Author's Note: This story is getting a little crazy, so I hope everyone's keeping all the intertwining storylines/characters straight. Thanks for all the comments and reviews; I hope you all enjoy this dialogue-packed chapter just as much! All previous disclaimers still apply.

Bad Boys

Chapter Four

by MT Yami

Kenny hung over the side of Stan's bed, smoking a cigarette. He stretched luxuriously, looking over at the dark-haired boy, who was busy picking their clothes up off of the floor and folding them.

"Hey Stan?"

Stan made some kind of acknowledging noise but didn't pause in stacking the clothing on top of his swivel chair.

"What do you do if you think you might actually like someone, but they're not exactly the commitment type?"

That did the trick. Stan whipped around, looking slightly aghast.

"What the hell, Kenny? You're the king of the non-commitment types. Why would you even be worrying about it?"

The blond shrugged and rolled over onto his back. "It was totally hypothetical."

"No, no, I don't think it was. Finally fallen for a client, huh? Who is it, Tweek?"

Kenny looked slightly uncomfortable. "I don't think I should say. He's not exactly a client. And I don't know if I've 'fallen for him,' per se. I just like doing nice things for him, which is…"

"Weird, yeah. Gotcha." Stan scratched the small of his back and shrugged. "Does this mean I can't pay you for sex anymore?"

"Haha, nice try." Kenny chuckled. "He's not going to stop sleeping around, so why should I?"

The dark-haired boy shook his head. "Oh, so he's a whore too?"

"Aw, come on man, you know I prefer 'sex worker.'" Kenny mock-pouted. "But yeah. I guess he's a regular little coin slot. But for some reason…he won't charge me. Does that mean anything?"

"Oh, the wooing methods of the prostitute." Rolling his eyes, Stan sat down on the bed next to Kenny. His added weight on the bed caused the blond to undulate up and down briefly. "So you think this kid's got it bad for you then, since he won't charge you?"

When the skinny blond nodded, Stan burst out laughing. "Kenny, that's priceless."

"What? Come on, Stan, I'm being totally serious."

Stan shrugged. "Who the hell knows, man. Who is it? Tell me, for real."

"Dude, I can't." He dropped his voice down to a whisper. "I could get, um, arrested."

"Holy shit, dude!"

"Yeah."

"Aw, weak, man, is it Ike?"

Kenny wrinkled his noise. "Fuck no, dude."

The dark-haired boy's eyes suddenly widened, and he smacked Kenny upside the head. "Sick, man! You're screwing Morgan Ryan? Dude, I know that kid! I coached his peewee hockey team!"

"Well, apparently, I'm not the only one," Kenny offered.

"I didn't know he was a whore now!"

"Sex worker, Stan!"

"Yeah, whatever, still!"

The blond lit up another cigarette and shrugged. "He's probably the best-looking guy I've seen in South Park in a long while."

"You mean like, since Cartman left? Is Morgan fat now?" Stan watched Kenny's face fall. "Sorry man, that was low."

Kenny nodded. "Yeah, it was. You know better than that, Stan."

They sat in silence for a moment, until Stan put a steadying hand on the blond's shoulder. "Well, how long have you guys been…you know, screwing?"

"Two days ago? Yeah."

The dark-haired boy's eyes bugged out of his head. "What the hell, man? And you're in love already?"

Kenny frowned. "Stop calling it love. I've only loved one person in my life, and that's totally different than this. I dunno. He called me out on the street next to the South Park Recreation Center the other day. I couldn't say no for some weird reason…like I know he's just a kid, but there was something about him that I liked. He took me inside and I fucked him against the lockers." He chuckled humorlessly. "It reminded me a little of fucking Butters, but like, a sexier, more experienced Butters, and I wasn't doing it out of spite this time either. Anyway, I found out that he has hockey practice there every day so I offered to pick him up from practice yesterday to screw at my house. The weird part is that both times, there was no money involved. I'm not used to that anymore."

"Dude, you are so fucked up. I don't know what you can do, really. And before I forget, here's your fifty bucks."

The blond looked at the crisp bill, an odd smile on his face. "Heh, if you'd have given me better advice, I would have given that right back to you as a therapist fee."

Stan laughed. "Sorry man, but screwing underage boys is a little out of my expertise range. Why can't you find yourself a nice girl for once, settle down?"

"Because nice girls poke holes in condoms and refuse to get abortions, that's why." Kenny tucked the bill in the pair of jeans Stan was holding, which was, incidentally, his. "Like, how can I tell Morgan I'm the father of a little bastard? I still don't know what I'm going to do about that, but I guess for right now it's more Bebe's problem than mine. I don't have to worry about stretch marks and shit like that."

"Well, I'm sure he'll understand, or maybe not, considering he can't get pregnant nor does it seem like he's going to be impregnating anyone anytime soon."

"Weirder still, we've never kissed or nothin' like that."

"What? Kenny, this is just getting more fucked up by the minute. How can you even tell you like him then?"

Kenny held up a hand. "In our defense, it's not part of our job description. Kissing is like, for dating only—I have some semblance of dignity left, you know. And it's as I said. I don't know. It's just some weird feeling I've got about him."

"Dude, let's go to Raisins or something. I'm starving, so my treat."

The blond sighed and pulled his jeans on. "Stan, I think my life is a mess."

"That would be a morbid understatement, Kenny."

--

Butters ripped the ballet shoes off of his aching feet, looking over to grin at Pip. Both boys were sprawled out on the floor of the little dance studio, exhausted from a night of practicing for auditions.

The next day would be the determination of who would be on what dance team, and Butters was gunning to be in the top company. His future beyond college depended on it, and unlike Pip, ballet was not his forte for sure.

"That was crazy. I'ahm so nervous for tomorrow." Butters unscrewed the top of his Nalgene bottle and took a deep drink.

Pip wiped his face with his towel and laughed. "You're going to be just fine, Butters. Golly, you might even give me a run for my money, eh?"

"Hey Pip?"

"Yes?"

Butters stretched his legs out thoughtfully. "Do you ever worry about Damien cheating on you?"

The other blond shrugged, releasing his long locks from the low ponytail he wore. "I don't like to think about it, but there's a possibility. I mean…we don't really see much of each other nowadays. He's in Hell all the time."

"Do you think Eric would cheat?"

Pip reached for his water bottle as well. "You think he is, or something?"

"I'ah dunno. Maybe not."

"I don't think you should accuse him of it unless you've got some pretty solid proof."

The taller blond stood, still looking a little doubtful. "Yeah, well there hasn't been any particular instances or anything, but then again, I don't know what he does when he's in Pasadena."

"Who is he going to cheat on you with at Caltech? Some Bill Gates look-alike?" Pip scoffed. He pulled on a pair of sweatpants and cracked his neck.

Butters thought then of Romper, and frowned. He was, decidedly, not unattractive, and that fact was worrisome.

"What if there was someone? Like an old friend. Eric has an old friend going to school in Pasadena."

Pip shrugged. "I think you should give Cartman more credit than you do. Come on, then. I'm tired, and we have to be up early tomorrow as well."

Gathering his belongings and following Pip out the door, Butters was still unsure. Between dance auditions and worrying about Cartman, he had no idea when he would find time to even sleep.

--

"Hi! Welcome to Raisins, my name is Lexus!"

The perky brunette waved happily as Stan and Kenny entered the bustling restaurant, holding up two menus.

"Just the two of you cuties today?"

Kenny nodded, stifling a yawn. He hated Raisins, simply because he could never get any business out of the Raisins girls, on top of the fact that Bebe worked there. Stan, though, seemed to have a fond attachment to the place, especially after he and Wendy had gone their separate ways. Lexus led them to a table and Kenny plopped himself down quite unceremoniously.

"Your server will be Bentley, she'll be over here shortly!"

Stan leaned over the table and grinned at Kenny. "They have a new waitress! I'm totally excited."

The blond rolled his eyes. "Probably will be as unwilling to get in the sack as all these other hos. Let's just be grateful that our waitress isn't Bebe."

"Hi, I'm Bentley and I'll be your server this afternoon."

Kenny's head jerked up at the familiar voice, and was stunned to see a mostly-familiar face to match.

"Morgan? You work here?"

The heavily made-up brunet rolled his eyes. "Can I start you off with some onion rings or fries while you browse the menu?"

"Stan, it's Morgan! Dude, why do you work here? I thought you had a good thing going, you know, on the streets."

Morgan leaned over and hissed into Kenny's ear, "When I'm working, you gotta call me Bentley. And I'm a girl." He pointed to his chest, which was appropriately chicken-cutlet supplemented. "And I don't work the streets. Got it? Jesus Christ, Kenny, you wanna get me fired?"

Just then, Porsche walked by and Morgan instantly swapped his chiding frown for a sugary, flirty grin and leaned down on his elbows, pressing his 'cleavage' into Kenny's face.

"Oh yeah, it was totally boring before you hotties came in, everyone here is so lame…"

Kenny held back a chuckle as he watched Morgan eye Porsche, who smiled and waved at him before turning to a customer. As soon as he was sure that she was engrossed with something else, the brunet straightened and sighed.

"I hate this fuckin' job," he murmured under his breath. "Anyway. What would you guys like to order?"

"I'd like a burger with grilled mushrooms, curly fries, and a Coke," Stan said, not looking up from the menu. "Kenny?"

The blond sighed. "Let's see…you're paying? I'll get the buffalo platter and a Coke."

Morgan had a wry smile on his face as he jotted the orders down on his receipt pad. "Ah, I see, out with your boyfriend, huh?"

"No, no, it's not like that! Stan's my childhood friend, we've been buddies since kindergarten." Kenny held up his hands and shook his head vigorously. Stan laughed.

"Yeah. I just know how poor the little bastard is, so I figure he might want some free food every now and then."

The brunet nodded. "Uh huh. Okay, well, I'll get these orders in and have them out for you shortly."

When Morgan left, Kenny looked at Stan and frowned. "I don't think he believed that."

"Well, you do have a reputation for sleeping around. And it's not like we don't fuck every now and then."

"You pay me, asshole. That doesn't count."

After Morgan had brought out their food, Kenny couldn't help but see a tinge of resentment in the younger boy's eyes. Suddenly the big plate of chicken seemed that much less appetizing.

He and Stan ate in relative silence, occasionally asking each other to pass the ketchup, but no real conversation ensued. Kenny kept sneaking glances over at Morgan, who was chatting up what looked a lot like who they called 'Craig and those guys'. It was strange how even after Tweek and Craig broke up, they had remained close friends despite the obvious fact that Craig was now dating Clyde. Kenny envied their foursome's ability to stay friends, but he supposed that since all of them decided to go to Park County Community College, or in Token's case, was too set for life in inheritance to even bother going to college, they had it a little easier.

A buxom blonde girl joined Morgan at their table then, and Kenny's stomach plummeted.

"Hi, welcome to Raisins, I'll be your server, Acura!" Bebe smiled, touching Token Black's arm gently. The tall black boy looped an arm about her waist and pulled her close.

"Did you see that?" The blond's jaw gaped in surprise.

"See what? Man, this burger rocks."

"Token! And Bebe! He's all over her, and she's not mad!"

"Dude, that's her job." Stan shoved another handful of ketchup-drenched curly fries into his mouth. "Why would she get mad?"

"The Raisins girls aren't supposed to be touched by the customers. It's like in Vegas, the touch-and-go rule. If they touch, they go. I mean…all the Raisins girls have to do is protest and Maury will come over and kick some serious creeper ass. I think Bebe and Token must be messing around. Stupid bitch, she's fucking pregnant!"

"Dude, you know way too much about the Raisins rules. Are you gonna finish those wings, or what?" The dark-haired boy reached over to pluck an uneaten wing off of Kenny's plate. "And since when did you care about Bebe's business?"

"That sounded horribly reminiscent of Cartman." Kenny swatted Stan's wandering hands off of his food. "I just don't think Bebe should be sleeping around while she's pregnant. I might not like it, but it's still my kid."

"You're probably just mad because Morgan hangs out with her and gets the dirt on you from her," Stan retorted. "Eat your wings, we're leaving."

"Wait, not yet. I want to talk to him."

"You can't go over there!"

"Watch me."

Kenny stood and briskly strode over to the other table, inciting glares from the guys sitting there.

"What're you doing here, Kenny?" Token asked sternly, not releasing his hold on Bebe.

"Not looking to screw you guys, that's for sure." Kenny shot a glance at Tweek. "Well, at least one of you appreciates my services. Craig and Clyde, you don't seem to need much help in that department anyway, I bet you guys fuck like bunnies."

Surprisingly, the person who replied first was Morgan, who sighed exasperatedly and placed one hand on a cocked hip. "Kenny, what do you need?"

"Can we talk?"

He heard a snort from Bebe and turned to her sharply, his dark eyes narrowed. "Shut up, ho. Did you tell your little friend how far along you are in your pregnancy? 'Cause maybe you can get him to pay your sorry ass for a blowjob so you can pay your hospital bills. Or maybe you're into poking the preggers, huh, Token? Just don't kill my baby with that black snake of yours."

"Kenny, that's unnecessary." Morgan put a stilling hand on Token's shoulder, because the taller boy had begun to rise from his chair angrily.

"I'm going to fucking kill you, Kenny. It's bad enough that you leave Bebe to deal with this on her own, and now you have to go around talking smack about her?" Token clenched a fist but didn't try to break from Morgan's grip.

"Clearly, you don't know who fucked who over on this one. You're lucky she's already pregnant so she won't be poking holes in your Magnums." Kenny chuckled mirthlessly. "Seriously though, Morgan, I mean, Bentley, can I get you to step outside with me, or something? We really need to talk."

"I get off at seven. You know Maury won't let you talk to me while I'm working." Morgan looked at Kenny from beneath thick lashes, and the blond felt a strange feeling stirring in his stomach. "I'll just go to your place later, ok? Leave my customers alone."

Kenny nodded slowly, tugging at a string pull on his parka. "You promise?"

"Since when did you care about a ho? Just get the fuck out of here, Kenny." Token took a deep breath, still clenching his fists. "If you don't get out, I will kill you."

"Jesus, calm down, Jesse Jackson." The blond held up his hands in mock-surrender and turned back towards Stan. "Everyone just needs to take a chill pill. Stan, we're out!"

"You didn't finish your wings, you asswipe! Hey, Porsche, can we get these boxed up?"

"Sure thing, sweetie! Thanks for eating at Raisins!"

Kenny shoved his hands into his pockets and morosely followed Stan out of the restaurant once their wings had been packaged up. "I think my problems just got a little worse, Stan."

"That would be a morbid understatement, Kenny."