Title: 101 Kisses for Tweek and Kenny
Author: Twitchable Wiz
Genre: romance/other
Rating: from TPG through MR just to be safe
Fandom: South Park
Pairing(s): Tweek/Kenny
Warnings: language, slash, possibly others mentioned at the beginning of each theme or chapter.
Summary: Written for the 101 Kisses Challenge. Kisses featuring my favorite blond twitchable in the whole world, Tweek; and his/my also-blond sex-god Kenny. Boy do I have a thing for blonds.
Disclaimer: All characters presented herein are the property of Comedy Central, Trey Parker, and Matt Stone. No profit of any kind is being made from this story. I don't own; please don't sue. I'm dirt-poor anyway, so it's not as if you'd get much. I just love these characters to death, and enjoy playing with them in my mind. twitches Any and all song lyrics or literary quotes, unless otherwise noted, are the properties of their respective owners, who will be credited at the end of each chapter. Once again, I do not own, don't sue poor Twitch! Anything otherwise noted, such as poetry or original lyrics, as well as the plot and storyline, are mine. Please do not use, copy, or post elsewhere without explicit permission from me. Printed copies are perfectly fine (if you actually think my work is good enough to print out) as long as proper credit is given. You can reach me through my homepage, listed in my profile.
Further Disclaimers: none unless specified at the beginning of a theme or chapter.
Author's Notes: Written for the 101 Kisses Challenge on LJ. I've finally been approved, so YAY ME! I've come to the realization that after just one posting, I am already a reviewer junkie. Reviewers make me dance and dance and dance. Nobody tell…… So in light of my newfound addiction, please tell me what you think! I will love you forever, and all my pretty reviews will be printed out and hung on my Achievement wall with my diploma, dance plaques, ASVAB scores…all the things in my life I am truly proud of. That's how much they mean to me! pets reviews GO YOU!
I will be posting individually on my LJ and in the 101Kisses community, and here in groups of five.
For Maggie, as ever. For getting this ball rolling too. GOSH YOU ROCK!
Theme #2— Goldfish and Cheez-its rock my mouth off. And also, fingers are involved. Read at your own risk.
Goldfish and Cheez-its belong to whatever delightful company makes them. I don't own, though I should buy stock.
Theme #2—Four of Diamonds
"I'll see your ten, and raise you five more. Eat that, Marsh!" Kenny grinned as Stan flipped him off. Poker night had become a high school tradition, and the trash-talk was standard.
The black-haired boy put in an additional five Goldfish, then looked expectantly at the twitching young man sitting next to Kenny.
"Oh! I'll see that and raise you ten more!" Tweek eagerly put in fifteen Cheez-its. He vibrated in his chair, grinning from ear to ear at being invited to this gathering of the "cool" kids.
"Hey Tweek, I don't think that's such a great idea," Kyle whispered in his ear. He was Tweek's helper, since Tweek had never played poker before.
"It's okay! I think I've got this down!" Tweek replied.
"If you say so," said Kyle with a dubious smile, shaking his head in amusement. The other boys chipped in their ten cheese-filled snacks, and then laid out their cards.
"Full house! Read 'em and weep, Kenny!" Stan sat back with a smug grin.
"Ha. Straight flush! Burn, baby, burn!" A tongue stuck in Stan's direction earned Kenny both fingers this time. The two old friends turned to look at Tweek, who appeared quite flustered, then with an exclamation he laid out a single card.
"Four of Diamonds! AHH!"
There was a moment of silence as Kenny and Stan looked at each other incredulously, then burst into hysterical laughter. Kyle closed his eyes with a grimace.
"It's the best card I have! Is that not right?"
"Not exactly. I told you it was a bad idea, Tweek," Kyle said, chuckling along with his friends.
"What? I panicked! Geez!" Tweek stared at the card in embarrassment.
Kenny leaned forward and ruffled his blushing boyfriend's wild hair, kissing him soundly on the lips. Collecting his cheesy goodness, he grinned at him.
"Tweeky, I think we need to go over the rules again."
Themes #3 and #4—These two themes should be read as a pair. One is in Kenny's POV; the other is in Tweek's. These are a lot deeper than my previous themes and fics. Still with the uber-romance, but less fluffy and more dramatic, with slight angst thrown in for good measure. They probably seem almost character-Gary Stu-ish in that the descriptions are pretty overdone, especially Tweek's, and too good to be true. The idea behind it is that true love often sees with the eyes of perfection. At least that's how it works for me. I know the faults are there; I see them but I just don't care. (Yay for rhyming Twitch. Didn't even realize it till Beta-ing.) Which I think is a good thing in love. You know all the dirty secrets they carry, all the little flaws they have, and love them anyway; you still think they're perfect. So here are the "introspective poet" sides of Kenny and Tweek.
Kenny…
Theme #3—Path of Sin
I walk in a world of death. Everything dies at one time or another; everything has an end. Except me. Death is never the great finale, never my final bow. I don't ever get taken to a better place, or to be with Jesus. When I die, I return soon after to wander my world of death once again.
Life before him was pointless. Nothing seemed worth living for. Why try when there is no "great reward"? With my background, it would have been so easy to fall headlong into the dark.
The path of sin is an uncomplicated one. No rules, no regulations. If someone disagrees with you, it's easy to take them out. Of all people, I know how frighteningly quick life can be snuffed out. With as many times as I've given my "last" breath it'd be cake to bring it about for someone else.
I can drink and smoke; screw and shoot up. I can lie, cheat, steal, and kill. There are no consequences. I don't have to worry about Heaven or Hell. I may visit for a spell, but I'll be back before I know it.
The temptation is strong. It'd be much simpler to embrace the darkness. It's what 99.9 percent of the world expects from me anyway.
Most people look at me and see poor, redneck white-trash. A pervert and a whore. Look at the dirty street tramp. A couple bucks for his next meal and he'll fuck you halfway to the Moon and back. I've never done a thing to give people that impression, though I admit some of my jokes can be crude or risqué. Still that's all they see. Why work to prove them wrong?
He's the reason. He changes everything.
He never looks at me like that. One glance and I feel beautiful. Inside and out. Like I can do anything, as long as he is there to gaze at me with that blind faith.
My Tweek. He's like a drug, but infinitely better. He makes me strong and weak at the same time. I see colors and dream dreams I never thought possible. He stills my restlessness, yet makes me want to leap howling with laughter from the highest points imaginable. All with one bashful smile.
God probably doesn't feel that invincible.
He's so beautiful. Totally hot. Absolutely gorgeous. Made even more so by the fact that he doesn't even realize it.
Bright cerulean eyes gazing up at me through that unnatural yellow hair. Short and skinny almost to the point of unhealthy, but still well-formed and quick as a whip. Shy, trembling half-grin and skin warm with the lightest of pinks. His paranoia shivers through his body, and his eyes rarely ever stay in one place for long. But when he looks at me, all that trembling melts from him. He's actually calm, and it gives me a feeling of greatest pride to know that out of everyone in this great, big, dark world I am the one who gives him peace. Who knows why? But I'm certainly not going to dwell on it.
He writes the most incredible things. Poems and stories; even just a "Hi Kenny I miss you!" note turns into a masterpiece. He's some kind of odd genius, brain power the likes of which I've only seen once before, in my friend Kyle. It's usually hidden by the fact that his brain and body go way too fast for him to keep up. But he puts pencil to paper and it spills out in a flood. Talent? He's got it in spades.
He is my idol. Terror in human form, yet he still goes out of his way to bring light and laughter. Nervousness walking, but he forever strives to step beyond his comfort-level and be the man he wants to be. He grabs my heart in his shaking hands and constantly shows me something new and beautiful about life, just through the simple act of trying.
I am his calm, and he is my reason to live. Not just to live, but to strive, and thrive, and change the world from what I see into what it should be.
Death's running gag and fear personified. We're an unlikely match, but when he reaches for my hand, nothing seems more right. With a caress of his fingertips, the world lights up brighter than I could ever describe. His lovemaking ignites my everything in unfathomable bliss that lasts long after we're curled up together, recovering our breath and falling into rest.
When his lips tentatively touch mine, I see Heaven and know that I have a place there.
The path of sin might be easy, but his kiss tells me that there are better things. Even through the black, sunlight can be seen if you know where to look. Silver linings are everywhere, if someone will just show you the way.
And now Tweek…
Theme #4—Words
We grow up from birth learning words, taught through example our base means of communicating with those we interact with throughout life. Our education systems require us to take classes to broaden that knowledge; learn the whats and wherefores of it. A vast majority of our entertainment stems from words, further extending our grasp of this all-encompassing concept. Even people who can't speak or hear have other methods of utilizing these building blocks of civilized existence.
I'm good with words. Writing is my mood stabilizer. When I was ten years old, I finally went to see someone who could help me deal with the mental and emotional problems rampant in my life. Rather than prescribe harmful drugs with harsh side effects that would make me nothing more than a hollow shell of myself, he prescribed a journal. He told me that when I began to feel like I wasn't in control, to write whatever I was feeling down. It worked brilliantly. And after eight years, you pick up a few things. I can recount my day down to the most minute detail, and make you feel like you were there every step of the way. I can describe a person in a paragraph and give you a precise, vivid mental image even if you've never seen the person in your life. Sunsets, flowering trees, a cold and blustery day…I can make you experience them with all your senses in a snippet of prose or a grand flowing poem. I can take you through any emotion you care to name and leave you panting at the end.
Words are my medium, and I can paint the world with them.
Except when it comes to him.
Turn a phrase, spill my heart, give you textual witness to his beauty? Nothing I pen comes close to it.
I can try all I like to show you him through my eyes. It's never adequate.
His soul-catching smile. Slightly tilted up in one corner, giving him a perpetually mischievous demeanor. Teeth straight out of a toothpaste commercial, brilliant white and flashing in his ever-present delight. Eyes so blue the sky weeps in jealousy, slightly crinkled at the corners from his constant happy grin. The gentle slope of his nose, shifting ever so slightly in the middle from a childhood accident. Dusky-rose lips, full and soft as silk, more pouty than most men. Small fragile-looking ears that stick out just a bit. His hair cut to softly caress the smooth skin of his neck, a glory of burnished gold; wavy and outshining the sun, reflecting the smallest fragment of light in chaotic bursts of flashing fire. His skin lightly tanned from his love of the outdoors, cheeks flushed with the barest hint of rose. A face decidedly masculine, yet almost elfin in the delicacy of the bone structure. Sculptors, painters, artists of every sort; they'd give their souls to render that face into eternity.
I try to depict his splendor with pages of worship and everything falls short. So many words crammed into my head and my vocabulary is still too limited.
The way he moves…only God himself could have inspired that fluid elegance. His body is lithe, the body of a dancer, a natural-born athlete. Slender, toned muscle wrapped around long bones. He's not so tall, but you can sense the strength hidden beneath his patchwork clothes. When he runs, he is liquid energy flowing over the ground. When he dances, physical becomes spiritual.
My most carefully planned lyrics scream at me in failure; I've not even touched him. I'm mocked by my own supposed "skill".
Even when I look at him from a purely sexual perspective, I don't fare any better. Lust is supposed to give you new eyes to see with. Heaven knows I lust after him with everything in me, and the naked perfection of his body is something I've beheld many a time; still I can't form a sentence about it to save my life.
His skin is smooth and soft, but with the ever-present feel of hard muscle underneath. He's always warm to the touch. Never hot, never cold. Just delicious tingling warmth that flows from him to me and leaves me aching for more. Broad shoulders, well-developed chest and deeply defined back muscles. The cut lines of his abdomen, rippling with every breath. Those line curving over his slim hips and plunging tantalizingly down the front of his ripped jeans. I fantasize frequently about running my tongue along said lines. I can smugly inform you that it is infinitely better in real life.
He has powerful legs, corded with sinuous muscle; a track runner's legs. He has got the most gorgeous ass I have ever seen. Perfectly rounded, wonderfully firm and sliding ever so flawlessly into my large, clumsy hands. As for the treasure in front, all you are going to get out of me is that I can't complain. At all. Ever.
Syllable upon syllable I pour out, and he's still beyond my grasp. His loving heart and passionate soul open up a whole new fit of artistic frustration for me.
His life is a great staggering homage to pain. He's dealt with things that would send any normal person howling off the edge of sanity. If I had been in his shoes, I would have slit my wrists with all the violence I was capable of.
But he's not me or anyone else. There's nothing normal or ordinary about my Kenny.
Through all his trials and heartaches, he has forever remained true to himself and what he believes. Quick with a smile and a joke, every horrible occurrence is greeted with a light heart and an abiding sense of fun. He has never given in to the darkness that could have enveloped him so easily. He could have forfeited years ago, relinquishing all to the Death that stalks him. He could have wallowed in depravity and anger. Not him. That blaze of good that is so quintessential to who he is has always shown brightest when all seemed against him. He is the soul of generosity, ever giving out of the little he has. He never loves by halves. His whole being is given to those he cares for. His family, his friends, and to my everlasting awe and wonder, me.
He's a romantic and an idealist. Always enamored of the good in people and events. He preaches about silver linings, winking at me and telling me that every situation can have sunshine if you know where to look. Yet I think he makes the silver linings through his all-consuming desire to brighten people's lives.
Especially mine. His hand links with my own, and all my insecurities melt away. A ghost of fingertips against my cheek and my whole soul fills with tranquility. Our bodies press close in perfect intimacy, and all the energy and fire I possess roars through me, leaving me floating in quiet ecstasy long after we're passive again, slumber creeping drowsily over us.
The branding brush of his mouth on mine and my fears are no more, lost in the knowledge that he'll be my protector into the farthest reaches of forever.
Drivel. Mindless letters scribbled out with nothing of him in them. I crumple my pathetic attempts to immortalize him in furious disgust. I could write till the sky falls and the earth is swallowed in flame. Millions of novels and libraries of odes. A mere fraction of what he is worth is all I'd have to show for it.
But maybe it's impossible. Maybe words, for all their power, can't sum him or our love up. Maybe everything I ever need to know or say is present in the feel of his lips meeting my own.
Theme #5—Featuring very naughty Kenny and domestic Tweek…grins stupidly. The rest is inconsequential. There will be a brief moment of full nudity, and pretty much constant half-nudity for the rest of the fic. Now that I have everyone's attention… grins even more stupidly Also, more fingers. But in a totally different way. oo-la-la eyebrows. Rated R for aforementioned nudity, and well…other things. Nothing graphic…this is fanfiction dot net after all. But…well, read at your own risk.
Theme #5—Strawberry Jam
Kenny woke to the smell of pancakes and bacon. Without opening his eyes, he rolled onto his side and felt the space next to him on the bed. An eye cracked open as he realized he was alone.
Pulling himself up to a sitting position he surveyed his surroundings. The room was as familiar to him as his own. He smiled drowsily at the impeccable neatness, running a hand through bed-head blond hair. No 19-year-old boy's room should ever be that clean.
Yawning, he got out of bed. After a leisurely search for his briefs, he pulled them and a MOOP t-shirt on and exited the room. Mr. and Mrs. Tweak on vacation was a truly wonderful thing. He shuffled down the hall, scratching himself inappropriately. Still half-asleep, he was brought fully awake by the sight greeting him in the kitchen.
Wearing a yellow t-shirt, Terrence and Phillip boxers, and a flowery apron was Tweek. He was standing at the pancake maker, staring at it with intense concentration. Kenny couldn't help the soft chuckle that escaped at the sight of Tweek's face, eyebrows furrowed under his tousled yellow hair, lips twisted as he gnawed on one side.
Kenny snuck up quietly behind the other boy and grabbed him about the midsection, hugging tight. His chuckle turned into full-throated laughter when Tweek jumped and tried to break free before realizing who held him. Tweek relaxed back against Kenny's slender frame.
"Good morning, sunshine! Just had a Susie Homemaker moment this morning?"
"Jesus Christ, Kenny! I could have had a heart attack and died!"
Kenny smiled slyly, planting a kiss on the side of Tweek's neck. "Well then I would have just had to give you mouth-to-mouth resuscitation."
Tweek flushed scarlet, and hastily returned his attention to the pancake maker. Kenny released him and leaned up against the counter, observing with cheerful affection that adorable expression grace Tweek's face again.
"I just figured we both deserved a nice big breakfast after yesterday. We both worked real hard."
"Oh do you mean last night? I'll say we worked hard. I think we broke your bed!"
"Ack! Kenny! I meant helping Stan move into his apartment!"
"Oh. That. Not nearly as much fun though." Kenny gave his boyfriend a leer. Tweek's furious blush returned twofold and his hands shook as he checked his pancake.
"Done!" He pulled the freshly-made pancake from the griddle and added it to the heaping plate he already had.
Kenny looked on in amusement as Tweek bustled about the kitchen, placing pancakes, maple syrup and bacon on the table. Plates, forks, and knives soon followed. He opened the fridge and peered inside, withdrawing a large jug of orange juice and a small jar of his mom's homemade strawberry jam. The orange juice joined everything else on the table, and Tweek returned to the counter. Opening the jar with another comical face, he began to slather the thick jam on a stack of toast he had waiting. When each piece was liberally coated, he set down his butter knife and looked at his fingers with a frown.
"They're all sticky. Erg!" He didn't notice the delighted grin that spread across Kenny's face.
"Let me help!" Kenny grabbed one hand and began carefully licking every trace of jam from them. Each finger was given deliberate attention, pink tongue lapping and swirling around each digit. When he was finished with one hand, he switched to the other, grinning naughtily at Tweek's closed eyes and flushed cheeks. It became a look of unadulterated lust when Tweek let out a soft, trembling moan.
When he completed his task, he released Tweek's hand and stepped back, smirking. Tweek let out a shuddering breath and opened his eyes. The next thing Kenny knew he was pressed back against the counter, Tweek's mouth pressed hotly against is own. After a moment of kissing, Tweek finally stepped back, breathing hard.
Kenny gave him a devilish smile and a wink. "Nothing like strawberry jam with your breakfast."
"If you keep doing stuff like that, we'll never get to eat the wonderful breakfast I made!" Tweek responded with a blush and a fond but exasperated grin. He didn't exactly look like he minded.
Kenny licked his lips.
"It'll keep."
Theme #6—This theme was really hard to write, for the simple fact that I'm so massively medicated that I just don't care about much of anything. All my creative fire seems to have gone out. And it's making me the vegetable equivalent of bitter. As in I would be if I could be. So in light of that fact, I am inordinately proud of this theme, though I don't think it's very good compared to others. But I wrote it through the haze, and that's what matters to me. Features IndignantTweek…everyone register shock and awe. Also features PuzzledKenny…everyone register WTF? A thousand points to anyone who can name the brand of green tea mentioned in this story. I love the stuff!
Theme #6—Green Tea
Tweek jumped slightly as the door bell rang. He'd been expecting Kenny all morning, but the jarring tone still scared him. Placing the novel he'd been engrossed in aside, he nearly flew to the door. He opened it to reveal his orange-clad boyfriend, who was shuffling his feet in the snow piled in the entryway.
"Morning, Kenny!" Tweek hurriedly stepped back to let Kenny in. After removing his hoodie and shoes, Kenny enveloped Tweek in a hug.
"Wow, you're really cold! Come on, I'll have you warmed up in no time!" Tweek grabbed Kenny's hand and started toward the living room. But before he could get very far, Kenny stopped. His head cocked to the side, and he sniffed loudly.
"What the hell?"
"What's wrong, Kenny?" Tweek stared at a still-sniffing Kenny in confusion.
"It doesn't smell like coffee. Who are you and what have you done with my Tweeky?" The expression of puzzlement and horror on Kenny's face made Tweek giggle.
"Silly Kenny. It's me…I just didn't make coffee this morning." Tweek laughed out loud as Kenny's visage grew even more perplexed. "I found something just as amazing! I ran down to the convenience store for some milk last night, and there it was! I don't know why I just had to buy it, but I did, and I'm so glad I did! You have to try some!" Tweek bounced excitedly and tugged on Kenny's hand once more.
Kenny let Tweek lead him to the living room. Once there, the two boys sat down on the sofa, Tweek snuggling into Kenny's side and drawing the blanket he'd been using over both of them. He reached over his book to a bottle sitting on the side table.
"Here, try it! It's fantastic! And it's really healthy too! Good for energy and stuff."
Kenny examined the bottle closely. It was about half-full with a pale green liquid. "Like you need more energy, Tweeker. Green tea, huh? I think I've heard of this company. I recognize the little lizard guy." He screwed off the lid and took a hesitant sip.
"Hey! This is really good!" He took another swallow and passed the bottle to Tweek. Tweek proceeded to down the entire drink in a large gulp.
"You ever heard of sharing?"
Tweek smiled sheepishly. "Sorry. There's a whole bunch more in the fridge though. I went back earlier and bought them out."
"Another addiction, eh? This doesn't bode well." Kenny said affectionately, giving Tweek a wry grin.
"I'm not addicted!" A frown instantly graced Tweek's face, startling Kenny in its vehemence. "I don't need it. I don't need coffee either. I could quit at any time, and I hate that people always make me out to be some kind of junkie. I just really love it."
"I'm really sorry, Tweek. I didn't realize it bothered you so much." Kenny felt ashamed of himself for constantly teasing Tweek, just like everyone else. Sure, he meant it with the deepest love, but obviously Tweek was rather offended by it.
"It's okay. You didn't know. It usually doesn't, just every now and then it gets under my skin." His demeanor changed to thoughtful. "I only have one true addiction. One thing I can't live without."
"And what's that?"
Tweek reached up and pressed his lips to the side of Kenny's neck.
"You." A sharp intake of breath and a look were the only preludes to the intense make-out session that followed.
Sometime later, Tweek withdrew and rose from the couch, leaving a slightly miffed Kenny breathless and waiting.
"I don't know about you, but I need more tea. Gotta keep the energy levels up, right?"
A wicked grin was Kenny's only reply.
Reviews make my existence...poor drugged Twitch needs some happy. So I'd love to hear if you liked, and what you liked if so.I have my own favorite parts, and it always makes me happy to hear someone liked them as much as I did. If you didn't, that's okay too...tell me what I can do to improve. If you hated...you can flame, but be warned you will be greeted with a complete lack of anything resembling interest. Could be the meds, could be I don't really give a hoot cuz I enjoy myself way too much. LOVE AND GLOMPS TO EVERYONE! Especially all the wonderful friends I have made so far in my short tenure as an actual part of this site and others.
Your friend,
Twitch