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Tonight was one of the few nights that South Park was relatively calm. No meth labs, no assault in the alleyways, no crimes the police couldn’t handle, incompetent as they were. It was one of those rare moments where Mysterion could just sit and relax.
With a sigh, he pulled out a cigarette and his lighter from the hidden pockets within his costume, watching the small object illuminate the rooftop. He didn’t usually smoke, too many concerned complaints from Karen to do it around her, but he figured tonight was a good night. It made him feel cool, not really in the way that you’d usually feel when smoking, but like those aesthetic pictures, the kind you’d find on social media.
“Mind if I sit?”
He almost choked on the puff of smoke when he saw the figure behind him. Damn it, he let his guard down.
“Who are you?” The cloaked boy asked, the lit end of his cigarette barely being able to be called a flame. The mystery person stood tall in the shadows, taller than him at least, but that didn’t really solve anything. He could make out reflections of metal against the city lights, probably another superhero. Maybe Toolshed, he thought, he couldn’t quite recognize the blue eyes in the dark.
The person stepped out into the light. Mysterion’s breathing hitched, his hands subconsciously balling into fists. His cig was on the ground now, the little thing barely being put to use— what a waste, he thought, his attention going back to the other in front of him: Professor Chaos.
“You can let your guard down. I’m not here to fight,” the other blonde mumbled, faint bruises littering his skin. Mysterion noticed, but kept quiet; they hadn’t fought in weeks. Those bruises weren’t his. Not to mention, he wasn’t as pumped up as he usually was, either; must be a home issue. Kenny would know all about home issues to that effect. Mysterion wouldn’t.
“What are you here for, then?” He growled, stepping further away out of caution. Even if this was a trick, Mysterion had always been stronger physically than Chaos, probably more so now than usual. “This isn’t your usual style. Off night?”
Chaos hesitated, then nodded. “I’m not going to work tonight,” he mumbled, “just getting fresh air. I don’t really wanna fight you.” He sat on the ledge Mysterion was previously perched on, his gaze drifting off to the busy city below them.
Mysterion blinked, cautiously taking a seat next to him. When nothing happened, he pulled out another cigarette. Might as well actually use this one this time.
“Did something, uh…happen?” Mysterion asked, the added gruff to his voice feeling weird at the moment. It was entirely a secret identity thing, and he knew Chaos did it, too, though he didn’t need to. There weren’t many people in South Park with purple eyes and blonde hair, in fact, he was pretty sure it was just him. Ironically he hated using contacts, he hated the feeling of putting them in, so he settled for straining his vocal cords and assumed Chaos was an idiot.
“Yer, uh…how old?” Chaos asked, his voice barely above a whisper. His knuckles instinctively rubbed together, the far-off look in his eyes somehow looking farther as his attention strayed both to and away from Mysterion.
The superhero hesitated. “Still barely considered a minor. Why does that matter?”
Chaos shook his head. “I am, too. It, uh…” he took a deep breath. “I don’t really have a good home life n’ all. Normally it doesn’t bother me, I take out my frustrations against my parents when I’m moonlightin’, y’know?” He waited for Mysterion’s reply, which came almost too quickly. “B-But, tonight…sorry, I can’t even think about it without gettin’ real angry…”
Mysterion shook his head. “Take your time. We’ve got all night.”
“My dad’s always been pretty abusive, ever since I was just a little kid. He’d, y’know, hit me whenever he’d get really mad and yell at me for the most useless things…but tonight? Tch,” he scowled, festering anger growing on his face, “he figured that oh, B—Professor Chaos is relaxin’ a little too loudly, and my dick’s a little too small to please my wife, why don’t I make that an acceptable reason for punishment!” His hands flew up into the air and back behind him, the small thunk of his metal gloves causing Mysterion to flinch ever so slightly.
The hero’s gaze lingered on the other for a moment before he came up with a response. “…Yeah, I understand what you mean,”
“I told you I didn’t feel like fightin’ tonight, the least you could do is…”
“No, I really do understand you,” Mysterion interrupted, his voice a little louder than he intended. “…Sorry. My dad does the same thing, just, uh…he’s a drunkard, so’s my mom, they’re both kinda the problem. If I don’t take the heat, though, my little sister will, so I’ll gladly take any beating just so she doesn’t.” Shit, was he over sharing? Surely Chaos wouldn’t be able to figure out his identity from family members. Hundreds of teenagers in South Park could have a little sister and deadbeat parents.
It was as if time stopped in the few moments Chaos didn’t respond, the seconds feeling like decades. His expression softened, then broke into a crooked smile. “Even in the day, you still have a hero complex?”
Mysterion felt his lips tug upwards. “Symbol of peace is still the symbol of peace, costume or not,”
Chaos giggled. The darker blonde couldn’t quite figure out why this made him smile a little wider.
“You know, Mysti,” he started, “you remind me of someone I know,”
“Oh yeah?” He paused. “Don’t call me that,”
Chaos ignored the first part. “Yeah! He’s a kid in my calculus class. He looks a little like you, but he’s super cool n’ charmin’ n’ all that,” there was a slight flush on Chaos’ face as he spoke. Mysterion took note of that. “He hangs out with some a’ my friends, so we’re together a lot. He’s…he’s real special to me.”
“Do you like guys?” Mysterion blurted out. It was entirely an accident, but at the same time, part of him was curious. Not for any reason. Professor Chaos was a gay name with a gay costume, he just needed confirmation. Totally.
Chaos snapped his head towards Mysterion in a why-the-hell-would-you-say-that-so-out-of-pocket way, but the look on his face was…hesitant? He couldn’t figure it out. “Wh-What’s it to you?”
“Curious. If it makes you feel better, I swing both ways,” the hero smiled.
“I-I wouldn’t say I only like guys, or like them at all, uh…” He was fumbling over his words, clearly trying to figure out what to say. “I like the boy in my calculus class. I think. I-I’ve never liked another guy before, I dunno if it feels different or anything…”
Mysterion giggled. “That’s an awfully personal thing for you to tell me,”
“Wh—?! You asked!”
“I know. I’m teasing.”
The soft buzzing of cars and various muffled conversations below filled their silence. In all honesty, it was comforting; there hadn’t really been a time where either of them could just sit and relax in the past couple of months, and both of them knew it. Crazy behavior for two boys everyone knew as enemies.
“Why do you do it, Chaos?” Mysterion asked eventually, watching the rising smoke from his cigarette. He’d been wondering for a while, but obviously, that’s not a question you can just come out and ask.
“Huh? D-Do what?”
“You know. Do everything you do when you’re Professor Chaos. You seem like…” he paused, collecting his thoughts. “I dunno. Hearing you talk about this calculus guy, you seem like a good kid. What went wrong?”
“Don’t call me a kid!” He snapped. “I just…I’m gettin’ back at the world! It turned its back towards me, everyone’s makin’ me suffer…why shouldn’t I do the same to them?!” His voice sounded strained—shaky, almost. His eyes grew misty as he yelled.
“I know. It did—is doing—the same to me. But you can still come to the bright side, Chaos,” Mysterion put a hand on his shoulder, watching him flinch as he made contact. “It’s not too late, we can take care of everyone who’s hurt you in a way that doesn’t involve violence—“
“No! Shit, you never understood, did you!?” Chaos growled, standing up in a jolt. Mysterion flinched, staring up at him. From this point, it was scary how Chaos towered over him, but it made the small tears streaming down his cheeks obvious. “I can’t solve my problems with peace! You have no idea what’s happened in my life that I just have to sit back and accept!”
“I- I’m sorry, I do understand your issue. I have it too, or at least similar. We don’t have to solve it with peace, I haven’t always been so friendly with—“
“Oh, stop making this about you!” Chaos growled,
his hands balling into fists. “Sure, we’re similar, so what!? You have something you need to be strong for. Aren’t you supposed ta’ be roamin’ the streets to protect your stupid sister? What were you doin’ slackin’ off?”
“Don’t talk bring my sister into this you fucking freak!” Mysterion retaliated. The hurt expression on Chaos’ face brought him back to reality. “W-wait, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean, uh…listen—“
“NO! You listen, Mysterion! Do you know what Stephen and Linda have put me through my entire life? What Eric and Stan and those guys have used me for!?” His yelling seemed to make the world silent. Mysterion was on his feet now, cigarette thrown off the building, fists at the ready. “This isn’t a problem that can be solved with smooth talking, Mysterion. You’d know if…if…” And just like that, he broke down sobbing. He was like a bomb that had been waiting to explode; of course Mysterion felt bad, but something in his speech stuck out to him.
“Stephen and Linda…Stotch?” He asked quietly, cautiously walking over. “Butters, is that you?”
The other snapped his head up, his eyes wide and glossy. “B…Huh? D-Did I say somethin’ about my identity?” Though his voice was shaky, there was no doubt about it: the man standing in front of him right now was Butters Stotch.
Mysterion was at a loss for words. In hindsight, that was probably the only logical option; who else in South Park had that thick of an accent with a scar over their left eye? He felt stupid only just realizing this.
But Butters being Professor Chaos? He never would’ve guessed. He’s such a good kid in school, probably the friendliest person in his grade, and he never really made an effort to retaliate against everyone who picked on him. Why would this be his way of coping? And why didn’t he tell anyone about what happened at home? Sure, it wasn’t anyone’s business, but he knew all about Kenny’s home life, shouldn’t he feel safe enough to do the same?
“Who… Who are you!? How do you know my name?!” Butters yelled, taking a step back for every step forward Mysterion took.
He bit his lip. “Butters, it’s, uhm…me,” hesitantly, he lowered his hood and took off his mask, his eyes on the dirty roof below him.
“K-Kenny?” The other boy’s voice was barely above a whisper, everything he said slowly coming back to him. His face flushed and he was quick to remove his helmet. “Kenny, you’re Mysterion?”
He nodded. “Not to put you on the spot but why didn’t you tell me about anything happening to you?” He walked over, intertwining his gloved fingers with his. Butters didn’t resist. “I always told you I’d be there for you. I didn’t wanna see anyone I like end up like Chaos, but you’re…”
“I…I didn’t wanna worry you, Ken,” his grip on the other’s hand tightened, the metal from his gloves no doubt leaving indents in Kenny’s rubber ones. He didn’t care about that right now. “You already have so much goin’ on, I didn’t wanna—“
“Butters, listen to me,” He removed his gloves and threw them to the side, bringing his hands to the other boy’s face and gently stroking away any stray tears with his thumbs. “I care about you. A lot more than you might realize. I wanna know what’s going on with you. We can take care of your shitty parents together,” he paused, “and probably Cartman, too. I hate that fucking fatass.”
Butters laughed, a quiet sound that was barely legible through his cries. Kenny found it cute, though it probably wasn’t the time.
They had both retreated back to silence, just staring at each other. It was hard to process the events of tonight, it all happened too fast; if you asked Kenny to recall the events that happened only 20 minutes ago, he most likely couldn’t tell you. But still, he stared at Butters in admiration, enjoying his company.
It didn’t feel like the movies when they kissed. It felt sad, or bittersweet, like they were magnetized together just because of the moment. It was Kenny who leaned in first, barely having time to sneak a glance towards Butters to ask for permission before the other’s lips were pressed against his. When Kenny’s fist was balled in his hair, when Butters could still vaguely taste the lingering smoke in his mouth, it didn’t feel like anything he’d seen in media. It felt wrong and right at the same time. Wrong for the circumstances, maybe; right for each other.
Butters pulled away, his tears leaving sticky marks on his face as they dried. Though it was Kenny who wanted to…kiss, he couldn’t help but overthink.
“Ken?”
“Yeah?”
“Did that…mean anything?” His knuckles instinctively rubbed together. That was another thing that should’ve been obvious in hindsight; Kenny only knew of two people who did that and he was one of them. The other being himself.
He was quiet. “It doesn’t have to mean anything if you don’t want it to. There’s still the boy in your calculus class, I don’t wanna—“
“Kenny. You are the boy in my calculus class,” he took his gloves off, grabbing the blonde’s hand. He smiled at the dumb look on Kenny’s face when he realized.
“Oh. Then yeah, it can mean something,” his face flushed, and he stared back out at the city. “Thanks. For telling me everything, I mean. I guess that’s a valid excuse for a villain origin story,” he joked.
“I’m sorry for not telling you earlier.”
“Don’t apologize. Forget about it,” Kenny mumbled, leaning his head on Butters’ shoulder. “For now, let’s enjoy this.”
They watched the sun rise over the three feet of snow covering their little podunk mountain town. It was one of those nights where everything was still shitty, but maybe right now, they didn’t hate it as much as they thought.