"...Dude, are you getting fat?" Craig asked you as the two of you walked home from school in the snow.

You scowled in response and gave a muffled, "No, fuck you!"

He shrugged, "It just kind of looks like you're getting, I don't know, man-boobs." He looked away from you.

You looked down at your own body. You knew that this would happen eventually, and you're glad you didn't have to deal with it until you were 15, rather than 10 like all of the girls you know, but you didn't think that anyone would notice. "I don't know what's happening, but I'm not getting fat," you lied through the scarf tied around your mouth.

Craig and you had grown to be best friends in the last few years. Kyle and Stan remained close, while Cartman, well, you don't really know, nor do you care. He's always been an asshole to you anyways, regardless of your former 'best friend' status. Craig was the only person you really made an effort to hang out with. Clyde and Token came along every once in awhile but they mostly did their own things with other people. Tweek tagged along frequently, but he worked far too often, so most of the time, it was just you and Craig.

"Alright then," he said, dropping the subject.

While you and Craig were best friends, he didn't know as much about you as he thought he did, and you were perfectly content with that. He'd treat you differently; everyone would treat you differently, and you didn't want that. You quite like being treated as you are.

Here's the problem: You're a girl.

Everyone thought you were a boy and called you a boy for such a long time, and you just never corrected them. You knew that if he - if anyone knew - they'd treat you like they do with all of the other girls, and expect you to wear skirts and treat you like you're delicate.

No.

You're not delicate, and you want to be treated like a boy. You've proven yourself as a boy, and for fucksake, you're going to be act like one.

You're 100% happy with your female status, but when you're around anyone else, that's it. You simply pretend to be the opposite sex for a little while. It's not lying though, you've assured yourself of that. No one has ever asked you "Hey Kenny, are you a boy?" If they asked, then you might tell them if you were close enough. If Craig asked, you think you'd tell him. Kyle got a bit suspicious when you were still friends, but he never figured anything out. He's a smart kid though. You knew he'd start thinking something was up. However, Stan and Cartman never had a clue. You think that Tweek figured it out when you were swimming with him once years ago, but he never brought it up. You're pretty certain that he's just keeping a secret for you. What a good kid.

Your name is Kenneth when you're around them, not Kendall, but they doesn't get to know that. That doesn't matter anyways, since either way, your name shortened is the same thing. All of your family members are aware of this, and while they don't really like it, they go along with it by called you a boy and son and not using your full name. They've even gone as far as to put your "real" name as Kenneth on your student records, attendance sheets, and all that stuff. You suppose they just love you enough to comply to your wishes.

You've always promised yourself that you'd tell Craig one day. Probably when you're older and when all of this puberty junk is out of the way, but you didn't really know. You'd have to invest in some way to hide these godforsaken breasts until then.

Part of you regrets lying for such a long time. The rest is glad for it. You know that you'd probably be miserable if you had to play with dolls and make-up as a kid. Nah, guns and cars and explosions and violence are much more fun.

"See you at seven," you said with a small wave as Craig turned into his driveway. "Bring some food too. You know we never have anything good to eat at my place."

Craig replied with a nod and entered his house, leaving you to walk alone.

You sighed and continued on your way home.

Upon entering your house, you ignored your drunk and passed out mother on the couch and made your way into your bedroom.

You had to have something that you could use as a binder until further notice. It didn't have to be really tight either, since you were wearing your jacket over top anyways. For once in your entire life, you were glad that your house didn't have very good heating.

You pulled an old, ripped shirt you haven't worn since god knows when off of the floor and placed it on your bed before rushing into the kitchen to grab a pair of scissors. You found them and re-entered your room, immediately beginning to cut the shirt up. You were positive that you still had the sewing kit you got from that home economics class in the third grade under your bed. Quickly pulling that out, you began giving the make-do binder a hem.

After that was finished, you pulled off your scarf, coat, gloves, and shirt, and measured the fabric around your chest. Thankfully, your guessing for size worked out perfectly, because the binder fit well. You reached for the unused bits of shirt and began making small ties for it, so you didn't have to cut it off and resew it every time you put it on, or try to squeeze it on.

You held up your new creation in front of you with a proud smile not long later, then proceeded to put it on. You pulled your shirt back on and made your way to the bathroom to see how you looked in the mirror. Excellent. It wasn't even noticeable that you were wearing it, unless you lifted your arm up. This would work until you saved up a bit of money to afford a real one from the internet.

Once your scarf and jacket were back on, you checked the time to see how long you had left until Craig would be arriving. It was just past six, so he should be here in about an hour. You figured it'd be a good idea to make yourself dinner beforehand. You pulled a frozen waffle from the freezer and put it into the toaster, then sat up on the counter to wait for it to heat up.

You heard a moan and grumble from the couch from your mom. With a sigh, you slipped off the counter and up to your mother. "Did you need something?" You asked. She slowly shook her head and turned away from you, falling back to sleep instantly. You shrugged and re-entered the kitchen just as your waffle popped up. You grabbed a piece of paper towel and wrapped it around the hot food, then began to eat.

For the next hour, you cleaned your room until the floor was cleared off and the underneath of your bed was completely empty. Craig would probably end up sleeping on your bed with you anyways, but you figured you might as well be considerate. You didn't stop until there was a knock on the door. You dropped the pile of clothes you were hanging up into your closet onto the closet floor and left the room to answer the door.

"Hey," You greeted Craig with a smile. You stepped back so he could come inside. He replied with a nod and stepped in.

He handed you a small container and stated blankly, "Leftovers from tonight. I figured you just had one waffle and left it at that." You looked down at the container, pulling it open half way. It was filled with spaghetti.

You gave him a smile of thanks, sealing it back up again. "Thanks. I did only have a waffle. There wasn't really much else anyways." You shut the door behind him and began making your way to the kitchen to grab a fork before heading into your bedroom with him following.

"So," you started, pulling down the scarf so you could talk more clearly, "Did you have any plans for tonight?"

Craig nodded, "Yeah, I brought some things." The two of you entered your room. He pulled his backpack off and set it on your bed, and began going through it. You could hear a few clinking noises and moved closer to see what it was.

Huh, booze.

You could deal with that.

His bag had a full bottle of vodka, half a bottle of whisky, and half a bottle of tequila.

With a small raise of your eyebrow, you politely asked, "Where the fuck did you get all this?"

He shrugged, "Doesn't really matter. Lets get drunk and not remember most of this tomorrow."

You chuckled and nodded, "Alright, alright, fine." You sat down on your bed next to the bag and finished off the spaghetti he had given you while you watched him unpack the rest of his backpack,

Once you finished your food, you set the container off to the side and paid attention to what Craig was occupying himself. He was sitting with his legs crossed on the floor pouring careful amounts of different things into the cups. You rolled onto your stomach and leaned your head over the bed to watch him.

Craig peered into the cup to the right before lifting it up to the light to inspect it carefully. Once he was satisfied, he passed it up to you. "Hopefully it won't kill you," he said with a shrug, "I looked up some things to make."

You took it from his hand and gave it a small sniff before taking a sip. It was sweet, with a tasty, fruity flavour to it. With a peek over the rim of the cup, you saw Craig studying your face for your reaction. "S'good," you told him. He gave a small smile in return and took a sip of his own drink.

He nodded, "And so it is. I'm a drink-making genius."

You raised an eyebrow, "If you were a genius, then wouldn't you have figured out that beer is cheaper and faster?"

"Yeah, I thought about it," Craig shrugged, "But then I remembered how shitty beer tastes."

"So fruity chick drinks it is?" You asked.

He nodded, "Yep."

The two of you sat in silence, drinking your fruit drinks, and occasionally filling up the cups. You didn't feel like you were quite drunk yet. Slight buzzed, maybe. You've been drunk before, multiple times in fact, so you could probably handle your alcohol a bit better than he could. Craig climbed up on your bed, leaving his drink on the floor.

"This is taking too long," he said with his face half squashed into your blankets. He stuck out his tongue and made a pouting face. "I just sort of feel dizzy and a little bit tired, but not actually drunk." He frowned, "But I don't know what being drunk feels like, so maybe I am drunk and just don't know it." Craig looked up at you with his one uncovered eye, "You know what its like, right?" You nodded in response. "Am I drunk?"

"I don't think so," You shrugged, rubbing at your side where the make-do binder was tied up. The damn thing was getting itchy, and a little bit loose

He sighed deeply, "Lame."

You chuckled, "Yeah, kind of. Don't worry," you papped his forehead gently, "You'll be drunk eventually. Just give it time and more drinks."

"Still lame," Craig groaned as her rolled onto his back, then sat up. He readjusted his hat before standing up, "M'gonna go to the bathroom," he muttered.

The second he left, you pulled off your jacket and lifted your shirt up to your chest. You turned the binder so the tie was at the front and tightened it as much as you could before turning it back to its original position. However, the piece of fabric wouldn't move across your skin nearly as fast as you wanted it to. Once it was finally back in place, you gave it a gentle tug to see if it would stay in place.

And the motherfucking piece of shit untied.

"SHIT," you shouted. You yanked the binder off and threw it under the bed as you heard Craig's footsteps coming down the hallway back to your room. You pulled your shirt back to it's regular length and put your jacket back on. From now until tomorrow afternoon when he left, you were going to have to be very careful.

He walked back into the room just as you were zipping your jacket back up. "Are you okay?" Craig asked as he made his way back to your bed. You gave a quiet 'yeah I'm fine' as he stopped to pick the drink up he left on the floor. He crawled up onto the bed and sat with his back against the wall. You settled yourself near your pillows and sat with your legs cross-crossed. You looked up at Craig as he spoke, "Your hair is getting kinda long. Are you growing it out?"

Oh right, you'd forgotten that you didn't put your hood back up. You reached up and touched the ends of your hair where it nearly reached your chin and shrugged, "I don't think so, I just haven't cut it in a while."

Craig frowned, "No, I like it. You should grow it for a little while."

"Really?" You asked with a raised eyebrow, "I don't know if that'd look good on me."

"Don't worry, anything would look good on you," he said before putting his face in his hands. "What the fuck did I just say," he spoke through his muffled hands. From what was visible of his face, it was evident that he was blushing. He silently shook his head before removing his hands. "Sorry."

You shook your head, "Nah, man, its all good. A compliment won't hurt." You tried to hide the fact that you were also beginning to blush by picking up your cup and taking another drink. Damn, Kenny. Of all the times to start acting like a girl, you thought to yourself.

Craig muttered something illegible under his breath that you couldn't hear, despite how close you were sitting to him.

A few more glasses of whatever you were drinking ("Craig's Cup of Great" as he had stated earlier) later, you were drunk out of your mind, and you were pretty sure that this is going to be one of those nights you don't remember. Craig, on the other hand, looked like he didn't remember anything from five minutes ago. He was singing a song for some indie pop band that you didn't know the name of to you, but it had nothing to do with love or friendship or anything of the sort. It was about punctuation or something like that. Commas, maybe? You weren't really sure, but you didn't really care either. When the song finished, he played an invisible guitar solo (did the song even have a guitar solo? Probably not) and finally leaned back against the wall with a smirk on his face.

"Beautiful. A true masterpiece," You told Craig with the least amount of slurring you could muster.

He laughed loudly, "Thaaaaaaaanks."

The two of you sat in a silence for a while. It wasn't awkward. It was happy. And drunk.

"So," Craig started, "What now?

You shrugged, "I don't know."

"Lie down on your back," he told you.

You did as you were told with a small frown. He moved so he was on top of you, sitting on your stomach. "I'm going to kiss you now."

"Wha-," was all you got out before he was pressing his lips to your's. You weren't really sure why, but this didn't bother you, at all. You wrapped your arms around his neck, drawing him in closer. Craig ran his fingers through your hair and settled himself more comfortably on top of you. You felt his tongue prod against your lips, and opened them just a crack.

You weren't really sure what was going on anymore, but you weren't going to complain. You felt his fingers remove themselves from your hair and instead slide down the length of your body and back up again. He reached for your jacket's zipper and pulled it down. He ran his hands over your sides once more, but with only your shirt covering your skin. Then under the shirt. Everything seemed perfect until he reached your chest.

"Wait. What the fuck is this," He said, pushing your shirt up to your collarbones, "What the fuck are these."

You had no clue what he was talking about until he placed his hands over your breasts, kneading them lightly. They were tiny, only an A cup, but you could deal with that. "Those are tits, Craigy," You told him, closing your eyes. He brushed his thumbs over your nipples, making you lean into his touch.

He frowned, "But why are they on you. Since when do you have tits. What is going on," he spoke in a monotone voice.

"I'll tell you laaaaaaaater," you whined. You really just wanted to get onto it. Opening one eye, you saw that he was looking at your face with a frown, but after a few seconds, he looked down at your chest again and sighed.

"Fine," he said before leaning down and wrapping his lips around your right nipple and sucking. You let out a quiet whine and squirmed when he pulled away and grinned. You thought that he was going to stop, but he just blew cold air on it, making you shiver, and repeated the actions on your left. He ran kisses down the centre of your body in a line, finally ending at the button to your jeans.

It took him a little while to figure it out in his drunken state, but he finally got the button undone, in the meantime you pulled your jacket and shirt off, throwing them to the floor. He roughly pushed your pants down to your knees, leaving you to kick the ends off. You grabbed onto his shoulders as he reached for your boxers with his hand while coming back up to kiss you once more.

"Wait," you breathed out. He stopped what he was doing, pulling his hands away from you and sitting back on his haunches. You reached for him, pulling the zipper to his hoodie down, leaving him to take it off for himself. Craig allowed you to take his shirt off and unbutton his pants. He stood up on your bed to take them off, and sat back down again.

You sighed and he looked back at you with a blank expression on his face. You bit your lip before asking, "You ready?" He nodded in response and placed his hands on your thin thighs. He leaned back against the wall in a lazy looking way. "Lift up your hips," you instructed him. When he listened, you wrapped your fingers around the hem of his underwear and pulled them down and off. You leaned back and pulled your own off.

"Do you have one of those, uuuuuuuuh, whatever they're called?" Craig asked in a slow and lazy, drawled out voice.

You frowned, "A what?"

Craig closed one eye in thought, then the other; he looked ridiculous when he did that, but he always did it anyways, regardless of what you told him. "Uh... a condom?"

"Oh," you said, "Right. I forgot about that." You scratched your chin. While you weren't a virgin by any means, you were horrible when it came to safe sex. It was times like this that you were glad that you weren't a guy, or there'd be way too many little Kenny's running around. "Maaaaaaaaybe," you replied to his question as you rolled off the bed and onto the floor carefully. You pulled a bag of things you've collected from sex ed at school over the years out from under the bed and dug through it. You pulled out three different kinds. "What flavour do you want?" You asked as you placed them on your mattress next to each other. Craig rolled over onto his side so he could see what you were showing him.

He rolled his eyes over the little packages before pointing to the centre one - banana flavoured. Pre-lubed and everything. You weren't really too sure why it needed to be flavoured (blow jobs weren't really your thing anyways), but whatever. With a nod, you took the other two and placed them back in the bag before climbing back up next to him again. Gently, you wrapped your fingers around his erection, pumping it to get it harder before inching yourself to him. You opened the package with ease, but took a little bit longer to roll the condom into him.

Once the condom was on and you were ready, you climbed on top of him and wasted no time sliding him into you.

"Shit," you muttered once you were fully seated on him. He nodded in response before placing his hands on your hips, pulling you up and down. Craig's hands and eyes didn't stay in one place. They wandered over your too bony ribs and your oddly thin thighs and your tiny arms and seriously how in hell did no one figure out that you were a girl before now? You look so... feminine. Especially with no clothes on. Jesus fucking christ was everyone in this town just an idiot or were you better at hiding things than you thought?

After you simply riding him and him touching your body wherever he could reach, Craig put his hands back on your hips to roughly buck up into you. You let out a gasp, a moan, then glared down at him. "Don't do that, asswipe." He let out a chuckle and did it again. You shook your head and leaned down to press your lips to his with a small grin on your face.

"Kenny," Craig gasped from below you the second you parted your lips from his.

You made an extra effort to move faster as you replied, "Yeeeeeeees?"

He closed his eyes and his head went back, "I'm almost...uh... done," he said awkwardly. It was all you could do not to laugh. You'd seen enough porn and read enough magazines that sex simply wasn't something that that bothered you. You often forgot that it was something the average person just didn't talk about in public shamelessly. Craig on the other hand, you could tell that he'd be pretty uncomfortable talking about this later on. He'd put on his calm face, of course. He almost always had it on. But it was all in his eyes. His eyes were like a book. A picture book. For five year olds.

"Good," you said with a grin. You pressed your lips to his neck and sucked, for no reason other than to leave a mark. It was a little bit harder to move your body when you were leaned forwards like this, but you pushed past that.

You let a moan escape your lips before rejoining them to his neck. Craig let out a half sigh half grunt noise and sped up his pace juuust a tad. With the condom you couldn't feel him come, but in all honesty, you hated that feeling anyways.

"Would it be okay if we changed positions?" Craig asked you slowly, "I feel like I'm doing nothing."

You slowed down and stopped. "Yeah sure. What were you thinking?"

He wrapped his arms around you and rolled over so you were lying below him. Craig unraveled himself from you and sat back on his haunches. He placed his hands on the backs of your knees and pulled them up onto his shoulders.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you realized that he'd probably sobered up a bit since you two stopped drinking, and that if you didn't get him to drink something soon, he'd remember this whole night.

Yet, you couldn't exactly bring yourself to care at the moment.

Carefully and slowly, he slid back into you. Why he was being so gentle with you, you weren't sure, but you sure as hell didn't like that.

"Faster," you demanded of him, "Harder." You let out a quiet moan as he did as you commanded. Your head fell back against the pillows and you shut your eyes with enjoyment. "If you fucking stop I swear I'll kill you," you threatened him.

Craig let out a chuckle and kept up his pace. You let of a short series of groans as he continued on, your hands uselessly grasping at the sheets below the two of you.

For a virgin, he's pretty good at this, you thought to yourself just before he lowered one of his hands to where your bodies joined and began rubbing on your clit. "Oh fuuuuuuuck," you moaned as he pressed just a bit harder. You reached your arms up and wrapped them around his neck, pulling him down to your face so you could rejoin your lips to his once again. Doing this caused him to lose the rhythm of his hips, but you didn't mind that much. You released him and let him go back to what he was doing.

Craig did exactly that for the next few minutes before your thighs began to tremble and your breathing sped up even more. "Ah, Craig - I - fuck," you said as your back arched up off of the bed and you let out a loud moan as you came. He slowly slid back out of you again and tried to pull the condom off of himself without making a mess everywhere.

"Gross," he muttered to himself as he spilled a bit of his own come onto his leg. You let out a snort of laughter as you sat up against the wall. Craig tied a knot at the end of the condom and aimed to the best of his abilities towards your small and overflowing garbage bin. You ignored the fact that he completely missed. He grabbed his boxers and put them back on before flopped down beside you on the bed face down. You placed your hand on the back of his head and ran your fingers through his hair. His hat had fallen off at some point in time, not far into your drinking session.

The two of you laid like that for a while; your hand in his hair and him lying still. You weren't sure if he fell asleep or not, but either way, the silence was comforting. It let you think.

And think.

And think.

Until you felt too tired to think any longer.

You leaned off the bed to search for your underwear, shirt, and blanket. It didn't take long for you to find all three and pull them up. You placed them all on you before curling up next to Craig (kid was like a fucking furnace, jesus christ) and falling asleep.

When you awoke, the sun was shining directly into your eyes, Craig's forehead was leaning against the side of your head above your ear, and his arm was draped protectively over your stomach. You knew he was awake because you could feel his fingers slowly moving over your hip bone. You didn't know how much he remembered, but you could only assume that it was enough, because he wasn't really one for cuddling.

You realized that you were very cold when a shiver ran through your body. You reached for the thick blanket, which was really just multiple blankets sewn together, up and over both your and Craig's heads. You turned to face him until the makedo fort.

"Mornin'", you greeted him.

He snorted, "It's the afternoon."

"Damn."

There was a short silence before he asked, "...Do you want to go get coffee?"

You nodded, "That'd be nice."

He didn't bring up what happened the night before, and neither did you. And you were alright with that.