I also have my works posted on Ao3, FanFiction.net, Quotev, and Wattpad if you guys would rather there. Currently trying to finish my South Park Fanfic
Summary: It was only meant to be a stupid game of dares, 'The King's Game.' But, of course, nothing could go Stan's way. Cartman thought it would be hilarious to get under everyone's skin with his stupid dare and he did. Now, Stan had no way of getting back with Wendy because he was stuck with this dare.
Butters didn't care too much about the dare in its entirety. Stan was a cool guy and maybe they could get closer. He didn't see anything wrong with this dare from Eric. But, oh boy, if his parents knew, he'd sure be grounded. After this dare ends, he and Stan could still be friends, right?
What was the dare?:
Stan and Butters were forced to date for two months.
~~~
Stan was exhausted by the time Sunday came around. Kyle wasn't available yesterday like he had hoped so they decided today would work instead. Which… kinda sucked because his thoughts didn't leave him alone once it was a new day. He kept replaying the thoughts he had at the picnic and the feeling of constant nausea he would experience. He was still confused and he didn't like it.
He had tried calling Tweek again, hoping he had his phone this time, but to no avail. Craig had picked up for him again and Stan had hung up on him before he was able to work on any of his nerves.
He tried to ignore it, but that just made it worse and he just couldn't stand it. So, he ended up picking up an extra shift to deter his racing mind, but all that did was just make another part of him feel fatigued. Even sleeping wasn't enough to distract him because once he was aware that he was awake, nerves came flooding back and he couldn’t stop thinking about Butters again. He was all he could think about and no distraction was enough. He spent his entire Saturday thinking about the blonde. And he hated it.
He couldn't stop thinking about how he looked under the stars. Or how Stan had thought, for a moment, that the other boy was pretty. Or how when he hugged him, it was like he was given just a few moments of peace and the unfamiliar happiness mixed with a bundle of nerves piling in his stomach. What can he say? Butters' sunny demeanor was addictive once you got a small taste.
It shouldn't bother him, it doesn't bother him… but the more he thought of him, the more out of control his thoughts became. And that's when the nerves and nausea would get worse.
Everything that he recently learned about the blonde would spiral together and create unwanted images in his head. Now he kept on thinking about him making out with different people. It didn't matter if he knew them or not. And it made him feel so guilty.
Then he would start to think about Kenny and Butters kissing. How that would look. It would make his stomach churn. And then Kenny morphed into someone that looked eerily like himself. Now he was thinking about kissing Butters himself. How that would look. He even thought about how it would be like to kiss Kenny.
He felt his stomach give an intense flip and he let out a groan. It was all he could think about ever since the thought had first crossed his mind and he couldn’t help but feel guilty. They were his friends. He shouldn't be thinking about them like that.
Butters did offer to help him if he had any questions, but Stan just felt embarrassed just thinking about it. What was he going to do? He can't just go up to him and say, "Hey, dude! Ever since you told me you were bisexual I can't stop thinking about you making out with random people, including myself! I don’t know why, do you? And can I kiss you to see if it's just as enticing as you make it sound?"
He didn't want to take advantage of Butters' sexuality just because he was curious. But at the same time, he felt if he didn’t do anything, his thoughts would eat him alive. He tried telling himself that he just misses Wendy and that's why he's feeling confused. But the more he tried repeating that, the less his mind believed it.
He was hoping maybe Kyle could talk some sense into him; connect the dots as he usually did. Help him understand why nothing was working to stop him from having these inappropriate thoughts about his friends. And maybe, finally, these stupid thoughts can go away and he can focus on something else. Like finding out how to get Wendy back! Though, he still wasn't sure what he had done wrong in the first place.
He and Kyle had decided to meet up in the park today since his best friend wanted to practice at the basketball court for an upcoming game. It wasn't too far and they planned on even getting some food afterward too. But… there was one problem - he couldn’t get up.
He wanted to, he really did, but all he could manage was to turn to lay on his other side. He still had to see Kyle. He tried repeating in his head to try to convince himself to get up. All this did was fill him with an empty sense of dread that he would have to get up sooner or later.
He didn’t want to cancel on him again - he was more prone to doing that these days - but his entire body just felt like lead. He just couldn't move.
He heard his dog yawn and let out a whine as he padded around his room. Stan sighed and grabbed his pillow to cover his head. And he had to let Sparky out.
His eyes kept on drifting closed, but sleep wouldn't overtake him no matter how long he stayed in his bed. Sometimes… He just wanted to sleep forever, hide himself from everything and everyone. And plus, nothing bad ever happens when you’re sleeping.
Sparky let out another loud whine and Stan was quick to hush him. "Just hold it a little longer, boy," he mumbled before hiding under his covers. He wrapped his arms around himself and tried again to lull himself back to sleep.
A soft knock on his door had his eyes shooting open instead. "Stan?"
He tried to respond to his mom, but the only thing that came out was a low hum.
He heard his door open. "Stanley?"
He hummed again, this time louder.
"Sparky has been whining this entire time. You should take him for a walk."
He didn't acknowledge this at first. He just shifted under his cocoon of blankets to try to stay within the warmth. He gave her a hum of acknowledgment but still made no effort to move.
His mom sighed from the doorway and he heard her walk into his room. "Fine, Stanley, I'll take him. I made some breakfast for you. Can you at least go down to eat that? Please? And maybe we can talk? "
He took a moment before he gave another hum and listened as she spoke to Sparky in a high voice. She did this for a bit before the door closed and Stan was now left alone. Stan sighed as he continued to lay there, struggling with an internal battle of whether he should go join her or stay in bed. She was always there for him and supported him in all of his endeavors. He at least owed having breakfast with her.
He sighed again and pushed himself up in his bed after making his final decision. He swung his legs over the side of his bed and paused again. Okay, we're getting there. He stretched and the immediate desire to lay back down overtook him. He forced himself to ignore this and got up to walk over to his dresser. This was where the key to surviving most of his days was. He crouched down and pulled open the last drawer, revealing the extra clothes he piled in there without bothering to fold them. He began to rummage through the bottom drawer and pulled out a familiar substance - his just-under-half-empty bottle of Jameson Irish Whiskey.
He licked his lips as he opened the bottle and gulped down the remaining amount, letting the warmth distract him just for a moment. He paused for a long moment before reaching back into the drawer and pulling out a new bottle. He opened it and took a few big gulps before deciding it was enough. He rehid the bottle back in his drawer, planning on disposing of it later when his mom wasn't around to see. He pushed himself up, rubbing the remaining sleep from his face before leaving his room.
As he made his way downstairs to join his mom for breakfast, he couldn't help but feel the effects of the whiskey taking hold of him. The world felt a little fuzzy around the edges, but he was used to this feeling by now. He had been sneaking sips of alcohol every now and then since he was thirteen; originally trying it when he was about ten. It was a way to cope with his problems, a way to forget about all the ways the world was turning to shit around him.
His mom was already seated at the table when he entered the kitchen, munching on a slice of toast. She gave him a small smile, noticeably happy that he had decided to join her. "Good morning, sweetie. Did you sleep well?"
He mumbled a response and took a seat across from her, trying to ignore the way his head was beginning to pound.
She poured him a cup of coffee and pushed a plate of scrambled eggs, his own sausage, and toast towards him. "Eat up, honey. You'll need your energy for the day."
He picked up his fork and started poking at the eggs, trying to force himself to eat despite his lack of appetite. He took a sip of coffee and glanced up at his mom, noticing how her eyes lingered on him. He cleared his throat awkwardly and set his drink down. “So… how has work been?” He asked, hoping to distract her enough for him not to feel like she was watching his every move.
“Oh, it’s been good. There was this client that came in the other day and she-”
Honestly, Stan didn’t care enough to listen, but he hummed and nodded along like he was. He slowly ate his breakfast, staring down at his plate as she droned on about her work and the interesting tidbits she wanted to share.
When she grew quiet once more, Stan decided to look up at her. It was obvious she wanted to talk about something other than work, it was this look she always got. He looked away from her again, trying to avoid her watchful eye. She took a moment to sip at her coffee and hummed quietly. A long moment passed between them and she finally began to speak again. “Stan… I want to talk to you about something.” And there it was…
Stan shifted in his seat and gave a small sigh. “About what?”
She hummed quietly again, taking a moment as though she was trying to figure out how to word her question. “I was just wondering… is there… maybe, I don’t know, something you want to tell me?”
Stan looked up at his mom, confused. “What?”
She shrugged with a nonchalant look. “You know you can be honest with me. I won’t get mad at you, you know. I think it’s completely normal.”
Guilt began to bubble up in his chest and he looked down at his food again to avoid making eye contact with her. “I…" He stabbed at his eggs. "I have some Jameson in my room… I had some this morning.”
His mom was quiet for a long time and Stan was sure she was coming up with a way to punish him. She finally moved and walked over to him before brushing his hair back and pressing a kiss to his forehead. “That’s okay. Thank you for telling me. And I just want you to know that I’ll love you no matter what, Stanley.”
He was surprised, but he didn’t show it. “I… I know, Mom. I love you too.”
She patted his cheek with a warm smile and planted another kiss on the top of his head. She paused and played with his hair for a moment. “You… washed your hair?”
Stan ran his head through his hair at the mention of it. “Yeah.”
“For… the meteor shower… with your friend.”
He nodded, confused on why she was mentioning it again. “Yeah. I told you, it was all Bebe’s idea.”
His mom nodded, but something in her eyes told him that she wasn’t entirely convinced. “I see.” She moves to grab her empty plate and mug to bring to the sink. She hums quietly, obviously in thought. “Oh, yeah. Kyle called earlier. He told me to tell you that he’s at the basketball court in the park.”
Stan furrowed his eyebrows and looked at the clock in the kitchen. “Ah, shit!”
“Language!”
Stan fumbled out of his seat and out of the kitchen. He was late! He didn’t even check the time when he got up. He made his way up the stairs as fast as he could and into his room. He grabbed his phone and, sure enough, saw five missed calls from his best friend. He rushed to change out of his pajamas, throwing on whatever he could find that he thought were clean before practically running out of his room.
It wasn’t long before he returned, heading straight to the dresser and pulling the bottom drawer open once again. He took another few large swigs, just enough to feel buzzed enough to be able to withstand the disappointed look Kyle undoubtedly was going to give him. He shoved the bottle back into the drawer and fumbled out of his room once again and down the stairs.
When he reached the front door, he grabbed his keys, struggling to take off his car keys to leave them behind for his mom - a condition she gave him if he was going to drink. He called out a salutation to his mom before leaving the house. He rushed towards the park as fast as he could without slipping or falling and within a matter of minutes he saw the basketball court with a solitary red-head.
When Kyle saw him, his eyes slightly narrowed, but he continued to dribble the ball. “You’re late.” He called out to him as he got closer.
He raised his hand in apology. “Yeah, I’m sorry, dude.”
Kyle was quiet for a moment, but then passed the ball over to him, in which he admittedly fumbled with as it reached him. “It’s fine, just hope you’re up to try to beat me. I need a challenge.”
Kyle was most definitely not going to be challenged by Stan’s skills, but that didn’t stop him from trying. They played a few rounds, Stan stumbling around compared to Kyle’s calculated movements. Not sure how exactly to bring up his issue while they played, he decided to talk about something else until he could figure it out. “So… how’s everything going? With the dare, I mean.” He asked when Kyle scored another point.
Kyle scoffed as he caught the ball. “I don’t want to talk about that right now.”
Stan hummed and caught the ball as it was passed over to him. “Okay…” Unbothered, he dribbled the ball and tried to keep it away from Kyle, which was practically impossible.
Kyle scored another basket and sighed as he caught the ball again. “Everything he has us doing is bullshit!” And there it was. “I don’t even know why we’re doing it. His ‘punishments’ aren’t even that bad. It's not even like sending Ike to Canada is horrible, he’s been mentioning going after he graduates. But who knows where Cartman is going to have him? And my parents would kill me if I'm the reason he got sent off out of the blue.”
“And the college thing,” Stan added.
Kyle huffs and tosses the ball to him again. “Yeah, that too. But I can deal with four months.”
“But can your parents?”
His eyes narrowed at him and Stan decided to try to keep his mouth shut for the time being. They continued to play in silence, which was not what Stan wanted to go for, but he was nervous. It showed in how he played, not that he was much good in the first place, but at least he was manageable without his sweaty palms and jerky reactions.
When Stan was finally able to steal the ball from Kyle long enough, he took a shot. He wobbled a bit and missed the net by a considerable amount. "Ah, shit. Sorry, dude, I had a drink before coming." The excuse was immediate. He didn’t want Kyle to think anything else was wrong with him.
Kyle didn't respond to that, though. Instead, he picked up the ball and tossed it back toward him. So, Stan tried shooting again, but this time he hit the rim of the basket. Kyle was quick to catch the ball, but he didn't try sending the ball back to Stan’s outstretched hands. "I'm going to get a few drills in." Kyle didn't want to play with him anymore. He usually used his 'drills' as an excuse to stop watching Stan being bad at the sport.
So, Stan gave him a silent nod and stepped back to give Kyle some room while he watched him.
Kyle was lean… tall… fiery in a spirited way. His curls were kept short, but still noticeable from under his hat and his skin was on the paler side. He had a sharp, masculine look about him, something Stan was always a little jealous of.
When Stan realized his gaze was slowly moving down his body as he considered his thoughts, he snapped himself out of it and refocused on the ball instead, his cheeks growing warm.
That was it. Maybe he could pretend to ignore the problem if it had just stayed Butters or Kenny. But imagining Kyle! He had to get to the bottom of this fast. But how? What was he supposed to do? He’s never talked to Kyle about his sexuality, and vice-versa. It was just something… they’d never considered talking about. Not that it mattered.
"Hey… you alright, dude?"
Stan refocused on Kyle and saw that he had moved to stand in front of him, holding the ball out and waiting for him. “Y-yeah…" He cleared his throat so his voice could stop shaking. "Just zoned out, my bad." Kyle indicated the ball once again and Stan shook his head. “Nah, man. I don’t think I’m a good match for you. But keep doing your thing.”
Kyle shrugged in response and dribbled the ball to a spot along the line, setting up a shot.
Well, it was now or never. He cleared his throat to try to get Kyle’s attention and hesitated before speaking. “Dude?”
Kyle, still focused on dribbling the ball in his spot to get a good shot, didn’t look at Stan when he responded, “Yeah?”
Stan’s words were caught in his throat and he felt like throwing up. His mouth floundered as he tried to force the words out. Anything, anything to get the ball rolling. “Have…” He swallowed. “Have you ever… I don’t know… wantedtokissaguybefore?” He rushed out.
When Stan had finished his question, Kyle had turned to look at him, eyes wide, just as the ball had left his hand. Everything happened so fast, Stan almost didn't understand how it happened - the ball had hit the corner of the backboard and had shot back to hit Kyle square in the face.
Kyle keeled over, his hands covering his nose.
"Holy shit, dude!" Stan ran over to him and grabbed his shoulders to try to get a better look at the damage. "Fuck, man, you're bleeding!"
"What do you mean?"
"Huh? Your nose, dude."
Kyle’s eyebrows furrowed. "Why would I want to kiss another guy?"
Stan couldn't believe it. Kyle was seriously backtracking the conversation as if a fountain of blood wasn't spilling from his nose. "I don't know! Like how you kissed Craig."
Kyle blanched. "No! Why would you think that?!"
"I-"
"That's gross! I would never do that!" The color in Kyle’s face began to return at a rapid pace, now surpassing its original color. "Especially with Craig!" And you technically already did.
"I-it doesn't have to be- I didn’t mean just Craig."
"What?” He scoffed. “You think I would kiss you?”
Stan felt a harsh pang in his chest at this. “N-no, not…” He let go of Kyle, not understanding why Kyle was being mean about this and why his chest was beginning to hurt. "I just wanted-"
"Wanted what?
I just wanted to know if what I'm feeling is normal.
Instead, what came out was, “Kyle… You’re being a douchebag.”
That was clearly the wrong thing to say because the look he got from him was scalding. He gave a sound of surprise as Kyle pushed him off and stood. "This is all your fucking fault!”
Stan felt hurt and confused, looking up at his best friend as he seethed with anger. “What-?”
“‘Let’s go to the party, Kyle!’ ‘You need to relax, Kyle!’ ‘It’s just going to be a little party, nothing bad is gonna happen. Take the stick out of your ass Kyle!’ If you didn’t fucking force me to go to that party, I wouldn’t have Cartman up my ass anymore than he already is and dealing with Craig’s bullshit! But, no, you wanted to go to the party for Wendy!”
“That’s not-”
"Look at where that got us! You're so fucking pathetic and desperate for Wendy’s attention that we have to do some bullshit game to entertain Cartman. Why is it always the same damn thing with you?”
Stan swallowed, his eyes wide as he looked up at the redhead. "Are you seriously doing this right now?"
“Yeah, yeah, I am! Because you have been the same ever since I fucking met you. Always so self-centered and pessimistic. It’s no wonder Wendy keeps breaking up with you, you’re so fucking tiring. I wouldn’t want to deal with you either.”
That was a low blow. He pushed himself up and took a step closer, but was still wary of getting too into Kyle’s space. "I really am trying, Kyle."
"Trying what? Nothing has changed. It's always the same damn thing with you! You always make everything about yourself!"
"Like you're any better?" Was Stan’s response and he was suddenly shoved to the ground by Kyle, making him give a loud ‘oof.’
"You better shut the fuck up! I don't give a shit if you're supposed to be my friend, I will still fuck you up if you keep testing me."
“You’re being a shitty friend,” was Stan’s weak attempt at any sort of comeback.
Kyle let out a mocking laugh. "News Flash, Stan: You're just as shitty of a friend! You always think of yourself and fuck how everybody else feels, right?" Stan began to blink rapidly as he felt his eyes begin to sting. "Until you fix whatever the fuck is wrong with you, don't talk to me. I'm done with all of your bullshit." Kyle stomped over to the ball and picked it up as he wiped his nose, staining his sweater. He didn't spare another glance towards Stan as he trudged out of the park.
Stan continued to stare at where his best friend was just a few seconds ago… or could he really call him that anymore? Kyle was right after all. Stan was so desperate to keep the bond between the two of them that he refused to see that it was fraying the entire time during these past years.
He pushed himself up from the ground, stumbling for a moment. He wanted to go home. He should've just listened to himself and canceled again. Maybe, this wouldn't have happened… He could feel tears blurring in his eyes and he hurriedly wiped them away. He didn’t want to cry. Not now, especially not now when there was a chance for Kyle to still see him. He didn’t want him to know that he had completely crushed him. He didn’t bother cleaning himself off as he finally moved to exit the park.
Pathetic… Desperate… That’s what Kyle had called him. He wondered if other people saw him that way, he wondered if Wendy did. If Kyle was right… He must be… it was almost rare for him to be both passionate and wrong. Hey, but at least he can thank Kyle for one thing - He definitely wasn't thinking about Butters anymore.
Stan didn’t even realize when he got home, so lost in his thoughts. He took a breath and tried being quiet as he entered his house, but nothing really went past his mom.
"Stan?" Her head poked out from the kitchen. "You're already back?"
He nodded, clearing his throat. "Yeah."
She paused before taking a step out towards him. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing." He was quick to say. "I'm just-" He choked back a sob and rushed towards the stairs. "I'm just tired. I'm gonna go lay down."
"Oh, Stanley-"
But he didn’t want to hear it. He took two steps at a time to reach his room as quickly as he could. He didn’t want her to worry and dote over him. He didn’t want her to hug him. And he definitely didn't want to cry in front of her.
When he reached his room he immediately holed himself inside, locking the door to make sure he was left alone, falling to his knees next to his dresser and pulling the drawer open. He didn’t bother being careful when digging through it, just wanting to be quick. He pulled out the bottle of Jameson again, this time finishing off the bottle. The burning warmth only distracted him for a moment, but it wasn’t enough. It was never enough.
With a shuddery sigh, he pushed himself to stand and went over to his bed without bothering to change. He crawled under his covers once again, letting its warmth and darkness envelop him.
He squeezed his eyes shut and put his pillow over his head, trying to induce drowsiness once more. He wanted to get away so badly. Go to sleep and just forget about everything, even just for a moment.
Because nothing bad ever happens when you're sleeping.
Summary: It was only meant to be a stupid game of dares, 'The King's Game.' But, of course, nothing could go Stan's way. Cartman thought it would be hilarious to get under everyone's skin with his stupid dare and he did. Now, Stan had no way of getting back with Wendy because he was stuck with this dare.
Butters didn't care too much about the dare in its entirety. Stan was a cool guy and maybe they could get closer. He didn't see anything wrong with this dare from Eric. But, oh boy, if his parents knew, he'd sure be grounded. After this dare ends, he and Stan could still be friends, right?
What was the dare?:
Stan and Butters were forced to date for two months.
~~~
Butters woke up the next morning to a banging on his door. He was startled for a moment but he immediately knew who it was and why they were waking him so forcefully. He forced himself up from his bed as fast as he could and moved to open his bedroom door to reveal his ill-tempered father. “Good mornin’, dad.”
"You already know how this goes, Butters." He held out a piece of paper, which he took before his father could get mad again. "Your mother has already gone off to work and I have… some business to attend to. I expect everything to be done by the time we get back. Is that understood?"
"Yes, sir." He knew that his father's ‘business’ was just an excuse to go fulfill his homoerotic fantasies while his mother was distracted. He would be gone for hours, leaving Butters to do all the work, but that wasn't unusual for him.
"Good." He turned on his heel without saying anything else. Or anything to him at least because he was muttering under his breath about how unlucky he was to have a son like him. Butters was used to it at this point, but that didn't make the words sting any less.
Butters sighed as he scanned through the list, knowing that it was going to be a long day ahead. His father had handed him a list of rooms, though he might as well just have told him to clean the entire house. Well, if he gets started now, he can just spend the rest of his day wallowing in his room. He was quick to change out of his pajamas and into some comfortable clothes, not that he had much.
He decided to start in the kitchen, washing the dishes and wiping down the counters. He didn’t mind doing these things, but when he reached the pantry, he remembered his hatred for it. Alphabetizing the pantry was so tedious, especially when he knew his father would purposely put things back in the wrong place and blame it on him in the end.
This had taken most of his time, looking through each letter. When he had finished with the ‘N’s, he heard his cell phone begin to vibrate and ring. It was the scheduled phone call from one of his parents. On the hour, every hour, until one of them came home. His mom more likely, his father would always call the home phone.
He pulled out his phone, sighing before picking up. “Hi, mom!”
“Oh, hello, Butters.” She always sounded bored when doing these calls. Maybe she hated doing them as much as he did. “Do you have the list your father made?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Okay, what are you doing?”
“I’m finishing up the kitchen right now.”
“Okay, well you make sure you finish up before me and your father get home.”
He rolled his eyes. “Yes, ma’am.” As soon as he had replied, she hung up. He scoffed and placed his phone back into his pocket. Both of his parents always acted as if he wasn’t grounded every other day and he somehow forgot what he was supposed to do.
He finished up the pantry before finishing off the rest of the kitchen and moving on to the living room. He was quick to pick up the scattered magazines and books and arrange the sofa cushions. The vacuuming took a bit of time, but overall still wasn’t as time-consuming as the kitchen was.
It wasn't long until he finished the first floor, but he was already too exhausted to do anything else. He was just so tired of seemingly always spend every moment of his days cleaning. Before heading upstairs to finish off his list, he decided to eat a quick snack so he wouldn’t run hungry.
The bathroom, the hallway, and his room were left.
Deciding to go in that order, he trudged his way upstairs. He was almost done. Soon he wouldn’t have to worry and enjoy his day off until his parents came back. He sighed as he reached the bathroom; He hated doing the bathroom. It was always the worst part of his cleaning duties. He dreaded having to scrub the toilet bowl and clean the shower tiles. But he knew he had to get it done, so he took a deep breath and got to work.
He moved towards the counter to start cleaning it off but when he began to do that, he noticed something that made his heart begin to beat faster.
His mother's makeup.
She usually locked it away in her room after she finished using it but she must have been in a rush today. He felt his skin begin to crawl - that's usually how it started. He had to force the thoughts away for his own sanity for so long. Or at least for the last few months he hasn't allowed himself what he desired. But… his parents weren’t home… and it’s not like it was his fault his mom made this mistake. He shook his head to try to get rid of the thoughts. Oh, but he shouldn’t. He picked up the bag to move it, trying to avoid looking at it for too long. Oh… but who’s going to stop him? His parents were out, and his day was just beginning.
Giddy energy flowed through his veins as he placed the bag down and began to dig through the makeup bag. It wasn’t much for a full look. mostly stuff for eyes; mascara and eyeliners. His mother wasn’t one for eyeshadows. He pulled out what he needed and leaned closer to the mirror and got to work.
Primer was first, he coated his eyes with the substance, careful not to overdo it. He then began to outline his eyes, focusing on the outer corner. Then he did the lower lash line and connected the line before filling it in. Next, he pulled out the mascara and brushed his lashes, focusing on volumizing the corner.
He stepped back and admired his work, checking his eyes to make sure they were even. It was his favorite look to do - the puppy eyeliner. But as he stood there, admiring his reflection, a wave of guilt washed over him. He wasn't supposed to be doing this. His parents would be furious if they found out. But he couldn't help it. He loved the way the makeup made him feel. The way it seemed to transform him into someone else entirely.
He shook his head, trying to push the guilt aside. Instead, he took in a breath to replace it with confidence. His parents weren’t home, he had the free will to do anything. Well, to an extent at least. Though… how are they going to know if he still got his chores done?
Throwing all caution to the wind, he decided to do what he wanted. He can play any of his video games on his computer. He can play his 'devil's' music as loud as he wants. He can be who he wanted to be. He can even go out, though this was riskier. But… just as long as he was back and all his chores were done, his parents never knew. Butters thought for a moment to get himself mentally ready to break the rules. He’s done it many times before, but it never settled his anxiety any less.
Feeling a new sense of resolution, he began to put away his mother’s makeup before leaving the bathroom. Opening the door to his parents’ room, he slipped inside, stepping lightly as if any noise would cause them to run back home and catch him. He reached the dresser where his mother would keep a box to store her makeup away from his reach. He tried to open it to put the bag in there, but it was locked. Instead, he carefully placed the makeup bag next to the box, hoping his mother would think that she had accidentally left it there in the first place.
As he moved to leave the room, he froze when he saw the door to their closet open. The devil on his and the angel on his shoulder began to whisper from his shoulders.
He could fit into his mother’s clothes. The devil hissed.
He can feel more attuned to who he is. And the angel coaxed.
He began to rub his fists nervously as he stepped closer. Well, he did need a 'disguise' if he was going out. He tried convincing himself. He looked around the room, scared to see if his parents would suddenly appear. His heart was pounding hard by the time he reached their closet. With a shaky hand, he pulled open the door to reveal the rest of the clothing inside. Butters' eyes widened slightly as he saw the array of different clothes that were hung up inside. Dresses, blouses, skirts, and even a few pairs of heels were on display. He gulped nervously, hesitating for a moment before making his decision.
Butters slowly reached out to touch the different fabrics, feeling the softness between his fingers. He couldn't shake off the nagging feeling of guilt, but the thrill of doing something he wasn't supposed to was too much to resist. He pulled out one of his mom’s skirts, one of her signature purple ones. It was easier to hide when his mother did the laundry. He began to undress himself before slipping the skirt over his hips. It was a little tight on him, even when he tried to lift it to his waist, but he didn’t want to try to loosen it and tear it by accident.
He looked back in the closet to see what else he could use to add to his outfit. He began to chew on his bottom lip as he tried to look as fast as he could. His time would run out soon. He ducked and leaned back to widen his view and that’s when he saw a box on the top shelf. He squinted and leaned closer to see what it was. He saw that it was a shoe box, the little picture of what it held inside showing him that they were low-heeled boots. It might be the pair his mother had ordered in the wrong size. She must’ve forgotten to return it.
He reached up to grab the box to get a closer look at them, but some sort of bag tumbled off and landed in front of him. He leaned down to pick it up but froze for a moment when he realized what it was.
Looks like the universe was finally on his side today. He picked up the bag and opened it. It was a blonde wig. He remembered his mother complaining about how her hair was beginning to thin. She must’ve ordered the wig to hide that. Feeling another wave of giddiness run through his body, he pulled it out, feeling the softness of it. Oh, how he missed this feeling. After taking a moment, he placed it off to the side for now and decided to check out the shoes. He opened the box to reveal the black booties that were stored away. He sat on their bed and pulled them on to see how they fit. He twirled his ankle with a frown. They were a little too big, but they would have to do. He pulled on the other shoe before standing and walking back over to the closet. After looking through the closet once more, he figured he didn’t need a top from here, he could use one of his own. He quickly dug through the clothing and pulled out a black coat. Moving back over to the dresser, he opened his mother’s jewelry box and looked through his options before choosing a matching silver and black set. He made sure to grab the wig and his clothing before returning to his room to find a top.
He was buzzing with excitement. He placed everything on his bed before pulling out a white turtleneck from his drawer. He pulled it over his head, careful to avoid his eyes, and tucked it into the skirt before adding his accessories. Now it was time for the wig. He brushed his hair back and put it on, adjusting it as best as he could without looking at his reflection.
Nerves suddenly flooded through his veins. What if someone saw and recognized him? What if his parents came home early? All the thrill and excitement he felt before suddenly vanished, replaced by a sense of panic and anxiety. But he couldn't back out now, he had already gone too far. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath to calm himself. When he opened them, he was once again determined to go through with it. He grabbed his phone, headphones, wallet, and home key before slipping out of his room and into the hallway. Steeling himself, he made his way toward the bathroom. He took another breath and turned on the light, stepping in front of the mirror.
And there she was. Marjorine - the name he took when he dressed this way or felt particularly more feminine.
It was like she was looking at a completely new person, though she knew that wasn’t the case.
She began to fix her hair so it framed her face better, staring at herself. The wig wasn't exactly her taste, it was long and honey-colored, but she wasn't allowed to grow her hair out or buy her own at the moment.
She couldn't help but stare at herself as she adjusted the wig. This was the first time she had dressed up like this in months. It felt like she was coming back to life after being stuck in a drab existence for so long. She felt the thrill of the forbidden course through her once again, energizing her like nothing else. She couldn't wait to feel the rush of adrenaline that came with going out in public like this again.
She felt her eyes sting and she took a breath to stop herself from becoming emotional to prevent her makeup from being ruined. She was so happy to dress like this again even if it wasn't her usual style. She posed, blowing a kiss at her reflection before laughing at how ridiculous she was being.
She really loved this part of herself, though she had to hide it away ever since her mom had found the clothes she kept for these times. She remembered it like it was yesterday. She had received the lashing of a lifetime that day. Her mother was snooping around in her room and found the clothes she had hidden away, apparently not good enough. So, of course, she had put two and two together and told his father, which made him livid. Her father yelling at her was engraved into her brain.‘You’re not a girl! Boys don’t dress like girls!’ But she was a girl, just as much as she was a boy. Even if her parents tore up and threw away all her belongings, it didn’t change that fact. Now she was given sets of specific clothing, ones that her parents chose for her. All of them pointedly masculine, and only masculine. Nothing she owned was by her own choice.
Though they may have taken away what little she had to express herself, she knew that one day she would finally be able to get out of this nightmare of a town and nobody will be able to stop her. She refused to let her parents' narrow-mindedness bring her down.
She took a step back from the mirror, smoothing out the clothes and adjusting her poses to admire her outfit. She couldn’t help but feel proud of the person she saw in the reflection. She was brave enough to be who she truly was, even if she had to do it in secret. She knew it wasn't fair that she had to hide this part of herself, but for now, it was the only way she could be true to herself without facing the wrath of her parents.
As she was spinning around to let the skirt move to add to her confidence, the phone began to ring from downstairs. She felt her blood run cold as she froze. Her father was calling. Clutching her belongings to her chest, she left the bathroom and rushed to the phone downstairs.
She cleared her throat and picked up, trying her best to not sound nervous. "Stotch Residence."
"Butters! You're working on your list?'
"Yes, sir, I am. I’m workin’ on the bathroom right now."
"Good good. You better not be lying and goofing off. I will be checking everything, you remember that."
"Yes, sir, I know. I'm not goofin' off."
"Good, you go hurry and finish up now."
"Okay, bye, dad." Her father hung up without responding.
Now, it was time. She only had approximately two hours and counting until she needed to be back home. Her time was limited and she needed to leave now. She rushed to grab her belongings and moved quickly. She made it to the front door and paused, checking her reflection in the mirror hanging on the wall. The wig looked good and the makeup was still intact. She gave herself an encouraging smile before opening the door and stepping outside. The cool air hit her face, and she took a deep breath to really take it all in before starting her way down the sidewalk, knowing exactly where she wanted to go.
As she walked down the street, she felt a sense of freedom that she hadn't felt in a long time. The wind felt good against her skin, and the music in her ears drowned out all her worries. It was as if she was living in a different world, a world where she didn't have to worry about her parents and their constant rules. She couldn't help but feel a sense of rebellion wash over her. She had always tried to be the perfect child, doing everything her parents asked of her, but now she was finally doing something for herself. Something that made her feel alive.
She smiled shyly at the people she passed, walking with a purpose. She just needed to be in and out and her parents would never know. She kept reminding herself. She couldn’t let herself get too carried away.
Finally, she arrived at her destination: Tweek Bros. Coffeehouse. She took a deep breath and pushed open the door as she took out her headphones, the little bell announcing her arrival. The store was quiet, with only a few other customers seated at the cafe. She felt a sense of relief wash over her as she realized she wouldn't be drawing too much attention to herself as she waited in line. It wasn’t like she didn’t want people to know, it was just too reckless to have too many people knowing this about her.
Only a few close people knew this about her. Kenny, Nichole, Wendy, and-
“Marjorine?”
She felt her stomach drop as she turned to see Heidi who let out a small gasp as she got closer. "Oh, it is you! How are you?" Heidi opened her arms for a hug and Marjorine returned it. “I thought you were going back to Texas,” She said as she took in her appearance. “I love this look, by the way.”
Marjorine looked down at what she was wearing, smiling. "Aw, thank you. I'm doing swell!" She tried thinking of something quick. "We decided to come back and stay a little longer. My classes are online anyways so I figured it wouldn’t hurt."
Heidi clasped her hands together. "Really? For how long? Maybe you can stay at my place."
"Oh, I-I'm not too sure. My mom likes to travel a lot, y'know. Maybe a week, maybe a month." She shrugged, hoping it was a good enough excuse to avoid suspicion.
Somebody scoffed from behind them. “Can you two hurry up?”
Heidi’s face dropped, now void of any emotion, as she turned to the man that stood with his arms crossed, dressed in a black suit. “We aren’t done.”
“Oh, I haven’t decided what I want yet,” Marjorine added.
“And she hasn't decided what she wanted.” She rolled her eyes. “We aren’t even in line! What are you waiting for?” She turned back to her and smiled, acting as though nothing happened. “Why don’t we spend the day together?”
The man behind them muttered under his breath angrily but walked around them.
"I'm sorry, Heidi, I'm in a bit of a rush."
“Oh, come on. We can catch up with each other! I haven’t seen you in so long! I’ll even pay for your drink.”
She looked at the clock hung on the wall. She had about forty-five minutes until her mother would call. "Oh, just for a little bit then."
Heidi beamed with excitement and locked her arms with hers. “Oh, goodie! I can’t wait to catch up with you. There was so much going on the last time I saw you.”
“Right,” she let out a small laugh. “I might’ve gotten a little carried away.”
“I know! I’ve never seen you that drunk before. You were wild!” Heidi gripped her arm with radiating excitement. “We should do it again!”
Marjorine waved the suggestion off. “Nah, I shouldn’t. I might’ve gone a little overboard. I-I should watch myself.”
“Oh, alright,” she said with a pout. “But if you ever want to do it again, you can always call me. I can set everything up with the girls.”
“Of course, you’ll be the first person I’ll call.”
The man in front of them moved and they stepped forward together, now face-to-face with a familiar twitching teen. Even more so than he usually was. He yelped when he made eye contact with the two of them. “Gah! W-welcome to Tweek Bros.… what can I get started for you?”
“Hi, Tweek. I’ll have a vanilla latte with oat milk, small,” Heidi started.
Tweek nodded, hand shaking as he typed in her order. "And for you?" He asked, looking up at her.
"Oh, um, I'll get a small mocha cappuccino, please."
“Oh…kay.” Tweek’s eyebrows furrowed and his head tilted as he watched her, eyes wide.
Feeling her stomach flutter with nerves, she turned away from him. “I’m gonna go find us a seat," she told Heidi, who nodded and let her arm go.
She took a quick glance around the shop before deciding on a small table in the corner of the shop. She pulled off her coat and set it on the back of her chair before sitting down. Immediately, she went to the comfort of rubbing her knuckles as she waited, anxious. She was supposed to stay for only a moment. She had to be extra careful with her time now. Oh, bad Marjorine!
After a few long minutes of self-chastising, Heidi came to the table with both of their drinks. "You have to tell me everything. What's been going on with you?"
Marjorine fidgeted in her seat, feeling a sense of guilt for not being able to tell Heidi the truth. "Well, uh, not much, just tryin' to keep up with school and stuff at home," She told her before taking a sip of her drink, savoring the chocolatey taste.
Heidi leaned in, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. "And what about boys? Have you met anyone special yet?"
Marjorine felt her face heat up at the question. "N-no, not really," she stammered out.
Heidi tilted her head with a knowing smirk, her eyebrows raised. "Are you sure? You seem a little pink."
This made her cheeks and ears grow warmer, which made Heidi giggle.
She couldn't bring herself to tell Heidi the truth, so she decided to… embellish it a bit. "Well," she cleared her throat. "There is this one boy…"
Heidi gasped before she could continue. “Is he cute?”
Marjorine brought her hand up to try to cover her continuously darkening face. “V-very.”
Heidi leaned in closer, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Do tell."
Marjorine took another sip of her drink, gathering her thoughts. “He's in one of my classes and we've been talking a lot lately. He's really funny and kind and… cute." She felt herself blush even harder as she spoke.
Heidi’s eyes crinkled as she smiled. "Wow, that’s really nice! What’s his name?"
"Um, his name is...Steven," she said, coming up with a name on the spot, though almost giving it away.
Heidi squealed with delight, clapping her hands together. "Oh my gosh, this is so exciting! Have you gone on a date yet?"
“Um… Not yet,” she decided to avoid revealing anything close to the truth, “but we’ve been talking about it.”
She nodded, taking a sip of her own drink. "Well, you have to introduce me to him sometime if all goes well!"
Marjorine chuckled, feeling a little more at ease. "I will, I promise."
Heidi let out a small sigh. “I’m so happy for you, Marjorine. You deserve someone who will treat you right.”
There was a comfortable silence between them for a moment before Marjorine decided to speak. "So," she paused as she took another sip of her coffee. "Anythin' new with you? Any boys?" She asked in a teasing tone to get back at her.
"Oh… well… not with me, I guess."
She furrowed her eyebrows. "What do you mean?"
Heidi sighed as she traced her finger on her cup. She stayed quiet for a moment longer before saying quietly, "One of my friends started dating the boy that I like."
Marjorine's heart sank as she listened to the confession. She could only imagine the hurt and disappointment her friend was feeling. "I'm so sorry, Heidi. That must be really hard for you."
Heidi gave her a sad smile. "It's okay. I mean, I don't own him or anything. It just sucks, you know?"
She nodded. "Yeah, I get it. But there are plenty of other guys out there. You'll find someone even better."
She shrugged. "Maybe. But right now, I just feel like I'll never find someone I like as much as him."
Marjorine reached over and placed a comforting hand over hers. "You will, I promise. And maybe you should drop your friend. What they did goes against girls' code."
"Oh, no, he didn't know."
He?
"I'm… happy for him. I really am, but it still hurts. I mean, I thought we would hit it off if we tried. You remember Stan, right?" Marjorine felt her stomach turn into lead as she forced a smile and nodded. "We sit next to each other in Life Science. I'd like to think that we get along really well. And we even have some things in common! Did you know he's a vegetarian? I'm a vegan, which is different, but even then, if we were to get together, we could work on each other's food preferences. And he’s a dog person like me! Have you met his dog yet? He’s such a cutie!" Heidi rambled on, her eyes distant as she spoke of the boy she liked. “It’s not just that, though. He can be really sweet and kind and funny… and I feel like Wendy just took him for granted sometimes, you know?"
Marjorine took another sip of her coffee so she wouldn't have to respond. She knew exactly who she was talking about and it was going to be hard to play dumb.
"Maybe that's why they broke up. I never really pegged him for someone who's into guys." She shrugged. "I wouldn't care though. He's an absolute dream." She finished with a blissful sigh.
Marjorine stared down at her cup, trying to find something, anything to say in response to this. She went back to tracing her knuckles. It was like a bad case of deja vu. “Well…” She chose her words carefully. “I'm sure Stan’s not as perfect as you’re making him out to be.”
Heidi was quiet for a moment. “Well… yeah, I know that. But there’s nothing wrong with that.” Marjorine looked up and locked eyes with her. Her face was hardened. “Just as long as I think he is, I don’t think that matters.”
Marjorine felt a warmth run through her body and she gave her a small smile. “Right. I-I’m sorry.” She took another sip and tried biting back other comments she had. “There’s nothin’ wrong with that.”
Marjorine knew the feeling she currently felt very well. It was jealousy. She was jealous to know that she wasn’t the only one that had been pining over the ravenette. She was even more jealous to know that Heidi was right. She was sure that if Stan had to choose between herself and the girl sitting across from her, he would choose Heidi. She was really pretty after all. They did have a lot of things in common and a relationship between them would probably work out… And knowing this only hurt her.
She knew she had no right to be so… possessive over Stan. But it wasn’t fair that she still felt like had to compete with someone else, just to most likely lose in the end. And with the chance she had right now with this dare, she wanted to be as close to him as she could before it was all over.
Her phone began to vibrate in her pocket with the jingle she had set it to. She jumped in her seat and pulled it out, seeing her mother’s contact photo. “Oh! Um, I-I have to take this,” she quickly told Heidi before leaving the table and running to the bathroom.
She locked herself into the single bathroom and picked up. “Hello?” Her voice was higher than usual due to nerves.
“Hello, Butters. How’s everything going with your chores?”
“Good,” she cleared her throat and began to pace the small room, “it’s going good, ma’am. I’m going through the list just like dad told me to.”
“Alright, then. I should be-”
A loud flush resounded and Marjorine froze. She had walked a little too close to the toilet and it automatically went off.
“What was that?”
“Oh, uh, th-that was- I’m trying to finish the bathroom.”
“Well, Butters, I’m talking to you right now. That’s a bit rude!”
“I’m sorry, mom.”
“Ma’am!”
“I-I’m sorry, ma’am,” she quickly corrected.
She huffed in annoyance but continued on. “I should be done early today. Remember, Butters, if you’re not finished with that list, you’ll be grounded up until next week.” She said before hanging up.
Marjorine’s breath quickened as nerves ran through her body. She needed to leave. Now! She fumbled with the door before pulling it open and leaving the bathroom. She tried not to draw attention to herself as she rushed over to the table she was previously seated at.
Heidi noticed her panic. “Hey, what’s wrong?”
She pulled on her coat and began to button it up. “I’m sorry, Heidi. I-I have to go. My mom wants me back.”
“Oh, that’s a shame.”
She pulled out her wallet to pull out what little cash she had from her weekly allowances. Well, weekly as long as she behaved. “Here. For my drink.”
She waved it away. “It’s fine. Just make sure you text me more often, yeah?”
She nodded. “Yeah. See you, Heidi.”
“See you.”
She gave her a small hug before rushing out of the coffee shop. As Marjorine stepped out into the chilly autumn air, she took a deep breath and tried to calm her racing heart. She walked as fast as she could without slipping on the sidewalk. She wasn’t far. She could make it home and take everything off just in case.
She passed by the variety of buildings on the main street, trying to focus only on getting home. She tried to ignore the people around her, but as she passed by the hand-down retail store, she froze when she heard a wolf whistle. "Damn, little girly, you come around here often? How about we head back to my place and have some fun?”
She turned to the voice, ready to snap at them for being so vulgar, but stopped and rolled her eyes when it was a familiar blonde clad in his work uniform. "Ken, don't do that!"
Kenny laughed. "How're you doing, darlin'?"
“I’m fine,” She replied stiffly.
Kenny raised an eyebrow. “You don’t sound fine. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” She turned and began to walk again. “I have to get home.”
She heard him begin to follow and she rolled her eyes. “I thought they took your clothes,” he said as he bumped her shoulder with his.
“They did take my clothes. These are my mom’s.”
“Oh.” She felt his hand wrap around her shoulder and she glanced at him for a moment before keeping her gaze steady forward. "Look, I wanted to talk to you."
Marjorine clenched her jaw. "I have to get back home,” She repeated.
“I don’t want us to fight anymore.”
“Well, that isn’t my fault. Now, is it?”
“You’re right. I just…” He went quiet.
"What are you doing over here anyway?"
"I was walking Karen to work. Then I was gonna hang around until my shift starts."
“Well, you’ve done that. Now leave me alone.”
“How could I leave such a beautiful thing to just walk past me like that?" He joked, giving her an exaggerated wink.
Marjorine gave him a skeptical look. He always did this; hiding behind jokes. She kept on walking, not allowing herself to give in to respond to him.
"Oh, c’mon! Not even a little smile?”
“No.”
“Just… talk to me.” He grabbed her arm to stop her from walking any further. “Please.”
“Oh, so you only want me to talk because you’re ready to?”
“No! Marjorine, please."
She paused, her face scrunching up as she pulled her arm away. She hated the warmth she felt from him saying her name - something that she should be used to by now. "What?"
She watched as Kenny fumbled over nonexistent words. "I, um, I just-" He let out a frustrated sigh. He stopped and just looked up at her, staying silent. His ocean-blue eyes wavering as time passed slowly.
Refusing to read his apology through his eyes, she scoffed and turned to leave. "I don't have time for this, Ken! I have to get home before-" She slipped on a patch of ice, making her yelp as she fell backwards.
Luckily, Kenny was able to catch her just in time before she hit the ground and ruined her clothes. "Careful, don't need you falling for me again," he said with a light chuckle as he carefully pulled her up.
But Marjorine didn't find it amusing. She felt her face grow warm as she tore herself away from him. "Will you stop it already!?" Kenny flinched. "You always do this, Ken! You make jokes and pretend that the problem disappears, but it doesn't!"
He sputtered as he put his hands up in defense. “I-I just worry.”
“And I can handle myself.”
“I know! I know you can!”
“Then why do you treat me like you don’t?”
Kenny didn’t reply. He looked down at his feet instead.
This made Marjorine feel bad. Kenny was one of her closest friends and she didn't want to fight anymore. But, dear God, was he stubborn with his emotions.
“Kenny…” Marjorine sighed, trying to figure out the best way to say what she thought. “You don’t always have to be the hero, y’know.”
“I-I know, I just-”
“I don’t think you do.”
He was silent again. His eyes haven't left the ground.
Her face softened and she reached forward to tug his jacket to have him follow her as she continued her way back home. She kept her grip on his arm as he kept his gaze downward.
"It's a good thing, y'know. But everyone who you care about doesn't need you to hover around. Not me, not Karen…" She noticed his shoulders begin to droop. She was probably making him feel worse. She moved her hand to his shoulder. "Ken… I think you might have a savior complex."
He finally looked up at her, eyebrows furrowed. "Savior complex? I don't have-"
"I'm not sayin' that it's a bad thing. It's great you want to help people. But sometimes that's all you do. I don't need you to be protectin' me all the time and you don't need to involve yourself in everythin'. It's gonna end up doin' you more harm than good." She noticed the corner of his mouth twitch. "Sometimes, other people aren't your priority. Okay, Ken?"
He nodded.
"If… if somethin' happens, I'll tell you. And you can help me all you want. But you gotta promise me to stop puttin' yourself in the middle."
Kenny’s mouth quirked up into a small smile. "Okay."
"Thank you." She was relieved.
She noticed Kenny begin to lean forward to press a kiss onto her cheek like he usually did, but she took a step back. His eyebrows twitched upward, but he didn't say anything.
"You can't do that anymore, Ken. What if Eric finds out?"
A frown etched onto his face. “It’s not like they’ll know.”
“Yeah, but you’re with Tweek.” The light in Kenny’s eyes dimmed when she said this. “And I’m supposed to be with Stan.”
“It’s not even real, Marji…”
Well, it's real to me.
It's what she wanted to say, but she knew it would've been bad. Both for her delusions and his feelings.
"I'm sorry, Ken."
He only shrugged. "It's fine."
Her house came into view, and luckily no cars were pulled into the driveway to warn her of her demise. She quickened her steps and reached the door. Marjorine unlocked the door and pushed it open, extending an arm. "Go on, but don't go makin' a mess. I need to finish cleaning before my parents get home."
"Why'd they ground you this time anyways?" He asked as he walked past her.
"I came back home after my curfew," she answered as she closed the door. She quickly went up the stairs, Kenny following close behind, and grabbed the clothes she previously wore before she decided to go awol. "Me and Stan went to see the meteor shower together." She went into her parents’ room and began to remove everything that wasn’t hers.
Kenny leaned against the doorway as he watched her undress and hide away the clothes she took from her mother.
As she pulled off the turtleneck to replace it with her earlier t-shirt, Kenny cleared his throat. “Does he know?”
It took her a moment to figure out who he was talking about. "Of course he doesn't know."
He shifted in his place. "I think you should tell him." Marjorine furrowed her eyebrows and Kenny held up his arms in defense. "I just think he'd be there when you need him for times like these."
She gave a huff of annoyance as she carefully replaced everything back to where they originally were. "I'll be fine. It isn't something for you to decide anyways."
"I know… but I know how much it bothers you too."
She shook her head. "It would bother him."
“Stan isn’t like that, he won’t care."
"Right, the same way he doesn't care about 'dating' me?"
"If you won't let me indulge in my 'savior complex,' like you say I have." He used air quotes as he said this. "Then you should let Stan help you."
“Right, replace one with the other. You both are just as bad as the other."
Kenny laughed at this. "You don't have to do it. It's just a suggestion. But I do really think he would help, as dense as he is."
She fiddled with the earrings for a moment as she took them off. "But… he was real mad when I tried holding his hand and stuff."
He rolled his eyes. "He's an idiot, but he doesn't care. He only cares when it's himself."
"What if he doesn't understand?"
"You know how he is. Even if he doesn't understand, he'll still try to help. You're still his friend."
Right, just his friend. “Are you two gonna get along again?” Kenny pressed his lips together at this question. "You're really just mad at him on my behalf and you don't need to do all that."
"I’m not even really mad anymore. Just more… annoyed. He hasn't even apologized."
"Yes, he has." Kenny glanced at her. "He needed to be sorry to me, not you. Has he done anything to you to be sorry for?" He stayed quiet.
She moved passed him and into the bathroom. "Can you help me, Ken?" She heard him follow close behind as they both entered the small room. "I need to make sure there's no more makeup." She told him as she turned on the light and turned to the mirror.
She looked at herself for a long moment, trying to soak in the image of herself before it went away.
“Are you ready?”
She sighed and forced herself to look away as she took off the wig. "Yeah…" She moved to sit down on the toilet seat and waited as Kenny pulled out a makeup wipe from under the sink.
"Okay, darlin', close your eyes for me."
She did as he said and let him remove the makeup. Kenny was gentle with the wipe, not pressing too hard on her eye, but he went over it again and again.
"Look at me." She opened her eyes and looked up at him as he inspected her eyes. He would carefully wipe away any excess that remained. "There we are. All done."
All done… back to being seen as only 'Butters,' the kid they can use and push around. Back to hiding away a piece of himself. She felt her eyes well up with tears and she covered her face to hide it.
“Oh, don’t cry.”
“I hate it here.”
“I know.” She felt Kenny wrap his arms around her, pressing his lips to her temple.
"I want to leave."
He hushed soothingly and rubbed her back. "I know you do. You're so close. Only a few more months and we can leave. Wherever you want to, yeah?"
Marjorine only nodded, her sobs making her unable to speak anymore.
She continued to cry as Kenny tried to soothe her. Whispering reassurances and rubbing her back as he held her. Kenny was always so kind and understanding. He knew every little thing about her, including how to calm her down.
She felt so bad for ending things with him, but she knew she would've felt worse if she had continued their relationship when she knew her feelings had changed.
Marjorine couldn't help her thoughts from bursting out as she looked at him. "I'm sorry, Ken. I-I didn't want to… my feelings…" She wiped at her face. "You deserve-" She couldn't finish her sentence as another sob racked through her.
Kenny leaned forward with a smile and this time she didn't move so he could place a kiss on her cheek. "I understand. I'll still love you," her heart sank, "whether you're my friend or my partner." He told her as he handed her a tissue.
"I'm sorry," she mumbled as she
"It's okay, Marji."
They stayed silent after that. Marjorine slowly starting to become calm and wiping the rest of her tears away.
Kenny gave her a final hug before taking a step back with a crooked smile. "You think you'll be alright?"
She nodded. "I can distract myself. I still have to finish cleaning."
"Do you want me to check on you after work?"
She shook her head.
"Okay… I'll talk to Stan… and I'll try not to butt in between you two if he does something stupid. Unless you tell me to, of course."
Marjorine pressed her lips together and nodded again.
"I should go before your parents get back. I have to get to work."
"Yeah."
He winked and backed out of the bathroom. "See ya, sweet cheeks."
She rolled her eyes at this with a smile. "See ya, Ken." She listened as he went down the stairs and left, the front door opening and closing.
She sat by herself in the bathroom, trying to urge herself to get up and finish cleaning. But she was just so stressed and in need of a break. Just a little break. She sighed and closed her eyes, leaning against the toilet, letting the silence ease her mind.
Though, the silence didn't last long. The house phone began to ring and she opened her eyes, flinching at the bright lights of the bathroom. Her father was calling again. Her break didn't last as long as she wanted it to, but maybe that was for the best. She took a deep breath. She had to keep it hidden again, only for a little longer, like Kenny had said. She moved to go downstairs towards the ringing. She made sure the door was locked and moved to the phone. She picked it up, just on time. “Stotch Residence.”
Summary: It was only meant to be a stupid game of dares, 'The King's Game.' But, of course, nothing could go Stan's way. Cartman thought it would be hilarious to get under everyone's skin with his stupid dare and he did. Now, Stan had no way of getting back with Wendy because he was stuck with this dare.
Butters didn't care too much about the dare in its entirety. Stan was a cool guy and maybe they could get closer. He didn't see anything wrong with this dare from Eric. But, oh boy, if his parents knew, he'd sure be grounded. After this dare ends, he and Stan could still be friends, right?
What was the dare?:
Stan and Butters were forced to date for two months.
~~~
When Butters awoke that morning, he was buzzing with excitement. Today was the day he got to go on a date with Stan! He was sure Cartman was forcing him to do this, but why should it matter? He could finally be alone with him without the pressure of intrigued eyes. He felt jittery as he grabbed his clothes and towel. He just felt like today was going to be good.
He left his room with his clothes for the day and almost immediately hopped into the shower when he entered the bathroom. He began to shower himself and wet his hair for the day, humming a song as he did so. Once he finished, he turned off the water and stepped out, reaching for his towel. He began to pat himself dry and pull on his clothes before brushing his teeth, playing around with the wet excess of hair at the middle of his head. He started to towel-dry his hair and spray a bit of leave-in conditioner so it could soften and fluff once it had dried.
He left the bathroom, running his hands through his hair, and moved back to his room to finish getting himself ready. He grabbed a pair of his dress shoes to pull them on along with his turquoise sweater to go over his usual dress shirt. He made sure to disconnect his phone from its charger and he grabbed his bag before making sure everything in his room was either clean or safely put away before leaving to head down the stairs. He placed his bag next to the front door before heading over to the kitchen.
And now for breakfast. He stood in the middle of the room, deciding what to do for the morning. He slowly began to look around the pantry and cabinets to find something to fill him up for the moment. Why not have a good breakfast to ensure a good day?
He opened the refrigerator and looked around to see what they had. A small container of blueberries caught his eye and an idea of what to make popped into his head. Blueberry pancakes. He began to grab the ingredients to make the dish, also including eggs and bacon. He laid out the ingredients across the counter and began to work his “magic.” He wasn’t ever good at making sweets or baking in general, but what could he say to that? Practice makes perfect.
He hummed his go-to song he sang when focused on a task, letting his mind drift all the while. Thoughts of what could be, perhaps what should be. A happy, normal family. He would definitely cook for his future wife or husband. Surprise them every once in a while with breakfast in bed. And kids. He would also want kids, whether they're biologically related to him or not. Whenever it happened, he was sure he was going to try to be the best father he could be. He wondered for a brief moment what Stan would want. Would he want him to cook or would he try for himself? Does he want kids like Butters did? If they could have kids, what would they look like, how would they act? Would they be following his footsteps or the ravenette’s?
He felt himself become embarrassed. Why was he thinking about that? He's acting as if they've been together for years. It's only been a week, not even, and they aren't even really dating, it's supposed to be an act. God, he was acting like a lovesick schoolgirl.
The sound of footsteps sounded and he stood straight, waiting to find out which parent was awake. “Butters? What are you doing?”
He finished flipping the pancake he was working on and looked at his mom standing at the doorway of the kitchen, struggling with placing an earring through her earlobe. He flashed her a smile. “Mornin’, Mom. I made you some breakfast for you before you go to work.”
“Oh, Butters, that’s so sweet, but-”
“They’re blueberry,” he told her softly. “Your favorite.”
A thoughtful look passed her face and she hummed. “Well, I’m sure one plate won’t hurt."
He smiled and finished cooking the rest of the food for their breakfast. He set up her plate first before setting it down in front of her with her cup of coffee before working on his father's and then his own. He placed his plate at his spot on the table and covered his father’s plate with aluminum to keep it warm before seating himself to start eating for himself.
He took a bite and found it to be a bit doughy in texture. He sighed but continued to eat it. He didn’t understand how Tweek got his sweets and desserts perfect over the years. He was a bit jealous of that, to say the least.
“Oh?” He tried not to flinch too hard. “What’s this? Linda, you made breakfast?” He didn’t dare try to correct his father. It would pain him more if he did. His father leaned over and placed a kiss on her cheek. “How lovely of you, Sweetie.”
“Actually, Butters made it.” He tried not to look at his parents, or glare at his mother for throwing him under the bus. He chose to keep his stare on his food instead.
He saw his father look at him from the corner of his eye, making him nervous. “Now, Butters, what did I tell you about that?”
He stabbed at the pancake. He didn’t want to look at him because he didn’t agree at all with what he had told him many times before. “That I have to learn to wait for the woman to make the meal because that’s their job.” Simply answering with that left a bitter taste in his mouth.
“Exactly. And now that I think about it, you’ve been cooking for the past week, haven't you?”
He slowly nodded. “Yes, I have, sir.”
"You know you aren't supposed to be doing that. Why do you tempt me so much, Butters? It’s like you want to get into trouble. Is it that you just want to get grounded again? Is that what you want?”
“No, sir.”
“Then why do you still do it?”
Because he wanted to. Because he actually likes to cook. Because he needs to do it to survive. “It was a mist-”
His father slammed his hands down on the table. “Look at me when I am talking to you!” Butters snapped up to look at his father with wide eyes.
“I-I’m sorry, sir. It was a mistake on m-my behalf.”
He huffed and began to unwrap his plate. Butters watched with bated breath as his father tossed the foil aside as he began to eat the food he made. “It's not even that good. You really should stay out of the kitchen and work like a real man.”
He swallowed hard and shoved another bite into his mouth. ‘Don't cry,’ he told himself. ‘Not in front of him.’ “Yes, sir,” he replied after he swallowed what was in his mouth.
“Okay, well, I have to go now.” His mother stood up from the table, leaving her dishes behind. “You two be good now.”
“Have a good day at work, mom.”
Without saying a word back to him, she left. He turned back to his plate and tried to focus on eating, rather than the man who sat across from him. There was a pregnant silence between them aside from the utensils they used clicking against the plates.
“So,” his father started lowly, “what’s the occasion?”
Butters looked up from his food and saw his father staring at him intensely. He tried to smile away his nerves. “I just feel like today’s going to be a good day, is all.”
He raised an eyebrow at him. “Really?”
He nods. “Yes, sir.”
“Butters, don’t you start lying to me now.”
“I’m not, sir. I’m going to be hanging out with one of my friends and I’m excited for it.”
His father’s stare hardened. “Oh, yes. You did tell me about that, didn’t you? Where are you going with this ‘friend?’”
He opened and closed his mouth, not knowing what to say. He didn’t know.
A chime resounded and he had to hold back from noticeably sighing in relief. He saw his father’s eyes flicker toward his phone before setting back on him faster than he could check for himself. He looked at his phone and saw a notification from Stan. “Who is that?”
Butters swallowed and turned off his phone. “One of my friends.” He slowly brought his phone closer to him to try to put it into his pockets, as if moving too fast would immediately put him in danger. “He's outside.” He stood up from his seat, picking up the dishes from the table to set them in the sink. He quickly left the room before his father could say anything about it. He grabbed his bag and opened the door.
“I expect you to be home by nine,” he called out to him.
He hesitated. “Yes, sir.” He closed the door and locked it before quickly making his way to Stan’s car. He tried biting back his overflow of emotions as he opened the passenger door. He hopped inside and clicked on his seatbelt, releasing a shaky sigh.
Stan didn’t make any move to start driving them to school. Instead, he felt a heated gaze directed toward him. Butters wanted to look at him, but he was scared to find out if he was watching him or not.
He cleared his throat. “Aren’t you gonna-”
He heard the unclicking of a seatbelt and, out of the blue, he was suddenly pulled into a hug. He was shocked for a moment, but he was quick to grip Stan’s upper back so he could hold him closer. It was awkward from the positions they were in, but he appreciated the gesture nonetheless. He took in a shaky breath as he held him tighter.
“Hey, hey,” Stan whispered, rubbing his back soothingly. “Everything will be alright.”
Butters relished in the warmth he felt. He sighed blissfully. “How did you know?” He asked quietly.
“You didn’t say ‘good morning’ or anything.” He felt him rub his back again, sending a chill down his spine. Fuck, this felt nice. “Plus, you looked upset.”
He smiled. “Thank you, Stan.” He suddenly remembered his father and how much shit he would be put in if he happened to see the two. He pulled away from him. “We, uh, we should probably start headin’ to school now.”
Stan nodded and clicked his seatbelt back on. "Right." He made no move to drive them. “So… What happened?”
Butters shook his head, not wanting to tell him. He slowly began to revert back to his nervous habit of rubbing his fists together. “It’s nothin’. It’s real dumb anyways.”
“Are you sure?” He nods. “Okay.” He changed the gear of the car and began to drive them to school, a normal pace compared to the day before.
“Stan?” He hummed in response. “Please tell me we’re still goin’ wherever after school.”
“Yeah, of course, dude.”
He nods. “Okay, thank you.”
There was a pause of silence between them.
He heard Stan drum his fingers against the wheel. “Butters, if you want, we could skip school. You look like you could use a break.”
He looked at Stan who was still focused on the road. “That sounds… nice… but my parents would see red when the school calls them.”
“Oh, right. Sorry, my mom doesn’t care as long as she knows where I am.”
Butters forced a smile at that. “Your mom seems real nice and understandin’.”
He smiled. “She is. I'm really grateful she’s like that though.”
Butters paused and began to keep to himself to think for a moment. Then, an unpleasant thought came to his mind. If his parents found out… “Stan?”
“Yeah?”
“I… I wonder if Eric is going to make us meet each other’s parents.”
He was silent for a moment. “God, I honestly hope not. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not you or anything, it’s just…” he drifted off.
“You?” Butters shrugged off the small feeling of hurt he felt and forced a smile. “I wouldn’t want my parents to know about this either.”
The two left the conversation to linger silently between them. Butters didn’t know why he felt the need to ask that. He decided to focus on looking outside the window in the meantime until they reached the school.
When Stan parked in front of their school, Butters made sure to grab his belongings and hop out of the car. He adjusted the strap of his bag on his shoulders. His eyebrows knitted together and he looked away from Stan as he grabbed his bags from the backseat.
“Butters, are you sure you don’t want to just go?”
That’s all he wanted to do. Get away from his parents. Get away from this dare. Get away from… Stan. He smiled at the worried teen in front of him. “I’m sure.”
“Okay.” He reached for his hand and Butters felt his neck and ears flush. “I’ll walk you to class then. Think that’ll make you feel better?”
Fuck, this is supposed to be fake; it has to stay fake. Why was Stan making this so hard for him? He thickly swallowed and nodded with a small smile. “Yeah, it will.”
Stan smiled back and he felt his stomach flutter. “Good, let’s go. What class do you have?” He asked as he gently tugged for him to follow.
“Uh, Orchestra. But we’re practicin' in the auditorium today.”
Stan nodded and Butters decided to focus on the ground as he let Stan lead him to the school. He felt bad for making Stan do so much for him this morning and they haven’t even gone to their ‘date’ yet. Taking a breath, he looked at Stan. “I’m sorry you had to hug me to make me feel better.”
He furrowed his eyebrows and shook his head. “It’s fine, dude.” Stan slung his arm around his shoulders and playfully shook him as he pulled him close. “We’re friends, man,” he whispered in his ear. He felt a chill run down his spine and he held his breath. “I want to try making everything easier for both of us.” Yeah, right. He was making it so hard for him; especially right now.
He nodded, not trusting his voice to answer for him at the moment.
“Hey, do you usually eat lunch here before going home?”
He nods again. “Yeah. My parents only give me enough money to pay for the school’s lunch. They could tell if I go anywhere else.”
“Your parents give you money for lunch? You don’t have a job?”
He shook his head. “Not yet. My parents don’t want me working right now. They’d rather have me at home if I’m not at school.”
He watched Stan roll his eyes at this with a small frown. He understood that Stan’s, and his friends’, parents weren’t the same as his own, but it still didn’t change the fact that he didn’t like when others criticized them. They were his parents, not theirs.
“Okay, well, I’ll pick you up after you eat and I’ll drop you off at home so you can get ready.”
“You know, it would help me if you told me what we’re doing,” Butters bumped shoulders with him as he spoke with a teasing tone.
“Ha ha,” he laughed sarcastically, “nice try.”
“Could you blame me for tryin'?”
He scoffed. “I guess not.” They both stopped in front of the entrance of the auditorium. “Well, here's your class.”
He looked at Stan expectedly and he noticed the bashful look on his face. What was Stan thinking of right now? Should he just go ahead and make the first move again? No. He should just leave it be before it gets worse. “Uh… here,” Stan mumbled. He felt him tug him into a hug and he was happy to accept. “It’s a better hug than the one in the car,” he whispered.
He tried holding back the growing smile he had. He sighed blissfully and nuzzled closer into his shoulder holding him closer. Stan, as self-centered as he could be sometimes, was very kind. It was one of the reasons why- He pulled away from him with a small frown. He couldn’t let himself be pulled into something that wasn’t real. He looked up to drown himself in the pretty bluish-grey eyes. He slowly moved his hands to hook together behind his neck, letting himself play with the loose hairs that peeked out from under his beanie. He wondered what would happen if he went against what Stan allowed and kissed him. He suddenly became aware of how dry his lips were and he tried to hold himself back from licking them. If he kissed him in front of everyone, what would he do?
Stan’s eyebrows furrowed. “Butters… really, if you don’t feel good-”
“Hey, hey.” The two looked over to see Red standing there with a hand on her hip. “Sorry to interrupt you two love birds, but I gotta steal Butters away from you for class.”
Butters clambered away from Stan with a blush. “Oh yeah. Sorry.” What was he even thinking?
Red snickered and placed her hand on his shoulder. “Heidi grabbed your violin for you,” she told him.
He nodded before looking over at Stan, who still showed the worry in his eyes. “I’ll see you after lunch then.”
“Yeah.” He paused. “Hope your day gets better,” he mumbled.
He smiled up at him. “Thank you, Stan.” He gave him a small wave before entering the auditorium with Red.
Once he was sure nobody, including Stan, could hear them, he released a loud sigh. “Red, I don’t think I can do this.”
“What do you mean?”
“Me and Stan. I don’t want to give in and have Eric do whatever, but... I don’t think I’m going to last any longer with him.”
“Oh, are you talking about how you almost shoved your tongue down Stan’s throat.” She laughed. “So obvious.”
He covered his face. “Geez, I know. How stupid am I?”
“It wasn’t that noticeable.”
“Do you think?”
“Well, to Stan it wasn’t. What did he say? Something about you not feeling well?” She laughed. “He’s so clueless, it’s funny.”
He averted his gaze and forced a laugh for her. “Yeah, it is.”
“Well, I think you should go for it. You never know what could happen.” She nudged him.
He shook his head. “Nah, I… I couldn’t do that… Stan-”
She scoffed. “Just go after what you want, Butters. Lord knows that’s what you do anyways.”
He furrowed his eyebrows and looked at her. “What?”
She only smiled. “Oh come on, Butters. What do you take me for? A fool?”
It sounded like she was accusing him… He continued to keep her intense gaze. Like she knew something he didn’t…
He began to shake his head again. “I really don’t know what you’re talking about, Red.” He forced a smile. “Gotta get ready, yeah?” Without waiting for her to respond, he moved to his assigned seat next to the viola section. His pulse was racing. What was she talking about? There isn’t much that he’s hiding from others. And what did she mean by that?
What did Red know?
Upon seeing the familiar light brown hair as he reached his seat, he smiled properly and sat down beside her. “Hiya, Heidi.”
She smiled back at him as she adjusted the strings on her viola. “Hi, Butters. Oh!" She bent down to pick up the case under her seat carefully. "I got your violin again," She said as she handed it to him.
“Thank you, Heidi.”
“It’s no problem. I don’t mind getting it for you since I'm usually early.” She played a cord before making a face and tuning it. “You know, now that I think about it, you’ve been a little out of it lately. Did something happen?”
He tried stopping the oncoming smile he felt. “Yeah, uh, I started seeing someone.” Stop it, Butters.
Heidi’s face lit up and she fumbled with her viola for a moment before placing it in her lap. “Oh my God, really?” She leaned forward with her eyes wide in wonder. “Who is it?”
“Er, uh, it’s…” his voice began to waver. “Stan…” He knew that it would reach her through his classmates, but it felt strange admitting it, even if it was all fake.
“Stan? As in Stanley Marsh?”
He nodded and was quick to notice the look of distraught on her face. “What’s wrong?”
She shook her head. “Oh, nothing.” She picked up her viola again and began to flip through the songs they had to practice. “That’s awesome though. I’m happy for you.”
Butters knitted his eyebrows together but left her be. Following her lead, he picked up his violin just as their instructor called for their class’ attention. He snuck a glance toward Heidi. He had a feeling that she was lying. But why?
-----
Both Heidi and Red avoided him when he left for his next two classes; Astronomy and AP Psychology. Which in turn didn’t make his day any better. He had chosen Astronomy because it had sounded like fun. I mean, who wouldn’t want to learn about the planets and their history? It was cool in theory, but it didn’t really interest him anymore. All it does for him now is regret taking the class and wish he had taken something else more productive for himself.
And psychology just reminded him how fucked up all of his friends grew up to be. Stan's depression, Tweek's anxiety. It hurt him to know how easily he could now diagnose them, even if it was the whole point of him taking the class. It all just brought his mood lower.
When he was finally let go for his lunch, he was relieved to take a break. He was quick to pay for his lunch and sit with his friends. He placed his tray next to Craig’s and took a seat. "Heya, fellas."
Craig hummed and Kyle gave a small wave from across him as he kept his eyes on his 'boyfriend’ with' a deep frown on his lips. "So, like a date?"
Butters looked between the two for a moment as he began to eat his mac and cheese.
Craig didn't respond immediately, taking his time with his own lunch. Finally, he said, "We can talk about it later."
Kyle gave an exasperated sigh and threw his hand up in frustration. "You were the one to bring it up!"
"Later, Broflovski."
Kyle grumbled under his breath as he stabbed at his own lunch.
Butters was curious though. "Are you two going on a date too?"
"No." Craig was quick to answer.
Kyle glared at him as he stabbed at his lunch more aggressively. Craig only glared back.
It was awkward.
After an agonizingly quiet five minutes, Kenny came up to the table and sat across from Butters. "Whoa, you can really feel the tension over here. Trouble in paradise?" Craig and Kyle turned their glares to Kenny. He held his arms up defensively. "Just jokes, boys. Only jokes."
Kyle rolled his eyes and pushed his lunch towards him. "Here, I'm not hungry."
Kenny’s eyes lit up and he happily took the tupperware from him. "Don't mind if I do!" He pulled off his hood and began to stuff his face. "Thank you so much, Mrs. Broflovski."
Kyle gave a chortle as he shook his head.
"So, McCormick…" Kenny’s eyebrow twitched upward as he glanced at Craig. "Where's Tweek?"
Kenny hummed as he chewed the pasta he had. "He's with Stan."
Craig paused. "Stan?"
"Yeah, dude, said he made plans with him. He told me this morning so I wouldn't worry or something like that," The corner of his mouth quirked up into a lopsided smile. "He worries a lot, huh?" Craig didn't answer so he continued. "But yeah, let him go with him. I just waved him off before coming here," he finished before shoving another mouthful of pasta into his mouth.
Butters froze and set his spoon down, giving Kenny a look of confusion.
He saw Craig begin to rub his forehead with the tips of his fingers with an irked expression. “I’m sorry, you did what?”
Kenny cleared his throat and spoke a little louder as if Craig hadn't heard him. “Tweek said that he needed to go with Stan, so I let him go.” He shrugged. Craig made a noise and Kenny furrowed his eyebrows. “I don’t know what the big deal is. You always this paranoid about Tweek?"
Craig and Butters shared a look before looking back at the blonde. “You… don’t see the problem,” the ravenette’s tone made it sound like a matter-of-fact rather than a question.
“No?”
“What's the problem?” Kyle asked. “Tweek wanted to go with Stan and Kenny let him go. Isn’t that good because he isn’t… restricting him or anything?”
Butters decided to speak up. “Yeah, no, no. It’s no problem at all. Right, guys?” He glared at Kenny. “He let Tweek go with Stan, that's fine."
Kenny’s face twitched. “Butters, not right now.”
“But it’s a problem when it’s me.”
“What does that mean?” Kyle asked as he turned to look at Kenny.
“Nothing, he's just-.”
“He said he was sorry.”
“That doesn’t mean he meant it.”
"Why are you even mad at him? You should be mad at Eric if anything. He's the one who's started all this mess."
"He-"
"Okay, what is going on?" Kyle asked, looking between the three.
Nobody answered him. Not immediately at least.
"Stan was being homophobic."
"He was not being homophobic."
"He called Butters disgusting."
Butters was taken aback for a moment, but he tried his best to not let it show. "We were all put in a weird situation, I don't blame him at this point."
"Butters," Kenny’s tone was firm.
"Why're you acting like I don't know him? I've been his friend just as long as you have. I don't need your permission to do anything with him."
“You know what,” Craig looked at Butters, “fuck what he thinks. Do what you want."
"Took you long enough," Butters shot back.
"I told you,” Kenny started again. “Stan is a dickwad. Why would I let you go with him?”
“Let me?”
Kenny’s eyes widened and he sputtered for a moment. “That’s not-”
“That is so hypocritical, Kenny! What is wrong with you? You let Tweek go with him! What? You don’t care enough about him to worry?” Craig made a noise at this and Kenny’s mouth opened slightly, but he quickly closed it, not answering his question. “Is it because it’s me? Is… is there something I did to make you paranoid about leaving me alone with my friend? My boyfriend?” He chose to specify when he noticed the people around him beginning to stare.
A look of guilt flashed across his face. “No, it’s not-”
“Then what is it?” He heard his voice crack and he felt a sudden rush of fatigue run through him. He placed his head in his hands to calm himself and the upcoming headache he was receiving.
"Butters…" Kenny started, "I-"
“You know what, I’m fine. I’ll get over it.” Like he was always told to do.
“Marsh!” Butters' angered gaze turned to where Craig was calling over the other dark-haired teen who seemed to just have walked through the cafeteria doors. Immediate relief ran through him and he began to pick up his trash.
"Hey, guys,” Stan greeted as he took in who was at the table. “Where are the others?”
Craig’s eyes narrowed. “What are you doing?"
"Oh, uh, I came to pick up Butters."
“No, no. Where's Tweek?” Craig specified.
“Yeah, where is Tweek, Stan?” Kenny chimed in.
Stan looked between the two with his mouth opening and closing as he tried to think of a response. “Uh…”
Butters moved to stand next to him and clutched the sleeve of Stan’s sweater to begin pulling him away from the table. “I’m sure Tweek’s fine, fellas. You ain’t gotta worry. He can take care of himself.” He began to tug Stan away from their intense glares. “Anyway, we gotta go. Right, Stan?”
Stan jolted a bit when he said his name and began to scratch his cheek, looking nervous. “Y-yeah, we do.” He gave the group a small wave and began to slowly lead Butters out of the cafeteria. “See you, guys.”
“Now, wait a minute!” Kenny started. “You can’t just-”
Butters didn’t hear the rest of his sentence. He began pulling for Stan to follow faster, muttering, “Go, go, go!”
They ran through the halls to reach the front, ignoring the teachers telling them to stop running in the halls. When they reached the front, they were breathless and laughing at each other's flushed faces. Stan draped his arm around Butters’ shoulder and began to lead him to his car. “You got everything?”
“Yup! Where are we gonna go?”
“Oh, uh, to your house.”
“To my house?”
“Yeah, so you can get ready. It’s way later, dude.” They reached Stan’s car and he let go of him. “Like at night.”
“At night?” Stan didn’t tell him that! How late? His parents would never let him go… unless. Butters smiled. “Alrighty, then.” They both got into the car. “When are you gonna pick me up?”
Stan hummed for a moment as he turned on the car. “I don’t know, man. I still need to set everything up.”
Butters nodded. So pretty late. Okay, he could work with that. “Alrighty! I’m sure I’ll be ready whenever you pick me up.”
“Right.” Stan began to start driving him home, turning up his music to fill the silence.
Butters hummed along and let his mind drift. Back to his day. Back to what Kenny had said. He had tried to not let it bother him too much in the moment, but now… now it just made a ball of anxiety swell in his chest. Did he really want to know what happened? He began to rub his hands. The nerves were getting to him.
He took a breath and turned towards Stan, who was focused on the road. He froze and turned back to look out the window. His anxiety got worse.
He squeezed his eyes shut and took in a breath to calm his nerves. He opened his eyes and leaned forward to turn off the radio. “Stan,” He hummed in response, “did you call me disgusting?”
Stan turned to look at him in shock before looking back at the road. “What?”
“Kenny told me that’s what you said before. Is that why he’s mad at you?”
He paused for a moment. “That’s not what I said.”
“Then what did you say?”
Stan sighed. “I… I didn’t say that you were disgusting. I was just… I don’t know… You tried kissing me and, uh…” He drifted off.
Butters began to chew on his inner cheek. That’s right… Stan wasn’t happy when he held his hand and tried kissing him.
“I… I was just upset, I guess. I didn’t mean what I said. Everything was so sudden and-”
“What did you say?” Butters repeated, more firmly this time.
Stan paused again. “I said it was sick.” He glanced at him. “Not you! After you held my hand, you know! I didn’t mean you, I just didn’t want to-”
Butters only nodded. “Right.” He looked out the window as Stan continued to sputter on. He didn’t want to hear excuses from him. He gets it. He really does. To be put in this type of situation with someone you didn't want to be with in the first place. But that's just how it has to be right now. Eric Cartman loves to have everyone under his control, but he knows more than anyone else to just go along with it. It's better to let the storm pass than running straight into it.
Stan finally stopped talking and the rest of their ride was spent in silence.
When they finally pulled up to the front of his house, he immediately moved to grab his belongings.
"Butters," Stan started again.
Butters sighed, ignoring him, and opened the door. “Do I need to bring anything?”
"Butters…"
He gave him a pointed look, urging him to just answer the question.
“Just… wear something comfortable and warm."
"Okay." He moved to get out, grabbing his things.
"And if you're gonna eat something, make sure it's light," he added.
"Okay."
"Butters-"
He closed the door before he continued on and trudged up to his house, noticing the empty driveway. He fumbled with his keys for a moment before he could open the door, feeling Stan stare at him from his car. Once he got in, he slammed the door closed and took a breath, trying to calm himself.
He was getting upset.
Letting his head fall back against the door, he began to take in slow, deep breaths. In four, hold for seven, release for eight. He did this until he felt his heart start to steady and his body wasn't tense.
He pushed himself off the door and headed straight for his room. All he had to do was distract himself until it was time to be picked up for… whatever it was that he and Stan were going to do.
He tried focusing on taking out his unfinished homework at his desk, but his vision started to blur. He tried blinking away the tears, but it had only made it worse. Doing his breathing exercise again didn't help either, instead, it only made his heart race as he began to hyperventilate. He pushed himself away from his desk and grabbed his towel before running to the bathroom.
After he turned on the water, he was quick to strip out of his clothes and hop into the shower, wincing at the freezing water. Ignoring the bone-chilling cold, he let the water run over his head as tears began to slip out, disguising it for whoever decided to give him an unfortunate life just for their own sick fun.
Holding himself for some comfort he began to let it out. Loud and ugly sobs. He let his mind race to fuel the fire - from the day he had to every little thing that had bothered him up until this day. Knowing how his parents were still out made him cry louder; something he knew he could never do if they were.
So much for it being a good day.
Butters waited until he was picked up for the date, keeping himself busy in the meantime. Going between watching t.v.,doing his homework, reading, and just walking around his house with his mind distracted.
He had put on something warm like Stan had suggested. A plain sweatshirt with a turtleneck underneath paired with some jeans. Butters didn’t really feel like dressing up. At this point, he just wanted to get it over with.
He looked at the clock to read the time for the umpteenth time, getting antsier each time he did. It was almost eight. He huffed and began to pace around his house again, chewing on his lips.
Did Stan forget? Did he change his mind? Maybe it was a bad idea after all to ask Stan about what he said. He couldn't help but look at the time again. If his parents got back now, he wouldn't be able to go out at all. He was surprised he hadn't gotten caught yet. Though with how his day is going, he wouldn’t be surprised if they pulled in just as he was leaving.
He jolted when he heard the doorbell ring. Muttering a "finally," he pulled on his boots and quickly walked over to the door. He pulled it open and froze when he saw the familiar boy.
Stan gave an awkward smile. "Hey."
“Hi." He forced himself not to check out his friend too obviously. He was wearing something simple - A color block corduroy over his layered shirt and sweatshirt with jeans as well. He looked good. Really good. “You look very nice," he said after he realized he was quiet for a little too long.
Stan looked down at what he was wearing and shrugged. “Thanks. You can thank Bebe for that though. She refused to let me dress myself.” Butters laughed at this. “You look good too. It’s weird seeing you wear something different, but it’s nice.”
He beamed at the compliment, even if he knew he was being nice. “Thank you.”
There was a beat of silence between them where they continued to stare at one another before Stan awkwardly cleared his throat. “Uh, so, yeah… why don’t we head out?”
“Oh, yeah. Let’s go.” Butters turned to close and lock the door.
He followed Stan to his car and hopped into the passenger seat. He felt a nudge on his elbow, making him jump and turn to look to the back seat to see Stan’s dog. Stan noticed his fright.
“Sorry, I didn’t want to leave him home alone.”
“That's fine.” He contorted his body to pet his head better. “Hi there, cutie.” He looked at Stan. “Sparky, right?”
He saw him smile. “Yeah.” He started driving away from his house and Butters looked out the window to watch the usual scenery.
After a few minutes of silence, aside from the low tune of whatever Stan had playing, Butters decided to speak up. "Where are we going?" He asked, noticing how his tone was a bit hostile. He cleared his throat and tried to fix it. "Y'know, 'cause you still haven't told me."
“Lansen Park.”
“A park?” What the hell were they gonna do at a park at this time?
“Yeah.” Stan glanced at him. “You’ll see. I got everything set up for it.”
Butters hummed and went back to staring out the window. They were just leaving the town and soon they would be at the park. He wondered briefly what Stan had set up for them before he heard the music shut off.
“Butters?”
He hummed, keeping his gaze towards the window.
"I… I really am sorry."
He let out a deep sigh. "I know."
“I’m an idiot-”
He scoffed out a laugh. “I know.”
Stan hummed, obviously annoyed by his quick banter. “I know it doesn’t change anything, but I was upset and I said things I didn’t mean.” Butters didn’t respond to this. “I know that what I did was wrong, but I can't change the past. I can only try to make things right. Please, can we just move past this?" Stan pleaded.
He knew that it was true, but he couldn’t help but feel a little hurt by the whole thing. It wasn’t easy to just forgive and forget, even if he really wanted to. He turned to look at Stan and saw the genuine look in his eyes and he knew. He knew that he meant what he was saying.
“I know that you’re sorry, Stan. And I appreciate it, but…” he trailed off, not sure how to continue.
“But what?” Stan prompted.
Butters took a deep breath before continuing. “I feel like I’m the one who’s workin’ to make this easier for the both of us. I… I know it’s hard, but…” he drifted before sighing. “I don’t know… I think I'm overreactin’. I really do appreciate your apology.” Butters went back to staring out the window, crossing his arms tightly across his chest.
Stan was quiet for a moment. “Okay… I understand that.” He went quiet again and turned back on his music. They rode the rest of the way without speaking to each other until they reached the park.
When the painfully awkward ride finally ended, Butters moved to get out but stopped when he felt Stan grab his arm. His eyes were wide. “W-what? Do we still have to wait?”
Stan let go as if touching Butters suddenly burned him. “No! I… uh…” He waited for him to find his words. “I just wanted to tell you that I think that I’m lucky I got to be paired with you.” He felt his eyes widen in shock. “We might not be as close as I am with Kyle, but you’re still my friend and I really want to make this work. Make it easy for the both of us… and I’ll try harder. So you’re not alone.”
Butters felt his face flush and he was thankful that it was dark out. He cleared his throat. “I… I want to make this work too.”
Stan smiled. “Good! Now, let’s go before we miss it,” he told him before getting out of his car.
Butters followed suit, confused by what he meant by 'it.' He noticed Stan pulling things out from the trunk and moved over to him to try to help, but he only waved him off. “I’ve got it. Do you mind letting Sparky out?”
“Oh, yeah, sure.” He opened the back seat and was greeted by Sparky. He smiled at the dog as it looked down and whined. “Oh, it’s okay, little fella,” he told him as if he understood. “I’ve gotcha.” He helped Sparky down and smiled as he trotted around, taking in his surroundings.
He heard the trunk close and turned to see Stan holding a few bags. He nodded towards the park. “Okay, let’s go.”
Butters followed Stan through the park and as they walked deeper into the park, past the playground and the fountain, the trees grew taller and the air grew cooler. They walked until they reached a clearing, where a blanket was already pinned and waiting for them, alongside some solar lights around them. He also noted how the area looked to be cleaned up from the snow.
Stan began to set the bags down and turned back to him. “Ta-da.” Butters didn’t respond, still wondering what they were going to do. Stan bit his lip and crouched down to move the bags around. “It’s, uh… I planned us a picnic.”
His eyes widened slightly as a smile blossomed on his face. “A picnic?”
“Er, yeah.” He pulled one of the bags closer and dug out a tennis ball. He whistled for Sparky’s attention and threw it towards him, which immediately excited him. “So we can watch the meteor shower.”
He gave a small gasp. "The meteor shower! I completely forgot that it was today."
Stan looked up at him with a shy smile. “So you like it?”
Butters returned his smile with his own broad one.”Of course I do!”
His smile widened. “Great! Let’s get settled in then.” Stan gestured towards the blanket and they both made themselves comfortable. As he sat down, Butters couldn't help but feel a sense of peace wash over him. He looked up at the sky, taking in the stars that were already visible. It was calming to think that there was a whole universe out there, just waiting to be explored.
As they waited for the meteor shower to start, they ate the food that Stan had brought with him, most of them his favorites. Butters couldn't help but feel grateful for the gesture. Maybe things were going to be okay between them after all. He took a deep breath, letting the fresh air wash over him. It was good to be outside, away from the screens and the noise of the city.
As they waited, they talked about everything and nothing, each of them opening up a little bit more as the night progressed. Butters couldn't believe how comfortable he was feeling, how easy it was to talk to Stan. They were reminiscing on past memories when a shiver ran through him. He wasn’t really noticing it before, but it had gotten a lot colder. He adjusted his position by bringing his knees to his chest.
Stan suddenly stopped talking. Immediately thinking that he had done something wrong, he stopped reaching for his drink and looked at him. “What’s wro-?”
“Are you cold?”
He hummed for a moment. "Yeah," he answered in a small voice.
“God, Butters,” He muttered, irritated. “Why don’t you ever fucking say anything?” He pushed himself off the ground and began to walk back towards the car. He felt a twinge of guilt at this. Stan did tell him to dress warm.
He grabbed one of the few remaining cookies and began to nibble on it when Sparky came back from his recent fetch. He dropped the ball and laid down next to Butters, yawning. He smiled at the dog and leaned forward to pet him. As he gently patted Sparky’s head, he suddenly felt a new weight on his shoulders. He looked up and saw Stan sitting himself down in his spot with a blanket in his hands.
Stan’s coat. He immediately moved to take it off as he told him, “You don’t have to do this.”
“Please don’t start with this again. Just wear it for now, man.”
Butters sighed inwardly but decided to pull the coat on instead of fighting it. Stan seemed pleased as he pulled out another drink from the cooler. He cracked it open and took a sip, but made a noise before stopping himself. “I have a question.” Butters raised his eyebrows so he could continue.
“So, should I start calling you ‘Leopold’ or ‘Leo,’ or should I just stick with ‘Butters?’ Or, uh,” he choked on his words for a moment, “‘babe,’ or something like that?”
He shrugged. “Whatever you feel comfortable with calling me.” Stan saw a smile twitch onto his lips and he coughed to cover it from him. “But, er, ‘babe’ would seem more authentic, don’t you think?”
Stan shrugged. “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he took another sip, “babe.” This made Butters laugh, which in turn made Sparky jump. “What? I have to practice to get used to it.”
Butters’ laugh died down into small fits of giggles as he tried to hide it. “Oh, you’re so right, babe.” He said with a wink before bursting out laughing again.
Stan smiled as he felt his face grow warm. He waited for Butters to calm down before speaking again. “So, uh, I have another question.”
“And I got another answer.” He gave a small laugh at his own response.
“Why… how…” Stan sighed, becoming frustrated with himself. “How come… you can just… adapt to this situation so easily? Plus, it’s not like I’ve made it the easiest task in the world.”
He shrugged. “It’s nothin’ I haven’t gone through. You just haven’t been with a guy before, but I gotcha."
“Oh, yeah. And you have the ‘experience’ of being with a guy?”
It was meant to be a sarcastic jab at him, but Stan felt his body freeze when Butters responded with a nonchalant, “Yeah.”
He turned to him with his eyes wide. “What?”
Butters took a sip from his drink. “I’m bi?” This made Stan’s jaw drop. “Are you okay?”
Stan couldn’t help the shocked expression that was now plastered onto his face. Why didn’t he know this? Did he tell him and he just forgot? “Bisexual… I, uh… I didn’t know…”
“Oh, yeah… I, uh, brought it up in passing. I guess only Kyle and Eric caught on. I-I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.”
“Ah, man, dude. I’m sorry!”
“Don’t be sorry. I kinda guessed you didn’t catch on. It’s fine.”
Stan covered his face, still embarrassed about this revelation. He couldn’t believe he didn’t catch on before. “So you’ve been with guys?”
“Um, yeah. I’ve been with both, that’s how I know for sure.” He paused for a moment. “I-I’ve hooked up with people but I did have a few serious relationships. Charlotte and I were pretty serious, I guess. After that, Bradley and I, we went to a conversion camp together, were trying to see if we could be together, but we didn’t exactly last long. Long distance, you know. I think my longest relationship was with Kenny. We dated for about two years.” Butters shrugged.
Stan’s mouth fell open again. There was so much information coming at him. Butters was actively bisexual? Conversion camp? Kenny? He dated Kenny?!
Stan sputtered for a moment. “Kenny?” He exclaimed. “Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't he tell me?"
“I didn’t want him to tell you.”
“Why not?”
“Well, uh, if my parents found out… I don’t even know what they would do. I didn’t want them to hurt Kenny, so… the only way was to keep our relationship a secret from you guys.”
“I wouldn’t have told.”
“I know… but you do have a big mouth sometimes.”
“Hey!”
Butters laughed. “Just jokin’!”
He gently punched his arm as he chuckled with him. There were so many questions swirling around in his head. He didn’t know where to start. He didn’t know if he should, but Stan couldn’t stop the next question from coming out. “What’s it like?” He felt his face flush. Why did he ask that?! Why did he want to know?
Butters tilted his head in confusion. “Like… what do you mean? With Kenny?”
Stan felt his face grow aflame. “Be-being with a guy,” he answered, voice small.
“Oh.” He looked away in thought. “Well, it’s the same as dating a girl, but it’s… different?” He looked back at him. “Sorry, I know that doesn’t help much.”
“Like… different how?”
“Well, it’s different for everyone, but for me… girls are… soft, if that makes sense? Their lips, when we’re together, and how they see the relationship. It’s nice, it’s soft, sweet.” He paused, taking another sip of his drink. “But… when I’m with a guy, it’s like… there’s somethin’ raw about it. Maybe it’s because I know my mom and dad would get real heated with me if they found out. Don’t get me wrong, there are ‘raw’ girls and gentle guys, but that’s just how it is for me.” He began to rub his fingers against his knuckles as he began to chuckle nervously. “I know, that sounds dumb.”
“No, I… I think I get it.”
Butters smiled. “Okay! If you have any more questions about it, I don’t mind tryin’ to answer to help with any confusion about it.”
He nodded. “‘Kay. Thanks, man.”
He smiled. “No problem.”
It was quiet between them, but Stan couldn’t help a single thought gnawing at the back of his mind. “Hey, Butters?” He looked at him, making him ten times as nervous as he should be. “Could… could I-”
A small light that passed through the sky caught both their eyes and they both turned to see what it was. Butters gasped excitedly. "It's starting!"
Stan chuckled at his reaction and leaned back to watch them. Thank God for that timing. He wasn’t sure if he was gonna be able to face Butters any longer if he had finished asking the question. ‘Could I kiss you to see what you mean?’ Fuck, he feels embarrassed just thinking of it.
Every now and again, a bright meteor would pass by, lighting up where they sat. As they watched the meteor shower, Stan couldn’t help but glance at Butters every so often. He was experiencing an array of emotions he couldn’t quite understand. Seeing him in a new light was both exciting and terrifying. He was happy that Butters was comfortable enough to share personal details with him, but he was also feeling something more. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but he knew that it scared him. Stan had never considered what it might be like to be with a guy before, but now that he knew Butters was bi, it was all he could think about. His mind was racing with questions and doubts. What if he tried it and didn't like it? What if he ruined their friendship? What if he couldn't stop thinking about it? He was straight, right? He’s always known that he was straight. But then why was he feeling this way about Butters? Stan shook his head, trying to dispel the thoughts that were forming in his head. He was overthinking it. This was just a different experience, that’s all.
Stan took another peek at Butters and felt himself freeze. He couldn’t find the strength to look away. Butters was looking up towards the sky, eyes wide in awe. His mouth was slightly parted and Stan watched with oncoming embarrassment when his tongue slowly traced over his lips to moisten them. Stan’s gaze lowered to his neck and watched intently when he slowly lifted his drink to his mouth and took a few sips, making his Adam's apple bob with every gulp. Stan felt his face flush and he forced himself to look back at the sky.
He tried to focus on the balls of light passing through the sky, but he kept on feeling the urge to return to staring at the blonde sitting beside him. He risked another look. His face would be lit up by a passing meteor that was a bit closer than the others and Stan could see his light eyes twinkle along with them.
He was leaning back, propping himself up with his left arm as he mindlessly ate his chips. The coat that he was borrowing was a bit loose on him, but it looked good. He looked good. He felt a chill run down his spine. ‘Because it was cold,’ he told himself as he wrapped the blanket around himself. But deep down, he knew that wasn’t the only reason. There was something else that was making him feel this way. But… why?
His thoughts began to wander again and Stan suddenly felt a wash of shame run through him and he looked away from his friend before he was caught. He tried to only think about the meteors above them, but his mind kept on returning to what the voices in his head kept on chanting at that moment:
Butters looked really pretty.
Stan clapped a hand over his mouth as he gagged.
Butters jumped and he looked over at him in alarm. “Are you okay, Stan?”
He nodded and tried swallowing back the nausea he felt. “Yeah, I think I just ate too much.” He swallowed again and forced himself to look at him. “I’ll be fine.”
His face contorted with worry. “Oh, alright… Are you sure?”
Stan nodded, but tried not to make any eye contact with him. “Positive.”
Butters was quiet as he continued to watch him for a moment, before turning back to look up at the sky.
Stan wanted to punch some sense into himself. What was wrong with him? Maybe it was the atmosphere. It is something Wendy would like… maybe his mind was confused. He looked at Butters again and he felt his stomach drop. Yeah, that must be it! He just misses Wendy.
“Uh, Stan?”
He almost jumped out of his skin. He cleared his throat to clear any signs of nerves, but it didn’t help when his voice cracked when responding. “Yeah?”
Butters was still watching the sky. Hopefully, not noticing Stan’s behavior. “Do you see that?”
Stan looked up and began to scan the night sky. He noticed a bright green ball of light growing bigger and bigger, like it was heading towards them. Stan moved to grab Butters’ arm just in case they needed to move. “What the hell is that?” He began packing everything as quickly as he could.
It all happened so fast. Stan thought he had enough time, but whatever it was had crashed into the ground at the other side of the park, not far from them making the ground rumble. It was glowing ominously.
“What the-!”
“Nope.” Stan picked up what was already packed and grabbed Butters’ hand, starting to run to his car.
When they reached the car, they were both panting for breath. “Stan, what was that?” Butters asked desperately.
“No clue.” He knelt down and held his arms open. “C’mon, Sparky. Come here, boy.” His dog trotted over happily into Stan’s arms and he was quick to put him into the backseat. He ran around his car and jumped in, immediately turning it on and hightailing out of there.
Stan was gripping the steering wheel tightly as his jaw was tight.
“I just want a normal Senior year. That’s all I ask for, but do I get that? No.” He took a peek in the rearview mirror and saw something beginning to crawl out of the giant rock. He shook his head to get rid of the nightmare-inducing image and continued to drive.
He was speeding but he didn’t care, he just wanted to get out of there. As they drove away from the park, Stan couldn't shake off the feeling of unease that had settled in his stomach. After a few minutes of driving, he slowed down a bit and stole a glance at Butters, who was staring out the window with a look of shock on his face. Stan wondered if he was the only one that felt like something was off. He had a bad feeling about that green ball of light, and the way it crashed into the ground with such force was definitely not a good sign. Stan clenched his fingers around the steering wheel and tried to focus on the road. He needed to get them both to safety.
Butters shifted in his seat, turning to face Stan. "What do you think that was?"
"I don't know," Stan replied, his voice tense. "But I don't want to think about it. As far as I know, we didn’t see anything. I’m not involving myself in it and neither are you. We didn’t see anything. Right?” He didn’t respond. “Butters, what did we see?”
This was when the dam broke and Butters began to laugh hysterically. It had caught Stan off guard for a moment, but a lopsided smile grew on his face after a moment. "What's so funny?" Stan asked.
Butters shook his head, tears of laughter started to stream down his face. "I don't know, man. It's just... the way you said that. Like we're in some kind of spy movie or something."
Stan chuckled, feeling some of the tension in his shoulders start to ease. "I know, right? But seriously, I don't want to get involved in whatever that was. We should just forget about it and move on with our lives."
Butters nodded, still giggling a bit. "Yeah, you're right.”
Stan was able to get them safely back to South Park, and soon to Butters house. He parked in front of the house and took off his seatbelt. “I’ll walk you.” He got out before he could retaliate. He saw Butters shake his head with a smile before getting out of the car and making his way towards the front door.As he followed Butters, he kept looking up towards the sky, just in case some other meteor decided to appear to finish the job.
Butters stopped in front of the door and turned around to look at Stan. “Thank you for everything. I had a lot of fun.”
“That’s nice. Maybe we could do something else too.”
“Yeah! That would be fun! Maybe we could go rollerskating or even-”
Stan wasn’t listening anymore. He was happy to have Butters back to normal again after he messed it up. He would nod with a smile every once in a while to keep him going, but he was using this opportunity to really take in his features. Though there was something appealing about each thing about him, there was one thing that stood out to Stan the most.
His eyes.
He noticed one was significantly lighter than the other. That’s right… he never really got a closer look. He didn't know what came over him, but he had a strong urge to touch the light scar. He brought his hand up and gently touched where the scar extended under his eye with the back of his finger. He noticed how he immediately stopped talking and flinched.
“I'm sorry. Does it hurt?”
He shook his head. “No! It’s just, uh, I-I just wasn’t expectin' it, is all. I didn’t see you move your arm.”
He pulled his hand away from his face at once. “Oh, fuck, man! Are you blind? Er, not like that. Like, um-”
Butters chuckled. “Yeah, I am in my left eye. The doctors were able to save it, but I can’t see through it. Any longer, they would have needed to take it out. My scar even runs through my eye.”
“Really?” He leaned closer to his face and noticed how his eyes widened as he did so. He looked between the two - his normal light blue and the very pale blue. “I don’t see it. Probably because it’s dark though.” He moved back from him so he wouldn’t be as close anymore. He looked down for a moment. “Butters, I’m sorry.”
“Sorry? For what?”
“For… everything. I've been a dick to you and-”
“You’ve already apologized though.”
“I know… And your eye…”
“Well, that wasn’t your fault. Kenny threw the star, remember?”
“Yeah, but I didn’t really help either.”
Butters shook his head and chuckled. “You really like to wallow in self-pity, huh?”
Stan didn’t know how to respond to that. He knew he was right.
“Oh!” He began to unbutton the coat he wore. “Here’s your coat.”
Stan watched as he struggled for a moment with one of the buttons. He smiled at him. “Just keep it.”
He stopped and looked at him. “But-”
“Like I said before, I have others.” He reached forward and began to rebutton the coat to keep it on him. “You don’t have to force yourself to wear it out, just when you’re cold, man.” He finished the last button and brought his hands to his face. “See? Even with the coat on, you’re still cold.”
“Am I?” He brought his hands up to cover Stan's fingers, but just enough to touch his face as well. His hands were very warm in contrast to his face. “I guess so,” he mumbled. "But you’re just as cold, Stan! So, you need it as much as I do.”
He scoffed. “Just keep the fucking coat, Butters. If you don’t like that, then I'm just gonna have to buy you one myself.”
He looked at him with wide eyes. “What? No, don't do that.”
“Then my coat, it is.”
An endearing look flashed across his face before he began to snicker behind his hand. “Okay, Stan.” Those damn chills again. “I’ll keep it.”Butters unlocked the front door and entered his house. He looked back at him. “I’ll see you then.”
He closed the door, but Stan could hear his father yell almost immediately, “Butters! Do you know what time it is?” Oh, fuck! He forgot how anal his parents were. Why didn’t he say anything?
Stan frowned at the door and turned back to go to his car. He plopped himself in his seat and stared up at the ceiling of the car. You really like to wallow in self pity. Hard not to when he’s ruining everyone’s life around him. I mean, he had gotten Butters in trouble. He let out a sigh and pulled out his phone, sending a text to the boy just a few meters away:
hey dude you ok?
heard your dad yell
He slipped his phone back into his pocket and began to drive back to his house, which was luckily not too far. He pulled into the driveway beside his mom’s car not too shortly after and got out, helping Sparky before he made his way inside with everything he was able to gather before running off. Once inside, he set everything in the kitchen and left Sparky to eat while he headed upstairs. “Mom, I’m home,” he called as he reached the top.
“That’s good, sweetie.” She called back. “Did you see the meteor showers tonight?”
“Yeah.” He opened his door. “Saw them with a friend.”
She took a second to respond. “Oh, that’s nice.”
“Yeah.” He felt his phone buzz in his pocket and he pulled it out. It was an incoming call from Butters. He quickly closed his door as he picked up. “Hey, everything good?” He moved to sit on his bed.
“Yes,” he was whispering. “I’m sorry I called. I didn’t know how long my dad would notice I didn’t give him my phone.”
Stan gave a small sigh of relief and laid back on his bed. “No worries, man.”
“I might’ve… maybe… forgotten to tell you when my parents wanted me home… ”
He smiled, chuckling as he did. “Right, sure you did.” He chuckled again. “It’s fine, though. I’m just… happy that we did that. It really cleared up a lot and I’m relieved.”
“I really liked it too. I hope we can do something like that again.”
Stan placed his hand over his stomach, trying to calm the constant fluttering he felt. “Yeah, me too.”
There was shuffling on his side before a gentle sigh came from him, making a chill go down his spine. “I have to go now before I get caught. Goodnight, Stan. I hope you sleep well. Oh, and thank you for letting me use your coat. I feel warmer already.”
He jerked himself to sit up, his stomach suddenly churning. “Yeah, man. It's no problem. Night." He quickly hung up and ran out of his room, hand covering his mouth. He burst into the bathroom and started vomiting into the toilet.
He jolted when he felt a gentle touch on his back. “Are you okay, Stanley?”
“Yeah, yeah. I'm-” he gagged. “I’m fine. I think I’m coming down with something.”
"I see." Her voice sounded unsure. "I'll get you some medicine for your stomach, okay? Does your head hurt or anything?"
Stan shook his head. "No. My stomach doesn't even hurt, I just… felt like throwing up, I don’t know."
"Okay… I'll be right back. You just stay here just in case." She left him and he heard her dig around in her room.
His breath was shaky. What was wrong with him? This was the second time he has thrown up this week. He pushed himself off the floor and flushed the toilet. He moved over to the sink and began to clean out his move to get rid of the unpleasant taste.
His mom came back with a pill and a bottle of water. “Here you go.”
“Thanks, mom.” He took it immediately and downed some water.
He noticed his mom eyeing his corduroy. “You look nice. Special occasion?”
He looked down at his outfit. Bebe was really proud of herself when she pulled it out for him. “No?” He shook his head. “My friend picked it out for me. Bebe, you know her.”
His mom nodded with a distant look. “Yeah… Well if you need anything else, Stanley, you just let me know. Oh, ”
He nodded and took another gulp of water. “Okay, thanks. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight.”
He went back to his room and began to change out of his clothes getting ready for bed. As he undressed, his thoughts kept drifting back to Butters. He couldn't help but think about when he would see him again. Well, at school obviously, you dunce. He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. He couldn't be thinking like this. He didn't need to start overthinking again.
He sighed and climbed into bed, pulling the covers over him. He tried to focus on something else, anything else but Butters. He closed his eyes and let out a deep breath, hoping to fall asleep soon. But his mind was still racing, his thoughts still circling back to Butters.
After a bit he couldn’t take it anymore and he sat up, frustrated with himself. Stan was just so confused. He didn’t understand anything. He didn’t get why he was getting sick or why his mind was racing. He needs to tell someone, someone who understands. He needed…
He needed to talk to Tweek.
He grabbed his phone and began to scroll through his contacts for the blonde’s name. He pressed on the call symbol and held the phone to his ear, listening to the dial tone.
After the fourth ring, it picked up with a, “What do you want?”
Stan pulled the phone away and looked at the contact again, confirming if it was Tweek’s number. He brought it back to his ear. “Craig?”
That Goddamn stupid nasally voice replied, “Yeah. What do you want?”
“I want to talk to Tweek.”
“Why?”
He huffed. “Why does that matter? Just put him on the phone.”
“Can’t.”
“What do you mean, you can’t?”
“He’s not here. He left his phone at my house.”
Stan rolled his eyes. “If he’s not there, why did you fucking pick up for him?”
“I wanted to know why you’re calling him. So, why do you want to talk to him?”
Stan huffed and just hung up. He didn’t find any point in continuing the conversation. He wasn’t Tweek and he made it clear that he wasn’t even there.
Who else could he talk to about this? He began scrolling through his contacts, considering his options
He stared at his phone, eyes fixed on Butters’ contact. Did Kenny somehow read him right? Was… was he actually disgusted by him? He didn't feel like he was, but he hadn't had his sudden vomit episodes since elementary school…Why did he throw up out of nowhere? What made him have that sudden urge to get rid of his prior meal? He ran his hand through his hair trying to think back to when he was around eight. He bit his lip and moved to scroll down through his contacts to find Kyle’s. He clicked on his name and began to type out a message:
hey dude
you doing anything tomorrow?
Without waiting for a response, he decided to set his phone on his nightstand. He turned off his lamp and lied down, letting an arm fall down to gently graze the top of Sparky’s head. Something he did as a form of comfort when he was stressed. He let his eyes fall closed trying not to let a certain blonde overtake both his mind and dreams.
Summary: It was only meant to be a stupid game of dares, 'The King's Game.' But, of course, nothing could go Stan's way. Cartman thought it would be hilarious to get under everyone's skin with his stupid dare and he did. Now, Stan had no way of getting back with Wendy because he was stuck with this dare.
Butters didn't care too much about the dare in its entirety. Stan was a cool guy and maybe they could get closer. He didn't see anything wrong with this dare from Eric. But, oh boy, if his parents knew, he'd sure be grounded. After this dare ends, he and Stan could still be friends, right?
What was the dare?:
Stan and Butters were forced to date for two months.
~~~
“Stanley?”
Stan jerked awake when he heard his name along with the gentle call of his name. He turned a bit to see his mom standing beside his bed with her hand on his shoulder. He groaned and rubbed at his eyes. “Yeah?”
“I know you’re tired from work, but you have to get up for school.”
He groaned again and covered his face with his arm to block the incoming light from the morning sun. “Okay…”
There was a pause from her. “Are you okay, sweetie?”
He nods. “Yeah, just… give me a minute. I’ll be up and ready,” he mumbled out.
Another pause from her. “Okay… I’ll be downstairs then.” He heard her footsteps as she moved to leave his room and close his door.
He took a moment to himself, trying to urge himself to get up for the day. After another minute or so, he uncovered his face and moved to get up from the comfort of his bed. He yawned as he went over to his closet to pick out his clothes for the day, something simple. He stared down at the t-shirt and jeans he had grabbed. The voice in the back of his mind told him to ‘not be gross and just take a quick shower,’ but something else was telling him to ‘just fuck it.’
Deciding to just skip the morning shower for the day, he changed his clothing and got himself to look presentable for the day. He went over to the bathroom to quickly brush his teeth and add on cologne and deodorant for the day. After he finished, he went back to his room to grab his belongings and his guitar before making his way back out of his room and down the stairs. As he did so, a familiar smell of a sweet mixture of batter and maple reached him. He placed his belongings down on the couch, placing his phone in his pocket, and went over to the kitchen just in time to see his mom placing down two plates of pancakes with sides of sausage on the table.
“Oh, Stan! You came just in time.”
“You made breakfast?”
“Yes.” She raised her eyebrow at him. “Why do you sound so surprised?”
He shrugged. “You don’t do it as much anymore.” He sat down and immediately began to scarf down the food. “‘s good,” he mumbled, mouth full.
She shook her head at this and began eating her own plate. “Thank you, and I’ll try to do it more often for us.”
He swallowed what was in his mouth before responding. “It’s fine, mom. I know you’re busy with work and all.” He prodded at the edge of one of the pancakes with his fork. “I… could try cooking too?” His mom choked back on laughter and he furrowed his eyebrows and looked at her. “What?”
She waved her hand dismissively and shook her head. “I just remembered when your father tried to show you how to make something,” she began to laugh, but tried to hold back, “but you ended up ruining the meal and almost burnt down the house.” She let herself laugh out loud while Stan felt his face flush in embarrassment at the memory. “Your father was freaking out and running around screaming while you were trying to put out the fire with that stupid shirt he had you and your sister wear.”
He rolled his eyes. “He was more concerned about the weed and the shirt.”
Her laughter died down to little giggles. “He was. But if you do start cooking again, please try to not burn down this house.”
He grumbled, but still muttered an, “Okay...”
His phone began to buzz repeatedly in his pocket and he pulled it out to see who was trying to contact him.
Speaking of the Devil.
He stared down at the contact picture of his dad lighting up his screen. He watched it as it buzzed in his hand, waiting for it to pass.
It wasn’t like he had any sort of falling out with his father, it was just… he didn’t want to talk to him. It didn’t help when he had a gut feeling that the call was only to drag him into some other crazy ‘adventure.’
“Who was that?”
“Cartman.” He was quick to lie. “I’ll see what he wants when I get to school.”
After a moment, he turned his phone back on to check the time and his eyes widened.“Shit, I have to go!” He shoved the rest of his food into his mouth and quickly stood up, placing the used dishes in the sink. “Bye, mom! I’ll see you after school!” He called out to his mom as he grabbed his bags and key, leaving the house. He threw his things into the backseat of his car, though he was careful with his guitar, and hopped into the driver’s seat. He quickly turned on the car and drove down a couple houses to reach Butters’ house just in time to see the blonde currently locking the front door. He honked the car’s horn to get his attention and watched as he jolted in surprise before turning around. A smile began to grow on his face and he made his way over to his car to get inside.
“I can go!” Was the first thing Butters exclaimed when he hopped into his car.
It took Stan a moment to realize what he was talking about. The date. “Oh, cool, man. That’s great.” He began to drive them to school, carefully watching the area for any unwanted officers as he sped.
“So, what are we going to do?”
“Uh…” Fucking watch meteors, how boring must that be. “It’s a surprise…” He could probably find out a way to make him not fall asleep in the middle of it.
“Really?” He clasped his hands together. “I’m real excited for it, then!”
Fuck, he probably just made it worse for himself. He shrugged, trying not to seem too worried about it. “Well, I hope you like it.”
“I’m sure I will!”
Stan felt himself smile at the blonde’s excitement before it suddenly wiped itself away. “Oh, sorry for being late, by the way.”
“It’s fine.” He laughed awkwardly. “I actually thought you forgot about me.”
“Nah, dude.” There’s honestly no way he could. “Just next time I’m late or something, stop by my house. Other than that, I’ll try to be on time to pick you up.”
“Okay. I’ll keep that in mi- gah!”
Stan had sharply pulled to a stop into a parking space, making them both jerk forward in their seats. “Sorry, dude.” He apologized as he hopped out of his vehicle and grabbed his things.
He quickly grabbed Butters’ hand and began to drag him to the front entrance as quickly as he could so they wouldn’t be late. They quickly made their way through the twist and turns of the hallway before finally reaching the lockers. They separated and Stan was quick to replace the books in his bag before closing the locker. He quickly checked the time on his phone. They somehow made it with five minutes to spare. He put his phone away again and turned in time to see Butters making his way towards him.
He stopped directly in front of him and gave an awkward laugh. “I guess we gotta start findin’ somethin’ to do before we leave each other, huh?”
Stan lifted an eyebrow in question. “Like what?”
“Like hugging, or walking to class, or…” He shifted in his spot. “We could take turns givin’ kisses.” He quickly added, “Only if you want to.” He shrugged. “Or we could change it up. It’s whatever you want. Just so it looks authentic, you know?”
He couldn’t help but glance over Butters’ head to see a small group staring at the two, whispering to each other. He felt the sudden need to prove himself to them, even though he had no clue who they were.
Looking back to the turquoise eyes that watched him with curiosity, he opened his mouth to answer, but no voice came out. He hesitated for another moment, but in the end, finally agreed. “Y-yeah, man.” He saw him tilt his head slightly and he realized that he wasn’t specific, so he added, “We could do all of that, and I guess we could, uh…” kiss... “Just not like-” He couldn’t even bring himself to say it.
He nodded with a small smile. “I won’t. I promise, Stan.” His voice was gentle and reassuring. He took a small step towards him and he saw him tilt his head slightly.
Stan wondered briefly what he was going to do, almost jumping out of his skin when he felt him press his lips gently against the right side of his jaw. He felt a shudder run through his body and his face became warm at a rapid pace. He suddenly began to feel self-conscious and he began to wish he had taken the shower.
Butters pulled away from him and flashed him a smile. “I’ll see you later.” Then he disappeared. Stan didn’t know which direction he went, he was more focused on what happened just seconds ago. Though Stan knew that it was probably not even longer than two, maybe three, seconds, it had felt a lot longer than that. The spot where he once had his lips felt tingly and warm.
Stan felt dizzy. Dizzy and extremely nauseous. He took in a shuddering breath and tried to calm himself. He needed to get through this day and he didn’t want to try to explain why he might have passed out or suddenly became ill.
After a short moment, he decided that he was fine and adjusted the grip on his guitar case before leaving his spot in front of his locker.
He passed by the group that was staring at them earlier and couldn’t help but hear a snippet of their conversation.
“No way. I don’t think they are.” One of the girls stated.
“Really? Did we not just see the same thing?” The guy in their group asked. “They must be dating. I mean, Butters just kissed Stan.”
“Yeah, but-”
Stan didn’t stay long enough to hear her rebuttal, it’s not like he wanted to either. The tingling on his jaw felt intensified in that moment. The nerves were coming back. The nausea was too.
He tried to hurry to his class, but instead of taking the right at the end of the hallway, he turned a sharp left and went straight to the bathrooms. He crammed himself into one of the stalls before bending over the toilet and emptying out his stomach.
He pulled away from the toilet, grimacing at the new taste in his mouth, and at that moment, the tardy bell rang. He groaned out a “Fuck,” and moved to get up. He flushed the toilet and left the stall to clean himself up at the sink. He cleaned off his face and made sure to swish around some water in his mouth and spit it out to try to help with the bittersweet taste he had.
He wiped his face with a paper towel before trudging out of the bathroom to head to his first class of the day. He dreaded the glare he was sure to get from his teacher and the whiny voice she had whenever she would screech at a late student. He reached the classroom of his Life Science class and gave a deep sigh before knocking on the door to be let inside.
-----
Stan was right. He did in fact receive an earful from his teacher about being late, even when he tried to explain that he wasn’t feeling all that well, so yelling at him wasn’t helping… This only made her yell at him more. He was happy to leave when the class ended. As much as he enjoyed the class, the teacher ruined it for him over the past year.
He reached his next class of the day, Poetry, only to see a note on the door that told his class that they were taking place in the library instead. He groaned and turned away to head to the library instead.
Once he reached the library, he greeted the librarian and she told him that his class was being held towards the back, near the large windows and second exit. He thanked her and made his way towards the back where he saw a group of tables sectioned off with a sign that read ‘poetry.’ After finding a table in one of the corners, he set his belongings down on it, not exactly wanting to welcome others to sit with him. Though, he did leave enough space for an extra person to sit across from him, not wanting to be the victim of another yelling spree.
He pulled out his notebook for his class and opened it, knowing exactly what their teacher would want them to do. Use your surroundings to write your next poem. Try changing up your positions and scenery, this could help you with your writing process. He opened up to a fresh page, trying to think of something specific to write about.
“Hey, dude,” a mellow voice called out to him, making him look up to see Douglas. “Mind if I sit here with ya?”
He shrugged. “Yeah, man.”
He mumbled out a thanks and sat across from him while Stan looked back down to continue to stare down at the blank page he still had. He didn’t exactly feel inspired to write a poem for the moment. He decided to look around at the new surroundings of the blocked off corner they were seating at as he tapped a gentle beat with his pencil. His other classmates were moving around, wandering the library, or taking new, strange positions in their chairs. Their teacher was seated in a lounge chair, reading a book, peeking up every now and then to make sure everyone was still okay. He perked up when he saw a peek of untamed blonde hair. Tweek. He could talk to him now. He needed to apologize to him anyway.
He leaned forward and waved his hand in front of the teen seated across from him. “Hey, Douglas.”
He glanced at him and pulled out one of the earbuds from his ear. “Yeah?”
“Can you watch my stuff?”
“Yeah, man. I gotchu,” he told Stan as he placed the earbud back into his ear.
“Thanks, man.” He stood up from his seat, bringing his notebook with him. He slowly made his way to where Tweek was sitting by himself.
He stopped beside him, hoping he would notice, but to no avail. Instead, he continued to write fiercely on whatever had gotten him inspired. He gently tapped the table to get his attention. “Tweek, hey.”
The blonde jumped in his seat with a shocked yelp and looked up at Stan with wide eyes. “Stan!” He scrambled to cover the notebook. “Wh-what do you- ggrr- want?”
He motioned to the chair next to him. “Can I sit here?”
He stared at Stan with wide, flickering eyes. He pressed his lips together and looked back down at his journal. “Fine.”
He pulled out the chair to sit next to him and stared back at the blank page he had. He began to tap out another beat with his pencil, trying to think of how to converse with the blonde at the moment.
“Stan, wh-what do you want?”
He looked back at him, noticing how he had an annoyed look now. “I… I wanted to apologize.” He stopped tapping his pencil. “Well, I was trying to think of a way to apologize.”
“For?”
“For… getting upset and yelling at you the other day. I took some time to myself and realized that… that you were right in a way.” Tweek didn’t say anything, he only stared at him with owl-like eyes. Stan decided to add, “About Butters. You were right about him and I thought it over and finally decided to do something to make it up to him.”
“Like?”
Stan bit his lip. Would Cartman count this against him? It wasn’t like he was spilling out his idea entirely. “Uh… Well, I was gonna take him to watch the meteor shower tomorrow.” Tweek twitched and Stan immediately thought he didn’t like the idea himself. “I know, I know. It sounds boring but…” Cartman wants him to do it...
Tweek’s eyes lit up and he smiled. “I think he would love that.”
“Really?”
He nodded. “Craig and I usually invite him and Kenny and his sister to watch it with us. Craig knows all the good spots.” Stan grimaced. The last thing he wanted to do was ask the other ravenette for help. Tweek noticed this and continued on. “Ah, w-well there’s a good spot near Middle Park High. There’s this open park, Lansen Park, I think. You could take Butters there?”
Stan nodded and thought for a moment. “
“You can…” His eyes brightened. “It could be like a picnic date. I can help you make some food if you want.”
“Really?”
He nodded rapidly. “We can start setting up during lunch tomorrow and skip Variety. Mrs. Duran loves me so she won’t care much if I let her know today.” Stan has never seen Tweek this excited before. “Tolkien and Nichole could help too! They could set up the spot while we get the food ready.” He pulled out his phone and began to quickly tap away at the screen. All Stan could do was watch the blonde with his mouth agape. “I can make you guys cupcakes!”
“You don’t-”
“Butters really likes vanilla and lemon cupcakes. He has to be in the mood for chocolate or to try anything new.”
“Tweek-”
“Or should we make cookies, he loves cookies. He’s usually my taste-tester whenever I bake something new.”
“Tweek!” The blonde flinched and looked at him with wide eyes. “You don’t have to do this. I can find a way to do it myself.”
He tilted his head and leaned forward. “But I want to do it, Stan.”
He groaned and pinched his nose for the moment.
“Stan,” he looked back at him, “I want to do this, so I’m going to do this.”
The determined look on his face almost made Stan laugh out loud, but he was scared that the blonde was going to turn feral if he did so or if he refused the offer again. He sighed. “Okay, fine.”
Tweek went back to smiling. “I’m so excited for this. I’m sure Butters will love it. You’ll tell me how it goes, will you?”
“Yeah, sure.”
He turned back to his notebook, shaking his head at himself for letting this happen. He didn’t even know how they had even gotten there. He just wanted to apologize, not invite him to plan the entirety of the ‘date.’
He heard Tweek shift in his seat. “Urgh, Stan?” He hummed in response. “Are you feeling okay?”
Stan looked back at him. “What do you mean?”
“You’re, like, either upset at something or sad nowadays. There's barely an in-between anymore. I mean, mn, you smile, but it doesn’t look right. Are… are you not feeling good?”
He shrugged. “I’m fine. I can be upset or mad, you know.” He looked over towards his original table to make sure his belongings were untouched.
“Okay, well…” Stan looked back at the fidgety teen and saw him picking at one of the band-aids on his hands with a frown. “You can talk to me too. It doesn’t just have to be about Butters, you can talk to me about other problems too. Craig does that with me; letting me talk about how I feel and he just listens and lets me know…" He drifted off. He was silent for another moment before speaking up again. "W-we could do that too. I mean, we’re friends, right?”
Stan nodded. “I think so.” He shrugged. “You do get on my nerves sometimes.”
“Huh? I do!”
Stan chuckled. “I’m just messing with you, man.”
Tweek pouted and smacked his arm, which only made him laugh.
“You’re such a jerk!” He paused. “Hey, are you… are sure you’re okay?”
Stan looked at the blonde with his eyebrow raised in question. “I’ll be fine, Tweek.”
“No, no. It’s not that. You keep on, uh…” He poked at his own jaw, making himself flinch. “Touching your jaw. Does it hurt?”
He quickly dropped his hand and felt himself become embarrassed. “Ah, no. It doesn’t.” He didn’t realize that he was touching the spot from earlier. How long had he been doing that? How many times did he do that in front of Tweek? God, he felt like throwing up again. He swallowed the sudden overflow of saliva in his mouth and turned back to the blonde. “It’s, uh, noth…” he drifted off. Could he ask Tweek about the feeling? Would he know about the sudden bundle of nerves he would get practically out of the blue when being close to Butters? Does that happen with him and other people? Before he could stop it, he told him, “Hey, I have a question.” Tweek looked at him. “So, uh, I tried to ask Kenny but it… didn’t exactly work out. I, uh… How do I-?” He sighed, becoming frustrated with himself. “It started whenever I dropped Butters off on Tuesday. He-”
“Tweek!” Stan immediately stopped his explanation of the situation on his mind when the familiar, annoyingly nasally voice called out. The pair turned to the owner of the voice.
“Craig! What are you doing here?”
“We’re about to test out the hover toys we made outside.” He pointed towards the window. “Wanna watch?”
“Sure!” He turned back to Stan. “What were you going to ask?”
He opened his mouth but was quick to close it. Taking a small glance toward Craig who was watching him intensely, he shook his head. “Nothing, man. It’s not important.”
Tweek’s eyebrows knitted together. “Are you sure?”
Stan nodded. “Yeah. You’re good, man. You can go with Craig. I can wait.”
The look he gave Stan was uncertain, but he still began to grab all of his belongings. He stood up and leaned towards Stan, lowering his voice. “You- gnh- have my number, right?” Stan nods, noticing the harsh look given to him by the taller ravenette teen. “J-just call or text me and we can talk about it.” He gave him a smile before leaving with Craig.
Stan groaned once he saw the pair leave the building and let his forehead hit the table.
Fuck. Why did he say that? He really needed to get off his chest how he felt. He didn’t understand it and he didn’t like that. He wanted to know why he felt that way. He didn’t think he would last long without vomiting again.
-----
Tweek didn’t come back after he left, which didn’t help Stan at all. A part of him had hoped he would come back so he could finally tell him about it instead of waiting until he snapped. But today wasn’t that day, unfortunately.
The bell rang and Stan moved to grab his things, thanking Douglas for watching them for him as he did so. He made sure that he still had everything in his bag before leaving the library to go to his third class of the day, Regular Trigonometry.
This was another class where the teacher didn’t care much about what they did after they finished learning the new lesson of the day. All he had to do was shut up and make sure he made his notes understandable enough for his homework. Easy.
Their lesson of the day was a lengthy one, but after an hour or so, it had come to an end. Stan and his classmates received the homework for the lesson and were left to their own devices.
Stan didn’t want to work on the homework at the moment. He never did it when he got it anyways. Instead, he decided to look around to see if there was anyone he would bother talking to for the moment. The third familiar blonde of the day caught his eyes. Fuck it, why not? Maybe she could actually give him some advice for his ‘date.’ He stood from his seat with his pencil and notebook and walked over to the girl in question.
“Hey, Bebe.”
She held up her newly manicured index finger at him as she finished writing down whatever number she construed. Once she was done scribbling them down, she tapped on her phone and pressed pause on whatever she was listening to. She looked up at him with a big smile as she pulled out her headphones from her ears. “Hi, Stannie!”
He motioned towards the empty spot beside her that held her bag. “Do you mind?”
“Yeah, sure.” She grabbed her bag and placed it nearby her feet as Stan sat down in the now available seat.
“Thanks…” He looked down at the sheet and drummed his pencil against the desk. “So…” He paused before sighing. “I… I think I need your help.”
“Okay!” She began to adjust her notebook and calculator on her desk. “Now, this lesson is kicking my ass, but I think I’m getting it.” She leaned closer to look at his sheet. “What do you need help with?”
“No, not with the work.”
“Oh,” She leaned back in her chair with her arms crossed, nodding as if she suddenly understood. “I knew it. I knew the day would come.”
“For what?”
“To fix your greasy ass hair. God, do you know how much I have to hold myself back from holding you down and cleaning it? Seriously, Stan!”
“What? No!” He lifted his hand to touch some of the loose strands that peeked out from under his hat. She was right. “Okay, maybe it is, but that’s not why I need your help either.”
She rolled her eyes. “One of these days, Marsh.”
He rolled his own eyes in turn. “So, anyways, long story, short: I don’t know how I did it, but Tweek planned my entire ‘date’ with Butters.”
“You… wanted to take Butters on a date?”
He froze and after a moment, he slowly nodded. “Yes, I was going to take Butters on a date.”
She smirks. “Let me guess, Cartman’s idea,” she whispered.
He scoffed out a laugh but nodded as if to answer ‘yes’. “No, it was totally my idea.”
She laughs. “I gotcha, I gotcha. So you just want my advice, right?”
He nods. “Yeah, uh… what do I do?”
“For?”
“Like, while we’re there on the date together.”
“Stan… I’m a girl…”
“Yeah.”
“And I’m interested in men…”
“Yeah?”
“Stan, the answer I will give you is just advice on how to get him to like you enough to get laid.”
He felt his face become a dark shade of red. “No! I-I don’t-!”
She held up her finger again, making Stan immediately snap his mouth closed. “I know, I know. That’s the last thing you want. ” She gently tapped her chin as she pouted her lips and looked up in thought. “If I actually had to try to give you genuine advice… I’d say just… act like you usually do with him. Just treat as if you two are hanging out without the guys. You don’t have to romanticize it if you don’t want to. Take away everything with Cartman and it’s just two friends hanging out, right?” She shrugged. “It can also give you both time to actually talk to each other about everything without pressure from anyone else at this gossip-driven school.” She nodded to herself. “Damn, I should do this more often, I’m fucking good at this.”
Stan snorted out a laugh. “Sure.”
“You say it as if you don’t believe in me, Stannie. You’re so mean to-”
Out of the blue, she grabbed Stan’s face and contorted it to an awkward angle. “Ow, Bebe! What are you-”
“Sweetie, there’s nothing there. Why do you keep on rubbing it? It’s annoying me.”
She let go of his face and he rubbed his left cheek where her nails dug into his skin. “I don’t know. I just…” He began to think of Butters and the tingling came back. “It’s just bothering me, that’s it.” He rubbed at it again and practically had to force his hand away. “So, you just want me to throw out everything Cartman put in our heads for tomorrow night and just… hang out.”
She snapped her fingers into a finger gun. “Exactly.”
He thought over it for a moment. Thinking of how much he had to do for the stupid date he had to sit through tomorrow. What she said… actually helped? He sighed and nodded to himself. “Okay… Okay, I think I got it. Thank you, Bebe.”
She smiled brightly. “You’re welcome, Stannie.” She grabbed her headphones and moved to place them back into her ears, but stopped. “Oh, and Stan, if you want to add ‘extra points’, wash your hair and look nice - decent, even. It’ll look like you're taking your ‘date’ seriously to him rather than half-assing it.”
“That just sounds like a sneaky way to actually make me ‘doll up’ for you.”
“Oh, you know it.”
He laughed. “Okay, just for you, Bebe.”
She pumped her arm in triumph. “Yes!” The bell rang for the class to end. “Holy shit, already?” She and Stan began to grab their belongings before meeting each other at the door. “Are you ready for practice?” She asked him as they began to walk together to their next shared class.
He shrugged. “I think I got enough not to fuck up today, so I’ll call that a ‘win’ for now.”
“Stannie!” She whined.
“Bebe!” Stan mimicked her.
“Our concert is next week!”
“I know.”
“Please tell me that you’ll actually be ready for the concert.”
“I will, I will, don’t worry.”
They reached the choir room and Stan opened the door for them both with his free hand. Just as they walked in, he saw Tolkien setting up his own guitar for their practice. He looked up at them and immediately waved them over.
Stan walked over to him with Bebe in tow to find out what the teen had wanted.
“Hey, Tolkien.”
“Hi, Stan.” He nodded at the blonde. “Hi, Bebe. So, uh, could you tell me why I got a message from Tweek telling me to skip class tomorrow?”
Bebe raised an eyebrow at him asking him for an answer from him as well.
Stan sighed. “I brought up the date in passing after I apologized to him and he insisted on helping out. Then he said that you and Nichole could help and then he just kept on going on and on about what to do. I tried to say ‘no,’ but he looked all determined, but murderous when I did. I’ve never seen him like that before, dude. It was scary as hell.”
Tolkien laughed. “Yeah, you can thank Craig for that. He’s been trying to get Tweek to go for things he likes. It’s wholesome but scary.”
“Tell me about it.”
The tardy bell rang and the sound of heels on tile immediately followed. “Okay, ladies and gentlemen, I want you to start preparing immediately. We only have so much time together. We’ll go through our problem songs first. Let’s go, let’s go!”
Stan dropped his bag onto the bleachers behind Tolkien.
“I’m guessing I’m going to have to talk to Tweek about this, then.”
Stan pulled out his guitar and sat on the stool beside him. “You already know.”
-----
After school had ended, Stan said his goodbyes to his friends in his final class before stopping by the bathrooms to change into his uniform for another shift at work. He then had to wait for Butters in his car for him to finish showering from his Auto Repair Workshop Class. Though it had taken longer than it had last time, it was worth not seeing him almost freeze himself to death with the lack of clothing.
He dropped Butters off at his house before driving to his job, Mick’s Churros and Delights, and immediately headed inside.
“Stan! Great, you’re here,” was the first thing he heard when he stepped inside the building. The manager, and owner, of the workplace, came from the back with a worried look on his face. “I have to go because of a family emergency. I’m leaving you in charge for the night. Clyde and Daisy should be coming in at any moment and I already have the next batch of goods in the oven with timers. If it’s slow, you can close early. Thank you.” He didn’t give Stan a chance to say anything before running out.
Stan sighed and slipped behind the counter to grab the drive-thru headset for the moment and to look at how long he needed to wait for until he needed to pull out the next batch of sweets for their night shift. After clocking in, he began to wait impatiently for his two co-workers to show up, not particularly happy to be the only one there to deal with people driving up or coming in just to give him attitude for a fucking churro.
After some time, a familiar “Hello, hello!” chimed along with the bell of the door.
Clyde popped up with his usual happy nature as he clocked in and Stan was more than glad to shove the headset he had in his hands and push him towards the designated register. “Stay,” he told him as if he were a learning puppy as he left to go check the schedule. It’s been thirty minutes past her time. Where the fuck was Daisy? He came back out to see Clyde already at work with a customer at the drive-thru. He walked to him and tapped his arm.
“Yes, sir, we do have unsugared churros. Yes… Okay, does everything look correct on the screen?” He looked at Stan to show he was listening.
“Daisy?”
He shrugged, mouthing ‘no clue.’ “Alright, your total is going to be 11.38. Thank you.” He moved past Stan and immediately started to grab the customers’ order.
“Fuck, so it’s just us two then because I have no fucking way to contact her and Mick left.” He looked at the order screen and grabbed the sauces for Clyde as he bagged up the order.
“Shit, man.” He grabbed the sauces from Stan and placed them in the bag before moving to meet the customer at the window.
Stan and Clyde went back and forth between completing orders and meeting up with the customers within the span of three hours. Their desserts were slowly running out and so was their patience, especially Stan’s. After a very tiresome customer, Stan hit his head against the wall. “I might just close us early.” He looked at the brunette. “I don’t want to fucking stay if we’re understaffed with two people.”
Clyde nodded but looked a bit nervous. “Yeah, I get it, man.”
He pulled out his phone to text his manager to let him know of the situation but noticed a text from Tweek with a list of items he said he needed for tomorrow. He sighed at the message. He finally sent a text to Mick and turned to Clyde who was intensely staring at the few remaining churros. “Dude, wanna go to the store with me? I’ll buy you something.”
He had a look of excitement flash across his face. “Yeah, dude! Think you can drop me off home?”
Stan shrugged. “If you want me to.”
He smiled. “Awesome.”
“Okay, let’s go.” Stan shoved his phone into his pocket and moved to clock out.
“Now?”
“Yeah.” He grabbed the remaining churros and placed them in a bag for Clyde. “C’mon.” He began to make sure everything was properly shut down for the night before officially closing down the building. He handed Clyde the bag of extra churros as he enabled the alarm before making a beeline to go outside. As they stepped foot outside, they saw a few cars pull into the drive-thru. They shared a look and, choosing to ignore them, ran to Stan’s car. As they settled in, they made sure to drive past the line, laughing at them as they exited the parking lot. Stan drove them to the nearest grocery store, trying not to grimace too much at the lingering smell of churros on them.
After making it to the grocers, the two hopped back out of Stan’s car and made their way inside and grabbed a cart. It was quiet between them for the moment; Stan leading Clyde around the store as he nibbled on his churros. As they walked around and picked up specific items, Stan would glance down at his phone every now and then to make sure whatever he was grabbing was what Tweek wanted. The silence between them finally broke whenever they reached the aisle that held a large variety of chips.
“What do you even need all this for?” Clyde asked him, motioning towards the cart.
Stan hesitated. He slowly pulled a large bag of potato chips off the shelf. “I’m, uh, setting up something.”
Clyde bumped shoulders with him with a growing smirk. “For?”
“It’s something for… Butters…”
His face lit up. “Are you setting up a date~?” He asked very loudly.
Stan felt his face warm up. He hushed at him with a “Dude, shut up!” He didn’t know what was so different this time versus the rest of the day, but he felt embarrassed by the way Clyde said it to him. He looked back at the chips in his hands. “I… I guess you can say that, yeah.”
“Aw~! How cute!” Stan glared at him, which only got an awkward smile in return. He scratched the back of his neck as he reached for a bag of barbeque chips. “Ha ha, wasn’t that funny, Stan?”
“No.” He grabbed the chips from his hand, placing them in the cart before briskly walking off towards the fizzy drink section. It was silent between them once more, aside from Clyde’s low comments about how ‘cute’ the idea was… but Stan chose to ignore him as he did.
Stan looked down at the phone to see which soda to choose, but it wasn’t specific. He guessed it was free-range. He walked down the aisle and stopped when he saw the bright blue, red, and yellow he was looking for. He wrinkled his nose at the fruit punch soda that he knew the platinum blonde was fond of, not particularly fond of it himself. He pulled it off the shelf, along with a drink he knew he would like for himself. Clyde picked up a single bottle of soda for himself and placed it in the cart alongside his chips.
After going down the list on his phone one last time to make sure he was all set, he motioned for Clyde to follow as he went to the front where a cashier was already available for them. The two teens began to place all the different food items on the conveyor belt for the girl in front of them who looked like she was ready to pass out. Once they finished, they stood back and waited for the girl to finish up on her end.
“So…” Clyde spoke up again, making Stan grimace. “Is it going to be like a romantic dinner with, like, a movie or-”
“Clyde, if you don’t shut up, I’m not buying you shit.”
A look of terror flashed across his face. “No. You wouldn’t.”
“I would, now shut up, will you?”
There was a silence between once again aside from the slow beep of the employee scanning their items. “But,” Clyde spoke up again, making Stan look at him with furrowed eyebrows. “If you two kiss, you gotta tell me.”
Stan’s eyes widened, before narrowing. “Dude, shut the fuck up.”
Clyde began to laugh, pointing at him. “Oh my God, man! Your face is priceless!”
He pushed him, making him double over as he laughed harder, and turned to the girl scanning out their items. He pointed at the barbeque chips. “You can take these off.”
The brunette immediately stopped laughing. “No!” He put his hands out to stop the girl from reaching out to take them. “Not my chips!”
Stan nodded. “You’re right.” He pointed at the bottle of Dr. Pepper. “He doesn’t want the soda.”
Clyde whined as the girl grabbed the soda and set it off to the side. Now that made him shut up.
Once all their items were bagged they placed everything back into the cart and left the store. They headed to Stan’s car and made quick work of putting everything into the backseat of the car. Once they were finished, Stan turned on his car and waited for Clyde to return after offering to put back the cart.
He hopped inside and Stan began to drive them home. It continued to stay silenced between them for half the ride, but Clyde ruined it once again. Stan was sure he had a problem with it being a little too quiet.
“Why did you take away my soda?”
He sighed. “Because you wouldn’t shut the fuck up, Clyde.”
“But you two are cute together. You could be the next Tweek and Craig! I mean, come on! The happy, ‘buddy-buddy’ blonde with the pessimistic douche of SPH.” This made Stan glare at the brunette, but it didn’t stop him from talking. He gasped and continued on. “And today I heard you two kissed today! Do you know how-”
“We did not kiss!” He was beginning to feel light-headed.
“Whoa, man. You don’t have to yell at me. I'm just saying that it would be cute to see you two together.”
“I’m not gay! That won’t fucking happen.”
“Neither am I, but if you gotta kiss a bro, you gotta kiss a bro, you know.” Stan’s grip on the steering wheel tightened. “I mean, some people have told me and Tolkien that we would be a cute couple, and, hm, I don’t think either of us yelled at them.” There was a sarcastic bite to his tone.
Stan wanted to just drive his car into one of the passing lamp posts and hope for the worst. “Clyde, shut up…”
“I really don’t understand why you’re mad. I just said what my opinion was. It isn’t my fault that you have such a fragile masculinity to see things like I do.”
“I don’t-” He huffed angrily. “I’m mad because you keep calling me gay!”
“Dude, not once did I say you were gay. What I said was a joke!”
“I don’t give a shit if it was a joke or not Clyde! I’m seriously pissed off about everything with Butters and people like you are making it worse!”
He scoffed. “I’m making it worse?”
“Yes!”
“Fine.” He crossed his arms and began to pout like a child.
The rest of their ride was silent with the atmosphere heavy. After some time, he pulled in front of Clyde’s house and parked his car. “Get the fuck out of my car.”
He huffed. “Geez, you seriously can’t take a joke.” There was a pause in their ‘conversation’ as Clyde moved to get out. He grabbed his belongings and clutched his chips in his hands as if it was his last lifeline. He moved to close the door but stopped to lean down to look at Stan again. “Hey, Stan?”
“What?”
He tried stifling an upcoming laugh. “I’m guessing you can’t take a dick like you can’t take a joke, huh?”
Before Stan could respond, he slammed the door closed and bolted to the front door faster than Stan has ever seen before.
Summary: It was only meant to be a stupid game of dares, 'The King's Game.' But, of course, nothing could go Stan's way. Cartman thought it would be hilarious to get under everyone's skin with his stupid dare and he did. Now, Stan had no way of getting back with Wendy because he was stuck with this dare.
Butters didn't care too much about the dare in its entirety. Stan was a cool guy and maybe they could get closer. He didn't see anything wrong with this dare from Eric. But, oh boy, if his parents knew, he'd sure be grounded. After this dare ends, he and Stan could still be friends, right?
What was the dare?:
Stan and Butters were forced to date for two months.
~~~
When Butters awoke the following morning to his alarm clock blaring beside him, he shot up and clutched at his chest. He fumbled as he reached out to hit the alarm button, trying to silence it. He sighed in relief and lied back down for a moment, staring at his ceiling. He realized that he was warmer than usual and found his hands touching around the added material around his torso. He then realized what the thick material was.
Stan’s coat.
He clutched the collar of the coat and brought it up to his nose to take another deep breath. Fuck, his smell was intoxicating. A familiar warmth ran through his body and he shifted in his bed. He let his eyes fall closed as he let one of his hands trail downwards, his touch light. He pressed his nose more into the coat as he slowly began to rub himself through the thin material of his pajama bottoms. He gave a blissful sigh and let his hips buck upward to gain more friction.
A loud banging at his door made him jolt upward, hands leaving their spots to attempt to hide what he was just doing. “Butters? Butters! I know you heard your alarm. Get up right now!”
“Yes, sir!” He clambered out of his bed and pulled off the coat. He began to quickly dig through his closet and pulled out a pair of slacks and his usual white button-up shirt. He grabbed his towel and went to leave his room. He was met with the familiar angered man standing in front of his door with crossed arms. He looked down towards the ground, feeling embarrassed. “I’m sorry, sir.”
“You better be. Now, go clean yourself! You’re disgusting.”
He nodded, feeling his face become warm. “Yes, sir.”
His father stepped aside and Butters made a beeline towards the bathroom to shower. He stripped himself down and turned on the water. He immediately hopped in and flinched when he felt the water on him. He made sure to keep the water cold to try to get rid of his problem. He shivered under the temperature, but he attempted to clean himself as best as he could.
Once he finished, he turned off the water and stepped out, reaching for his towel. He made sure to dry himself and pull on his clothes before styling his hair for the day. He always found this aspect to be difficult with only being able to see through one eye, but he would manage.
He placed his pajamas in the laundry bin, knowing his mother had her Wednesdays off and preferred to do the laundry then. He left the bathroom and immediately went downstairs to go to the kitchen. His father wasn’t anywhere to be seen; most likely went back into his bedroom. Butters sighed in relief and turned on the light in the kitchen.
He began to make himself some breakfast, something large to make up for the missed meal of the following night. Cooking was another thing he struggled with, but it didn’t stop him from enjoying the activity. He added light seasonings of salt and pepper to his eggs and bacon as they cooked.
He lowered the temperature and left them to proceed to the pantry where he grabbed the oatmeal flakes. He grabbed an extra pot and began to make himself a serving.
He began humming to himself, the familiar song about apples he would always sing as a kid, as he continued his preparation. Times like these, where he was alone and doing something he enjoyed, he loved. Pretending he was alone in the house with no worries in the world, that was always where his mind would wander to.
Once he decided that the food was ready, he moved them off the heat and began to set the table for his meal with a small glass of orange juice. He set his plates down and sat himself down at the table to eat.
His time of solitary bliss came to an end when he heard loud footsteps coming towards the kitchen. He mentally prepared himself as his father walked in.
“Hi, dad. Want me to make you anything?”
“No.” His response was quick. He dug through his coat pockets before pulling out a phone and slamming it on the middle of the table. Butters had to force himself not to flinch every time his father did this. “Here’s your phone. I’m heading to work,” he told him before briskly leaving the kitchen.
“Have a good day!” Butters called to him, but the only response he got was the front door slamming closed. He sighed and reached forward to grab his phone. He took a glance at the screen to see if it had formed any cracks. With how many times his father threw or slammed his phone, it never gave in to crack, at most, it would gain a small scratch or two. Butters was grateful for that, he wouldn’t have enough money to constantly keep on buying a new phone for himself.
He unlocked his phone and the immediate notification to pop up was a message sent to him during the night from an unknown number: 937-4329. He hesitantly clicked on it and read the three message bubbles that were sent to him during the night.
Hey
This is Twerk
Tweek! It’s Tweek!
Butters giggled to himself at the autocorrect as he added Tweek’s number to his contacts. He responded with a:
Hi, Tweek!
Did you need something?
He set his phone down for the moment and finished eating his breakfast before it was too late. He stayed in his seat for a moment to relax and let his breakfast settle before grabbing the dirtied dishes to clean them in the sink. For a brief moment, he wondered what Stan was doing - if he was still asleep, if he was eating now himself.
As he finished cleaning the last dish, he saw his mother walk in. “Good morning, mom. Do you want me to make you anything?”
She groaned and ran a hand over her face. “A coffee.”
“Okay!” He immediately went to work, going to the pantry to grab the ground coffee to make a cup. He tried to focus on his task rather than interacting with her, trying to not get on her bad side for the time being.
Two sugars and a dash of cream. That's how she liked it. He repeated that in his head as he waited for the coffee to be made into the pot. It took a bit of time, but it finally finished. He grabbed a mug for his mother and began to pour her a cup. He added her likings and grabbed a spoon to stir them in better before handing the mug to her.
“Thank you, Butters.”
“You’re welcome.” He cautiously reached for his phone. “I’m gonna go to my room until I have to go to school. If that’s no problem, ma’am.”
She waved her hand at him as she took a sip. “That’s fine.”
He left the kitchen before she could change her mind. He quickly made his way up to his room to be left alone. Grabbing his bag, he settled himself on his desk and turned on his computer. He began to continue his research on different colleges and scholarships he could apply to and writing down notes on his findings.
His phone buzzed two times and he reached over to pick it up to see who had messaged him. It was Tweek again:
Just wanted to check on you
Figured we should stick together considering everything
He leaned back in his chair and began to type out a response. Well, that’s nice of you! I’m good so far! How about you? He sent the message and expected to wait a bit for the next, but was surprised when it came almost immediately.
I’m good
Just trying to get used to not having Craig around as much
He continued to text Tweek to pass the time. He’s never talked to him like this, but he liked it. They ended up talking about Stan and Kenny, just brief points of how they were at the moment before another text popped up. It was from Stan:
hey i’m outside
Butters perked up and took a peek out of his window seeing that Stan was indeed waiting outside his house in his car. He began to run around his room, grabbing his belongings. He was used to being ready to leave on his own accord, not someone else’s. He grabbed his black dress shoes as he fumbled with shoving his homework in his bag trying to quickly leave his room. He hopped on one foot as he tried to pull his shoe on before alternating to do the other. He ran down the stairs and popped his head into the kitchen for a moment. “I’m going to school now, mom.”
“Alright, Butters. You have a good day.”
“Okay! You do too,” He told her as he left the kitchen.
He reached the door and he suddenly remembered something he had forgotten to do. He considered just leaving it be for the day, but he remembered that his mother was off and poking and prodding through his room was one of the things she liked to do. He dropped his bag beside the door and left to go back upstairs to his room. He quickly locked his computer to at least prevent her from looking through that. There wasn’t anything else he could do about anything else in his room.
He left his room and went back downstairs to grab his bag and leave the house. He reached for the doorknob before a sense of panic ran through him. He turned and quickly ran back up the stairs. He went to his room and his gaze landed on the brown mass on his bed. He grabbed it and tried to fold it to the best of his abilities and make it seem like he hadn't worn it to bed.
He heard knocking on the door, making him move quicker. The last thing he wanted was his mother to open the door and begin to question Stan. He clutched onto the coat and ran back down the stairs, catching his mother coming out of the kitchen. “I got it! I got it!” Luckily, she left without a question. Oh, to have his mother always not fully awake to be up his ass.
He checked himself with his phone for a moment to make sure he still looked decent. He shoved his phone in his back pocket and took a deep breath before opening the door with a smile. "Good morning, Stan!"
Stan looked as though he was going to pass out at any moment, the bags under his eyes more prominent than usual. He mumbled a 'good morning' back before turning to trudge back to his car.
Butters stepped out of his house, locking the door before following Stan. “Oh, Stan!” The said boy stopped and turned to look at him, yawning into his hand as he did. “Here’s your coat.”
Stan looked down at the coat before looking back up at Butters’ face. “Keep it.”
Butters blinked in confusion. “Huh? But… but it’s yours, Stan.”
He shrugged. “I have others. Just keep it.”
He didn’t trust himself to keep it. “No, it’s yours. I don’t want to keep it.”
Stan sighed. “Aren't you cold?”
Butters shook his head and held out the coat towards him once again.
He pushed it away gently. “Honestly, Butters.”
He watched Stan’s face. He would usually ignore the cold, using any other means to keep warm except for wearing a jacket. ‘Style over comfort’ his mother would always say. He sighed, giving in. “Well, just a bit.”
“So, wear it.”
Thoughts of what he was about to do as he wore the coat after he woke up made a wash of shame run through him. “No, I… I can’t. I…” He couldn't finish. He felt a lump grow in his throat to stop him from talking.
Stan sighed again. “Fine.” He took the coat from his hands and shrugged it on over the hoodie he was wearing. He nodded towards the car. “Let’s go.”
Butters reached his side and settled himself in while Stan got himself strapped in before starting to drive them to school.
Just as their former rides were, it was silent aside from the music playing. Deciding to not bother Stan for the moment, he pulled his phone back out to see another message from Tweek. Something complaining about Craig that had made him giggle. He sent something back among the lines that he wouldn’t have to deal with Craig that much, and how it was the same for him, but it was with Kenny. Though, he might’ve made everything worse by running away yesterday.
Tweek had sent a quick message about needing to go, Kenny now picking him up, but suggested to talk to him.
I can try if you want me to
I’ll leave that up to you
Butters thanked him and let him know that he’d try himself, not wanting him to burden himself with it. He went to turn off his phone, but another bubble popped up from Tweek. The message made him look at Stan, who was more focused on the road.
Stan talked to me yesterday
He feels bad for everything and says he wants to make it up to you
He smiled at the teen and turned back to his phone.
Aw, that's sweet of him.
Butters placed his phone in his bag as Stan pulled into the parking lot. He pulled his bag into his lap and waited until Stan parked his car to get out. When the car stopped and was turned off, Butters heard Stan give a deep sigh as he hopped out from his side. He looked at him concerned, but Stan paid no mind to him as he began to grab his things. Butters placed his bag over his head and onto his shoulder, tracing the strap along his chest as he watched Stan. He was moving slower than usual with a far off look in his eyes. He took a step closer to him and went to ask him if he needed any help, but Stan slammed the door closed and moved to walk towards the school. Butters followed him and soon caught up with him to walk by his side. They stayed quiet as they made their way to the front doors of the school.
He noticed that Stan didn’t make a move to hold his hand like he had done the day before. Butters looked at their hands, close but not touching. He wasn't sure whether to take initiative or not. Instead, he decided to speak up in hopes to get the unusually quiet teen to talk.
“Stan?”
He hummed in response.
“Are you okay?”
He hummed again. “Mm, yeah. Just tired.”
“Oh, okay.” He decided to leave Stan alone again, not wanting to bother him any further.
As they walked side by side, some giggling nearby caught his attention. He looked over to a group of girls, a few he recognized as past flings, and saw them looking at the two. He smiled and waved at them, but was quick to notice a sour expression on one of their faces. She was also someone he dated for a bit throughout his Sophomore year, Kelly Pinkerton-Tinfurter. She whispered something to the girls and they all immediately gathered together to seemingly gossip.
He felt a chill run through him and he had a gut feeling that they were speaking about him, specifically about him and Stan. Knowing that he had a fifty/fifty chance of getting a negative reaction or getting him to play along, he slipped his hand into Stan’s gloved one. He felt him jolt and he looked up just in time to see him look at him with wide eyes. He smiled at him and carefully wrapped his free arm around Stan’s own to be hugging it as they walked. He leaned his head against his shoulder, risking a glance towards the girls.
“What are you-?”
“They’re watching us,” he spoke in a low voice so only he could hear.
Stan's mouth opened and after a moment, closed. A pink dusted on his cheeks and he saw as his eyes scanned over the people they walked by. “Oh… right, right. People are watching…” He mumbled.
Butters looked up at Stan, noticing how he looked like he was about to explode. With a pout, he told him, “Stan, you mind looking like you enjoy this instead of looking like you’re constipated?”
He looked at him with a shocked expression before a light laugh came from him. “Dude, I do not look like that.”
Butters laughed himself, happy to have gotten a reaction out of him, a positive one at that. “You do!” They reached the steps of the school and he took another glance at the group of girls, now noticing how they were all frowning at the two. He smiled and waved at them, Kelly glared back.
Once inside the building, Butters moved himself away from Stan but kept their hands together as they walked through the halls. They passed by some other people he knew, and he waved at them, making sure that he was notably closer to Stan than he usually was. The girls and his classmates were sure to spread it around and Eric could leave them alone. Well, at least dial back a bit from them.
They reached their lockers and broke apart for the moment. Butters went over to his locker and squatted down to unlock it. He made sure to keep what he needed and take out what he didn’t. He added his book for his psychology class and closed his locker. He stood up and went to stand by Stan’s side. He placed a book back into his locker before closing it. Stan turned to him and they both looked at one another for a moment.
Butters tried to hold back a shudder he felt coming from his intense stare. He swallowed and took a small step closer to him. “Should…” Butters cupped his mouth with one hand and leaned closer to whisper the question to him. “Should I kiss you?”
Stan noticeably grimaced. He immediately tensed when he realized what he did. “Ah, sorry, I-”
“It’s fine. You don’t have to.” He began to fiddle with the strap of his bag.
Stan swallowed his pride and decided to ask him, “Want me to walk you to class?”
He looked at him and shrugged. “It’s fine, Stan. You don't have to force yourself.” He moved past him. “I’ll see you after school.”
Stan stood there for a moment longer, trying to prepare himself for the day, but nosy eyes were watching him. He tried to shrink himself into his coat and quickly moved away from their stares.
He reached his English class and greeted the teacher, who then told him to grab a school laptop. He grabbed one for himself and quickly found his seat. He set up the computer on his desk and pulled his book out from his bag. He pulled up his document, but didn’t immediately start his work, instead, he pulled up a game to mess around on until he felt the inspiration to actually work.
One by one, the classroom began to fill in with each student as Stan tapped on the keys as his character jumped over gaps in the ground.
He heard the seat beside him being pulled back
“Hey, dude.”
Kenny sat beside him but didn’t reciprocate the greeting. He chose not to say anything about it. Instead, he turned back to his screen and continued the game.
The bell rang and their teacher was quick to give them instructions to work on their essays and when it was due to be turned in, she then left the class to their own demise.
His thoughts began to drift to Butters, as much as he didn’t want to think of him at the moment. He didn’t know how he could easily change and adapt to the whole situation. Didn’t it bother him to pretend to date each other, and for two months? Clearly not with what he’s been like over the last two days… or maybe he was just a really good actor. But… the hug he seemed to want felt genuine. When they shared that hug, he felt as if he was about to pass out. It especially didn’t help when Butters was staring at him for almost the entirety of it. He felt… nervous? Maybe it was because of Cartman putting ridiculous ideas into his head about the whole dare. Maybe he just didn’t feel good. Either or, he couldn’t sleep because of it.
With a quick glance towards Kenny, making sure he wasn’t paying attention to his screen, he began to lower the brightness of the computer. He opened up a search engine, hesitating before typing in ‘why do i feel nervous when i hug someone,’ and pressed enter. He scrolled through the pages, but all that popped up were different sites of having anxiety or why it’s good to hug people, nothing that seemed to catch his eye. He sighed and retyped the search, this one now making him feel embarrassed, ‘why do i feel nervous when i hug a guy.’ This time he had gotten results about signs a guy can show when he’s nervous. He bit back a groan. This wasn’t helping. He glanced at the blonde sitting next to him. Would Kenny know?
He tried to disguise the question - lead up to what he actually wanted to ask. “Hey, dude, how are you getting along with Tweek?”
He waited for a moment, but Kenny didn’t respond. He leaned forward to try to get somewhat into his line of sight.
“Dude?” He continued to type away at the computer. Stan sighed and poked his arm, thinking he couldn’t hear him. “Kenny?”
“Are you an idiot or do I actually have to spell out that I don’t want to fucking talk to you?”
He scoffed. “What’s your fucking deal, man?”
He didn’t respond, but Stan could see his eyebrows furrowed.
“If this is still about Butters, you're overreacting. If he had a problem, he could tell me himself. You don’t have to be all in his ass about it.”
He only got his arm raised in a manner of disbelief along with a shake of his head. “I’m overreacting,” he told Clyde, who just awkwardly looked between them.
“You are.”
Kenny looked at him and only glared at him, hard. “You are such a dick, you know that?”
Stan scowled and turned back to the laptop. Kenny wasn’t going to help. “Isn’t it just the craziest thing? I suddenly can’t understand you - must be the huge ass parka.”
This earned a kick to his leg, but Stan only kicked back. They kept at this for the rest of their class, making snarky remarks and causing new bruises on each other’s shins.
-----
When the bell rang for his English class to end, Stan was more than happy to leave. Kenny was getting on his last nerve and if he had stayed any longer, he wouldn’t have hesitated to reel back and punch him. He gathered his belongings and left as quickly as he could to get his next classes over with.
His Music Theory class and his Athletics class passed by in a breeze. Nothing new; he did as he always did in the classes. Completing his new instrumental assignments for the day and then becoming sweaty as he trained with the rest of the football team, which always resulted in him needing a shower.
After the shower, he dressed and quickly headed to the cafeteria to grab and pay for his lunch. He left the line and looked for his group’s usual table. He saw the familiar green ushanka sitting across from an orange parka. With a deep breath, he forced himself to keep his snarky remarks to himself as he sat himself beside his best friend.
Kyle immediately snapped to look at him. “Oh, thank God, you’re here.”
He looked between the two, Kenny not particularly looking interested. “What, uh… What happened?”
“I hate being paired with Craig.”
“Here we go again,” Kenny’s voice, though muffled, sounded annoyed.
“So, yesterday, we came to an agreement that he could start driving me to school. I went to his house this morning, met his family, nice people,” he shook his head, “Not the point. I had to sit there and awkwardly explain that we-” He stopped himself, stabbing at his packed lunch with his fork as he faked a gag. “I don’t even want to say it.”
“So, you met his family and you're mad?”
“That is not why! He wasn’t even awake when I got to his house! Then that,” he watched as Kyle’s eyes scanned the room before pointing directly at Craig, “fucker decided to take forever, not giving a flying fuck that I had to deal with his parents for him. Because of him, we were almost late to school and he doesn’t give a shit. And he even insisted that we wait for Kenny and Tweek to show up. Do you know what he said when we finally got into school and I said that we could’ve been late?” He didn't let Stan answer. “‘But we weren’t.’ ‘But we weren’t,’ Stan!”
But you weren’t late. Stan only thought this, not trying to risk his outburst to be aimed towards him instead.
“But…” Kenny started slowly. He was taking the risk. “You weren’t late, right?”
Kyle turned towards him with his eyebrows deeply furrowed. “It doesn’t matter if we were or not. We were almost late! What if we’re late tomorrow because he’s being an asshole again?” He turned back to the ravenette. “I can’t stand him. Stan, I don’t think I’m gonna last two months doing this. I don’t know how Tweek-”
Cartman sat across from Stan, making Kyle stop himself from talking any further. He intertwined his fingers and set his chin on it, keeping his eyes on Kyle. Stan looked between the two. Cartman had a smirk on his face and Kyle had his eyebrows furrowed as his face slowly began to grow red with fast-growing anger.
“What do you want, Fatass?”
“Well, if you must know, Jew-boy. I want you to go get your boyfriend and bring him over here.”
Kyle’s face grew even more red. “Why?”
“Because I need you to, Kawl.” He waved his hand at him. “Now, go get him and sit with the other twinks. I need to talk to him” This earned a small laugh from Kenny.
Kyle began to sputter, obviously upset at being called a ‘twink.’
Stan sighed. “Dude, just go. You know he says those things to get under your skin.”
Kyle began to pack his lunch. “I can’t believe you’re taking his side.”
“Don't be too surprised.” Kenny snipped.
Stan glared at the blonde, but he only glared back.
“Aww~! Kenny’s all mad because Stan stole his little boy toy!”
Kenny’s glare shifted to Cartman. “Don’t call him that.”
“You didn’t deny it~” He turned back to Kyle before Kenny could officially react. “Well, we’re waiting.”
Kyle rolled his eyes and stood up, grabbing his things as he did so. “Fine. I don’t even want to know what you guys are going to talk about.” Stan knew that was a lie.
“Yeah, yeah.” Cartman waved his hand at him. “Bye. You can go.”
Kyle scrunched his nose, but said nothing as he left towards Craig’s table.
Stan sighed. “Cartman, what is this even about?”
Cartman held the fork he was using between his teeth as he began to dig through his bag. “You’ll see.” Just as another chair was being pulled out along with the sound of a tray slamming down at their table, Cartman pulled out a plastic pencil box. It was seemingly filled with small blank pieces of paper. “Craig, good, you came!” With the way he said it, Stan couldn’t tell whether he was sarcastically jabbing at him or not.
“What do you fucking want?”
Cartman narrowed his eyes at him. “Well, I’ve been racking my brain over everything, how to use my authorit-ah as king to… progress your relationships.”
Stan groaned while Craig muttered out a ‘fucking Christ’ and Kenny laughed, asking, “Did it fucking hurt thinking that hard?”
His face grew aflame as he turned to punch Kenny in the arm, who just laughed a bit harder.
“You’re an asshole, Kinny!” He huffed and placed the box in the middle of the table so they could all equally surround it. “I came up with an idea. I want you guys to go on dates with your new lovers.” He said this with a raise and lower of his eyebrows.
“Dates?” Craig wrinkled his nose in disgust. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Yup!” He grabbed the box and shook it to mix the contents on the inside. “I took the honor, because I’m a nice king, to come up with the ideas. You just have to pick one.” He opened the box up and smiled. It was a smile Stan knew he couldn’t trust.
“This is dumb.”
"Don't you start with me, Craig. If I remember correctly, you were sitting with Tweek, not Kyle." This earned an eye roll from Craig. “Now why is that Craig?”
“I didn’t want to sit with Kyle and you dweebs.” He leaned back in his chair with crossed arms. “Highly doubt Kyle would be on board with changing seats.”
“I don’t give a shit about what you want,” Cartman hissed at him. “Just fucking take a paper and deal with it. Stop having such a huge dick up your ass. Christ!”
“No.”
Stan sighed as they began to bicker, Cartman giving Craig threats as he retaliated with sarcastic and simple remarks. He began to wonder for a brief moment if he should just give up and let Cartman enjoy his show of torture porn with him in the spotlight, but his thoughts began to drift to something that changed his mind.
He had thought back to the conversation he had with Tweek the day before, one of the rare times where he wasn’t jittery from too much caffeine. ‘Butters is human too, you know. He’ll have his bad days and he’ll have his good days, even when he looks like every day is the best one he’s had. I… I think you should give him a chance. He’s a really sweet guy and he’s always willing to help if you need it. And, hey, you never know, you can find some unhindered feelings you may have.’ All of this was said with him playing the piano instrumental of the song they needed to work on. He huffed out a small laugh at the memory with a slight shake of his head. He always found Tweek to be a bit strange, but in an endearing way. Unfortunately, he sort of yelled at him after that.
“Something funny, Stan?”
Stan looked at Cartman, his face a bright red. “Nah, man. It’s nothing.” He chose to listen to Tweek for the moment. He reached into the small plastic box and shuffled the small pieces of paper around before carefully pulling out a single slip of paper for himself.
“See! Stan isn’t being a little bitch, Craig. Thank you, Stan!”
Craig gave Cartman one of his signature middle fingers as Stan opened the folded paper. Meteor Shower Date. “I got-”
Cartman intensely hushed him. “That’s only for you and Butters to know. Jesus, Stan.”
“Why can’t we know?” Kenny asked.
“Because I don’t want you and Craig trying to interrupt each other.”
“I really don’t give a shit about what he’s gonna do with Kyle.”
“No, but you do care about what Stan is going to do with Butters.”
At this, Kenny glanced at Stan before glaring at Cartman. “Stop saying that.”
“Stop making it true,” he retorted.
Kenny scoffed and reached into the box himself. “This is a load of shit.”
“Exactly my point,” Craig chimed.
Cartman looked as if he was going to explode with rage, so Stan decided to say, “So, we just tell them you want us to do this and we do it. That’s really all to it.”
“No! Do not tell them that it was my idea. You have to make it look like you thought of this, got it?” He glared at Craig. “Got it?”
Craig gave an annoyed sigh. “Whatever. This is still dumb.”
“Goddamn it, Craig. Why can’t you just shut the fuck up?”
The two began to bicker again. Stan took this time to stare down at the paper he held. How in the world was he going to bring this up? Isn’t it too early to do something like this? Wouldn’t Butters know that he wasn’t the one to come up with the idea? He glanced over where Butters sat with the other two teens forced to do this dare. He was currently laughing at something Jimmy had said, who had a lopsided smile of triumph. Stan felt a drop in his stomach and his mouth become dry. He pulled his eyes away from them just in time to see his heavy-weighted friend begin to grab his belongings.
“Text. Me.” Cartman stood up with the box tucked under his arm, beginning to repeatedly do the ‘I’m watching you’ gesture with his hand, walking away from them backwards. Stan shook his head. For some reason, Cartman was really adamant on having them stay together for the two months. But… why?
Stan began to eat his lunch as quickly as he could before they were kicked out of the cafeteria by the lunch ladies. It sucked having to sit by the two people he currently disliked, but there wasn’t exactly a better place to go.
He heard Craig huff and saw him stand up with his tray. “I can’t do this. I’m not sitting here with you twats.” Stan watched as he walked back to his table and forcibly pushed Kyle to the side to sit himself next to Tweek. He shook his head and turned back to his meal, but not before noticing Kenny intensely staring at him.
Great. Way to make it extra awkward, Kenny.
He tried to ignore him, hoping it would help get rid of the unsettled feeling he had. He finished his lunch and began to gather his belongings to leave the uncomfortable situation. He briskly walked over to the trash bins to throw his trash away and began to leave the cafeteria.
Trying to ignore everyone else in the room, he passed by other groups trying to get to the door. As he passed by the final table and reached the door, he heard his name being said. He paused and turned to look at the table, which was filled with a group of gossiping girls. He made eye contact with one of the girls, a blonde he didn’t recognize. She smiled and winked at him. He gave her a half smile and left. He didn’t know why they were talking about him, but he had a bad feeling.
As he began to wander around the hallway, the bell rang for students to make their way to their final class. Stan made his way to the choir room to meet up with the music group he participated with. The class was a double block so he had them for both his days, one class with their singers, one class without.
Once reaching the room, Stan went to find a seat on the bleachers and began to unpack his acoustic guitar along with his music sheets. He looked through his sheets and found what he circled to work on and he began practicing. Over time, the other students came in, the only ones he relatively knew were Tweek and Tolkien. He watched as the two shared a quiet conversation next to the piano and Stan wondered for a brief moment if he should walk up and apologize to Tweek. He wasn’t sure what he should say. He decided to do it later whenever he had come up with a good way to apologize to him without it sounding half-assed.
He continued to focus on the sound of his guitar as he scanned through the pages of his music. As he played, he heard someone settle themself beside him. He took a peek and saw that it was Tolkien. “Hey, man.”
“Hey.”
The was a pause between them
“So…” Stan looked at Tolkien, who still kept his focus on his own guitar. “What did you and the guys talk about?”
He rolled his eyes. “Fucking Cartman. It’s like-” He paused himself. He couldn’t risk openly talking to Tolkien about it. He gave a gentle strum to fill the sudden silence between them. “It’s like one thing isn’t enough, you know?” He hoped Tolkien would get what he was trying to say.
He nods and joins Stan in his strumming,
“Yeah, I get it.” He gave a small scoffing laugh. “He was practically bouncing in his seat in Debate.”
“Yeah, sounds like him.”
They ended that conversation for the time being and played alongside each other for practice. Stan going over certain parts he knew would be difficult and Tolkien just going along with him.
After a while of all the mixed insumentals, the familiar clicks of heels came out of the corner office of the choir room. Their instructor popped into view scanning the room, before stopping on the pianist. “Tweek, dear, can you come here?” The faint playing of the piano stopped. “I have your new sheet papers for our new songs,” she told him before disappearing again.
“Okay,” he quickly replied. He stumbled over the bench and awkwardly made his way towards her office.
As soon as he disappeared behind the door, Stan quickly turned to Tolkien. “Don’t tell Cartman I told you this. He wants us to do dates. Like he came up with ideas and everything and had us pick a random one.”
Tolkien gave a short laugh. “Oh shit, really?”
Stan nods. “Don’t tell Tweek either. Or Kyle, or Butters. Cartman said he wanted us to look like we came up with the ideas.”
He arched up an eyebrow. “It’ll be really obvious if you guys aren’t really feeling the ‘relationship.’”
“I know!”
“What are you supposed to do?”
“I got a ‘meteor shower date’ or whatever. It’ll give me time to mentally prepare myself at least.”
“It takes you two days to do that?”
Stan stopped and looked at Tolkien. “Two days? What do you mean?”
“The meteor shower is on Friday.”
“Friday? This Friday?” He nods in response. “Fuck, I’m supposed to be working.” He pulled out his phone from his bag. “Hold on.” He unlocked it and began to look for Cartman’s contact. He quickly sent him a message:
Meteor shower?
Dude i work on Friday i can't do that
“Can’t you just do something else?” Tolkien asked. “It’s not like Cartman would know.”
“Probably not. I’m not gonna risk it though. I know him and he’s crazy.”
“Boys, no talking.” Stan jumped at the sudden voice and looked over to their teacher who was looking at the pair with narrowed eyes. “Focus on your songs.”
“Sorry, Mrs. Barker,” the two simultaneously apologized.
The two shared a look before continuing to play their songs.
-----
After the class was over, Stan began to pack away his guitar and made sure it was properly placed before closing the case and grabbing his belongings to leave. He gave a small goodbye to Tweek and Tolkien and left the room. He began to make his way through the hallway, making sure to stop by the bathrooms to change into his work shirt. The stupid pink and white uniform that smelled of churros no matter how much he washed it. He made sure to make sure he looked decent enough in the mirror before regathering his belongings.
Before he left the bathroom, he checked his phone.
well you better figure something out
Stan groaned. Fuck. He shoved his phone into his pocket and shrugged his coat back on before making his way through the hallways once again. He finally left the school and walked through the small crowds of people to find his car where he usually parked it.
Unlocking it, he placed his bags in the back seat before climbing into the driver’s seat. He turned on his car and sent a text to Butters asking him if he still needed a ride. As he waited for a response, he took the time to change out his CD. He grabbed his phone again and began to scroll through it as he waited.
He heard a tap on his window and he looked up to see Butters waving at him. He unlocked the doors to let him in and he watched as the teen settled himself in the passenger seat. “Sorry, I was hangin’ with Craig and Kyle in the library,” he told him as he strapped in his seatbelt.
“You’re good, dude.” Stan leaned forward to turn up his music and began to drive him home. They didn’t speak any more than that, keeping their usual silence between them. Stan noticed that Butters wasn’t in such a bad mood as he was yesterday. He wondered for a brief moment what it was exactly that had gotten him so out of character. He wanted to ask, but didn’t think Butters would want to talk about it at the moment.
After a bit, he reached the familiar brown house and parked in front of it. He turned down the volume of the music, but as he did so, it had raised his nerves about the following question he knew he had to ask.
“Thank you, Stan.” He saw him reach for his bag. He needed to ask.
“Yeah, no problem… So, uh, Butters,” he saw him perk up from his seat to look at him, “Are you doing anything this Friday?”
He looked up in thought. “I don’t think so.” He looked back at Stan. “Why?”
“I…” he paused, trying to think of a way to tell him. “I've been wanting to apologize to you for the way I’ve been acting, so,” he took a deep breath, “in celebration, I guess, of our ‘relationship,’ I wanted to treat you to something.”
It didn’t take him long to brighten up considerably. “Like a date?”
He felt his face begin to flush as he began to feel awkward. “Y-yeah, I guess you could say that.”
“Really? Ah geez, Stan, you ain’t gotta do that.”
Stan hesitated. “But I am.”
“Yes! I don’t mind.” His smile faltered. “Oh, well, I’d have to ask my parents first, but I’ll let you know.” With a wide smile, he turned to open the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”
“Yeah…”
He hopped out of the car and gave Stan a small wave. “Bye, Stan.” He closed the door and left him alone.
Stan watched as Butters walked up to his house and entered it after a moment. Why would he agree on going on a ‘date’ with him? It's not like he actually wants to. He probably knew that it wasn’t his idea. He didn’t understand why Cartman wanted them to do this so badly.
Stan sighed and started to drive again, this time passing by his house to go to his workplace instead. He tried to come up with an excuse to give to somehow get a night off on Friday.
He parked in the lot of the dessert place he chose to work at, Mick’s Churros and Delights. He sighed and let the back of his head hit his seat. He dug through his bag and pulled out the matching pink hat with the signature churro on it and replaced his beanie with it. He climbed out of his car and made his way towards the building.
Now to try to convince his manager to let him off his shift on Friday.
Summary: It was only meant to be a stupid game of dares, 'The King's Game.' But, of course, nothing could go Stan's way. Cartman thought it would be hilarious to get under everyone's skin with his stupid dare and he did. Now, Stan had no way of getting back with Wendy because he was stuck with this dare.
Butters didn't care too much about the dare in its entirety. Stan was a cool guy and maybe they could get closer. He didn't see anything wrong with this dare from Eric. But, oh boy, if his parents knew, he'd sure be grounded. After this dare ends, he and Stan could still be friends, right?
What was the dare?:
Stan and Butters were forced to date for two months.
~~~
as soon as you both can get together make sure you convince EVERYBODY that you and butters are buttbuddies
holding hands kissing hugging
Then the next two texts were sent a few minutes after that.
shit even fuck around in the bathroom and have someone walk in
if you dick off this dare stan ill make you tegrrt it
*regret
Stan kept on rereading the text messages Cartman had sent him yesterday with a frown. They were specifically directed to him, so he was sure Butters had received something different to make him immediately jump in and come to his house.
He wanted to be more open-minded about the situation like maybe he and Butters can have a better relationship in the end. But thinking about how Cartman wanted them to go above and beyond with holding hands and kissing each other made his stomach churn. It’s not like he didn’t want to do this because Butters was ugly. He wasn’t. He grew up to be a good-looking guy, even Stan could admit that. Though, he’d never say that aloud. All he knew now was that he couldn’t explain why he felt so nerved by this situation.
Maybe it was because he wasn’t as close to Butters as he was to his other friends. He didn’t know much about his family life either, just that his parents were dicks. Stan remembered how he had gone through a mini rebellious phase against his parents at the beginning of high school; dying his hair black, staying out late, even joining his gang to do the crazy shit they always found themselves in. He remembered how he and Kenny supported him that week. After that, Stan didn’t know what happened, Butters came back looking as he did before as if nothing happened. Stan never said anything about it, but deep inside, even now, it bothered him.
He always kept his appearance tidy yet casual now, dressing as if he was going to church every day. It was usually a sweater with a white-button up underneath. Stan would always wonder how Butters wasn’t freezing his ass off half the time. Maybe he could give him a new sweater or a jacket as an apology. Though, he wasn’t sure if that was going to fix anything.
“Stan? Stanley, did you hear what I said?”
He looked up at his mom, who was now staring at him from her spot in front of the refrigerator. He didn’t realize that she was talking to him at all. “Huh?”
“Your father has been complaining to me about you not talking to him. Can you try giving him a call?”
Stan shrugged. “I don’t really want to.”
“Why not?”
He shrugged again. “Dunno.”
She sighed, but dropped it, leaving him alone to stare back down at his phone and stab at the eggs he made.
He stood up from his seat after a moment and poured the rest of his eggs into Sparky’s bowl. He gently stroked his head as he began to eat them before leaving the kitchen.
He walked over to the couch and sat himself down next to his bag and his guitar case. He began to scroll through his phone to pass the time, liking some of his friends’ posts as he did so. Stan paused when he saw a picture of Wendy smiling with her parents. They were all seated at their dining table with their plates of breakfast, smiling at the camera. Mom surprised us with breakfast! Love you, mom!
He took another second to stare at the picture. She seemed so happy, but… was she? He wanted to know how she was fairing after their breakup, but he wasn’t sure if he should. His thumb hovered over her icon for a long moment before slowly pressing on her name to go to her account. He knew that this was a decision that he was going to wish he didn’t do, but it also satiated him for the moment. He scrolled through the pictures on her page taking note of how none of them shared any hint that she was distressed. Of course, there wouldn’t. Why would she want to share that with the world?
Even when he found out his answer, he continued to scroll through her page. After a bit, he began to notice that one factor was missing from her account; him. All the pictures of him and Wendy were gone and he felt his heart sink. She really didn’t want to get back with him. She actually meant it this time. He clenched his jaw and clicked off her account before he had gotten himself upset. He clicked on Clyde’s profile and began to scroll through his. It was still packed with pictures he had taken from the party. That made his mind wander to the dare, and the dare made him think about Butters.
His eyes wandered from the bright screen to the hand that he was using to scroll with. He thought back to yesterday and how he had held hands with Butters. He remembered how warm his hand felt in his own and he felt flushed at the memory, though he didn’t really know why he did. He’s held hands with others before, both girls and guys, but why was it so different now? He wondered if he should get his gloves to wear for the day and after a moment of consideration, he placed down his phone and decided to run back up to his room to grab them.
He made his way back down the stairs, pulling on his red gloves. He moved to pick up his phone from the couch to check the time. It was 8:03. A good time to head out. He shoved his phone in his pocket and picked up his bags and adjusted them in his hands, heading towards the front door. “Mom, I’m heading out!”
He opened the front door just in time to see Butters standing there with his hand reaching towards the doorbell. “Oh!” He retracted his hand and clutched the straps of his bag. “Good morning, Stan!”
Stan pressed his lips together in a thin line. “Butters, you’re here...” Again…
He nodded with a smile. “Sure am!” His smile fell. “Oh, I’m sorry. Did you want me to stop?”
“Nah, it’s fine. Just…” He thought over his words carefully. “I can pick you up at your house. You don’t need to keep showing up so early.”
He noticed a look of worry show on his face for a second before vanishing, but he didn’t point it out. “Okay, I can do that.”
“Cool.” He closed the door behind him and made sure to lock it. He motioned Butters towards his car as he made his way to his own side. He placed his belongings inside and settled himself in the driver’s seat. He turned on the car and waited for Butters to finish with the click of his seatbelt before starting to drive.
Just like the day before, the ride was silent aside from the CD Stan had playing, though it wasn’t as loud as he usually played it. Stan tried focusing on the drive to the school, but he was hyper-aware of his passenger. He tried ignoring him and trying to listen to the words of the song, but Butters made it difficult to do when he was humming along to it. Stan sighed and moved to turn down the radio. “Butters?”
The blonde perked up at his nickname and looked at Stan with a bright glint in his eyes. “Yeah, Stan?”
As he drove, Stan gave small glances at him. “Are you okay with this?”
“With what?”
“With pretending to date me and whatever Cartman is going to have us do. It doesn't bother you?”
“Course not, Stan.”
He gave him a side glance. “Why?”
“Well, because you’re a swell guy.” Stan gave him a look that asked ‘really?’ “Besides, we’re friends, right? Just think of it as being a little more close to your friend.”
Stan took a moment to think about what he said. “Is that how you think about it?”
Butters looked down at his lap and began to trace his knuckles. “Yeah.” There was a moment of silence from him. “Stan, I know that I might’ve crossed the line yesterday. If you’re not okay with somethin’ I do, you can tell me. I will stop, you know.”
“I’m not okay with any of this.” He saw Butters flinch at those words, so he added, “But thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.”
They were both silent for a moment. Stan moved to turn the song back up, but not before hearing Butters quickly telling him, “If it makes you feel any better, there’s nobody else I’d rather do this dare with but you.”
Stan felt like throwing up after hearing that, but he didn’t voice his feelings. Butters definitely had a way to make you feel bad and cut deeper with just his words. He didn’t feel the same, but he felt bad for having those feelings. It felt so nice hearing that, but he felt like he didn’t deserve it. They both left each other alone, leaving the car to go back into its silence.
Stan soon pulled into the parking lot of their school and found the same spot from yesterday. He turned off the car before moving to gather his things to get out. He pushed the door open and got himself out, adjusted his bag onto his shoulders, and held his case in his left hand, watching as Butters did the same. He made sure to lock his doors before they both started to walk towards the entrance of the school.
As they walked towards the school to get out of the cold, Stan’s mind wandered back to the situation that happened around the same time. He took a glance at Butters to see him breathing into his cupped hands before rubbing them together and letting them fall back to his side. Stan bit his lip as he hesitated before deciding to slip his gloved hand into Butters’. He told himself earlier that he wasn’t going to do this, hence the gloves, but he couldn’t help himself. He continued to look forward as they walked, but he still saw Butters look up at him with a large smile from the corner of his eye. He tried to focus on making his way inside, but he still couldn’t help the embarrassment he still felt run through him as he seemed to only think about the hand in his own.
Stan didn’t know how long they stayed hand in hand, but they reached their lockers in a short matter of time. Butters let go of his hand and kneeled down to reach his locker while Stan went to his own, swiftly unlocking it. He placed down the case next to himself and emptied his bag from his books from yesterday to begin replacing them with the ones he knew he needed for today. It wasn’t much so he was able to finish up quickly.
Stan closed his locker and turned to see if Butters was still there. Butters had his eyebrows furrowed as he was trying to fold up a set of clothes and try to shove it into his bag. Stan moved closer to him to wait for him to finish. He leaned against one of the nearby lockers and watched Butters from where he stood.
He was adjusting the books and his clothing of the day in his bag before zipping it closed and swinging it onto his shoulder. He stood up and pushed his locker closed with his foot before turning to Stan. He visibly swallowed at the sudden eye contact with ravenette. “Uh, I’ll see you.” He lowered his head and moved to walk around him.
Stan clenched his jaw. He didn’t know what came over him at that moment, but he quickly grabbed Butters’ arm to stop him from walking any further. “Huh? What’s wrong-” Butters stopped his question when he felt Stan placed his free hand on his shoulder as he placed a chaste kiss on his forehead. He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing would come out.
“See you.” He felt his thumb caress his left shoulder slightly before he finally removed himself. He watched Stan turn around and walk down the hall to his own class, but Butters' whole body felt like lead. He couldn’t move. He slowly brought his hand up to his forehead, gently grazing the spot where Stan had kissed just a second ago with the tips of his fingers.
“Hey, Butters, you alright?” He turned to see Nichole standing with Annie Knitts.
“Huh?” He noticed that he was still touching his forehead and he quickly dropped it to grip the strap of his bag. “Oh, y-yeah. I’m fine, I’m great!” He smiled at her, but this only earned a look of suspicion from her.
“Okay… Well, we gotta go. The bell is gonna ring in a few minutes.”
“Right, right. Class.” His hands tighten around his bag strap. “Yeah, let’s go.” He began to walk with the two girls to their AP English class. As soon as they stepped into the class, the bell had rung and Butters quickly sat himself down and took out his notebook for the class and the discussions they had. The teacher had begun to speak, but he couldn’t focus on the words she was saying.
Butters was distracted throughout the entirety of his class. He just kept on going back to Stan. He was definitely nicer than he was yesterday and Butters really did appreciate that. He knew that Stan was trying to get by this situation the best way he can. He knew he was a bit too excited and he needed to dial it back for the time being. But if Stan was starting to go along with everything now, he didn’t know how much he could take. Every now and again, he would gently touch the spot on his forehead as the thought of Stan would pop back into his mind. He tried participating in the class discussion, but his mind was all muddled. He would mumble a made-up response whenever the teacher would call on him and hoped that she would just nod and move on, but she would constantly ask for him to speak up. Luckily, he was seated next to Nichole who would tell her the correct answer with a ‘he said…’
When the class ended, he gave a sigh of relief. He quickly packed up his things and left the classroom. He waited for Nichole across the classroom door to thank her. When she walked out he walked up to her immediately. “Nichole, I wanted to thank you.”
She smiled at him. “No problem.” They began walking together through the hall. “Are you sure you’re okay? You were really out of it.”
“Yeah, I’m just a bit distracted today.”
“Is that it?” He nodded. “Okay, I’ll believe you. But if there's something actually wrong, just know you can talk to me. I’m sure Tolkien is always open to talk too if it’s a ‘guy thing’ or something like that.”
“Aw, well, that’s mighty sweet of you. Thank you.” The door to his next class, Calculus, came into view. They both came to a stop and Butters gave her a quick hug. “I’ll see you around,” he told her before going inside the classroom, giving her a small wave.
He took a peek at the board, where the teacher of the class typically wrote down what they needed to work on for the day, as he grabbed a calculator and the class book. He sat in his designated seat, pulled out a few sheets of paper, and began to work on the assigned questions. He took his time working through the problems, circling the answers on each question he wrote down. He usually liked to keep to himself in this class. He considered himself pretty good at Calculus, but any distraction could easily mess him up.
“I heard what happened yesterday with Stan.” Speaking of distractions. He finished writing down the answer to the problem he was working on and looked up to see Wendy.
“Oh, didja?”
She nodded before pulling herself a chair to sit across from Butters. “Yeah. How are you taking this?”
He tried to focus on his work. He never exactly liked Wendy. She was a bit too needy for attention and self-centered for his taste. He forced a smile for her. “I’m fine. I know Stan is a bit uncomfortable with everything, but I think we’ll get by.”
“I don’t know about that,” she drawled. “I don’t really think you two will last with Stan’s behavior and all.” Why ask if it didn’t matter what he said? Fucking bitch. “Stan is a really honest person. Usually says what he means, you know.”
“Wow,” Butters was just trying to entertain her now, “you must really know Stan, huh?”
The smile she gave him was a proud one. “I sure do. I guess that’s what seven years does.”
Yeah, seven on-and-off years. He hummed in thought. “Oh, then I wonder what two months will do. I think we’ll get closer.”
She raised one of her eyebrows and made a face, basically asking him, ‘are you sure about that?’ “Well, I’ll wish you luck. Stan is a very difficult person; hard to manage.”
Stan isn’t a fucking dog. Butters held his tongue about his thoughts for the moment. “Thank you, Wendy. I’ll keep that in mind.”
“You’re welcome!” Wendy stood up to finally leave him alone. “Okay, well, I’ll let you finish your work.” She placed the chair back. “Oh, number twenty is wrong, by the way,” she told him before walking back to her desk.
Butters was glaring at the problem. Shit, she was right.
-----
Butters was starting to get aggravated now. Throughout the entirety of his class, Wendy kept on coming up to him to start up a random conversation; each one about Stan. It was like she was trying to prove to him that she was a better fit for this dare. If she was so worried, why talk to Butters about it? He was sure if she mentioned it to Stan, he definitely wouldn’t hesitate on taking her back, just like every other time.
By the time the bell had rung for them to leave, Butters wasn’t finished with his work and he wanted to scream at her. She tried to talk to him once more when he was putting the calculator and book away, but he briskly walked by to his desk to grab his bag. He tried avoiding her as he walked to the teacher to ask if he could finish the work at home. After getting the ‘okay’ he ran out of the classroom and tried to get away from Wendy as fast as he could.
“Butters, w-wait up.”
Hearing the familiar stutter, Butters slowed down his pace for his friend to catch up. “Oh, hi, Jimmy.”
“Are you okay? You looked r-really upset.”
Butters sighed. “Wendy was just really annoying me.”
“You looked- y-you loo- It seemed like you were going to p-punch her in the face. I’m surprised she didn’t no-n-notice.”
“She has her head so far up her ass to notice. I swear she rivals Eric.”
Jimmy laughed at this. “Do-don’t let her hear that.” Butters giggled along with him. He stopped by a door and gave a nod to Butters. “This is my stop. See ya.”
“Yeah, see ya.” Butters continued to his own class, which was now Spanish. When he reached the class, he found a seat in the room and waited to see what would make his day sink further.
-----
His Spanish class wasn’t as bad as he expected, especially when he shared it with Eric Cartman. He was surprised to find him leaving him alone throughout the entirety of the lesson. He chose not to ask him why. He didn’t want to suddenly make everything ten times worse.
Though, when he went to his Auto Repair Workshop class, the last person he’d expect had made his entire day worse than it should be:
Butters, currently in the boys’ locker room, was changing out of his clothes of the day and dressing into something both comfy and that he didn’t mind getting dirty; a ‘wife-beater’ and a pair of old sweats. Once he finished, he folded his clothes and shoved them into his bag for the time being and left the locker room.
He was one of the first people to reach their assigned school’s garage for his class. It was large enough to fit eight cars in, therefore his class was small. He placed his bag down at the front before going to his teacher’s desk to grab his notebook and the key for his assigned car. He placed the notebook and key down on his rolling stool and popped open the hood of the car.
Butters began to overlook the car to refresh himself on what he already worked on. He wrote down a quick report on the vehicle and its status before doing a mental checklist of the tools he knew he needed and started to get to work on his final project for the class.
As he worked on the car, the other students slowly made their way in to join him on working on their own projects. Craig was the first of his friends to come in, settling to work on the car on his right. Then, it was Kenny, focusing on his own car on his left.
After a while, he heard someone speak up. “So, Butters?” He looked towards Kenny at the call of his name.
“Yeah, Ken?”
“You weren’t on the bus yesterday,” he reached over to grab his rag to wipe his hands, “or this morning. What happened?”
“Oh.” He turned back to his work. “Stan’s been giving me a ride.”
“Stan?”
“Yeah, Stan.”
“Why?”
He glanced over at Kenny to see his eyebrows furrowed. “Well, what do you mean ‘why?’”
“Why is Stan giving you a ride to school?”
Butters shrugged. “I came over and he let me come with him.”
“Let me take you home instead. I don’t want you going with Stan.”
“You don’t want me going with Stan,” he repeated with a frown.
“No. He isn’t even treating you right. I’m not going to have him say some shit to you that-”
“Aren’t you supposed to be worrying about how you’re going to take Tweek home?” He saw Craig perk up from behind the hood of the car he was working on at the mention of the blonde’s name.
“You can come with us.”
Butters huffed. “Why?”
“What do you mean ‘why?’ I just told you that I don’t want you going-”
“Yeah, yeah, you don’t want me going with him. What do you want me to do? Ride the bus with you? Stan could’ve said ‘no’ and left me, but he didn’t.”
“So, what if he didn’t? It doesn’t change the fact that he’s a dick that has quickly lost my trust.”
Butters rolled his eyes at his choice of words. Over the years, he’s come to learn that Kenny is always one to overreact. Butters turned to Craig who was watching them, lazily tinkering with the engine on his assigned car. “Would you do this if Tweek was with Stan?”
He shrugged. “Yeah.”
“Are you kidding me?”
“No. If Stan had said those things to him, he’d probably tweak out. No pun intended.”
“See?” Butters turned back to glare at Kenny. “I’m not the only one who’d worry.”
“Just because he shares the same selfish views as you, doesn’t make it right,” he told him, earning a ‘hey!’ from Craig.
Kenny narrowed his eyes. “Well, technically, it’s two versus one. So, I’m taking you home.”
“You aren’t my father.”
“Might as well be. Yours doesn’t even do that right.”
Butters clenched his fists when he heard Kenny say that. “Oh, really?” Butters could admit that it hurt hearing that coming from him.
“Yes. Butters, you can’t handle Stan like I can. He’s going to end up saying something stupid to you and it’ll hurt you because you’re weaker.”
Butters felt his face become warm at those words. “I am not weak!” his voice cracked as he walked over to Kenny. “I can take care of myself. You don’t need to protect me. I can handle Stan.” He snatched the wrench away from Kenny to use for himself.
“I didn’t mean- I’m just trying to look out for you.”
He snapped his head towards him. “Well, it’s annoying knowing that you think I can’t do anything!”
“Boys!” Butters jumped at the loud voice and looked at their teacher who was watching them with a frown. “Focus on your own cars or you will hurt yourselves. You can fight with each other outside of this classroom.”
“Yes, sir,” Butters mumbled. He turned back to his car and continued to work on it.
Luckily, Kenny had left him alone for the rest of their class. He was still upset at him, and at Craig for agreeing with him. He didn’t understand their worry to force someone to do what they want. He knew he could do things for himself, he knew Tweek was strong enough to do things for himself too. He wondered what Tweek would think if he knew the conversation they had and whether he would side along with him or with his boyfriend.
The final bell rang for the day and Butters sighed in relief. He grabbed his rag and began to wipe his hands, looking over everything he knew he needed to work on for next time. He began to write down his final report of the day so he kept track of his progress.
He felt someone place their hands on his shoulder. “Wait for me after showers.” The hand left him and Butters continued to stare down at the notebook he was writing in. He looked towards the door just in time to see Kenny leave the school’s garage and into the school, chatting to one of their classmates.
Butters felt himself start to become upset and he knew he needed to leave. He briskly stood up, throwing his rag on the toolbox he had to share with Kenny, and reached up to close the hood of the car. He moved to the front of the room and grabbed his bag. He placed his notebook on his teacher's desk, nodding at him. “Have a good day, sir,” he told his teacher before quickly running across the room and leaving the garage through the door that led outside.
He immediately regretted his decision when he was hit with a blast of cold air. It was worse when he was drenched in sweat after being in such a warm room for so long. He slung his bag over his shoulder and began to run towards the football field where he knew Stan had parked his car. He crossed his arms over his chest and held onto his biceps in hopes that he could keep some of his warmth. He saw the car come into view and not far away was the familiar teen wearing his red poof ball hat. He began to sprint towards the two and waving his arms. “Stan!”
He looked towards him and he saw his eyes widened. “Butters?” He saw him jog towards his car, unlocking it and quickly placing his bags inside. The engine revved on as Butters reached the car and he pulled open the door and hopped inside, placing his bag near his feet. He sighed in relief as the heater was already put on blast and was hitting his exposed skin nicely. He let his head hit the seat and he tried to catch his breath.
“Dude, what the fuck? What are you wearing? It’s freezing.”
He turned to look at Stan. His eyes were wide and he was looking down towards Butters’ torso. He looked down at the thin undershirt he wore for the class. He looked back at Stan. “I’m sorry. It’s what I wear for Auto Repair. I can take it off if you're worried that it’s gonna get your car dirty.”
“No!” Stan pinched the bridge of his nose for a moment before moving to clutch the steering wheel with both his hands. “No, it’s fine.”
“Okay.” He clicked on the seatbelt and leaned back again. He took a peek at Stan and noticed that he seemed to be a bit uncomfortable. He thought over an excuse in his mind. “I’m sorry, I usually change, but I was worried that you would leave without me.”
He saw his eyebrows twitch up in surprise and he turned to look at him. “What? Dude, no. I’m not gonna leave you behind. Unless you tell me to or something.”
Butters’ eyes widened slightly. “Really?”
“Yeah, man. I was actually just going to wait out here and send you a text. Then, I saw you and…” He drifted off. He noticed that his eyes shifted down to look at his torso again.
He looked towards the clock and checked the time, noticing that Kenny would be done with his shower at this time. He glanced over to the school, hoping that he wasn’t looking for him.
“Dude, aren’t you cold?”
He shrugged. “I’ll be fine.”
He heard rustling and small jingles coming from Stan and he turned to look at him just in time to see his signature brown coat being shoved in his face. “Here.”
He took a peek at Stan and saw that he was trying to avoid looking at him. “Aw, gee, Stan. You don’t gotta do that. Then, you’ll be cold.”
“It’s fine.” He dropped the coat onto his lap. “Just put it on.”
Butters smiled. He had his sweater in his bag that he was planning on getting, but he wasn’t going to pass this chance. He quickly pulled on the coat and almost melted at the warmth that it still held from Stan. “Thank you.”
Stan clicked on his seatbelt and prepared to leave the parking lot, mumbling, “You’re welcome.” He began to drive and Butters took this time to look out of the window.
He was watching everything pass by them. He was trying to clear his mind of everything that happened with the white snow and the flashes of people who were walking. He crossed his arms and carefully leant his head against the window, flinching at its coldness. He closed his eyes, suddenly feeling overwhelmed with fatigue.
“Hey,” he heard Stan start, “you okay?”
He sighed. “No.”
There was a moment of silence. “Do you want to talk about it?”
He shook his head. “No.” Another silence. “I just had a bit of a rough day.” And he still had his parents to deal with. “I’ll get over it.”
“Oh. Okay.” He opened his eyes and noticed that Stan had begun to pull into a driveway. He looked towards the house and noticed that it wasn’t his own. He probably pulled in front of his own house. “If you, uh…” He looked over at Stan. “If you ever need someone to talk to or to just listen, I don’t mind doing that. I mean, we’re going to be stuck together, so might as well.” Stan noticeably tensed and his eyes widened. The expression on his face made Butters bite back a laugh. “Fuck, wait, that’s not what I meant.”
He laughed lightly. “Thank you. That does make me feel a little better.”
Stan relaxed. “Sure, dude. Whatever you need, you’re my friend.”
Butters smiled fondly at him. He suddenly felt overwhelmed with mixed emotions and he couldn’t help a question from forming at his lips. “Can I…” He quickly stopped himself. He was sure Stan wouldn’t want to.
“What?”
“It’s nothing.” He leaned forward and grabbed his bag. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” He gripped the handle to open the door.
“Butters, what do you want?”
He squeezed the handle. If Stan reacted badly, he could just pull and run. His house wasn’t that far, just a few houses down. He sighed before saying in a soft voice, “Can I hug you?” He was staring hard at his shoes, anticipating his response.
“A hug? Dude, is that it?” He nodded. He heard the driver door open and he snapped his head up to see Stan getting out of the car and Butters immediately felt dread fill his body. Whether Stan had just left the situation or he only got out to make Butters feel worse in a more physical way, it left him heartbroken.
The door on his side opened and Butters looked up at Stan with wide eyes. He awkwardly got out and was ready to bolt down the sidewalk. He looked at Stan and was surprised when he lifted his arms and held them open. Butters stared at him for a moment and was sure that this was a trick of some kind. Stan only gestured for him to come forward with his arms.
With a growing smile, he dropped his bag to the ground and immediately wrapped his arms around his torso, placing his hands on the back of his shoulders. Butters was only a few inches shorter than Stan, but it was enough to place his head in the right spot - the crook of his neck. He took in a deep breath, noting how Stan smelled of whatever cologne he was wearing and a hint of something Butters couldn’t pinpoint. The hug was nice and comfortable, though he could feel that Stan was tense, he still appreciated that he allowed him to do this. He pulled back a bit and looked up at Stan for a moment, relishing in the moment until it ended.
Stan moved slightly and was now looking back at him and he felt himself become embarrassed at the closeness. He was sure he had been staring at him for a little too long, but he wanted to use this opportunity to take in all of his features. His favorite feature was his eyes. They were a clear shade of a blueish grey, but that wasn’t what drew him to them. It was how much emotion he showed through them, whether it was passion, happiness, or sadness. He had dark circles under his eyes now, and Butters felt saddened at this. He knew that Stan had his days where he had trouble sleeping and he wished that he could help in any way. He was trying to look into his eyes to find what he could see right now, but it was a bit difficult looking into both with only one eye and being at such a close range. Stan had gotten really handsome over the years. Even with the fact that his appearance was the last thing he had thought about when going anywhere didn’t change that. He even had stubble growing at the moment, but his face was usually clean-shaven. He always considered Wendy to be very lucky to be with Stan. He always wondered why she broke up with him, what Stan had even seen in her.
If he was given the chance to kiss the ravenette, truly kiss him, at least once in his lifetime, Butters would definitely take it. He swallowed and tried to get rid of those thoughts for the moment as he smiled up at him. “Thank you, Stan. I really needed this.” He noticed that Stan’s body temperature was becoming very warm and he had to hold himself back from reaching up to touch his face to see if Stan was coming down with a fever.
As quick as the hug started, it ended just as fast with Stan harshly pushing him away. Butters didn’t have a chance to ask him what was wrong because Stan practically sprinted to his front door telling him that he’d see him tomorrow.
Butters looked at the door that Stan disappeared behind. “Oh… Okay, see you tomorrow,” he mumbled to himself, knowing that Stan wouldn’t hear him either way. He picked up his bag before walking towards his own house.
He groaned aloud when he saw the two cars of his parents in the driveway. They were both home early. He walked up to his doorstep and pulled his keys out from his bag before unlocking the door. With a sigh, he opened the door and walked in. “Mom, dad, I’m home.”
A response was immediate. “Butters, do you know what time it is?” His father exclaimed.
“I think it’s almost four-thirty, sir.”
“Yes! Where were you? I know you leave early on both days so you should be home at two. Two thirty at the latest. Look at your mother, she’s worried sick.”
Butters took a glance at his mother in the kitchen, not particularly upset at his 'lateness.' He didn’t dare point this out. “I’m sorry, sir. I’ve been getting a ride from one of my friends, but he can’t leave early because he has full classes. I have to wait until he’s done to get back. I’m not foolin’ around; honest.” He tried explaining to him. Then he remembered that his early days only took place on every other day. “Oh, but today I had my four classes, so I would be coming home around this time anyway.”
“Are you talking back to me?”
“No! No, sir, I’m not. It’s just my schedule’s always been that way.”
“Give me your phone and go to your room.”
“But-”
“Now!”
Butters looked defeated. “Yes, sir.” He pulled his phone out from his bag and placed it in his father’s outstretched hand. He went to the kitchen and placed a light kiss on his mother’s cheek with a, “Hi, mom.” He quickly made his way out of the kitchen and up the stairs before his father could begin yelling at him again.
When he reached his room, he placed his belongings on his desk chair. He took off his coat, deciding to take a shower before starting to work on his homework. He grabbed his clothes and went to the bathroom, hoping he wouldn’t get into even more trouble by doing so.
-----
After cleaning himself up and getting himself comfortable in his pajamas, he began to continue his work from his Calculus class. Luckily, he wrote down the questions beforehand so he wouldn’t have to rely on his phone if he had taken a picture instead.
“Butters! Dinner is ready!” He heard his mother call.
He stood from his desk to go join his parents at the table, but stopped when he heard his father say loudly for him to hear, “No! If he wants to lie and think it’s necessary to goof around, he gets no dinner!”
He sighed and sat himself back at his desk. He shouldn’t let this bother him as much as it did. He should be used to it, but no matter how many times his father would take something away, especially his dinner, it hurt his chest. His parents were supposed to love and care for him, but they’ve never done that. They usually blame him for things he knew he didn’t do, and Butters usually went along with them. As much as he knew that deep down, they didn’t truly love him, he still loved them. They were his parents. He needed to.
After finishing his Calculus work, he took a glance around his room to find something to entertain himself until he could fall asleep. He could go on his computer, but he didn’t feel like looking through any messages he had gotten, whether it came from his phone, which he had connected it to, or from Coonstagram. It was also risky if his father suddenly walked in.
Maybe he could read a book, he hasn’t done that in a while. He looked towards his dresser and saw a couple of books settled at the top of it. He stood up from his desk and over to the small pile of books he had. He picked up a random book, making sure it wasn’t a workbook of some sort and walked over to his bed to make himself comfortable.
He adjusted his blanket and went to sit down, but noticed something on it. He picked it up in his free hand and immediately recognized the item. It was Stan’s coat. He completely forgot that he was wearing it. He considered asking if he could return it to him, but he highly doubted that his parents would let him at the moment.
He bit his lip and placed down the book he was planning to read on his bedside table. He looked around his room as if he was surrounded by peering eyes before hesitantly lifting the coat to his nose and taking in a breath. It still smelled like him. He slipped on the coat and sighed. It was like Stan was hugging him again.
He crawled under his covers and curled up into his bed, watching the sun slowly setting itself. He felt tears prick at his eyes and he tried to blink them away. He was really glad Stan hugged him earlier. He's been needing one for a long time and God knows it wouldn't come from his parents. Though, he did wish that it had lasted longer. Stan was warm… He wrapped his arms around himself and tried to press himself into his pillow, pretending that he was actually being held by Stan once again. He closed his eyes and tried to force himself asleep, but it proved difficult when he felt tears begin to slowly fall. He covered his mouth, so he wouldn’t give his parents any clue about his crying, and he gave a silent sob.
Summary: It was only meant to be a stupid game of dares, 'The King's Game.' But, of course, nothing could go Stan's way. Cartman thought it would be hilarious to get under everyone's skin with his stupid dare and he did. Now, Stan had no way of getting back with Wendy because he was stuck with this dare.
Butters didn't care too much about the dare in its entirety. Stan was a cool guy and maybe they could get closer. He didn't see anything wrong with this dare from Eric. But, oh boy, if his parents knew, he'd sure be grounded. After this dare ends, he and Stan could still be friends, right?
What was the dare?:
Stan and Butters were forced to date for two months.
~~~
The drive back home was a silent one. Stan allowed Kyle to drive them back to their homes, considering that Kyle had two light drinks compared to whatever amount Stan had drunk. His head was already throbbing, more so over the nightly events rather than the alcohol.
“So… you’re stuck with Butters.” Kyle was trying to make conversation with him.
Stan tried to hide deeper in his jacket. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Well, I do. I’m stuck with Craig. Craig!” He huffed. “I’d rather have Butters.”
“Craig?”
“Yes!” he exclaimed. “Were you not listening?”
“I don’t know, man. I think I blanked out after I found out who I got.”
“So you didn’t hear Cartman’s stupid rules?”
“Nah.”
“Well, basically, we can’t tell anyone about the dare. So, to others, you’re actually dating Butters.”
Stan groaned. “This dare is stupid.”
“Seriously, dude.” Kyle sighed and drummed his fingers on the steering wheel for a moment. “He also told us that we’re gonna have ‘update meetings,’ whatever the fuck that means.”
Stan shook his head in disbelief. “I think Cartman is going to have too much fun with this.”
“Tell me about it.” Kyle pulled up into the driveway of Stan’s house. He turned off the ignition and handed the car keys to Stan. “Here you go, dude.” He began to grab his things to leave the car.
“Are you gonna stay over?” He asked him as he got out from his side.
“Can’t. I promised my mom that I’d be home earlier. I’d rather just have her kill me now than after school.”
Stan chuckled. “True. Good luck, dude.” He walked over to Kyle and hugged him.
“Thanks, dude.”
They patted each other’s backs before parting. Stan fished his keys out of his coat pocket as he watched the other walk towards the direction of his own house. He waved at him when he had turned to look back for a moment.
As soon as he saw Kyle walk into his own home, Stan began to unlock the door to his childhood home. He slowly opened the door and shuffled his way inside. He locked the door and made his way towards the stairs in the darkness.
He froze when he heard light tapping coming from the kitchen before it went silent. He continued to make his way to the stairs and almost jumped out of his skin when he felt something press against his leg. The panting and sudden wetness lapping at his hand relaxed him. He gently traced his fingers against the top of Sparky’s head. “Hey, boy,” he kept his voice low, “you wanna come with me?” He moved towards the stairs again and Sparky began to whine. Knowing what this meant, Stan lowered himself and carefully picked him up. Sparky pawed at him for a moment before relaxing in his arms. Stan pressed his lips to the top of his head before finally making his way up the stairs.
Once he reached the top, he slowly brought Sparky to the ground. He watched his dark form make way to his bedroom door and slowly scratch at it with his paw. He huffed out a laugh as he opened the door for them. Sparky quickly made himself comfortable on his own bed that he had dragged over to be next to Stan’s bed. When Stan entered his room, he peeled off his beanie and shed off his coat before immediately collapsing on his bed. Changing his clothes was the last thing on his mind. He toed off his shoes and curled himself up to keep warm. He pulled his blanket up to cover himself and closed his eyes.
-----
Stan awoke with a small headache from last night’s episode. He didn’t drink as much as he usually did, but his body was still upset at the sudden alcohol intake. He tried to swallow, but his mouth felt completely dry. He felt gross. He pushed himself off his bed, almost tipping over in the process, and sauntered over to his closet. He heard Sparky yawn as he reached in his closet, not exactly feeling perturbed about his clothing choices for the day.
He left his room, leaving the door open for Sparky, and made his way to the bathroom for a shower. He turned on the water of the shower and began brushing his teeth as he waited for the water to heat up. He made eye contact with himself, leaning forward to look closer at the blue of his eyes. He took a moment longer to just stare before finishing his actions.
He pulled off his clothes and stepped into the shower, sighing in relief at the warm water. He began lathering his body up with his body soap, spending his time cleaning up. After a moment, he moved to stand directly under the water. He closed his eyes as he focused on the water hitting his head.
His senior year was absolute shit. Wendy had broken up with him again, but now she was completely avoiding him. He didn’t even know what he did wrong. Then the football coach decided Stan wasn’t worth his quarterback position anymore and gave it to Clyde instead. Now he was placed as a Halfback on a good day, a Linebacker if the coach didn’t want him on the offense. He didn’t hold it against Clyde, but it didn’t stop him from getting pissed off at the thought. And, ugh, the dare… Now he was going to be known for dating Butters during his last few months. It was the last thing he wanted to think of.
He huffed and forcefully turned off the water before stepping out. He patted himself dry before going to his hair, rubbing out the excess water with the towel. He usually blow-dried his hair, but he decided to skip that process for the day. After pulling on his clothes, which was a band t-shirt for ‘Hell’s Vengeance’ and a pair of dark wash jeans, and dumping his old clothes in the laundry bin, he left the bathroom.
Before going down the stairs, he peeked into his room to see if Sparky was still there. He wasn’t there, but Stan decided to pull on his shoes and grab his jacket and bag first so he wouldn’t have to come back. As he exited his room, he pulled his signature beanie over his head. He made his way down the steps and saw that Sparky was patiently waiting for him at the bottom. His mom was awake.
He dropped his things onto the couch before giving his dog a gentle pat and walking into the kitchen.
His mom peered up at him before looking back down at whatever she was working on. “Good morning.”
“Morning,” he mumbled back. He began to look through the cupboards to see what he could have for a quick breakfast.
“How was the party?”
Stan had to force himself not to groan too loudly at the question. “It was fine. I went with Kyle.”
There was a beat of silence. “Did you drink responsibly?”
Stan paused himself before telling her, “I would say so.” He began to push some boxes aside in his search. “Kyle drove us home though.”
“That’s good.”
Neither of them continued after that.
She knew of Stan’s drinking and allowed him to at times as long as she knew when it happened. He remembered his mom telling him how hiding it would probably worsen his want of alcohol, so she’d rather him drink with her knowledge of it. She also said something about it keeping their relationship good. Stan couldn’t really remember.
Stan finally decided to settle on one of the chocolate cereals his mom had bought over the weekend. He poured himself a bowl and sat across from his mom, who was writing something down. Stan didn’t bother to know what it was.
He felt Sparky place his head against his knee, something he usually did when the two sat down for a meal. The silence between them was satisfying, but it was only short-lived. Their doorbell rang, making Stan visibly cringe as it gave him a painful surge in his head.
His mom sighed, obviously annoyed at the early coming of whoever was at the door. “I’ll get it.” She pushed herself up from her seat and left Stan alone in the kitchen.
Stan grumbled to himself, sharing his mom’s annoyance. He stayed in his seat, staring at the wall, absent-mindedly shoving cereal into his mouth and trailing his fingers against Sparky’s head.
“Stanley,” He looked up just in time to see his mom walk in. “A friend of yours is at the door.”
Stan’s eyebrow perked up. “Kyle? Just tell him to come in.”
“No, it isn’t Kyle.”
It wasn’t Kyle? “Then who is it?”
She shrugged. “I believe it’s the Stoch’s kid.” At those words, Stan moved to pinch the bridge of his nose, letting a small ‘Jesus fuck’ slip past his lips. “You are friends with him, right? I thought he hung out with you and your little group?”
He let go of his nose and sighed. “Yeah, yeah, he does.” He shoved another spoonful into his mouth. “He can wait,” he mumbled.
She gave him a pointed look. “Stan-”
“I’m almost done.”
She sighed. “Okay, but any longer than five minutes, I’m letting him inside. I’m not going to let that boy freeze,” she told him before walking out again. Stan could hear her telling Butters that he would be out in a few minutes.
Stan whispered out another curse. Why was Butters at his house? He was the last person Stan had wanted to see so early. He quickly swallowed the last bit of cereal and washed it down with the flavored milk. After gently nudging Sparky off of his knee, he stood up and placed the bowl in the sink.
He sighed and made his way to the front door, grabbing his jacket and shrugging it on. As he rubbed his face to ready himself for whatever was to come, he pulled open the door and looked down at the visitor. “Butters,” he feigned surprise. “You’re here.”
“Heya, Stan!” The blonde gave him a big smile. “I hope I’m not bothering you. I figured we could go to school together.”
“Why?”
His smile faltered a bit. “Well, uh, I thought we could get a bit of an early start on everything? Eric told us that we would have to start doing it. Didn't he send you the text?”
Stan huffed. “I don't know. I didn’t check.”
“Gee, Stan, Eric’s not gonna be happy if you don’t-”
“Alright, alright.” He dug into his jacket pocket and pulled out his car keys, shoving them into the smaller’s hand. “Here, just turn on my car and wait inside. I’ll be there in a sec.” Before he let him respond, Stan shut the door.
Stan gave another harsh sigh. Butters was taking this seriously. He turned and grabbed his bag from the couch. “I’m heading to school, mom,” he called out.
“Okay, have a good day,” she called back.
He bent over and pressed a kiss to Sparky’s head. “You be good.” He patted his head before heading out of his house, glaring as he saw Butters in the passenger side of his car. He trudged over to his side and pulled the door open. He threw his bag towards the back seats before settling himself inside.
He began to pat on his jacket and felt the familiar hardness of his phone. He pulled it out from his pocket and clicked it on, seeing the many notifications pop up in recession. A message from Cartman was the last notification and Stan rolled his eyes. Not bothering to read it, he plugged in his phone to charge as he drove. He clicked on his seatbelt and began to drive him and Butters to their school.
For the first few minutes, it was silent in the car aside from the low hum of the car’s engine.
Stan huffed loudly when he heard Butters begin to hum to something upbeat. He leaned forward to turn on his radio, making the music of one of his favorite bands play loudly. He saw Butters jump in his seat at the sudden loudness. He continued to drive, glad he could pretend he was alone, even if it was for a moment.
Once he had reached the school, he pulled into the parking lot and began to look for a good spot to park. He found a spot closer to the football field and parked his car. Stan turned off the car and reached towards the back for his bag and unplugged his phone, shoving it into his pocket.
He pushed the door open and got himself out, adjusted his bag onto his shoulders. He made sure to lock the doors once Butters shut the door on his side. Stan began to walk away, trying to get away from him as soon as possible.
“Oh, Stan, wait up!” Butters popped back into his view and stopped in front of him, blocking his way. He held out his hand towards him.
Stan furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “What? What do you want?”
He laughed, but Stan didn’t understand why. “Your hand,” he finally said. “Let’s hold hands.”
“‘Let’s hold hands,’” Stan repeated exasperatedly. Even with his negative tone, Butters didn’t move, but only looked at Stan expectedly. He huffed in irritation. “Fine.” He begrudgingly placed his hand in Butters’ outstretched one. He had to hide his surprise when warmth immediately spread through his body. Stan didn’t have his gloves with him that day, neither did Butters, but his hand was warm. Stan knew he was freezing, but Butters’ didn’t say anything about it.
They began to walk through the front doors of the school hand in hand. As they made their way through the halls, Stan could feel the heat of everyone’s stares boring through him. It made him nervous, and when he’s nervous, he’s nauseous. Stan was taking long strides to get to their lockers quicker, maybe even shake off Butters. Though, that didn’t work. It only made his grip tighter and his smile wider. No matter how strange the situation was to both Stan and all the outsiders, Butters continued to wear a smile. Stan couldn’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy over this.
Once their assigned lockers came into view, Stan practically ran over to them so he could finally let go of the other’s hand. He entered his combination for the lock he placed on it and pulled it open. As he went through his head of his schedule for the day, he placed all the books he knew he needed.
“Hey, dude.”
He gave a side-glance to the new voice towards his right. “Hey, Kenny.”
“You get Cartman’s text?”
He sighed, slamming his locker closed. “I don’t know, man. Butter’s,” he motioned towards the said boy who was unfortunate to have one of the lower leveled lockers, “came to my house for a ride before I could check.” He glanced at the lighter blonde who was more focused on finding a specific book than their conversation. He looked back at Kenny. “Dude, he had me hold his hand.”
He chuckled. “Aw, cute!”
Stan clenched his fist. “No! No, it’s not. It’s fucking sick.”
Kenny furrowed his eyebrows. “Is there something wrong with being with a guy.”
“Dude, no. That’s not what I’m saying.”
“Then what’s the problem? He isn’t ‘Wendy’ enough for you?”
Stan huffed, noticing that the conversation was going nowhere with him. “Nevermind. I’ll see you in class.” He turned around to try to speed out of the hall before Butters could notice but was immediately blocked by the same person he wanted to avoid.
He smiled up at him. “Did you want me to walk you to class?”
“No, I’m fine. I can get there myself.”
“Oh, that’s fine. You have a good day, Stan.” Butters leaned forward to plant a kiss on Stan’s cheek, but Stan quickly took a step back. Butters froze and his eyebrows creased with worry. “Stan-?”
“No way, dude. I could barely stand holding your hand, we are not kissing.”
“Oh…” He averted his gaze from Stan as he felt his face become warm. “Sorry. It’s just, uh, Eric-”
“I don’t care what Cartman wants us to do.”
Butters nodded and looked down at his own hands that were now rubbing together out of habit. “Alrighty, then.” He moved to walk around Stan. “I’ll see you after school, Stan.”
Stan took a moment to himself to calm himself down. Butters was taking this too seriously.
There was a loud slam of someone closing their locker behind him. “Dude, that was fucked up.” He turned around to look at Kenny just in time to be pushed against the lockers and be face to face with him. “What if someone had said that to you?”
“Dude, back up.”
“What if I was Wendy?”
This made Stan’s eyebrows furrow. “Stop bringing her into this.”
“‘You make me sick. Just looking at you makes me need to vomit.’” He laughed, but it was bitter. “Knowing you, you’d probably just keep that in the back of your mind as you masturbate.”
“I’m not dealing with this right now.” Stan tried to move around Kenny, but he blocked him with his arms.
“No wonder why she broke up with you,” he spoke to him in a low voice. “I wouldn’t want a depressed alcoholic either. You’re becoming worse than your dad.”
Stan gritted his teeth and gripped the front of Kenny’s parka, pulling him even closer to his face. “Listen here, you fucking asshole-”
“Whoa, whoa!” Kenny was suddenly pulled away from him and now they both had Red in between them. “What’s going on?”
“Stan is being a fucking dick to Butters.”
Stan narrowed his eyes at him. “Fuck off, Kenny. You don’t know how hard I’m taking this.”
“You?” Kenny moved to take a step forward, but Red pressed both her hands against his chest to stop him.
“Okay, how about we both calm down. Yeah?” She looked at Stan. “Yeah?”
Stan glared at Kenny, only to receive an identical look. “Fine.” Stan adjusted the straps on his shoulders before leaving towards his first class of the day.
Stan threw himself down in his seat where he usually sat in his group. He placed his bag on his desk and sat back with his arms crossed and his leg beginning to bounce.
The girl in his group looked up from her phone for a moment, flashing a small smile at him. “Hey.”
“Hey.”
“Yo, Stan” Besides the girl sat down Clyde, who was also assigned to his group, with a large smile. Stan nodded at him and after a moment, Clyde gave him a quizzical look. “What’s wrong, dude.”
His leg began to bounce harder and he shook his head. He began to bite at the nail of his thumb and looked away from the door of the classroom. “Don’t wanna talk about it,” he mumbled. As much as he was wanting to avoid Kenny for the rest of the day, he knew it was inevitable considering how they shared the same class at the moment. He heard the familiar creak of someone sitting down beside him and Stan began to shake his head, refusing to look at him.
“Okay, class,” Their teacher drawled, “today you’re going to be given a worksheet to fill out about your assigned book. This worksheet is meant to help you complete the essay you will be focusing on in our next class. The sheet is here on my desk and feel free to ask me any questions. I don’t mind talking amongst each other, just please get your work done.”
“I’ll get them, ” the girl sitting across from Stan stood up and walked over to the front.
As soon as she was far from earshot, Clyde began looking between the two of them. “Okay, what’s wrong?”
“Do you want to know what Stan told Butters earlier?”
“Oh, shut the fuck up, Kenny,” Stan snapped at him.
“Butters was just trying to just get the dare over with and Stan basically called him revolting.”
“He wanted to hold hands and kiss me,” he hissed at him.
“So you let him.”
“Let him?”
The girl came back and both of their mouths snapped shut. She handed each of them a sheet of paper before sitting herself down.
Stan thanked her and began to dig through his bag for the book he was given to read for the class. He figured the conversation between him and Kenny would be over, but he was wrong.
“You know what, Stan, you’re being a little bitch,” Kenny suddenly said.
The girl looked up for a second, eyes wide with shock when she heard this.
“How am I being a ‘little bitch?’” Stan felt his head begin to pound with the sudden anger he felt.
“What is… what’s happening?” She asked.
“Relationship issues,” Clyde answered. Stan glared at him for the response. “Stan is upset and he’s taking it out on his boyfriend.”
“Oh…” The girl then perked up. “Oh! Stan, you have a boyfriend? That’s so cute!”
Stan groaned and covered his face. “Yes, I do.”
“Did I say something wrong?”
“No,” Clyde answered.
“I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”
“Fine, we won’t.” Kenny leaned close to him to whisper, “But just like you’re stuck with Butters, he’s stuck with an asshole like you. Do you ever think of anybody else besides yourself?”
Stan opened his mouth to say something but decided against it when he noticed that Clyde and the girl were intensely staring at them.
"Yeah, didn't think so."
Stan kicked his leg from underneath the desks which earned a glare from Kenny, but he stayed silent. The two ignored each other for the rest of their class.
-----
His other two classes of the day, AP Music Theory and Athletics, went by smoothly with no problems. At least from Butters and Kenny. Stan was starting to get the hits of the new ‘rumor’ about him dating Butters from some of his classmates, but he couldn’t entirely deny it because of whatever Cartman had up his sleeve.
After his coach had dismissed him and he had taken a shower in the locker room, Stan headed towards the cafeteria for lunch. He went straight for the line instead of dropping his things off at his table since his shower took a little longer than usual.
Not really caring about what he ate for the day, he grabbed randomly at whatever came into view first and paid for his lunch. He grabbed his tray and headed towards his table with his usual gang. He caught the view of the familiar orange parka leaving the table and going to a different one entirely. A wave of relief washed over him, but he immediately turned tense when he saw Kyle leaving the table to follow Kenny, only leaving Cartman. Stan watched with narrowed eyes as Kenny and Kyle were now seated with Tweek and Craig. He didn’t want to be left with Cartman, but all the other tables were either filled up or had someone he’d rather not interact with.
Cartman wore a large smile as Stan sat himself down across from him. “So, Stan-”
“Don’t.”
“I heard you and Butters were holding hands!”
Stan groaned and began to stab at the school lunch. “I fucking hate you.”
“Are you and your boyfriend getting comfortable?”
Stan glared at him but chose not to respond.
“Stan~” He shook his head and ignored him. “Stan, talk to me!” He began to stab at the salad on his plate. “Fine, be that way, asshole.” He looked around from his spot. He perked up and cupped his hands around his mouth before shouting, “Butters! Come here, your boyfriend wants to talk to you!”
Stan’s eyes widened and he kicked at his legs. “Dude, no!” He hissed out.
He saw the blonde pop up from his seat and walk over to them. Stan groaned and began to lean onto his hand with his forehead. “Heya, Eric! Hi, Stan!” He sat next to him and Stan immediately felt tense.
“Well, hi there, Butters. I had a feeling that Stannie here was missing you.” Stan glared at him. Neither of them moved even though Cartman was looking at them expectedly. “Well, what are you two? Pussies? Greet each other like two boyfriends would.” Cartman was staring at the two with a large smirk.
Stan was glaring hard at his food. He wanted to kill Cartman. He felt his leg begin to anxiously bounce as he turned slightly to see Butters looking at him.
His lips were pressed into a thin line. He looked at Cartman, now frowning. “Eric, Stan doesn't look-”
“Butters, are you going against the king’s words?”
Butters stood up, both hands placed on the table. “Eric, Stan and I aren't going to kiss for your sick fantasy,” he said loudly, earning the attention of the nearby students once again. “If you want to see two guys kiss so badly, why don’t you look at the gay porn you always watch?” This earned a few snickers from some of the students. Cartman’s face began to glow bright red as he began to sputter. Butters signature smile returned and he leaned towards Stan, placing his hand on his back.
In the moment of having so much nervous energy, Stan shrugged Butters’ hand away from him. “Don’t touch me,” he hissed at him.
Butters’ face dropped. “Gee, I’m sorry, Stan.”
“Just don’t touch me.”
He forced out a laugh. “Okay… okay, I’ll just leave you alone, then.” Butters turned and walked back to the table he was sitting at earlier.
He felt a harsh pain on his shin. “Hey, asshole, you have to convince everybody that you two are fucking.”
“We aren’t!” He was seething now.
“Stan, I swear to christ. Right now, you two look like you have so much sexual tension that nobody would care if you slammed him down and-”
“Cartman!” Stan felt his face flush as he saw everyone staring at the two, now whispering amongst themselves. “God, I fucking hate you so much,” Stan told him as he gripped his tray tightly, moving to leave Cartman alone before he popped a blood vessel.
He walked past the table where Craig’s group usually sat and slammed his tray down in front of Kenny before making a beeline for the doors. He left the school building, quickly heading towards his parked car. He needed to leave.
He jumped into his car and immediately turned it on, throwing his belongings towards the backseat. He turned off the screaming of the song that immediately began to play and slammed his forehead against the steering wheel. He knew he needed to calm down before driving. The last thing he wanted to do is ram into something just because he was having the worst day of his life. He closed his eyes and tried to focus on his breathing.
His thoughts slowly began to drift to the points of his day. How he was practically the center of attention every time he walked through the halls. How everyone was staring at him, whispering and judging him over a matter of seconds. How angry Kenny had gotten; what he had said. And how hurt Butters looked. He didn’t know why he was so angry at him, he was one of his friends so he should be happy he wasn’t paired with Craig like Kyle was. It wasn’t even his fault that he had to be paired with Stan. Shit, if he was in Butters’ position, he would’ve snapped already. He wouldn’t want to be with someone so pessimistic, so depressing, who’s a growing alcoholic, someone so angry all the time.
Nobody would.
He jumped at the sudden knock at his window. He looked up and groaned at the last person he wanted to see at the moment. He rolled down the window, glaring at him. “What?”
Butters’ eyebrows were screwed together in worry. “Are you okay, Stan?”
“Do I fucking look okay?”
Hurt flashed across his face. “S-sorry, I just wanted to check on you.”
Stan sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He took in a deep breath before releasing it. He let go of his nose and looked back at the blonde. “Do you have a class right now?”
He shook his head. “No, AP Psychology was my last class.”
Stan hesitated before motioning towards the passenger seat. “Get in.”
Butters' expression brightened as he took no second thought on accepting the offer. He quickly settled himself in the passenger seat and Stan began to drive out of the parking lot to head back to their houses.
Stan was focused on the road. He was trying not to look at the blonde in his passenger seat in an attempt to keep his negative thoughts away; about himself and about the blonde. They were both silent as Stan drove. Stan didn’t exactly want to make small conversation and he was sure Butters didn’t either.
Though the ride felt agonizingly long, he soon slowed down in front of a brown house; 1020. He parked the car and waited. He didn’t dare look at Butters even then. His thoughts were swarming, screaming at him to say something to him, anything.
Butters, on the other hand, took a peek at the ravenette. There was no emotion on his face, but he could tell that he was upset about something by the way his hands were clutching the steering wheel tightly. He leaned forward and grabbed his bag. “Thank you, Stan.”
“Yeah.”
Butters frowned at him. He opened the passenger door but froze when Stan spoke again.
“I’m sorry.”
He slowly pulled the door back so it wouldn’t be letting as much cold air inside the car. “Huh?”
“I’ve been angry at this whole situation and I’ve been taking it out on you.” Stan turned to Butters and for the first time all day, he truly looked at him. “I’m sorry.”
Butters smiled. “Well, it’s alright, Stan. I know this is all different for you and you aren’t exactly happy bein’ paired with me and all. I understand.” He moved to hop out of the car. He leaned down to look at Stan through his side. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Stan still wore a frown. “Yeah, see you tomorrow.”
Butters closed the passenger door. Stan watched him walk up to his front door. He had fumbled with his keys for a moment before finally unlocking the door. He entered and moved to close the door, but not before flashing Stan another smile and waving at him.Once he saw the door close, he let his forehead hit the steering wheel once more. He felt like shit. He really was a selfish dick and he knew he needed to make it up to Butters.
I also have this story posted on Ao3, Fanfiction.net, Quotev, and Wattpad if you'd rather read it on any of those websites!
Summary: It was only meant to be a stupid game of dares, 'The King's Game.' But, of course, nothing could go Stan's way. Cartman thought it would be hilarious to get under everyone's skin with his stupid dare and he did. Now, Stan had no way of getting back with Wendy because he was stuck with this dare.
Butters didn't care too much about the dare in its entirety. Stan was a cool guy and maybe they could get closer. He didn't see anything wrong with this dare from Eric. But, oh boy, if his parents knew, he'd sure be grounded. After this dare ends, he and Stan could still be friends, right?
What was the dare?:
Stan and Butters were forced to date for two months.
~~~
The scene takes place at Tolkien’s new place.
It was a party that Stan was invited to. One being thrown by Clyde.
As much as he didn’t want to go, he figured it wouldn’t hurt to go for a few hours. Stan decided to go with Kyle, well, more like dragged him along so he could relax a bit. He’s been holed up in his room, overworking himself with his studies. He knew it would be far-fetched that Kyle would want to stay for the entire duration of the party, but he had to try.
By the time they reached the party, people were already piled inside while others lounged outdoors. As they both exited Stan’s Honda, Stan heard Kyle mutter complaints under his breath about being there. They both trudged their way to the large house and shimmied their way inside.
The music was loud, people were laughing and drinking, and drinking games were being played. Stan made sure to keep Kyle beside him, knowing that if he had a chance, he would dip out with someone else. He wrapped his arm around his shoulder and led him to the kitchen where he was sure the drinks were going to be. Stan motioned for Kyle to choose his drink as he began to dig through a nearby cooler.
Kyle got to work on his drink while Stan cracked open a can for himself. He looked around the small group of people in the kitchen. A group of four were trying to chug down as much alcohol as they could and a couple was making out in the corner. He looked back at Kyle who was now adding ice to his drink. “Do you think Wendy’s here?”
Kyle glanced over at him, one of his eyebrows raised in question as he took a sip of his concoction. “Why?”
Stan shrugged. “I just want to talk to her.”
“For?”
Stan huffed. “Why does it matter?”
Kyle rolled his eyes. “Dude, you need to get over it. She’s made it clear she doesn’t want to be with you anymore.” Kyle had his eyebrows knitted together as he stared down at the drink in his hand.
“Thanks for your support,” Stan’s sarcastic comment earned a glare from him.
“You know what, I’m leaving.” Kyle slammed his cup down on a nearby table. “I’m not going to stay here just to hear you bitch about Wendy.” He shouldered Stan out of his way. “I have to get back to my applications anyway.”
Stan felt his body run cold. He grabbed his best friend’s arm to stop him. “No, wait. I’m sorry, Kyle. Don’t leave. You’re stressing yourself out a lot more than you need to. Just relax a little.” Stan could see Kyle clenching his jaw. “If you still want to leave after an hour, we can.”
Kyle pulled his arm away. “Fine,” He turned back to face him, “but if you mention Wendy one more time…”
“Okay, okay.” Stan held his hand up to stop him. “I got it.”
Stan did as he promised and held his tongue about Wendy for the rest of their time there. And sure enough, as long as he did, Kyle loosened up more bit by bit. Though, that came to a quick end when they met up with Cartman, Kenny, and Butters. Knowing Cartman was there made Kyle visibly tense. Stan, not wanting him to leave, placed a hand on his shoulder, gently massaging it to show that there was no need to fight with him again.
Of course, Cartman had a sneering remark to say to Kyle, there was no way there wouldn’t.
Kenny brushed Cartman away from the two and placed a sloppy kiss on each of their cheeks with a, “Hey, dudes! You showed up!”
Butters gave the two a large smile and a small wave. “Heya, fellas!”
The group of five stayed together for the remainder of their time, though as many times as they tried, they couldn’t shake off Cartman. The longer they stayed, the more people they found to interact with - Red, Craig, Tweek, Annie, and so on. Stan kept on glancing around for a familiar ravenette but didn’t dare share that fact with his best friend. Instead, with every look without the girl in sight, Stan took another gulp of his beer.
Soon enough, Kyle began to complain to Stan about being there, and so, their time came to an end. Stan and Kyle began to say their ‘goodbye’s’ to their friends and began to find the two hosts of the party.
They made their way up the stairs where Clyde and Tolkien were. Leaning against the second-floor railing, looking over the party. Tolkien seemed to be getting more and more annoyed the closer Stan got.
Once they reached them, Stan spoke up. “Hey, dudes. We’re gonna head out now.”
“Head out?” Clyde’s eyebrows knitted together in worry. “No, no. Stay for a little longer.” He turned to Tolkien. “Please, Tolkien.”
He rolled his eyes. “If you really want to do that, we’re gonna have to end the party now.”
Clyde groaned and stomped his foot like an angry child. “Fine.” He pulled out his phone and began to quickly type away.
Tolkien turned to Stan. “Just wait a few minutes when everyone leaves. Clyde wants us to do something and he won’t stop crying about it.”
“I don’t do that!”
“Mmm-hm.” Tolkien turned back to look over the party. “Everybody! Listen up!” The party slowly dwindled to a silence. “This party is ending in ten minutes, I need you all to go! Take the rest of the booze if you want, I don’t care, just leave!”
The crowd didn’t take long to disperse either to different parts of the house or outside of it. Others came up to thank the two for the party, though, the more people did, the more annoyed Tolkien looked. To Stan, this meant this party was planned and done by the brunette without his permission.
Soon the house was empty, though now revealing a mess. Tolkien sighed. “Clyde, you better clean this up.”
“No probs!” He looked over the edge and Stan looked along with him to see some others popping back in and heading up the stairs where they were. Standing around them were the members of ‘The Boys’ and ‘Those Guys.’
“Okay, we stayed. What did you want, Clyde?” Kyle asked.
Clyde looked at him with a large smile. “I want us to hang out!”
“Hang out?” Stan looked behind him to see Bebe reach the top of the steps. He gulped and tried avoiding making any type of eye contact with the girl who followed behind her. “Is that all you wanted?”
“I have to go home though,” Wendy told them. “I need to finish my report.”
“Yeah, me too,” Kyle chimed in.
“Oh, come on, guys,” Clyde whined. “We haven’t hung out in forever. Let’s, like, actually hang out, not just sit next to each other during lunch. Let’s do something fun!”
“No way, dude,” Craig immediately shut down the idea.
Stan narrowed his eyes at him. “Like what, Clyde?”
Clyde looked at Stan as if he had just saved his life. “I was thinking ‘Truth or Dare!’”
“‘Truth or Dare?’” Kyle commented with a sneer. “We aren’t kids anymore, Clyde.”
“Yeah, Clyde,” Red commented, popping up from behind Craig. “We aren’t kids.”
Clyde looked like a kicked puppy. “Oh… Okay…”
She wrapped her arm around his shoulder and pulled him close. “Hey, don’t be sad. ‘Truth or Dare’ is for middle schoolers. We need a better game.”
Clyde immediately perked up. “Like what?”
She poked his nose. “You’ll see.” She turned to Tolkien. “Tolkien, you gotta room for this stuff?”
He shrugged. “We could go to the basement.”
She snapped her fingers and pointed at him with a finger gun. “Perfect. To the basement, we go.”
“I’m not staying,” Wendy spoke up, aggravation in her voice.
Red rolled her eyes. “Alright, fine. You can leave.” She elbowed Tweek’s side, making him yelp, and ‘whispered’ to him obnoxiously loud, clearly so Wendy could hear. “She was a stick in the mud, anyways. We don’t need her to have fun.”
Wendy’s face grew aflame. “No, I’m not!” She turned to the stairs and made her way down them, but instead of leaving out through the front door, she went through a different door under where they stood, presumably the basement.
Red laughed. “Works every time.” She began to push everyone towards the stairs. “Now, you all go wait in the basement. Nichole, you come with me.”
Nichole nodded and stayed by her side as Red made the rest of the group go down the stairs and towards the basement.
“What are we even gonna be doing?” Kenny asked.
“It doesn’t matter.” Red began to push Stan and Kenny, the last two, towards the basement stairs. “You all go downstairs and Nichole and I will meet you down there.”
Stan shook his head, now amused. He decided to play along to see what she had come up with. He made it to the bottom of the stairs and looked around the basement. It was clean, so Tolkien had probably crossed the area off from others when the party was going on. Stan and Kenny walked passed by Cartman, sitting on a recliner, and Wendy, sitting on the ground near the coffee table. They both made their way to sit on the couch where Kyle was. Stan sat himself besides Kyle while Kenny sat to his left.
Are you ready for this, bitches?” Red questioned as she suddenly appeared at the bottom of the stairs. She now wore a backpack that wasn’t with her before. Nichole popped up behind her with a small cooler in her hands.
Nichole began to pass around drinks from the cooler. Stan decided to settle on a bottle of another beer.
Red sat herself down at the coffee table and set the backpack down. She began to dig through it and pulled out a red solo cup and a handful of sticks. She placed the sticks inside of the cup and held it for everyone to see. “First and foremost, this is called ‘The King’s Game,’ and what the king says is absolute.” She poured the sticks out from the cup onto the table before looking around and pointed to everybody one at a time, including herself. “Okay, there are fourteen of us, so,” she began to number the sticks from one to thirteen, “there are thirteen sticks that are numbered, but one of them,” she held one up that had a drawing of a crown, “represents who is the king.” She placed the sticks back into the cup with the markings at the bottom. “All we have to do is to pick a stick without looking and that’s who you represent. Before we find out who the king is, we all have to say, ‘who is the king?’ You guys understand?”
The responses she got were more uncertain than anything.
She sighed and continued. “Say, the king is Kenny and his dare is someone to kiss somebody else. He can’t say anybody’s name specifically. He would have to say, ‘I dare three to kiss six,’ and the people who drew those numbers have to do what he says no matter what. You get it?”
“So, uh, it’s really just a game of dares, but you don’t know who is getting dared?” Butters asked.
“Exactly!” Red pulled a sheet of paper from her bag. “Okay, before we start, we need to set up some rules. How far are we going to go sexual-wise?”
“Not at all.”
“Wendy, that’s not an option.” She wrote down in bold letters: ‘RULES’. She began to write some things down. Probably some of the game’s natural rules. “So, kissing? Do we all agree on that?”
Stan thought kissing was fine. He didn’t see any problem with it, but as he looked around the room the number of guys made him a bit anxious. He didn’t want to kiss any of them, especially Cartman. The thought alone made him nauseous, and not in a good way.
“No,” Craig spoke up. “We don't agree.”
“Oh, come on, Craig. Don't be a big baby.”
“Nobody is kissing me or Tweek.”
Red groaned. “It's not like we're going to know who is who.”
“I don't care.”
“Ngh, I don't mind,” Tweek said, meekly. Everybody looked at him with surprise. He noticed this and tried not to look at anyone. “It won't mean anything to me because,” he looked towards Craig, “I only love you.”
The girls all ‘awwww’ed’ at the scene.
Craig closed his eyes for a moment before sighing. “Fine, only because Tweek is fine with it.”
Red gave a small pump of her arm in triumph. “Cool, now what about certain groping?” Everyone gave a different reaction. She sighed before saying, “Are we gonna see some dick and puss or not?”
“I'd honestly rather not anybody touch or see my dick,” Stan admitted.
“I wouldn't.”
“We know you wouldn't, Kenny.”
“How about just boobs?” Red was trying to compromise.
“Guys don't have boobs, Red,” Kyle said.
“Yes, they do. They're just usually flat-chested.”
Kenny snickered and elbowed Stan's side. “Unlike Mr. Double D over there.” He jerked his thumb towards Cartman, which made Stan and Kyle laugh.
“Hey! The fuck you say, Kinny?”
Kenny waved him off. “Nothing, fatass.”
“I don't mind,” Bebe spoke up. “What about you, Wends?”
She shrugged. “I'd rather not show them, though.”
This made Stan clench his jaw. He tried to swallow his jealousy with a sip of his beer. He wasn’t with her anymore. Why should he care that everybody else had the possibility of touching her?
“Okay, okay,” Red turned to Nichole. “What about you, Nichole?”
She looked at Tolkien. “If you're cool with it, I don't mind.”
Tolkien shrugged. “It's your body, babe.”
Nichole gave a half shrug. “Then I guess my breasts are on the line too.”
“Okay! Is there anything else anybody would be uncomfortable with?” Red asked. Everybody was silent. “Remember, the king’s orders are absolute.” Nobody answered. “Alright, let’s get it started!” She picked up the red solo cup and began to shake up the sticks before picking out a stick.
That was how the game began. Everything started out slow, each one slowing growing with each passing dare:
Wendy asked for four (Butters) to give her a well-thorough massage.
Craig told three (Clyde) to call City Wok and order a pizza on speaker.
Nichole told one (Bebe) and eleven (Kyle) to switch clothing for the rest of the night, save for underwear. This one made Stan laugh at his red-faced friend.
Butters made ten (Craig) eat a banana while dipping it in mayo.
When Bebe got a turn as the king, she insisted on turning it up a notch and dared eight (Tolkien) to give seven (Cartman) a lap dance.
Craig made seven (Stan) go around the room and smell everyone’s armpits. If Stan thought he hated Craig before, he absolutely despised him now. Red made three (Bebe) color in a tooth of hers black so it would look like she was missing it.
Then Cartman had gotten his first turn as the king:
“Who is the-”
“I want eight to fondle one’s boobs for two minutes.” Cartman didn’t let the rest of the group finish the sentence before spitting out an order.
“Gah! I have to what?” Everyone looked over at Tweek who had wide eyes.
“Did I stutter?”
Tweek glared at Cartman while he made a noise that sounded like a dying animal.
A sigh came from Wendy as she loudly placed down her stick. “Come here, Tweek, let’s just get this over with.”
Tweek slowly slid himself off his seat and made his way to sit beside Wendy. He held his hands up, preparing himself as Wendy unzipped her coat.
“Okay, ready?” Nichole asked with a timer ready in hand. The two nodded. “Alright, go.”
Tweek immediately cupped her breasts, now red in the face.
Stan felt his body become hot with jealousy. He tried to force himself to look away from the two, but he couldn’t.
“Oh, your boobs are nice, Wendy,” Tweek commented.
She smiled. “Thanks.”
“Careful, Tweek. They still might have some silicone in there,” Bebe joked, earning a smack in the arm from Wendy.
After an agonizingly long two minutes, their time was up. Stan knew that he would have nothing to worry about with Tweek, But he could help but glare at him as he made his way back to his seat besides Craig.
Everyone returned the sticks and continued the game.
Clyde kept on complaining about needing to use the bathroom, so Tolkien took the liberty as king to have twelve (Kenny) and four (Bebe) watch him.
Wendy told two (Cartman) to reveal his search history to everyone.
Nichole had seven (Craig) and thirteen (Kyle) make out for a minute.
Kenny told nine (Clyde) to drink a whole bottle of hot sauce and not drink anything for the rest of the night.
Then Tweek got a turn as the king:
“Gah! I’m the king? No way, man, this is too much pressure!” Tweek tried shoving the stick into Craig’s hand. “You do it, Craig.”
“Honey, that’s not how the game works.” He placed his hand on his thigh. “Just think of something stupid or make someone do something you want to do, like have them make a coffee for you,” Craig suggested to him.
Tweek was gnawing at his bottom lip. “Uh, well, three and five!”
“Yes? Three and five, what?”
“Ungh… three has to,” he began to tug at his hair and Craig moved to rub his back gently. “Three has to lick peanut butter off of five’s stomach.”
Kenny clasped his hands together and laughed. “Oh my God, Tweek.”
“W-what?” He screeched, his shaking now more obvious.
“Didn’t know you had it in you.”
“Ah, geez,” Butters stood up, “I know it’s the rules and I gotta do it.”
“Ah, Butters!” Red began taking everything off the coffee table to make space. She patted on the middle of the table. “Lay right here. We gotta get the perfect view.”
“Oh, hamburgers… Do I have to?” He asked as he began to rub his fists together.
“Would you rather stand while…” Bebe began to look around. “Hey, who is doing it?”
Stan stayed quiet. Maybe if he didn’t move or say anything, Kenny would offer to take the spot. Or maybe even Cartman. He always had a weird thing for Butters and Kyle.
“Stan, you can’t just pretend you don’t have the stick.” Of course, fucking Kyle couldn't leave him be.
Stan groaned before setting down his drink and standing up. “Fine, let’s just get this over with.”
Tolkien stood up along with him. “I'll go get some peanut butter.” He told the group as he disappeared up the stairs.
Bebe and Red were giggling loudly at Butters slowly lying himself on the table - his head towards Cartman and his legs towards Tweek and Craig
Stan moved to sit next to Red who was sitting by Butters right, but she stopped him. “No way, Stan. You gotta get him at a better angle.” Stan knew that Red was just trying to sexualize the dare. He just rolled his eyes and moved to be in front of Butters’ legs to satiate her.
Tolkien came back to the basement with the jar of peanut butter and a large spoon. “Here you go.” He held them out to Stan, but Kenny swooped in and grabbed them instead.
“Dude, come on.”
“No way, man. Knowing Stan, he'll probably just put a little bit to get it over with. We gotta make sure it's worth it.” Kenny began to unscrew the cap and dipped the spoon in to get some of its contents on the back of the spoon. He kneeled beside Red and held the spoon over Butters’ stomach. “You ready, Butters?”
He shrugged. “Ready as I'll ever be, I guess.”
Kenny lowered the spoon and began to coat Butters’ stomach with peanut butter. It was a lot more than Stan would've liked, but that was the point. Kenny stopped and Stan watched with narrowed eyes as he dunked the spoon back in to cover his stomach even more.
Kenny was way too giddy for Stan’s taste about this entire situation. He could tell by his eyes that he was smiling big underneath his parka. “Kenny, you’re acting like you’re the one doing this,” Stan told him.
His eyes flickered up to meet Stan’s. “I wish.” Stan didn’t know whether he wished to be Butters or him, but he didn’t want to know. He started to smear even more on Butters’ stomach and Stan was sure he was doing this to get under his skin. “But since you’re the one doing it,” He finished up, sticking the spoon in his mouth as he closed the jar. He clapped his shoulder as he stood up. “Why don’t you show us your skills?”
“Of licking peanut butter? Right.”
“Well, don’t just lick it up,” Craig said in his usual monotone tone. Stan didn’t need to turn around to see the stupid smirk on his face.
“Good thing you aren’t the king then.”
“Ah, well, don’t just lick it up, Stan.” Stan really wanted to murder Craig for putting the idea into his boyfriend’s head. “A-and you have to clean it all. Nothing left behind.” Oh, how Stan hated them both.
He clenched his jaw as he grabbed Butters from behind his knees to pull him closer to the edge so he wouldn't have to hover over him too much. He grimaced, seeing how he was in between the blonde’s legs now.
A chorus of wolf whistles filled the room after he did this.
He sighed before leaning down over the blonde and licking at his stomach, trying to lick as much peanut butter off as he could to end this as quickly as he could.
“Oh,” Butters giggled. “That tickles!” He began to squirm as he continued to laugh.
Stan rolled his eyes. He placed his hands on his hips, holding him firmly down so he could stop moving. This made the laughing and movement stop. He tried not to think too much about what he was doing - on who he was doing it to.
He hated everything about this. He hated everyone cheering him on. He hated looking up for a moment and seeing Butters face, how red he was. He hated seeing Wendy giggle with Bebe as he continued with his work.
“Oh~! Stan,” Red nudged him when he finished, “you’re still single, right?”
Bebe laughed at this. “Oh my God, Red.”
Stan just ignored her and rolled his eyes. “In Tolkien’s words: ‘I swear to God, if any of you let anybody know out of this room, I will kill you,’” He told the group as he stood up. He picked up his beer and threw himself back onto the couch.
And the game continued once again.
Jimmy told twelve (Red) to call a random number and sing "Happy Birthday" to the first person to pick up.
Stan even had nine (Tweek) strip down to their underwear and sit in four’s (Kenny) lap until whoever had twelve (Nichole) was king. Stan felt proud of himself for that one. He considered it as revenge for earlier.
The game kept on going and going until the teens finally got tired of it.
“Can we just go home now?” Kyle motioned to himself. “I’m tired of wearing these clothes.”
“Aw~, but you look so cute in them, Kyle,” Bebe teased.
“Oh, come on!” Clyde moaned. “Just one more round. I haven’t even been the king yet.” His face was still glowing red from the hot sauce.
“Fine, fine,” Bebe spoke up. “Let’s all do one more round, then we can go.”
“Yeah, whoever’s king better give us something really juicy,” Red agreed as she grabbed the cup from the table. She shook the cup around to mix up the sticks before picking one for herself again. She then passed the cup to Nichole and so on.
Stan watched the cup get passed around the group before it finally reached him. He stared down at the cup in Kenny’s hand. Chugged down the rest of his beer, he blindly grabbed a stick for himself. He stared it down as if the stick itself had wronged him. The number ‘4’ stared back at him. He glanced over at Kyle, but he only hid the stick.
“Okay,” Red started. “Three, two, one…”
Everybody in unison, “Who is the-”
“Me, me! I am!” Cartman shouted. “I’m the king! I’m the final king, ha ha ha ha haa ha!” He let out a loud laugh that immediately irked Stan. He knew this was a bad idea. Cartman reached over and grabbed his bag from behind Butters, hitting him in the back of the head in the process. He began to rummage through the bag, mumbling to himself.
“Fuck,” Kyle muttered. “Let’s just get this over with, fatass.”
Stan let his eyes wander back to Wendy as the two began their usual bicker. She met his gaze for a moment and Stan smiled, but it quickly faltered when she looked away from him. His throat felt dry. He lifted up his bottle for another sip and felt stupid when he realized it was empty. He looked back at Cartman to see him slam down a notebook.
“I have been planning for this day. To have the authorit-ah to have you guys do what I want with you guys. And none of you can reverse it.” Cartman was watching everybody carefully. “There will be six of you. I am going to pair you up and each pair must,” he glanced at Kyle. “must date the person for a month.”
Kyle scoffed and Stan made it necessary to elbow him in the side to prevent him from making it worse. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea after all. He tried not to look at Wendy. He couldn’t look too hopeful.
“And I mean date,” Cartman continued. “Holding hands, kissing,” He leaned forward wiggling his eyebrows. “Sex!”
“I-if I didn’t know better, I w-would- I would have th-thought you turned into K-K-Kenny,” Jimmy jokes. Kenny was the only one who laughed. “Wow, what a great audience.”
Everyone was tense. Of course, Eric Cartman would try to do anything to get under their skins. Especially Kyle’s. He hadn’t even said any numbers yet and Stan could practically feel him fuming from his right.
“So!” He clasped his hands. “Who should it be? Hmm, yes, I see…” He looked at them all again. “I want four and seven, six and,” he made a face. “Thirteen, and for the sake of luck for our two love birds,” He gave a pointed look towards Craig and Tweek. “Eleven and twelve.”
The room was silent aside from Tweek’s sudden yelp, making it obvious that his number was picked. Stan stared back down at his number. ‘4’ He was chosen by Cartman. He hoped that the universe was somehow on his side and made Wendy as ‘7.’ That way, she could see how they should actually get back together. It could be his chance.
“This is fucking ridiculous!” Kyle spoke up and Stan knew things were going to go downhill. “I am not doing that! I have way better things to do than this stupid dare,” he exclaimed.
“Oh, but he’s the king,” Butters spoke up. “And whatever the king says is a-absolute.”
“Thank you, Butters.”
“Oh, fuck that! I don’t give a shit if he’s the king!” Kyle’s face was now aflame with anger. He really didn’t want to do this. Stan didn’t understand why. It was just a month. All he had to do was shut his mouth and entertain Cartman, but then again, nothing was easy with Kyle.
“Well, since Kyle clearly has a problem with it,” He reached forward to grab the notebook he had pulled out as he continued. “Make it two months.”
“This is stupid-”
“And as Butters said, I am the king, therefore, anything I say goes.” He began to flip through the notebook. “Ah, yes, here we are.” He flipped the notebook over to show the group its contents. A picture of Kyle was evident on one side of the page and writing was on the other side.
“W-what is it?” Tweek asked.
“Don’t egg him on, babe.”
“Thank you for asking, Tweek!” Cartman cleared his throat and began to read:
In any instance of a game of dares, if Kyle “Stupid Jew” Broflovski chooses to refuse the dare the following will be punishment for him:
Revealing a secret
Send his brother back to Canada
Ruin any chances he has of getting a girlfriend or getting into whatever college he wants to go to for 4 months
And-
“I really don’t give a shit, Cartman. It’s not like you’re going to do all that anyway. You’re bluffing.”
“I’d rather not do this either,” Craig spoke up. “And your ‘luck’ didn’t even pair me with Tweek. I’m not going to date anybody else.”
Cartman rolled his eyes. “Of course, you two are against it. Only thinking of yourselves.” The two boys began to protest, but he only ignored them. “If Kahl let me finish, you would all know that both people will be receiving punishment. It doesn’t matter if one of them still wants to go with the dare. Both must work together.” He intertwined his fingers, making Stan roll his eyes.
Stan heard Nichole suck air through her teeth. “Yikes.”
“So,” Cartman wore a wicked smirk on his face. “Who is going to do my bidding?”
Stan sighed. Might as well get it over with and know who he was going to ‘date’ for two months. “I got four.”
Everybody was silent. They all looked at one another, expecting someone to speak up to partner up with him. It took another beat of silence before someone finally did.
“Ah, geez. I got seven.” Stan felt his body run cold with dread and he wished he had never come at all. It wasn’t Wendy who spoke up. “I guess we’ll be stuck together for a while. Huh, Stan?”