Work Text:
Kyle tied the apron around his waist, glad that at least the dress code allowed for jeans and tshirts. He stepped over containers in the tiny back room, stepping out onto the floor to be whistled at soon as the door swung back behind him.
Kyle shot Kenny a look, the lanky boy grinning broadly as he leaned against the counter. His bright red apron matched Kyle’s; stitched with the little coffee shop’s logo and sporting a pin with his name on it.
“You look good dude,” Kenny said, eyes visibly blue even from across the room. “I’m especially a fan of the ponytail.”
“Thanks for the approval,” Kyle grinned, moving to lean against the counter next to him. The boy had gotten stupidly tall the last year of high school, gaining two or three inches on the already-tall redhead. He had to tilt his chin up to look him in the eyes.
“So,” Kenny said, in a drawling tone meant to irritate his friend, “I’m going to be your introduction to the wonderful word of coffee and baked goodies. Excited?”
Kyle raised an eyebrow and said nothing.
“I’m taking that as a really pumped up yes,” Kenny said, sunny smile crinkling his eyes. “Look around you, Kyle. Soak in the majesty.”
Alright. Kyle raised both his eyebrows and looked around. The kitchen was typical, split into the baking side and drink side. An industrial oven, lots of counterspace, a small display for cookies and pastries. A small dining room with two ceiling fans that lethargically spun over grey tables and art deco chairs, windows at the front letting in summer sun.
“Kyle,” Kenny was laughing, not even trying to mask the giggles. “Your face, dude. You’re so judgey.”
“I am not!” Kyle protested, straightening indignantly. “It’s fine. I’m here, I’m hired, I’m ready to work. Let’s get to the point already.”
The blond rolled his eyes but pushed himself away from the counter. “Alright, well, manager is out for the day so it’ll just be us opening ‘til Butters’ in. I think he comes in after you leave, you’ll have to meet him later. We open at six in the morning and close at two. You get to make your own lunch, though. That’s pretty awesome.”
This didn’t particularly sound like important information to Kyle, but he leaned back and listened to him anyhow. “Alright. What else?”
“We do all our baking and decorating here,” Kenny went to move around the baking part of the kitchen, tapping his hand over the oven, the microwave, sliding it across one of the counters. “Breakfast stuff we prep before we close, and lunch we make in the morning. Sounds counterintuitive, but otherwise we’d be swamped before a customer came in the front door.”
Kenny opened a cabinet, shoving a printed book held together with strings through binder holes at the redhead. “Recipes. They change by day, but what they are is still- like we make bagels, sandwiches, soups, and muffins every day, the flavors just change.”
“That all you make?” Kyle asked, flipping through the extensive book while trying not to let pages fall out. “And how hard it is to buy a binder for this thing?”
“Nah, man,” Kenny cheerfully began bringing bowls and a flat scale from the cabinet. “Cookies, cakes, lemon bars, cupcakes, whatever. People sometimes order stuff from us. You should see this place holiday season.”
“I’ll have to stop by,” Kyle said wryly, washing his hands in the large sink. “No dishwasher?”
“You sure are bitchy today,” Kenny noted cheerfully. “Nope. You wash everything by hand. It’ll be good for you, Mr. University Boy.”
“Excuse me, I’ve done more cooking at school than I have my entire life,” Kyle flicked water at the boy, grinning. “Don’t be judgey.”
Kenny laughed, beckoning him over. “Fine, fine, sorry. Come here, you can work on something else while I get a couple bread loaves ready to go.”
Kyle shook his head at him but leaned against Kenny regardless to take a look at the book, listening to the next directions in order to keep a bakery from burning to the ground.
--
Kyle tied his apron, pinning the tag with his name on it to the right of the logo. Kenny was carefully maneuvering his way around the back room like a cat settled on a glass shop shelf.
“Everyone’s here today,” He was saying to Kyle, own apron wrapped twice around his skinny frame and tied. “It’s just four of us. And the owner, of course, but they’re not in a lot.”
“That make for some crazy days,” Kyle commented, reaching out to offer his hand to the boy. “Why such a short staff?”
“Eh, the thought is that since we’re open for like eight hours, we don’t need a very big staff,” Kenny took his hand to step over a crate of wheat flour bags.
“That sounds stupid,” Kyle said bluntly. “Considering you have to make drinks and food by hand.”
Kenny shrugged, and was promptly hit with the door.
Kyle, luckily, was still holding his hand, making it fairly easy to keep him upright. He looked up to see the manager looking exasperated, and more than a little unhinged, but Kyle knew him well enough by now to know it was more or less his default expression always.
Tweek perched his hands on his hips, mismatched blue eyes wild as he took inventory of his newly-injured employee.
“Don’t stand in front of the door!” He scolded, tilting his head to try and get a look at Kenny’s face.
“I’m good,” The other blond said, moving to rest an arm on Kyle’s shoulder for balance. “Thanks for asking, Tweeks.”
The shorted boy huffed, taking one more look at Kenny before addressing Kyle.
“He tell you what you need to know?” He asked, blond hair pulled back like Kyle’s.
“He thinks he did,” Kyle said, earning a mock look of hurt from Kenny and a begrudging smile from Tweek.
“Drinks are the hard part,” The boy said, brows easing from their permanent furrow. “Stick to baking and cleaning if we’re busy. I’ll show you the ins and outs of drinks later.”
“Sure,” Kyle said, and the blond disappeared back through the door. He immediately glanced at Kenny, who was waiting with raised brows. He wasn’t exactly sure what to say. He glanced at the door and away before stepping closer to Kenny to talk. “What happened here?”
Kenny shrugged. “Been a few years, Ky. He’s doing pretty good. Doesn’t live at home anymore.”
“Huh.” Kyle had no idea what that meant, but he always had an idea that Kenny knew more about Tweek’s home life than the rest of the people they went to school with. “He looks a lot better.”
“Yeah,” The blond’s expression was sunny, and leaned close enough that their shoulders brushed. “He’s got a boyfriend.”
“Really?” Kyle asked, sucked into the drama despite, of course, knowing better. “What’s he like?”
“Haven’t met him,” Kenny said thoughtfully. “Apparently they had mutual friends, they met, he sounds supportive and I’ve heard he’s quiet and grouchy. Like Tweek is loud and grouchy.”
“Perfect match.” Kyle couldn’t help saying, biting off the rest of his sentence when the door swung open again, thankfully not hitting Kenny this time.
“Get moving,” Tweek was gone the moment he push the door open. “We need you out here.”
Kyle, feeling a bit stupid and out of place, was left washing dishes while Kenny flew about the kitchen along with his two other coworkers.
Huh. So that was Butters. He didn’t get a chance to talk with him for a good while, Tweek gave him a direct and enthused lecture on different drinks, he helped Kenny quickly wipe down the dining room, and only then did the third blond get an introduction.
“This is Butters!” Kenny said, draping his arm around the kid wearing a name tag that said ‘Leo.’ The boy was average height, with pale blue eyes, and Kyle couldn’t quite take his eyes off the easy way Kenny was leaning on him.
“Nice to meet you, man,” Kyle said, forcing himself to look the boy in the eyes.
“You too!” The boy just about chirped, in a grating sensation that got on Kyle’s nerves. “Ken’s talked an awful lot about you, nice to meetcha at last.”
Funny, he didn’t hear Kenny called ‘Ken’ often, even if that was what his nametag said. Kyle smiled, still holding his cleaning rag and eyes drifting back to the arm draped almost protectively over shorter shoulders.
“Butters is one of my best friends,” Kenny suddenly blurted, staring Kyle straight in the eyes. “Best pal.”
Kyle blinked. He’d known this kid for…he met him while they were still in high school, but…really? Replacing him and Stan?
“Yep, me and Leo here,” Kenny said, almost desperately. “Palling it up. Bros for life.”
“Oh…yeah…” Butters was saying, with enthusiastic confusion. “You betcha.”
“That’s…that’s nice,” Kyle wasn’t sure what else to say. This was all weird and now they were all staring at each other like morons.
Luckily a table was abandoned, leaving Kyle able to gather the dishes and escape whatever awkward corner he’d just been a part of.
In the middle of shoving silverware into the bin with a clatter, someone slammed their hands on the table next to him.
Kyle looked up at Tweek, who looked utterly embarrassed to be having this conversation.
“Look, Kyle,” Tweek’s hands were skittering slightly on the table and he drew them into fists. “It’s fine that you’re here, whatever you have is fine, but if you and Kenny start getting distracted I’m not gonna be able to work with that, okay?”
Kyle’s brows furrowed. “I’m sorry, I-”
“I’ll be perfectly clear,” Tweek still wasn’t looking him directly in the eyes and took a breath. “Idon’tcareifyouflirt with each other-”
“What?!”
“-Just don’t get weird about it.” Tweek finished over him. “Alright? You’re at work. Work.”
“I wasn’t- we are not-” Kyle’s soul was shriveling and dying. He struggled to not start shrieking like a maniac. “Kenny and I aren’t-”
“I don’t care just watchit!” Tweek smacked the table again and whirled away, stalking back to the kitchen like a tempest.
Kyle scrubbed the table with much more ferocity than was needed.
--
“I know how to make dough, Kenny,” Kyle said, the fifth time the boy leaned over his shoulder. He suspected Kenny just liked reminding him that he was tall.
“I’m not doubting you, dude, just checking.” Kenny said, resting his chin on his shoulder. “You make bagels before?”
“No,” Kyle said, weighing the bits of dough before shaping them into balls. “But I’ve made bread.”
“Bagels are different,” Kenny said, almost directly into his ear. “You gotta treat bagels delicately.”
Kyle didn’t quite have the heart to elbow him off, though he scoffed at the instructions. “You know, I can ask Tweek if I have trouble…”
“Nah, man, no one knows how to handle balls like me,” Kenny said, with an absolute straight face. Waiting. If Kyle had any kind of real smarts he’d keep his reaction to himself before he encouraged this behavior even more.
Kyle choked.
“Don’t you dare start,” He warned, gently nudging him away instead of the elbow he deserved. “I’ll kick your ass.”
“I’ll report you for violence,” Kenny said, reaching to help Kyle shape the dough.
“I’ll report you for harassment,” Kyle retorted, tempted to smack his hand away. “Leave my dough alone.”
“What, you’re saying you want me to stop touching your-” Kenny yelped as a wet dish towel was slapped squarely on his neck, a giggling Butters the perpetrator of such an act.
Kyle fought off a stab of annoyance, forcibly shaping doughballs into bagel-shaped bagels. Kenny was trying to whip the towel at the other blond, who was threatening him with a dirty ladle.
“Guys!” Tweek didn’t swear at work unless the doors were closed, but the look he was giving all three boys was just as vicious as whatever words he was probably wanting to say. “I’ll come over there.”
“We’re slow,” Kenny grumbled, far too quietly to be heard, and Butters snorted as he went back to scrubbing dishes. Kenny went back to helping Kyle create bagels.
Now this was the part of the job Kyle could really get behind. No one currently ordering, the soft hum of the ceiling fans, soft roar of the oven, a smell of cinnamon and Kenny’s weight gently against his side. People were chattering softly out in the dining room and Butters was humming as he dried the dishes.
Maybe he should bring a Bluetooth speaker into work. The radio died on them months before Kyle was hired and it might be nice to listen to music. Though, then they’d all be fighting over what to listen to.
He was definitely bringing in his speaker.
Kyle leaned against Kenny, letting the taller boy almost fully support his weight. Kenny didn’t complain, smiling to himself without even a comment.
The bell chimed, and Butters chirped his typical cheery greeting only halfway through before his voice died.
Kyle and Kenny turned as one, seeing the blond turn around and go back to frantically cluttering around the sink in order to look busy.
Kyle whirled towards the door, smacking Kenny in the shoulder for attention. An old friend was approaching the counter, noticing the attention and looking pleased with it.
“Hey guys,” Cartman rested his hands on the countertop, looking utterly gleeful. “Look who’s here!”
Tweek twitched, so violently that for a second Kyle thought he was about to backhand the guy.
“Hi,” He said, teeth grit. “What do you want?”
Kyle saw red, not even immediately noticing the bell chime again, and someone much more pleasant walkeing through the door.
“Stan!” Kenny crowed, abandoning his bagels altogether.
“Hey!” The black-haired boy grinning, eyes tired but smile sunny. “Dude, it’s been forever!”
Kyle leaned against the counter, taking the moment to breathe deep and not look at Cartman. He’d seen Stan when he first got to the city, but he’d heard he and Kenny hadn’t met up but a couple times since they graduated high school.
Kyle’s eyes flicked to the other newcomer, who was watching Stan talk to Kenny. Butters had disappeared.
“Yeah, it’s just a big reunion in here, huh guys?” He interrupted whatever the two were talking about, clearly wanting the spotlight back. “What’re you doing here, Kal? Drop out of school?”
Kenny kicked Kyle’s ankle, Stan was shaking his head slightly, but Kyle was not, not ever, going to back down from a challenge from Eric Cartman.
“I’ve got a degree already, actually,” Kyle said, lifting his chin. “I have like three more years until I have what I want to work.”
Kenny straightened, surprised, Stan still shaking his head at him in disappointment.
“And you’re working here?” Cartman asked derisively, clearly enjoying Kyle’s irritation. “Serving coffee instead of interning or working in a courtroom or sucking professor dick?”
“Hey now,” Kenny finally spoke, a cool edge to his light voice that Kyle was unfamiliar with.
Kyle glanced away a moment to see Kenny setting his jaw, going from cheerful to warning in an instant. Not that he needed any help.
“What have you been doing?” Kyle challenged, trying to move further down the counter but Kenny had grabbed his apron strings. “Do you actually have anything to say or are you just going to try and be funny or some shit?”
“Kyle, goget more oats,” Tweek interrupted them all with a slammed fist on the counter. His hands were spazzing over the countertop. “Please. Go.”
Cartman smirked. They hadn’t even gotten started, he’d barely said anything and Kyle hadn’t had time to respond.
He coolly turned and walked into the back, hearing the voices behind him murmuring low enough that he wouldn’t be able to hear. They didn’t need fucking oats. But Kyle would be damned if Cartman was going to giggle over him having a hissy fit at work.
Butters was in the back, sitting in a corner with his head in his hands. He jerked when Kyle swung the door open and stormed in, standing and staring at the kid as he sat, lodged between empty crates and a recycling bin.
They stared at each other, and the door swung behind Kyle.
He reacted in an instant, leaping forward to not get caught with the door. A good idea, but a bad strategy when there was almost no footroom anywhere around.
Kyle hit the bags of rice flour chest-first, scrambling up to sit with a new dusting of white on his red apron.
Kenny looked amused, but actually didn’t comment.
“He’s gone,” He said instead, looking between the two boys. Both of them sighed, for different reasons.
Kyle raised an eyebrow at Butters, who colored darkly.
“I…Eric and me, um…” Kyle was getting the gist of it, just from the way the kid was stammering.
“We’ll get you a new boyfriend,” Kenny interrupted, cheerily stepping over everything to offer the boy a hand. “Someone I didn’t go to school with, preferably. You said you liked brunets, there’s this cute dude at the shop who-”
“I’m going back to work, Kenny!” Butters nearly toppled the skinny blond over in his rush to get away, face flaming.
Kenny was grinning. He turned, smile manic as, instead of offering Kyle a hand, he moved to sit on the opposite end of the bag Kyle was perched on, straddling it like a cowboy.
Kyle scowled, waiting. Kenny said nothing, knees touching Kyle’s, staring him in the eyes.
“Dude, you gotta grow the fuck up,” Kenny said genuinely, noticing Kyle was about to speak and interrupting him. “Also, you didn’t tell me you had a degree.”
He was diverting the topic, but Kyle went along with it begrudgingly. He knew that would come up eventually.
“Yeah.” He said, tightening the elastic in his hair. “Just a bachelor’s.”
Kenny gave him a look. “Kyle-”
“I’m not going to be a lawyer,” Kyle admitted. “I’ve got an idea, I was just waiting until I was sure what I wanted to do.”
He could see Kenny wasn’t getting it, and he was starting to feel dumber by the second.
“Any time you tell someone you have a degree in something, their next question is always ‘what are you doing with it?’” Kyle said disgustedly. “I don’t fucking know. I don’t have any fucking idea.”
Kenny’s smile was soft. “I won’t ask. How’s school going?”
What? Kyle’s laugh was instinctual, surprised. “Uh, good. Got my bachelor’s.”
Kenny held up a hand, grasping Kyle’s hand and squeezing briefly after the redhead high fived him.
“Way to go, man,” He said, blue eyes bright even in the dim lightning of the back.
“Thanks,” Kyle didn’t take back his hand, and Kenny hadn’t even moved.
“Hey,” Tweek was already in the room, meaning he’d walked right in and Kyle hadn’t even noticed. “Stop flirting and get back to work. Lunch crowd is filing in.”
Kyle whipped his hand away as Kenny turned to make a face at the other blond, who already had his back to them.
For fuck’s sake. Kyle stood, grouchily making his way over to the door when Kenny suddenly piped up.
“Hey,” He said, and the Jewish boy turned to see Kenny still sitting thoughtfully in the same place. “What brought you back to Colorado?”
Here was another question, with too many answers to even begin. He took a breath, answering a bit more honestly than he would have with almost anyone else.
“A lot of things,” He admitted. “Kind of related to the question I don’t want to answer.”
Kenny nodded, slowly, as if he understood. He watched Kyle, as if waiting for something else. The redhead didn’t give him anything, and instead slipped back into the kitchen.
--
Kyle was cussing out a whipped cream can a couple weeks later, much to the amusement of Butters, who was trying very hard not to laugh and failing. Needless to say, his drink practice was not going well. The whole situation leading to Kyle throwing the damn thing into the trash can across the kitchen when Kenny burst in through the door, strings not even tied and hastily pinning on his new ‘assistant manager’ badge crookedly onto the fabric.
“Guys!” He said, checking briefly over his shoulder. “You know how Tweek’s like, super secretive about his boyfriend?”
“Yeah?” Butters was already sucked in, watching as Kenny stalked past them with intensity.
“I totally just found out that this guy and me have a mutual friend,” Kenny said, and Kyle finally couldn’t take it. He took off Kenny’s pin and straightened it.
“Really?” Butters was an excellent audience, chirping up in all the right places. “How’dja find that out?”
“Turns out Clyde’s best pals with this guy,” Kenny said, not even paying attention to Kyle’s fussing or his perfectly straight pin afterwards. Kyle went back to his drink mixing. “He mentioned Tweek by name yesterday, I literally ran across the floor to grab him before he left work and asked.”
“Clyde?” Butters’ brows furrowed. “Is he the same Clyde you were dating?”
Kyle paused in the midst of setting aside his newly-made coffee. He was now wholly paying attention.
Kenny had frozen. “No!” He said, eyes fixating on Kyle and widening. “I mean…”
“Oh, you’re right, you didn’t date a Clyde, my bad,” Butters blurted, in the middle of doing a hard reverse.
“I mean I kissed the guy a couple times, but that was- that was literally the extent of it,” Kenny was actually turning red. Kyle couldn’t remember the last time he saw Kenny blush, if he’d ever noticed before at all. “We’re buddies now. All is cool. He was going through a sexuality crisis and I was around, and it wasn’t great and it was a couple smooches. Yup.”
The word vomit was so uncharacteristic that Kyle had to swallow a nervous laugh. Butters was having a conniption.
“So Craig’s coming in,” Kenny said desperately. “With…with Clyde, to say hi to Tweek, he’s never been to the place but Craig has and apparently we just never knew who he was.”
“Gosh, sounds great!” Butters’ enthusiasm was way too high to be casual.
“So get to looking like we actually do shit around here before Tweek shows up,” Kenny said, rushing past them both to escape to the baking area. His cheeks were visibly red.
Kyle was standing, holding a whipped cream container like a fucking moron, staring after Kenny in a heavy enough daze that Butters had to cough and nudge his shoulder to get him out of it.
They went back to learning drinks, Tweek whirled in as normal with nobody saying a word. He regarded them suspiciously, but likely was too appreciative of them actually working to say anything.
Butters was packing up to leave when Kenny straightened suddenly and drawled out a greeting.
“What’s up, man?” He said, and his three other coworkers turned with horror movie precision.
The kid Kyle noticed first was the tall one. He had a few inches on him, and even a couple on Kenny, and the most intense of resting bitchfaces that Kyle had ever come across. His eyes looked colorless, fixated and purposeful as he scanned the employees carelessly.
He was also skinny as a fucking beanpole, which made him less than intimidating, wearing a baggy tshirt that had speckles of stars printed on it with something about voids and stars written in white.
His attention was drawn to the shorter one, who was greeting Kenny with a bright grin. Mussed brown hair, bubbly, the kid was shorter than Tweek, probably no taller than 5’4 and immediately grating Kyle the wrong way.
He inspected him closely, jeans with the knees nearly worn out, a red jacket over a pale blue shirt, and dark blue eyes. He was chattering to Kenny about something that Kyle only heard the last bit for.
“-Craig, which I don’t know if you’ve met him yet, this is Kenny, he works with me-”
So the taller one was Craig. Tweek was at the cash register, checking someone out, stabbing the keyboard so violently he was apt to send a numbers flying across the room any minute.
“Thanks for stopping in!” He said, taking the coffee from Kyle and handing it off with a shaking hand.
“Tweek!” Kenny said, blue eyes wild. Kyle finally understood why he’d been waiting for this. “Is this your guy?”
He could see Tweek’s dilemma. It wasn’t like he could deny it now.
“Mmngh.” He wasn’t sure if that was a noise of frustration or if the manager was just cursing Kenny out under his breath, but he was turning scarlet.
Craig approached the counter, harsh lines of his face visibly softening. “Hey Tweek.”
Kyle found his voice annoying, nasally and deep, but Tweek was visibly flustered.
“Hi,” He said, unable to even look him in the eyes. Kyle saw him check today’s quota and refresh it about thirty times in the span of a minute, as if trying to look busy. “What did you need?”
Kenny wasn’t done. He surged ahead, extending his hand.
“Hey, man,” He said, expression filled with something like vengeance. “Nice to finally meet you. Tweek talks about you all the time.”
Said guy was giving Kenny some serious ‘shut the fuck up’ vibes, but Craig simply ignored his hand, shooting a glance at Tweek. “Sure. Nice to meet you.”
“Yeah,” Kenny didn’t get any farther. Whatever great plan he had concocted fell flat.
“Kenny, in the back!” Tweek finally snapped, covering his cheeks with his hands.
“I’m grounded?” Kenny obediently left the kitchen. “Nice to see you, Craig, you should come by more-”
“Back!” Tweek whirled on a giggling Butters next. “Go help him!”
Kyle shook his head. Kenny should have let him in on this. He could have come up with something better, and much more embarrassing. He settled his gaze on Craig’s shorter companion.
“Hey,” The kid greeted when he saw Kyle staring.
Kyle nodded, and left for the back on his own accord.
Whatever the fuck happened in the span of seven seconds, Butters was currently stuck in an empty bin, having clearly tried to sit on the lid and fallen through, and Kenny was laughing himself silly rather than helping.
Kyle sent him a look and pulled the boy to his feet, having to choke on laughter himself when the bin came with him.
“My plan ruined,” Kenny noted once he’d calmed down, peering through the window in the door. “At least we got to see him, though.”
“You said Tweek said he was cute,” Butters recalled, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. “He is super tall.”
Kyle still couldn’t stop running the shorter kid through his mind. “Not my type, personally.”
“No?” Kyle realized his mistake when Kenny turned, a smirk curving his lips. “What’s your type, Kyle? I actually don’t know this.”
Fuck. Butters was watching him interestedly at this point, too.
“I-” Kyle scrambled for something to say. “I’m not into dark-haired guys.”
“Nah?” Kenny raised his eyebrows. “So you’re into fair hair?”
Kyle didn’t know what to say to that, making a weird shrug his response instead.
“Dark eyes or light?” Kenny asked, sitting down on the edge of the Box Tower.
“Light,” Kyle said, suddenly feeling like he’d dug his own grave.
“So like…Butters,” Kenny made a fanfare gesture in the giggling boy’s direction. “He’s blond. He’s got some pretty and light eyes. And he’s super available, right man?”
“Yup!” Butters was covering his lips, as if Kyle couldn’t see him giggling through his fingertips.
“No,” Kyle said immediately, realizing a little late that it sounded extremely rude. “I mean…it’s not…”
“Tweek’s not available, clearly, but he’s a blond, blue-eyed babe, too,” Kenny noted, eyes sparking as he moved to push Kyle over the edge.
“Taller than that,” Kyle stammered, Butters was nearly smothering himself at this point. “Taller than both of them.”
“Huh.” Kenny rested an ankle over knee, tapping his chin. “Hmm. Blond, light eyes. Taller than Tweek and Leo. Hmmm.”
“Oh my god,” Kyle said, rubbing his temples. “Go back to bad innuendos, Kenny, please.”
“I think this is an innuendo, technically,” Kenny said, and Kyle wrote him up as a lost cause.
He shoved past him, face hot, and definitely not missing the genuinely affectionate smile crossing Kenny’s face.
--
“Kyle,” Kenny said, on the single hottest fucking day Kyle was certain he’d ever experienced, “Can you make me a bagel?”
Kyle scraped the icing off the cookie he was decorating. “What?”
“Can you make me a tuna melt bagel?” Kenny asked from the drink station. “Please?”
Kyle had only a dozen cookies left to dip and let dry before drizzling, and intended to finish them before fixing probably two bagels. He hid a smile, making sure he was facing away from Kenny.
“Why?” He asked, carefully scraping the next cookie along the side of the container of chocolate. “I don’t remember being made your little servant-wife.”
Tweek rolled his eyes from the dining room, sweeping the floor with needless vigor.
“No?” Kyle heard the amused curl to Kenny’s voice. “I’m so sorry! Kyle, dearest, my darling-”
Alright, he had to look at him, and Kenny was on one knee, one hand over his heart.
“Will you marry me, Kyle?” Kenny asked, blue eyes soft, and Kyle had to turn back around.
His cookie slipped through his fingers into the tub of chocolate, and he was shaky in getting it back out.
“Well that’s sudden,” Kyle scoffed, hoping he sounded calmer than he felt. “We haven’t even talked about a wedding yet.”
He heard Kenny shift, and it sounded like he stood back up.
“This is true,” The boy admitted thoughtfully. “Don’t know how I overlooked that.”
He didn’t sound happy. Kyle’s brows furrowed. He snuck a look over his shoulder, and Kenny was back to cleaning the drink area, not frowning, exactly, but…
He’d meant to encourage that, not scare him off, goddamn it. He took a breath.
“For one,” Kyle said, turning back to the trays of desserts, “We’d have to have a Jewish wedding. My mother would insist.”
There was quiet for a moment, the soft clunks and slithers of someone cleaning, and then Kenny was back in the conversation.
“I could deal with that,” He said, voice light. “But then I get to choose the wedding colors.”
“Oh yeah?” Kyle said, taking his time with the decorating. “I think that depends on how much your taste sucks.”
“Excuse me?” Kenny was offended. “Orange, my dude. It’s nostalgic.”
“Absolutely not,” Kyle argued, dunking another cookie gracelessly. “I am not having a wedding where all our friends look like escaped convicts.”
“Knowing our friends, it wouldn’t be too far off,” Kenny quipped, immediately following it with a defense. “And a pale orange, Kyle. Pale orange, creams, maybe a soft green in there.”
“I’d have to physically see it,” Kyle said wryly, picturing a clusterfuck of color. And Kenny being married in his old ratty parka.
“I’ll bring you color swatches,” Kenny promised, and Kyle was almost certain he was going to bring some from work the next time they had a shift together.
He swallowed down laughter, unable to stop a snort. “What am I wearing, then? Can I still wear black or will it look shitty with your fucked-up colors?”
“Nah, nah, dude, you’ll look hot,” Kenny promised. “A dark, tailored suit, with a light orange tie? Sexy, man. That is sexy.”
“I’m a redhead,” Kyle reminded him. “I can’t fucking wear orange.”
“You’ll be able to wear my colors,” Kenny promised. “I’d only ever choose colors to enhance your dashing looks, dearest.”
“What a thoughtful husband you are,” Kyle said flatly, swearing he heard Kenny squeak. “What about I wear green and the groomsmen wear orange?”
“Oooh, I do like that,” Kenny said, almost to himself, before calling out to the dining room. “Hey, Tweek! Would you be one of our groomsmen?”
“Absolutely not,” was the answer, but Kenny charged ahead undaunted.
“Who’s Stan best man for?” He asked, cheerfully. “Me or you?”
“Both,” Kyle said, “Obviously. Unless you want to have Butters for yours.”
“Possibly,” Kenny said thoughtfully. “I have to think about it more.”
Kyle smiled, carefully arranging already-placed cookies. “And what are you planning on donning? The wedding dress?”
“If that’s what you want,” Kenny’s voice took on a teasing tone. “But I was thinking of a suit, too. But I do want a veil. A long one.”
“Cute,” Kyle said, without even thinking first. He shot a quick glance at Kenny, who was folding and unfolding his washcloth, biting his lip.
Kyle took him in, the tall, blond boy, with tan lines on his arms and sunlight caught in his hair. A thin, lean frame, filled out with his age and better health, a small smile tugging at his lips. The blinds illuminated just him, bars of gold enhancing everything he was.
“We gotta break glasses and walk circles ‘round each other, too?” Kenny asked, probably trying to erase the awkward silence while Kyle ogled him.
“Huh?” Kyle was snapped out of his reverie.
“Y’know,” Kenny looked over and looked surprised to see Kyle looking at him, though he laughed it off quickly. “Like holding the wedded couple up on chairs and stuff. You said your mom wanted a Jewish wedding, right?”
Kyle was only half paying attention. There was one question he got from that sentence that was blinding him to anything else.
“When did you look up Jewish wedding traditions?” He asked, and Tweek made a strangled noise as he tried not to laugh.
Kenny froze, red flooding his face, and Tweek was utterly losing it.
Butters walked in, apron draped over his arm, staring at everyone in turn.
“What’s goin’ on?” He asked, warily, and Tweek was the person who answered this time, utterly smug as Kenny’s reckoning came crashing down on him.
“Kenny’s been looking up Jewish weddings,” He informed the other blond, who’s grin damn near eclipsed the sun.
“Oooooh,” He said, like a schoolchild, and Kyle couldn’t help but laugh at the juvenile teasing.
Kenny, however, was about ready to explode.
“I’m taking out the garbage!” He informed the nearby vicinity, and nearly toppled the damn can trying to escape.
Kyle watched him go, greenish eyes glittering in satisfaction.
“I’ll make you a bagel!” He called after him, and Tweek snorted.
--
They didn’t often close together.
To be honest, Kyle was just glad Tweek even let them work together anymore. The shifts with Kenny were, by far, the greatest part of his day. Whoever said not to work with friends was lying, because Kyle was sure he hadn’t enjoyed his days this much in a long time.
Job still bitched sometimes, but Kenny was good company for those days. Or any days, really.
The blond sang loudly as they cleaned, making sure to direct any and all soppy love lyrics in Kyle’s direction, or else whistling softly to himself.
Kyle just worked, with the same quandary as every other work day preying on him.
Yes or no. Yes or no. Yes or no.
Now or never.
They locked everything down, clocked out, and Kyle finally made up his mind.
He stared at Kenny’s back, brows furrowed, and when Kenny went to unlock his door and bid Kyle goodbye, he found the kid standing right behind him.
Kyle stood, with his arms crossed, not meeting his eyes. Thinking.
“Yes?” Kenny asked, leaning against his car door. The car he’d actually bought, along with sending his sister to college and living on his own.
Honestly. Out of them all, Kenny ended out on top. Kyle wasn't sure if he should even be surprised or not. They were all assholes, Kenny probably the least, and then Stan.
Wondering who took the top tier of assholery was not going to help, and Kyle lifted his chin.
“Do you have…any idea…how incredible you are?” He finally asked him.
Kenny was staring at him, floored. “…No?” He answered, bewildered.
“Look,” Kyle made a strange, waggling hand motion, like he was casting a spell on Kenny. “You’re an incredibly successful, intelligent person, you’ve sent your sister to school, you’ve got a car, a home-”
“-An apartment, in which I eat ramen every day,” Kenny interrupted, though he was flushing pink.
“Multi-talented, kind-hearted-” Kyle tried to talk over him and struggled. “Goddamn it…”
Kenny was waiting, eyes large, interested.
“Look, there is never going to be a good place or a good time for this,” Kyle said, finally. “I’ve been looking for one. It’s just not going to happen.”
Kenny was frozen, but quickly reanimated, leaning into Kyle’s space and gesturing around.
“Here and now’s pretty good,” He said, arms including the empty parking lot behind the building, the soaking wet newspapers stuck to the asphalt, and a dumpster twenty feet away. “What’s on your mind, Kyle?”
“Kenny, I don’t even know how to word it,” Kyle said, dragging a hand through the hair he forgot he still had up. He yanked the ponytail out, not caring how stupid it might look. “I’ve tried to come up with something that didn’t suck and I just can’t do it.”
“I don’t mind if you suck,” Kenny immediately protested, and the spasm of a smile he gave afterwards hinted that he wanted to make a joke about it and was declining on Kyle’s behalf. Thoughtful, for Kenny. “Just go for it, man. No judgment.”
“There’s a lot of things that brought me back to Colorado,” Kyle said, going for it all. “Not in least was the fact I missed you.”
Kenny looked surprised, the look melting into something dangerously soft. “Aw, Kyle,” he said, opening his arms as if to hug him, and Kyle pushed a hand against his chest to keep him away.
He was certain he was right. Sometimes, having someone this close to you could confuse things, but Kyle was absolutely sure in this case that he was not reading things wrong. Particularly with how Kenny’s heart raced under his fingertips.
“The way I look at you has changed,” Kyle told him, all honesty and emotion, meeting his eyes unwaveringly. Kenny swallowed. “The way I feel about you has changed. And I could go on forever on why, and how, and who you are to me-”
“You don’t have to,” Kenny interrupted him gently, resting one of his own hands over Kyle’s. His eyes were radiant. “I get you, man.”
He got it. Despite his assurances, Kyle found himself exhaling shakily. “Good. So you’re okay with that?”
Kenny’s face split into a grin, and he took Kyle’s face in his hands and kissed him, solidly, smiling against his lips.
Kyle barely had time to breathe before he was wrapped in a hug, managing to wrap his own arms around Kenny’s waist as he kissed him, finally, relief flooding his ice-cold veins with warmth.
Kenny was glowing when Kyle pulled back, smile luminous. “I missed you so much,” Kenny admitted. “Phones don’t bridge all gaps, Kyle. I’ve missed you like crazy.”
Kyle licked his lips, about to speak when Kenny kissed him again, softer, asking, and he finally just lost himself against the other boy.
Kenny’s hands tangled in his curls, Kyle pulled him against him, and the blond wrapped his arms around his neck and kissed him like he was starved for him.
He had been. For Kenny, that is. He was. He hadn’t expected the gap that Kenny’s absence would leave, and he was damned if he was going to let there be any space left between them.
“Did you ask to work with me to ask me out?” Kenny murmured against his lips, nuzzling kisses against him.
“Not so much at first,” Kyle admitted, kissing his cheek. “I just wanted to…I don’t know. Be around you. In general.”
Kenny’s smile was so soft that it physically hurt. Kyle smiled as well, unable to help it.
“Feel like pizza tonight?” He asked, eyes fixated on him. “We can stay in and chat. I don’t live far.”
“Hell yes,” Kenny said, leaning in to kiss his lips, cheek, forehead. He was damn near giddy, and Kyle was too. “Oh my god, dude, yes.”
He hadn’t been mistaken after all. Kyle couldn’t wipe the smile off his face. Hard to miss the hints they’d been throwing at each other, sure, but you never knew.
He and Kenny spent some time curled up on a couch, for the first time in years. It was made a constant routine in their lives fairly quickly, along with mutual shifts at the tiny little coffee shop.