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when the fuck did my heart start beating for you?

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The house they shared was bizarrely empty - it was a rainy day, a grey day. Perfect for staying indoors. Kenny didn't really have anything to do. He'd spent the better half of an hour laying on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. Maybe he should jack off.

It was always nice when the loudmouths (meaning Kyle and Cartman) were gone. Those two had gotten rather close as of late, and Kenny was loath to think about what they did together in their spare time. He put it out of his mind - better to focus on relaxing rather than...that.

The air in his room was cold. He wondered if he was the only one home. In the back of his mind, he knew that a day wasted would only make him feel guilty later, but he couldn't bring himself to sit up. Not when his bed was this comfy, not when he risked running into one of his so-called friends.

Oh shit, speak of the devil.

There was the telltale rap of knuckles on his door. He tensed - please don't let it be Kyle. He didn't have time to listen to another one of that idiot's rants. Please don't let it be Cartman. He didn't have time to get involved with whatever scheme that asshole was cooking up.

Please let it be Stan.

The knuckles hit the door again, lightly, not wanting to be intrusive. It had to be Stan, seeing as the other two would've barged in uninvited by now. Kenny reluctantly sat up, wondering what could possibly be the matter. Stretching his arms out as if to force energy to flow into them, he yelled come in!

"Uh...hey, sorry to bug you. Do you think we could talk for a sec?" Stan mumbled, sticking his head through the crack between the door and the wall. His eyes were as sad as ever, almost grey in the dim light of the room. Kenny felt himself soften a bit. He was always down for a little sad boy sesh.

"Of course, dude. Come on in." Kenny smiled, patting the space beside him on the bed. He watched Stan's willowy frame slip into the room and silently take his place beside him. The door remained open - Stan would've closed it had Kyle and Cartman been home, and knowing that they were all alone made Kenny heave a sigh of relief.

"So...what's up?" Kenny asked, making sure to keep his voice low and soft. He knew Stan could be a pretty sensitive guy, and judging by the look on his face, things weren't going that great for him.

Stan remained quiet, eyebrows furrowed as he tried to come up with a way to phrase himself. Kenny discreetly checked his face for any signs of drunkenness. But nope, his eyes were clear and his cheeks were pale. He was sober and likely crashing pretty hard.

"I just...wanted to like, vent, if that's alright with you." He ventured, flitting his eyes upward to meet Kenny's. The fact that he was polite enough to ask - Kenny seriously wondered how a good kid like Stan could even bear being friends with people like Kyle and Cartman. He grinned, slinging a protective arm around his bro.

"Of course. Go ahead."

Stan sighed, a delicate little sound that meant he was thinking things over. "I just...well, it's hard for me to put it into words. I've been kinda...thinking about stuff lately. Like, identity and stuff. I'm not, like, eloquent, you know that, so...I don't really know how to explain it." He mumbled, tripping over himself a bit. He was being pretty sincere, and Kenny wanted to give him space to talk.

"Like, I dunno. I know you wouldn't really judge, but I think the other guys would. I just...it feels like I don't even know who I am anymore. What I am." He continued. Kenny didn't exactly know what he was getting at, but this was the first time Stan had brought up shit like that with him, so he wasn't about to stop him. He was happy to learn more.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, Kenny, I think...I need to move."

The sentiment came out of nowhere, really. Stan had always been the most stagnant member of their little group, the one whose ambitions had been the least apparent. Kenny really didn't want him to move. He didn't know what he'd do if he was left to deal with the other two on his own.

"Move? Why?" He asked, grip tightening ever so slightly.

"I wanna go somewhere more accepting." Stan stated simply. Kenny thought back to the way he'd spoken about his identity - maybe this was Stan's subtle way of coming out to him? He didn't know, and he didn't want to assume anything. But he had to admit the vagueness was pissing him off a bit. He'd wanted to believe that Stan would trust him with that kinda stuff.

"Accepting...dude, you know Cartman's gay, right? And I've never been picky about gender and shit. We'd like you no matter who you were." Kenny said, taking a bit of a risk. If this wasn't where the convo was headed, he'd probably have lost his chance to get to know Stan a little better.

"It's not like that." He mumbled, making Kenny's heart drop with embarrassment. "I...dude, I wanna go somewhere where I don't have to...you know, be as much of a guy as I have to be here. And...look, this is really embarrassing, but I'm gonna be completely real with you right now."

It was probably the most Kenny had heard Stan speak at once in a long time. He listened.

"There's someone here who I like, and they don't feel the same. And when I tried to be real about this...confusion shit with them, they kinda...didn't take it that great. Like, I dunno. I just want less pressure."

There he went again with the vagueness, but Kenny could venture a guess as to what he was talking about. He didn't want to pry, but he assumed that something had happened between him and Kyle. Kyle wasn't exactly the best person to go to with problems, especially those pertaining to issues of identity. He'd probably said something stupid. Kenny sighed. He didn't exactly know how to comfort Stan without making him uncomfortable. These sentiments were complex, and Kenny was reluctant to make any more assumptions.

"I mean, just because you two had a falling out doesn't mean you have to move. But...if it's something you've been thinking about for a while, I say go for it. It could be good for you. But just know that I wouldn't judge you for that stuff." Kenny spoke carefully. He studied Stan's expression - suddenly, a lot of things started to make sense.

There was the way he dressed - baggy shit, hiding his body.

There was the way he wore his hair - just long enough to be androgynous.

There was the way he'd never been able to be intimate with people.

Kenny was taken aback - he felt sorta honored that Stan had trusted him enough to tell him, if only in his own subtle way. The past couple years, he'd sorta collapsed into himself - retreated from his friendships into alcohol and introspection. Kenny suddenly felt ashamed that he hadn't been there for him.

But if it meant Stan had finally come to some sort of revelation about himself, Kenny supposed that was a good thing. All he could do now is try his best to support him.

"Look, if you're having troubles with...you know, your identity, I'm here to listen. Always. I don't totally understand that kinda stuff, but I promise I'd never make fun of you. And Kyle's an ass for talking shit on your feelings."

Stan's eyes were growing a little glassy, glistening with the beginnings of tears, and Kenny's heart suddenly felt a swell of emotion. What was this feeling? His whole body was warm as he watched tiny tears start to roll down that pale face.

Stan suddenly moved forward, pulling Kenny into a tight hug. "Thank you." Kenny didn't know what to say or feel - he wrapped his arms tightly around that thin frame, feeling as though he were balanced on a tightrope. It was a fragile moment - but he held Stan close.

"Is there anything you want me to do?" Kenny asked, voice scarcely above a whisper. "Should I change...the way I call you? Something like that?" It was uncharted territory, and given Stan's current state, he didn't want to say anything uncomfortable.

"It's fine," Stan assured him, resting his head on Kenny's shoulder. "I still don't even know what I want people to call me. I don't even know what to call myself." He went on. Kenny could understand that - Stan's confusion was palpable, and though the situation was complex, the way in which Stan expressed himself was refreshingly simple.

"Kenny..." Stan mumbled, pulling away and looking him in the eyes. There was an unreadable emotion on Stan's face, but Kenny wasn't focused on that. He was mainly taken aback at the fact that Stan looked...really cute. His eyes were still watery, but the tears had stopped falling for the most part. A bit of color was starting to form on his cheeks, and Kenny couldn't help but to imagine...

"Can I ask you a weird question?"

Kenny was snapped out of his indulgent daydreaming. A weird question? If there was anything Kenny loved, it was weird questions. "Of course you can."

Stan looked away. His cheeks were definitely pink now, Kenny hadn't been imagining that. Wait, holy shit - Kenny's heart was racing. This was weird - this was bad. He bit his lip, trying to compose himself. This definitely wasn't a situation to be thinking about shit like that. Calm down, McCormick.

"I've been...really fucking lonely lately." Stan admitted. No shit, Sherlock."And this is pathetic of me, but...I figured if anyone would be willing, it'd be you." He rambled. The more he went on without getting to the point, the more Kenny's heart went haywire. Where on earth was this going?

"Could you...kiss me? Just once?" He asked, finally locking eyes with Kenny again. It was a genuine request, that much was obvious by the way Stan's eyebrows furrowed upwards, already anticipating a rejection.

It was pathetically cute, and Kenny almost leaned in right then and there. But he knew Stan was vulnerable, and he didn't want to take advantage of his loneliness. But god, it was difficult to hold back. Stan slowly brought his hand up to rest over Kenny's own, and though it was a gesture that shouldn't have gotten him worked up, Kenny felt blood rush to his cheeks.

Shit.

Kenny decided fuck it. It was just a kiss.

"Of course." He smiled, bringing his hand up to cup Stan's cheek. Shit, had his skin always been this soft? Kenny's heart was, quite literally, running a marathon, and he couldn't remember the last time he'd been this genuinely nervous around someone. It was just a kiss. Why was he panicking?

Slowly slowly slowly, he leaned in, giving Stan time to pull away if he changed his mind. But nope, Stan's eyes closed, long eyelashes fluttering as he pursed his lips in anticipation. Cute.

He kissed him.

Kenny was used to taking things fast, but something told him he had to control himself. Stan was in a delicate place - and therefore the kiss too had to be delicate. He shut his eyes - his mind was going fuzzy as he moved his lips against Stan's. He was nervous too. Hesitant. Kenny's heart could hardly take it.

Tentatively, Stan brought his arms up and wrapped them around Kenny's shoulders, pulling him closer. The way he moved - it was so slow and gentle that Kenny almost felt like he was being teased. He wanted more, but he knew he had to match Stan's pace lest he scare him off. It was torture.

Kenny felt Stan part his lips. It was a timid gesture, but Kenny took the invitation and ran with it. He knew he was a good kisser, and he was determined to show that skill off. He slipped his tongue inside, deepening the kiss, wrapping an arm around Stan's waist. It took massive amounts of self-restraint not to reach down and start incorporating his signature ass-grab.

"Mmm-"

It was a tiny sound, barely audible, but Kenny swore on his life that that was a goddamn moan. Fuck, this was getting to be too much. The blood that had been pooling in his cheeks was instantly rerouted south, and the fact that Stan was so earnest, kissing him so innocently - well, weirdly enough, it was a huge turn-on.

Just before things got steamy, Stan pulled away. Kenny had never seen him blush that hard - it was adorable.

He was silent for a moment.

"...Thanks." He smiled, unable to make eye contact. The arms that were still wrapped around Kenny's shoulders were trembling, and holy shit -

Kenny had never really realized before, but Stan Marsh was totally fuckable.

"We can do that again. Whenever you want." Kenny blurted, unafraid of sounding desperate. He was a little desperate. Stan instantly looked away, flitting his eyes downward. Unfortunately, this little sign of bashfulness meant that Stan...locked eyes with Kenny's boner. Shit. Shit.

Politely, Stan didn't mention it, though he didn't take his eyes off of it. This gesture made Kenny even harder. What if he's...impressed or something? That would be hot. Kenny tried to make his brain shut the fuck up, seeing as it was spouting the weirdest shit, but it was no use. His entire body was hot as he waited for Stan to make a move.

Finally, Stan lifted his head. The tiny grin on his face made Kenny's heart throb almost as hard as his dick. What a disgusting mess of a dude he was, embarrassing himself in front of someone he'd just realized was the cutest goddamn thing in the world.

"Yeah, I wouldn't mind doing it again." He mumbled, still awkward but definitely more composed than Kenny. Carefully, Stan moved forward. Kenny didn't move - he didn't want anything to get in the way of what Stan may or may not be about to do.

His arms still draped around Kenny, reluctant to let go (cute), Stan hauled himself up onto Kenny's lap, closing the distance between them. Oh, fuck...

"Is...is this okay?" Stan asked, voice a whisper. His face was so close - Kenny was able to study each and every feature. Dammit, he was pretty. Too pretty. It was as if he could break at any moment, the sort of beauty that seemed almost accidental, so close to falling apart. It made Kenny feel warm in all sorts of fucked up ways.

"Uh, yeah, more than okay." Kenny retorted, a little too late to avoid awkwardness. He rested his hands on Stan's hips, hands shaky. It took everything in him to hold back from feeling up his ass. He really really really wanted to, but he couldn't treat Stan like a tinder hookup. He had to go slow.

It was Stan who initiated the kiss this time, gently pressing his lips to Kenny's. It was a quick peck, and Kenny could tell he was about to pull away - he couldn't let that happen. He brought one hand up to cradle the back of Stan's head, keeping him there.

He took control without a second thought, using his lips to force open Stan's own, kissing him with an intensity that he'd honestly never even felt before. Stan was obviously out of his depth, and he held onto Kenny as though his life depended on it, letting him take the lead.

His hands dipped down, moving at a slow enough pace for Stan to be able to stop them if he so desired, but it seemed as though he was too occupied with the kiss to even think about putting the brakes on this other shit. He grabbed shamelessly at Stan's ass, only to be taken aback by the fact that he actually had an ass.

Oh shit. There's...fuck, there's totally stuff to grab. What the fuck.

Kenny had always assumed someone as thin and willowy as Stan couldn't have a substantial rear end, but here he was being proven wrong. The more you know.

Stan moved his hips against Kenny's hands as if to test out what it felt like to grind on someone. Kenny wondered if he'd ever done this before...of course he had, right? It wasn't as though Kenny was his first...well, knowing Stan, that was entirely possible, but it was too cute to even think about without exploding, so Kenny set the thought aside.

Stan broke the kiss, though his hips continued to move subtly against Kenny's. He was totally gone, that much was obvious. Pupils huge, cheeks bright pink, mouth hanging open in stunned silence.

"Kenny, I'm sorry-" He sighed, hands balling up in the fabric of Kenny's shirt as he kept moving. Kenny was at a loss as to what Stan could possibly be apologizing for, but his brain was also kind of nonexistent.

"Mmm...sorry for what?"

"Uh, I...you know. For getting you hard." Stan mumbled, as though he were embarrassed to even say it out loud. Kenny knew what he meant - he was too nervous to follow through with it, he felt bad for being a tease. Honestly? Kenny could care less. Stan had given him enough mental images for his spank bank to make up for that entirely.

"If you...want me to do something about it, I could try-" He offered, voice breaking, cracking upwards with arousal. Kenny had never heard anything so hot. He knew better, knew not to push Stan, but god...he wanted to take him up on that offer.

"That's up to you-" Kenny said, mentally slapping himself for letting the opportunity slip away. But he knew he'd done the right thing. It was better to leave control in Stan's hands.

"What would you want me to do?" Stan asked, his voice so small that Kenny half-thought he might've been making that question up.

Kenny could think of a million things he'd want Stan to do...but honestly? He'd rather do things to Stan. His breath hitched as he pictured it - god. He wanted that, he wanted that so fucking bad- hey, there was no harm in asking, right?

"Well...if you want a real answer, I'd..." Kenny began, though his courage tapered out as soon as he locked eyes with Stan, who was visibly aroused. Damn. It was a good look on him - the color it brought to his face made him look alive in a way Kenny hadn't seen in years.

"...yeah?" Stan urged him to continue.

"I mean, this is just wishful thinking," Kenny warned him. "But...I'd want you to let me fuck you." He stammered, instantly cringing at the way his voice wavered, betraying him, showing Stan how fucking nervous he was.

Stan climbed off of Kenny's lap, sitting back on the bed. This is it. I fucked it up.

"...okay."

What?

Kenny blinked, as if to refresh himself, trying to confirm if he'd heard that right. What the fuck?

"To be honest, I was...sorta hoping you'd say that." Stan giggled, hanging his head in obvious self-consciousness. Kenny still couldn't believe his ears. He was the luckiest bastard in the whole universe. "I mean, not to be creepy, seriously, like- don't judge me for this, but..." He continued, looking up at Kenny before instantly dropping his head again. "I've thought about that before."

Holy shit.

Was this really okay?

"So have I." Kenny chuckled, grabbing Stan's hand and squeezing it. He seriously felt 15 again. Like he was about to experience sex for the first time all over again. Why was Stan getting to him this much? He could question it as much as he wanted, but it wouldn't change a thing. Wouldn't change how terrified he was of fucking this up.

"Really?" Stan seemed genuinely taken aback. He met Kenny's eyes with a smile so sweet that it almost knocked him out. "Dude...you're like, hot though." He went on. Kenny wondered if Stan was really that stupid.

"Stan, come on." Kenny stammered, hand doing that whole affectionate thumb bullshit unprompted. How embarrassing. "You're pretty as fuck. Don't act like I'm out of your league. If anything, you're out of mine." He admitted, blushing like a middle schooler as they fucking held hands.

"Pretty?" Stan's voice was hushed, but Kenny could tell he was happy. "Nobody's ever called me pretty before. I...that felt really good." He laughed. It was a sincere laugh, one of disbelief. God damn. The person in front of him must really be an angel. Kenny was staring shamelessly, enamored with how much Stan was glowing.

"Well...come on then." He ventured, looking up at Kenny expectantly, eyes dark with anticipation. His little smile...Kenny was gonna fucking die any second now. This was just...one hundred percent too much.

"You ever done this before?" Kenny shakily asked. He had to know.

"Uh,"

Stan looked mortified. His expression said it all - he'd been caught. Being a virgin in college was pretty lame, technically speaking, but Kenny couldn't hide the fact that he was just...completely ecstatic he had the chance to be Stan's first. It cast an extra layer of pressure onto him - he had to be gentle, had to be amazing -

"Is it really that easy to tell?"

"Don't worry. I'll be super careful with you..." Kenny encouraged him, hands already playing with the hem of Stan's sweater.

"I'm not that delicate." Stan assured him, taking the hint and slowly bringing his hands down, starting to tug off his top. Kenny just stared. It was totally shameless - all he wanted in that moment was to see Stan get naked, and he wasn't embarrassed to admit that to himself.

His collarbone, his shoulders, his waist...Kenny couldn't take his eyes off of him if he tried. Damn. He was so pale, so perfect, like a little porcelain doll. Kenny was almost afraid to touch him. He was gorgeous.

"Don't stare at me like that, dude-" Stan chuckled. "You're making me self-conscious-"

"Sorry-"

Stan stood up, undoing his jeans and pulling them down until they pooled around his ankles. He was facing away from Kenny, meaning that he got a view. Shit, Kenny couldn't even pretend he was in control anymore. He was out of breath, arms shaky, dick humiliatingly hard.

The way Stan's slim waist tapered out as it met his hips, that fucking ass, what the fuck, this absolutely had to be illegal. Kenny debated whether or not to call the cops and report a case of unlawful hotness.

Stan looked over his shoulder, letting out a twinkle of a laugh at Kenny's unabashed arousal. Kenny could absolutely tell he was scared, not used to having this much leverage, this much control. "Something wrong?" He ventured, most likely noticing the way that Kenny's mouth was hanging open like a fish.

"Stan, not to be weird, but...you have a fantastic ass." Kenny blurted, almost catching the words on his tongue before they came out, but it was too late. The compliment hung in the air like a disco ball, blinding Stan with its sheer tackiness and lack of class. Adorably enough, Stan glanced at his own rear end, as if to see whether or not Kenny had been telling the truth.

"...Thanks?" He mumbled, sitting back down on the bed. He looked at Kenny expectantly. I've done my part, now do yours, his eyes said. It really seemed as though Stan was at a loss as to how foreplay worked. You really weren't supposed to methodically strip unless you were putting on a show of it, usually the clothes just came off naturally.

But it was cute, and Kenny wanted him to feel comfortable, so he humored him. He tugged off his sweatshirt, slid off his jeans. Stan was silent as he did so, watching him with eager eyes. This is hella awkward.

Stan reached forward in an unexpected show of bravery. He rested his hand on the bulge in Kenny's underwear, tentatively grabbing at it. He seemed focused of all things, touching as if he were appraising Kenny's dick, sizing it up through the fabric.

It was so strange that Kenny's disbelief almost overtook his horniness. Almost, but not quite. That felt good, and coupled with the image of Stan's cute little face, he almost came right then and there.

"You're big," Stan stated uselessly, a hint of worry in his voice. "I mean, don't get me wrong, that's hot, but...careful, okay?" He murmured, eyes flitting upward to meet Kenny's for a split second. "I...can't believe I'm about to do this. Finally, right?" He laughed, though Kenny could tell this was really difficult for him. He was being vulnerable, opening himself up to a lot. Kenny knew that above all else, he had to be gentle.

"Hey, don't get worried. We can stop whenever you want-" Kenny assured him, leaning forward and gently pressing on his shoulders, urging him to lie down. The juxtaposition of his words and actions was pretty fucking jarring, but at this point, Kenny was too far gone to act with any semblance of dignity.

Stan obeyed the requests of Kenny's hands, lying on his back and spreading his legs enough for Kenny to fit between them. He had long legs - soft and pale and beautiful. Considering Stan's (now understandable) penchant for androgyny, Kenny wasn't surprised that he shaved them. He ran his hands over the smooth skin, tempted to bite those pale thighs, to mark him.

He almost did it, but he decided against it at the last second.

"Kenny..." Stan sighed, voice almost a moan. "Do you...even like me?"

What kind of a question was that? It should've been completely obvious how Kenny felt, but it seemed as though Stan's self-confidence wasn't high enough to even believe it. He wanted to slap him, but he knew he had to tread with caution. He couldn't convince him through sex alone.

Kenny leaned down and kissed him, trying his best to convey exactly how he felt. He'd never been good with words, but the kiss bought him enough time to try to come up with something Stan would appreciate. Stan wrapped his arms around Kenny's back, holding him close. It was obvious he appreciated being touched like this.

"Stan, you're...you're one of the best people I know. Like, genuinely. You're a good person. Interesting, too. You know, you really see things differently than most people around here. I think you're gonna go pretty far as soon as you get outta here." Kenny blurted, surprising himself. He'd always thought that way about Stan, but the words came out so effortlessly.

"And of course I like you. In that way. Trust me, if I were doing this with someone I didn't give a shit about, we'd probably already be finished by now. I'm taking it slow because I wanna savor the time I've got with you." He continued, mentally congratulating himself for actually coming up with something coherent in the midst of his horniness.

Stan was looking up at him with wide, watery eyes. Oh shit, was he really...crying? Well, it certainly wasn't anything new. Stan got emotional pretty quickly, and this situation was nothing if not full of emotion. Kenny wiped his tears away, heart almost leaping right out of his throat as he saw the corners of Stan's lips turn upwards at his words.

"Kenny..." He murmured, obviously at a loss. His eyes held the words: why didn't you tell me sooner? It was a decent question. Kenny supposed that he'd avoided confronting the issue simply because he valued his friendship with Stan and didn't necessarily wanna put the only real bond he had in this town at risk.

"Trust me. You're amazing." Kenny grinned, leaning down to kiss him again. Stan reciprocated with a surprising amount of eagerness, kissing and kissing until Kenny was practically left breathless. It was adorable.

It was with reluctance that Kenny broke the kiss, sitting up and fumbling in his the drawer of his bedside table for lube. Thankfully, he still had a little left. Stan's eyes were wide, watching every movement Kenny made, jaw stiff as though he were already trying to brace himself.

He slid Stan's underwear up over his thighs, past his calves, off his body entirely. The last time he'd seen Stan naked was when they were in sixth grade. He'd been famously hesitant to change in front of his friends ever since then, waiting until everyone else left before he'd so much as remove his shirt. Kenny understood that seeing him like this was a sign of trust on Stan's part.

"Don't stare." Stan said, a surprising amount of worry in his voice. Kenny hadn't even noticed he was staring. He knew this was sensitive territory. He knew that. But it was hard for him to hold back. God, it was hard. Yup, this is hard, Kenny's dick agreed.

"Sorry," Kenny mumbled, squirting a dollop of lube onto his fingers, hand shaky. A lot of it ended up on his sheets, but fuck it, who cares? "I'll be gentle, but this might feel weird. Just let me know if you wanna stop, okay?" There was zero confidence in his voice, and he could only hope that Stan was too oblivious to notice.

"Okay." Came the small reply. Stan spread his legs a little further to allow Kenny access, but it was clear by the way his thighs trembled that he was close to completely bailing on the situation. When Kenny looked up for a moment, he saw that Stan's normally-pale face had gone completely red. Fuck, that's cute-

Slowly, gently, he moved his index finger around the tight ring of muscle, attempting to loosen it a bit. He'd done this plenty of times before, but usually with guys who had experience. He'd never been someone's first, and he definitely felt the pressure - he urged the tip of his finger inside, sliding it about halfway in before -

"Eep!"

Kenny almost laughed - what the fuck was that? Did Stan Marsh really just squeak? Fuck, that was precious - suddenly, the pressure seemed to melt away a little. He couldn't possibly be more embarrassing than Stan.

"You okay?" He asked, moving in further. Jesus, Stan was tight. He supposed that made sense, but he couldn't help but worry about hurting him. "Does it hurt?"

"No, it...definitely feels weird, but it doesn't hurt," Stan mused, voice breathy and weak, though he still managed to get all the words out without a hitch. "You can keep going-"

Kenny slipped a second finger in, though it was almost painful with Stan clamping down around him like that. He had to find a way to calm him down - he moved his fingers deeper, upwards, searching-

"Ah-!! Kenny-!! What-!!" Stan yelped, voice almost edging upwards into a falsetto. Kenny couldn't help it, he cracked up, laughter flowing out over the two of them and sweeping away any last traces of awkwardness. Stan's legs were twitching with pleasure, and he quickly covered his mouth to keep any further embarrassments from flowing out.

"You like that?" Kenny chuckled, rubbing his fingertips against that spot again, causing Stan to arch his back and let out a muffled cry of pleasure. Shit - Kenny didn't think he'd ever been this turned on in his whole life - he hurriedly scissored his fingers, eager to get to the good part already.

"Kenny--" Stan moaned, an honest-to-god moan, soft and labored, cracking with palpable arousal. Kenny wished he'd recorded that. It was gorgeous.

"You ready?"

Stan nodded, eyes still watery from before. His cheeks were pink and his lips were parted, ragged breaths escaping through them.

Kenny tugged down his boxers with an enthusiasm that he was certain came across as comical, his dick springing free like a fucking balloon of excitement. Stan giggled at the obvious air of eagerness, sending chills down Kenny's spine. Fuck. He's so beautiful. Is...is this really okay? What kind of saint was I in a past life to deserve someone like this?

"Just tell me if it hurts-" He insisted, grabbing the backs of Stan's thighs and slowly pressing himself inside. He watched Stan's cute little face as he braced himself, teeth digging into his lower lip, eyes screwed shut, eyebrows quivering. He'd never seen Stan make a face like that before, and he almost wished he'd fucking brought his camera, propped it up on the dresser - his mind wasn't powerful enough to capture the memory in as vivid detail as he wanted.

He went further, further, until he was all the way inside. He let go of a breath he didn't even know he'd been holding. God. Stan was tight, but in the best way possible - Kenny was practically panting as he held onto those legs, watched Stan's chest rise and fall as he let himself grow used to the feeling.

"Fuck-" Kenny sighed. There was no other word to describe the situation. Just, fuck.

He could feel Stan clenching around him, could hear his ragged breaths - his expression grew less tense, and eventually, he opened his eyes, blinking away tears as he stared up at Kenny.

"I'm-" He began, before swallowing his words, possibly deeming them too humiliating to even say. Kenny wanted to hear, he wanted to hear so badly - he brought a hand up to Stan's cheek, stroking it affectionately as if to coax the thoughts out of him. "I'm so happy-" He finally admitted, causing a fucking spear to go through Kenny's heart.

That was just too much. Stan was too cute to exist. Kenny had to call the cops.

"Fuck, me too-" Kenny grinned, pulling his hips back, staring down at Stan as if to ask for permission. Stan shut his eyes gently, and that was all the confirmation he needed - he pulled out and slammed back in, causing those blue eyes to fly open again, a sound that could only be described as a squeal escaping Stan's mouth.

He dug his nails into Kenny's back, and that little sting of pain drove him crazy. Stan felt way too good - Kenny knew he couldn't go back to tinder hookups, not after this. He just couldn't. He absolutely could not let this be a one-time thing.

Kenny pushed Stan's thighs back, going deeper - he obviously hit a good spot, seeing as Stan's whole body tensed up, squeezed him so tight, nails leaving red trails down his back.

"Kenny- Kenny--" Stan gasped, voice barely audible. He was totally lost in the pleasure, eyes wet, tiny happy tears rolling down his cheeks as he held onto Kenny for dear life. "I love you- I really do-" He cried, nuzzling up into the crook of Kenny's neck, his words full of a completely unexpected conviction.

There was no response for that except heart failure.

Miraculously, Kenny's poor heart powered through as he continued his feverish thrusting, mind still catching up with the weight of those wonderful words. Shit, shit, shit, he was taking too long, Stan broke eye contact, his ecstatic grin replaced with the beginnings of a frown, Kenny had to fucking get on his wavelength real quick-

"God, I love you too-" Kenny moaned - it took him aback, how good those words felt to say. As soon as he said them, he never wanted to stop saying them- and the great thing was that he didn't have to. "Fuck, I love you so much - I love you - I love you-" He panted, voice breaking with pleasure.

It felt amazing to say that. Kenny felt as though this was the first time he'd ever really understood what love felt like.

Stan was crying, but he was smiling, smiling with honesty, and Kenny's heart swelled at the fact that he'd been the one to make him that happy. "Kenny-" He whispered, cheeks soaked with tears. "Stay with me-- please- stay with me-"

It was heartbreaking for Kenny to even think about - even in the throes of passion, Stan was certain there was no future for them. Kenny hated that, hated everything about that, and he shut that train of thought up, pressing his lips to Stan's own, hips snapping forward even faster.

He felt too good - Kenny wasn't going to last. He brought a hand down, wrapping it around Stan's dick, drinking up the ensuing moans. They were so close, so connected - Kenny was struck with a sense of warmth he didn't think he'd ever felt before. He pumped his hand up and down, hips moving with an almost panicked fervor, kissing Stan as hard as he possibly could.

It didn't take long before Stan came all over his hand, body tightening up and squeezing around Kenny to the point where it felt too good- Kenny lost control, absolutely fucking the shit out of Stan, notions of being gentle long gone. He broke the kiss, grabbing Stan's wrists and holding him down as he pounded into him.

"Kenny- Kenny- Kenny-" Came the pleasured cries, dripping with sweetness, filling up Kenny's ears and heart. He was gone, he was totally gone. He was absolutely, irrevocably in love with Stan Marsh, and he knew this vulnerability was dangerous. If Stan decided he never wanted to do this again, Kenny would probably fall apart.

But in that moment, he didn't care one bit. All he cared about was how pretty Stan looked when he was getting fucked, mouth open in ecstacy, eyes closed but still leaking tears, face pink, body arching upward, hair splayed out across the pillow - he was an angel.

Kenny couldn't take it anymore. He came inside, gripping Stan's thin arms hard enough to bruise. Stan let out a soft gasp of surprise at the sensation, but didn't fight it. He relaxed around Kenny, holding him close as he rode out his climax. God. Stan Marsh had to be the most beautiful person on the planet.

As soon as it was over, Kenny felt a sense of dread - he pulled out and flopped next to Stan, watching him stare up at the ceiling, body still struggling to calm down. He was everything Kenny had ever wanted.

And he was completely silent, mulling over what had just happened with a conflicted expression.

"That was the best-" Kenny panted, realizing he'd probably never catch his breath again as long as he lived, not with the way his heart felt about Stan.

"Kenny..." Stan whispered, finally rolling over onto his side, facing him. "Do you really love me...?"

"Stan, I think I actually might-" Kenny admitted. The feeling was still all kinds of surprising, but he could handle it. What he couldn't handle was if Stan didn't feel the same.

"Is that really...okay...? Are you okay being with someone like me?" Stan asked, face close, once again allowing Kenny to realize just how flawless he was.

"Of course I am."

Stan was still crying a little. The waterworks were slowing, but Kenny still felt the wetness of his cheeks when Stan curled up against him, rested his face on Kenny's chest. He didn't have to say anything more.

He fell asleep, and in that show of vulnerability was a promise.