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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): This was completely unsatisfatory and rushed and I feel like a horrible author for making you all wait over a week and then only giving you this piece of shit. Sigh. R&R... I'm sorryyyyyy!!! The next one will be better, I promise.

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The blood coursing through my veins is tainted by alcohol and pot, flushing my skin pink.

Inhibitions are currently undergoing some maintenance, sir. If you would please take a number and remain seated until you are called, that would be great.

Before I realize what is happening, my legs are already walking me towards the bed where I tossed Butters moments ago. In fact, I’m already crawling over top of his lean, tiny form before my mind even remotely catches up with my body. One of my hands grabs onto his slim hip to pull his body flush against mine, while the other reacquaints itself with his soft, sunflower-yellow hair. One sharp tug and a soft gasp later and my tongue is thrusting into Butters’ mouth at the same time my hips grind down into Butters’. The responding mewls that slip over Butters’ tongue and into my mouth are enough to make me growl low in my throat and rip my mouth prematurely from Butters’ to allow those adorable noises to flow freely. My mouth leaves a wet trail of hot kisses along his jaw, leaves a teasing trail of butterfly kisses across his throat, before sucking and licking at his collarbone, claiming what should have been claimed months ago. His mouth is partially open, letting tiny gasps and moans to slip out uninhibited. My teeth scrape along his neck on my way back up to capture those sounds in my mouth, but I pause at the unexpected reaction it created.

It was the fleeting, barely there, lift and thrust of Butters’ hips that prompted me to tug Butters’ head to the side by my firm grip in his hair, sinking my teeth lightly into the juncture where shoulder meets neck. Butters’ gasping moan echoes in my ears as I unzip his hoodie, pull it off of one shoulder, and sincerely bite into his neck, enjoying the way his body squirms underneath of me, trying to get closer and further away at the same time. I pin his hips to the bed beneath us to keep them from moving against mine and the frustrated whine I get in response is enough to make my jaw clamp down harder on the muscle in his neck before releasing it completely.

Butters’ fingertips brush against my cheeks on their way to rake soothingly across my scalp and I abandon his neck in favor of his lips, but am startled when his other hand pushes against my chest to scoot me backwards before I have the chance to claim them. He reverses our positions and pushes me backwards until I’m resting comfortably against the headboard. He slowly crawls over my repositioned, slightly upright body and I bite my bottom lip hard when he seats himself right in my lap. He shifts his body around until he’s comfortably straddling me and my head falls back against the headboard as I release a groan at the resulting friction of his movements.

“Oh, God. Butters, please,” I moan out when I feel his hands start to hesitantly roam across my chest and stomach. He stops all movement and my eyes slowly open to stare up at him.

“Kenny?” It’s the completely innocent utterance that comes from the embodiment of innocence itself that makes me stop and really look at him.

His barrettes are long gone, leaving his hair a wild disarray and his eyelids are half-covering his glazed over baby blues. His cheeks are flushed a brilliant pink and his lips remind me of strawberries. He’s now nervously chewing on his bottom lip because of my scrutiny and my eyes continue the journey downward to take in the rest of his body. His hoodie is still hanging off of one shoulder revealing the marks I left on his skin and his tank top underneath is crumpled and twisted crookedly across his torso. There’s an obvious bulge straining against his shorts and he shifts in my lap again, this time in nervousness.

“Kenny?”

This time it’s a question and I sigh softly at the confusion I can hear in his voice. My eyes meet his and I can feel my heart starting to melt slowly. He tilts his head in the most adorable way imaginable and my lips twitch upwards into a small smile. His body relaxes considerably, but there is still tension in his shoulders and neck and the confusion is still swimming in his eyes. My conscience kicks in full force at that point and I slowly thread Butters’ fingers through mine, taking a deep, calming breath.

“Butters, just exactly how much have you had to drink?” I ask slowly, sure to keep my eyes locked on his. I can’t continue this if he’s as plastered as I know he is.

“Oh – Um… Geez, Kenny. I – I think…two o-or three shots?” he stutters. I wince slightly at what he admits, knowing that if we go any further than this we will most likely regret it in the morning. I sigh, frustrated, closing my eyes briefly before I pull Butters off my lap and tuck him into my side. I rest my head on top of his head of hair and slowly rub my hand up and down his back. His body relaxes completely against mine a few moments later and I wait until I hear his breathing even out to pull out my cell phone and scroll through my contacts. I find Kyle’s name and hit “send message” before texting:

In guest bedroom of basement. Bring me a big blanket so I don’t have to move. Love you.

I hit the send button and wait a few moments before I feel my phone vibrate, signaling a new message. I flip it open and read it:

You’re so fucking lazy. Fleece blanket or legit blanket?

I laugh softly, trying not to wake Butters, typing in my response.

Legit. Make it snappy, bitch.

A minute and a handful of seconds later, Kyle walks through the door with an armful of blanket and Stan. Stan is obviously high and intoxicated, but it’s also obvious that Kyle isn’t that far behind him. Kyle is shushing Stan and they both stumble over to the bed. Kyle drops Stan to the floor (who lets out an indignant “oof!”) before shaking the blanket out over me and Butters. I smile softly at him and he places a soft goodnight kiss on my forehead before unsteadily bending to pick up Stan, leading them both back out the door. I curl my body into Butters’ sleeping form and think of how this night definitely didn’t go as it usually would have gone.

I’m shockingly happy with my decision to head in early and go to sleep without drunkenly hooking up with some random face. I’m happy with my decision to drunkenly curl up next to someone I care deeply for and not make any stupid decisions based upon my intoxication. I’m *yawn* happy … with my decision…

End Transmission.
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