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Kenny McCormick is face down on his bed when he hears a knock at the door.
While for many, especially people in sitcoms, a knock on the door means an exciting new opportunity to do something fun. For Kenny, however, it usually means something worse. Maybe CPS have been called again, or they've been evicted again, or some girl is over to tell Kevin (who upon turning sixteen skipped town) that she's pregnant and needs to get ahold of him right now.
His friends don't come over often, and they most certainly don't knock on his door. Stan, Kyle, and Cartman all live in their houses in a row, and they're comfortable asking each other to play. They text Kenny, sure, but it's not the same.
Speaking of, he has not received a single text from them all day for his birthday. Kenny doesn't give a shit about birthdays, really, he never has any money to get gifts for others, and his family typically doesn't care either unless they can get something out of it. However, maybe it was naive, Kenny was still hoping his friends would at least say something at school.
They didn't.
"KENNY! GET THE GODDAMN DOOR!" He hears his father scream from the other room. Getting up with a sigh, he walks past the usual disarray of his house, his mother on the phone with some sort of loan company, yelling, Karen attempting to play with a doll on the floor beyond the noise, and his father, already drunk before four PM, yelling at the TV.
He removes all the locks, opening the door and seeing… Scott Malkinson in front of him.
"Mmmph, mmmph?!" Kenny exclaims.
"I'm here because..." his big brown eyes look at Kenny. "I heard it's your birthday on the announcemenths?"
"Mmph mmph?" Kenny shrugs.
"What do you mean who cares?" Scott asks. "It's your birthday!" The lisp is making him a bit harder to understand, and he's clearly embarrassed, sweating, fidgeting with his hands.
"Mmmph. Mmmph. Mmmph. Mmmph." Kenny narrows his eyes.
"I… Why I care is because…" he looks around. "Let's take a walk."
Kenny doesn't know why he agrees. Maybe it's because he's bored as shit, or because he feels bad for Scott because no one wants to hang out with him, or because he's the only one who remembered his birthday for some godforesaken reason.
So he finds himself on a walk, where they end up sitting at some chairs outside of a closed cafe in SodaSopa.
"My dad hates this place," Scott says. "Drove up the cost of living too much."
"Mmmph!"
"Oh, really? Maybe they could get along."
Kenny shakes his head, and Scott looks down awkwardly.
"Well, uh, anyway. I've been going by this cupcake store for a little bit now, because I need sugar and stuff, and they were having a buy one get one half off sale, so… I got you one." He clears his throat, no doubt tired from the exhaustion of talking with his tongue the way it is, and pulls out a strawberry cupcake.
Kenny blinks. "Mmph?"
Scott scowls. "I already said it. It's your birthday."
It's simple. It should be simple. When it's your birthday, you get something, Kenny reminds himself. It's nice. Very nice.
But he doesn't trust it.
"Mmmph….mmph mmmph mmmph mmph." He crosses his arms.
"Does someone need a reason to do something nice for a birthday?" Scott asks, picking at a freckle on his face.
"Mmmph." Kenny shrugs, beginning to eat the cupcake. It's good. Really good. He can't think of the last time he's had one.
"Isn't it good?" Scott asks. "It's my favorite." He grins.
"Mmmph, mmph!" Kenny says, smiling, though there's no way that Scott can see it.
"You're welcome."
He watches as Scott sighs, taking out his insulin pump and pricking his finger. He stares at the drop of blood with interest.
"Oh. I have to do this a lot." Scott seems kind of embarrassed. "My levels are fine right now."
"Mmph."
"Yeah, it is good." He smiles. He has a nice smile, Kenny notices. It's cute. "Um, so, basically, I felt bad for you because your friends… forgot."
"Mmph…mmmph mmmph mmmph mmph?"
"I could tell by your face," he says, the word "tell" coming off as "thell." "I know that face. People don't pay attention to me, either."
"Mmmph mmph mmmph mmmph mmmph."
"No, even Butters thinks I'm a loser."
"Mmmph, mmmph… mmmph mmph mmmph."
Scott's eyes light up. "What? Really? You don't?"
"Mmph." And before Kenny can stop it, the other boy throws his arms around him. Kenny wants to push him off, because he's a guy, and that's gay, but he has to admit it's pretty nice. He's… cozy. Kenny is cozy.
He wants to see him again.
"Sorry," Scott says after they break contact. "That was probably… weird."
"Mmph."
"Are you sure?" Scott asks.
Kenny rolls his eyes, before taking off his hood. "Yes, I wanna hang again, just don't get too faggy about it."
Scott giggles, and this time, Kenny doesn't mind when he spits all over the place.