South Park U - Chapter 14 - papersailboats (2024)

Chapter Text

Kyle

“Hey, you think people can change?” Kenny asked, leaning back against the bleachers.

Kyle lined up his shot and sent the ball through the net. ”What?”

Kenny and Clyde had met him at the rec center for free play Thursday, shooting baskets as Ken sat on the bleachers. Normally Kenny played but he claimed he got enough workout in the “horizontal tango” with Tammy, so he was exhausted and bruised. Kyle could have gone without hearing that detail.

”Like, you think people can change without some outside force acting on them?” Ken clarified.

Kyle jogged over to the bleachers when Clyde went after the ball that had bounced away towards the group on the other court. ”Um, yeah? I mean, in high school I was Cartman’s punching bag and now he’s the loser hanging on the coattails of his sh*tbag dad and I’ll probably make Dean’s list.”

“The f*ck is a Dean’s–? Nevermind. I mean, like, at their core. Deep inside. Are sh*tty people just sh*tty, and they can’t change?”

”Since when did you get so philosophical?” Kyle teased, wiping the sweat from his brow with the hem of his shirt. Ken had his moments of hard-hitting questions, it was just usually after a couple of bong rips.

”Shut up, man. Just answer the question.”

”I don’t know. I’d like to think anyone can change if they want to.”

”But what if they don’t.”

Clyde came over, waving wildly at them, basketball in hand, ”Helloo! Exhibit A!”

“What?”

“I changed! Bebe said she wanted someone who was more invested in their future, so I got a job.”

”You got a job?” Kyle and Kenny said in unison. As far as they knew Clyde’s dad made decent money and his Mom had apparently left him a lot more money than anyone had expected when she died, so Clyde had never needed to work before.

“Yeah Bebe hooked me up at Hooters,” Clyde straightened up, grinning, “You’re looking at the new Assistant Line Cook. As of next week, anyways.”

”Seriously? You two are going to work together?” Kyle asked skeptically. It sounded like a recipe for disaster, an unwelcome image of Clyde bending Bebe over the fryer interrupting his thoughts. He’d have to remember not to eat there any time soon.

”Yeah, it’ll be fun. Plus I get a free meal and a thirty minute lunch break. This way me and Bebe can have more time to hangout at work and then I can spend more time outside of work hanging with you guys. But my point is, I wouldn’t have changed if I didn’t want to. If I had stayed the same I’d probably be out at the bars every weekend banging random slu*ts.”

Kyle snorted, grabbing the ball from Clyde and shooting again. ”As opposed to being at the bars every weekend banging Bebe?”

”Hey! It’s different. And we don’t bang at the bar. Well, we did once, but it was in the handicap bathroom!”

Kyle made a face at Clyde, muttering, “Dude, you’re disgusting,” just as Kenny high-fived him.

“So what does that mean for you and Bebe?” Kyle asked.

“What do you mean?”

“She broke up with you, you guys got back together, now you got a job because she asked you to change. So…?”

Clyde shot and shrugged, “I don’t know, it was like… like my life didn’t feel right without her in it. Bebe’s just fun. We can talk about stuff, and she’s like my best friend, but a girl. And she’s hot,” he added, smiling and nodding to himself.

That was probably the closest Clyde would get to waxing poetic about anything so Kyle accepted it. “So does that mean you’re out for Valentine’s?” The single boys usually hung out on Valentine’s Day— except Kenny, who usually hung out with Marj.

sh*t. That meant this would be Stan’s first single Valentine’s Day. Maybe this was all working out for the best, and Kyle could ask Stan to hangout to keep him busy so he wouldn’t spiral. Or if he did spiral, it would just be him and Kyle so they could avoid any public displays of pathetic mess.

“Yeah. Taking Bebe to that new Italian place. Gonna be great. You hanging with Marj, Ken?”

“Nah,” Ken replied, eyes on the ball Clyde had just shot. “Got other plans.”
Kyle shot a look Clyde’s way but he just shrugged. He didn’t know what was going on with them, but Kenny hadn’t been seen with Marj since before New Year’s, and those two were attached at the hip. And they always spent Valentine’s Day together. As friends, of course.

Maybe he didn’t have room to talk, though. Kyle hadn’t seen Stan since their night out at Chef’s, and he wasn’t really worried, no not at all, but this wasn’t like Stan and he just hoped this new change didn’t mean he was reverting back into his post break-up recluse ways. He had a habit of shutting people out when he was feeling down and Kyle had thought he’d gotten through to him, but maybe he’d been too optimistic. That was the only explanation other than…

Clyde interrupted his anxious thoughts, “What about you, Broflovski? No hot, smart chicks you wanna take out on V-Day?”

Kyle shook his head, “Probably just gonna see if Stan wants to hang,” and then when Ken gave him a curious brow, he added, “It’s his first since…”

If Stan was sliding back into a slump, spending Valentine’s day alone was sure to send him over the edge. Kyle could make sure he was going to be okay. He just hoped Stan wasn’t avoiding him because of the stupid, dumb kiss they’d shared on New Year’s.

Kyle could ignore it as much as he liked, but the nagging fear was always at the back of his mind. If he traced it back, Stan had started being weird after New Year’s and the kiss was the only thing that was different than any other holiday they spent together. He was probably freaking out about it, overthinking and had come to the conclusion that Kyle was gay and in love with him and just needed an excuse to touch his lips to Stan’s, or at least, that was what Kyle’s nagging fear was whispering in his ear every time he thought about asking Stan to hangout. So they hadn’t hung out in a couple of weeks. So what? They had started a new semester so maybe Stan really was just as “busy” as he kept saying in the group chat anytime the guys made plans. Kyle couldn’t fault Stan for burying himself in his studies.

“Oh, yeah,” Clyde added, “Good idea. At least Testaburger is back in Boulder.”

“Yeah, thank God.”

“I don’t know. Stan’s been driving me to work and he seems fine.” Ken added.

“Stan’s been driving you?” Kyle asked. So obviously Stan wasn’t in a slump if he was okay hanging with Kenny??

But that only solidified his other theory. Stan was trying to distance himself so they wouldn’t have to have The Talk. The “You’re my really good friend but I don’t like you in that way” talk. Kyle wasn’t sure he really wanted to either, but he hated the idea of this stupid thing coming between them. He was completely over Stan! It shouldn’t have to ruin their friendship.

“Yeah. Just been easier with my schedule. But back to the question. Can people change?”

“Hell yeah.” Clyde said.

Kyle pursed his lips. “I mean, I guess so.” he said, his mind going back to Stan.

Ken shook his head and got up. ”God, neverf*ckingmind. You assholes are hopeless.”

”Ken, wait,” Kyle jogged after him, his instincts winning over. If Kenny was working through something and it somehow factored into him and Marj not hanging out then maybe he just needed some support. “If someone wants to change, I believe they can. I think the important thing is support. And that they have to want to change.”

Stan was changing right before his eyes, whether it was a good thing or a bad thing. Hopefully it was for the better, and it didn't always mean spending less time with Kyle.

“Right. Thanks, Broflovski. Knew you were the right man to ask.” Kenny waved to them before explaining, “I gotta go take care of something. Y’all have fun.”

When he was gone Clyde turned to Kyle, whispering even though Kenny was long gone. “What do you think’s up with him and Marjorine? Bebe said he hasn’t been at the apartment either. The whole thing’s super awkward.”

“I don’t know.” Kyle said, swiping the ball from Clyde, “Maybe he’s the one who’s changed.”

One of the perks of being in Sig Pi U was that Kyle had a place to hangout between classes. Going home wasn’t exactly practical since it was a thirty minute drive so he usually went to the library to get in some studying, but Fitz had begged him to come hangout at the house that afternoon.

It was only the second week of classes so Kyle wasn’t too worried about missing a library study session, and he was a sucker for Fitz’ antics. He’d been very adamant about him coming to hang and that always meant he had something to say.

When he arrived Fitz and the other freshman guys sat around in the game room of the SPU house, cheering when they spotted Kyle.

“Ayy, Broflovski!”

“‘Bout time you showed up!”

Kyle blushed but shrugged them off, muttering, “Yeah, yeah. What’s going on?” “We’re picking where we’re going for Spring break.”

“Spring break?” Kyle repeated skeptically.

“Yeah, you know, a week off of school, a week off from studying.” Fitz emphasized the last word, giving Kyle a look. Something told him he wasn’t in for anything good.

“I know what it is. I just wasn’t planning on going anywhere.” Kyle’s family usually went on vacation for Spring Break every year— places close enough to drive, but Kyle had managed to squeeze his way out this time, so he was looking forward to getting the house to himself for a week. A whole seven days without Ike pestering him or his mom nagging him? Heaven on Earth.

Lawson groaned, “You can’t miss Spring break, dude!”

“It’s gonna be epic!” Someone yelled.

“Yeah, who’s gonna boss us around” Trevor added, smirking at his own joke.

“Ha-ha. Where are you guys trying to go?” Kyle begrudgingly asked.

“South Padre.” Shawn, their most “country” brother stated, grinning.

“What the hell is that?”

“Island in texas.”

“Why?”

“It’s cheap and there are gonna be DJs on the beach the whole weekend. It’s where everyone who’s anyone goes.” Fitz explained, like that was at all going to convince Kyle to go.

“Yeah, I don’t know about that.”

“Aww, c’mon Broflovski!” Fitz elbowed him and then lowered his voice, “Plenty of hot, single men on the beach ready to party. We have all our lives to be stuffy and boring.” The other guys all got into separate discussions about flying versus driving, where they would stay, who from the other fraternities and sororities would be going. Obviously there wasn’t even a chance of getting them to go somewhere else.

“Gee, sounds really enticing.” Kyle said sarcastically.

It’s not like he thought he and Fitz were going to run off into the sunset after they’d hooked up on New Year’s, but Fitz had since been really, extremely casual about the whole thing.

The casual hookup was new to Kyle and he wasn’t sure he liked it. At least with David it had felt like they were something more than a one night stand. But he and Fitz were also actually friends, so maybe it was better this way. No drama.

He really only had himself to blame for this. He knew who Fitz was and who he wasn’t, and something about him had never screamed “ready for a serious boyfriend” and it’s not like Kyle was ready either, since he still hadn’t officially come out yet.

“Dude, you have to come. I can’t be stuck in my dorm with my roommate the whole week. And you know he won’t go home.”

“You know you can go without me, right?” Somehow Kyle had been elected unofficial president of their pledge class, mostly because he ended up taking the most responsibility for their antics. He was sure they were all assuming he would continue this role on the beach, and that particular scenario wasn’t exactly enticing either.

“Yeah, but we’ve got the whole good cop, bad cop thing going for us. I don’t wanna have to be bad cop on the beach.” Fitz whined.

Kyle sighed, “And you think I do?”

“Aw, c’mon. You already said Mama B let you get out of the Grand Canyon. What’s stopping you?”

Fitz had taken to referring to his Mom as “Mama B” and both he and Sheila thought it was the greatest thing ever. Of course his mom loved Fitz because he was the ultimate schmoozer when it came to parents— a self-proclaimed title.

Kyle sighed. He did have a point. Everyone else would probably be doing their own thing or on vacation or working or possibly avoiding him. He deserved to let off some steam and get out of South Park. “Fine. I’ll go. But not as pledge class president. When we get there I’m just Kyle.”

“Dude, nobody here calls you Kyle.”

“Broflovski, whatever. Just don’t expect me to be taking on dad duties on the beach. As far as I’m concerned this is my vacation.”

Fitz mock-saluted him, sitting up straighter. “I’ll be sure to let everyone know you’re out of office, Mr. President.”

“f*ck off, dude.” Kyle rolled his eyes as the others cheered at his surrender to their Spring Break shenanigans. It was probably going to be awful and he’d probably regret it, but at least he was wanted somewhere.

Kenny

Kenny shoved empty shoe boxes aside and grabbed the heavy case in the back of his parents’ closet, pulling it down onto the floor and kneeling in front of it. The code for the lock was the same as it always was— Kevin’s birthday.

The case popped open with the familiar click of the open lock.

It was time to bring out the big guns.

He turned his old man’s gun over, examining it with care. It was just as black, smooth, and heavy with the impending implication of death as it had been the last time he held it. Something about it had always felt painfully foreboding yet oddly sentimental.

Somehow Stuart hadn’t noticed it wasn't there in the eight years it was underground at Stan’s, but even if he had, Kenny supposed he wouldn’t have heard about it.

He had tried Kyle’s way, and it had gotten him into the same exact position he woke up in every morning.

“Hey man,” Kenny said the third time Bill came after him, “listen. I’m not with Danielle anymore. Haven’t seen her in–”

A bullet to the chest.

“Bill. Please, just listen. I haven’t seen your wife since–”

A knockout punch.

“This isn’t you, man. Think about your kids. Think about your future.”

That time Woodrow had knocked him over the head with a wrench and dragged him out to a storage unit in Alma before finishing the job with an impressive array of power tools.

So Kenny had woken up that morning and gasped, thrust awake by the events of the day prior. And it took him several minutes to catch his bearings, remember where he was and what had happened— yada yada, the usual.

At this point he wasn’t even surprised anymore. Turns out his assumptions after the first time Bill came after him were correct; Bill never remembered killing him. Whatever magic mojo juju had made him unable to die was always resetting the clock on his serial killer brain. And that was what it was because at this point Bill’s body count was probably higher than Ted Bundy. Ken had lost count after the first fifteen times.

And he was getting more creative, too. That was the weird thing. It started with the handgun, then he was using an AR-15 to hunt Ken down between the rows of houses in Tammy’s neighborhood, then a f*cking wrench on the side of highway 9. He’d used his truck once as Ken was walking out of Prather’s, narrowly missing an old lady pushing a shopping cart across the lot.

So that was a new development. If Bill was never remembering killing Kenny, then what made him change up his methods? Just opportunity? His mood for the day? How much time he had to think about it?

Ken had been wondering what had happened to Bill’s brain after the timeline reset, if it got scrambled enough to where Bill wouldn’t have decided to come after him. But… if the KFC meeting hadn’t been a coincidence… Bill might’ve been planning this for weeks, at the least. If Ken’s limited knowledge of his condition was law, it only really erased anything directly related to the act. Only the last dominoes involved in his downfall were set back up in formation. Everything else before that was forever laid out as it had happened the first go around. Bill had to have been planning to take Kenny out before Christmas Eve, at least.

Ken turned the thick weapon in his hands one more time before emptying the chamber, bullets thunking out into the case.

Kenny wasn’t a killer. He might have beaten the sh*t out of one or two or twenty-three people but he’d never killed anyone. He wasn’t planning to now, but intimidating Bill right back seemed like the only way to get him to stop. He just had to make sure Bill didn’t kill him in the process.

The only option was to get a leg up on Bill and explain things. It wasn’t really Kenny’s fault Danielle had cheated on him, or left him, or changed the locks on the house– All things Ken had learned had happened over the course of the last six weeks– It seemed the more that things developed between Danielle and Bill, the more volatile he got.

Kenny texted Stan back that he was coming outside and quickly stashed the gun in his backpack.

Kyle was wrong. Bill was an angry drunk who would never change. Kenny would just have to knock some sense into him.

“Thanks for the ride, Stannyboy.” Kenny said as he hopped into Stan’s mom’s car.

Kenny had managed to switch shifts with some people so that he worked the same days as Stan, and then convinced him to pick him up and drop him off for every shift.

While he was being hunted he had been actively trying to spend as little time alone as possible. That was the only way he could be sure he was safe.

Stan had seemed overly excited to be his chauffeur, so Ken convinced himself he was doing it as a favor to him. He must have been so starved for company that he was down to make the longer trip to pick him up. Stan had been scarce lately, but apparently his second semester schedule required more studying. f*ck, what Ken wouldn’t give for normal problems like studying.

Instead, today he’d be looking out for Bill’s truck weaving in and out of traffic behind them. Today he’d be prepared.

There wasn’t ever really a need to be aware of his surroundings before so that was how Bill always caught him off guard. But now he knew his routine. Where he lived, where he previously worked, where he went every night at 10 p.m., how long he stayed outside Danielle’s house, sipping shooters in his car.

“No problem,” Stan said, smiling over at him.

What Stan didn’t know was that Kenny didn’t work today. If this didn’t go according to plan today he was going in to quit.

He’d held out on the hope that maybe things would blow over. That Bill would give up or Marj would forget about him.

Kenny didn’t believe in omens or superstitions but maybe that old bat God was trying to tell him something with Bill killing him before he could apologize to Marj outside McCall’s.

Kenny was meant to leave her the f*ck alone. At least until he sorted out this business with Woodrow.

But she’d texted and called and attempted to get on the same shift as him and then when he saw her cute little blonde braids in the store that day he’d ran out and called in sick again, having Karen forge a doctor’s note for him.

He knew he couldn’t avoid Marj forever, and it wasn’t fair to her or anyone else working there for Kenny to put them in jeopardy, so quitting it was if he couldn’t get Woodrow off his back.

“Marj still on different shifts now?” Stan asked as they started down Ken’s street.

“Yeah.”

Kenny peeked around the corner to where he knew Bill’s truck was parked, waiting for him to leave, he assumed. He’d seen it earlier and half-expected Bill to come barreling into his house, but so far it was crickets and no sign of life inside the cabin. Tinted windows didn’t help, either.

“You okay?”

“Yeah. Just distracted. Busy.”

“With what?”

“Work and stuff. What about you, college boy? Broflovski said you guys haven’t hung out in weeks.” Ken had noticed those two were distant in the last couple of weeks, but hadn’t addressed it yet— he’d had bigger fish to fry— but it would be a welcome distraction from his own problems now.

“Oh, yeah. Um, second semester is kicking my ass.”

Ken watched in the side mirror as Bill’s truck got smaller behind them. sh*t, maybe he wouldn’t follow. All that build up for nothing, and then he’d have to watch his back the rest of the day.

“Why don’t you have Broflovski help you?” Ken asked, half-listening. Sure enough, that black truck was rolling up behind them at the stop sign. Bill was careful about getting Kenny alone, so he wasn’t too worried about Stan.

“He’s busy with school and stuff, too. Probably has his own classwork.”

“Hm.”

“He… asked me to hangout on Valentine’s Day, though.”

“Oh yeah he mentioned that.” Ken didn’t elaborate that Kyle had asked to make sure Stan wasn’t going to be a moping mess. Actually, the only person who’d be a moping mess was probably Kenny and… sh*t. If all of this other sh*t was setting Woodrow off, Valentine’s Day was going to be his own personal 9/11.

“You hanging with Marjorine?” Stan asked politely.

“Nah.”

“Really? You guys always—“

Ken whipped his head around, “I f*ckin’ know! Jesus!”

“Okay… Jesus, dude, what’s your deal? Are you guys in a fight or something?”

“Nah… just… think she’s… wanting things I can’t give her.” Things he shouldn’t give her. It was better this way. Marj stayed safe, physically and mentally. It was a good enough excuse for why he’d been keeping his distance. He didn’t really… he hadn’t really thought about all of that— what happened, or rather, almost happened on Christmas Eve— since before the New Year. And he wasn’t about to let his thoughts get tangled up in it now when he needed to focus.

“Oh.” Stan didn’t pry anymore, which Kenny was grateful for. “Well then are you gonna hang with me and Kyle?”

“Maybe later at night.” If he made it through the day tomorrow maybe he’d be clear to be around his friends, but he couldn’t risk it otherwise.

“Oh, what, got a hot date with Tammy?” Stan teased.

“Nah. Haven’t seen her in weeks.”

“Oh, so you haven’t…?” Ken looked over when Stan hadn’t continued his question and saw he was blushing. Jesus Christ. “Is that the last time you’ve…”

“f*ckin’ spit it out, Marsh.” Kenny said, not taking his eyes off of the side mirror.

“You’re not getting laid?”

“Guess not. Been busy,” he replied distractedly. He’d lost him in traffic but he knew he was still behind them.

“Do you feel like you’re, like… pent up?”

“Pent up?”

“Like when you haven’t… gotten off in a while.”

“Don’t usually go that long without rubbing one out, at least. Why?”

“I… haven’t in a while. So I think it’s making me…” Stan trailed off.

Ken turned to him then, full attention held. “Horny?”

“Uh, yeah. But, like… more than normal.”

Ken had always suspected Stan wasn’t blowing Testaburger’s back out but maybe they were getting down more than he’d thought.

“Yeah that’s what happens when you don’t get your dick wet on a regular basis.”

“But do you ever feel like it’s making you really sensitive? To anything?”

Oh. “Oh. Uh, yeah, sure. When we were kids and my mom hid my dad’s p*rn stash I’d jerk it to the lady on the butter tub if I was desperate.” Ken shrugged. And maybe once or twice afterwards just because the thrill of it being off-limits made the payoff better.

“The Land-O-Lakes girl?”

“Yeah. It did the job. But we have the internet now, man. Just get on p*rnhub.”

“I… what if that doesn’t…?”

Kenny raised a brow. He probably didn’t have room to talk. He hadn’t had sex in three weeks, but dying every other day really killed your libido. “I don’t know, man. Call up one of Cassie’s girls or buy a fleshlight. You still got that VR headset your dad bought?”

“Uh, I don’t think so.” Stan said as they parked and got out of the car.

Kenny drummed his hands on the top of the car, saying, “Don’t think I can help you then. Just gotta find a way to jerk it.”

There was no time to help Stan with his sex woes, whatever they were. He needed to be alert and alone when he faced Bill. He couldn’t risk Stan hanging around in the garage.

“Thanks for the tip,” Stan said sarcastically. “You coming?”

“You go ahead. I’m gonna get a smoke in before my shift starts.”

Stan accepted Kenny’s excuse to stay back and locked the car behind him.

Kenny took a long drag and leaned back against the garage wall by the doors into the mall, deciding on how to look the most casual and like he wasn’t planning on pistol whipping anyone today.

Like clockwork, Bill’s truck came up the ramp and parked a couple of rows down. He’d set the trap, now all he had to do was wait.

Suddenly nervous, Ken felt for the gun in his backpack. He’d have to sneak up on him. The f*cker was strong— Kenny knew that well enough— so getting in a fistfight was too risky.

Woodrow sat in the truck for what felt like a half hour. What was that asshole doing in there? Ken half-decided to call it quits and just go inside.

But finally he emerged at a leisurely pace, shoving his wallet into the back pocket of his jeans in the open car door, as if going after Kenny was a typical Tuesday afternoon activity. Guess technically it is, but Bill wouldn’t know that.

Ken rolled his eyes as he watched him run his fingers through his hair and check his reflection in the side mirror for the third time.

For f*ck’s sake. This was taking too long.

It was now or never.

Careful not to make any noise, Kenny pulled the gun out of his backpack and crept up behind Bill, ducking so he wouldn’t see him in the side mirror.

When he was right behind him, Kenny co*cked his gun, “Don’t f*cking move.”

Bill froze, hands slowly lifting from his head in surrender. From two feet away and standing up straight Bill had a clear view of Kenny behind him in the side mirror. Recognition passed over his face, but then his brows furrowed. That wasn’t what he noticed though. He never really got the chance to study Woodrow up close. His eyes were sunken and bloodshot, like he hadn’t slept in months.

“My… my wallet’s in my back pocket, just please don’t hurt me!” he cried, reaching for his back pocket.

“I said don’t f*cking move!” Kenny yelled, shaking the gun. f*ck, he should’ve practiced his stance or something. He hadn’t exactly had a chance to study Bill’s handling of his own weapons, either.

“Okay,” Bill said slowly, “I’m just gonna…”

Everything happened so fast he didn’t have time to react when Bill whipped around and knocked the gun out of Kenny’s hand, sending it skittering out across the garage.

A moment passed where they both stared at the gun in understanding.

Then Bill booked it.

f*ck, guess it was starting in a fist fight.

One punch to Bill’s jaw was all Ken needed and his fist just barely hit the target, awkwardly landing on his chin and causing him to teeter in his pursuit of Kenny’s gun.

He wasn’t winning a battle in combat, he already knew that, so it was time for a gamble.

While Bill scrambled up to chase after Kenny’s gun, which had somehow traveled twenty feet, Kenny dove into Bill’s truck through the open driver’s side door. If Bill had come here to do what Kenny thought he had then he’d have a gun in there somewhere. From his past experience should have a whole artillery stashed.

As if Bill had been sitting in here contemplating bringing the gun in this whole time, it was just sitting out on the passenger’s seat. That and a sh*tton of empty American Honey shooters.

“Freeze, you little sh*t!” Bill yelled from behind him.

Kenny had to keep himself from smirking as he turned around. “Whaddaya gonna do? Shoot me?”

“I just might. You’d deserve it, you fistf*cker. You ruined my–”

Kenny finished his sentence, “--life, f*cked your wife, and now she kicked you out and you can’t see your kids. Get a new f*ckin’ line, man.” Kenny drawled, not flinching at all as Bill co*cked the gun, aimed now at his chest. Bill’s own rifle was behind him, a quick grab away from pointing it back at its owner, but maybe it didn’t need to come to that.

His knowledge of Bill’s headspace seemed to stump Bill for a moment, but he didn’t lower the gun. Yup, never changing. “Well,” Woodrow sneered, “Now I can kill you and I don’t even have to worry about the fallout. I’ll just tell them you were rummaging through my truck.”

“You never did.” Kenny muttered, deciding this conversation was over. He grabbed for Bill’s rifle behind him just as he heard the click of his dad’s gun. This f*cking guy.

“What the f*ck?”

Taking advantage of his confusion, Kenny slammed the end of the rifle into Bill’s head, and that caught him off guard enough to send him sprawling to the ground, just enough time for Kenny to stand over him and aim it down at his head as he lay out on the ground.

“Nice f*cking try, co*cksucker.” Ken said, gun pointed at its owner’s skull. “Willing to bet you got bullets in here.”

Bill’s eyes flitted to the barrel of the gun briefly. Yeah, it was loaded. “You–you won’t do it!” he cried, shaking. Jesus, this guy could take Kenny out left and right without flinching but just about pissed his pants when he was on the other end of the barrel? Maybe Danielle was right, he was just a bitter drunk puss*.

Kenny co*cked the gun and Bill swallowed.

“Please,” he whined, practically in tears. “I’ve got a family, kids.”

“Yeah? The family you’ve been treating like sh*t and abandoned?”

The gun was loaded. Kenny thought about it, he really f*cking thought about it. It would be too easy to rid everyone on the planet of this scumbag.

But he wasn’t a killer, and he damn well couldn’t take Bill out in the middle of the garage. Too risky if he didn’t finish the job with his own shot to the head. The universe erased everything related to Kenny’s deaths, but that didn’t mean it would erase him blowing Bill's brains out on the camera by the stairs. They definitely checked them, Kenny would know.

Kenny fisted Bill’s shirt and pulled, leaning over him, “Then stop f*cking stalking me. Stop coming by my place. The mall. All of it. You brought this one on yourself man.” Kenny said, gun aimed at Woodrow’s temple.

“O—okay, kid. I—I wasn’t gonna do it till you—”

“You already have,” he muttered, tightening his grip on Bill’s shirt.

“—I was just mad at Danielle. Just don’t kill me, please. I’ve put my family through enough, I know. I’m–I’m gonna make it better. Came here to buy her some flowers. Gonna apologize. I’ll stop drinking. I lasted almost three days!”

Hm. It could’ve been complete bullsh*t but that would explain why he hadn’t come for Kenny this week yet.

Kenny leaned down close and put the barrel of the gun to Bill’s forehead. He had to make it look good for it to be believable.

“Good. Stay away from me or I’ll put a bullet in your brain.”

Kenny stepped back, still on alert in case he tried to pull anything more.

“You’re… serious?”

“Yeah. Now get the f*ck out of here before I change my mind.”

Bill asked no more questions, scrambling away and into his truck. He was peeling out of the garage before Kenny even made it to the doors into the mall. puss*.

He was still shaking his head as he unloaded the bullets from Bill’s gun and discarded it in the trash can. That would be a fun find for the night staff.

Ken guessed he might as well smoke another cig now that he’d almost died and almost killed someone in the same sentence.

Somehow no one had come around when they were having their standoff, but a mom and her two kids gave him dirty looks as he leaned against the wall and took a long drag. Whatever. He’d probably actually just saved their lives by getting Bill to book it out of there.

Exhaling, Kenny closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the cement wall. The plan had turned out okay, but he wasn’t in the clear yet. Tomorrow was V-Day and that would be the ultimate test. Then Kenny would know he was good. Maybe he’d actually gotten through to Woodrow. Maybe Bill was good for his word and Kenny could stay at Build-a-bear.

Maybe he could be around Marj again.

Before he knew it he was pulling open the door into the mall, headed for the person he’d been missing the most. His feet moved forward without any thought, powering him past the annoying kiosk workers and chattery mall goers, past Stan in the GameStop window straightening display racks, all the way to the big yellow and blue structuring of the Build-A-Bear storefront.

For a moment he stood outside the store like a little kid in awe of all of the goings on. Just a five year old amazed at the stuffing machine and all the accessories and the bears. But Kenny wasn’t looking at all that. He was looking at the cheerful bright-eyed blonde girl by the register, smiling and crouched next to a little boy who hugged a teddy bear in a Rockies uniform.

Kenny swallowed. She looked happy. She looked like someone who was better off without him.

But tomorrow… it would be the first Valentine’s Day they hadn’t spent some portion of the day together. It didn’t feel right. Would she be devastated? Maybe they could just—

No. Better to play it safe. Marj would have a better Valentine’s Day without him than if Bill came back for vengeance and she had to watch him splatter Kenny’s brains out on the sidewalk in front of her apartment.

That didn’t mean Ken couldn’t at least send her something. Make sure she knew he hadn’t completely abandoned her.

He walked on until he recognized the frilly pink and purple decorations in the Zoe’s window. He stopped in front, contemplating for a moment. He knew he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t stand the thought of her getting nothing on Valentine’s Day. It was her third favorite holiday, after all.

Stan

G comes before K. And then J before I. sh*t– No. That wasn’t right.

Stan switched the games he’d misfiled back into alphabetical order and silently cursed himself. He’d taken to doing everything and anything to keep from thinking about hanging out with Kyle tomorrow. Valentine’s Day.

He hadn’t replied to Kyle’s text yet, but he didn’t have to pull it up, he’d already memorized it.

Kyle: Hey what are you doing Wednesday?

Wednesday, as in Valentine’s Day.

Stan ignored the unease flowing through him and silenced the alarm bells. Kyle wanted to spend Valentine’s Day with him. Not Marlo or Brittany or anyone else. They could actually spend Valentine’s Day doing something fun like playing video games or… video games. They’d only be playing video games. Duh. Of course.

Obviously it wouldn’t mean anything to Kyle, but spending a romantic holiday, just the two of them… it made Stan’s stomach churn.

Earlier Stan had typed out I’m totally free! and then backspaced because that sounded way too eager so he typed Let me check my schedule after, and then backspaced again because that was f*cking lame and Kyle knew he didn’t have a schedule to check and then after thinking on several other replies he settled and sent the message, ignoring the anticipation seeping through him.

The truth was, Stan missed Kyle. The last month and a half had been miserable without his best friend to come over for study sessions or kick his ass on the basketball court or laugh about the stupid sh*t Cartman posted on TikTok or talk about anything and everything as they smoked in the back of the Odyssey.

It’s not like Stan hadn’t actually been busy with school, it was just that he had needed time to figure out what was going on with him– And Kenny’s suggestion, whether a joke or not, was absolutely off the table.

No, Stan was better than that. He wouldn’t be so controlled by whatever strange new feelings he was having that he couldn’t help himself. He wouldn’t be like Randy, so weak that he couldn’t handle his urges.

But that didn’t mean Stan didn’t think about it.

Stan thought about it a lot, actually. In the shower. In his bed right before he was about to go to sleep at night. On the way to work. At work when he was handing out fries or ringing up games from the discount bin.

He’d never had any interest in guys before, so why was it that all of a sudden he was rethinking things? Having dreams… looking at things in a new light.

And Stan wasn’t even really sure what he wanted. He knew the basics of… of how guys hooked up, but it’s not like he had any reference to go off of and the dreams he had never got past kissing, like he hadn’t unlocked that level yet. When he tried to picture anything more the anxiety bubbled up in his stomach.

What if he didn’t even really like guys and he was just confused about the kiss he and Kyle had shared on New Year’s Eve. It was just the first time in a long time Stan had remotely reacted to any type of intimacy— on skan*gsiving he’d been too f*cked up to remember anything with Wendy and even before that… God, he really should have seen the break-up coming. Stan and Wendy hadn’t had sex since the beginning of summer.

He had no f*cking clue what to do. The irony was that the one person he would have turned to for advice about this was the person he was having these thoughts about. He couldn’t just ask something like this to Kyle. Unless maybe he left out who he was referring to. But what if this was just some weird fluke? Like Stan was so determined to get over Wendy and pent up and now he had permanent trauma because of how long they had dated so his brain was latching onto the next closest person to him? That could be it, right? Because Stan wasn’t having these thoughts about other guys. It was just Kyle.

Or maybe he was totally gay and didn’t even realize until now?

As he switched game cases around Stan went through every sexual encounter he and Wendy had had, observing them with new eyes. But nope, he had definitely been into her sexually and had no problem getting off to her.

Stan took his place back at the counter as a customer approached and shook off all of the questions bouncing around in his head. Focus, dude.

Luckily the beginning of the spring semester meant they were all busy with new classes so Stan didn’t have to make up excuses for why he wasn’t hanging as much. He’d gotten the text from Clyde that the guys were headed up to the Rec Center, but the thought of having to face Kyle was causing the nerves to bubble up in his stomach.

When Ken had asked him to pick him up he’d practically jumped at the chance. If Kenny was in the car with Stan he wouldn’t find his mind wandering into dangerous territory, wondering about what Kyle was doing at that moment.

It was weird, Stan could sit next to Kenny and talk with him about sex, and Kenny wasn’t unattractive, Stan knew that. Thinking about Kenny… getting laid just didn’t set him off the way thinking about Kyle did. The way thinking about Kyle wrapping his fingers around himself made Stan feel warm in places he couldn’t explain.

The customer finally approached the register and slapped a game onto the counter, the noise bringing Stan back to reality and making him realize he knew this customer very well.

“Oh, hey Craig.”

“Hey, Stan. Long time, no see.” Craig said in that familiar stuffed up monotone. He had insane allergies so more often than not he had that nasally tinge to his voice.

“Yeah. Been busy.”

Tweek had been in a couple of days before to buy Balder’s Gate 3 for Craig for his birthday. But he wouldn’t mention it now as Craig’s birthday was still a couple of days away.

”Just this?” Stan grabbed the case and frowned. “Sims?”

”Yeah. Tweek’s obsessed. I think it helps with the twitching. Makes him focus and stuff.”

”Oh, really?” Stan couldn’t help but smile. Craig was always so thoughtful when it came to Tweek.

”Yeah. He likes building houses. We started a YouTube channel.”

“And you, what, build stuff? And people watch?”

”Tweek builds. And then he plays through the families while I give commentary. People love it.” Craig shrugged. “Our account is WillowCreek1217 if you wanna follow. Sometimes Marjorine collabs with us.”

”Really?” Craig and Tweek were on Youtube? They collaborated with Marjorine? Why did Stan know absolutely nothing about his other friends?

“Yeah. It’s pretty sweet. This one came out last week, so I’m giving it to him tonight for V-Day and then we can try it together.”

Stan bagged the game while Craig paid, thinking about what he said.

Getting each other video games for Valentine’s Day and then playing them together actually sounded really f*cking cool. And the thought of doing that with another guy… it didn’t gross him out. Not at all. And now that he thought about it, half the time Craig and Tweek just seemed like really close best friends. Like Stan and Kyle…

“Hey, Craig?” Stan called out as Craig made to leave.

”Yeah?”

”Umm, can I ask you a personal question?” Maybe it was stupid, but Stan was going f*cking crazy thinking about whatever was going on in his head that he hadn’t been able to talk about with anyone else.

”Sure.”

”Uh… how did you know you liked guys?”

”What?”

”Like… how did you know?”

Craig shrugged, “I liked holding hands with Tweek. And then I liked kissing him.”

”Oh. Okay, yeah. That makes sense.”

“Cool. See ya.” Craig left Stan to ponder over his comments at the vacant counter.

Hm. Stan had liked doing those things with Wendy. Was it really that simple, though?

He turned back to the shelves on the wall, distracted as he sifted through the games and grabbed the out of place ones. Did he like kissing Kyle? Maybe. It wasn’t like a real kiss so how could he be sure? But the idea of kissing him again… it sent a new wave of nausea through him. So maybe that meant he didn’t want Kyle in that way?

He was f*cking kidding himself. By now Stan knew very well what each type of stomach churns meant. There was when he was anxious-nervous, like right before he rode a rollercoaster. There was dreading-nervous, like right before taking a test. And there was anticipating nervous, like when he had taken Wendy on their first date, and like how he was feeling right now, as he imagined Kyle leaning over in his blazer, pressing his lips to Stan’s and—

“Hey, Alex. Can I take my lunch break?” Stan called out, not bothering to wait for his Manager’s approval. He desperately needed a distraction, even if it meant watching teenagers make out at the Auntie Anne’s kiosk.

The bustling food court was the perfect solution. Plenty of people watching as Stan stood in the line for Chipotle, but that also meant open tables were scarce.

Right before he gave up, he spotted Marjorine sitting a couple of tables away, tray from Taco Bell in front of her.

They had eaten together in the cafeteria once or twice before when their lunch breaks lined up, but they weren’t close like they used to be, so Stan sometimes just didn’t know what to talk with her about.

But it was that or the break room at GameStop, staring at a blank wall or the messages icon in his phone, waiting for Kyle’s response, so he walked up to her. “Hey Marj, can I sit with you?”

“Oh, hey, Stan! Yeah, of course!” She pulled her tray in closer so Stan could sit across from her. “How’s GameStop doing?”

“Pretty good these days. Lots of people spending leftover Christmas money.”

“Same! Build-A-Bear stays busy pretty much up until Valentine’s Day.”

“Right. Valentine’s Day…” Tomorrow. When he was supposed to hangout with Kyle. “Marjorine, I know we’re not really that close anymore, but could I ask you a question?”

She took a sip of her drink. “Sure.”

“How… did you know you like guys. I mean, before. When you were— when you hadn’t transitioned yet?”

Her eyebrows shot up, as if she hadn’t been expecting the question, but she shrugged in the next beat. “I don’t know, guys gave me those tingly feelings that never really happened with girls. Like… ‘liking’ girls was like doing cosplay for me back then. Like a play I didn’t really understand why I was in.”

Stan nodded, thinking again about his own experience. He definitely liked girls, he just maybe thought he didn’t not like the idea of guys either. “But there wasn’t ever a time where you thought you might like both?”

“I mean, before I transitioned I entertained the idea for a little while. And I know I was kinda hypersexual when it came to girls, but then I realized I was so interested in girls because I wanted to be one, not be with one.”

Stan nodded again. He definitely didn’t wanna be a girl, that’s for sure.

Marjorine eyed him. “But… bisexuality is pretty common. Some people do like both.”

“Okay,” Stan swallowed. He wasn’t ready to divulge any of his sexuality problems quite yet, “good to know.”

“Can I ask you something now?” She asked, "Just between us?”

“Sure.” Stan said, ignoring the unease creeping through him. Oh god, was she about to ask him if he was into guys? Maybe he shouldn’t have been so forward with his question.

“Is… Kenny okay? He’s been… scarce. At least around me.” She said the last part quietly, playing with the Taco Bell wrapping on her tray.

“Oh. Um, I don’t know, honestly. I never really understand what’s going through Kenny’s mind half the time.”

“Yeah, guess that’s fair. I'm just worried about him, you know?”

“He has seemed kinda off lately, but I think it’s just a Kenny thing. May need to just let him work it out himself.” Stan explained, thinking about what Kenny had said the day before. Since he’d been so determined to avoid Kyle while he figured things out he hadn’t realized Kenny and Marj weren’t hanging out.

He suddenly felt a sort of kinship with Marj. If what Kenny had said was true then maybe she’d tipped Kenny off that she wanted more and he was trying to spare her feelings.

Oh god, would that end up happening with Stan and Kyle?

“Yeah, probably.” Marj pursed her lips, eyes focused on the design on her drink cup.

Stan felt he needed to change the subject for both of their sakes so he brought up Craig’s visit. “So Craig told me you guys do YouTube collabs?”

“Oh my God, yes! They’ve really taken off…” Marjorine chattered on about the Sims 4 community while Stan nodded politely, scarfing down his meal.

It was nice to talk with Marj again. Turns out she was still into some of the things he was— back before Wendy made him give that stuff up. Stuff like anime and board games and some video games too.

When they’d both finished they got up to throw away their trash and walked together until they reached GameStop, where Stan stopped to part ways.

“Let me know when you catch up on the new season.” Marj said, stopping as well.

Stan smiled. “I will, This was nice. We should eat lunch together more often.” he said. And he honestly meant it. Talking with Marjorine had been a nice distraction and Stan thought he might want to actually get back into some of that stuff he and Marjorine had bonded over back in the day. It would keep him occupied, at least.

“Okay, yeah that sounds great!” Marj nodded enthusiastically. They made plans to eat lunch again on Saturday before she waved and headed towards her own store.

After he clocked back in then there was nothing to do but let his mind wander back to their earlier conversation.

He just needed to approach it the way Kyle would have. Practically and logically.

Bisexual. He could totally be that. Maybe.

So what, he was bisexual? That was it. And that was totally fine. There were lots of bisexual guys he knew! Well, knew of. Like apparently some of the guys in Kyle’s fraternity. And Kyle was totally okay with them, so it’s not like Kyle wouldn’t be okay with Stan if he found out. And everyone was cool with Tweek and Craig.

That totally explained it. Stan had to be bisexual! But he didn’t realize before so all of his attraction was just funneled towards Kyle. Sure, Stan thought Kyle was attractive and obviously he was his best friend but the last thing Stan wanted to do was jeopardize their friendship by professing his desires and then having Kyle embarrassingly reject him. And it would be embarrassing, because he knew Kyle would be so f*cking nice about it too. He wasn’t sure if he’d prefer that over Kyle outright avoiding him like Kenny apparently was with Marj.

Nope. No way. That was absolutely off the table.

He was just going to have to keep himself under control until he figured all of this out. Tomorrow would be the real test, now that he thought he might be maybe possibly bisexual.

The next morning Stan checked his appearance in the mirror one more time and then zoomed past his mom out the front door.

“Bye, going to hang with Kyle. Be back later!”

He didn’t have a chance to hear what Sharon replied before he was out the door. She was going to see Randy today, so on top of Stan being excited to just hang with Kyle, it was also a good excuse not to go with her. He wasn’t avoiding it, he was just really busy. Randy would have to wait. Again.

“Hey.” Kyle smiled as Stan closed the passenger door to the Odyssey after he got in. Stan swallowed, facing forward and definitely not psychoanalyzing why Kyle’s smile made him feel so warm. But was it friendship warm or I wanna take your clothes off warm?

Kyle was wearing one of his Fraternity shirts in blue and some sweatpants. Stan hadn’t opted for anything fancy either but he suddenly felt as if everything about this day had a subtext to it. Did he think Kyle looked especially good in that shirt now, or just because he knew Kyle really enjoyed being in his fraternity and what made Kyle happy made Stan happy? Did he hang on every word Kyle said on the way to lunch because he was… into him, or was it just that they were super best friends?

“Oh, brought you these.” Kyle handed Stan a cellophane bag with some candies in it. “All the ones I don’t like. Happy Valentine’s.” he flashed that smile at Stan again before looking in the rearview mirror behind them.

“Thanks.” Stan said, surveying the bag’s contents like heart-shaped chocolates were the most interesting things in the world. It was all he could do not to melt again.

Finally unwrapping one, he shoved it in his mouth and slid further down in his seat. He was in way over his head.

Chef’s was the only place in town that wasn’t on a crazy wait or completely full with reservations that day so they grabbed a booth in the back, joking about how it looked completely different during the day when the tables weren’t pushed aside to make room for the dance floor.

“Yeah, looks a little different when the floor isn’t covered in rum and co*ke and… co*ke.” Kyle noted.

Stan laughed loudly at Kyle’s joke and then abruptly snapped his mouth shut.

sh*t, why was he laughing so hard? Kyle was sure to notice. It hadn’t actually been that funny.

Kyle gave him a look. “You okay, dude?”

“Yeah. Totally fine!”

Stan was grateful when the waitress came over to take their drink orders and even though it was daytime and noon on a Wednesday he ordered a beer. He needed it.

Kyle gave him another look when he ordered it but didn’t say anything else.

They talked about all of the usual; school and how second semester was going, Stan asked Kyle about Sig Pi U because the more Kyle talked the less Stan could let his mind wander and he liked seeing Kyle talk about school and his fraternity, watching the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled or the way he mimicked other people in conversations. Stan replied with his own school update and then, of course, the subject of basketball came up.

“Been missing you out on the court the past couple weeks.” Kyle said, pulling the wrapper off of his straw. Stan’s eyes caught on his hands and he momentarily got distracted. Those long, slender fingers. The ones that appeared in Stan’s dreams cupping Stan’s cheek like on New Year’s, or brushing his side as they lay in bed next to each other.

Those hands he had just been mentally fawning over waved in front of his face now. ”Yo, Stan!”

“Sorry what?” Stan said, grabbing his beer and chugging it.

Kyle raised a brow and stuck his straw in his water. “You sure you’re good?” He asked, taking a sip. Stan looked away and swallowed. He was looking at him with those green eyes and putting his mouth around his straw. Kyle wasn’t playing fair and he didn’t even know it.

“Yeah dude, just… do you really believe in all of that stuff people say about changing after high school and stuff like that? Like can people change so suddenly?” There. That was a general enough question that it didn’t give away the very specific change that seemed to be taking over Stan’s life as of late.

Kyle pursed his lips, “What is it with that question lately? Ken asked me something similar the other day.” Stan watched in silent wonder as Kyle played with his straw wrapper, folding it up and then ripping it in half and repeating. “But yeah, my answer’s the same. I think people can change. Just gotta want to.”

Want to… Stan wanted very badly.

“Speaking of…” Kyle continued, “you seem like you’ve really been doing good. With it being today and all.”

“Today?”

“Because of Valentine’s Day, you know? Honestly, dude, I thought you’d be a mess.”

“Oh! No, totally over Wendy. Well, I mean over her as in, like, her specifically. I still wanna date… other people.” Stan said, hoping his face wasn’t too red at the last part.

“Right. Well, yeah. I just wanted to make sure you were good today.”

Stan’s face fell. “Oh. Sorry you had to spend Valentine’s Day with me.”

Suddenly he felt really stupid. Kyle was spending today with him because he thought he was going to have to call in the special forces for another signature Stan mental breakdown. Which meant Kyle had only asked him out on a pity date. But it’s not a date! Stan reminded himself.

”Sorry?” Kyle frowned, “Not like I’d be spending today with anyone else.”

“Oh, so there’s no one you’d want to…?”

“‘Want to’ what?”

“I don’t know. You’re just so good with girls I thought…” The beer seemed to be having some type of effect on him, making him want to go into that unknown territory called Kyle’s Sex Life again. That or his uncontrollable need for any information Kyle and sex related.

Kyle was quiet a beat and then sighed loudly. “Stan, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you…”

sh*t. This was it. Kyle was going to admit to being into Marlo. Oh god, why did Stan have to ruin this moment with that?! They should’ve just stayed home and played video games.

The waitress waddled over before Kyle got a chance to finish his sentence, ”Alright, sweethearts, one check?”

Stan stilled, eyes wide and stomach jolting at her question. “No! Separate. Definitely Separate. We’re friends.” He blurted, like if he declared it out loud it would be true.

Then as she left he threw his napkin over his empty plate and went for his beer again, desperately looking around at everyone else there. They should have known it was going to only be couples there today. Why did they pick this place?

He couldn’t meet Kyle’s eyes. He felt like if he did he’d be able to see right through him.

Neither of them spoke for a long moment, one long torturous moment, until Kyle finally sighed, “Dude, do you wanna get out of here?”

”What?” Stan finally looked up to him, to those green eyes that he knew sparkled in the sunlight and always looked at him with so much concern. Stan knew he was acting like a freak, but he wasn’t sure the alternative would be any better.

”Yeah, it’s kinda just a bunch of couples. We can go back to my place. I got the new FIFA for Christmas.”

“Oh. Okay, yeah.” Stan said lamely, feeling like an awful friend for not already knowing that.

When they arrived back at Kyle’s, Ike was sprawled out on the couch, tv remote in hand. “Ugh,” Kyle stopped in front of the tv, “Shouldn’t you be hanging out with one of your girlfriends or something?

“Nah, gotta keep ‘em all on their toes.” Ike replied, popping a heart-shaped chocolate into his mouth and throwing the balled up foil wrapper at Kyle. There was a matching heart-shaped candy box sitting out on the coffee table that Stan assumed Sheila had gotten him for Valentine’s Day. She was that type of mom. “Move, dude. Kardashians is on.”

Ike was weirdly obsessed with reality tv, but insisted the reason he watched was because he had a thing for Kylie Jenner, right before he always noted he could “take that skinny f*ck from Dune”. That doesn’t explain your love for The Real Housewives, Kyle always replied, inserting a different tv show each time. Stan always chose to keep his preference for the Yacht show to himself.

Kyle groaned, “Dude, Ike, we just wanna play the Xbox.”

“Well, too bad. I was here first. Just go to your room and jerk each other off or whatever you guys do in there all day.” Ike said, settling back into the couch.

Kyle scowled at his brother but they all knew he wasn’t winning this game so he grabbed the Xbox and they resigned to playing in his room.

Luckily Kyle was already ahead of Stan so he couldn’t see his face heat at Ike’s joke. Ike made stupid jokes like that all the time, but after all of Stan’s weird sexual confusion this was the first time he was picturing what Ike was suggesting. An afternoon full of video games turning into the two friends hurriedly stroking each other, panting and desperate for release.

Jesus, what the f*ck is wrong with me? He thought, squeezing his eyes shut and swallowing. He shouldn’t be thinking about jerking off his best friend or admiring the way the grey fabric hung on his back or looking at his—

“Just give me a minute to set up.” Kyle knelt in front of the TV and started plugging cords in while Stan sat back on Kyle’s bed, getting as far as physically possible away so he wouldn’t be tempted to run a hand down his back or through his hair. He knew how those curls felt, but he was dying now to feel them brushing the side of his face or his stomach.

Kyle finished setting up with the TV and Stan tried to focus on anything other than how he felt about jerking off his best friend. He needed to mentally set those images on fire, no matter how much he wanted to ingrain them into his brain.

When he felt like he was about to drive himself insane he leaned back against the wall and folded his hands together. There. Now they couldn’t possibly grow a mind of their own and start feeling Kyle up in the middle of a match.

“Here,” Kyle handed Stan the second controller and settled in next to him on the bed, leaning back like Stan was as the main menu came up.

He quickly chose his team and went through the motions, but he was still very much distracted, for completely different reasons now. When they were sitting at the table Stan hadn’t gotten a chance to stare at Kyle’s crotch up close and personal.

Stan had never understood Wendy’s obsession with his grey sweatpants. She was always going on about how she loved them and he smiled along, just accepting that it was some girly thing that he’d never understand, but sitting next to Kyle in his Nike sweats, he finally understood, with a blush across his face. He could practically see every detailed outline of Kyle’s dick under the soft grey fabric, and he was trying really hard to act normal, like he wasn’t affected by this knowledge. But he knew it was there, he could see it, and Ike’s words go to your room and jerk each other off were echoing in his head.

And it didn’t help that Kyle was leaning back low against the wall, legs spread wide as he held his controller casually over his pelvis. The movement of his fingers on the buttons in Stan’s peripheral vision did not help erase the images swirling around in his head.

And f*ck, Stan was affected, just as he had been after Chef’s and the alumni game, and when he woke up from those dreams, boxers tented and ready to let him finish them out.

He couldn’t stop it, couldn’t make it go away, even as he tried to think about other things. He wasn’t in control of himself. Can you go through puberty later in life?

“Dude, earth to Stan! What’s up with you today?” Kyle waved his controller in Stan’s face as he sat dazed, practically boring a hole into the tv with his eyes.

“Um, I don’t know. I just haven’t been feeling well.” he said lamely. He couldn’t look over at Kyle, not now that his hands weren’t covering his dickprint anymore.

“Oh, okay, well do you wanna go home?”

That was the thing, Stan didn’t want to go home. There was a war going on inside of him, half of him wanting to get as far away from Kyle as possible and the other half wanting to climb on top of him. “I—“ The war was getting worse, like there really were two opposing sides fighting inside his stomach. f*ck. He was going to—

Stan ran for the bathroom and slammed the door shut just as he vomited into the toilet, dropping to his knees and throwing his hands over the bowl. His eyes watered as he expelled his entire lunch.

Moaning, he rested his head on his arm draped over the bowl. Was he just cursed to be like his dad? Completely and utterly weak to his perverted fantasies? He’d probably just have to avoid Kyle until he was over it— maybe even forever. Make up some excuse about a horrible wrong he’d done to him. Find a whole new group of friends or something.

A knock sounded at the bathroom door as Stan silently spiraled.

“Stan, dude. Are you okay?”

”Um, yeah, I’m fine.”

There was a long silence and then, “Is it about today?”

“What?” sh*t. Kyle knew. He totally knew.

“Valentine’s Day… Wendy…”

Stan felt a delirious laugh bubble up. Kyle thought he was upset about Wendy?

“Uh, yeah.” He nodded quickly. “That’s definitely it. My head just hurts. Maybe I should leave.”

“Okay… I’ll drive you home.” Kyle answered.

Stan squeezed his eyes shut the whole way home, counting down the seconds until he could relax again. He said a quick goodbye and a thanks to Kyle before practically jumping out of the car. For once he was thankful for his condition because it was a good enough excuse for acting like a freak.

Heading straight to his room, Stan flopped down face first onto the bed.

This was even worse than he thought. He was going to have to stop hanging out with Kyle altogether until he got himself under control. But when would that be? What if Stan could never be around Kyle again without popping a boner or melting at the way he smiled at him or fixating on his hands?

After several minutes of letting his imagination run wild, Stan finally rolled over and fished the candy Kyle had given him earlier out, popping a chocolate into his mouth.

Somehow the chocolate seemed to be bringing him back down to earth.

He’d been so worried about not being able to be around Kyle ever again, but…what if it wasn’t that complicated?

“Just gotta find a way to rub one out.”

Maybe Kenny was right, and he just needed to get it all out of his system, just this one time.

He could get past this. He was just going to have to take drastic measures.

Stan hurriedly checked to make sure his bedroom door was locked but his Mom’s car hadn’t been in the driveway when he’d gotten home so he didn’t have anything to worry about. No excuse not to do what he was about to do, what he’d avoided doing since that night after the Alumni game.

He had a bottle of lotion in the bottom drawer of his nightstand, a thin layer of dried crust on the nozzle. Swallowing,— and before he could stop himself— he pumped some lotion into his hand and pulled out his phone.

Stan hated p*rn.

If he was being honest, even before all of the Randy stuff he hadn’t really cared for it. Even when they were kids, shushing each other as they put in Randy’s DVDs they’d swiped while he was out on a bender, or flipping through the pages of Kenny’s dad’s playboys.

He figured it was something that he’d acquire a taste for as he was older. And then he got older and Randy got an addiction and by that point it didn’t matter; any time Stan pulled anything up he was just thinking about his dad, getting off to all of the weird sh*t Sharon had found on the family computer his freshman year.

It’s not like Stan thought he’d also be into balloons or getting pissed on or being anally probed by little green aliens or walked on all fours like a dog, but even the tame stuff all felt very… fake. The positions seemed unrealistic and the moans felt overdramatic. Stan had confided in Wendy about it and she had sighed with relief, Thank God you don’t watch that stuff! she’d said. And that gave him all the more reason not to watch it. He’d survive on the occasional tastefully scandalous picture Wendy sent him in her underwear, because obviously she couldn’t send him a real nude if she wanted to run for office some day!

But he ignored the churning in his stomach as he pulled up p*rnhub, noting that it had been so long since he’d looked at it that he didn’t know how to get where he needed to go.

After clicking several buttons that took him down a few rabbit holes that he passed through in horror, he finally found his way to his destination; the GAY category. His hand traveled down to his waistband in anticipation before he clicked the link and held his breath.

He hadn’t actually expected the main page of the gay p*rn section to all of a sudden enlighten him on some deep, dark secret he hadn’t known about himself before, but the most surprising and confusing thing was that it was… a lot like straight p*rn? Overdramatic and unrealistic— at least in Stan’s opinion. Maybe a little more on the grunting side. Why was everything so quick and dirty? And how did some of those guys fit all of that into—?!

Stan threw his phone aside and looked down to his crotch in frustration. It was like his dick knew he was supposed to be turned on, but it wasn’t in the way that he craved. Which was the way Stan had felt sitting next to Kyle earlier that day, imagining Kyle turning to him and meeting his lips again.

f*ck. Stan squeezed his eyes shut, like if he shut them tight enough he wouldn’t be doing what he was doing now, biting into his bottom lip as he let his mind go where he’d been trying to keep it from for the past month, at least not while his hand was slicking lotion over his semi-hard dick.

In that dark corner of his mind they were back in Kyle’s room, leaning against his wall as they started up another game.

“Do you wanna do something more fun?” Kyle would ask, mischievous grin on his face.

“Like what?”

Kyle would lean over and Stan would be nervous but the good kind, the kind that would have him meeting him halfway and pressing his lips to his.

Kyle wouldn’t be aggressive and cold like those guys in the video. He’d be gentle, talk Stan through it, tell him how good he was doing… And when Stan was unsure how to proceed, Kyle would smirk at him and tease him for being nervous and grab his face again.

Stan grasped himself tighter and stroked faster, pushing down the voice in his head telling him he was an awful, horrible person. This was an emergency. He was doing this for Kyle, for their friendship. That’s why it was so easy for him to get hard thinking about him, why it felt so good to be touching himself while imagining his face buried in red curls.

The p*rn had at least helped Stan with filling in the blanks of how and where and he let his imagination do the rest.

His imagination had him naked and sweaty in between the sheets with Kyle on top of him, helping him with the treatment on his slicked over dick and whispering in his ear about how what they were doing was totally fine– great even– and that he wanted Stan just as much as Stan wanted him. And Stan would return the favor by grasping him too and whispering all of the dirty things he was thinking now and had been thinking about since they shared the kiss on New Year’s.

If Stan wasn’t so unsure about what he was doing in the first place he might have let his mind go into the R-Rated territory, the furthest they could go. But apparently he didn’t need to. Being so pent up had Stan nearly over the edge just imagining them dry-humping as they stroked each other while sharing slow kisses. But he was human, after all, so the slow kisses turned to Kyle kissing his neck and then down his chest and disappearing under the covers as Stan bit into his bottom lip and squeezed himself tighter—

Oh, fu—afchnkrxvjjdssdjk!

Just as he came, full force into his hand, his phone screen glowed next to him and Kyle’s name popped up as it vibrated on the bed.

Stan eyed the mess he’d made in horror as his phone continued to buzz. He should just ignore it right? It’s not like if he didn’t answer Kyle would know what he was doing, what he had just done all over himself.

But the anxious thoughts of Kyle somehow knowing took over and Stan snatched his phone up, attempting to clean his fingers on his shirt before answering.

“Um, hi!” he said, grateful Kyle couldn’t see how red he was right now.

“Hi. Can we talk?”

“Sure. About what?” Stan asked, voice squeaking.

“How are you feeling?”

Much better now that I just got off to you. Stan was going to hell. He’d have a First class seat right between Randy and Jeffrey Dahmer. “Um, better, now. Think I just needed to lay down.”

“Stan…”

Oh god, Kyle knew, He had to. It was in his voice. He was going to f*cking call Stan out on it and then he would have to admit everything. “You’ve been acting really weird lately. Is it because of New Year’s Eve? When I kissed you?”

“I…” What did he even say? That he hadn’t stopped thinking about it since New Year’s Eve? That he was pretty sure— no positive— that he wanted to do that again, with Kyle?

But Kyle continued, rambling, “Look, I’m sorry about that. I didn’t mean to, like, freak you out or anything. I didn’t think it would be a big deal and it just felt like the only non-aggressive thing I could do to shut you up. It was stupid, I know. It definitely didn’t mean anything to me so I hope you don’t feel weird around me or anything.”

It all came out in a rush so quickly Stan had to take a beat to process.

“What?” He would have laughed if he wasn’t so relieved. Kyle thought Stan was being weird because he thought Stan thought the kiss meant something more to Kyle, not the other way around.

“Yeah, I just… you’ve been weird since then so I figured it was that. But I swear, it meant nothing and we don’t have to do that ever again.”

“Kyle, I…”

It meant nothing. Stan got that message loud and clear. It wouldn’t have been worth it to even admit to what he was really feeling. He had just been provided a really easy way out that didn’t make him look like a perv… Maybe it made him a coward but he was just happy Kyle didn’t think he was a creep. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it. With everything with Wendy and then that I didn’t want you to think I thought anything meant more either. I think maybe I was just overthinking things.”

“Yeah, well, wouldn’t be the first time.” Kyle chuckled, relief in his voice.

“Ha, yeah,” Stan sighed a matching sigh of relief. Crisis averted! Stan had managed to jerk off and the world didn’t end! And he was talking on the phone now totally normally to Kyle. He could compartmentalize. Totally. Everything Stan had been thinking a mere sixty seconds ago was now locked away, in solitary confinement where even Stan couldn’t access. He was totally fine.

“Ugh, did you see the groupchat?” Kyle asked, bringing Stan back to their conversation.

“What? No, let me go look.”

“Yeah. Cartman just had to copy us. It’s not Cancun or anything but the guys are all going and we’re getting a house together… You should come.”

Stan pulled up their messages and tried to scan everything quickly.

South Park Dicks

Cartman: you guys should come up for spring break. Have dads house to myself. Gonna be sick!

Kyle: pass. Doing stuff with the brothers.

Cartman: what a study group?

Kyle: nah, South Padre

Clyde: oh sh*t heard that place was crazy

Cartman: my dad can get us an Airbnb let’s goooo

Clyde: sh*t really? I’m in. Can Bebe come?

Cartman: yeah invite f*cking everyone

Clyde: sweet

Cartman: Kenny Stan u in?

“You’re going too?” Stan asked Kyle, mood deflating. He’d just gotten his friend back and now he was spending a whole week away in March.

“Yeah. Staying with the guys though. But we’ll be able to hang on the beach and stuff. They kinda dragged me into it but I’m warming up to the idea.”

A whole week on the beach where everyone else would be getting drunk and getting laid while Stan stood in the corner trying to be interested in any of the strangers there and not his best friend? It sounded miserable. But the alternative was sitting at home while he imagined all of the hot girls that would be throwing themselves at the guys. At Kyle, surely. That might actually cause him to lose his mind.

Stan ignored all of the alarm bells going off in his head as he typed out his response.

Stan: count me in.

Marj

“Happy Valentine’s Day!” Marj sing-songed as she walked into work that morning.

Valentine’s Day was her third favorite holiday and as such she was dressed appropriately festive– red headband with little hearts at the end of long springs that wiggled when she moved, sparkly pink eyeshadow and a special heart-patterned apron that Mikey had eventually given in and allowed her to wear just for today.

Nevermind that she normally would have never worked on Valentine’s Day before. Today was about spreading the love to all of the shoppers at the mall.

She was pleasantly surprised that Build-A-Bear was pretty busy that day. It was mostly single parents with their kids and the occasional teen couple buying bears for eachother but it was enough to keep her busy and not thinking about what she would have normally been doing on that particular day of the year. Not at all!!

But being busy definitely helped. And she was back into classes and had a good routine with balancing work and school and her various projects so she didn’t have time for any moping or agonizing over best friends dropping her at the drop of a hat or a heart or whatever. Marj was great because today was Valentine’s Day!

Jack: Happy Valentine’s Day gorgeous :)

She couldn’t keep the smile from her face as she read Jack’s text over again, cheerfully replying. Jack was kind and thoughtful, Jack wanted to be around her, Jack would never, ever abandon her at the drop of a hat. Or a heart. Or whatever.

A month and a half. Six whole weeks and she hadn’t heard a single word from Kenny. He’d somehow gotten all of the shifts at work that weren’t when she was working, and when she asked Mikey about it he just shrugged and said that’s how the schedule had worked out but Marjorine knew better. Kenny was avoiding her. And that was fine! Kenny was his own person and he could hangout with or not hangout with whoever he wanted. Marjorine wasn’t going to sit around waiting for him to decide they were friends again. She had gotten his message loud and clear: There was nothing between them, not even friendship now.

But Jack was very much around, and very much wanted to talk to her and text her and ask about her day and how work was going and facetimed her so really, she didn’t need Kenny McCormick. He was just an asshole who’d dumped her without so much as an explanation. And assholes didn’t deserve to take up any space in her mind.

Stan was off that day so Marj had eaten lunch alone and then headed back for the second half of her shift. She had selflessly taken Livvy’s afternoon shift since she had plans with her boyfriend.

It was surprisingly easy talking to Stan after all of these years. When she’d transitioned she knew some of the guys would become distant, that was just the way it was, but there was always a small part of her that had wondered if Stan had drifted not simply because she was now a girl and he felt they were now somehow from different planets, but because he and Wendy were dating and the rules had changed.

Dang, she should have asked if he had plans tonight. Maybe they could’ve wallowed in mutual loneliness. But she guessed Stan was probably somewhere with Kyle and the other boys, thankful he didn’t have to spend an arm and a leg on a flower display or an expensive steakhouse tonight. Would Kenny be grateful he wasn’t having to spend the whole night baking cupcakes or doing crafts or watching netflix like they had done in years past?

No! Marj wasn’t thinking about him! Kenny was off-limits. She had mentally thrown him in the pool and deleted all of the ladders. Marjorine was just going to have to make some new traditions with people who cared about her.

After a whole day at work, Marj was actually grateful she didn’t have any plans that night. She was beat and a bath and a glass of wine sounded heavenly right now.

The end of shift had been so busy she hadn’t had time to check her phone again until she was walking to her car in the garage.

Marj’s face fell as she checked her phone. Three missed calls from her mom.

Linda Stotch knew how Marjorine felt about Valentine’s Day— it was one of her favorites too. Before… everything, Marj and her mom would spend all day baking heart shaped cookies and portioning out her valentines candy to hand out in class, her mom happily helping her choose which of her favorite classmates got the best and worst cards and candy.

Her finger hovered over the call back button, but she stopped herself. If her mother wanted to talk to her she could march her ass over to her apartment and knock on the door. Marj was done giving chances to people who didn’t deserve it.

Bebe came out from her room as Marj kicked her shoes off by the front door of their apartment, sporting a tight red dress and heels that belonged on the stage at the Hippo. “Hey, happy V-Day!” she said, “I’m headed out for dinner with Clyde. We’ll be back later.”

“I’ll be sure to be wearing my headphones.” Marj muttered, headband still bouncing around at her movements. She knew how those two were on Valentine’s Day. She had nowhere else to go, though, so maybe she’d catch up on Bridgerton tonight while eating her Valentine’s Day gift from Bebe.

“Ha-ha! I promise we’ll try to be quiet. No plans?” Bebe’s eyes said she knew her mistake but it was too late. Marj knew who she was referring to.

“Nope. None. Just gonna catch up on my shows and maybe work on my Eras outfit.”

“Sorry. Kenny’s a dick. Wanna go egg his house tomorrow night?” Bebe asked, lining her lips with gloss. Marjorine knew her enough to know she was being dead serious.

“No. That would just make me feel worse.” Not that the McCormick house hadn’t been hit before— Kenny had built up his own handful of enemies— but she wasn’t sure Karen wouldn’t be the one who ended up cleaning up the mess, and she didn’t deserve that.

Bebe nodded, “Well, I’m sure he’ll come around, then.”

“That’s what everyone keeps saying,” Marj sighed, hanging up her apron.

“You know him. The man never changes.” Bebe shrugged, “But in better news, someone brought you a delivery earlier.”

“A delivery?”

Bebe smirked, “Yep. It's in the kitchen. Maybe a little something special from Jack?” she suggested coyly, before throwing on her coat and heading out the door, phone buzzing in her hand. “Hey, relax, babe. I’m coming!” she said before swinging the front door shut.

Marjorine was too curious about her delivery to worry too much about Bebe or Kenny or anyone else.

When she entered the kitchen she saw there was a tall vase full of flowers on the island– all different shades of pink.

Had Jack really sent flowers?! Oh, that was much better than moping about being alone!

After pouring herself a much needed glass of wine she grabbed the little card sticking out of the bouquet, giddy with excitement. Wow! This was exciting! She didn’t have a Valentine in person but maybe they could facetime later so she could thank him for the beautiful—

Marj set her glass down, blinked away her confusion at the message written on the card.

She scanned the card again and again, but it always said the same words, written in that stupid chicken scratch she knew all too well.

Happy Valentine’s Day, Baby girl

What the hell?! What the Hell?!

It wasn’t– It couldn’t– Did he really think he could just ignore her for practically two months and then be all baby girl to her? No f*cking way!

Marjorine had agonized for weeks and sent herself in circles wondering what she did wrong. He was not going to just brush all of it under the rug, not this time.

And he couldn’t even show his face! He had to resort to sending flowers.

Well, flowers die. And so had any sympathy Marj had for him.

Marj chugged her wine and grabbed her keys before she could rethink her decision or talk herself down. Kenny McCormick was not getting away with this. He had gotten too many second chances and forgiveness for all of his stupid moods. Her mom wasn’t getting any. He wasn’t getting any. No one was.

Snatching her keys up from the kitchen counter and throwing on her puffer, Marjorine decided she was going to make sure Kenny McCormick knew just how much he wasn’t forgiven.

McCall’s was just as gross and smokey as she remembered it. She hadn’t been in years but nothing had changed. Wrinkly old regulars in flannels sat at the wooden bar making small talk with the bartenders or each other— people older than the building itself. Cigarette smoke hung in the air as people milled around the pool tables, cues in hand.

His location had said he was here.

And sure enough, there he stood, swaying as he took a swig from his beer and held onto his pool stick for dear life. It was clear from his mannerisms that he was drunk; Marj could always tell.

“Kenneth Allen McCormick!” She screamed, stepping around the other patrons in her path, “f*ck. YOU!”

Several of the people around her stepped back, wary of the crazy girl in a sparkly pink puffer and a springy heart headband— she’d realized only now she’d forgotten to take it off.

Because of all the booze it took Kenny a minute to focus his eyes and realize what was going on, but his bloodshot eyes widened as he took her in. It didn’t last long, before he plastered on that care-free grin of his, “Oh, hey, baby girl.” he slurred, poolstick going wide and nearly knocking Hank Rodson’s eye out.

“Don’t you ‘baby girl’ me! What the hell is wrong with you?” she asked, incredulous.

“Whatddya mean?”

“The flowers!” she yelled a little quieter, blushing now that she realized people were watching them. She knew the guys playing with Kenny, some older guys they’d gone to high school with, but everyone else was a stranger.

Oh, no. Kenny was spending Valentine’s Day alone, too. At f*cking McCall’s of all places.

Marjorine had just assumed he’d be with Tammy somewhere, licking chocolate off of her tit* or at least getting dinner before going back to her house.

“Oh, yeah. You like ‘em?” Kenny waggled his eyebrows, attempting to lean against the pool table. But he was off-balance and instead awkwardly fell against the side of it. How much did he drink today? It was only 8 p.m.

“No! You can’t—” she was yelling now, and even the people sitting at the bar turned to watch the spectacle. “Ugh!” Marj grabbed Kenny by his coat and yanked him after her, stomping to the front as he struggled to keep up behind her. She’d drag him out if she had to.

The cold hit her like a slap to the face but she ignored it and shoved him on the side of the building, pointing a finger at his chest. It was meant to be intimidating but since his chest was just about at her eyeline she wasn’t sure it had the desired effect. “Kenny, you are not allowed to avoid me for almost two months and then just send flowers like you don’t work at the same place as me.”

“’s not like that.” Kenny crossed his arms and leaned back against the brick. He was avoiding her gaze, eyes focused on something to their side.

“Oh? Then what is it like? You’ve taken different shifts, you’ve ignored my texts. Is it… is it because of your brother?”

“Nah, that aint’ it.” Kenny shook his head wildly. He had been fine up until then, jolly even. It was hard to believe all of this ignoring Marj was because of his brother. She had thought maybe he had just needed time to process his grief. But really that should’ve had f*ckall to do with her.

“Then… Christmas? Did I… do something wrong?” She had theorized that enough, and she could handle it; Kenny wanting to put some distance between them.

“‘Course not… it’s just…” Kenny stared into her eyes, searching for something she didn’t know she was supposed to be conveying. “I missed you.” he said quietly.

“What?!” Marj asked, totally confused. In her imagination Kenny was running around totally fine laughing at Marj for thinking they were ever really friends.

“I just… I missed you.” Those blue eyes looked sincere. This was the real Kenny, facade blown away. He didn’t look indifferent, he just looked sad and scared. And he was wearing the jacket she’d gotten him for Christmas, so he couldn’t have hated her.

“Then why all the weirdness?” she asked finally.

“You wouldn’t get it.” he sniffled, looking away again.

“Try me.” she said.

Kenny’s lip quivered and his eyes were glassy, and for a second Marjorine was back in elementary school, when Kevin died. The one and only time she had seen Kenny cry, as his brother was lowered into the ground. Kenny never talked about it, so Marj never brought it up, but watching him look away and try real hard not to cry, it was like she could still smell the dirt as they shoveled it onto his coffin.

Marj gaped. Kenny was on the verge of crying. “Are—are you okay?”

She couldn’t help but soften. Kenny didn’t cry. She had never seen him like this. Something had happened, had changed fundamentally the way Kenny was. She didn’t know what it was, and it was apparent he would probably never tell her.

“Don’t know.” Ken answered, wiping his nose.

“What happened, Ken. You can tell me.” Marj looked around. A couple of drunk patrons stumbled out of McCall’s and another group stood out on the sidewalk on the other side of the door. Kenny wouldn’t open up to her in front of all these eyes. “Let’s go back to my car. You can tell me all about it.”

Kenny nodded, whole head bobbing with his movements before he followed after her. When it was clear he couldn’t navigate walking by himself, Marj ducked under his right arm and let him lean on her the rest of the way. It was what a friend would do.

Marj listened intently as Kenny relayed everything that had happened since Christmas Eve in the passenger’s seat, mentally trying not to freak out too much.

Apparently that guy that had come into Build-A-Bear on Christmas Eve was one of the moms’ husbands, and he had found out that his wife had cheated with Kenny, so he came after him to get revenge. Kenny had given him the slip on Christmas Eve, but Mr. Woodrow had been stalking and harassing him since then, threatening his loved ones and taunting him.

“Why didn’t you say something, Ken? Go to the police?” Marj asked, wiping her eyes. It was clear Kenny had been hurting and scared. She wanted to be angry, but she just felt bad. Kenny was trying to keep her safe, even if the way he went about it was wrong.

“I was scared, babygirl. I didn’t want you to get hurt. I’ve been going crazy the last month worrying about getting my friends hurt. I thought this was the best option until I figured out what to do. But I think I’m safe now. He’s done bothering me.”

“Why?” Dread pooled in her stomach. Kenny wasn’t above acting on brash decisions.

Ken shrugged, saying, “Just... knocked some sense into him is all.”

“Kenny! What did you do?”

“I—” he sniffed, “I pulled a gun on him.”

“You what?!”

“Yeah. Went all Rambo and sh*t. Dude just won’t f*ckin’ leave me alone.”

“Where’d you even— Kenny, you could’ve gotten in serious trouble! You… you could have hurt someone!”

“Already been hurt a lot.” He made an attempt at a smile but it was feeble.

“I know you’ve had it rough but you can’t let them win. This guy’s not playing fair but you don’t have to stoop to his level. Have you tried going to the cops?” They had to believe him. The police chief had already asked him about the incident on Christmas Eve. They already had a record of Mr. Woodrow antagonizing him.

“They wouldn’t do nothin’. You know that.”

“Oh, gosh, I don’t know... If this guy is as crazy as you say and Danielle knows it too then maybe they’ll believe you.”

Kenny pursed his lips, “Yeah, maybe.”

“Promise me, Ken. You’ll try?”

Kenny looked up to her, blue eyes shiny, “I’ll try,” he said quietly.

Marj nodded. It was all she could do to keep him calm. If she pushed him too hard he’d pull away again, and she wasn’t going to let that happen.

“You’re not still mad at me?” he asked.

“No. I get it. But things have got to change, Ken. You can’t keep shutting me out.”

“Yeah, I know. Sorry. I’m gonna change. Promise.”

Marj nodded her acceptance and then headed for Kenny’s street. Maybe this was what they had needed. They never talked like this anymore.

Kenny leaned against the window and wiped his nose. “Can I… Can I stay with you tonight?” he asked in a mumble. He’d seemed to sober up a little but she understood that he might be scared to go home now. She wouldn’t abandon him after he’d just really, actually confided in him.

“Of course. You’re always welcome at my place.”

“Thanks.” Ken lamely smiled over at her, “You got that Hello Kitty game?”

Marjorine nodded, pulled out onto the main road. “Yeah. You’re gonna love it.”

END CREDITS SCENE

Kenny

“Cause I’m not going.” Kenny said, exhaling smoke as he ashed his cig onto the police station parking lot.

“Awww c’mon Ken. It’s free.” Stan whined from the other line. Stan had called him begging him to come on their Spring Break trip, which confirmed his suspicions; Stan and Kyle, for whatever reason, were on the outs. Not my problem, Kenny reminded himself. He had bigger fish to fry.

He’d promised Marj he would try to do things the right way. He was finally going to the Feds.

“Ain’t about that. Can’t fly.” he replied. An officer flipped his lights on and peeled out of the lot in pursuit of whatever bullsh*t was probably happening across town. Or maybe he was just late for a dinner date.

Stan continued, “Are you scared? We can get seats right next to you dude.”

“People weren’t meant to fly. All good, man. You guys enjoy your trip.” Ken couldn’t tell them the real reason; that he didn’t want to put him dying to chance. If he died on a plane there were only three outcomes: his friends would have to sit next to his dead corpse for the rest of the flight, the pilot would try to land, resulting in him f*cking up everyone else’s trips, or the worst one, whatever killed Ken killed everyone else on the plane. And then Kenny would wake up the next morning in his bed while everyone else stayed dead. It just wasn’t worth the risk.

And he really did think the idea was f*cking terrifying.

He surveyed his surroundings once more and then put out his cigarette. Kenny wasn’t scared, but he hadn’t “ran into” Bill all day, so either he’d gotten his message across, Danielle had somehow taken him back or he was about to show up on the front lawn of the station with an AR-15.

But he’d promised Marj he would try going to the cops so here he was gonna at least try. Bill wouldn’t be stupid enough to come after him in the pig pen.

“Why’re you so antsy about me coming anyway?” Ken asked Stan, changing the subject.

“Huh?”

“Yeah, something up between you and Broflovski?”

“No! No. I just… Fitz and all the fraternity brothers are gonna be there and I don't want to be the odd man out if Clyde’s dickriding Bebe the whole time and Cartman’s pulling his same old sh*t.”

Kenny chuckled, “I’m sure you’ll be fine, Stannyboy.”

“We could drive!” Stan suggested quickly, “yeah. It’s only 18 hours, right? Could be a fun road trip! C’mon. A whole week away from South Park and all of its bullsh*t.”

Kenny stopped, a whole week away… The thought was plenty tempting. A whole week away from Bill would be f*cking nice, but how did he know Bill wouldn’t hop on a plane and blast his brains out on the beach in front of all of his friends.

“Yeah, sorry, man. I’m out.”

Stan whined some more but Ken hung up quickly because someone was coming up the walk and giving him dirty looks. He figured he’d better get inside before people saw him hangin’ around and assumed he was trying to set the building on fire again.

“…Trying to kill you?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“And why do you think that?”

“I, uh… f*cked his wife. ‘Couple times.”

Ken had wanted to talk with Yates, but according to the cranky old receptionist he was preoccupied so they sat him down with one of the fresh piglets at a desk in the big middle room.

A familiar face; Chris Dailey. Ken knew who he was because he had been the big hotshot at South Park High when they were in middle school. And then after he graduated his picture was plastered on every newspaper and facebook post because he was set to go off to LSU for football the next year. Supposed to be the next Tom Brady but his sophom*ore year he f*cked up his shoulder. From what Ken knew he never recovered so his career was cut short. Apparently he’d moved back to South Park and joined the force.

By the way he looked at him, he trusted Kenny just as much as Kenny trusted him.

And now he was giving Kenny one of those looks that said he thought Ken was the scum of the earth and not worth his time. This was a sh*t idea.

Dailey snorted, “Can you blame the man?”

Yep, definitely a sh*t idea.

Before Ken could hightail it out of there Yates came strolling by, coffee mug and newspaper in hand, “Dailey, you giving McCormick a hard time?”

“Just doin’ my job, Chief.” Dailey said, sitting up a little straighter.

“Mhmm. I’ll take it from here.” He shooed Dailey off and motioned for Kenny to follow him to his office in the back. Kenny could’ve walked that path blindfolded for how many times he’d been in there.

“Sorry about the new guy. Real eager to save the world, that one.” Apparently not, Ken thought.

Yates sat in his big leather chair— an upgrade since the last time Kenny had been in there— and shook his head before asking, “What brings you to me, McCormick?”

“Uh, that Bill guy. He’s been stalking me. Think he wants to do somethin’ bad.”

“Bad?”

“Yeah. Like when he came to the mall.”

“Oh, yeah. Threatened you, right?” Yates leaned forward and played with his mustache— the tell-tale sign he was thinking hard. At least he was attempting to listen to Kenny. f*ck that washed-up jock piglet.

“Um, yeah. I just— I’m worried about my sister, ya know?” Maybe they wouldn’t give a sh*t about Kenny, but Karen was good. She was doing good in school and she had a good head on her shoulders. And she was a girl.

“Ah, yeah. Well, the man in question was just in here yesterday. Told us you’d pulled a gun on him.”

“Only did that ‘cause he did.”

“He did? When?”

“At the mall on Christmas Eve.”

“Hm. We went over the footage at the mall and far as we saw you bolted out and Bill went home.”

“Well that’s not really—” Ken stopped. There wasn’t going to be any kind of record from Christmas Eve. It was part of stupid f*cked up rules.

“Save it.” Yates sighed. “If it happened in the parking garage we got you on tape doing it.”

sh*t. Woodrow changed up his weapons and his words but the one thing he never changed after the first time was that he always did it while Kenny was alone. No witnesses, no police involvement. If he succeeded in killing Kenny every time that meant there probably wouldn’t be much concrete evidence that he was even doing anything wrong. All they’d see on the tapes from the parking garage is Kenny aiming first. That sick f*ck was right, he could just say Kenny was robbing him.

And dumb little Kenny had come waltzing right in here, handing himself over on a silver platter.

He went on before Kenny could decide on a hasty exit plan. “You want me to take you both in, I will. Or we can call this even. Man looked pretty shaken up when he came in. Think he’s all bark and no bite. The way I see it, you’re even. Can’t press charges on one of you without doing the same to the other. And if this becomes a legal battle I don’t think you come out on top. Best we could get him for in December was harassment.”

Kenny didn’t know what to say, so he didn’t. Yates took this as a sign to continue. He was big on the speeches.

“Look, you’ve mostly stayed out of trouble since school. Got your little job and some good company you keep. Seems to be doing something for ya and I don’t want to be the one to ruin that. Stay out of trouble and you’ve got me on your side. I can send a car out to your place for tonight, but no more guns and no more funny business.”

Well, it was a lot better than them laughing in his face or taking him away in handcuffs. “Okay– I mean, yeah. Yes, sir.”

“Alright, now get on outta here.”

Ken saluted him and left his office. He probably wasn’t in the clear, but it went a whole lot better than expected.

“I did it.” he said to Marj over the phone as he walked across the grass separating the police station from the bank.

“Really? What did they say?” It was great to hear her voice again. He’d missed it, missed her. She was right, he’d gone about this all wrong. At least now he’d complained about it and it was on Yates’ radar. He just had to be aware of his surroundings and try to catch Bill in the act if he came back around. But maybe Bill going to the police too meant he really was done— he was also trying less aggressive ways to stop Kenny, and he didn’t believe that Kenny wouldn’t come after him.

Well, he could rest easily. Kenny was done with all of this bullsh*t.

“Said he’d watch out but since I pulled the gun it could cause issues for me.”

“Well, that’s better than nothing!”

“Yeah they’re gonna send a car out. At least Karen will be safe.” Ken said, lighting another cig when he got off Station property. There, now no one could harass him.

Marj scooped him up a while later and because he knew she loved it they stopped at Willy’s for a cone before she dropped him at his place.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked again, worry all over her face.

“Yeah.” Kenny replied. “Don’t you worry about me.”

“We’re changing our ways, remember?”

Kenny looked back to her before hopping out of the car, “Yeah. I remember. See ya, Marj.”

“Bye, Ken.”

Ken eyed the police issued vehicle sitting at the end of his street before heading for the front door. At least Yates was good for his word.

Good thing he hadn’t quit work yesterday. Now he could continue putting food on the table and take shifts with Marj. She could pick him up and they could carpool and laugh at inside jokes and be friends again. Kenny needed Marj in his life. Without her he had gone to a dark place. Hell, he had thought about killing someone.

But that was all in the past. Kenny wouldn’t be like Bill. He could change.

This time would be different, he could feel it.

Skipping the bottom step, Ken hopped up onto the porch, noise from the TV in the living room heard from outside. Chances are his Ma hadn’t made dinner so maybe he and Karen could order pizza.

Ken was turning the handle as he heard a voice behind him.

“You really think you can try to snitch on me and it won’t get back to me?”

Ken froze, hand on the handle. sh*t. f*cking pigs.

Slowly, he turned around. Bill stood behind him, red-faced and gun in hand. The sweaty asshole was heaving like he’d just run two miles. The truck was nowhere to be found, so Bill had to have somehow been tipped off the cops were parked outside, parked his truck a couple streets over and walked.

“You told on me, too.” Ken pointed out, keeping his voice steady. Karen was probably right on the other side of the wall and Marj had just left. What would have happened if…

He made to step to the side but Bill co*cked his gun and forcefully shook it at Kenny. The movement was sporadic, like he couldn’t control his hands.

“Yeah, cause you almost killed me!” Bill’s speech was slurred, and he reeked with the stench of alcohol.

Jesus f*cking Christ. Dude was sloshed.

“Just self-defense, man.”

Ken again made to step away from the house, but Bill again followed his movements with the barrel of his gun.

“It doesn’t matter now. It’s all over. Everything.” Bill wailed, tears spilling over. “That whor* can f*ck every piece of trash in this town now. I don’t care. She’s damaged goods.”

Kenny paused. This was different, he was going off script. Had going to the cops set him off so much that he was willing to do this out in the open on the front lawn?

As if on cue, the officer tasked with watching the McCormick house came running towards them, gun in hand. “Freeze!”

“If I go down, I’m taking you with me.” Bill said, his final words before he pulled the trigger and shot Ken in the face.

Kenny woke up the next morning and gasped, thrust awake by the events of the day prior.

It didn’t take him any time to catch his bearings. He knew exactly where he was and what had happened. Bill had gotten him seconds before he walked into his house, where Karen was probably playing on her phone or reading one of her books in the living room, and seconds after Marj had dropped him off, and right in front of the feds. And Kenny was now in his bed, the blood pooling around him turned navy like his bed sheets just like that.

Kenny wasn’t confused. Kenny was calm, because he knew exactly what he needed to do.

Cartman answered on the first ring. “Hey man, what’s up?”

“You still got room at that house for Spring Break?”

“f*ck yeah! You in?”

Ken kissed his teeth. Bill wasn’t going to stop coming after him, and the police were no help. He couldn’t have the f*cking psycho coming to his house. It was one thing if he killed Kenny, but he wouldn’t have him putting his friends or his sister in danger anymore. “Yeah, I’m in.”

He hung up and hopped out of bed, ignoring the ghost of a headache.

He’d tried to avoid it and attempted to do the right thing. He’d tried to play nice. He’d tried to reason. He’d tried to intimidate him…

Kyle was wrong. People were people, and some just didn’t change.

But Kenny would.

Now it was anyone he ever loved, or Bill.

There was only one option left.

He was going to have to kill the motherf*cker.