Cargo Car Confessions
Day 1: October 15 -First Time-
Summary: When Kenny ditches his bad date he relies on Stan and weed to make him feel better, even if that required them sharing embarrassing confessions and perhaps a kiss.
I’m so excited for @stenny-week and in some places it’s October 15th already so i wanted to post early! Please enjoy!
Stan had just stolen the ball from Cartman, blocking him from behind as he clutched the ball in his chest before thrusting it forward in a successful pass. Kyle caught the ball with ease— that was just one of the many perks to being on the basketball team— then he jumped off his back foot to slam dunk the ball into the hoop. The force of the dunk caused the hoop to shutter. it loosened the black sticky tape used to keep the hoop together after years of abuse and neglect.
“This is bullshit!” Cartman huffed with a healthy sheen of sweat coating his face, giving him the appearance of grease-soaked tomato.
“Sorry, dude. We won.” Stan stopped the ball with his foot then picked it up with his hands. Kyle did his winning trot towards Stan, holding his hand out for a high five, “good job, man.”
Cartman wasn’t done with his childish protest, “well!” He began, searching for the words he wanted to say before stammering at the two pairs of eyes staring at him, “well…” again, he struggled, wishing Kenny was here to back him up.
“It’s not a fair game because Kenny isn’t here!” A-ha, he got them now. Kyle and Stan moved over to the bench where Kyle dabbed his forehead and neck with the towel he brought with him. Stan tossed him an extra Gatorade.
“Kenny’s not here because he’s on a date.”
“Exactly, which means we’re down a player, which also means it’s not fair game.”
Stan and Kyle exchanged a look.
“Ya know what, screw you guys! I’m going home!” Was Cartman’s declaration. He kicked aside an empty can of beer left by either upperclassmen or a drunken adult. It was hard to tell nowadays.
Kyle rolled his eyes, pushing up a stack of curls that have fallen from his loose bun, “you can’t go home, fatass, all of our shit is at your house.”
“Can’t hear you! I’m busy going home, you gaywads!”
Stan felt three pulses from his pocket, ignoring his friends bickering to divert his attention to the texts he was receiving. His body shifted sideways on the bench, heart racing with excitement as he half expected the texts to be from Wendy. Perhaps she wanted to get back together even though they broke up in middle school. She made it clear that she had no intention of being his boyfriend, even going out with Token of all people, until he suddenly had some sexual awakening; realizing he would rather suck dick instead of being with one of the hottest girls in school.
He rolled his eyes hard, taking on one of Kyle’s many mannerisms as he recalled past events. Cartman and Kyle’s idle chatter sounded nothing more than muffled sounds— like someone yelling behind a thick glass. Stan unlocked his phone.
Kenny: Hey, man, you busy?
Kenny: wanna meet me at our spot?
Kenny: nvm, ur probs with Kyle and Cartfuck—
A quiet chuckle escaped Stan’s parted lips. He continued to read the text:
Kenny: — u know where I am. Ps. I got weed ;)
His eyes glossed over those messages more times then Stan could count, “Stan? Stan? What the hell are you smiling at? It’s kinda creepy.”
Kyle was left standing in front of him with a slight concern dampening his features. The towel he’d previously used now slung around his neck, pale and covered with speckles of faint brown freckles.
“Uh…” Stan licked his lips, contemplating an excuse he could tell his best friend and have it sound believable. They knew each other like the back of their hands. Literally. He pocketed his phone, rubbing sweaty palms on his sweats.
The weather in South Park had been warmer than usual considering it was the middle of October. While Halloween decor met the eyes of anyone passing through their neighborhood, some houses started early with stabbing turkey and pilgrim lawn ornaments in their front yards. Global warming, said Randy like a scratched record over their dreaded dinners. According to him, it was real and ready to fuck us raw in the ass.
Kyle tapped his foot impatiently for an answer, hands resting subconsciously on his hips. His posture resembling one of his mothers when she was about to scowl them. Stan snorted.
“I gotta go, uh, my sister wants me to pick her up a box of tampons?” As he spoke aloud it sounded more ridiculous then it had in his head. What the hell, Stan? Your sisters in college you dumb fuck.
“She’s back for Halloweengivings… My parents thought it would be better to combine both holidays. Nothing better than carving a pumpkin and shoveling down cranberry sauce.”
Kyle blinked, “Uh, okay?”
“Great!” Stan shot up from his seat, giving Kyle a pat on the shoulder, “I’ll text you later, dude!”
He walked with a quickened pace, afraid that Kyle would try to stop him for questions. Sometimes he nagged more than he realized, even though he was only trying to be a good friend. A rain of guilt washed over Stan for lying to Kyle. He lied before. Plenty of times actually.
Once safely around the corner of the block, Stan made haste to Kenny doing god knows what by himself when he was supposed to be on his date with Tammy. Without a doubt she was hot, returning to South Park after moving to California. When she returned she developed an ego bigger than Cartman’s ass, along with an attitude comparing to none of the other girls in their grade. California changes people. Too bad she was still a slut.
At least that’s what the girls said.
Stan slowed his walking. He sniffed the burning grass as he approached their spot— the abandoned railway just minutes away from Kenny’s house. Tilting his head up at one of the many cargo cars rusted from years of weather damaged, he recognized the graffiti drawn on the sides. As well as the smell.
“You got a head start without me, asshole?” His voice echoed through the abandoned field of cars, picking up a rock to chuck at the rusted door. It bounced off the metal with a loud hallowed clink.
“Stan the man.” Kenny pulled the door aside, greeting his friend with widespread arms. Stan felt his heart thump.
“Move aside.” He hoisted his body up, then knee crawled over to his respective end of the car. Stan knocked aside the junk they collected; consisting of empty bottles of wine stolen from his dad, single cans of beer Kenny snagged from Kevin’s pack which steadily grew into a rather nice collection for them, darts, slingshots, and a bunch of other shit.
Kenny closed the door after Stan was in. Instead of relying on the crack of light from the setting sun, the inside of the car was illuminated with a string of Christmas lights connected to a lengthy power cord hooked up to Kenny’s house. Together they had made the perfect “man” cave.
“I thought you were on a date,” Stan said, knees hugging his chest as if he was intruding in the space they created together. Those nauseating butterflies returned to flutter around his stomach.
“I was, then I left.” Kenny passed over the joint sloppily rolled together as if he had done it halfheartedly to quickly get the relief he desired. Stan was no expert at rolling anything. Even he knew it wasn’t his best work.
Kenny hooked a section of his sandy blonde hair behind his ear, exposing the multiple piercings neatly aligned on his outer lobe. He’s done all his piercings himself. Stan bummed off the joint. He attempted to quiet his mind from the indirect kiss from Kenny by smoking it out with the burning kush.
“She’s a bitch. There’s a big difference between being with her to get my dick sucked and actually pursuing a relationship.” Kenny spoke with a bitterness behind his words, “I don’t know. I thought it would be easier to ask her out considering we had a thing before. She’s changed.”
Stan shrugged, slouching back with eased muscles as the joint burned slowly between his fingers, “so you text me?”
A lopsided grin stretched across Kenny’s face, showing off the tooth missing from an accident he had when they were kids and crooked teeth unfixed from his families lack of money to get him braces.
“Of course! You’re my best friend after all. Besides, you wouldn’t judge me like Kyle would.”
“Yeah…” Stan’s voice trailed, eyes following the posters they tapped on the car walls, “he can’t help himself.”
“Yeah, he really can’t.”
They sat in the comfortable silence they created, the two of them passing the blunt back and forth until it became roach and they could no longer smoke it. Their minds were hazed yet relaxed. Nowadays drugs were the only thing able to ease their teenage minds from the angst and stress. Stan found this to be his only escape from the suffering thoughts thanks to his depression and anxiety. Kenny smoked for his own reasons. He just wanted to chill from time to time.
“I thought you were Wendy.” He spoke slow and a bit sluggish, tongue untied and free.
“I thought you were over her, man. She’s no good for you.”
“I love her…” Stan admitted, clutching the fabric on his grey sweats between his hands. He still loved her, he always will.
Kenny spun the dart between his fingers, eyes locked on the boy across from him.
“I could… distract you.” His offer did not go without the flush of red spreading across his cheeks.
“I’m not… I’m not gay.” Stan’s throat tightened and suffocated his words.
“Neither am I… I mean… I think everyone is hot. Guys, Girls, and those in between.” Kenny admitted, crawling over towards Stan to take a seat next to him. They were close enough in the cargo car that Stan could smell the scent of aftershave emitting from Kenny’s body. He felt his stomach twist and turn at two things. Kenny’s confession and the fact they were so close to one another.
He was hot, funny, and Stan could always be himself around him. Instead of Kenny judging or trying to diagnosis his problems like Kyle, Wendy, or his parents, he was allowed to rant and cry out of frustration. They related to each other. Their lives at home sucked just as bad as their friends.
Stan was not gay. From what he knew he was straight with only a few gay mishaps. An embarrassing mishap being the time he got a boner during a sleepover at Kyle’s house. He accidentally walked in on him changing and caught a glimpse of everything. They swore to never speak of it for the sake of not making their sleepover painfully awkward, but Stan could not shake the mental image from his mind as he used his imagination to relieve himself once Kyle had fallen asleep.
Then there was that one time when he was still on the football team and they traveled to Denver to play against their best high school team. He was sharing a room with Craig, Clyde, and Token— to his utter despair since they only spoke in inside jokes which made Stan feel like an outsider. Stan discovered a gay magazine that must have fallen out of one of their bags. While they were fucking around in the pool he stayed behind in the room and allowed his curiosity to roam. He liked what he saw.
Kenny inched closer, resting a hand on Stan’s thigh but doing nothing more because he did not want to do anything if Stan wasn’t comfortable. He did like Stan. A lot.
In those seconds they both sobered up, blue eyes meeting a mysterious purple, adding to the many features Stan loved about him.
“I- I never kissed a guy before.”
Kenny chuckled, “it’s just like kissing a girl, except… Girls taste sweeter. Sort of like fruit because they wear chapstick and shit. Except for Craig-”
“Wait, you kissed Craig?” Stan questioned in disbelief. The weird competition he and Craig had with one another flaring like a newly lit flame ignited from jealousy.
“Spin the bottle. He tasted like a fucking fruitcake.”
Stan chewed on his lower lip. “Since we’re confessing I only kissed Wendy once… And Kyle. We practiced on each other when we were kids.”
“I thought you said you never kissed a guy?”
“T-That doesn’t count! We’re like super best friends so it wasn’t a real kiss!” Stan felt himself get defensive, not appreciating the skeptical looks Kenny was giving him. It was completely normal and not gay for friends to practice on one another.
“Chill, I’m joking-“
Stan silenced him with a kiss. Tensions melted away at the contact of their lips. Kenny tasted as sweet as old candy, also weed. Creating a strange yet familiar flavor. His tongue swept the bottom of his lip, making Stan look more confident than what he was.
Kenny pressed in, moving his tongue around for an entrance into his mouth. Their kiss was sloppy, awkward— because of the angle they were in— but exhilarating.
When they pulled apart for air, Stan was as winded as he was during his game with Kyle and Cartman. He had never experienced a kiss quite like that.
“How was I…?” What else could he say? He and Kenny just kissed for fucksake! Was he going to say thank you?
“Kissing Kyle really helped.” Kenny joked, nearly falling to his side from the playful shove from Stan.
“You weren’t so bad either. That was like my first real kiss, dude, so I guess you took my kissing virginity.”
“You’re so lame.”
Stan flipped him off, hugging his body with his hands. He just kissed Kenny. Him and Kenny, lips locked, in full make out. What were they now?
“You okay?” Kenny pried one of Stans’ hands out from his weird human arm wrap, playing with his fingers before sliding his own in between. There was no way he could know how Stan feels now but he only dreamed about being his boyfriend, fantasizing about the pathetic crush he had since they were 13 years old.
“So are we dating?” Stan blurted. He was unable to look at Kenny’s eyes just in case he said no or something else which might break his heart for the second time.
“I would say we are… if you want too. We don’t have to tell the guys yet if you’re not ready.”
“So…” his tone a childlike whisper, “I guess this means I’m gay? Do I have to have, like, a big coming out party.”
Kenny smiled, “you don’t have to put a label on everything. Look at me. Who cares if you’re straight, gay, or bi. Be with whoever makes you happy.”
Stan nodded. He unraveled from his hold around his body to lean into Kenny, holding his hand tight. Right now he didn’t want to think. He just wanted to close his eyes and enjoy the moment.
“I’m going to punch Craig for kissing you, I hope you know that.” He murmured, knocking his shoe against Kenny’s.
“It was two years ago, babe. Besides, I would much rather kiss my boyfriend then Tucker.”
Stan’s heart raced again. Boyfriend. That’s right. They were boyfriends now. The title sounded like music to his ears.
Eat shit Craig Tucker.