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YellowHaired, BlueEyed Bunnies	By : ginger240 Category: +S through Z > South Park > Slash - Male/Male Views: 2649 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own anything from South Park and do not make any money from these writings.

Chapter List
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(A/N): The chapter titles are song titles by Modest Mouse.

I didn’t even notice it until Stan made a joke and I unexpectedly took it seriously.

We’re talking quietly in the library over the homework Stan is supposed to be helping me with, when we somehow stumble onto the topic of how everyone is still friends even after middle school.

Once high school started, we all meshed our groups into one in order to survive the first months of hell. In the end, it all worked out great for the kids in our grade. Stan and Cartman made friends with the upperclassmen by joining the football team and lacrosse team; Kyle joined the swim team with Stan, Craig, Token, and Clyde; and I ran track all year round with the girls and Butters. Even Tweek found his calling during freshmen year. Craig somehow convinced him to lay off the caffeine for a while and take up something else. In the end, Tweek found the Art Club and spent most of his time painting or sketching in his sketchpad instead of being cracked out on caffeine. By the time our first year of high school ended, we were all tightly knit with each other and a number of the upperclassmen (which improved our chances of getting invited to a kegger or two).

Stan and I are talking about how much time I sped with Butters on a daily basis. I hadn’t really thought about the time we spent with each other since all nine of us are pretty much inseparable. Hell, everyone can tolerate Cartman now, even Kyle. (Hard to believe, but at least they don’t attempt to kill each other like they used to. It’s more of Cartman crossing out every fifth word in every book of Kyle’s he could get his hands on and Kyle retaliating by skillfully taking the radio out of Cartman’s truck and then proceeding to throw it in the swimming pool.) We still have our “alone time” with our respective groups every once in a while and since Butters was never really a part of either group, he was taken in by both. We bounce Butters from group to group every weekend like divorced parents do with their children. We, however, have full custody over our “kid,” so we call the shots: who gets what, when, and where.

Oh, Butters.

“So… You and Butters have been spending a lot of time with each other lately, hmmm?” Stan was never one to blatantly tell me something.

“Well, yeah. We are friends, Stanley,” I don’t know what he’s trying to get at here, but I’m obviously not understanding him.

“Sweet, you should bang him.” I choke on my own spit.

“What?! I can’t believe you just said that,” I was caught off guard and took a joke seriously. Now, I’m blushing. Me, Kenny McCormick, blushing over a joke that I should have laughed at. Is the world coming to an end? Is hell freezing over? Are pigs flying? Someone needs to check.

Stan laughs; I see pure amusement in his clear blue eyes and can only imagine the expression on my face. “It was a joke, Ken.”

I finally beat my blush down into submission. “I know. You just caught me off guard.” Stan snickers and mutters what sounds like “for once” under his breath.

“Anyway, what are you doing after track? It’s Friday and I want to party like a rock star,” Stan asks, ignoring my glare completely.

“I’m giving Butters a ride home, but after that I’m free as a bee,” I laugh a little at my rhyme and Stan rolls his eyes.

“How nice of you,” he states with a small smirk on his face.

“You know he’s on the way to my house; everyone is. So, it’s more convenient of me, but yes.”

“Well, aren’t you just a stand up gentleman. Butters should have many babies with you,” Stan all but bursts out in laughter when I throw my pen at him.

“You can invite Butters if you’d like, Kenneth,” Stan says slyly, grinning like a loon, now.

“I would if I knew what I was inviting him to, Stanley,” I say sweetly.

“Token is throwing his ‘end of Swim Team season’ party tonight. We, of course, are all invited,” he explains just as the bell to signal the end of school rings.

I smile like a jackal and nod my head ‘yes.’ I gather my things, shove everything unceremoniously into my bag, and sling the bag over my shoulder before making my way silently to the boy’s locker room. The entire walk there, I think about how unexpectedly I reacted to Stan’s joke. By the time I reach the doors to the locker room, I’ve come to a conclusion: I secretly want to bang Butters.

(A/N): Part of that conversation actually happened between me and one of my good friends last night. I obviously tweeked it a bit to fit the situation.
Love!.
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