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Kenny stuck his tongue out, right in the middle of his masterpiece. He was halfway through drawing a mega dick around Craig Tucker’s stupid head, pubes and all. “Rapist homo thug..” He whispered under his breath, writing the words across the picture's forehead.
Stan pulled the yearbook out of his hands, slapping Kenny’s hands away. “Please don’t write rape in my yearbook, you fucking weirdo.”
Kenny followed his hands, draping himself across his boyfriend's back. “Baby, let me finish that, I was gonna do the prom picture next. Timmy and Bebe need devil horns and mustaches with their crowns.”
Stan slapped the book shut, rolling his eyes. “My parents are gonna look through this and think Craig is a rapist.” He stuck his tongue out, Kenny mirroring him and making a face. “I don’t need you shattering their image of Craig and Tweek, you know my dad would be crushed.”
“Pfft–” Kenny scoffed. He waved his hand flippantly. “ Nothing could do that. Hell, they got voted cutest couple over us, and we all know we are a much cuter couple.”
Stan seemed to think for a moment, staring at his stupid partner. “Maybe you can write that in your own yearbo–oop! You can’t, you couldn’t afford one.” Kenny’s jaw dropped dramatically. He clutched his heart and fell backward in Cartman’s bed, pretending to die from such a hit.
“That is low even for you, Marsh. You wound me.” Stan smiled and let the book slip off the bed. He put his hand on Kenny’s chest, bending over him to press their lips together.
“God, you guys are disgusting.” They both looked up, eyes landing on Kyle. He raised an eyebrow. “What?” He asked. “Did you forget I was here?” Kenny nodded vigorously as Stan shook his head, pushing himself up. The couple looked at eachother, Stan tapping Kenny’s face gently, signaling for him to sit up as well.
Kenny propped himself up on his elbows. He snapped his fingers sassily, pursing his lips and making a face. “Just cause you don’t like PDA with your mans doesn't mean we feel the same way.” He wrapped his arms around Stan’s waist, pushing his nose into the raven’s hair. “God, I love when you’re a greaseball like this.”
Stan rolled his eyes and pushed Kenny off him, the other boy flopping back onto Cartman’s bed. “You are nasty–also I showered last night, stop calling me a greaseball, my hair just looks like that.”
Kyle scoffed, thinking about how gross these two were. He picked up Stan’s yearbook, flipping through it aimlessly. “Rape isn’t a joke either.” He muttered. “You shouldn’t vandalize Stan’s yearbook with that crap.”
“You have a lot of nerve saying that.” All three of them looked over to Cartman, who had been uncharacteristically quiet, sitting in the chair at his computer.
Kyle furrowed his eyebrows. “What?”
“The rape thing.” He clarified.
Kyle nodded, looking vaguely irritated. “Yeah, I know the rape thing, I’m asking what you mean by that.”
Cartman turned his chair around, his arms crossed over his chest. “With everything in the country right now,” He started. “With how our president is molesting people..” He looked up to the ceiling, avoiding eye contact with them. “All I can think about is how I was molested, and no one wanted to help me.”
Kenny sat up fully, coming to sit next to Stan, who had straightened uncomfortably. “Dude, what are you talking about?”
Cartman suddenly looked angry, his face twisting. He jabbed his finger in the air towards them. “I told you when we were kids I was forced to suck dick in some alley and you guys knew what that meant, and you did nothing !”
Kenny’s eyes widened. He looked at the other two in shock, his eyebrows riding in his hairline. “Is that fucking true? Where was I during this, why don’t I remember that?”
Eric rubbed his forehead irritably. “You were.. around , but you weren’t– you have an excuse.”
Stan glanced at his boyfriend, an ashamed expression on his face. He looked to Cartman, speaking like he was a scared animal. “Cartman, if I remember right you weren’t..” He looked like he was struggling to get it out, knowing it was a bad decision to say what he was about to say, finally seeming to reluctantly settle that this would go poorly no matter what. He just accepted his fate. “You weren’t forced to do that, you just–”
Kenny spun to face him, looking hurt and shocked. His voice was high when he spoke, “Stan! Wh–”
“I was 9!” Eric shouted over him, leaping to his feet so suddenly his chair rattled against his desk. One of the monitors wobbled, whatever game he was playing displaying a large ‘YOU DIED’ in red letters. He walked around his room, waving his hands in the air with a crazed look in his eyes. “We were just kids, and–and all these things happened to us, and I know you guys have forgiven me for them, but I haven’t! The things that happened to us weren't normal, and I have to live knowing I was taken advantage of when I was a child, when I didn’t know better!”
The boys stayed silent, Stan and Kyle looking down the floor in shame, not wanting to confront the rage in front of them. Cartman wasn’t shouting anymore, but his voice was still raised, and his gait had slowed. He cracked his knuckles into his palm, something he had only started recently doing out of anxiety. “You don’t know what that does to someone! What being touched like that does to someone, what a fucking twisted view of sex I have now.”
Kyle seemed to come to some sort of realization. He looked up at Cartman with sad eyes, his anger at the whole situation punched down. “Is this why we haven’t..” He glanced at the boys on Eric’s bed. “You know..” He trailed off, embarrassed to even be talking about this with them.
“That’s–”
“Shut it, Stan!”
Kenny threw his hand over Stan’s chest, hugging him protectively. “Hey, come on, don’t talk to him like that–”
“I will talk to him however I want, he was complacent–”
Stan pushed Kenny off him, rising to his feet. He had his hands clenched at his sides, looking like he was about to cry. “I didn’t know that was going on.” He whispered. “Obviously if I knew during the fact, Kyle and I would have tried to put that to a stop, or–or tried to prevent it all together.” He looked over at Kyle. “Right?” Stan was searching for confirmation, pleading with his eyes for Kyle to agree.
“Yeah, obviously, we would have tried to stop it.”
Cartman looked at him with sad eyes. “Kyle, you’re the only one who has actually put a stop to anything.”
Kenny stood up, brushing himself off. He walked over to Cartman, looking into his eyes. The joyous laughter he had when he was with Stan was gone, replaced by some sort of reluctant acceptance. “Can I talk to you? Outside?” Kenny gestured to Stan with his head. “You’re freaking my woman out.”
Stan didn’t even look up to argue, instead kneeling to sit next to Kyle on the floor.
Cartman sneered, moving to turn away, instead freezing when Kenny’s arm shot out, gripping tightly at his upper arm. He was steeled, the smile completely wiped from his face.
The brunette’s eyes flicked to his partner. Kyle was quietly staring at one of the photos in the yearbook, a group shot of the four boys laughing, leaning against each other. Eric had his mouth pressed to Kyle’s cheek in a kiss, Kyle himself smiling wide, his arms wrapped around the other.
Without even looking, he knew what the caption was. ‘Most likely to take over the world.’
In this moment, the redhead looked totally different than he did on that page. He looked haunted. Like he had never thought about what Cartman was talking about. He probably hadn’t.
Cartman furrowed his brows and looked away, and Kenny saw it then. He had tears in his eyes, trying in futility to jerk out of the blonde's grip. His face softened, but his grip didn't. “Relax,” He said gently. “I just want to talk to you, you need to get out of here and cool down.”
They stared at each other, Kenny rigid and unmoving, and Cartman finally folding to him, nodding in response. The blonde let a small smile slip, nearly dragging Eric out of his own bedroom.
They walked down the stairs together, Kenny releasing the other. He slipped his hands into his pockets, whistling low under his breath. Kenny directed them into the kitchen, and started rooting through Eric’s cupboards, looking for any sort of food he could squeeze out of them. He had long since made peace with the fact that he was accepted at their homes, allowed to shower and eat and sleep there if he couldn’t take it anymore at home. Tending to stay at Stan’s or Eric’s, he was comfortable with all of them, almost like they all were second homes to him.
Kenny pulled a slip of popcorn out of a box, carefully replacing it back where it was supposed to be. Cartman followed him with his eyes, watching as Kenny put it into the microwave and set the timer in silence. As it started Kenny pushed himself off the ground, coming to rest on top of the counter. He kicked his feet out, his head tilted towards the microwave to listen. Eric wasn’t making eye contact, instead clenching his fists and looking off to the side. “Do you really think Stan is to blame for this? Or Kyle?” He asked neutrally.
Cartman let his head fall into his hands. He sighed, like he was tired. “No–no, of course not, I just–”
“You just don’t have anyone to blame.” Kenny said.
“No, I guess,” He sighed again, quickly growing frustrated. ”I blame myself–it’s my fault. I am to blame.” He finally admitted.
Kenny clicked his tongue, cutting him off with a nod of his head. “No, you’re not. No one is to blame for the things that happen out of their control.” He smiled, letting his bangs fall over his warm brown eyes. “And believe me, I know all about things that are out of my control.”
Eric snorted and wiped at his nose with the back of his hand. His tears had dried up, leaving streaks down his face. Kenny’s eyes followed them until he heard the popcorn started popping in the microwave, instead turning to peek in. He had been thrown into one of these as a kid, burned until he exploded, and still he was close to them. The same way Cartman could still stand next to grown men and women, the ones he wasn't familiar with, and not shake apart when their eyes turned to him.
They were sort of kindred spirits in that way. No matter what happened to them, neither of them ever broke under the stress, under the pressure. Kenny laughed in the face of death, wagging his finger and saying not today, a sneer painted across his face.
Until he was crushed by a piano or run over by a semi or shot through the head.
Eric felt his eyes soften. “Maybe it’s time I take the approach to life that you have.”
“Hmm?” Kenny turned his eyes back from the microwave, biting his lip. “Did you say something?”
“Nothing.”
The microwave beeped and Kenny jumped off the counter. He landed on his socked feet, padding around lightly. Kenny took the bag out and shook it, trying to get the kernels at the bottom to pop. He held it gingerly between two fingers. “If you don’t blame Kyle and Stan for what happened to you, you shouldn’t take your anger out on them. They’re my friends too, you know.”
“Yeah, I just–I don’t know.”
“No, I get it.” He opened the bag and scooped out a handful, shoveling it into his mouth. “Stan still doesn’t understand the whole coming back from death thing, he thinks I’m just playing around, so I’ve kind of just dropped it.”
Cartman checked his nails again, holding them spread out in front of him. “He should know the things in this town aren't as they seem, we fought an actual mega-robot and saved Earth–hell, you killed death.”
Kenny pointed his finger at him, eyes wide. “That's what I said!” They both laughed, Kenny throwing his head back and Cartman snickering behind his hand. They relaxed into the air, everything having settled to a comfortable stillness. Kenny bit his lip, his soft eyes seeking Eric’s. “I’m gonna go back upstairs, okay? See if the ladies have cooled down.” He turned on his heel, sticking his foot out dramatically.
“Thanks, Kenny. Really.”
Kenny looked over his shoulder, smiled knowingly. He always seemed much older than he actually was when it counted. “No problem dude, we barely even talked, and honestly–” He turned again, facing Cartman with the popcorn tucked under his arm. “You ever really need to talk about this, please call me. I’m your best friend dude, I’m not gonna just turn you away.” He leaned forward, whispering the next part. “Plus your house has the best snacks so I'm always trying to come over, trauma or not.”
Cartman laughed and Kenny grinned before turning on his heel and walking out. Eric was left alone, staring out the window into his backyard. He scrubbed a hand down his face, thinking about the words (or lack of) they had just exchanged.
Kenny was right. No one was really to blame other than people who did this to him. Some pathetic older people putting their hands on his body just because he was young. He thought about Kyle shouting at Snooki, all blazing eyes and how that was a turning point. Someone actually coming to his defense, not having to fight for himself that time.
He pushed off the counter and pulled his phone out, just worried texts and apologies from Stan and Kyle and a selfie from Kenny, the other two looking sheepish in the background. He snickered, thinking about how lucky these idiots were to have him.