86 Feelings (Stan x Kenny)[Completed]

2

(Day 14)

"Clyde, sit the fuck down, and turn on the game!"

Cartman yelled in typical fashion, earning a snicker from Craig on the other side of the room.

The guys of the restaurant were crammed into Clyde and Cartman's apartment for their weekly game night. Well, it wasn't so much a game night as it was a "let's see who can get the most drunk and still play video games" night.

Their group made "game night" part of normality the last six years. It was the main thing Stan looked forward to every week, and even though he felt pathetic even thinking that, he continued tipping drinks back. He would've been in a better mood if they hadn't invited Kenny McCormick this time.

He couldn't focus on anything else going on around him. Stan ignored any real attempts at conversation, only focusing on the game in front of him, and the liquor being continuously poured in his cup. It wasn't a good idea to come without Kyle - he was more afraid than usual he'd do something stupid.

It didn't help that Kenny sat on the floor in front of the couch, in perfect view of Stan's wandering eyes. He just couldn't stop. The way Kenny moved the controller around like it would help him maintain first distracted his usual impeccable driving abilities.

He's so hot, but also fucking cute! Stan bit at the inside of his cheek. He forced his eyes back onto the screen, scowling as he realized that he'd been very distracted.

"C'mon, Marsh! What the hell?!" Craig groaned from the other side of the couch, his cheeks tinted red with inebriation. "You fucking suck tonight!"

Scoffing, but feeling his own face burn with embarrassment, Stan refocused. He didn't want to lose. And yet, even after his fight to get back up to third, Stan couldn't catch Kenny and Craig.

Once Kenny won first, his dark blues found Stan. The shorter of the two did his best to act as if he didn't feel it, the intensity behind them made his hands shake, though. He damn-near spilled all of the whiskey down his shirt.

"Shit!" Stan complained with a slight slur at his damp shirt. Everything was hitting him all at once. "Y-You guys got more?"

Sighing over dramatically, Cartman reached to an unknown area, and presented an unopened whiskey bottle: "Fuck yeah! But, Stan, you actually have to race this time! Stop eye-fucking the new guy, and give us a challenge!"

Kenny still watched him, and now, Stan was sure he was enveloped completely in red. Why did Cartman have to say the shit he did? As embarrassing as it was, he couldn't help it anymore - Stan snapped his head over to the blonde, only to find the eyes turned away. Man.. is this all in my head?

"Shut up, you fat fuck." He growled like a second-nature. Stan wondered again for the billionth time why they even bothered being friends with Cartman.

As soon as the game started again, he couldn't pay attention to shit. Stan was fighting the urge to stare at Kenny with the intention of imagining what his tongue would be like in his mouth; Stan's curious gaze fixated on him almost automatically, though.

Kenny's presence was enough for him to believe in something different.

So, why was he so surprised when he opened his stupid mouth? "Kenny, where'd you go to school?" Stan interrupted some other conversation, earning an awkward lull of confused silence. He wanted to hide, but pushed through it, with the help of liquid courage: "Ugh, goddamn guys, sorry. Just wondering why we've never seen him before. Why haven't we seen you before?"