86 Feelings (Stan x Kenny)[Completed]

22

(Day 516)

Kenny was avoiding Stan.

At first, since it was incredibly busy at work, he didn't notice. After a lack of contact over the next few hours of being there, Stan finally realized something was wrong. He didn't have time to deal with it. Unfortunately, graduation parties were starting to solely fund the restaurant's business - which left no time for any of the employees to rest.

Stan was juggling a twenty top, and four other tables when it clicked in his mind what seemed to be transpiring: avoidance. He stared at the POS, his eyes connected with the reflection of the screen in disbelief at the realization. There was nothing to do about it until later.

Except, it plagued him the rest of the night.

It even showed in the orders Kenny made for him, they came out slightly faster than everyone else's, so Stan wouldn't have to ask him for anything. His blood boiled; anger was a good motivator for focus, however, and it only pushed him to show off in front of Kenny. Managing too many things at once was the only flex he had.

By the very end of the night, when Stan finally got the absolute destruction left by the twenty top cleaned up, he was defeated. Outside, hot and angry, Stan sat on the ground with zero fight left to give. Somehow, the customers yelling at him most of the night had been more bearable than the cold shoulder from Kenny.

With Kyle not there, and everyone else busy with their own shit, Stan let his emotions explode outside. Truly alone, he bashed his hands against the brick wall, the throbbing pain immediately distracting him from that stupid desire for Kenny's attention.

I should just leave everyone alone! All I do is fucking bother everyone anyway! Would it be too hard to jump on a train, and never look back?

Stan fell to his knees on the abused pavement, looking at newly bloody, bruising hands. The cycle repeated. There had to be a different choice he could make that would lead him somewhere other than self harming. It wasn't the type of harm he used to do, but didn't this still count? Hating himself to the point where he needed to feel pain wasn't normal.

He sighed. That was the only thing he could do. He refused to give up, so what else could he do? Stan didn't want to live like this. The self hatred, the punishments, and the agony - he did it all to himself.

No wonder why Kenny didn't want to talk to him anymore. But, that's what all of this was about, right? How the person he loved the most was shutting him out, and there was nothing he could do about it. Stan knew better, it wasn't about him. Fuck, I'm being incredibly selfish! I have no idea what kind of day he had yesterday, I can't take everything so fucking personally. It's not fair. I'm not being fair.

Logic prevailed. It amazed Stan. He may have had a lapse in self control, but here he was, pulling himself back to where he needed to be. Stan could handle the closing duties now.

Walking back into the kitchen, he was reminded of his bloody hands as they ached from opening the door. Stopping at the sink on the back line, Stan winced as the water stung the open wounds. He was an idiot though, he knew he shouldn't have done that. And of course, since he was trying to hide the fact that he had done something that other people wouldn't like, Kenny started towards him from the other side of the back line. His damn long legs had him there in seconds, staring down at the blood rinsing from Stan's wounds, and circling down the drain.

"What the hell?!" Kenny grabbed his wrist, inspecting his hand like an angered parent.

Ripping his injured hand away from the tight grasp, Stan flinched at the tone of voice. Although he acknowledged his existence, he still felt a lot of resistance from Kenny. "It's nothing. Don't worry about me."

He didn't take Stan's dismissal well. Kenny threw the pan in his hand against the metal table next to them, an already pre-existent rage making itself known. "Why do you do this shit, and then say 'oh, don't worry about it'?! What's the fucking point of that? What games are you playing?!"

"Kenny," Stan clenched his fists again as he took a couple steps back, more blood oozing from the wounds. "Did I do something to you?"

"I don't like games." Kenny spat, like Stan should've understood what he meant.

But, lost on what the hell was happening, he only looked bewildered. "I don't- What the fuck did I do? When you left yesterday I thought everything was fine! Why don't you just talk to me instead of fucking yelling at me?!"

Kenny tried to walk away, and Stan couldn't believe it. After approaching him with unexplainable rage, he had the audacity to try and walk away? No - Stan had reached his limit for the night. He followed right after him, trailing him until he flipped around again.

"What's your problem?" Stan tried to maintain a calm voice, but knew it sounded deeper than normal. "I don't want to fight with you. Don't make me."

It didn't mean to be a threat, yet Kenny didn't like it. He growled: "Not making you do anything. You wanna tell me how you really feel about me? 'Bout fuckin' time!"

Stan was lost all over again. "Excuse me?"

"Someone said-"

"Oh, hell no!" Stan knew where this was going. This was the type of shit that he hated about people - some of them never grew out of high school. And, for Kenny to believe anything from someone else? He was pissed. "If you want to believe some shit that someone said, then be my fucking guest! But, if you really think I would be hanging out with you, and tell you important shit for 'games', then you haven't been fucking paying attention! Who do you think I am? Thought you saw me for someone who wouldn't do something like that! Man, how fucking dare you?!"

A paleness settled into Kenny's face as he realized how deeply he'd affected Stan. "I- Stan, I'm-"

Devolving into a laughing fit as his eyes welled up with tears, Stan started back tracking towards the back door. "God, I'm so fucking stupid! Just.. leave me alone! Fuck!"

Why? Who is trying to cause a rift between me and Kenny? The tears were spilling out from his eyes as he started down the sidewalk, not even bothering to clock out, or finish his closing duties. He'd deal with it tomorrow. Being in the same building with Kenny was a nightmare, currently.

For Kenny to just believe what someone told him despite their friendship? Stan was flabbergasted. Right now, it didn't matter that he was in love with Kenny, they were best friends, and he still didn't give him the benefit of the doubt.

Am I in love with the wrong person?