It had been two weeks, and they still hadn't had sex. Kyle realized that this was relatively normal as far as all the relationships he'd ever heard about went, but he'd always thought that was because said relationships involved girls. This thing with Kenny was completely new territory; he was flying blind, trying his best to fit around this new part of his life without a blueprint or guide. Kenny seemed to be okay with it, so far, but frustratingly enough being Kenny's...something...had not made it easier to get a read on what Kenny was thinking. Kyle had thought that, once they were together, things would just sort of ride into the sunset or something. Not that it hadn't been amazing, these past couple weeks, being able to reach out and take Kenny's hand, or just smile at him in the halls and feel his heart jump when Kenny smiled back. And learning the small sounds Kenny made when he was being kissed was like a drug. But Kenny'd never pushed, never tried to go further, and Kyle's hormones were getting ridiculously out of control. The more Kenny left him flushed and panting between classes, the more bizarre his fantasies got.

He tried to talk to Stan about it, once. He got as far as "See, it's about our, um, sex life--" when Stan clapped his hands over his ears, squeaking, "I can't hear that, dude! La la la la la..."

After that, he decided not to ask Stan about sex, or lack thereof, anymore.

He certainly couldn't ask Cartman, and of course asking Kenny was completely out of the question, so he was pretty much on his own. He just had to--wait it out, or something, until Kenny was ready.

Unless that was what Kenny was doing. Was Kyle not giving off 'ready' signs? He wasn't even entirely sure what they were, or should be. They hadn't even gone on a proper date yet, or what Kyle thought dates were supposed to be like, with the flowers and restaurants and whatnot.

Well, no matter what they were or weren't, Kyle knew what he wanted them to be--more or less--and he was done waiting for Kenny to make the first move.

That was how Friday night found him at Kenny's door in a button-down shirt and slacks, clutching an orchid that he'd paid way too much for, a bit more nervous than was reasonable.

When Kenny answered the door, he blinked slowly, his expression making Kyle blush a little, still surprised every time.

"Hey."

"Hey," Kyle replied, then thrust out the orchid awkwardly. "I, uh. For you."

Kenny stared at the orchid for a blank moment, then reached for it tentatively. "...Thanks. Um, what's the occasion?"

And now the plan that sounded so smooth, so failproof in Kyle's head was falling to pieces. "I thought. Out, somewhere. We could."

The corner of Kenny's mouth twisted up, helplessly, weirdly amused. "You asking me out?"

"I...yeah. That's it."

Kenny hesitated, the harsh, stuttering light from inside the house throwing his face into shadow and stray wisps of hair into bright gold. He should have looked strange, clutching a white orchid with his beat-up orange hoodie and a dark smudge on his cheek, silhouetted against the bare and broken kitchen light, but Kyle'd never thought him more beautiful.

"I can't."

Kyle felt a jab of nausea; he'd misunderstood the situation again, he'd fucked up again, no matter how hard he tried he'd never get it right.

"I--I mean, I don't have anything to wear." Kenny looked a little alarmed: something of the terrible rejection he'd felt must have shown in Kyle's face.

It was an unutterable relief to hear that Kenny was just being an idiot again.

"Shit, I don't care. Kenny, I--how do you not get that I don't care?" Kyle stepped closer, partly wanting to reassure and partly just wanting to reach out and ground himself. The urge was always there, nowadays, to get closer whenever he possibly could, to shut his eyes and feel the warmth from Kenny's skin, smell that weird mix of sweat and dirt and unexpected almond that was just completely Kenny, and maybe if he ever got up the nerve, slide a hand up Kenny's shirt to feel his heartbeat under his palm, bury his face in Kenny's neck and just live there forever. "We don't have to go--somewhere fancy or anything. I just. Thought maybe it'd be nice. If--do you want to just go down to Stark's Pond?"

"What's there?"

Kyle shrugged, his skin fairly buzzing in a very familiar fashion with how much he was not touching Kenny. "I dunno. The stars. And, uh. Us, if you want."

He couldn't quite read Kenny's expression, but he thought he seemed pleased.

Stark's was quiet; nobody really cared to go down to the pond anymore. Everyone old enough was in somebody's basement drinking, down at the pub drinking, or staring blankly into the television encased in their living rooms. Probably drinking.

So it was just the two of them and the blue-black sky, the trees and the starlight. Kyle kept sliding glances over at Kenny, trying to decide if he should break the silence; whether or not this was an awkward kind of silence or something that could be left alone.

As it turned out, Kenny was the one who spoke first as they wandered along.

"So, stars, huh?"

"Sorry. I guess this was kind of a stupid idea." Kyle shoved his hands awkwardly into his pockets, staring at the ground. He snuck a look at Kenny to find him grinning a little.

"Nah. C'mere."

Kyle was only too glad to let himself be pulled stumbling forward into the warm press of Kenny's mouth, let his eyes fall shut to better concentrate on the feel of Kenny.

Somehow Kyle's hands had ended up just under the hem of Kenny's parka, clutching at his hips and pressing him impossibly close. There was just no way that Kenny could avoid noticing how much Kyle wanted him, and Kyle had some pretty solid evidence that the feeling was mutual.

The other boy was rubbing up against him like a cat, tilting his head just right, hands fisted in Kyle's jacket, and Kyle was almost dizzy with how good it felt.

When they broke apart, panting a little, Kyle whispered, "I want you."

Later, he blamed the lack of blood flow to his brain.

Kenny made a strangled kind of noise, which Kyle promptly cut off with another kiss. A moment or an eternity later, Kenny murmured into his mouth, "...not here."

Kyle made a concentrated effort to pull himself together, and suddenly realized what he'd just said.

"Um. Sorry."

"Don't be." Kenny's teeth flashed white in a surprisingly shy smile. "I mean, if you don't want to you don't have--"

"I do. I want to." The world seemed to be growing very small and intense with how very much Kyle wanted to.

Kenny seemed to be hesitating, fingertips twisting in Kyle's jacket. "My...my folks are out for the weekend. If you want, we can. Y'know. Go to my place."

He was so damn hard to read, especially through this haze of pure smothering need. And maybe it wasn't the best call, but Kyle was done taking the safe and cautious route, done trying to decipher some cryptic message in every word and glance. Seventeen and sick of being a clear-headed virgin who made responsible choices. It seemed ridiculous, now, to think of anything but this chance.

"That sounds great."

//

He'd been doing so well up until now. He'd been so determined to do this right, to not push or fuck it up somehow, and now...well. Now he was walking too close to Kyle on the way to his wreck of a house and wreck of a room, planning to have sex with the most important person in his life on a broken mattress without a bedframe. When he added it up in his head it sounded like a bad thing, but the eager, nervous smiles Kyle was sending his way bound his tongue and shackled him to his stride. It was just so hard to break this tenuous balance, however badly he wanted to take Kyle's hand, ground himself, buy strength from the warmth under bright green wool and the affection he was so slowly learning would be found in Kyle's grip and Kyle's eyes.

No matter what Kyle had said, it was a constant shock whenever Kenny was made to realize that the other boy might actually, you know, sort of like him. It was becoming easier and easier to be less guarded around Kyle, less closed off, because of that pleased, happy look Kyle got whenever Kenny opened up a little.

And all of a sudden they were outside his house, and Kyle was pushing the door open and tugging him through by the sleeve.

Fuck.

He fought the rising panic as well as he could, and let himself be led into his bedroom, mind full of too many thoughts. Kyle looked a little unsure, now, and Kenny desperately hoped it would be okay, that he still wanted this, wanted Kenny, despite everything. He reached out blindly for warmth, memorizing each touch, looking for some kind of salvation. Kyle backed up towards the bed, and Kenny followed as helplessly as if he'd been leashed.

It was as if he and Kyle and the world were being cast anew. Every awkward movement, every miscalculation and misstep was smothered by the sheer fact that this was happening. He trusted Kyle, really trusted him, and that made it infinitely easier to let Kyle slowly undress him with that intense, focused look on his face. Every moment seemed to hang crystal clear in the air; every detail etched itself onto his memory. It was so, so good to catalogue the way Kyle tried to hide his small shuddering gasp as he pushed into Kenny. That flush on his collarbone, the way Kyle almost whimpered with pleasure, sweat-damp curls clinging to his face, would stay with Kenny forever.

It was as if part of his mind was watching from the outside, saying Remember this. No matter what happens, you will always have had this.

Afterwards, still wrapped up in a tangle of limbs and sweat and other, quickly-drying fluids, Kyle murmured something into Kenny's neck.

"Hm?" Kenny was preoccupied with pushing his hand through Kyle's hair, tugging gently at the strands and watching them spring back.

Kyle pushed himself up on one elbow. "I said, I love you."

Kenny stilled for a moment, not entirely sure what he was feeling. This was a good thing, right? It was supposed to be. But he knew better, about hormones and about post-coital glow, and most of all about himself. On the one hand, he knew there was no real future here. Kyle wasn't going to stay with a guy who lived on the wrong side of the tracks and ate pop-tarts for dinner. On the other...he was being offered this, and there was no way in hell he could make himself turn it down.

Fuck it.

He reached out for Kyle's hand and laced their fingers together. "Love you too."

A/N: First, I'm sorry this took so long. It was surprisingly difficult to write given how largely pointless it is, especially--as usual--Kenny's part. Plus, there was school involved in the delay. Apparently college means you have to do work. Who knew?

Also, am sort-of working on another KxK that might surface.

Whether or not they are 'actually in love,' and what that really means, was a source of much concern to me. Being 19, I remember quite clearly what it's like to be around that age and fancying yourself madly in love. Even if afterwards you decide it wasn't really love for whatever reason, at the time it feels like the most important and true thing in the world. At least, that's how I recall it. Who knows? Maybe it's just a different kind of love than the kind that's supposed to be Real Love, the kind that leads to marriage/commitment ceremonies and 2.5 kids/cats. So...fuck it. They think they're in love, and maybe that's valid enough.

I probably overthink my stories way too much.

Speaking of which, I think I'd like to rewrite a couple of the previous chapters. Not incredibly happy with them upon reading and re-reading them obsessively. That is how I roll. So...I don't really know how this alerts thing operates (by the way, it is very flattering that some of you have put me on your alert system, however it works!), but sorry if it sets anything off.