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Jimbo never really thought much on his and Ned’s relationship. Both men had been through a lot of shit together from the Vietnam War to the crazy occurrences the town of South Park had to offer. They both enjoyed each other’s company and rarely argued - and when they did, they were quick to apologize. Wherever one of them went, the other was bound to be by their side. It was a rare occurrence not to see one without the other - hell, people would always ask about where the other went, as if it were some big deal. Their drinking buddies often teased them for how close they were, but Jimbo tried not to let it bother him too much - they were best buddies, nothing lovey-dovey going on between them whatsoever. Or so he thought, until they got drunk one night and he kissed the bastard.
It was a chilly evening when Jimbo’s world turned upside down. With a newly lit fire burning in the fireplace, he slouched against the couch as he lazily flipped through the channels. After a long trek home from a hunting trip cut short by a snowstorm, both men were exhausted. Too lazy to clean themselves, they threw on some comfy clothes and agreed on watching some TV before going to bed. Ned peered through the opening that led to the kitchen, wearing nothing but a red robe and skimpy zebra briefs. Jimbo had seen him in the buff many times before, but something about his friend made his stomach jump. Jimbo cursed the blazing fire several feet away as his cheeks grew hot. Ned brought his voice box up to his throat and pressed the button.
“You want a beer?”
It was rather late for alcohol, but Jimbo’s back was killing him - and since when did he ever turn down a beer? Soon Ned returned with a beer in his hand and another in the crook of his arm. Jimbo gratefully took one as Ned plopped down next to him, the glass cold and wet in his hand. He took a large gulp, enjoying the familiar crisp taste as the liquid washed down his throat. After some more flipping, the two men settled on a channel in the middle of a Terminator marathon and continued drinking their beers in a comfortable silence. It wasn’t long before Jimbo swallowed the last remnants of liquid in the bottle, so he had another… and then another. He wasn’t the type to admit when enough was enough and stop drinking - he was the complete opposite. But he didn’t see much harm in having a few more drinks - he didn’t need to worry about driving home.
It wasn’t long before the room began to sway, jokes became ten times funnier, and Jimbo felt on the brink of passing out - not that he could get up to go to bed, he’d probably fall over. He glanced at Ned, who wasn’t wearing his signature shades in the dark of the living room, revealing his chocolate brown eyes. The skin underneath his tired eyes sagged; he looked as if he would pass out at any moment. It was only then that Jimbo realized how close he and Ned were, their knees barely brushing against one another. Had they always been that close? Jimbo decided not to dwell on it; they were so comfortable in each other’s presence that they often forgot they were even sharing the couch.
Jimbo’s whole body stiffened as he felt the other man lean against him, resting his head on his shoulder. His head snapped to Ned, his brown hair tickling the larger man’s cheek. Even in his drunken state, Jimbo was shitting bricks. This had never happened before - did Ned even know what he was doing, or was he too tired to care? Jimbo’s first instinct would’ve been to push his friend off - men weren’t supposed to be close like this. But it’s as they say: being drunk lets people’s true feelings be free. Though he would never admit it, he liked the feeling of Ned’s head in the crook of his shoulder - no matter how wrong it was. Before he could stop himself, he ran a hand through Ned’s messy hair, taking the graying strands between his fingers. His hand froze as Ned shifted, looking up at him. Both men stayed that way, the many explosions and gunshots booming from the TV being the only sounds breaking the silence.
Jimbo’s cheeks burned as he realized how close Ned was to him, their faces only inches away from each other. Neither of them moved, despite being capable of doing so. Jimbo didn’t want to move - and maybe, just maybe, Ned didn’t want to either. His eyes drifted down towards Ned’s slightly parted lips. Without thinking, Jimbo closed his eyes and placed his lips on his - or he attempted to, only for his lips to land on the corner of Ned’s mouth. He hadn’t kissed another human being in years; and the fact that he was wasted didn’t contribute much.
Ned’s eyes were as wide as saucers as he stared at the larger man. Jimbo couldn’t help but giggle, too intoxicated to really care how the other man reacted. Ned’s expression softened as he placed his only hand on the larger man’s cheek, causing Jimbo’s heart to pound so hard he worried it might give out. It was his turn to be surprised as Ned pulled him into a soft, gentle kiss. Whether or not Ned really meant it was a mystery to Jimbo, all he could do was close his eyes as he enjoyed the warmth of Ned’s lips against his. Ned’s mustache scratched his upper lip, and his breath smelled sweet from the beer. It should’ve felt wrong, but God it just felt so right - as if this was what Jimbo was meant to do his whole life.
Jimbo woke up in his bed at a quarter to twelve in the morning with a splitting headache. The previous night remained a blur in his memories. The pieces started coming together as he recalled the hunting trip, the beers, the kiss - oh shit, the kiss. His face grew beet red as he hid it under his pillow with a groan. What the hell was he thinking?! As he laid on his back and stared up at the ceiling, an idea came to mind that made his stomach drop: he was in love with Ned. He violently shook his head, disgusted with himself for even thinking up the thought. His breathing quickened as question after question coursed through his mind like a raging river of confusion. He tried calming himself by listing everything against the idea, but no matter how much he argued against it, he couldn’t help but realize how right it sounded. The butterflies that flew in his stomach whenever Ned entered the room, the way his cheeks burned when he caught himself staring at him for too long, the strange anger he felt whenever Ned seemed close with someone else.
It all made sense so quickly it was scary. But God, it was so wrong. And because he couldn’t control himself, he probably just lost the only true friend he ever had. The thought alone brought tears to his eyes - he cursed himself for being such an emotional pansy. With a sigh, he sat up, the mattress groaning under his weight. Throwing his usual outfit on, he went to find Ned.
Ned was in the kitchen, sitting at the table with a steaming cup of coffee in his hand. His shades were on, hiding the eyes Jimbo tended to get lost in. Jimbo froze, unsure of what to do or say.
“Hey,” he muttered.
Ned’s expression remained indifferent as he turned to face the other man, greeting him with a curt nod. He was capable of using his voice box, which was sitting inches away from him on the table. Jimbo’s stomach dropped - Ned was mad at him. Why did he ever think that Ned would feel the same for him? He had an ex-wife, and he even masturbated upon seeing Mrs. Tenorman’s breasts (bless her soul). But even with all that evidence against it, Jimbo still hoped for the possibility that maybe his friend was like him. He scratched the back of his neck, having a staring contest with the tiled floor rather than looking at Ned.
“About last night,” he said, struggling to find an explanation. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what was wrong with me, I guess I had too much to drink,” He nervously chuckled. “I ain’t actually like… that, y’know?”
Ned only responded with a shrug.
“This doesn’t change anything between us, right? We’re still friends?”
Ned nodded, to which Jimbo should’ve felt relieved, but something still didn’t feel right.
“Are ya mad?”
Ned shrugged once again. Jimbo felt himself growing frustrated from the lack of clear answers, which only made his head ache more.
“God damnit, Ned! Can’t you see I’m trying to fix things here? We kissed, so what? Everybody’s a little gay - some more than others, but so what?!” At that moment, Jimbo didn’t care how Ned reacted, only wishing that he would respond. “I really meant it, y’know. I know it’s wrong, but I can’t help it, no matter how hard I try,” His eyes stung with tears he refused to set free. “I'd been feeling that way for months and it's driving me insane! I feel like I can't even look at ya without feeling weird. I didn’t want to ruin our friendship, but I probably just did. I don’t blame ya if you’re mad at me. I’m mad at myself for being such an old, lonely fag,” he said, growling out the horrible slur loud and clear as the tears finally escaped their prison. “If ya don’t want to be friends anymore, I get it. I understand if you want to leave, too.”
Jimbo turned to leave, only to freeze in his tracks as he felt a hand grab his. Silent as a mouse, Ned reached for the collar of Jimbo’s shirt and tugged him closer for a kiss. Shock crossed Jimbo’s face as his eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets. He felt the urge to pull away and pinch himself to make sure this wasn’t some pathetic dream, only for his eyes to soon close as he fell head over heels into the familiar warmth of Ned’s lips. They stayed that way for what felt like forever but at the same time not long enough. Ned was the one to pull back, bringing his voice box to his throat.
“I thought I was the only one. I was upset because I didn’t think you meant it.”
That was all it took for Jimbo to start kissing Ned again. What were originally tears of sadness became tears of joy as he held the smaller man close to him. Ned hid his face against Jimbo's chest.
“I’m sorry,” he said, regret clear even in his robotic voice.
“The hell are you apologizing for?”
“If I had known I would’ve said something sooner,”
“Well, you said it now. That’s all that matters. Now shut up and kiss me.”
A small smile crept onto Ned’s face, and the two leaned in for another kiss. Knowing that Ned reciprocated his feelings was all it took for Jimbo’s anxieties to melt away. He coudln't accept himself for who he was, at least not yet, but that didn’t matter at the moment. Nothing did as they stood in the middle of the kitchen in their cozy cabin, offering their pent-up affection to one another without worrying over how others reacted.