86 Feelings (Stan x Kenny)[Completed]

5

(Day 388)

Stan couldn't decide if Kyle was his super best friend, or his super worst enemy.

He managed to convince Kenny to finally come to their place - without consulting Stan. And, since the party a couple of weeks ago at Clyde's, he'd been doing his best to avoid interacting with Kenny too much. Stan didn't want to bother him.

That's all he could ever manage to do to people. Of course, Kyle was realistically an awesome best friend, but when it came to the rest of their friends, and even his girlfriend, Stan just felt like a nuisance. The last person he wanted to bother was Kenny. Getting to know him for over a year had shed some light on the life he kept private; things had always been complicated for him. His home life sucked growing up, and Tammy didn't treat him very well. It wasn't much for Stan to go off of, but at least he knew something about him.

To throw Kenny into someone like him would be catastrophic, Stan convinced himself. Who was he to come into his life, and introduce him to his own bullshit? He had too much bullshit.

No one asked him shit about shit either, and that was good. The last thing Stan needed was for Wendy to pick up on his feelings. They didn't matter anyway, it was never going to happen between them. Stan was convinced even if they were single at the same time, someone like Kenny would never find him attractive.

He couldn't hide in the bathroom forever, though.

The casual laughter of Kenny and Kyle echoed through the hallway outside the bathroom - it was enticing Stan to fall deeper into wrongful feelings. But, he had to keep going like it didn't matter..

Joining the two once again, just as a joint was sparked up, Stan avoided Kenny's unreadable eyes. Sometimes, he couldn't even tell if they were looking at him. Kenny had blue eyes, yet they were still shadows of unspoken pain, and dissociation.

Stan took the joint from Kyle's hand, and silently inhaled the mind altering smoke. He didn't want to be in his own consciousness right now. The longer Kenny sat in their living room, filling the small area with the scent of him, Stan just wanted to fucking explode.

And then, those dark eyes were studying him again. They always seemed to flick away before Stan could hold them, but they would find him constantly. Why did he have to keep up with the torture? It's never gonna happen.. I owe Wendy loyalty for staying with me through all my shit.. Stan subconsciously started rubbing his damned scar. Why is this pull so intense? All this pressure in the space between us.. What does it all mean?

"Stan?" Kyle elbowed him, a flash of concern ghosting in his emerald eyes. "You hear me, dude?"

Finally passing the joint to Kenny - without making eye contact - Stan shook his head. "Nah. Zoned out."

Not wanting to call him out in front of Kenny, he nodded at Stan, understanding where his head might've been. "We're gonna go grab some food, wanna come?"

Kyle was giving him an out. If Stan jumped on the opportunity to get food with Kenny and Kyle, he considered it might make things too obvious. Besides, he obviously needed to take some time to get his head straight, and stop tracing his scar. "No, I'm, um, gonna take a nap.." Stan rubbed at his face to sell the exhaustion, even though the reality was much different. "Bring me back something?"

Frowning, Kyle nodded once before Stan pushed up from the couch. Trying not to read into the odd look in Kenny's eyes, he sent him a wave before slipping off towards his room. He knew it was awkward, but he couldn't give a fuck right now. Being around Kenny was too much of a problem.

Glancing down at the white scar again that haunted him for seven years now, Stan felt so pathetic. Because, really, what would a guy like Kenny ever want with someone like him?