SILVERWARE
by shannello

.

.

.

.

a/n: i wanted to write something happy. somehow i decided there needed to be naked boys, drugs, alcohol, lots o' sex, and everything else that's well wrong. i think this is the best i could do (for a prologue:D) so, enjoy! hopefully i'll get some readers who actually like me!

update (june 3o, 2oo9): i re-worked this entire chapter. this story is shit. sorry.

( d i s c l a i m e r ) nope.

.

.

.

.

It was hard for Kyle to believe he'd turned gay for his best friend. Homosexuality was like unfamiliar territory, unacceptable by most religions, exciting and addictive and the best thing that ever happened to him.

It was fucking grade ten, they were all just fucking kids, but none of them gave a shit. Everything was chaotic and messy and flirtatious, and therefore everything was fun—and that's all children want, really, right? Some times were sad and hard and exhausting—those were the times Kyle hated the most—but there were some times that were bright and fast and Kyle liked those times best.

Kenny, on the other hand, had been flirting with homosexuality for as long as he could remember. He hated the word 'bisexual', but used it anyways, for lack of a better one.

Kyle knew that Kenny was bi; actually, everyone knew Kenny was bi. It was pretty much yesterday's news. Old, but still a little shocking when he thought about it—like, holy fuck, I grew up with this kid, and all this time he was a fag?

Now, his thoughts were a little different—holy fuck, I'm a fag.

He could remember Kenny staying over his house on the weekends, nudging Stan with his bony elbow, squeaking, "what the fuck, share!" He'd pull down his hood, his hair all static and up around his face, stuck to his jaw. "I'm hungry too!"

Kyle didn't mind back then; well, Kyle didn't know back then.

Now, well, now Kyle really minded. He minded when he fell asleep at night groaning because he knew he'd wake up in a sticky, sick mess of discharge from the dream he was gonna have. He minded that when he walked in school he couldn't help but glue himself to Kenny's skinny hip. He fucking minded how Stan kept bugging him, "dude, when are you gonna get a girlfriend?"

When Kenny pulled him into the boys bathroom that day, taking off his sweater, shirt, jeans... sweating... telling him over and over how much he wanted him...

Kyle felt some sort of release that day.

A reassuring release that he, Kyle Broflovski, was gay.

.

.

.

.

"Welcome students, to grade ten!" babbled their principle, grinning brightly at the lot of bored, unresponsive teenagers. "This year's going to be tough, but I have complete faith in all of you." Her eyes fell on Kenny. "I know that each and every one of you won't give up, no matter how difficult school seems to become."

Pshh. Stan bumped him from beside. "You buying any of this bullshit?"

Kenny shrugged. "You fucking kidding? She's a bitch."

"Classes will be down this hall, here. Homeroom will have your locker combinations and numbers, so go! Have fun! And stay the responsible young adults I know you all are!" Her bouncy blonde hair covered her shoulders when she threw her arms up in excitement.

And the kids were off.

"Oh my god. That woman just gets fuller of shit each year," grumbled Stan, heaving a book bag over his shoulder.

Kenny grinned. "You mean, each day." He stuffed his hands deep inside his pockets. "I can't stand her."

His mind flashed back, remembering that day when she stopped by his house, investigating bad grades and too many absences to find his parents fighting in the doorway, his dad leaving and his parents' divorce only days away. He remembered her standing there, papers slipping out of her hands to the floor, watching. Him. Sob.

She'd ran away. She didn't slump down beside him, rub his back, tell him, 'It's going to be ok, Kenny. Everything will be absolutely ok'.

"Dude, you're zoning out."

Kenny jumped, returning to Earth. "Sorry."

Stan shrugged, walking into homeroom. Kenny followed behind. "Where's Kyle? It's not like him to be late, especially on orientation day."

Kenny looked up. Kyle. His eyes went out of focus.

It wasn't like Kyle to be late. It really wasn't like him. But—

Changing the subject. "Where the fuck is Cartman?"

"You're forgetting, it is like him to be late, especially on orientation day," said Stan, asking for his locker so he could stuff all of his shit in it and get it off his back. Kenny did the same, grinning.

Kenny picked lint from his pocket, feeling naked. "Stupid fatass. Wonder what the fuck he's doing—"

"Your mom. I was doing your mom, Kenny."

Stan blinked. Kenny blinked. The homeroom teacher blinked.

"You are here," Stan said, raising his hands up. "And I was thinking you'd actually skip today."

"Hey! Shut the fuck up about my mom!" said Kenny, eventually.

Cartman laughed. "Boys, boys. Don't congratulate me just yet, but I. Just. Pulled. Off. The. Greatest. Prank. Ever."

Stan raised an eyebrow. "Yeah?"

"Oh, yes."

"Well," Stan said, blinking at Kenny, obviously annoyed. "Let's go see what the fatass did."

Cartman grinned maniacally, singing a song as he lead them out the school doors incautiously, stopping at the bottom of the stairs to point at the bushes.

"CARTMAN! YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE!"

Kenny leaned over the edge of the stairs to glance down—

—and saw a flash of pale skin and bright-ass red hair.

Holy shit!

"Stan? STAN! Oh my god, dude! GIVE ME SOME CLOTHES!"

There was Kyle. Late.

In the bushes.

Naked.

"Wow," Kenny said, Cartman nodding his head enthusiastically in response.

Stan patted his shirt, looking down at Kyle sympathetically. "Dude. I only have one tee-shirt on..."

"Fuck YOU. GIVE ME ANYTHING."

Kenny blinked. "How did you fucking pull this off?"

Cartman smiled. "Oh, Kenny. The secret of my success is. Just. That. A secret." He used two pointed fingers to accentuate certain words.

"FUCK YOU!" Kyle screamed from inside the bushes.

Stan gulped and poked Kenny, telling him to check out the leaves. "Shit, man," Kenny said, leaning down, pressing his hands onto his thighs. His blue eyes zeroed in. "Is that poison ivy?"

"Oh my go—FUCK YOU, TOO!"

Cartman was laughing his fucking ass off for at least ten minutes before Kenny decided to take off his sweater.

"Here," he said, reaching down into the bush to hand it to Kyle. His voice was low and serious.

"Thnks," muttered Kyle, pulling the parka over his head, the sweater muffling his voice.

"Kennnneh, why would you ruin my prank?! It's the greatest EVER and now that you've giving the Jew clothes it's over. Over guys. It's OVER."

"Shut up, Cartman, it went on long enough," Stan said, waiting for Kyle to pull the sweater down as far as it could; it stopped around his mid-thigh.

He climbed out of the bushes, steaming. "That BASTARD knocked me out and stole my fucking clothes—oh my god, are my balls wet?!"

Kenny laughed, gaining a series of ignited glares from Kyle, an exhasted look from Stan, and a stunned and devasted glance from Cartman (who would be ganged up on momentarily).

"Seriously, Cartman. Where's his clothes?" Stan said and Cartman rolled his eyes. He clasped his hands together, nervous.

"Why would I tell you, STAN? So you can give the fag his clothes back while I watch my plan fall to pieces? I think not." Cartman shot Kyle an icy look, eyeing his bare calves and goosebumps.

Kenny laughed again, his shoulders rolling back. He walked over to Kyle, touching his elbow. "Hey, come on. I got my gym clothes in home room; I'll change into my shorts and give you my jeans."

Kyle's eyes glistened. What the fuck? Kenny thought.

"Thanks, man. I'll give them back right after I MURDER Cartman and get my clothes back." His hands balled up into little angry fists.

They left, hearing Cartman squeak and Stan demanding him to give Kyle's underwear back at least. They both knew the fucking fatass wouldn't do it.

"Jesus Christ. First day of tenth grade and I'm already naked."

"You're a little late," said Kenny, smiling. "I was naked by eighth."

Kyle smiled a little, the humor raising his spirits.

"Seriously though," Kenny added, pushing open home room and grabbing his clothes. He walked back out, seeing Kyle waiting, trying to hide. "How the fuck did Cartman knock you out? He's like, 500 pounds. How did you not see him?"

Kyle blushed. Hmm. "Shut up."

Kenny shrugged, then lead him to the bathrooms. "Well, here—" he slid off his jeans out in the middle of the bathroom, neither of them knowing this scene would be repeated months later. He felt naked, too, standing with Kyle in the bathroom, socks on, underwear showing slightly below his belly button, his knobby knees tingling.

Kyle stared at him.

"What?" Kenny barked.

Kyle blinked. Then shook his head. What the fuck...

"Just—thanks," he said finally, breathing out quickly, taking the jeans and pulling them up. He didn't have any underwear on, (Kenny would remember this later when he rewore those jeans alone in his room days later, remembering Kyle borrowed them.)

Kenny put on his shorts as the bell rang.

"Hey, what do you got?" Kyle asked, playing with the strings of the parka, shifting slightly.

"Um, English, I think. With Stan."

"Shit."

Kenny breathed out. "What?"

"I have chemistry."

"Shit's right—you got that with Cartman. Your best friend." He punched his arm playfully as they left the bathroom.

"I can already see the look on his face—Kyle, you fag! Wearing your boyfriend's clothes?" Kyle let his head hang down, defeated.

Kenny laughed; Kyle knew he was bi, but didn't hold back 'fag' when he mocked Cartman. Actually, Kenny noticed that... Kyle didn't make it clear that he really knew that Kenny was bi. Did he even know?

Kenny told him...

Kyle acted like Kenny never said anything, never got caught making out with a different boy each week in the same spot under the stairs, never started thinking that guys were hot and that penises were fucking cool.

Being half-gay wasn't something he thought about often, either, even though he was fucking Kenny McCormick, the school's imfamous bi hookup. He'd grab your boobs and your boyfriend at the same party. Nothing mattered more to him than a good kisser and a better lay. To him, he wasn't bi. He was just into guys and girls, into sex and boobs, into mouths and making out.

Maybe Kyle didn't want to acknowledge that kind of thing. In fact, maybe the only moderately sexual thing Kyle had ever seen was his parents pecking after dinner and Stan and Wendy's famous frenching. Maybe he was still in the works, and being exposed to such... profanities was just too much. Maybe he was just insecure.

Or, maybe he just didn't care. There were things between them that neither liked to talk about. There were certain things about them all, Kenny, Kyle, Stan, even Cartman, that none of them discussed or even thought about. Little things, big things, things that shouldn't matter but do.

Suddenly, Kyle was a bit more interesting than he'd ever been.

Kenny watched him. His eyes barely crossed his as they walked. Kyle stared down at his shoes, a delicate sort of smile on his lips.

Something made Kenny feel seriously weird. Something in the way Kyle didn't look straight into his eyes, didn't ask any questions about him "turning gay" or liking boys and girls. It was all so confusing—Kenny didn't know what to make of it. Kyle was a mystery.

A big, cute, complicated mystery.

Kenny shook his head/tried shaking all of his thoughts out and gave Kyle a glossy look. "I know telling you to just ignore him won't do anything, so, uhm, ride it out."

Kyle smiled, his cheeks pink. "Thanks."

.

.

.

.

.

a/n: so. well. sorry about this. :D it's gonna drive you CRAZY.