[FANFIC] Just Tonight - Craig/Kenny
Title: Just Tonight
Author: ienvy
Fandom: South Park
Pairing: Craig/Kenny
Rating: NC-17
Summary: #45 Lust The Table
Warnings: Well, geee... Sexy time might be one of them.
Notes: Written up for norikumi
---
The word bisexual had fit Kenny like a glove, slipping easily over his skin, making it so that those hurtful comments were nothing but insults that battered at his door. Sex addict? Him? Pssh, no! He was just bisexual. Swinger? Now, that was uncalled for. He was just searching for the right person, that was all! Slut? Bitch, you better take those earrings out.
It was through this methodical process that Kenny laboriously went through each party. Insults would be passed to his ear here and there and, generally, he ignored them or gave the insulter a bright smile followed by an upright middle finger. Who cared what they thought about him? He was Kenny McCormick, bisexual, age 17 and dead far too many times to count. Not that he cared to or even tried to. Who on earth would want to remember every single death? Not only did Kenny imagine it would be painful, he also failed to fathom how much memory that would take up (of course, presuming, everyone else died on a regular basis like he did).
It was with this mindset that Kenny adorned himself for the party to come. Music. Dancing. Alcohol. Drugs. And tons of pretty boys and girls he could prey on. It was going to be so great. He hummed as he stood in front of the cracked mirror, bright blue eyes gazing back from his many reflections as he checked to make sure his clothes were in order. Perfect.
His parents hardly batted an eye when he strode past them in the living room. The only one who made any notice of what he was doing was his mother, who looked up and asked if he would pick up some strawberries and cream while he was out. He just snickered and waved a hand behind him. That was closest thing they'd get to a goodbye.
The chosen party destination was Token's house this night. Hell, it was usually Token's house, especially lately. Token's parents were always out and they never suspected sweet, innocent, book-loving Token to invite a few friends over (who invited a cascade more, of course). And really Token, being a goody two shoes, was trying his best to keep the place under order but seemed to be having a hard enough time when Kenny arrived. Poor Token. He knew that by the end of the night, like always, Token would be blasted and slumped over on a couch with some hot little thing giving him the best damn blowjob of his life.
Kenny licked his lips. That's right. He was at a party. He wanted something more than just a sampler, or just a little strip show. In this frame of mind, driven on by desire, it came to be that Kenny chose his toy for the night. A cute boy, who seemed overtly shy and tended to look away whenever Kenny groped at him, making a cute noise of mixed pleasure and embarrassment. He was adorable.
He'd break like a twig and Kenny didn't even know his name.
It was in that dark, dark room that Kenny first felt the eyes. He was lowering his prey for the evening onto the bed, whispering soft encouragement, telling him how everything would be alright. That's when a chill ran down his back. Not any normal chill, either. A horrible, body trembling and kneecaps shaking sort of a chill. Baby blues widening, he pulled away, not quite hearing the whine, and stepped towards the door, freezing on impulse when a pair of dark, clouded over grey-blues stared him down.
He swallowed hard.
If there was anything Kenny McCormick knew when he saw it, it was hunger, lust, desire.
And Craig Tucker's eyes were swirling pools of it.
Though the boy on the bed was drunkenly calling after him, whining for his return, there was no way the blonde was about to pass up an opportunity like this. Craig had been staring at him, after all, with those eyes full of lust and want. Who was he to deny it, anyways? Somewhere beyond the haze his mind swirled with, Kenny was aware that something wasn't right. Something was off. Which one of these things doesn't belong here...? His head rang with all sorts of questions but they went unheard beneath the lust butterflies were setting into his stomach. He followed Craig down the hallway, swaying very slightly, his eyes partially lowered, a dazed sort of smile tracing up, up, up and across his lips.
"If I didn't know any better," Kenny had began to say as he stepped into the empty bedroom Craig had ducked into. The smile on his lips quickly faltered and he froze in the doorway, all too aware now that the hungry look in the other's eyes was only growing, turning into something so strong Kenny didn't know if he liked it anymore.
He wasn't able to finish his sentence.
Craig was pushing him back against the wall, slamming the door shut, a cruel, distant look hiding in those deep blue-grey eyes of steel. His hands were gripping onto Kenny's shoulder with an odd persistence, pinning him there, eyes questioning, searching for the answers to every question that Kenny had ever presented him with. When he had seen Kenny that night, he had thought the same thing as any other night. How good Kenny could look to someone like him was astounding. Never before had his curiosity been aroused by such a seemingly simplistic creature.
But no, Kenny could not be simplistic. It was simply improbable that this blonde boy was as simple as he made himself out to be. Kenny acted as if nothing mattered to him, nothing more than sex with beautiful people, food to fill his stomach, alcohol to keep him happy and the other essentials of someone who had all but given up on life.
"Who are you...?" Craig found himself whispering as he pinned Kenny to the wall with his hips. He could already feel the other's stiff arousal in his jeans, prodding and poking at Craig's through his own pants. He pushed harder, earning a pleasant groan from the Kenny kid. "Who are you, really...?" His voice was still, his eyes were just as cold as before. He almost sounded cruel, not that he meant to be. Kenny could only groan in response, the questions evading him.
Craig flicked his brow down in annoyance and found himself scanning the blonde's chest, his hand moving to follow the path his eyes made, trailing it along above the shirt, at first, before sliding his palm underneath. Fingers, cold and clammy, pressed against a warm, flush belly and Craig was sweeping his hand all across the surface, his eyes clouded over once again by that peculiar feeling of lust Kenny so often inspired within him.
"What do you do...?" He was whispering past blonde hair and into an ear, though this question earned no answer either. Not that he minded, really. His jeans were growing tighter and his own erection had begun to strain against the inside of his pants, begging him to pay attention, god damn it to the wonderful buffet Kenny made. Questions and thoughts abandoned, Craig gripped hard onto Kenny's cheeks, not meaning to grab quite as tightly as he had, and was pushing their mouths together, moving against his prey with oddly expert-like quality.
Their tongues rolled together as their hips did, in near unison, Kenny's breath coming hard and fast into his mouth, full of wanton moans and begging little whines. How could Craig deny all those amazing little noises he was making? Kissing Kenny hard enough to steal away his breath, the darker haired male ran his fingers across the length of the blonde's stomach, dipping his hand lower until his fingers twisted around Kenny's length, earning a pleasant gasp. Hand loosely around his stiff arousal, Craig pumped slowly, his mouth too concentrated on the one opposite his own to care that he was going much to slow to be considered a handjob and was going too fast and far for it be considered playfulness. This, of course, was earning pathetic noises from Kenny's throat that struggled to push away Craig's lips, everytime failing horribly at the task.
The noises he was making, though, they were good enough to make Craig cream his pants right there and walk off as if nothing had happened. He had heard those noises in his dreams, heard the quiet grunts of pleasure, the gasps and pants of a monster stuck in the throes of passion. His hardness was growing to the point of being painful. Just by a little bit of hard grinding and thinking.
"You too," he demanded huskily into the other's ear, pressing their chests hard together, his hips arching pleasantly as Kenny's hands hurried to obey. A grateful moan slipped from his mouth and into the heavy atmosphere of the room, Craig not bothering to hold back mostly because he knew no one would ever hear it.
And as they pressed to each other, holding one another against the wall, jerking their hips madly together, Kenny screaming obscenities of how great he feels, Craig's breathing even, steady, except for a slight jagged intake of air now and then. For once, as he held Kenny down, he was glad he knew what Kenny being bisexual allowed him to do. Once this was all over with, it would be forgotten. Kenny would go back to his usual table. Craig would remain stone faced. That was how it worked, that was how it always worked. No strings. No attachments. Just desire and the fulfilment of it. Just how Craig liked it.
They ground together against the wall, hands down one another's pants, the neatly made bed remaining undisturbed for the time that they occupied the room. And in that dark room, Kenny lost himself to someone he has never truly known, nor ever truly bothered to know. But as his hips jerked numbly away from the wall and into Craig's (almost) skilled fingers, he can't help but wonder if he'll be able to get seconds.
Author: ienvy
Fandom: South Park
Pairing: Craig/Kenny
Rating: NC-17
Summary: #45 Lust The Table
Warnings: Well, geee... Sexy time might be one of them.
Notes: Written up for norikumi
---
The word bisexual had fit Kenny like a glove, slipping easily over his skin, making it so that those hurtful comments were nothing but insults that battered at his door. Sex addict? Him? Pssh, no! He was just bisexual. Swinger? Now, that was uncalled for. He was just searching for the right person, that was all! Slut? Bitch, you better take those earrings out.
It was through this methodical process that Kenny laboriously went through each party. Insults would be passed to his ear here and there and, generally, he ignored them or gave the insulter a bright smile followed by an upright middle finger. Who cared what they thought about him? He was Kenny McCormick, bisexual, age 17 and dead far too many times to count. Not that he cared to or even tried to. Who on earth would want to remember every single death? Not only did Kenny imagine it would be painful, he also failed to fathom how much memory that would take up (of course, presuming, everyone else died on a regular basis like he did).
It was with this mindset that Kenny adorned himself for the party to come. Music. Dancing. Alcohol. Drugs. And tons of pretty boys and girls he could prey on. It was going to be so great. He hummed as he stood in front of the cracked mirror, bright blue eyes gazing back from his many reflections as he checked to make sure his clothes were in order. Perfect.
His parents hardly batted an eye when he strode past them in the living room. The only one who made any notice of what he was doing was his mother, who looked up and asked if he would pick up some strawberries and cream while he was out. He just snickered and waved a hand behind him. That was closest thing they'd get to a goodbye.
The chosen party destination was Token's house this night. Hell, it was usually Token's house, especially lately. Token's parents were always out and they never suspected sweet, innocent, book-loving Token to invite a few friends over (who invited a cascade more, of course). And really Token, being a goody two shoes, was trying his best to keep the place under order but seemed to be having a hard enough time when Kenny arrived. Poor Token. He knew that by the end of the night, like always, Token would be blasted and slumped over on a couch with some hot little thing giving him the best damn blowjob of his life.
Kenny licked his lips. That's right. He was at a party. He wanted something more than just a sampler, or just a little strip show. In this frame of mind, driven on by desire, it came to be that Kenny chose his toy for the night. A cute boy, who seemed overtly shy and tended to look away whenever Kenny groped at him, making a cute noise of mixed pleasure and embarrassment. He was adorable.
He'd break like a twig and Kenny didn't even know his name.
It was in that dark, dark room that Kenny first felt the eyes. He was lowering his prey for the evening onto the bed, whispering soft encouragement, telling him how everything would be alright. That's when a chill ran down his back. Not any normal chill, either. A horrible, body trembling and kneecaps shaking sort of a chill. Baby blues widening, he pulled away, not quite hearing the whine, and stepped towards the door, freezing on impulse when a pair of dark, clouded over grey-blues stared him down.
He swallowed hard.
If there was anything Kenny McCormick knew when he saw it, it was hunger, lust, desire.
And Craig Tucker's eyes were swirling pools of it.
Though the boy on the bed was drunkenly calling after him, whining for his return, there was no way the blonde was about to pass up an opportunity like this. Craig had been staring at him, after all, with those eyes full of lust and want. Who was he to deny it, anyways? Somewhere beyond the haze his mind swirled with, Kenny was aware that something wasn't right. Something was off. Which one of these things doesn't belong here...? His head rang with all sorts of questions but they went unheard beneath the lust butterflies were setting into his stomach. He followed Craig down the hallway, swaying very slightly, his eyes partially lowered, a dazed sort of smile tracing up, up, up and across his lips.
"If I didn't know any better," Kenny had began to say as he stepped into the empty bedroom Craig had ducked into. The smile on his lips quickly faltered and he froze in the doorway, all too aware now that the hungry look in the other's eyes was only growing, turning into something so strong Kenny didn't know if he liked it anymore.
He wasn't able to finish his sentence.
Craig was pushing him back against the wall, slamming the door shut, a cruel, distant look hiding in those deep blue-grey eyes of steel. His hands were gripping onto Kenny's shoulder with an odd persistence, pinning him there, eyes questioning, searching for the answers to every question that Kenny had ever presented him with. When he had seen Kenny that night, he had thought the same thing as any other night. How good Kenny could look to someone like him was astounding. Never before had his curiosity been aroused by such a seemingly simplistic creature.
But no, Kenny could not be simplistic. It was simply improbable that this blonde boy was as simple as he made himself out to be. Kenny acted as if nothing mattered to him, nothing more than sex with beautiful people, food to fill his stomach, alcohol to keep him happy and the other essentials of someone who had all but given up on life.
"Who are you...?" Craig found himself whispering as he pinned Kenny to the wall with his hips. He could already feel the other's stiff arousal in his jeans, prodding and poking at Craig's through his own pants. He pushed harder, earning a pleasant groan from the Kenny kid. "Who are you, really...?" His voice was still, his eyes were just as cold as before. He almost sounded cruel, not that he meant to be. Kenny could only groan in response, the questions evading him.
Craig flicked his brow down in annoyance and found himself scanning the blonde's chest, his hand moving to follow the path his eyes made, trailing it along above the shirt, at first, before sliding his palm underneath. Fingers, cold and clammy, pressed against a warm, flush belly and Craig was sweeping his hand all across the surface, his eyes clouded over once again by that peculiar feeling of lust Kenny so often inspired within him.
"What do you do...?" He was whispering past blonde hair and into an ear, though this question earned no answer either. Not that he minded, really. His jeans were growing tighter and his own erection had begun to strain against the inside of his pants, begging him to pay attention, god damn it to the wonderful buffet Kenny made. Questions and thoughts abandoned, Craig gripped hard onto Kenny's cheeks, not meaning to grab quite as tightly as he had, and was pushing their mouths together, moving against his prey with oddly expert-like quality.
Their tongues rolled together as their hips did, in near unison, Kenny's breath coming hard and fast into his mouth, full of wanton moans and begging little whines. How could Craig deny all those amazing little noises he was making? Kissing Kenny hard enough to steal away his breath, the darker haired male ran his fingers across the length of the blonde's stomach, dipping his hand lower until his fingers twisted around Kenny's length, earning a pleasant gasp. Hand loosely around his stiff arousal, Craig pumped slowly, his mouth too concentrated on the one opposite his own to care that he was going much to slow to be considered a handjob and was going too fast and far for it be considered playfulness. This, of course, was earning pathetic noises from Kenny's throat that struggled to push away Craig's lips, everytime failing horribly at the task.
The noises he was making, though, they were good enough to make Craig cream his pants right there and walk off as if nothing had happened. He had heard those noises in his dreams, heard the quiet grunts of pleasure, the gasps and pants of a monster stuck in the throes of passion. His hardness was growing to the point of being painful. Just by a little bit of hard grinding and thinking.
"You too," he demanded huskily into the other's ear, pressing their chests hard together, his hips arching pleasantly as Kenny's hands hurried to obey. A grateful moan slipped from his mouth and into the heavy atmosphere of the room, Craig not bothering to hold back mostly because he knew no one would ever hear it.
And as they pressed to each other, holding one another against the wall, jerking their hips madly together, Kenny screaming obscenities of how great he feels, Craig's breathing even, steady, except for a slight jagged intake of air now and then. For once, as he held Kenny down, he was glad he knew what Kenny being bisexual allowed him to do. Once this was all over with, it would be forgotten. Kenny would go back to his usual table. Craig would remain stone faced. That was how it worked, that was how it always worked. No strings. No attachments. Just desire and the fulfilment of it. Just how Craig liked it.
They ground together against the wall, hands down one another's pants, the neatly made bed remaining undisturbed for the time that they occupied the room. And in that dark room, Kenny lost himself to someone he has never truly known, nor ever truly bothered to know. But as his hips jerked numbly away from the wall and into Craig's (almost) skilled fingers, he can't help but wonder if he'll be able to get seconds.