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Kenny hears a knock at his window that startles him out of his gaming headspace. He sighs, not even taking a glance, assuming that it’s just the branches outside.
But it keeps persisting for another minute.
Kenny turns his head and jumps when he sees Butters’ knocking at his window.
He hops up after pausing his game, opening his window for Butters to crawl in.
Kenny recognizes the scent of alcohol on him immediately. He’s not sure whether the boy or his father is drunk.
When Butters opens his mouth to speak, Kenny’s first thought is confirmed.
“Thanks for lettin’ me in,” he smiles softly, his words slurred and loud. Kenny has to shush him in an attempt to keep their private life away from his parents.
“You’re drunk?”
Butters shakes his head, whispering: “no, of course not.”
But he quickly begins to fall, only being saved by Kenny’s quick reflexes.
Kenny pushes him gently onto the bed, and Butters lets out a quiet yelp as his back hits the mattress. The taller of the two sits next to him, grabbing his hand.
“Where’d you get the booze?” Kenny asks.
“My dad,” Butters shrugs, “he leaves it unattended.”
Kenny’s chest begins to hurt. He’s a pitiful guy, but god Butters makes even him feel bad.
“Butters,” Kenny sighs, “I’m gonna get you a glass of water, okay?”
“No,” he pouts.
“Yes.”
“I won’t drink it.”
“You will.”
Butters rolls his eyes, and that’s when Kenny notices the bruising under his right eye. He immediately cradles Butters’ face, examining it while the other boy squirms in his grip.
“What happened?”
“Ran into a corner,” Butters fibs.
“No, you didn’t.”
Butters sighs.
“Get me another drink.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Please?”
Butters has these puppydog eyes that get him whatever he wants with Kenny, and almost 100% of the time they work, but Kenny stays strong, refusing to get another beer for his boyfriend.
Kenny frowns, rubbing his thumb right over the bruise softly.
He presses his lips gently against it, pulling back before cradling his face once more.
“My dad got drunk,” Butters eventually admits, “and he got mad at me, because he doesn’t want me ending up like him… and he, uh…”
Kenny’s eyes begin to water. “I’ll kill him,” he promises, although it’s an empty threat. The poor, skinny teen wouldn’t stand a chance against Butters’ dad.
Butters chuckles. “So after he left, I just… started drinking. Wanted to see what the big fuss was about.”
“I’ll kill him,” Kenny repeats quietly.
“Not if I get to it first,” Butters grumbles, resting his head against Kenny’s shoulder.
“You’re too pretty for jail,” Kenny laughs, playing with his hair.
“And you’re not?”
“You’re the only one who finds me pretty, Butters.”
“Then I’m the most important person, huh?”
Kenny kisses him, and immediately he feels just as drunk as Butters was when he connects their lips.
He cradles his lover’s face, while Butters’ hands trail up and down Kenny’s thighs.
When Kenny pulls back, Butters lets out a small, sad noise at the loss of warmth.
“You should spend the night,” Kenny whispers, “I’m scared of what your dad will do.”
“And here I thought you were hitting on me,” he chuckles sadly.
“Hush,” Kenny huffs, kissing him again. It’s more put together and organized, although they grow sloppy and lazy before Kenny’s door swings open.
His mother stands there, mortified, seeing her 17 year old son make out with a boy covered in bruises.
“…dinner’s ready.”
“Mom,” Kenny groans, “please close the door.”
She nods, chuckling to herself as the door slams shut.
Butters’ face is red, but Kenny quickly kisses his worries away.
“I love you.”
Butters’ eyes widen, but he smiles. “I love you, too, Ken.”