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Fix	By : barrsa Category: +S through Z > South Park > Slash - Male/Male Views: 2701 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own South Park, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Fix
- 1
Author’s note: This is a oneshot, sorta, kinda. Anyway, warnings: drug use, rape-ish-ness, swearing, violence, OOC, etc. Oh, this is my first SP fic and the first piece of writing I’ve ever bothered to post. Because the SP section needs a little lovin’. This hasn’t been beta-ed, so beware of mistakes.

EDIT: LOOK! I have some beautiful fanart from RedYume: http://yaoi.y-gallery.net/view/398726/ !!!!

Fix

Kenny was shaking. It seemed that lately he was always shaking. It was deathly cold inside of his little house, but that had very little to do with it. None of his friends had mentioned his change; Kenny figured they probably didn’t care. Not that it offended him too much, he didn’t give half a shit for their problems either. Someone mistook him for Tweek at a distance just a few days ago. At this memory, be snorted. He was too skinny. He had bags under his eyes. And the shaking - it never stopped. He used to be well built - not bulky, but lean and muscled. He figured that he probably did look a bit like a taller version of Tweek. That was a sad thought.

He curled up, sitting in the corner of his bed, back against the wall. He was trying to break a habit. A very bad habit. One that would most likely kill him. It had been his own brother, Kevin, who had introduced him to heroin, looking for someone to share the habit. Kenny had started only eight months ago, just after his fourteenth birthday. It was all down hill since then. Kenny had done what most of the male white-trash locals did when they enter high school; he dropped out and found a job. For once he got lucky and found a carpenter who looking for workers and willing to teach. Kenny spent most of his time hauling shingles up a ladder and doing other grunt work, but he didn’t mind. It was better than school, and he was learning a trade that he could use for the rest of his life. Then came the drug, and he stopping showing up for work. His employer gave him many more second chances than most sane people would, but in the end had to let him go.

Without money, Kenny couldn’t afford anymore heroin. He went to his supplier and pleaded with the man. His supplier just laughed. There were other ways Kenny could earn his drug, and his supplier sent him to work at once. Kenny was tough looking before the drugs and lack of food wore him down, and that was an advantage. He became a collector, going after guys who (like himself) just couldn’t pay up. Kenny was no stranger to fighting, which proved to be a useful skill when getting money from someone. He played it fair and returned every cent to his boss. However, it wasn’t long before Kenny got himself into shit. He had slipped a little more than his share, and in turn ended up dumped in the middle of nowhere beat to a pulp - and that was just a warning. He learned not to fuck with these people. For the past two months he had been doing what he could to scrounge up money to get his fix. Mostly that meant stealing, or doing odd jobs like shovelling snow. It was just a few days ago that he decided to quit - Kevin was in the hospital from an overdose, not likely to wake up.

Now he felt like he was dying. He had been tired, wore out and weak, but now everything was a hundred times worse. He couldn’t eat without puking, and he could barely keep down water. It was then, sitting in the corner of his bed, shaking, that he decided that he would not go cold turkey. He needed his fix. He needed money. He was too weak to go out and make some money, and he knew that there was nothing worth stealing of his parents.

Kenny had to ask for help. He continued to see his friends regularly up until a few months ago, he hoped that they could lend him something.

Slowly he lifted himself off of the bed, and pulled on his ratty sneakers. He was already wearing his black parka, and he fished his black toque out of the pocket and pulled it on. On the way out he passed by a dirty mirror. His blond hair peeked out from underneath his hat, it needed to be cut, and his cheek bones were too prominent. He was so pale. Kenny didn’t recognise the person he had become. He left the cold house and walked into the colder snow. He slouched over as he walked, and pulled up his faux-fur trimmed hood to hide his face a little.

Kyle’s house was closer, but Kenny knew that he mainly hung out at Stan’s now. Apparently Kyle was growing sick of his overbearing mother. It was a twenty minute walk, and Kenny had puked once on the way there. He shuffled awkwardly on the doorstep for a moment before ringing the bell. After a moment Stan’s mother opened the door.

“Uh… Hi, is uh… Stan here?” Kenny mumbled looking at his holey shoes. Stan’s mother stared a Kenny for a moment, not recognising him.

“Oh! Kenny! He is, come on in,” she moved aside, looking somewhat horrified at his appearance. “It sure has been a while since you’ve been over. You’ve lost weight!” She laughed nervously.

Kenny nodded dumbly and closed the door behind him.

“STAN! DOOR!” his mother called up the stairs, then left Kenny standing alone.

Stan wandered down the stairs, Kyle following close behind (as Kenny expected). Stan paused mid-step when he saw Kenny, and caused Kyle to bump into him (‘Oof!’).

“Hey dude, where have you been?” he said as casually as he could muster, approaching Kenny and patting him on the back.

“Oh, you know, around,” Kenny replied lamely.

Kyle looked the blonde boy over, looking concerned. “So, uh, what’s up, man?”

Kenny shifted and unconsciously rubbed at his arms, where his track marks lay under his coat. “I need to ask a favour.”

Stan nodded, exchanging a glance with Kyle. “Yeah?”

Kenny closed his eyes. He had begged others for money before, but never his friends. “I…I need to borrow some money.”

“No.”

Kenny opened his eyes and looked at Kyle, who was now glaring up at him. Stan turned to his smaller friend and gave him a confused look.

“Kyle…?”

“No Stan. We are not going to help him pay for his drug habit,” Kyle spit out, clearly upset.

Stan looked helplessly from Kenny to Kyle. “We don’t even know if -”

“I’m trying to quit,” Kenny said quietly. He looked very small in his fluffy parka, even though he was almost as tall as Stan. “I just… can’t do it all at once.” The desperation was clear in his strained voice.

Stan looked sympathetic, while Kyle did not.

“I looked into this went you first started working for that drug dealer creep. This is classic addict behaviour, and we are not going to help you kill yourself,” Kyle snapped.

Stan put a hand on Kenny’s shoulder. “Look man, we love you like a brother, and we will help you get over this. If you need a place to stay or food or anything, we’ll be glad to help you. But… just not with drugs.”

Kenny looked from one boy to the other, eyes full of hurt. They didn’t know how it felt. He didn’t need anything else. He just needed a fucking fix.

Stan continued, “Why don’t you hang here for a little while and we can talk about this? You shouldn’t do this alone.”

Kenny shook his head and backed away from Stan’s comforting hand. This was clearly a mistake.

“No, I-uh… Thanks guys, but I gotta…” he trailed off, searching for something in Stan’s eyes, but found no lenience. Without so much as a goodbye, he turned around and quickly left the house.

By the time he stopped running he was exhausted. He fell forwards onto his knees, and dry-heaved; he had nothing left in him to puke. He was lucky that there was no one around to see him. As he sat on the cold side walk in his holey blue jeans, he considered his next move. There was one friend left. Going to Cartman seemed like a worse idea than going back to his old dealer. However, he was more than just desperate now.

The five minute walk to Cartman’s house seemed like hours. He rang the doorbell with a shaking hand. Surprisingly, it was Cartman himself who opened the door.

Cartman smirked down at Kenny. He was in the middle of a growth spurt, and now stood much taller than any of the boys.

“Kyle called me at told me what’s up. Do you really think I’m going to help you?”

Kenny felt the defeat cold in the pit of his stomach. He lurched forward, towards the larger boy. “Please Cartman… Please help me,” he fell forward, but was unconscious before he even hit the ground. Cartman frowned slightly as Kenny fell into him, but easily caught the boy.

“Well fuck,” he muttered underneath his breath, and dragged Kenny inside.

****************************************

When Kenny woke up, he was on Cartman’s bed. Cartman was sitting a few feet away at his computer playing some video game. Kenny moaned and curled into a ball as his stomach clenched.

“Well well, looks like you’re finally awake,” Cartman moved off his chair and over beside the bed. He roughly pulled Kenny out of his ball and into a sitting position before handing him a glass of water. Kenny accepted it and took a few tentative sips.

“So, you’re a crack addict now, eh? Not completely surprising, you know,” Cartman mused in a condescending tone. Kenny ignored him and stared dully at the floor.

“Well here, this might help to take the edge off,” Cartman handed him a joint, which he took into his trembling hand. When Kenny held it to his lips, Cartman lit it for him. He took a long appreciative drag, and coughed weakly as he exhaled.

“Thanks,” he said, his voice rough from the harsh smoke. “How long was I out?”

“Only about half an hour. You owe me for dragging your ass upstairs.” The two boys sat in silence for a moment, then Cartman continued, “I never said that I wouldn’t give you the money. I think I might just help you out this time.”

Kenny’s head jerked up. “What? Really?”

“Yeah… But for a price,” Cartman smirked at him.

The weed was beginning to take effect on Kenny, he could feel the painful knot in his stomach loosening and his headache letting up a little. He considered for a moment… it couldn’t really be any worse than what he did while working for his dealer, could it?

Kenny looked at Cartman, waiting for him to continue. Cartman lowered himself onto the bed beside Kenny. Suddenly he was against the trembling boy, crushing his mouth to Kenny’s. Kenny yelped in surprise, falling backwards onto the bed with Cartman on him. He tried to push the heavy boy off, but was too weak. So he did the only thing he could think of and press the still-lit joint into Cartman’s fleshy upper arm.

“Fuck!” Cartman cried, pulling away from the shocked boy and smacked the joint out of his hand. He got up and stomped the thing out on the carpet. Kenny lifted himself on shaky arms, and watched Cartman with wide eyes.

“What the fuck was that?” Kenny said in a low voice.

Cartman crossed his arms and gave Kenny an annoyed glare. “If you want this money, you’ll lie back and take it, bitch.”

Kenny’s mouth dropped open a little bit. Cartman, the near neo-Nazi, was a queer. And worse than that, he was trying to fuck Kenny.

Cartman rolled his eyes and sat on the bed again. “What, you’re a virgin?”

Kenny blinked. “Well, no-”

“And you’ve never been with a guy before?”

Kenny shrugged, looking away from Cartman’s intense gaze. Kenny had certainly done things with his mouth that he’s not proud of in order to score his fix, but he hardly considered that as “being with another guy”.

“I know you’ve sucked dick for money before Kenny, this isn’t that much different.”

Kenny looked at him, eyes narrowing. Kenny’s hunger and weed clouded mind was catching up with the conversation, and he didn’t like where it was going. Kenny wrapped his arms around himself and looked away again before responding.

“I’ll blow you, if that’s what you want,” he said, trying to sound nonchalant as he felt what little pride he had dissolve.

Cartman chuckled. “Not quite. I’m offering you $50 to lie back, take it, and keep your mouth shut about it.”

Kenny stared blankly ahead for a moment. Cartman was suggesting that he whore himself out. In his current situation, it didn’t seem that outrageous… except for the fact that it was Cartman who wanted it. Kenny had no idea how much whores charged. Sure, the girls he had fucked happened to be slutty, but not a whores by profession. He didn’t want Cartman to screw him out of money… But then again, what choice did he have?

“Sure,” was his simple reply, barely louder than a whisper.

Cartman’s reaction was immediate and surprisingly violent. He punched Kenny in the face, sending him sprawling back on the bed. Kenny thought he might have heard Cartman mutter, “That’s for burning me bitch,” but he was too dazed to be sure. Cartman was on top of him immediately, his mouth biting cruelly at his neck and his hands roughly pulling off Kenny’s coat. Kenny moaned in pain and turned his head away from Cartman, spitting some blood from his split lip onto the floor. He could feel the side of his face beginning to swell already. Cartman pulled Kenny up by the front of his shirt, then promptly ripped it off over his head. Next to go were his jeans and boxers. Cartman roughly wrapped a hand around Kenny’s flaccid length and began to pump his fist up and down. He locked his lips with Kenny’s again, forcing his tongue deep into his mouth, tasting blood.

Kenny knew situations like this. Situations like this made up most of his life. He had formed a way of dealing with problems like these. He let himself go somewhere else. Somewhere softer. He felt Cartman’s meaty hands moving over his naked, trembling body. He was able to disconnect himself from Cartman’s rough hands and growled insults, his shamefully hard length, and the way Cartman’s mouth occasionally pressed to his. That is, until Cartman stuck two slick fingers into his ass. Kenny hissed in pain and tried to move away from the invading fingers.

“Do you like that, bitch?” Cartman growled, using his free hand to spread Kenny’s legs open more. Kenny said nothing in reply, he just gasped at the foreign pain. He felt the bed shift and his legs forced toward his chest as Cartman leaned over him. Cartman slapped him sharply across the face.

“If you want that money you are going to play. I asked you a question you dirty slut,” Cartman snarled inches from his face.

Kenny cried out as Cartman thrust his fingers in harder. “I.. Ah! It hurts!” Kenny despised the sounds of his own voice. He sounded like a dirty slut.

Suddenly Cartman hit something within him that made his vision blur and his back arch. He cried out in surprise and pleasure.

“How about that, you worthless whore?”

“Ah.. Ohgod… Cartman,” Kenny writhed under the other boy’s weight.

“Call me daddy,” Cartman whispered, his lips brushing Kenny’s ear. Kenny opened his eyes in surprise. It took him half a second to digest the disturbing request.

“Daddy,” Kenny moaned, cursing himself in his head for being such a good little slut. He felt the need for a fix gnawing at him - his pride could take a backseat.

Cartman’s movements were becoming jerky and frantic, Kenny felt the restrained violence behind every touch. Cartman added a third finger roughly, further stretching Kenny’s abused ass. Kenny cried out and pushed weakly at Cartman’s shoulders.

“Please, daddy, please,” Kenny whispered, he could feel tears threatening to fall from his bloodshot eyes.

Cartman shuddered pleasurably at the use of the name, and fell into a gentler pace. Soon Kenny was moaning again as Cartman hit his prostate.

All at once Cartman was off of him and his fingers were removed. Kenny moaned softly and opened his eyes to see was Cartman was up to. Cartman undressed as quickly as he could, and knelt again between Kenny’s legs. He took the bottle of lubricant and squeezed out enough to rub along his engorged shaft. Kenny’s eyes widened at the sight of Cartman’s impressive cock. Who fucking knew.

Cartman pushed Kenny’s legs up again and lied over him, both stretching his legs uncomfortably and crushing him. He felt Cartman position himself at his entrance and slowly push himself inside. Kenny felt as if he was being torn in half; he screamed as Cartman pushed in all the way.

“Oh fuck, oh please, Cartman, stop, oh fuck,” Kenny begged desperately, clawing useless at his broad back.

Cartman was panting deeply above him, and lowered himself so that his forehead rested on Kenny’s.

“I. Need. This,” Cartman said, staring deeply into Kenny’s eyes.

“Eric, you’re hurting me,” Kenny said, voice straining. Cartman exhaled sharply and kissed Kenny deeply, passionately. Kenny’s scream was muffled by Cartman’s mouth as Cartman began ramming into him.

In the end, the mixture of pain and pleasure made Kenny come. He came a few minutes before Cartman, who then collapsed on top of the blond boy. Kenny was no longer crying, he had retreated into himself quickly after it began. He didn’t even made a sound as Cartman pulled his limp member out of him and sat back on his knees, allowing blood and cum to run down Kenny’s thighs. It was then that Cartman did something even stranger than anything else that day; he pulled Kenny up against his chest and began to sob into his blond matted hair. Kenny allowed himself to he held, and cried upon. Without Cartman’s body on his, he began to feel the cold and pressed closer to the sobbing boy. Slowly, numbly, he wrapped one of his arms around Cartman, then used the other to stroke his hair.

“It’s okay,” Kenny whispered in monotone, not knowing or caring why Cartman was upset. After a time, Cartman’s sobs ceased and the boy stilled. He pulled away from Kenny, refusing to meet the other boy’s eyes. Kenny dropped his head and wrapped his arms around his frail chest.

Cartman pulled his clothes back on, and then pulled out his wallet. He took out two twenties and a ten and handed them to Kenny, who didn’t even lift his head as he accepted them.

Cartman sighed at the pathetic sight on his bed. “Feel free to use the shower… and grab yourself something to eat while you’re here.” Cartman left the room, and Kenny heard him go downstairs. He wondered idly if Cartman left the house.

It took Kenny fifteen minutes before he dared to stand up, and then another ten to hobble down the hall to the bathroom. He took a long shower, washing away the blood and cum mechanically. In the back of his mind he appreciated how nice it was to have a shower with hot water in a clean bathroom. He towelled himself off, dressed, and headed slowly downstairs. He briefly considered Cartman’s offer of food, but decided against it when he heard the TV on in the living room. Cartman hadn’t left.

Kenny left the house without saying anything to him. The first thing he did was buy heroin and shoot up. It wasn’t more than a month before he was a Cartman’s doorstep again.
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