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“Good night, son.”
“Good night, dad!”
As the door shuts, Butters lowers the sheets from his chin and shoots up in excitement. He gazes nervously towards the window, then back at his wall, then the window again. He giggles a little, then silently steps out of bed. A floorboard creaks and he freezes, carefully raising his foot and stepping somewhere else.
With a fluttering heart, Butters opens his closet to the outfit he’d picked out the night prior—it lays hung up in front of all of his other clothes, his shoes beneath the pants as if there is an invisible man wearing his attire. He giggles in excitement again and slips the clothes on, putting his previously worn clothes in the hamper.
He knows Kenny is waiting for him just around the corner, parked in his rusty, barely-orange truck. He steals a look out the window while he puts on his shoes and squints to see the easily identifiable vehicle. When he spots it, his heart soars, and he ties his shoes even quicker.
He adorns a simple light blue turtleneck and dark jeans. He had carefully retied the laces of his blue converse so that none of them are twisted and his turtleneck has no strings out of place. Thankfully, Butters doesn’t have a pet, otherwise he’d need to borrow his mom’s lint roller. That would be a nightmare to pull off.
With a wistful sigh, Butters scratches at his undercut and moves to check himself in the mirror. His hair is messy, so he combs through it quickly and precisely. He frowns when it doesn’t fix much, but decides gel would be too much. He uses some anyways and it does the trick.
As a last minute thought, he sprays cologne all over his clothing. Maybe he uses an excessive amount, but he wants to make a good impression! Butters would cry if Kenny wrinkled his nose in his presence.
When he looks down at his nails, he finds that one is longer than the rest, which he simply cannot have. He uses a nail clipper to fix it, then decides that not just one can look freshly clipped, so he does the rest.
He contemplates switching his outfit, but knows he doesn’t have time; besides, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with what he’s wearing, he’s just overthinking things. Come on, Butters, it’s just Kenny!
Butters tiptoes over towards the window, ensuring that he has his phone and I.D., because it’s never not a good idea to have those on you. He unlocks the window with a quiet click and places his hands on the bottom. Do it fast, don’t draw it out. With a wince, Butters squints his eyes shut and looks away from the window as he opens it with a loud squeak. He stands and waits for a moment, and when he doesn’t hear his parents walking towards his room, he steps out the window and onto the roof.
Butters gulps as he looks down at the distance between where he stands and the ground. It’s just a little drop, he tries to rationalize, but it doesn’t seem that way to his brain. He squints his eyes shut again and lowers himself, now hanging by the gutter. It’s not really that far, just a few feet. He thinks of Kenny waiting for him and releases the gutter, gasping when his feet hit the ground and he finds himself unscathed.
“Overdramatic,” Butters whispers to himself with a frown, and he crouches low as he walks swiftly towards Kenny’s truck. The headlights are off, but as he approaches, he can see the boy standing by his truck with his arms crossed.
Kenny dons a white wife beater that accentuates his biceps, his orange jacket tied flimsily around his waste. Shredded black jeans fade into black combat boots that look like they’ve seen war. All of this considered, it’s obvious he’s freshened up.
His hair is nicer than Butters thinks he’s ever seen it—if that really accounts for anything considering it’s hidden beneath a hoodie most of the time. As Butters grows closer, he can’t see a speck of dirt on Kenny’s skin, and when he’s standing mere feet from the other, he finds that he smells pleasantly musky. Cologne. There is a noticeable hint of smoke in his scent and Butters flushes.
“Hey,” Kenny says, flashing Butters a smile, to which Butters responds with a meager “Hi.” Kenny’s smile widens into a smirk and he cups Butters’ arm with one hand, gently bringing him to the passenger side of the truck and opening the door for him.
“Oh, thank you,” Butters smiles, stepping up into the truck with the help of Kenny’s hand and taking a seat on the worn leather.
“You’re welcome.” Butters can hear the smirk in Kenny’s voice as he says it while he closes the door. Butters takes a moment to admire how clean the truck is compared to the last time he’d seen it; the dashboard is clear, the windows are clean, and there isn’t as much grime coated on the truck’s inside. The same can’t be said for the outside—it would take a miracle to get rid of all that rust and muck.
Kenny slides into the truck next to him and starts the engine, which sputters a bit before evening out into a low hum. “I’m glad she started,” Kenny says, rubbing the steering wheel. “Old girl hasn’t seen much love, and lately she’s been giving me trouble.”
Butters chuckles shyly. “I’m glad she started, too,” he mumbles, and Kenny gives him a soft look.
“Where, um,” Butters begins, fumbling in his nervous stats. “Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.” Kenny smirks as he begins driving. “Oh, and close your eyes,” he says, sparing a long glance towards Butters. “I want this to be a surprise.”
Butters nods in anticipation and squints his eyes shut. Kenny chuckles.
“Not that tight, babe,” he says, and Butters flushes as he relaxes his eyelids.
It feels like the drive takes an hour, but he knows it could have only taken half as long, tops.
“Here we are,” Kenny says as he puts the truck in park. Butters looks away from his face—how long had he been staring there?—and looks ahead through the windshield. His jaw promptly drops, eyes alight, and he feels Kenny’s warm gaze on him as he takes in the scenery.
Kenny’s taken them to the top of a mountain, which would explain the feeling of incline. From where Butters sits, he can see all of the lights in South Park glowing in the night sky, though the full moon demands most of his attention, which stares directly at him. It’s perfect; the view is perfect, the location is perfect, Kenny is perfect.
“I wanted to show you the view from inside the truck first, then turn us around,” Kenny grins, putting the truck in reverse and performing a quick three-point-turn so the bed of the truck is now facing exactly where Butters had been looking before. He feels an excited smile creep onto his face, and he turns towards Kenny, who’s already looking at him with a warm look in his eyes.
“Don’t worry,” Kenny says, “there’re blankets and pillows in the back.”
Butters moves to exit the truck, but Kenny vocalizes an “Ah-ah-ah,” and swiftly exits the truck, opening the door for a flushed Butters. The latter steps out of the truck, letting a hand grip Kenny’s bicep to help him lower himself, blushing all the way.
Butters mumbles a quiet “Thanks,” that comes out as more of an embarrassed squeak, Kenny chuckling lowly as he shuts the door behind Butters.
“Anytime.”
Kenny stalks towards the bed of the trunk and pulls down the tailgate with ease. Butters flushes again as Kenny holds out his hand for Butters to use to help him step up into the bed. He takes it graciously, and in moments’ time, both boys are laid down next to each other, staring at the night sky.
“You took me here to stargaze?” Butters asks, eyes alight with wonder. Kenny stares at Butters, not unkindly, taking in all of his facial features, from the furrow of his brows to the curves of his lips and the dip above his chin.
“Yeah,” Kenny finally manages to mumble, and flushes himself when Butters turns to look at him.
“Thank you,” Butters says with a soft smile, and Kenny feels his heart pick up speed. He drags his gaze up and away, feeling Butters’ own gaze linger on him before following suit.
The two lay, staring at the stars, as Butters begins to name off the constellations he knows. Kenny finds that he could never get tired of Butters’ voice, no matter what, and listens to every word he says with adoring devotion.
When it comes time for Kenny to take Butters home, it takes both of them a long time to actually get in the truck. Neither of them want the night to end; it feels to soon, as if they’ve only just arrived. But it’s nearing three, and both boys need their rest for school the next day. Once they arrive at Butters’ house, Butters reminds Kenny that they’ll see each other in mere hours, though is hesitant himself to step out of the truck.
In a last minute decision, Kenny slowly leans over and cups the side of Butters’ face. Butters flushes, though finds himself leaning in as well, and suddenly their lips are touching. Kenny’s are exactly like Butters predicted—rough, worn, somewhat dry. But this only makes Butters all the more elated.
When they finally pull away from each other, Butters’ eyes still closed, Kenny swipes his thumb over Butters’ cheek and presses a delicate kiss to the opposite one.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” he asks, and Butters opens his eyes and nods, placing a hand overtop Kenny’s before opening the truck door.
Kenny only just manages to keep himself in the drivers seat as Butters climbs out of the truck and closes the door. The latter waves shyly, and Kenny returns it with a soft smile, not unlike the one that’s been plastered to Butters’ lips since their kiss.
When Butters finally makes it up into his room after what feels like ten minutes of scaling the wall like some sort of spider, he changes back into his pajamas and lays in bed.
As he drifts off into sleep, Butters finds that he can’t stop thinking about rough lips and musky cologne.