude, you're gonna see my dick!" whined Stan as Clyde helped him undress. "No homo, right?
Did I say that already?"

"Stan. We shower together all the time after practice. I've seen your dick already."

Stan paused as Clyde helped him into the shower. "Do you think it looks good? Like is it a good
size?" he asked.

Clyde turned on the shower, spraying a cold blast of water down onto a shrieking Stan.

Back in Stan's room after the shower, Clyde handed Stan three ibuprofen and a glass of water. They
had both gotten dressed for the night—Stan in a t-shirt and boxers, Clyde in a borrowed pair of
shorts and a t-shirt. Stan swallowed down the medicine and chugged down the water.

"Thanks, bro," he said, sitting down on his bed. "That fuckin' sucked, but I do feel better now. I
still feel kinda buzzed, but I have zero desire to call Wendy."

Clyde chuckled. "Good. I did not want to have to clean up that mess."

He thought of what Kenny would have had to deal with if the call had gone through. Wendy was
scary enough as is.

Stan lifted his legs up into his bed and wiggled them down under the covers. Clyde took it as a
signal to leave the room.

"Alright then," he said, stretching and heading toward the door, "I'll go take your parent's room
tonight. See ya in the morning."
"Do you really want to sleep in the bed my parents have sex in?"

Clyde froze in place, shuddering. "No. No, I do not want that. Okay, fine, I'll sleep on the couch
downstairs."

"My dad has sat bare-assed on that couch, so...sleep tight, bro."

Clyde cringed. He really didn't want to sleep on fabric that had touched Randy Marsh's hairy balls
and probably even hairier ass. He sighed in defeat. He was about to suggest he sleep on the floor
when Stan continued talking.

"Just sleep with me, dude. It's a queen-sized bed, so like, we don't have to cuddle or anything."

Clyde shrugged and headed toward the bed. He pulled back the covers and hopped in as Stan
fluffed his pillow and pulled the sheets on his side up to his shoulders. They each faced toward the
edge of the bed, and once they were comfortable, Stan leaned over to turn off the bedside lamp.

Clyde was able to get comfortable in the bed, but apparently Stan could not. He tossed and turned
on his side of the bed every few minutes. Clyde couldn't tell if it was just that he couldn't find a
position that felt right, or if it was because Stan had something on his mind.

After some time, Stan finally stilled.

"...I'm sorry I said no homo earlier," Stan said softly. "That's like...offensive, right? Cause like, you
like dudes now?"

Clyde snorted. "I wasn't offended, dude. But yeah, it's probably not something we should say
anymore—whether I like dudes now or not."

Stan hummed in agreement. He was quiet again for a few minutes. Then Clyde felt a tap on his
shoulder.

"Can I ask you a question?" asked Stan.

"Yeah, buddy. What's up?"

"How did it feel to come out?"

Clyde felt like the air in his lungs was sucked out of him. He wasn't sure how to answer. The whole
week had been such a blur that he hadn't really had the time to reflect on it all. He took a deep
breath and went with his gut.

"It was terrifying. I mean, like...I didn't really realize it at the time, cause I knew I had to do it in
order to—" Kenny's face from the alley outside of Tweak Bros flashed in Clyde's head "—make it
up to someone. But like...there's always that worry in the back of your head. That worry that people
will look at you differently. I know I'm popular and shit, but that doesn't mean I'm not immune to
people talking shit about me, or—" the faces of the Platte Valley players surrounding him flashed
by "—threatening to beat the shit out of me. Thankfully, I've been okay, though. Especially thanks
to the support from you, Token, and the rest of the team."

"Yeah, no problem, dude," said Stan, clearly with more on his mind. "Uh...so how did you figure
out that you were bi?"

Clyde snorted and rolled over onto his back. He wasn't about to out Token and Nichole to Stan—it
wasn't his place. He decided to gloss over specific details.
"I was asked out by a guy at school, and it got me thinkin' a lot about whether or not I could ever
be interested in a guy. After having a couple wet dreams about it, I figured I'd try it out, you know?
YOLO and whatever."

"So...you've been with a guy then?" Stan laid on his side, facing Clyde. His head was propped up
on his hand.

"Yeah."

"What does it feel like…? To be with a guy…? Like...physically?"

Clyde stared up at the ceiling. "It's kinda the same as being with a girl, but...not? Like...making out
is making out, but also girls don't have stubble on their face, you know? Guys aren't as soft as
girls…? I dunno, it's kinda hard to put it into words. All I know is that it felt good and I liked it."

"Can I confess something?" asked Stan.

"Sure, dude."

"I've been having these thoughts lately. Like...gay thoughts. Like I've daydreamed about being with
another guy. And...I've jerked off thinking about being with another guy. I can't stop thinking
about it, but...I've been afraid to act on it. Like...maybe subconsciously that's part of why I broke
up with Wendy—that like maybe I'd be less afraid if I were single? Does that…? Does that make
sense?"

"Yeah."

Silence fell between them. Clyde kept staring at the ceiling. He hadn't had this intimate of a
conversation with Stan in...ever, honestly. It felt good. It felt like they were sharing something with
each other that would only strengthen their friendship. The silence hung in the air around them, but
it didn't feel uncomfortable.

"Hey Clyde?" Stan asked quietly.

"Hmm?"

"Can I kiss you?" he whispered.

Clyde could feel his heart start pounding. When he'd left the Homecoming dance with Stan, he'd
never expected that this was how the night was going to end. He rolled onto his side to look at
Stan. His eyes had adjusted to the darkness and he could see the silhouette of Stan leaning in closer
to him. He couldn't clearly see his face, but he could still sense Stan's desperation.

One kiss couldn't hurt, right?

"Sure."

Stan slowly moved forward, filling the empty space between him and Clyde. He awkwardly
grabbed at Clyde's shoulders and pressed their lips together. Stan's lips were thin and slightly
chapped, and his breath still smelled of whiskey.

Clyde made the first move to progress the kiss past static lips against lips. He could feel how
nervous and stiff Stan was, and he wanted this to be a somewhat good experience for his friend.
Clyde opened his mouth just a little, taking Stan's lower lip in between his own and gently sucking
on it. His tongue lightly traced along Stan's lip. He felt Stan relax. Now that Clyde had taken
initiative, Stan felt more comfortable responding back with his own mouth.

After a moment, Stan broke away from the kiss, keeping his face close to Clyde's.

"So...what do you think?" asked Clyde.

"Uh...I dunno… Can I try it again?" said Stan.

Clyde smirked. He could see right through him. "Sure, my dude."

This time, Stan took control, much to Clyde's surprise. There was more intensity and gusto behind
Stan's kiss. It felt like this time he really wanted to kiss Clyde, whereas before he was uncertain.
Stan's hand squeezed Clyde's shoulder, his fingers digging into the muscle. Clyde gently slipped
his hands around Stan's waist, pulling him closer.

Stan was a good kisser. Clyde never would have guessed since he'd never been serious with anyone
besides Wendy, but clearly he learned how to perfect a make out session after all those years with
her. He knew when to use his tongue and didn't use too much. He threw in a few tiny nips at
Clyde's bottom lip while he moved his other hand up into Clyde's thick brown hair.

Clyde's fingers gripped into Stan's waist, tugging at the thin cotton fabric covering his skin. He
could feel his heart pounding in his chest. He could feel the blood rushing in between his legs. He
badly wanted to pull Stan's body up against his and grind against his thigh. Thinking on this, he
abruptly pulled away from Stan.

"Hey, uh, we should probably stop now, bro," said Clyde. "I'm getting turned on by this, and I don't
want to make things more awkward for you."

Stan wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and laughed. "That makes me feel better. I thought
maybe it was just me. I've been trying to move my hips around so that my dick didn't rub up
against you. I didn't want you to feel awkward. I mean, this isn't something friends typically do
with each other, right?"

You'd be surprised, Clyde thought to himself.

"Okay...okay. So we're both turned on now," said Clyde. "You wanna keep making out or do you
wanna stop?"

Stan took a deep breath. "I...um… I don't want to stop, that's for sure. But, uh…" He licked his lips
and swallowed. "I've been really wanting to know what it'd feel like to have a dick in my mouth. So
like...if it was okay with you…"

Clyde felt blood pulse into his cock. He was never one to turn down a blowjob, even if it was from
one of his best bros. He let out a shuddered breath.

"Yeah," he practically sighed. "It's okay with me. Totally cool."

Stan sat up and crawled over between Clyde's legs. He looked like an eager puppy as he grabbed at
Clyde's shorts and pulled them down. Clyde lifted his legs and Stan moved appropriately so that
the shorts could come off completely and be discarded to the floor. Stan licked his lower lip as he
looked down at Clyde's exposed cock.

"Sorry it's not fully hard yet," said Clyde. "It's not, like, super impressive or anything for your first
time."
"Nah, it's fine. It's a little less intimidating when it's still kinda soft."

Stan leaned down and wrapped his fingers around Clyde's cock. He hesitated at first, opening and
closing his mouth a few times as he tried to build up courage.

Clyde couldn't see what Stan was doing and started to wonder if he was changing his mind. When
he suddenly felt Stan's warm mouth around him, he gasped and flexed his hips. He felt the blood
pulsing into his cock while Stan slowly suckled on it, holding it carefully like he didn't want to hurt
it. Clyde felt Stan moan around him. A shiver ran up his spine

"How's it going down there, buddy?" he asked.

Stan pulled his mouth away for a moment to speak. "It feels really fucking cool when it gets hard in
my mouth."

"Hah, I'll have to take your word on it. I actually haven't sucked a dick yet. Just been fucked by
one."

Stan wrapped his lips around the head of Clyde's cock and sucked hard. He flicked his tongue back
and forth before swirling it around in a circle. His hand firmly wrapped around the base, he felt
Clyde's cock throbbing as it finally reached full hardness. Stan opened his mouth wide and tried to
see how much he could get into his mouth. It was only a few inches before he pulled away. He
continued to pump his hand up and down Clyde's length while he talked.

"Couple things, dude," he said. "One, I think I need to work on my gag reflex cause I can't get that
much in my mouth, but also two, your dick is huge."

"Huh?" asked Clyde. "No it's not. It's average."

"No, dude, it's fucking not. It's definitely bigger than mine. Maybe it's not super long, but it feels
really thick."

"Are you sure? I always thought I was average cause mine kinda looked like some of the dudes I
see in porn."

"Oh my god, Clyde. Seriously, dude?" Stan used his free hand to pinch the bridge of his nose.
"Dudes in porn are most definitely not average. I mean maybe if it was amateur, but if you're
talking about what you'd find on the front page of Pornhub, I swear to god, dude."

"I'm sorry! I didn't know! I genuinely thought all dicks looked like this when they're hard."

Stan decided to shut Clyde up by running his tongue up the side of his cock before swallowing as
much as he could. He moved his head up and down, tightening his lips around Clyde's length and
trying his best not to have his teeth accidentally scrape the sides. They quietly continued, with only
the sounds of Clyde's heavy breathing and Stan's occasional moan filling the room. It wasn't the
greatest blowjob Clyde had ever received by any means, but it definitely felt good, especially for a
first try.

At one point, Stan stopped to get up and rummage through his sock drawer. Clyde whined as the
cold air hit his wet cock. Stan quickly shut the drawer and returned to the bed. Clyde heard the
snap of a cap opening, then heard the rude sound of a bottle nearing its end. When he heard Stan let
out a loud moan, he put two and two together.

"You know, I don't know if this is weird to say or not," he said once Stan's mouth was back around
his cock, "but...it's really hot that you're jerking off while you're going down on me."
"Awm noh jerkin awf," Stan tried to say with a cock in his mouth.

"Oh. Oh!" Clyde gasped as Stan sucked particularly hard. "That's...that's even hotter," he panted.

After a few more minutes, and by the sound of it, a second finger, Clyde put his hand on Stan's
head and gently pushed him away.

"So, uh...I was wondering if...uh, if you'd want to try something more than your fingers."

Stan was quiet. He then took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. "To be clear, you're asking if I
want you to fuck me. If I want you to fuck me with your thick-ass porn dick."

"Uh...yeah. Yeah, that's what I'm asking."

"Does a dick in your ass feel as good as a finger in your ass?"

"Nah, it feels even better."

"Then fuck yeah, I want that."

Stan got up out of bed and returned to his sock drawer. He fished out a condom and tossed it to
Clyde.

"The lube is on the bed next to you," he said. "So, uh, how exactly do you wanna do this? Like,
should I be on my back or…?"

"I dunno, dude. I was on my back when I did it, but I think I read somewhere that being on top is
the most comfortable for beginners? It's really up to you."

"When I've fantasized about being with another guy...I'm always on my hands and knees," Stan
said softly.

He climbed up onto the bed and leaned forward to steal a kiss while Clyde was rolling on the
condom. Stan then got himself into position. His forearms rested on the bed for support, his knees
were tucked in tight under his hips, his head was down, and his ass was up.

Clyde squirted some lube into his hand and pumped his fist around his cock a few times to get it
thoroughly coated. He moved forward and lined himself up with Stan's asshole, still slick with
lube.

Clyde's heart was pounding in his chest. He had given vaginal sex dozens of times, and he had
received anal sex once, but he had never given anal. What if he wasn't good at it? What if
something went wrong and he hurt Stan?

The sound of Stan whining in anticipation brought him back to the moment. He placed his hands on
Stan's hips and pushed inside. Clyde made sure to control himself as he slowly slid in, wanting to
let Stan get used to the different kind of full feeling. Once his hips were flush with Stan's ass, he
checked in.

"How are you doing?"

"It's a little uncomfortable, but it doesn't really hurt. The only thing that's hurting right now is my
dick. I've barely given it any attention."

"Here, gimme your hand," said Clyde.

Stan held out one of his hands. Clyde dripped some lube into his palm before closing the bottle and
tossing it onto the floor.

"Have at it, bro. I'm gonna start, okay? Let me know if you need me to stop at any point."

Stan wrapped his hand around his aching cock and Clyde pulled out and thrust back in. Stan lewdly
moaned from that alone. Clyde did it again, with the same results. He began a steady rhythm of
shallow thrusts, gradually taking longer, deeper strokes as Stan unraveled under him.

Stan was surprisingly loud. Based on his quieter moans from earlier, Clyde hadn't expected him to
sound like he was the one straight out of porn. Clyde didn't mind though. It actually was a huge
turn on to know that he was making his friend feel this good. He was grateful that they had the
house to themselves. Bless Craig and that t-shirt cannon.

Stan's knees slowly began to slide out from under him as Clyde continued to fuck him into the bed.
Clyde did his best to hold up Stan's hips, to make sure he was going as deep as possible, but he was
fighting a losing battle. Eventually he repositioned himself, and the change in angle was exactly
what Stan needed.

"Oh god! Oh fuck! Right there! Fuck! I'm gonna come!" Stan yelled.

He grabbed a nearby pillow with his free hand and shoved his face into it. Clyde could hear him
continue to moan and scream into the pillow as he felt Stan's ass clench around his dick. After a
moment, his muscles relaxed and his arms went limp. Clyde took this as a sign that he had come
and it was okay for him to finish as well.

Clyde braced one hand on the headboard and one on Stan's shoulder. He began to thrust hard and
fast, chasing his own orgasm. Stan whined into his pillow and his hands grasped at his bedsheets.
Clyde began to moan as he felt his balls tighten up. With a final thrust and one loud fuck!, he
spilled into the condom and collapsed onto Stan.

Clyde felt Stan's body shaking underneath his weight, so he rolled off of him and lied on his back
while he continued to catch his breath. It sounded like Stan was still moaning into the pillow. That
was odd. Clyde had never had aftershocks so good that he moaned through them, but Stan was
clearly a loud, vocal guy in bed, so maybe it was just something he did.

Clyde decided to go to the bathroom to clean up. While he was in there, he took a long look in the
mirror. This was the second time he'd gotten laid in a week. Three, if Token and Nichole were
counted separately. It boded well for his lead in the contest, but as he stared at himself, he started
to think about what all of this meant for his friendships. It was so far, so good with Token and
Nichole, but they had come to him and it hadn't been their first time inviting a third person into
their relationship. But Stan? He had been vulnerable. He had never done something like this
before. Had he taken advantage of Stan's vulnerability? Had he subconsciously wanted this to
happen just so he could score another point?

Clyde shook his head. No. Stan had been the one to bring it up. He'd specifically asked for it. Sure,
he was still drunk, but he was sobering up, so it was okay, right? ...Right?

Clyde bit his lip. The easiest way to answer these doubts was to talk to Stan about it. He washed
his hands and headed back down the hall to Stan's room. When he entered the room, he heard Stan
sobbing in bed.

"Oh my god, Stan!"

Clyde ran over and turned on the bedside lamp. Stan was lying on his side with his knees pulled up
to his chest. He winced at the sudden light and covered his face with his hands.

"Stan, are you okay? What's wrong? Did I hurt you? Fuck, I thought your sobs were moans, dude!"
Clyde felt his stomach drop as he began to panic. "Stan, bro, talk to me! Please!"

Stan pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. He took a moment to catch his breath before he
spoke.

"No, you didn't hurt me, Clyde. It felt amazing. I'm crying because I feel like I don't know myself
anymore!" His voice went up in pitch as he began to sob again mid-sentence.

It was an awful feeling, seeing a friend like this. He wasn't sure what he could say or do to make
things better, so he did what he always does when Bebe comes to him like this. Clyde walked
around to the other side of the bed and got in. He reached out his arms and pulled Stan towards his
chest, holding him tightly. He took a deep breath and let Stan cry.

Clyde lost track of time as he held Stan. He heard Stan's sobs gradually grow quieter, and it
sounded like he was about to say something a few times, but then changed his mind. Finally after a
while, Stan was ready to talk.

"Remember how I said I'd been daydreaming and jerking off while thinking about being with
another guy?" he said in between sniffles. "Well...it's only one guy. It's Kyle. I'm attracted to my
best friend, dude."

Clyde stayed silent. He didn't want to make any noise that would potentially make Stan self-
conscious about opening up. He realized that it must be hard for Stan to have feelings for a close
friend. It'd be like if he was attracted to Craig. It'd just be weird and uncomfortable. The only
difference was that Clyde knew Craig was gay, so there was the possibility of something maybe
happening if he did feel that way.

"I think I've been attracted to him for a while, but I only really realized it back in May. But then I
barely saw him all summer, so like, I just kept thinking about him more and more. I was scared. I
started hating myself for having these gay thoughts about my super best friend...and then… Then
once we got back to school, I took it out on Wendy."

Stan moved Clyde's arms off of him and rolled onto his back.

"I know she didn't actually cheat on me," he said, sighing. "I'm just so fucking jealous of how close
they are. I see them together all the time cause of band and shit, and it feels like I'm on another
planet or something. It's like, is he still my best friend if we rarely hang out anymore? I wanted to
be around him so much, but I couldn't...but Wendy could, and I resented her for that."

"Do you regret breaking up with her?" asked Clyde.

"Nah. I think it's still for the best. I mean...I guess I could've done it better...like I could have not
called her a cheating slutbag with super chlamydia."

"Oh my god, dude. Please tell me you're joking," Clyde said, squeezing his eyes shut.

Stan's silence spoke volumes.

"But yeah, now that I'm single, I can try to hang out with Kyle more, and...you know, maybe
something will happen." He paused for a moment to think, then inhaled sharply. "Fuck, but what if
I tried to make a move on him, but he's straight, and I just push him further away from me! Shit, I
 didn't think about that before!"

Clyde cocked his head to the side. He'd never thought about what Kyle's sexuality was. He
supposed he assumed he was straight because he only ever dated two people—both girls—and he
kinda came off as conservative when it came to relationships. On the other hand, Kyle was also a
guy who was very vocal about social justice and was an advocate for LBGTQ rights. He was even
a member of the school's Gay-Straight Alliance...but did that mean he was gay, straight, or
something else altogether?

"I don't know what he is," Stan continued, "cause I know he likes chicks, right? But also we went
to the movies a couple weeks ago, and I swear he got a little too excited about those superhero
guys. I dunno, maybe it was just wishful thinking. I'm too fucking nervous to just ask him, point
blank."

Stan started laughing nervously.

"And you know the funniest thing about all this? Even if I did get to date Kyle, even if I was able
to kiss him and fuck him and call him mine, it'd have to be in secret. I'm terrified about anyone
knowing about all of this, Clyde. I'm terrified to come out. I'm afraid that it would ruin my whole
reputation, and I'm not ready to take that risk."

"It sounds like you have a lot on your mind, my dude," said Clyde as he rolled onto his back. "What
happened between us tonight, and everything you've told me since, I promise it stays between us."

"Thanks, Clyde." Stan turned off the bedside lamp once more. He then flipped over onto his side
and curled up next to Clyde. "For all of this. For understanding, and for being my friend."

Clyde stared up into the darkness. He felt sick to his stomach, knowing that his promise was a lie.

Chapter End Notes

Thank you for your continued support!

Social media: @otherluces on Tumblr and Twitter; Luces#5969 on Discord

Timeline: October 5
 Kenny x Wendy
Chapter Summary

If you choose to skip the smut in this chapter, it starts after Kenny says "Promise?"
and ends after the final line break.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Kenny often contemplated about how he'd always had a knack for ending up in unexpected
situations. There was that time back in elementary school when he made his way onto an active
Nascar track, and lived to tell the tale. There was that weekend that he, Stan, Kyle, and Cartman
actually made some money as a fake pan flute band. Then there was that other time that he was
able to go to Hawaii for free as Butters' emotional support animal of sorts. He didn't know how he
managed to get into these situations. He never actively went looking for them. They always just
seemed to fall into his lap.

Not unlike his current situation.

He felt a light slap on his cheek. "Hey, don't lose focus. I feel like I'm doing all of the work here!"

He supposed he should have known better than to let his mind wander while making out with
Wendy Testaburger. She was perched on his lap, sandwiched between his chest and his steering
wheel, and trying not to accidentally honk the horn while she grinded on his thighs.

But seriously though, how did he get here?

A twenty minute car ride never felt as long as when it took place in an uncomfortable silence.
Kenny badly wanted to cut through that thick wall of dead air with his usual charm, but given how
Wendy had reacted to him earlier in the evening, he had second thoughts. He glanced over at her
on the passenger side of his truck's bench seat. She was resting her chin on her hand, staring out
the window into the darkness. Maybe the silence was exactly what she needed.

After five more minutes, Kenny felt like he was going to burst. He had to say something or he would
explode.

"Stan tonight...the audacity of that man, am I right?" he said, trying to lighten the mood.

Nothing from Wendy.

"Though I'm being awfully generous calling Stan a man, especially after all of that. He's my friend
and all, but tonight he was more little boy than a man."
More silence.

He was about to speak up again when Wendy finally spoke.

"Can you not talk about Stan right now, please?" she said, softly.

"Yeah...sorry. I just thought maybe you wanted to talk about it, and then I thought maybe talking
trash about Stan would help make you more relaxed and willing to open up."

"I really don't want to talk right now. Please," she begged.

"Okay. Understood."

Wendy sighed and rubbed her forehead. He wasn't helping her situation, and he certainly wasn't
helping their already tattered relationship. He turned his attention to the road. The least he could
do was get her home quickly and safely, and then he could go home and try to forget today ever
happened.

When he finally turned into her family's driveway, he put the truck in park and turned it off.

He lightly drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. "Well...here we are, safe and sound. Sorry
the night didn't go quite as you had planned."

He paused to wait for her to get out of the truck, but she didn't move.

"Wendy?"

"No," she said.

"Huh?"

She sat up straight. "No. Tonight does not end like this. I won't let him ruin my Friday night."

"Okay, that's cool. Do you need me to drop you off somewhere?"

"No." She unbuckled her seat belt and turned her whole body to face Kenny. "Let's make out."

Kenny was taken aback by her proposal. He never in a million years would have guessed that
those words would come out of her mouth at that moment.

"Uh…what?"

"I said I needed some fun tonight. Isn't this one of the things you're famous for? Physical fun?"

Kenny pursed his lips. "I mean, yeah, I guess. But you hate me, so why would you want to make out
with me?"

"I don't hate you."

"Bullshit. You've been weirdly cold to me so far this season. I thought we were friends. Maybe not
the closest of friends, but still. I don't get it. What the fuck did I do?"

Wendy sighed and looked down at her hands while she twiddled her thumbs. "I suppose I have
been a bit of a bitch to you lately. I'm not sure why exactly, but I think it's because I'm so focused
on school and band and college applications this year...and when I see you laughing and goofing
off over in the drumline, it makes me upset. It makes it look like you don't take things seriously
and...and I can get very judgmental…and apparently I take it out on you."

Kenny crossed his arms. "You know that I'm not the slacker kid I was freshman year, right? I take
band, and music in general, very seriously. But I also like to enjoy myself. I can laugh and fuck
around with the drumline because I know that they know when I say it's time to get serious? When
I say it's time to focus and practice? We're gonna get it done."

Wendy nodded. "You're right. I need to be better about processing and adjusting my own biases.
It's not fair to you or the other drummers." She lifted her head and looked him in the eyes. "I'm
sorry, Kenny."

"Thank you." He unfolded his arms, moving his right arm to rest on the back of the bench seat.
"So, uh, I know that was a bit of a downer and all, but do you still wanna make out?"

It turned out that Wendy was as skilled at kissing as she was at everything else. Kenny felt that he
shouldn't be surprised by that, but honestly, he was. He had always seen her as the repressed
preppie type, too busy with studying and getting straight A's to be worried about engaging in
physical endeavors. But that wasn't the case at all.

She ran her fingers through his hair while she gasped for air against his lips. She rocked her hips
against his lap, creating just enough friction to keep him semi-hard. Her neck had just a hint of
flowery fragrance, enticing Kenny to bury his face there and leave a trail of kisses and light nips
along the way. Her occasional moans made him only want to kiss her harder.

Now and then I think of all the times you screwed me over…

Kenny could feel her phone vibrating in her pocket.

"Hey," he mumbled against her lips. "Do you wanna answer that? We can put this on pause."

"It's just Stan, so I don't give a fuck."

Kenny laughed as Wendy moved to kiss his neck. He liked this Wendy. Why couldn't she show
this side more often? Did Stan get to see this side of her all the time? He was beginning to
understand why they had been together for so long when they never seemed like they had much in
common.

"Kenny," she sighed into the crook of his neck. "Would you like to have sex with me?"

Kenny felt his cock twitch. He had never thought about sex with Wendy, even as a passing
thought. However, given certain recent developments, he was definitely not going to pass up the
opportunity.

"That's not a trick question, right?" he asked.

Wendy actually giggled. "No, dummy. I'm not joking. This has definitely been fun, but now I'm
horny, and when I'm horny, I can't focus on anything else until I come. So that's happening either
way, whether I fuck you or myself."
"I know you probably think you're being matter of fact right now, but that was hot as hell."

She got off of his lap and opened the truck door to get out.

"So are you coming or what?"

"Fuck yeah, I am."

As they approached the front door, Kenny had some questions.

"So, like, are your parents not home or something?"

"No, they're home," she said.

"And they're just...cool with you bringing over some guy to fuck while they're around?"

Wendy gave him the side eye. "Please. You don't think I already have a plan for this?"

She opened the front door and stepped inside. Her parents were sitting on the sofa in the living
room, watching a movie.

"Hey, mom. Hey, dad," she said.

"Oh hey, sweetie! I'm surprised to see you back so early," said Mrs. Testaburger. "And who is that
with you? Is that…Kenny McCormick?"

Kenny shuffled into the house and closed the door behind him. He had never felt so uncomfortable
in his entire life. Driving in silence with an angry Wendy was way better than this. Typically
whenever he was invited over someone's house to smash, they were the only ones in the house.
Behind the school and in the woods near Stark's Pond were popular spots when houses were
occupied, but Kenny didn't think that Wendy would be into that sort of venue. He had never had to
deal with awkward small talk with a partner's family before, and he was drawing a blank on what
to do.

"Uh...yeah...hi," he said. He raised his hand and did a little wave in the Testaburger's direction.

"Stan was being inappropriate at the dance, so I decided to leave," said Wendy. She moved up to
her parents and gave each of them a kiss on the cheek. "I asked Kenny here to give me a ride home.
We're going to go upstairs and listen to the band's recording from the last competition, and he's
going to help me make a list of areas we need to work on for the next one."

Kenny just nodded in agreement, hoping the look on his face didn't make it obvious that he was
hearing all of this for the first time.

"Okay, sweetie. Don't work too hard, and don't stay up too late," said Mr. Testaburger as they
returned to their movie.

Wendy waved Kenny up the stairs. He quickly followed, not wanting to accidentally get caught up
in more potential parental small talk.

"That was freaking smooth, Testaburger!" he grinned once they were outside her room.

"I'm just that good, McCormick," she smirked, opening her door.

Wendy walked into her room and made a beeline for her desk. She put down her bag and
immediately turned on her computer. She opened up a playlist of the band's competition recording
and set it to repeat. Once she adjusted the sound to a high enough level to ward off her parents, she
began to remove her clothes.

Kenny closed the door behind him and looked around. He stood in awe at the perfection that was
her bedroom. It was so neat and organized. It looked like she actually used things in the ways they
were intended. There weren't any loose papers lying around. Dirty clothes weren't sticking out of
half opened desk drawers. Her bed—her bed was like something out of an interior decoration
magazine. It was meticulously made, with crisp hospital corners and the blanket pulled taut across
the top.

"Your room isn't real," he said. "You really are a perfectionist. I mean, your fucking bed alone. I
don't feel comfortable ruining that."

Wendy pulled the elastic out of her loose bun and shook out her hair. She was down to just panties
and a bra. Her underwear was much more practical than Red's had been. Basic cotton with no frilly
nonsense, but the royal purple color showed a bit of her personality. She turned around and began
to walk toward Kenny.

"I agree," she said. "That's why we're not doing it on my bed."

She sat down in the middle of the plush carpet floor and looked up at Kenny.

"My bed is my temple, and it'll not be sullied by my carnal urges. Also it's squeaky as hell and my
parents will definitely know that I'm having sex."

"Even with the music this loud?" asked Kenny.

"I don't know for certain, but I'm really not interested in finding out tonight." She stretched out her
legs and leaned back on her hands. "You coming?"

Kenny pulled his t-shirt up over his head and tossed it to the side. "I mean, I'm not right now, but I
plan to be later."

"Oh my god, stop," she said, rolling her eyes. "You sound like Stan right now."

Kenny got down on his knees and crawled toward Wendy, a dopey grin on his face. "Okay, Miss
Testaburger, I'll be good."

Her eyes narrowed. "Don't you start playing with me, Kenny. I swear, I'll punish you if you keep
this up."

"Promise?"

His grin grew bigger when Wendy reached forward and grabbed his shoulders, pulling him close to
her. She planted her lips against his, quickly nipping at his bottom lip to show him she was serious.
He groaned at the sensation, happy to let her take control. One of her hands slid up the back of his
neck and into his hair. Her nails scratched against his scalp, sending a shiver up his spine.

He felt her breasts press against his chest. He could already feel her erect nipples through the thin
fabric of her unlined bra. His hands slowly roamed from her waist, up her back. He was about to
unhook the clasp when Wendy put a hand on his arm.

"Wait. I'll get it," she said, breaking away from the kiss.

She made quick work of her bra, sending it over toward Kenny's shirt. Kenny knelt in front of her,
smiling. She noticed him staring and instantly became suspicious.

"What is it? What's the matter?" she asked.

Kenny smiled even bigger. "Nothing. Just enjoying the view."

"W-what?!" she stuttered. Her cheeks flushed under his gaze. "Don't be dumb, Kenny."

Kenny never knew how embarrassed Wendy got when she was complimented on her body. It was
awfully cute.

"I'm not being dumb," he said, leaning forward on his hands and knees. "You are beautiful, Miss
Testaburger. From your soft black hair and smooth skin, to your petite breasts and slender hips,
from your kickass marching band legs, to your enormous brain."

He crawled closer to Wendy, causing her to lean back further and further until she was lying flat on
her back with Kenny over her.

"You said you wanted to have fun, right?" He leaned in close to her face. "Then let me show you
how I have fun," he whispered.

He winked at her and she promptly rolled her eyes. He chuckled quietly to himself as he worked
his way down her body, leaving a trail of nips, licks, and kisses in his wake. She might have
outwardly scoffed at his particular brand of charm, but the flush from her cheeks had spread across
her body, so it seemed like she was at least enjoying it to a certain degree.

His lips brushed against a particularly sensitive area on her stomach. Her hips bucked up in spite of
herself.

"What do we have here?" he teased.

He placed several kisses around the same area, managing to pull some soft moans out of Wendy.
He slowly grew rougher with his mouth, dragging his teeth across her sensitive skin. Her moans
became louder, the muscles in her abdomen tensing and relaxing, her back arching like she was
trying to push her body closer to his mouth. Kenny relished in her reaction.

After a moment, he decided to grant her mercy and give her a break. "Talk about an erogenous
zone. Hey Wendy, have you ever been able to come just from doing that?"

"Mm, no. Trust me, it's been tried, many...many times. It just really gets me going."

Kenny ran his hands down the side of her hips, his fingertips slipping under the hem of her panties.

"May I?"

She nodded and lifted her hips. He made quick work of removing her panties. When he balled them
up in his hand to toss over by her bra, he felt a warm wetness. He smiled and scooted back so that
he could lie down on his stomach, between her legs.

"I guess it really does get you going. The evidence proved your hypothesis."

As he moved his arms so that they were wrapped around her thighs, he swore he heard Wendy
moan. He raised his eyebrow. Did she really…? For that? He decided to try it again, just to make
sure he hadn't been hearing things.

"Uh, the analysis is pretty solid, but I still need to write a long, thorough discussion of the results."
"Fuuuck…" Wendy clearly moaned. "Now you're speaking my language," she said with a grin.

Apparently Wendy Testaburger didn't like dirty talk in bed—she liked nerdy talk. Kenny didn't
have time to think in any depth about this newly discovered information, but it made him further
question how she had been with Stan for so long.

"That's all I got," he laughed. He kissed her inner thigh and smiled against her skin. "But now I'll
show you how to speak my language."

"Oh my god, you're so corn-nghhhhh."

Kenny slowly ran his tongue up between the wet folds of her pussy, delighting in her inability to
finish her sentence. He buried his face between her legs, lapping gently at her clit. He knew she
was already quite aroused, but he wanted to gauge her reactions before he just went at one hundred
percent.

He looked up from his position to find Wendy with her eyes closed. Her breathing was slow and
full, like she was sighing with each exhale. Her hands casually kneaded at her breasts, the index
finger and thumb of each hand occasionally pinching a nipple and giving it a little tug. He kept his
eyes fixed on her as he began to flick the tip of his tongue across her clit. Her breaths grew a little
faster. Her thighs began to move ever-so-slightly against his arms as she subtly rolled her hips.

Kenny closed his eyes and focused on the feel of her pussy in his mouth—her warm wetness, her
scent, her taste.

Wendy's hand slid down her stomach and stroked the top of Kenny's head. Her fingers grabbed at
his hair, tugging slightly. She pressed down with her hand while she continued to roll her hips.
Kenny moaned at the sensation. He decided to give in to Wendy, letting her take control while he
enjoyed the ride. He heard her grow from quietly whimpering to full, throaty moaning. He felt her
thighs twitch and tremble as she roughly ground her clit against his tongue.

After a few minutes, Wendy abruptly stopped. She let go of Kenny's hair and tapped her hands on
his arms. He pulled his mouth away and relaxed his grip around her thighs. She wiggled out of his
grasp and sat up.

Confused, Kenny pulled himself up onto his knees and cocked his head to the side. "Is something
wrong? Are you finished? Did you come already?" he asked.

Wendy stood up off the floor and walked around her bed to her nightstand.

"Nope, to all three," she replied. "I've never been able to come from oral."

Kenny watched her as she swiftly opened the middle drawer, reached in, and pulled out a few
items. Walking back to their spot on the floor, he noticed that she was carrying a condom packet, a
bottle of lube, and something else that Kenny couldn't get a good look at.

"I can only orgasm when I'm on top, and when I have this with me." She held up a tube of lipstick.
"And trust me when I say that you'll know when it happens."

"Lipstick? I don't really get why you need that to come."

"You'll see," she said. She tossed the condom packet at him. "Put it on and get on your back."

"Yes, miss!"
While he followed her orders, he watched as she opened the lube, squirted a dollop onto her
fingers, and rubbed them over her clit. She then opened the lipstick and placed the cover and the
lube bottle on her desk before returning to Kenny. She knelt down next to him and threw her leg
over his body so that she was straddling his hips, facing him. She took his cock in her hand and
lined it up to her entrance.

Kenny watched as Wendy gradually lowered her hips down to meet his own. Watching his cock
slowly disappear inside of her was torture. He so badly wanted to thrust up into her. He wanted that
immediate relief. However, he also had known Wendy for years, and he had a feeling that when
she was on top, she was firmly in control. He held back on his urges and let her show him what she
needed.

She leaned down to kiss Kenny, gently rocking her hips back and forth as she got used to the
feeling of him inside of her.

"Ready?" she asked.

"You said you wanted fun. Well, call me your plaything," he grinned.

She rolled her eyes at him.

"Okay, seriously. Yes, Wendy. I'm ready. I want you to feel good."

She nodded. The lipstick started to buzz and Kenny finally understood. She pressed it between her
legs as she began to roll her hips up and down.

It didn't take long for her to start moaning again, and as she found a steady rhythm, they became
louder and louder. He understood why Wendy would want to fuck on the floor if she had a squeaky
bed, but he found it ironic that she thought that the music was loud enough to drown out her moans.
No, these weren't moans anymore. These were screams. Kenny's face flushed in embarrassment. It
was almost too obscene, even for him.

She used her free hand to roughly grab at one of his wrists and pull his hand to her chest. She
placed his palm against one of her breasts, covering his hand with hers and kneading her hand into
his. He quickly got the hint. As he took over massaging her breast, he brought his other hand up to
the other one, but she then guided that hand down to her hip.

"Squeeze...please!" she said loudly in between pants.

Kenny did as he was told, digging his fingers into her soft flesh. He began to flex his own pelvis
muscles, thrusting up just a little to meet her when she thrust down. He felt his own pleasure begin
to build. Her movements became erratic as it looked like she was nearing climax. He just had to
hold back until she got hers. The goal was showing Wendy a good time, and he still stood by that.

Wendy hadn't been lying when she said he would know when she was going to come. She took her
free hand and clutched at his forearm in front of her. She squeezed so hard that it started to hurt,
and he decided that he wouldn't be surprised if he had some light bruising in the morning. Her
thighs began to tremble, and within a few seconds, she reached the summit.

"Yes yes yes! Fuck me, Kyle! Fuck me!"

Kenny sat against the wall. One leg was stretched out, the other bent at the knee. His head was
rolled back, looking up at the ceiling. The used condom dangled loosely from his flaccid cock. He
hadn't yet bothered to clean up.

Wendy was curled into a ball under her desk. Her head was buried in hands and knees and it
sounded like she was chanting something muffled that Kenny couldn't quite make out.

It had been like this for a couple of minutes.

Kenny sighed and started to get up onto his feet. "Well, I'm going to go clean up, I guess," he said
to himself as he headed into her personal bathroom. He knew that Wendy couldn't hear him right
now.

He had gotten his, but it had maybe been the weirdest orgasm of his entire life. When Wendy
came, she had continued to slam her hips down around him as her pelvic wall tightened up. That
was enough to send him over the edge. However, he hadn't expected her to scream out another
guy's name while in the throes of ecstasy. That put the entire moment in a weird context, and
ultimately ruined the experience.

Once he was cleaned up, he walked back into Wendy's room. He noticed that she had moved from
her previous location. Now she was sitting on the floor next to her bed, her knees pulled up to her
chest, and her arms hugging them tight. She was just sort of staring into the middle distance. She
didn't say anything as he walked past her and took back his seat against the wall.

"So...do you wanna talk about it?" he asked.

Wendy sat silent and unblinking.

Kenny let the silence sit between them for the second time that night. After about ten minutes of it,
he just couldn't bear it anymore. He got up and walked over to his pile of discarded clothes to get
dressed.

"Well...thank you for...this." He cringed as the words came out of his mouth. "I guess I'll get out of
here and let you get some sleep." He headed for her bedroom door. "See you around."

"Wait."

He stopped with his hand on the doorknob. He turned around and saw Wendy looking at him.

"Please don't go." Her eyes dropped to the floor in front of her. "I don't want to be alone right now."

Kenny stared back at her. She was still naked, curled up into that ball. She looked so vulnerable.
He dropped his hand from the doorknob.

"Okay. I'll stay as long as you need me to."

"Thank you," she said quietly.

Kenny looked around the room, uncertain of what he should do in this situation. He looked at her
bed and got an idea. He walked around her and pulled the perfectly pressed blanket off of her bed.
Maybe she'd be pissed at him later, but he felt that it was the right thing to do right now.

He moved over to where she was sitting and wrapped the blanket around her shoulders. She
hummed quietly, letting go of her knees to grab the edges of the blanket and pull them fully around
her body.
"Thank you...again," she said. "Please sit down." She reached out a hand and patted it on the carpet
next to her.

"I hate feeling humiliated," she said once Kenny was sitting next to her.

"That's understandable," he said. "I'm sorry that you're feeling that way."

Wendy nodded. "Yeah. So am I." She sighed. "You know...that's the real reason I'm so upset about
Stan. Cause of the humiliation that can come with a break-up, especially of a long-term
relationship. And especially when the one doing the breaking up is one of the captains of the
football team. And especially when that captain of the football team also is notorious for getting
drunk and acting a fool at social events."

Kenny pursed his lips and nodded slowly. That certainly was Stan.

"So...you're not actually upset that he broke up with you then?" asked Kenny.

Wendy was quiet for a moment. "No. I'm not," she whispered. She pulled the blanket up over her
head and wrapped it around herself like a cloak. "Honestly, it's probably one of the best things
that's happened to me so far this year. Because I can't stop thinking about Kyle."

"Please don't hate me for asking this, but...you didn't actually cheat on Stan with Kyle...right?"

Wendy's face flushed. "No. No, I didn't. But...I did think about it. Only in fantasy, though. I never
actually came up with some plan to seduce Kyle while I was still with Stan. Just...when I was
fooling around with Stan, I was imagining I was with Kyle. When I was masturbating, I was
imagining that I was fucking Kyle. When Stan said he was breaking up with me because I cheated
on him with Kyle, for a moment I thought that he had been able to read my mind, or that maybe I
had said something about him in my sleep."

"So when did you realize you weren't in love with Stan anymore?"

"Never. I still love him. It's just...I don't think we're right for each other, in the end. I have so much
more in common with Kyle, and we've been having a really strong connection recently. Kyle has
ambition. He has a plan for what he wants to do after high school, and I love that. I need to be with
someone who can keep up with me after high school, in college and in our careers. Stan...he doesn't
seem to have any drive. I think he still thinks that he'll be able to play college ball and then get
drafted by a professional team, play for a few seasons, and then live off of that money for the rest
of his life."

Wendy closed her eyes and slowly shook her head. "I always believed that he must have some
drive and passion in him somewhere, but whenever I'd try to bring it up, he'd get pissy at me. So
eventually...I just got tired of fighting the gut feeling that we aren't a good match anymore. I'm just
lucky that Stan was the one who did the breaking up. I don't think I'd have ever had the courage to
actually go through with it, for fear of hurting him. But now I'm free to finally ask out Kyle. And
I'm nervous...but really excited."

Kenny noticed that at some point while she was talking, she had begun to cry. Her eyes were shiny
and bloodshot, and there were tear streaks running down her cheeks. She had had a rough day and
he decided it was time for her to finally get some rest.

"Come on. Let's get you into bed," said Kenny. He helped Wendy up off the floor and up into her
bed.

"Can you please stay the night?" she sniffed. "I could really use some cuddling tonight...if you're
 okay with that."

Kenny smiled. "I would love to cuddle with you, Miss Testaburger."

Kenny curled up behind Wendy under the covers. He wrapped one arm around her waist and used
the other to stroke her hair.

"Thank you again, Kenny."

"You're welcome. So...friends again?"

"Yeah. Friends again."

Chapter End Notes

Thank you for your continued support!

Social media: @otherluces on Tumblr and Twitter; Luces#5969 on Discord

Timeline: October 5
 The Morning After, and the Morning After the Morning After
Chapter Notes

My somewhat failed attempt at hosting Clenny Week again is what led to me finally
finishing this chapter that I started somewhere back in October. >.< Other writings, as
well as other interests, got in the way of writing, then I burned myself out in December
and January, but here I am, trying to get back into the groove of this fic. My idiot sons
are extra dumb and for the Creek fans, there is a fair amount of shameless flirting
between them in this chapter. So I hope you enjoy after such a long wait.

To those of you who still read and support this story, despite my awful updating, I
thank you from the bottom of my heart.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Clyde stirred as a car door slammed shut outside the bedroom window. His close friend and most
recent sexual conquest felt him move and unconsciously pulled him closer to his chest. Clyde felt
warm and safe in Stan's arms as he let sleep wash over him once more.

A loud knock at the door made his whole body jolt awake.

"We're home, Stan." Mrs. Marsh sounded exhausted and irritable—understandable given that she
had been up all night at the hospital with Randy.

"Dude! Wake up!" whispered Clyde as he sat up in bed. He frantically tapped Stan’s shoulder. "It's
your mom!"

"Whaa?" mumbled Stan, still half asleep.

"Your mom is outside your door, dude!"

"Fuck!" whispered Stan as he scrambled out of bed, fully realizing the severity of the situation.

Stan grabbed Clyde's pants off the floor and flung them onto the bed. "Quick, throw these on in
case she comes in! I can not have her see you in my bed with your dick out!"

"Stan?" Sharon knocked again.

Clyde grabbed his pants and jumped out of bed. He fumbled around as he tried to get one leg in,
only to realize he was putting the pants on backwards.

"Yeah mom, I'm up," said Stan.

"Good. Don't forget to eat some breakfast before you leave for the SATs."

"Wait, the what?"

"Stan,” Mrs. Marsh sighed.

They heard the click of the doorknob begin to turn. Stan looked at Clyde with desperation. Clyde
quickly yanked up his pants and snuck over to stand behind the bedroom door right as it was
opening. He prayed that Mrs. Marsh didn’t walk in and close the door behind her. Stan would
never forgive him if they were caught.

Mrs. Marsh opened the door and stepped forward, staying in the doorway. The door stopped inches
from where Clyde stood with his pants still unbuttoned.

“I reminded you about it yesterday morning. I told you not to stay out at the dance too long because
you had to get up early.”

“I’m sorry, mom. I totally forgot. I’ve been having a tough time the past few days, with the break-
up and Homecoming and everything. My mind hasn’t been very clear. Maybe it would be a good
idea if I just skipped—”

“Absolutely not, Stan,” she interrupted. “The stupid test is fifty dollars and we can’t afford to
throw that money away. Especially once your dumbass father’s medical bill comes in.”

Clyde watched Stan’s eyes. He was obviously upset that his weak plea didn’t work, but he also
looked like he was sympathetic to her reasoning.

“Look, I know you’ve had a lot on your mind recently. Just...please go and take the test. Do your
best, and think of it like a practice test. If you don’t do well this time, there’s another one in a
couple of weeks.”

Stan nodded slowly. “Okay fine,” he mumbled.

“Thank you, Stan. I love you, and I’m proud of you,” she said.

“Hey Sharon? Sharon?!”

She sighed, closed her eyes and furrowed her brow. Clyde could sense her growing migraine
through the door.

“I swear, it’s like taking care of a fucking newborn.”

She took her leave down the hall to her and Randy’s bedroom, closing the door behind her. Clyde
let out the breath he had been holding.

Stan started to rummage through the drawer of his bedside table, grabbing a bottle of ibuprofen. He
promptly dropped it to the ground as he covered his mouth with his hand and sprinted out of the
room to the bathroom.

Clyde finished getting dressed, checked the hallway for any signs of Stan’s parents, and quickly
left the house. He sat in E Honda and texted Stan that he was waiting for him. He looked over at
the shoddy parking job that Mrs. Marsh had done—halfway in the driveway and halfway on their
lawn. Clyde had been wondering why she hadn’t mentioned the car outside their house that wasn’t
Stan’s, but she had clearly been too tired to process anything around her.

Stan finally exited the house and hopped into the passenger seat.

“You good, bro?” asked Clyde.

“Yeah. Yeah, I don’t think there’s anything else left in my body. I took a couple ibuprofen with
some sips of Gatorade, so hopefully that will get rid of the headache long enough for me to bullshit
my way through this test.”

“I do not pity you, dude. I’ll drop you off at the school, and you can drive yourself home after,
right? Here,” Clyde reached into his pocket and pulled out Stan’s keys, tossing them onto his lap.

Stan stared at Clyde. His eyes narrowed.

Clyde glanced over at Stan, confused. “Dude, why are you looking at me like that? Is it the keys?
Sorry I had to take them away from you last night, but...you know why.”

“No…” Stan said slowly. “You’re not taking the test?”

“Uh...no? Why would I?” Clyde laughed. “It sounds boring as hell.”

“Because, like every college in the country requires you to take it? And you’re always talking
about wanting to play for the Big Ten? Like, your dad didn’t sign you up for it, dude? That just
seems weird to me.”

Clyde kept driving. Stan words slowly worked through his head as they neared the school. His face
gradually dropped from a big smile as reality hit him in waves.

“Oh my god, dude. My dad did sign me up for this. Like, over the summer. I haven’t prepared at
all. I am so fucked. ”

Clyde clenched his jaw and focused on the road. The only thought that gave him any sense of relief
was that maybe he and Stan weren’t the only ones in this predicament.

Beepbeepbeep! Beepbeepbeep! Beepbeepbeep!

Kenny groaned and rolled over, pulling the comforter along with him. He felt the bed shift next to
him, and then the obnoxious beeping stopped. A few seconds later, he felt the soft warmth of
another body press up against his back. He sighed happily and let himself gently fall back into
sleep’s loving embrace.

Kenny’s eyes popped open once again. The sunlight was filtering in through the room’s lavender
curtains. He turned over and came face to face with a sleeping Wendy. She looked so peaceful, and
the trail of drool running down her cheek was awfully endearing. For a person who put so much
work into perfecting her personal presentation to the world, it was nice to see her messy, vulnerable
side.

Kenny propped up his head onto his hand and smiled as he watched her sleep. After a few minutes,
the sunlight danced across Wendy’s face and her eyelids began to flutter. She opened up her eyes,
squinting at the onslaught of light, but she smiled once she realized Kenny was looking at her.

“Good morning,” she said.

“Morning,” he replied.

“How did you sleep?”

“Great. I always sleep really well after a good fuck,” he said with a laugh.

Wendy averted her eyes. Kenny’s heart sank.

“We don’t need to talk about last night ever again, if you want,” he said. “We can pretend it never
happened.”

“No. No, it’s fine,” she said, sitting up in bed. “I’m just embarrassed.”

She took a moment to find the right words. Kenny noticed a rosy pink rise in the top of her cheeks
while he watched her and waited.

“It’s not like me to do any of that. The whole bring a guy home and sleep with him thing. I’ve only
ever had sex with Stan, so...last night just feels like a lot, you know? I suppose I’m still processing
it all this morning.”

“You take the time you need. And I can be discreet. This doesn’t have to leave this room.”

Wendy sighed. “Fuck discretion. Stan is already telling everyone I cheated on him with Kyle. Who
cares if they know I slept with you, too.”

“Wouldn’t you be worried that it would affect your chances with Kyle?” asked Kenny.

Wendy laughed without joy. “I don’t really know what I’m going to do about Kyle right now. After
the way Stan and I acted around him last night, I don’t think he’d want anything to do with either of
us.” She groaned. “Rehearsal on Monday is going to be so uncomfortable.”

She glanced over at her calendar on the wall. “At least I have the weekend to try to distract myself
from this mess.”

Wendy’s eyes widened as she looked at the calendar. “Oh no. Oh no no no no !”

“What?” asked Kenny.

Wendy ripped the blankets off of her body and vaulted off of her bed. She ran over to her closet and
threw the door open. As she rifled through her clothes, she just kept chanting “nonononono!” over
and over again.

Kenny sat up and scooted over to her side of the bed. He got up and walked over to look at her
calendar himself, hoping for some hint as to what was wrong since Wendy was in no condition to
use her words right now. He looked at October 6th and saw that Wendy had written three large
letters:

SAT

“Fuck!” he yelled. He scrambled to find his clothes from the previous night and put them on as fast
as he could.

“What time is it? Oh god, please don’t tell me it started already!”

Kenny hopped on one foot, trying to keep his balance as he hastily put on his pants. He moved
over to his phone on the desk and checked the time.
“It’s just about quarter past seven.”

“Shit! We gotta go now! They say to be there no later than quarter of eight, and they close the
doors at eight! I can’t miss this test, Kenny!”

“Yeah, neither can I, Wendy! It’s not like fifty bucks is something I can just throw away!”

He shoved his feet into his sneakers, not bothering with socks. He grabbed his phone and his
wallet, shoved them into his jeans pocket, and headed for the bedroom door.

“I’ll go start the truck while you finish,” he said.

Wendy nodded. “Don’t let my parents see you, okay? They don’t know you spent the night.”

Kenny nodded and disappeared out the door.

Kenny quietly padded down the stairs, careful not to make any sound and wake Wendy’s parents.
Once he reached the bottom of the stairs, he slowly made his way across the living room floor and
over to the front door.

“Did you sleep well, Kenny?”

Kenny froze in his tracks. He slowly turned around to find both Mr. and Mrs. Testaburger sitting in
their kitchen, sipping coffee and reading the newspaper. They stared at him, seemingly eyeing him
up and down like they were appraising him.

“I’m glad Wendy has rebounded so quickly after Stan dumped her,” said Mrs. Testuburger. “I just
don’t like seeing her hung up on a guy for a long time after a break-up. She can be a real pill.”

Kenny opened his mouth to ask how they knew, but Wendy’s parents beat him to the punch.

“How’d we know you two spent the night with each other?” asked Mr. Testaburger. “We figured
out a long time ago that when Wendy plays music as loud as she did last night, she’s having sex.”

Wendy’s mother slowly nodded her head. “She thinks it helps hide the noise, but she’s a very loud
young woman and...well, we’re talking to you about it right now, so obviously it doesn’t.”

Kenny had never felt more mortified in his entire life. The color had drained from his face, and
there was no way Wendy’s parents hadn’t noticed the look of agony on his face. Nothing could
make this moment worse.

“Tough break with her calling out another young man’s name, though,” said Mr. Testaburger.

Kenny’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head. This was not happening.

“I know,” Mrs. Testaburger replied to her husband. “And Kyle of all people. That’s going to make
things complicated for our Wendy. I wonder if that has anything to do with Stan breaking up with
her.”

Mr. Testaburger shook his head in disappointment. “No more pain, no more drama.”

Kenny realized that Wendy’s parents weren’t paying attention to him anymore. They were so
invested in their daughter’s relationship drama that they didn’t notice when Kenny began to sneak
out of the house once more. He had made it out to his truck and turned over the engine when
Wendy finally flew out of the front door.
“Okay, gun it, Kenny!” she shouted as she hopped into the truck and buckled up. “I mean, go fast,
but not so fast that we get pulled over.”

“Aye aye, captain,” said Kenny. His tires screeched as he peeled out of the Testaburger’s driveway.

A chilly breeze rustled the leaves on the trees outside the school. Craig shivered and shoved his
hands into his pockets. It was the time of year when the weather wasn’t entirely sure what it
wanted to be. It was too warm to have worn a jacket, but the occasional gust of wind was cold
enough to make you wish you had.

He shuffled his way to the main entrance as fast as his apathy would let him. He spotted Timmy,
Jimmy, and Kevin grouped up outside, chatting amongst themselves.

“Hey guys,” he said, nodding his head once as he approached them.

“Hey Craig,” said Kevin. “Did you hear about Stan’s dad? You know, after...the situation last
night?”

Craig rolled his eyes. “Seriously, Kev? How would I have heard about Stan’s dad in the ten hours
since last night?” He paused and thought for a moment. “He didn’t die or anything, right?”

“No, thankfuh-fuh...thankfully!” said Jimmy.

“Timmy!” said Timmy. “Kelly Pinkertonfurter’s mom is an emergency nurse, and Kelly overheard
her mom gossiping with her dad about how Mr. Marsh came into the ER last night, plastered and
with a concussion.”

“Doesn’t that violate HIPPA laws and shit?” asked Craig.

“This is South Park, Craig. Since when does anyone care about following laws?” asked Timmy.

“Touché, good sir,” said Craig.

Tweek took the final drag on his cigarette and dropped it to the ground. He would’ve liked to have
another to further calm his nerves, but he knew he wouldn’t have time to make it worth it. He dug
the heel of his boot into the smoldering butt.

Fucking standardized tests. He hated them, but he knew he had to go along with the bullshit so he
could get out of South Park, and Park County in general. Every student in the school knew that
their best chance to leave was by getting into college or joining the military. Tweek would rather
deepthroat a pile of rusty tetanus nails than join the military, so college it was. He and Kenny had
discussed many times how they wanted to try to go to the same school together and both get in as
music majors. However, Tweek knew that wouldn’t happen—though he would never admit it to
Kenny. He knew he wasn’t as good a musician as Kenny was, and to be frank, the whole idea of
making sure that both of them were accepted into the same music program was just way too much
fucking pressure.
Tweek sighed and stretched his arms up over his head. Kenny hadn’t shown up yet, and he didn’t
really feel like waiting for him. He knew Kenny sometimes showed up fashionably late—not
because he was trying to be cool, but because his clunker of a truck often didn’t want to start up.
Reluctantly, Tweek turned toward the main entrance, deciding it was better to just go inside than to
stay outside alone.

The corners of his mouth turned up when he saw Craig standing by the entrance, animatedly
chatting with Park County High’s resident tech bros.

“So Mr. Stoic can be passionate about stuff after all,” he snorted under his breath.

Tweek stood and watched Craig. It looked like he was having a lively debate, probably over some
weird science stuff. His face was full of life. His arms wildly moved around as he spoke. It was
absolutely endearing. Tweek lost track of time as he stared, only deciding to finally head into the
school after a cold gust left his bare arms covered in goosebumps.

Tweek approached the main entrance, his eyes still locked onto Craig. Craig was too distracted to
notice him. He walked right up behind Craig and leaned in.

“It’s nice to see you this excited about something that isn’t me,” he whispered into Craig’s ear.

Jimmy, Kevin, and Timmy went silent, eyebrows raised as they observed Craig’s cheeks quickly
become bright red.

Tweek chuckled and slapped Craig on the back. “That’s two. See ya inside, cutie.”

The boys’ eyes watched Tweek as he disappeared into the school. Jimmy was the first to speak.

“Wh-wh-wha-what the fuck was that about?” he asked.

Craig was almost too quick with a response. “He said he knew about my t-shirt sending Stan’s dad
to the hospital. I don’t want that to get around the school. You know how gossip works around
here.”

Timmy crossed his arms and cocked his head to the side. “That’s plausible, but it doesn’t explain
why Tweek just called you cutie.”

A sudden screeching sound made them spin around abruptly, forgetting what they were just talking
about. They watched as Clyde’s car loudly peeled into the parking lot like an angel of mercy
coming to save Craig from having to explain his flirtatious history with Tweek. Not even a moment
later, they could hear Kenny’s truck chugging along in the distance.

“Where’s the f-f-fire?” Jimmy laughed.

“For real.” Kevin checked the time on his phone. “Oh shit, we gotta go get registered like right
now.”

“I’m gonna wait for Clyde,” said Craig.

“Suit yourself, but the two of you might be turned away by the time he gets over here,” said Kevin.

“Yeah, I’m not risking that. He might be my best friend, but right now he can go fuck himself.”
Craig chuckled to himself as he followed Kevin and the others inside.
Once they were out of the car, Stan walked briskly toward the school while Clyde took his time.
He really didn’t want to go through with this. He was not prepared in the slightest, and a cute smile
and charming personality were not going to help him here.

Clyde looked up when he heard Kenny’s truck finally come speeding up the road, slowing down
just in time to turn into the parking lot. Pulling up to the curb closest to the main entrance, the
passenger’s door burst open before the truck even came to a full stop. Wendy leapt out of the truck,
only taking a moment’s pause to close the door behind her. She full on sprinted around the truck
toward the doors, narrowly missing a collision with Stan.

Wendy clutched her chest as she gasped. Once she realized who she had almost crashed into, her
face morphed from panicked relief to disgust. “Ugh, gross,” she said under her breath.

It was loud enough for Stan to hear. “Fuck off, Wendy. I’m too hungover to deal with your bullshit
right now.”

“Good! Cause this test is too important for me to deal with your bullshit right now!” she replied.

“Good!” yelled Stan.

“ GOOD!”

Kenny drove around to find a parking space, picking one a few spots down from Clyde. Clyde
watched as Kenny dropped down from the cab of his truck and slammed the rusted door shut,
manually using his keys to lock it. Kenny lit up a cigarette and walked toward Clyde. Clyde’s eyes
scanned up and down Kenny’s body and he realized that, like him, Kenny was wearing the same
clothing that he had been wearing at the dance last night.

Kenny stopped in front of Clyde. He took a drag off his cigarette in place of talking. He had
noticed immediately that Clyde was still in his street clothes from yesterday. The evidence didn’t
prove without a doubt that Clyde had scored another point last night, but it was pretty damning. He
turned his head to exhale. When he looked back at Clyde, they locked eyes. Clyde nodded once.
Kenny understood the wordless acknowledgement—a sort of solidarity between walkers of shame
—and nodded back in reply.

They walked together in awkward silence. Slowing down in front of the main doors, Kenny took a
final drag before dropping the butt and stomping it out against the concrete. He tilted his head
away so as to not blow out the smoke at Clyde, but kept his eyes on him.

“Stan?” he asked, breaking the silence.

Clyde nodded. “Wendy?”

Kenny nodded back.

The doors opened on their own, startling them. An older looking woman stood in the doorway,
staring them both down with a murderous look.

“You’re cutting it awfully close, gentlemen. Come in now or forfeit the test.”

Kenny and Clyde glanced at each other out of the corner of their eyes before they both nodded and
walked in past the registrar, a strong breeze blowing the door shut behind them.
The post-Mass rush was consistently the biggest challenge for Tweek on Sunday mornings.
Conveniently, there was a perfect little block of time between the morning Mass getting out and the
afternoon Mass beginning. It was an hour of non-stop orders, a line that often went out the door,
and, despite them supposedly being “good Christians”, a lot of asshole customers trying to get him
to work faster or making snide remarks about “the problem with teens these days is that they don’t
have any work ethic”. Tweek hated it. The only thing that got him through it lately was knowing
that once the rush was done, a certain someone would be showing up soon.

Tweek wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. He let down his hair and
shook it out. He could instantly feel the cool air against his scalp. He sighed and looked at the
clock. He had fifteen minutes to kill before they showed up. He popped his earbuds into place,
started up a playlist, and disappeared into the back room.

Craig’s stomach was a cage of butterflies. Despite his better judgment, he had left his house early
and now he found himself in front of Tweek Bros before the others. His hormones were clearly in
control this morning.

He peered into the glass storefront as he walked toward the door.

No sign of Tweek.

His stomach dropped.

Maybe he was just in the backroom since there were no customers inside?

The butterflies began to flutter once more.

He took a deep breath and entered the shop, sliding into a seat near the back. After a couple of
minutes, Tweek emerged from the back with a broom and dustpan in hand. He was looking at the
floor as he put the dustpan aside and began to sweep behind the counter. His head was nodding up
and down in a steady rhythm, his wild hair swaying back and forth as he did. Craig tried to fight
back a smile as he realized that Tweek had headphones in, but it was too perfect a moment. A
candid snapshot that Craig may never have the privilege of seeing ever again. He rested his chin
on his hand and stared dreamily, giving his hormones exactly what they wanted.

Tweek swept the floor in a trance. The drums pounding in his ears made his fingers itch. He so
badly wanted to sit at a drum kit and just let out some nervous energy, but he’d have to wait till
school tomorrow. He swept the pile of dirt and discarded straw wrappers from behind the counter
into the main room. The song crescendoed into a discordant thrum of shredding guitars and
guttural screaming. Tweek couldn’t help but let go, thrashing his head up, down, and all around,
his hair becoming a blur of blond. When the song was finally over, he caught his breath and flipped
his hair back out of his face.

“It’s nice to see you that excited about something that isn’t me.”

Tweek’s heart felt like it stopped for a moment when he realized that he wasn’t alone. He gasped,
his body jolting so violently that he let go of the broom. It fell to the floor with a crash. He
clutched his chest and, once he had regained his composure, turned his attention to Craig. Craig
and that strangely intense stare. He pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes.

"You think you’re so clever, using my own line on me, huh? Well, don't go thinking you've scored
yet, cutie," he said.

He pulled back his hair with both hands. He tied his hair into a small ponytail, flexing his strong,
toned drummer arms as he did. He held eye contact with Craig without flinching. He wasn't going
to lose so easily.

Craig swallowed. He knew what Tweek was trying to do. He knew, and honestly, he was okay
with it. He had already been enjoying the view, but now it was like it included some sort of mating
dance from Tweek. Craig drank in the sight of his arms, storing away the image for later. Wait,
was that a small sliver of his stomach that he could see under the hem of his shirt?

Craig leaned back in his chair. He ran his hand slowly back through his hair, closing his eyes and
enjoying the feeling of his fingers raking against his scalp. When he reached the back of his head,
he slid his hand sensually along the side of his neck. He slowly opened his eyes to find Tweek
staring at him with his mouth open. Subtly seemed to work well against him. Craig smiled—
subtly.

Tweek cleared his throat. “Don’t get too cocky now. I’m not done yet.”

He bent his knees and lowered himself to the ground to pick up the fallen broom. Instead of
standing up normally, he stood up slowly, sticking his ass out and arching his back as he did. He
placed the broom upright and wrapped one hand around the middle of it. He wrapped his other
hand around the top of the broom and began to run it up and down the broom in a suggestive
manner. Tweek began to roll his body in time with his hand, lightly grinding against the broom.

Craig continued to stare into Tweek’s eyes as he danced. Craig lightly ran the tip of his tongue
along his lower lip, then bit his lip ever-so-slightly.

A soft whine escaped Tweek’s lips. Cheeks flushed, eyes wide with embarrassment—Craig had
finally won.

“Uh, excuse me? Can I get some service here, or are you just here to service the broom?”

Tweek spun around to find a customer standing by the counter.

“Gah! How long have you been here?!” he shrieked.

“Long enough to know that you need Jesus,” they said, shaking their head.

Tweek panicked and ran back behind the counter. When taking the customer’s order, his voice was
higher pitched and he spoke faster than usual. Craig felt a little bad, but not so bad that he wasn’t
going to claim this win.

Craig continued to watch Tweek as he worked, waiting for the moment when he could catch his
eye. Tweek turned around to hand the customer one of their coffees, and he made the mistake of
glancing back at Craig. Craig smirked and held up his index finger. That’s one , he mouthed,
laughing when Tweek scrunched his nose, reluctantly accepting defeat.

Bzzt!Bzzt!
Craig pulled his attention away from Tweek and grabbed his phone out of his pocket.

Could you be any more obvious?

It was from Kenny. Craig furrowed his brow.

The fuck?

How long have you been sitting in there?

Craig’s head snapped up and turned to the storefront window. Kenny was standing outside, staring
at Craig with a shit-eating grin. Craig rolled his eyes and flipped him off with one hand while
texting him back with the other.

Admit it. You’re just jealous cause you miss me simping this hard over you.

Don’t test me, Tucker.

You know my sext game is legendary.

I could have you in the bathroom of this place in two minutes if I wanted.

Are you sure you want to take that risk?

Craig looked at Kenny, then over at Tweek, then back at Kenny. He closed his eyes and sighed.

Just get your ass in here already. Dick.

Craig wanted to smack the smug look off of Kenny’s face as he pulled up a chair.

“You seem fucking chipper this morning,” said Craig. “I hate it.”

“That’s what getting a good sleep will do to ya,” said Kenny.

“So I take it that the SAT went well for you then? If you were able to sleep so well last night. I had
some trouble getting to sleep cause I kept thinking about some of the problems I just know I got
wrong.”

Craig noticed that Kenny had averted his eyes and was picking at his fingernails.

“Wait. This ‘good sleep’ you had… Was it... ? Ken, no. Did you seriously fall asleep during the
SAT?!”

Kenny laughed nervously. “No, dude, don’t be ridiculous! Who do you think I am? Falling asleep
during an important test is only something that idiots do.”

The bell chimed as Clyde and Bebe entered the store.

“I can’t believe I ended up falling asleep yesterday. I didn’t do any of the math sections. My dad’s
gonna know I forgot. I am so fucked, Bebe.”

Kenny and Craig looked at each other. Kenny pointed his thumb at Clyde and tilted his head to the
side, grinning.

“My case in point.”

Craig raised his eyebrow at Kenny, then turned to Bebe and Clyde as they pulled out their chairs.
“So, how did you guys do on the test?” he asked.

“I finished the language section early, so I people watched to see if I could find any good drama,”
said Bebe.

“Seriously? How the hell can you find drama from watching people hunched over filling in tiny
circles with a number two pencil?” asked a skeptical Craig.

“Honey, if you watch long enough, no one stays hunched over for the entire test.” Bebe leaned
back in her chair and crossed her arms. “Look, I might not have found a lot, but I did see Stan and
Wendy sending each other death glares from opposite sides of the room. And when they weren’t
doing that, they were staring at Kyle. I don’t think my girl would cheat on Stan with anyone, but
Kyle definitely has something to do with why Stan broke up with her.”

“Alright dickwads,” Tweek announced as he appeared next to them, tray in hand, “here are your
overpriced hot beverages.”

Clyde was relieved at the perfect timing. He knew how Kyle was involved, and he didn’t want to
risk Bebe figuring it out and risking Stan being outed. It was bad enough that he had nodded his
head in confirmation when Kenny asked the previous morning.

“You always know exactly what to say, babe,” Kenny said with a laugh.

Tweek moved around the table, placing each person’s drink in front of them. Craig received his
last. Tweek placed the hot mug on the table, then picked up a small spoon to hand to Craig. Craig
held out his hand to receive the spoon, but instead of handing it over, Tweek looked into his eyes
and dropped it on the floor by Craig’s feet.

“Oops,” laughed Tweek. “Let me get that for you.”

He locked eyes with Craig and began to bend over.

“Excuse me.”

Tweek continued to stare into Craig’s eyes as his head moved lower. He paused with his face mere
centimeters from Craig’s groin while he felt around for the dropped spoon. He was so close that
Craig would’ve been able to feel his breath on his skin if he hadn’t been wearing pants. Tweek’s
fingers wrapped around the spoon. He watched Craig’s face begin to flush and his fingers tug at his
hat strings. Craig’s chullo may have been pulled down to try to hide his embarrassment, but from
his lower position, Tweek could see that Craig’s eyes were still fixed on him. He smiled as he
slowly made his way back to a standing position.

“Ah, I’m such a klutz. Let me go get you a clean spoon.”

Tweek leaned down to whisper in Craig’s ear before he left the table. “That’s three.”

Craig shifted in his chair. He waited until Tweek came back with the spoon and left once more
before he emerged from the protection of his hat. He was greeted by Clyde, Kenny, and Bebe, all
staring at him with raised eyebrows.

“Well,” said Clyde, “I guess enjoy the spank bank material, my dude.”

“Are you guys just playing gay chicken at this point?” asked Bebe.

Kenny shook his head in disappointment. “Remind me to lock you guys in a closet together at
Token’s Halloween party, damn,” he said. “These sexy teasing shenanigans are going to get you to
come in your pants one of these days, and even though that’d be kinda funny, you’re my friend and
I don’t want you to have to go through that.”

He picked up his drink and took a long sip. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he
continued. “Okay, enough about Craig’s eventual unintended emission around Tweek, let’s talk
about points for the week.”

“I haven’t heard anything,” said Bebe.

“Same,” said Craig.

“That’s not surprising, given who I fucked,” said Kenny. “I got Wendy on the rebound.”

“What?! Already?” said Bebe. “Why wouldn’t she tell me about that?” Her eyes widened, fire
behind them. “Kenny. You’d better have not tricked her into sex just to get a stupid point for this
stupid competition.”

“It’s not stupid…” mumbled Clyde.

Kenny raised his hands in front of him, shaking them side to side. “No no no! It was her idea! I
swear! All I did was drive her home from the dance, and she was the one who asked me to! When
we got to her house, she asked me if I wanted to make out with her!”

“You didn’t have to say yes!” said Bebe.

Kenny rolled his eyes. “Come on, Bebe. Of course I was going to say yes. I’m behind Donovan. I
can’t be turning down any opportunity that could lead to me having sex with someone.”

“She just got dumped, Kenny! She was lonely and hurting and just trying to use sex as a coping
mechanism! You took advantage of that!”

“Do you really think Wendy would have taken no for an answer?” asked Kenny.

Bebe pursed her lips and sighed. “Ugh, probably not. If she wants something, she figures out how
to get it. I still don’t like it, but…I’ll trust that she knew what she was doing.”

“Okay, so that’s one more point for Kenny, who’s now at two.” She turned to look at Clyde. “How
about you, babe?”

Clyde stared down at the table, torn about what to do. On one hand, if he told them about having
sex with Stan, he’d be breaking the promise he made to keep Stan’s secret. On the other hand, if he
didn’t claim this point, he’d lose his lead over Kenny, and he did not want to risk his entire school
legacy over this.

“Clyde?” asked Bebe. “Did you have sex with anyone this week?”

Clyde looked up at Bebe, then quickly averted his gaze. “Stan,” he barely whispered.

“What? You’re going to have to speak up,” she said.

“Stan,” he repeated, mumbling the name quietly through his teeth.

“Dude, fuckin’ A, just tell us who it was!” said Craig.

“Stan! I fucked Stan! He was drunk, I drove him home, he told me we were gonna order a pizza,
then he admitted to having bi thoughts and asked me I’d fuck him. Then after, he cried and asked
me to keep it all a secret. There! Happy now?!”

The table fell silent. Clyde crossed his arms across his chest and sunk down in his chair.

Craig was the first to speak. “I’m not going to be able to confirm that point—assuming Marsh even
remembers it happening. You know a drunk person can’t consent, right?”

Clyde shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He closed his eyes and nodded.

“I feel like we should count that point, but there was never any explicit rule about sex under the
influence, so…” Craig grimaced.

Bebe stood up. “Craig, can I see you over there for a moment?”

Craig nodded and followed Bebe to the other side of the store. Clyde and Kenny sat and waited.
They both felt like schoolboys waiting in the principal’s office for their punishment. They caught
each other’s glance here and there, quickly looking away as soon as their eyes met. After a few
moments, Craig and Bebe returned,

“We think you guys might be taking this sex contest too far,” said Bebe. “Between taking
advantage of Wendy using sex as a coping mechanism and Stan not being able to consent because
he was drunk, this is all heading in a direction that we don’t feel comfortable with.”

“However, we’ve agreed to accept the points gathered this week, on the condition that you guys
clean the fuck up and stop being such sloppy little bitches. What you’re doing is already dubious,
so be better. Got it?”

“Got it,” Kenny and Clyde said in tandem.

Craig and Bebe turned to leave. “Wait a sec,” said Craig to Bebe when she reached the door. He
took out a crumpled twenty from his pocket and walked behind the counter.

Tweek was taking a customer’s order when he saw Craig approach out of the corner of his eye. He
turned his head to acknowledge Craig, but before he could say anything, Craig reached out his
hand to touch his hip. Craig slipped the fingertips of one hand under the hem of Tweek’s pants
while his other hand took the crumpled twenty and tucked it inside. Craig’s eyes burned a hole
through Tweek, focused and unblinking the entire time. The moment only lasted ten seconds, but to
Tweek, it felt like time was moving much slower.

Craig stepped back, still staring into Tweek’s eyes. Tweek’s pale skin had become a bright pink,
and the muscles around his right eye were twitching. His lips were slightly parted, like he wanted
to say something, but the words wouldn’t form in his mouth.

Craig smiled and held up two fingers in front of his chest. To his friends and the customer, the
gesture simply looked like one that was meant as a goodbye. To Tweek, it meant that he may be in
the lead, but Craig was always close behind.

“Real smooth, Craig,” Bebe laughed as she held the door open for him.

Tweek turned back to his customer. He gripped the edge of the countertop in an attempt to stop his
hands from shaking.

“Are you okay?” asked the customer.

“Uh, yeah. Sorry about that. Customers don’t typically pay that way, so...uh...yeah.”

Clyde and Kenny watched the scene unfold from the table. They both shook their heads in
disappointment.

“Seriously, how have they not boned yet?” said Clyde.

“Tell me about it,” said Kenny. “I’ve been putting all the pressure on Craig. I didn’t know Tweek
was just as bad. He’s usually so cool around people he wants to fuck. That…that was just
embarrassing.”

Clyde sighed. “So...I guess we’re free to go then? If he paid for our drinks in the sexiest way
possible?”

“Seems that way,” said Kenny. He stood up and nudged the chair back into place with his knee.

Clyde followed suit.

“So...” said Kenny once they were both outside. “Stan is bi, huh?”

Clyde hummed. “Yeah, go figure. I always thought he was the straightest guy I knew.”

They began to slowly walk together down the street.

“This has to stay between us, though. Uh...the four of us. He’s not ready to come out. I promised
him that what we did wouldn’t leave my bedroom.”

“Well, that was a fucking lie,” snorted Kenny.

“Yeah, dick. Why do you think I was hesitating to tell you guys?” Clyde sighed. “But this thing
between us is so important to me, you know? I needed that point to stay on top of you. I like to
think that Stan would understand if he knew the reason.” He paused for a beat. “But seriously,
don’t tell anyone, okay? If he ended up getting outed by all this, I’d never forgive myself.”

“Nah dude, I wouldn’t out anyone, especially not my childhood bro.”

Kenny stuffed his hands in his pockets. He looked up at the sky as he continued to walk forward.
Clouds were beginning to close in around the sun. It looked like maybe it would rain tonight.

“On second thought,” he continued, lowering his head, “please don’t tell anyone about Wendy,
either. She said she doesn’t care if people know, but… She’s been through enough shit the past
few days. She doesn’t need people calling her a slut on top of it.”

“Got it,” said Clyde. “Can I ask you one thing though?”

“Shoot.”

“How was she?”

Kenny hesitated for a moment, trying to find the right way to describe the experience. “Great. But
loud. Really, really loud.”

Clyde hummed. “So is Stan.”

“No shit, really?” Kenny laughed.

“Can you imagine what they must’ve been like together? Shit, dude,” Clyde chuckled.

Kenny bent over laughing as Clyde continued.

“I have no idea how they could have possibly had sex at either of their houses without their
families knowing.”

“Oh, Wendy’s parents know.” Kenny caught his breath and wiped the tears from his eyes. “They
told me.”

“Are you shitting me?”

“I shit you not.”

“Why the fuck would they tell you that?!” Clyde threw his arms into the air.

“They were already downstairs when I tried to sneak out of the house and, in so many words,
basically thanked me for fucking their daughter. Then they explained that they know her tactic for
trying to hide how loud she is, and that the tactic does not work.”

Clyde shook his head. “Dude, why do all the adults in South Park have to have something weird
about them? Why can’t they all just be normal for once?”

“It’s this fucking town, man. That’s why everyone in our class needs to get the fuck out of here
after graduation. It’s the only way for us to live any sort of normal lives—after a fuck-ton of
therapy, of course.”

They looked at each other and smiled. For a brief moment, they felt happy and comfortable around
each other, like two bros just hanging out. That moment was quickly interrupted by the church
bells ringing in the noon hour nearby.

“Wow, it’s noon already?” asked Clyde.

“Shit,” said Kenny under his breath. He turned to look at Clyde. “Hey, where is your car parked
anyway?” asked Kenny.

“Oh,” said Clyde. “Uh, I was just following you.”

“Why would you be following me? That’s stupid.”

“I dunno,” said Clyde. “Why, where’s your truck?”

“Way back on the other side of the store!”

“Then why did you walk all this way, too?!"

Kenny’s jaw tensed. I was just following you. “Goddammit Donovan, now I’m gonna be late for
work because of you!”

Kenny turned around and began to sprint back to Tweek Bros. Not one to be outdone, especially
not by Kenny McCormick, Clyde quickly followed suit. With words unspoken, they committed to
the race. They ran neck and neck the entire way back, and somewhere along the line, their desire to
best the other shifted to something more akin to children running around the schoolyard. Their
focused looks of intensity melted into big dopey grins. They were having such a good time running
that Clyde ended running right past his car.
 “Dammit!” he said once he realized his error. He slowed to a jog and circled back around.

Kenny slowed to a stop a few meters from his truck. He turned to watch Clyde jog away with his
tail between his legs. He laughed as he gently stretched his legs and caught his breath.

As he hopped up into his truck, he realized he felt odd—almost lightheaded and giddy, but not like
he was actually going to pass out. He had never felt this before. It wasn’t bad, just odd. After a few
minutes it went away, and Kenny thought nothing more of it.

Chapter End Notes

Thank you for reading this story! If you enjoyed it, please take the time to leave a
kudos or a comment!

Social media: @otherluces on Tumblr and Twitter; Luces#5969 on Discord

 The Pumpkin Spice Flavored Chapter
Chapter Notes

Hey. Uh, so it's been 1.5 years since this was updated. Hope everyone is well. But
hey, this chapter is dripping in October vibes, so it feels right that it's ready now!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Clyde's eyelids fluttered open. He groaned and reached for the phone. He really wasn't in the mood
to go to school today, but he knew that his dad would not be okay with him taking a mental health
day. With sleep still heavy in his eyes, he looked at the time.

9:13 AM. Fuck! He was late for school.

Clyde sat up quickly, but hesitated before jumping out of bed. He thought for a moment. No...no,
he wasn't late for school. It was a Monday holiday—the most sacred of days for students. Sure, this
one was to celebrate a murderous thieving rapist, but Clyde was still happy to have the day
off. Fuck you very much, Columbus, Clyde thought as he lied back down, pulled the covers over
his shoulders, and fell back asleep.

I'm a bitch, I'm a boss, I'm a bitch, I'm a boss and I shine like gloss

Clyde awoke with a start. His heart hammered in his chest as he fumbled around for his phone. It
was Bebe.

"Hello?"

"You'd better not tell me that you're still in bed," she said.

"Uh...nope, totally not still in bed." Clyde tried to quietly get off his bed, but his squeaky mattress
cried out as he stood, giving him away.

"Oh my god, Clyde," Bebe laughed. "What am I ever going to do with you? Listen, get your thick
ass dressed and ready to go. I'm on my way over and I have a big surprise."

"I have a thick ass? Like...with two c's and no k?"

Clyde's voice had so much hope in it. Bebe sighed. "Yes, t-h-i-c-c thick. Your ass is thicker than a
milkshake, Clyde."

Clyde smiled as he started to browse his closet for something to wear. "That sounds like something
I'd say."

"You did. To me, back when we were dating. Or something like that."

The sound of Bebe giggling through the phone made Clyde feel warm in his chest. He loved her so
much.

He pulled out some clothes and tossed them onto his bed. "Alright now, let me go so I can get this
milkshake ass in some jeans and I'll see you in a few."

"Got it!"

Clyde hung up and threw his phone onto his bed. He quickly dressed and stopped in front of his
mirror to comb his hair just right. He wasn't sure what Bebe's surprise was, but he had to always
look his best—he never knew when he could score another point.

Beep-beep!

That didn't sound like Bebe's car.

Clyde walked over to his window and leaned both hands on the sill as he surveyed the front yard.
His eyes widened as they landed on Bebe sitting in a beautiful bright red convertible. He lifted the
window open and leaned out to call to her.

"Hey! Since when do you have a drop top?"

"I'm not telling you until you get the fuck down here! Come on! I have big plans of driving around
aimlessly all day with you!"

Clyde shoved his wallet in his back pocket, flew down the stairs, and leapt out the front door. As
he ran across the front yard, he was thankful that his dad was going to be at the store all day trying
to milk this holiday for all it's worth.

He ran around the front of the car, a dopey grin on his face. Bebe could sense the thoughts behind
that grin and stopped them in their tracks.

"Don't you even think about jumping over the door into the seat! If there's even a smudge of dirt on
this when I get home, my aunt is gonna kill me."

"So that's how you can suddenly afford a Lexus on a high school cheerleader's salary," said Clyde.

Bebe rolled her eyes as she watched Clyde open the passenger door and get in the car like a normal
person. "Look, I have an aunt who is loaded and likes to flaunt her money in return for affection
from the niece she rarely sees. I am a young woman who likes nice things. Did you think I
wouldn't take advantage of that?"

"You'd be a fool not to." Clyde's hands hovered in the air, wanting to touch the pristine luxury
interior, but terrified that he would ruin things for Bebe by leaving a fingerprint.

"Anyway, she's in town for the week and she agreed to let me take it out for the afternoon, as long
as I promised to stay in town." She raised an eyebrow at Clyde's awkward hand movements. "Babe,
just relax. Here, this will help." She reached into her purse and pulled out two pairs of Gucci
sunglasses, handing one to Clyde. "These we actually get to keep."

"Oh my god," said Clyde. He took the sunglasses from her hands and held them up above his head.
"I'm gonna look like such a bad bitch in these." He unfolded them, his eyes wide in awe, and put
them on. "How do I look?"

"Hot," Bebe grinned, her own shades already on. "So," she continued, "wanna go for a joyride?"
The last thing that Kenny wanted to be doing on an extra day off from school was work. Yet here
he was, driving back and forth within a ten mile radius from City Wok with greasy containers of
low-grade Chinese food riding shotgun. He had tried to get Karen to tag along with him, just to
make the afternoon pick-up shift a little more tolerable, but she had fled to the Tucker house for the
day. He couldn't blame her, though. If he didn't need the extra income to pay for the family's
mortgage this month—his dad was unemployed again—he would've gone with her and hung out
with Craig.

Walking away from the doorway of Ms. Charmagne—one of his most dedicated customers—he
stopped and looked back at her before he hopped into his truck. The look she gave him was
downright ravenous. He smiled and waved back, receiving a kiss blown at him in return. He made
a mental note to never let her know when he turned eighteen; she would be on top of him so fast
it'd knock the air from his lungs.

Most days, Kenny loved the attention that she and some of his other older female customers gave
him, but today he just wasn't feeling it. Sure, his pockets were twenty bucks fuller than they had
been when he first pulled into her driveway, but the elated confident feeling he usually had from
the attention was nowhere to be found. He sighed and took a left back onto Main Street, back
toward City Wok.

The last two hours of his shift went by painfully slow, but it was four o'clock and Kenny was
finally free. Sitting in his truck outside the restaurant, he pulled out his phone and shot Karen a
text.

Hey Kare, just got off work. Do you and Trish wanna get some food? Call me.

He turned over the engine and cranked up his stereo, letting the rumble of blast beats run though
his body. He pulled out of the parking lot and started to head toward the Tucker house, anticipating
that Karen was going to say yes. About five minutes later, his phone rang.

"Hey Karen," he answered, turning down the volume.

"Kenny! Trish and I are starving!"

Kenny chuckled as he heard Tricia whining in the background about having never felt this hungry
in her life. "Message received. I'm heading over right now. Be there in ten."

"Hey Ken, before you hang up! After we eat, Trish and I want to go to Sloppy Seconds and figure
out our costumes for this year. Is that okay?"

"Sounds like a plan. I'll see you soon."

Kenny scratched his head. He hadn't thought about a Halloween costume. Token had been hyping
up this year's Halloween party as the biggest yet, as it may be the last time ever that all of their
classmates are together for Halloween. No matter what social circles people had ended up in,
Token always made it a priority that everyone in their graduating class was invited. Although
Kenny had barely talked to Token since starting high school, he still appreciated that about him.

Kenny continued to brainstorm costume ideas as he drove, only paying half-attention to the traffic
around him. As he neared the final intersection before the Tucker's street, the sound of obnoxiously
loud music pulled him back to the present. The bass hit him first. Ugh, fucking rap. Kenny's nose
wrinkled. As much as he wanted to be able to appreciate all kinds of music, he just could not wrap
his head around rap and hip hop.

The car guilty of murdering its speakers was stopped at the intersection and didn't seem to plan on
moving any time soon. A candy red convertible. It was exactly the sort of car Kenny would never
buy. The color and model combination made the car more likely to be pulled over by police, and
Kenny didn't want any of that shit. The top of the convertible was down, but he couldn't get a good
look at the driver due to the head rest. However, he could see nearly all of the passenger. They
were standing on the seat, crouched down and holding onto the head rest and windshield for
balance, enthusiastically shaking their ass.

Hands on my knees shakin' ass on my thot shit,

Hands on my knees shakin' ass on my thot shit

Kenny pushed his foot down on the brake, slowly pulling up behind the car before stopping
completely. Now closer, he knew exactly who was in the car. No one but Bebe had curls so full
and blonde, and no one but Donovan was stupid enough to stand up on the seat of a car and twerk.

I walk around the house butt-naked

And I stop at every mirror just to stare at my own posterior

His eyebrows raised at the lyrics. Donovan fucking would, he thought. He picked up his phone and
started to film the exuberant performance playing out in front of him. It was perfect blackmail
material in case Donovan ever tried to pull another bullshit stunt. "This is your big damn football
hero, Park County." He shook his head, quietly chuckling to himself. "Drink it in. I hope you're
proud."

He stopped the video and dropped his phone next to him. He crossed his arms, watching
Donovan's hips wiggle and roll to the beat. It was almost mesmerizing, like a metronome. Staring
hypnotically at his rival, a fleeting thought appeared in Kenny's mind: If his hips and ass move like
that when he's fucking, he's probably amazing in bed.

Beep-beep-beeeeeeeep!

Kenny's heart was in his throat as he snapped back to reality. Glancing in his rearview mirror, he
noticed that another car had arrived at the intersection, and the driver was not as hypnotized by the
twerking going on as he had been.

"Come on, asshole!" the driver yelled.

Kenny watched as Clyde stumbled and fell back onto his seat. Bebe threw her head back in laughter
as she put the car in drive, turned on her left signal, and finally exited the intersection. Kenny
pulled up to the stop sign and looked both ways, his eyes lingering to the left, before driving
straight through towards the Tucker house.

"So whatcha thinking for costume ideas this year?" Clyde hurried out of the car, leaving Bebe in
the driver's seat to ponder her answer.
"I have a few in mind. Do you still want to do a couple's costume?" she asked.

Clyde bounced eagerly on the balls of his feet. "Hell yeah! Why wouldn't we?" he asked. "We're in
a relationship and we're a couple. Just because it's not romantic anymore doesn't mean we can't
show up to Token's party ready to slay."

Bebe exited the car and locked it up before following Clyde into Sloppy Seconds. "See, it's when
you say stuff like that that I know we were platonically made for each other," she giggled.

The storefront was decorated for the season. Pumpkins lined the sidewalk out front, cobweb-like
fabric was draped across the windows, and there was a creepy-looking brass door knocker in the
center of the door. Inside, the thrift store was packed. People of all ages filed through the racks of
clothing in search of Halloween inspiration. For those who wanted more than the usual store-
bought costume, it was a magical spring of creative possibilities.

"So what's your idea, Bebe? What sort of thing are you looking for?" asked Clyde.

Bebe slowly walked around a rack full of various shirts and blouses. She ran a hand over each
piece, eyeing them for a fleeting moment before moving on to the next one. A mischievous grin
slowly spread across her face. "You ready to show some body-ody-ody this year?"

Clyde placed his hands on his stomach and grabbed onto the soft flesh. He looked down and
frowned. Negative thoughts about his body ran through his head for a few seconds before he
pushed them out and looked back up at Bebe. Smiling, he gave his stomach two hearty pats.

"This is the last Halloween party, so if I'm gonna do it, it's gotta be now. YOLO right?"

"Awesome," said Bebe, her wicked grin widening. "I'm thinking we go Greek. I'll be Medusa,
you'll be Heracles. I get a white flowy dress here and make adjustments at home, and I have a
whole plan for how to make a headpiece for the snake hair. You can wear a brown heavyweight
skirt with a black and silver belt, and if you can find a lion plushie and removed the stuffing, you
can wear it on your head as the pelt of that lion he slayed while going shirtless…and maybe getting
some interest for potential points."

Clyde blinked a few times, stunned. Bebe certainly had this planned out. It was a lot to take in at
once.

"So, what do you think?" Bebe asked. She looked hopeful.

Clyde slowly nodded. "I like it. A sexy Medusa, huh? That's an interesting costume for the party,"
Clyde laughed.

"Yup! They'll take one look at me and become hard as rocks." Bebe wiggled her eyebrows
suggestively at Clyde.

"Alright, it's a deal then. Wanna split up? You can look for your dress and I'll try looking for–what
was it you said? A heavy brown skirt?"

Karen and Trish led the way into Sloppy Seconds with Kenny trailing behind. They ran off toward
the back of the store, leaving Kenny alone by the door. He shrugged and chuckled to himself. He
stepped to the side and leaned against a small section of wall that was not covered in stuff for sale.
He watched Karen and Trish for a while, but soon his eyes began to wander across the store. He
saw many of his peers from school clamoring to put something together for Token's bash.
Everyone's excitement about the Halloween season was contagious. Kenny felt a tingle of
excitement start to grow in his stomach. He grinned unabashedly on the sidelines, trying to guess
what costumes people were putting together based on the items they collected. He was having a
genuinely good time. And nothing can change that, he thought, like a fool.

When he caught a glimpse of Clyde, he rolled his eyes and shook his head, but his smile mostly
remained intact. He watched as Clyde browsed through the women's section of the thrift store.
Kenny cocked an eyebrow—perplexed, but also intrigued as to what he was up to. Sighing, he
pushed himself off the wall and headed over towards Clyde.

"Well, this is certainly a surprise," he said, coming up to Clyde from behind.

Clyde jumped with a start and spun around. He rolled his eyes and turned back to the rack once he
saw who spooked him.

Kenny grinned at Clyde's initial reaction, but his smile quickly dropped when the interaction didn't
progress. Clyde certainly couldn't have suddenly lost all of his insecurities overnight. Kenny surely
thought that simply being caught browsing a bunch of skirts would be enough to send Clyde into
an embarrassed panic and maybe even a state of desperate begging. That thought excited Kenny.
Himself in a position of power over Clyde, in control of his social standing, and Clyde willing to do
anything to get him to make it all better.

He crossed his arms and took another swing. "I never would've expected to catch you shopping in
women's clothing. Honestly honey, you don't have the figure for it."

Clyde didn't flinch. "Says the guy who dressed as a princess every time we LARPed as kids."

Kenny pursed his lips. He moved around to Clyde's left side and leaned in close. "Everyone
already knows that, but what they don't know is that you—the big, tough, masculine football star—
are a secret crossdresser."

Clyde froze. It was only for a moment, but Kenny felt satisfied knowing he had finally gotten under
Clyde's skin. He watched Clyde's hands tighten into fists, then relax as he continued to browse the
skirts.

"I'm not a secret crossdresser, asshole. For your information, I am currently working on putting
together a really hot super masculine costume for Token's Halloween party."

Knowing that Clyde had been thrown off his game, even if he was trying to pretend he was still
cool, Kenny decided to go in for the kill. He pulled out his cellphone while Clyde continued
talking.

"Bebe and I are going together and our costumes are going to be hot and badass and legendary and
you'll feel so stupid when you see the finished product. Yes, I need to buy a skirt as part of it," he
mumbled under his breath," but I'm not a—"

"Hands on my knees shakin' ass on my thot shit...

'This is your big damn football hero, Park County.'"

Clyde's face went pale. His eyes were wide and panicked as he stared at his own ass shaking to the
beat. His eyes darted back to Kenny's face. "Where the fuck did you get this?" he whispered
between gritted teeth. The sight of Kenny's shit-eating grin made him nauseated.

"A little birdie brought it to me," said Kenny.

Clyde grabbed for the phone, only for Kenny to slap his hand away. "I am not fucking around,
McCormick."

"Neither am I, Donovan. This is gold right here. If you don't want the entire county—hell, the
entire internet to see this, I suggest you tread lightly around me. One slip of my finger and this is
uploaded on tiktok."

"Seriously? You're threatening to blackmail me?" asked Clyde.

"You always surprise me with what you actually know…" said Kenny.

Clyde clenched his jaw. "So rumors are going too far, but blackmail is fine to you?"

"Hey bro, now that you showed me how low you can go to try to win, I assumed all bets were off."

The two stared at each other in silence, neither flinching.

Clyde was the first to move. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his own phone.

"Don't try anything rash, Donovan. You're in a crowded shop where a lot of people idolize you. If I
uploaded this right now, everyone here would see it."

Clyde didn't respond. He continued to scroll through his phone, ignoring Kenny.

"Look dude, I can't trust that you won't do something shady again. I need this to protect myself,
okay? You care way too much about what other people think about you, so it's my only defense."

Clyde looked up at Kenny. "You're right. I do care way too much about what others think about
me. But only when I can't control it."

Clyde held his phone up in the air and pressed play.

Hands on my knees, shakin' ass, on my thot shit…

Clyde dropped low and began to shake his ass exactly like he had in the car. The song and sudden
movement caught the attention of the others around him, students and adults alike. They gravitated
toward him, forming a circle around him as the rest of the thrift store caught wind of what was
going on. Soon enough, the entire store had surrounded Clyde to cheer him on. Some people even
entered the circle to twerk along with him.

Kenny was pushed to the back. This had not gone as he had expected. He had just hoped to put a
little fear in Clyde, not have him fight back with the power of his thick yet sculpted ass. Rolling his
eyes, he walked out of the store and pulled out a cigarette. Lighting it and taking the first drag, he
thought about how Clyde somehow always seemed to come out on top in all of their interactions.
Dumb luck, he supposed.

Back in the store, after looping the song for a second time, Clyde took a bow to raucous applause.
Bebe ran up to him and threw her arms around his neck.

"What the hell was that?!" she laughed. "You've never twerked in public before! I mean, I guess
you sorta did in the car, but that was nothing compared to what you just did here. What's gotten
into you?"
"I decided I needed to stop caring so much about what others think about me."

Bebe pulled away from him. "Okay, I know that can't be true. What's actually gotten into you?"

Clyde scanned the crowd as they dispersed back through the store. He couldn't find Kenny
anywhere.

Bebe noticed he was looking for someone. "Oh my god, what happened between you and
Kenny this time?" she sighed.

Clyde looked at Bebe and opened his mouth to speak before Bebe interrupted him.

"Nevermind," she said, waving her hands and shaking her head. "I don't wanna know."

"That's probably a good idea," he said.

"How was your holiday?" Kenny asked as he and Tweek walked down the main hall of Park
County High.

Tweek turned his head toward Kenny and gave him the side eye.

"Ah shit, sorry dude." Kenny smacked his forehead with his palm. "For a moment I forgot that
your parents suck."

"It's whatever, dude. The shift wasn't too bad, honestly. I was busy, but not like in a backed up line
with people bitching at me all day sorta way."

"That's good, I guess. You wanna hang out Friday night since the Bulls are off this week, or are
your awful parents making you work?"

"They are both under the impression that there is a football game every single week, and like hell
am I going to tell them otherwise. Yeah, let's do it. It feels like it's been forever since we've been
able to hang alone."

They turned down the corridor that led to the band room and were immediately greeted by the
walls being covered in black and orange colored flyers.

"The fuck?" asked Tweek.

Kenny grabbed one of the flyers to take a closer look.

"Jensen's Farm presents 'It's The Most Spooktacular Time of the Year', a fall festival running from
the twelfth through November fourth. Pick your own pumpkins, bob for apples, take a hayride, or
try to make it through our corn maze. Five bucks."

Kenny and Tweek chuckled at the flier as Kenny crumbled it into a ball and tossed it behind him.

"That sounds pretty fucking lame, dude," said Tweek.

"Yeah," said Kenny. "It's probably going to be full of fucking screaming children and their tired-
ass parents ignoring them as usual. Sounds thrilling. Hard pass."
They continued to make fun of the festival all the way to the band room.

"So we're going Friday night, right?" asked Tweek as he took out his drum sticks.

"Oh, definitely, dude," said Kenny. "I'm going to bob the fuck out of those apples, and who knows?
Maybe I'll get lost in the maze with a cutie and they can nibble on my corn cob."

"Slut," Tweek laughed.

"Hey, I'm more than that. Besides, I'm only like, five percent more of a slut than you are."

"True," Tweek nodded. "But the difference is that I'm more subtle about it."

"Thanks for the ride, Kenny. I'm going to go look for my friends. Love you!" Karen ran off toward
the festival's front gate before Kenny could reply.

"Siblings, am I right?" Tweek mused as he walked up to Kenny's truck. He leaned against the
hood, half-used cigarette perched between his lips.

"Fucker, you don't have any siblings. How would you know?" Kenny laughed.

"And thank fucking god for that. I couldn't bear watching my parents torture another child." Tweek
pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and nodded toward the front gate. "You ready to do this?"

"Yeah. Let me have some of that first, though." Tweek handed over the cigarette, and after a long
drag, Kenny stubbed it into the dirt with his boot. "Let's rock."

Once inside, they walked around the festival for a while to get a sense of the layout. Eventually,
they decided to take a stroll through the corn maze. Even with the twilight sky making it harder to
see the path in front of them, Tweek and Kenny had no problem making it through. After a few
minutes, they heard a familiar voice up ahead.

"I don't know how we got lost, Craig! If I did, we wouldn't be lost, would we?"

Kenny rolled his eyes. It was just his luck…

"Oh, real funny, Craig! No, I am not going to cry right now!"

Kenny and Tweek rounded a corner to find Clyde and Craig standing in the middle of the path.
"Gentlemen," said Kenny as he nodded to Craig and intentionally pushed past Clyde. Tweek
glanced at both of them and just shrugged.

Craig watched as Tweek followed Kenny around another corner. He glanced at a clearly miffed
Clyde before following after Kenny himself.

"Craig!" whined Clyde.

"Dude, I just want to get out of this stupid corn hell. My pride be damned," said Craig as he
disappeared behind the corn.

Clyde let out a frustrated growl before reluctantly doing the same.
It took about a minute for them to make it to the exit. Kenny turned around and started to slow clap
as Clyde finally emerged, defeated.

"Fuck off, McCormick," he said while presenting his middle finger.

"I can't believe you actually got lost in that corn maze," laughed Kenny, shaking his head in
disbelief. "It's not even that fucking big. Tweek and I found our way out in like, what?"—he turned
to look at Tweek—"Five minutes?"

"More or less," said Tweek.

Clyde frowned. "What? Do you want a prize or something? Do you want me to congratulate you
for being better than me at fucking corn mazes?"

"I mean, you could just concede that I'm the better man and we could go back to our regular lives.
This whole contest has been fun and all, but it's getting kinda tiring seeing your ugly face way more
than I normally would."

"HA! You're hilarious!" Clyde slapped his knee and shook his body in a display of fake laughter.
His face remained serious.

"Face it, Donovan." Kenny slowly stepped in closer to Clyde, his voice growing quieter. "I'm
smarter than you, I'm more talented than you, and I am much, much hotter than you."

"Remember that I'm currently beating your ass, McCormick." Clyde closed the gap between the
two of them. "And all of that other stuff might be true, but I'm faster than you, stronger than you,
and much, much better at sex than you."

The two boys glared at each other, jaws clenched and chests heaving with tension. Neither knew
how long they stood there, inches apart, staring into each other's eyes, but the moment was
interrupted by an announcement on the sound system.

"Attention everyone! The twelfth annual bobbing for apples tournament is about to start in front of
the main barn in five minutes! Entry open to everyone! Do you think you're skilled enough to win
the coveted Golden Apple?"

Kenny and Clyde looked at each other once more. Without speaking, they both sprinted off toward
the main barn, leaving Tweek and Craig in their dust.

Craig sighed and turned to Tweek. "Do we have to go after them?"

Tweek nodded and scrunched his nose. "Yeah. If we're not there to supervise them, they'll probably
drown each other."

"Would that really be so bad?"

Tweek snorted with laughter. "Yes. But I dig your sense of humor."

When Tweek and Craig caught up with their respective besties, they were each holding a piece of
paper with a large number on it.

"Hey Craig, can you be a bro and help me out with this?" asked Clyde. He didn't look at Craig
when he addressed him. His eyes were locked on Kenny the entire time. He took off his plaid
flannel shirt to reveal a tight fitting white tee underneath. He handed the paper and a safety pin to
Craig, pointing to his back.
Kenny glared back at Clyde. He poked his safety pin through the paper and reached behind his
back in a sad attempt to pin in on himself. Tweek shook his head and walked over to Kenny
without any prompting.

"Need a hand?" asked Tweek.

"No," said Kenny. He looked like he was doing a physical comedy bit, the way his arms were
flapping behind him and he was turning in a circle trying to get a better look at his back. "I don't
need help, unlike him."

"Oh my god," Tweek muttered under his breath. "Give me that, you fool." He snatched the paper
out of Kenny's hand. "Take off your parka."

"Nah dude. That water is gonna be cold as fuck."

"Clyde took off his warm clothes cause they're too thick and he wants the extra maneuverability.
You sure you want him to have that advantage?"

"Hell no!" Kenny whipped off his parka and threw it to the ground. He was only wearing an old
gray tank underneath, which Tweek quickly pinned his number to.

A large crowd of students and adults had formed to watch the tournament. Several young women
had gathered close to where Kenny and Clyde were waiting, their eyes hungry at the sight of bare
skin despite the October chill. Some staff members wheeled out two large barrels full of water.
Others carried in several large bags of apples, some of which were then dumped into the water.
Farmer Jensen approached the crowd with a megaphone.

"Okay everyone, here's how the tournament works! It's going to be elimination style, and we have
a record thirty-two contestants this year! That means that in order to win the whole thing, one must
beat five other opponents in hardcore apple-bobbing combat. Whomever in each battle bobs the
most apples in three minutes wins that round. The contestants' numbers have been put into a
randomizer app and we've set up the brackets. We'll call up each pair as we go. Oh, and did I forget
to mention that no hands are allowed? Every participant's hands are going to be tied behind their
back so they can't cheat! So, are you ready for some wet apple mayhem?!" The crowd cheered.
"Then here we go!"

As the tournament went on, it was eventually revealed that Clyde and Kenny were on opposite
sides of the bracket. It was possible for them to go head-to-head, but only if they both made it to
the final round. Knowing that, they both put their all into each round, determined to personally
defeat the other and bask in their public humiliation. Dunking their heads into the cold water,
mouths open and teeth bared. Returning with juicy wet apples, their hair drenched and dripping
down their bodies. Their passion and recklessness—and their wet shirts clinging to their chests—
were getting their peers riled up, cheering for one of the two Park County High boys to win it all.

After three furious rounds with both young men coming out victorious, there were four contestants
remaining. Clyde was called up first, but when his opponent was called, no one came. Murmurs
spread among the crowd. Clyde looked around, unsure of what was happening. After a few
moments, Farmer Jensen appeared with his megaphone.

"'Scuse me, everyone, but there's been a last minute change. Number fifteen, Charles Mansfield,
has forfeited the competition due to hypothermia! Don't worry folks, we have our medical staff
tending to him and warming him right up. Okay then, so due to this change, we're going to have our
final round right now as a three-way!"
The crowd roared in excitement. Kenny and Clyde looked at each other with uncertainty. They
both managed to get to the final round, and they were set to face each other, but neither had
predicted a third opponent. Clyde rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck. It didn't matter if there
was a third person. He was still going to beat Kenny and be carried out of the festival a hero.

Clyde's number was repeated and, already in position, he held his hand up to cheers from the
crowd. Kenny's number was called next. He approached Clyde with his head held high. He didn't
dare show any sign of weakness or intimidation. Everything was riding on this moment.

The final contestant's number was called as a third barrel of water and apples was wheeled outside.

"Well, hey fellas! Fancy seeing you here!"

Kenny's game face cracked. He slowly turned around to see Butters behind him, his smile shining
as bright as the autumn moon. He had been so singularly focused on Clyde this whole time that he
had failed to notice Butters was even competing.

"...Hey, Butters," said Kenny.

"Now I don't want you to hold back or 'nothin', okay? Let's have a fair fight, but an exciting fight!
Eyes on the prize, right?" said Butters.

Kenny looked back at Clyde. He hadn't broken his stare at Kenny the entire time. Kenny tightened
his jaw. "Yeah. Eyes on the prize."

Farmer Jensen called "ready, set", and a whistle blew to signal the beginning of the final round.
The three boys plunged their heads in, starting off strong. Kenny and Clyde were neck and neck,
matching each other apple for apple. Each would pause for a moment after dropping an apple into
the bucket to look over at the other, gauging how they were doing, before going back in for another
apple. Their hearts were pounding in their chests. The cheers from the crowd became muffled
every time their heads submerged in the water. Finally, a second whistle blew, ending the round.

Staff members came and collected each boy's bucket of apples to be officially counted. Other staff
came around to untie their hands. Kenny immediately slicked back his wet, shaggy hair. Clyde
cracked his knuckles and spit out a stray piece of apple peel that had been stuck in his teeth.
Butters ran over to them, happy as can be.

"That sure was a swell time, wasn't it, fellas? I think I did pretty good on account of my wide
mouth. I can fit all sorts of stuff in there. Even my entire fist! Funny, huh?"

"Wha…?" Kenny barely had time to process what Butters had said before the megaphone started
up again.

"We have a winner, folks!" announced Farmer Jensen. "May I have all three of our young stud
finalists over here, please? I am pleased to announce that this year's Golden Apple Champion, the
baddest bobber in all of Park County, is Leopold Stotch!"

"Ooh-da-la-li!" Butters exclaimed as he was handed the golden apple trophy. The students from the
crowd flooded in and scooped him up onto their shoulders, chanting his name and carrying him
across the festival grounds.

Kenny and Clyde were left alone, dumbfounded and cold, as the rest of the crowd dispersed.
Tweek and Craig handed them back their respective clothes and they got dressed again. One of the
staff approached, offering them all hot apple cider to warm them up as a consolation prize. The
four of them slowly wandered through the festival in silent shame until Clyde spoke up.
"Bobbing for apples fucking sucks."

Kenny cracked a smile. It didn't go unnoticed by Tweek.

"So what do you guys wanna do now?" asked Craig. "Wanna carve dicks into pumpkins?"

Kenny and Clyde both groaned. "I think I'm done with produce for a while, dude," said Kenny.

"I saw a sign for where to get on the hayrides earlier," said Tweek. "We could do that."

"Oh yeah. That's a good idea, Tweek," said Craig. "A hayride where nothing happens and we can
all just chill for a while. Something nice and boring."

Kenny and Clyde nodded. Once they all finished their hot cider and recycled the cups, they headed
to the hayride loading spot. While they were waiting for the tractor to come back around, Kenny
pulled Tweek to the side.

"Hey Tweek, why don't you and Craig go on the hayride alone together?"

Tweek tensed up. "Why would you mention that?" he

whispered. "Areyoutryingtofreakmeoutrightnow?"

"No, dude, but you clearly like each other. It's a clear night out. It'd be pretty romantic to be all
alone together under the moonlight. And with the rumble of the tractor engine, no one would be
able to hear if you-"

"Gah! No! I can't! You have to go with me! I can't be alone with him or I'll freak out!"

"You're already freaking out."

Tweek grabbed Kenny's arm, squeezing like a vice. "That'swhyIneedyouwithme!"

"Okay, okay! I'll go! I guess another twenty minutes with Donovan won't kill me."

"That's right, it won't, but it might actually kill me to be around Craig alone." Tweek paused then
added under his breath, "You were certainly staring at Clyde most of the night."

"What was that?" Kenny asked.

"Hey look, the tractor is finally here!" Clyde called out.

The tractor pulled up and parked. The driver greeted each of them as they climbed aboard. Kenny
and Craig sat across from each other. Clyde boarded third. He paused, trying to decide where he
should sit. His instinct was to sit next to Craig, of course, but he knew his best bro would be
thankful later if he got to sit next to his crush. Reluctantly, he took a seat next to Kenny. Tweek
gave Kenny a wide-eyed look as he cautiously sat next to Craig on the large hay bale.

"That's all of ye'?" asked the driver.

The four boys surveyed the festival and saw no one running to try to make it to the tractor. "Guess
so," said Craig.

The tractor shifted into gear and slowly took off down the designated path. The dirt road was
bumpy at first, jostling them against each other. It was physical contact that neither Craig and
Tweek nor Kenny and Clyde had been expecting. Once the path smoothed out a bit, everyone
seemed to relax.
"Why are hayrides even a thing?" asked Tweek. "Like who's idea was it to put a big wagon full of
hay on the back of a tractor and have people sit in it. I'm pretty sure I could walk faster than this."

"I dunno. I think they're kind of relaxing," said Craig. He leaned back on his hands and looked up
at the sky. "It takes you away from the noise of the festival and you can just sit back and admire
the beauty of the stars, you know?"

Tweek watched Craig take in the night sky. A small smile formed on his face. "Yeah, I see what
you mean."

When Kenny saw Tweek's smile, he realized that Clyde had sat next to him not to purposely annoy
him, but so that Tweek and Craig would be sitting together. He felt a twinge of gratitude in his
chest. Dammit, it was hard for him to not see Clyde as the ultimate evil anymore. He did
have some good qualities, he supposed.

He leaned back on his hands as well, but when he did, he accidentally placed his hand on Clyde's.
Clyde immediately looked at his hand, then up at Kenny.

"Oh. Sorry," said Kenny as he quickly pulled it away. "Accident."

"'S'okay," said Clyde. "Just don't do it again or I'll think you like me," he teased.

After a few minutes of riding along in quiet contemplation, the tractor began to sputter and jolt.
The four boys looked among themselves in confusion. The tractor slowed down to a stop before
the engine went dead. They looked at their surroundings. They could barely see the lights from the
festival in the distance. The nearly full moon was the only light source they had, barely
illuminating the woods around them.

"Sorry about this, guys," said the driver. "It was working fine earlier today." He tried turning over
the engine a few times with no luck. "Gimme a moment and I'll get her purring like a kitten again
in no time."

They all muttered "okay", but an aura of tension was beginning to form around them.

A moment later, Clyde felt Kenny's hand back on his. This time, he was gently caressing his hand.
Clyde froze and gave Kenny a sideways glance. Had he not realized he'd been joking earlier? Was
he trying to rile him up right now to embarrass him here in the dark?

"Hey. Dude. That can't be an accident," said Clyde.

Kenny's hand quickly moved. "What's not an accident?" he asked. "The engine trouble?"

"No, McCormick. You getting all frisky with my hand."

"What? I didn't touch you, Donovan."

Kenny couldn't see Clyde roll his eyes in the dark.

The tractor engine revved up, sputtered a few times, and died again. Tweek began to slowly rock
back and forth as he grew more concerned.

Kenny's face scrunched up as he felt Clyde's hand cover his own and then slowly begin stroking in
a rather sensual manner. So this is how it was going to be. Clyde was trying to fuck with him for
some supposed wrong he did. What an asshole. He took back ever thinking he had any good
qualities.
"Seriously, Donovan? What are you, a middle schooler?" asked Kenny.

"What?" asked Clyde.

"You thought I stroked your hand, so now you're doing it to me just to fuck with me?"

"Dude, I'm not touching shit." Clyde held up both his hands for Kenny to see.

The tractor engine finally roared to life. "Finally! Here we go boys!" the driver cheered.

"Then who…?" Kenny and Clyde looked down at Kenny's hand. Then, slowly, they looked behind
them. The hand belonged to a ghastly figure grinning back at them with razor teeth.

They both screamed and grabbed each other. Tweek jumped when he heard Clyde and Kenny
scream. The ghoul leapt off the back of the hay cart and sprinted to the driver.

"Hey, stay seated back- wait, who're you? No!" The driver started to scream, but it turned into a
gurgling death rattle as the ghoul took control of the tractor.

Tweek let out a blood-curdling scream and jumped into Craig's lap. Craig had been unphased by
any of the events so far, but once Tweek was sitting in his lap, face buried in his chest, he could
barely function.

The tractor took off at a much faster rate than before. Tweek shivered in Craig's arms. Craig's hand
shivered as he began to stroke Tweek's hair to try to comfort him. Clyde and Kenny kept
screaming, pulling each other closer for protection. Their bodies were thrown from side to side as
the tractor continued.

After what felt like an eternity, the tractor began to slow to a stop once again. Craig glanced
around. It appeared they reached a dead end. At least the ghoul had the common sense not to crash
into the dead end.

The rev of a chainsaw suddenly came from the brush around them. A giant figure wielding said
chainsaw ran out of the brush and jumped up onto the hay cart. Clyde and Kenny continued to
scream in terror as the figure waved the chainsaw around in a threatening manner.

Tweek looked up at the figure as it moved in front of him and Craig. "I don't want to die," Tweek
whispered. "IDON'TWANTTODIE!" He wiggled out of Craig's arms. Pulling back his fist, he
landed a right hook into the figure's jaw.

"OW! God-fucking-dammit!" The figure dropped the chainsaw and grabbed its face, stumbling
backwards.

The ghoul popped up from the front of the tractor. So did the clearly-not-dead driver. "Darryl!
What's wrong?!"

"Darryl?" Kenny and Clyde said in unison.

"Holy shit! This small blond one is a savage. I think he dislocated my jaw! Fucking fuck,
this hurts!"

The ghoul looked at the driver. "Steve, did they not know this was the haunted hayride?"

"What? Of course they did. The sign clearly said that the haunted hayrides started after nine."

"Well clearly they thought they were in actual danger of then they wouldn't have tried to murder
Darryl!" said Shari.

"Haunted hayride?" said Tweek.

"Ah geez," said Steve. "Alright kids, let's get you back to the festival, and let's get Darryl to a
hospital."

"How're you doing, Tweek?" asked Kenny as they walked back to the parking lot. "You holding up
okay?"

"Ngh, still a little shaken, but I'll be okay."

"I can't believe you punched a dude in the face," Kenny laughed. "You're more hardcore than I
ever would've thought."

"Hey man, I'm small but feisty." Tweek grinned. "I don't know if I'd survive a horror movie, but I'd
definitely take down some motherfuckers on my way out."

The fallen leaves crunched under their feet as they walked in silence.

"Overall though, I'd say I had a great time," Tweek continued, a shit-eating grin on his face.

"Yeah, of course you feel that way. You got to sit in Craig lap. I, on the other hand, have to shower
as soon as I get home cause I now smell like Donovan's cheapass cologne." Lowering his head to
his chest, he sniffed himself. "Ugh, maybe one shower might not be enough."

"I dunno. I think you smell pretty good like that," Tweek said with a grin.

"How dare you, sir." Kenny stopped at his truck. "Anyway, get home safe and I'll see you
tomorrow."

E Honda was remarkably quiet on the ride back to the Tucker house. Craig was staring out the
passenger window, still stunned by the events of the night. Clyde was grumpy and in his head.
Clyde finally spoke up after he looked over at Craig while stopped at a traffic light.

"You certainly seem happy."

"That's cause I am happy."

More silence. Then, after a moment, Craig giggled.

Clyde pursed his lips and sighed. He was happy for Craig–ecstatic, even–but that feeling couldn't
overpower the feeling of disgust he had over having held Kenny McCormick in his arms. Sure,
they had both feared for their lives not even an hour ago, but still…that shit was gross.

"Well, I'm happy for you, bro. I'm glad you had a good time tonight," he said. "I just hope you
 didn't pop a boner while Tweek was all up on you."

"Nope. Thankfully no boner." Craig finally turned to look at Clyde. "I hope you didn't pop a boner
while you were all up on Kenny."

Clyde gripped the steering wheel. "I know you just get extra sassy when you're in a good mood,
but no, absolutely no boners were anywhere near him. If anything, I got a de-boner."

Craig smiled. "I dunno. I thought you looked pretty cute being held by Kenny."

"NO." Clyde finally cracked. "He was not holding me. I was holding him!"

Craig's smile morphed into a devilish grin. "Well then, I stand corrected. In that case, I thought you
looked pretty cute holding Kenny in your arms."

"How dare you, sir."

Chapter End Notes

Thank you for reading this fic! If you enjoyed it, please leave a kudos or a comment. I
promise I read them all the time and they make me so happy, even when I'm not
writing for over a year. ^^()

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