#trying to be better and consistent with the alt text I apologize for not keeping up

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[deleahtarte]

Because He’s Kenny [ Prologue ]

Pairing: Kenny / Butters - Marjorine

Content: Alt Universe - College, Aged up characters, Implied sexual content, friends to lovers

Summary: When your boyfriend can’t get it right, you can trust your childhood best friend to.

Note: To everyone who follows me on tumblr, thank you!! Please consider this as my service to you. This is a PROLOGUE, therefore not the finished fic! It’s supposed to be porn with plot and what we talked about when I did that poll with Marjorine. I’ll post the finished fic on ao3 officially, but everyone here deserves the first look. You guys mean the world to me and I hope I show that enough

Photo Creds: Alai Ganuza

“Are you feeling it?”

“Um…I’m feeling something.” As in a dull, consistent ache.

Creed sighed in frustration, making Marj’s mood drop, too. He tries moving his finger in a figure eight motion, just like what they read about, but that actually made it worse instead of better. “How about now?”

“No…”

With a loud groan that makes Marj jump, Creed reappears from between her legs with furrowed eyebrows. His whole face is practically scrunched up into an expression that could only be described as fed up. “Marj, darling, I think this is useless.”

She closes her legs, pushes herself up by her elbows. “R-Really?”

“Yes,” Creed rolled his eyes. It’s something he does very often at the slightest inconvenience. “why do you want to do this anyways? It’s not like I’m getting pleasure from it. This is just for you. And weren’t you the one telling me that sex should be good for both parties?”

Yes, she did tell him that—but only after Kenny told her that Creed shouldn’t be using her like a sex doll while giving her nothing in return. And she agreed. She got tired of opening her legs for him whenever he wanted and having to go to the bathroom to finish the job herself. It made her feel…like a toy.

“Well, yes, but—“

“But? There’s a but? So you’re a hypocrite.” Creed snapped. “Listen, I really don’t think I need to learn how to eat you out if I’m the one doing all the work when we actually fuck. You lay there like a dead fish and take it, meanwhile I’m tried the morning after because I always have to do every-single-fucking thing! How is that fair?”

Stunned silent, it takes Marj a moment to process what Creed said. He can be mean, borderline cruel even, but it's not often raised his voice with Marjorine.

Seeing her reaction, Creed sighed once again. He didn’t look any less annoyed. “Marj, I…I didn’t mean that. I’m sorry.”

The damage was done nevertheless. Marj stands up, fixes her skirt, and rushes for her bag. Being around Creed when he’s like this is never a good idea. He’s the type of person to feel the highest when he’s high, and to be at rock bottom when he’s low. There’s never an in between. No happy medium.

“Are you seriously mad?” He asked when she makes her way to the door. “I already said I was sorry.”

“We’ll talk later. Preferably when ya aren’t bein’ unnecessarily mean.” As soon as those words left her mouth, she squares her shoulders in pride. Not being afraid of fights is something Kenny also taught her. And even though she is terrified, she can have those bouts of moments where she pretended otherwise.

The door to Creed’s dorm clicks shut behind her. In a matter of hours, Marjorine is sure her phone will start blowing up with apology texts, all which she’s heard and seen before.

The breeze is especially cold tonight. Creed and her had been trying for hours, but it’s just starting to dawn on her how long it’s actually been since they first began their…lesson.

Well, if it could even be called that. It’s hard to learn something when there’s no teacher present. Marj knew how to make her body work just as much as Creed did, which is not at all.

But she knows someone who does…

Her feet naturally takes her to his home, almost instinctively. She bypasses the closed shops and avoids the streets Kenny tells her is dangerous, all the while making sure to keep watch and listen for man made sounds. She owned a mace that went with her everywhere, a Fox Labs one that she knew like the back of her hand. Marjorine first learned how to use it when she was 12 years old and Kenny got worried that, ‘a cute girl like her’ would be targeted by bad people, especially men. So they practiced and practiced until the art of pulling the spray out and aiming became flawless.

Soon enough, Kenny’s apartment comes into view. It’s not on the safest side of town, and a little far from their college, but it was cheap and right within Kenny’s budget. He split rent with his roommate who interned at the hospital, so most of the time, Kenny had the place to himself. Marjorine hoped this was one of those nights.

The elevator dinged to signal her arrival. She steps out onto the 8th floor, stands in front of room 202, and gently knocks on it. Kenny was a late sleeper and an early riser, (none of which he wanted to be), so she doubted he was in bed right now.

A minute later, the door swings open—Marj’s face drops at who she sees.

“Ugh, seriously. You again?” Bernie Kaplan rolled her to the back of her skull, reminding Marjorine of Creed. “Will you ever stop?”

“Heya, Bernie.” Marjorine flashes her best smile, hoping it would ease the lines of irritation on Bernie’s face. “Is Kenny here?”

“It’s Bernadette to you, Majorine. And of course he is. This is his place.”

Bernadette Kaplan is the president of Chi Omega, in the Fellowship Committee, and known to be the most wanted girl at their college. None of that mattered to Marjorine though, because in the end, she only knew Bernie as one thing—Kenny’s girlfriend.

“Can I talk to him?”

“About what?” She asked with gritted teeth.

“Um, well gee, that’s priv—“

From above, a jacket is thrown over the top of Bernie’s head. She scrambles to get it off and turns around, facing— “Bern, don’t answer the door in just your underwear. That shits dangerous.”

Kenny is standing there, every ounce of him wet from the shower. He has a towel loosely wrapped around his waist and a small one hanging around his neck. Marjorine quickly adverts her eyes even though she’s seen this sight a millions times before, and a lot more.

“How about you stop answering the door in just a towel?” She pushed him slightly back as he laughed. Kenny, ever the gentlemen, helps her put his jacket on. It successfully covers her lacey bra that she greeted Marjorine with.

“What’s up, Buttercup?” Kenny eyed Marjorine’s disheveled dress. “Something wrong?”

“No, why, I just wanted to talk.” Marjorine meets Bernie in the eyes, sees the fire in them, and quickly adds, “If you have the time.”

“Course’ I do,” Kenny replied easily. He pats Bernie on the back. “Bern was just about to leave. Is your driver here?”

Glancing down at her phone, Bernie nods. “Yeah.”

Kenny turns to Marjorine. “Let me walk her to the car and I’ll be right back. Go sit and make yourself comfortable.”

Marjorine enters Kenny’s apartment, brushes against Bernie by accident upon doing so. She looked like she wanted to fray Marjorine alive on an open fire and stomp on her charred remains.

Kenny and Marj’s closeness must bother her, Marjorine deduced, because they’ve been childhood friends since they could walk. Maybe even before then.

When Kenny got accepted into college on a soccer scholarship, Marjorine got accepted into the very same one and they left South Park behind together. They likely would’ve lived together as well, but their college didn’t allow students of the opposite gender to room together. Which was why Marjorine resided in the dorms, while Kenny settled into a small apartment here.

In a blink of an eye, Kenny changed to his pajamas; a plain t-shirt and sweatpants he’s owned since junior year of highschool that barely fits him anymore. From the couch, Marjorine watched as Kenny tied Bernie’s shoes laces. He was real careful about it too, knowing they were Golden goose. As he ushered Bernie out the door with his hand resting in the middle of her hip, he turns back and gives Majorine an acknowledging wink. Marj smiles until the door shuts behind him.

Kenny’s apartment is a simple two bedroom with the bare necessities. A tiny kitchen, a machine and a dryer that didn’t work too good, a slim bathtub that Kenny said could barely fit two. All those things might have just made the apartment simply bad, but the good is just as great. The walls are relatively thick, there’s a balcony with an amazing view, and the air conditioning had no trouble going full blast. All in all, Marj deemed it a cozy little place. That may be simply because Kenny’s scent was everywhere here.

Walking to the window, Marjorine made it in time to see Kenny and Bernie walking to the car. It scared her for a bit, because from the back, her and Bernie looked similar. They had the same mellow blonde hair that was often curled.

The two stop short in front of the BMW. From what Kenny told her, Bernie hated to drive, so she insisted on having a personal driver that came at her beck and call. She’s saying something to Kenny, a hand on his chest, and he shakes his head at her. Bernie’s eyes widened in equal measure of shock and anger. She pushes Kenny away slightly, before trying to enter them vehicle, but that’s when Kenny grabs her arm, says something, and kisses her hand the way a prince from a fairytale would. Whatever he said pacified Bernie, because her expression morphs into something so soft that Marjorine could hardly believe it. She didn’t know Bernadette Kaplan was capable of making such a face.

Seemingly from nowhere, Marjorine feels a sharp pain od hurt in her chest. It turns into something dull and aching. It comes from time to time, though Marj has no idea what the cause is.

Kenny and Bernie haven’t been dating long. A month at most. Personally, Marjorine saw it coming from a mile away. Kenny—handsome soccer star bounded for the league. She of the glossy blond hair, regal face, and astounding proportions—Bernadette. Their relationship seemed as sure as the sun would rise. Marj wasn’t sure how serious they were with each other, but sometimes Bernie looked at Kenny as if she really liked him. The him that went past his looks. The Kenny that sings songs at the top of his chest even though he knows he’s got the lyrics wrong. Kenny who occasionally forgets to eat and needed the reminder to do so. Kenny who Marjorine loves and trusted from the bottom of her heart.

With a parting kiss, Bernie enters the BMW. As soon as it speeds off into the distance, Kenny turned and began walking back. Marjorine watched him closely until she jolted when Kenny suddenly looked up and met her eyes. Yikes. It’s almost scary how aware of his surroundings Kenny was.

They gave each other a wave. A minute later, the front door opens and in came Kenny.

“There she is.” Kenny opened his arms wide and Marjorine practically jumped into them. He squeezed her tight, face in her neck, before scooting back and letting his eyes slide down her body. “Is this the dress we rock-paper-scissors on?”

It’s a game they play when they couldn’t decide on something. After going back and forth on this dress, Kenny ultimately won and Marj bought it. “Sure is!”

“Give me a twirl, let me see.” Kenny spins her around as Marj giggled. “Oh yeah, you’re—that’s gorgeous. See? Floral and you is a lethal combo.”

Marjorine adored how the skirt was flowy and long. Kenny liked the small daisy prints of the fabric. When she showed it off to Creed (albeit without him asking), he told her she dressed like Becky. Marjorine didn’t know who that was until he broke it to her that she was his late-grandma.

“Aw, shucks. Thank ya, Ken.” Blushing from Kenny’s compliments will probably be something Marjorine will do for the rest of her life. He gives it out to her like candy, so you’d think she’d be immune to it by now—but no. It still makes her shy every time.

He winks. “Only being truthful.”

Her heart that was aching before soothed over as if Kenny had placed a healing balm on it. Marj couldn’t remember why it ever began hurting. If it even hurt at all.

“So what’s up? I thought you were supposed to be with Creed tonight.” Though Kenny said that with a smile, his words came off as gritty and restrained. Marjorine fumbled with the laces of her skirt.

“I was, but…” It was hard to put it into words. Where does she even began?

Sensing her hesitation, Kenny places a reassuring hand flat on her back, steering her towards the kitchen. “Okay, how about this? I make dinner—you haven’t ate since lunch, right? And then you tell me whatever you want to when you’re ready.”

A smile bloomed on her face. “Okay.”

It’s easy to settle into something that could almost be called routine. Kenny is an amazing cook, Marj—not so much unless she had clear instructions, so therefore it was mostly Kenny whipping something up in the kitchen. She’s sitting on the barstool swaying her feet, admiring how skillful Kenny was with a knife. Every food that’s been touched by Kenny was guaranteed to be good.

“Do ya remember how I told you I did research? On the uh…bed stuff?” Marjorine began slowly, trying to find her flow. Kenny stiffened up for half a second before he nods.

“Yeah, because Creed can’t fuck for shit?”

She opened her mouth to maybe defend her boyfriend, but then closed it due to her lack of a rebuttal. It was an established fact at this point. Neither Creed nor Marjorine knew the first thing about the bedroom.

“We tried mouth stuff today.” Marjorine continued quietly, face as hot as the scorching sun. She knew she shouldn’t be embarrassed—It’s Kenny. She could talk about anything with Kenny and he would never judge her for it. And though she knew that to be true, that still doesn’t stop her from fidgeting with her skirt.

“You sucked him off?”

Marjorine nodded. “Yes, and he came!”

“Good job.” Kenny replied with rather tense shoulders. The angle she was sitting at didn’t allow her to see what expression he was making right now. “He ate you out too, right?”

“Well…”

“Well what?” Kenny turned around, holding a spatula high as he stared at her with furrowed eyebrows. “Marj. Don’t tell me that fuck—guy didn’t show you how grateful he was.”

“He did!” Marjorine chewed her bottom lip. “Or at least he tried to.”

A mere second of quiet consideration passes before Kenny deadpanned, “…He didn’t make you cum.”

“Yes…”

Which wasn’t anything new. But it is because it wasn’t anything new that Marjorine and Creed (her more then him, truthfully), started taking the time to learn bedroom stuff. Creed was able to reach his orgasm just fine, it was Marjorine who needed that extra help. It barely came to her when she was playing with her own body, but with Creed, it never.

She’s never once been able to cum with him.

“Jesus.” Kenny runs a hand across his face, shaking it in disbelief. It must be hard for someone like Kenny to comprehend, because if the rumors were true—Kenny had never known bedroom troubles ever. “So what happened in the end? Did he apologize?”

“No, he got..,” Marj recalled Creed’s sour words, feels her mood plummet. “frustrated. He said he didn’t understand why he had to learn when I’m the one who lays there like a d-dead fish.”

There’s a rise of shame that wells up within her from admitting that, because she knew it was true. Apart from the typical blowjob, she didn’t do much else sexually for Creed.

“Did he call you that?” She could hear Kenny walking to her and stopping just in front of her, but Marjorine did not look up. She simply nodded.

Gentle fingers grab her chin, tilting her head up to meet narrowed baby blue eyes. “That asshole called you a dead fish? Like he has any room to talk, bastard can’t even make you come!”

His grip on her on her chin won’t let her look away, so she simply just murmured what she feared all along, “…Maybe it’s me Kenny.”

“Don’t say that.” Kenny said, and now he just looks sad. Marjorine wanted him to understand where she was coming from, though.

“No, maybe it really is. Maybe I’m the—“ Kenny hands move from her face to squeeze her shoulders in assurance, to ground her, maybe.

“Marjorine, baby, it’s not you.” A part of her melt at that nickname. Something Kenny only ever calls her during their vulnerable moments, like he’s trying to tug at her heart strings. It works every time. “I promise you it’s not you. Creed just doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing, and that’s on him.”

She pursed her lips and admits, “But…I can rarely even make myself come.”

Every muscle within Kenny’s body stiffens. “…You can’t?”

It takes everything within Marjorine not to run out the door and die in embarrassment. It’s Kenny, she reminded herself, Kenny would never judge you.

“No, my fingers just don’t reach deep enough, I guess. It’s not…” She trails off, eyes landing on Kenny’s fingers; thick, long, adorned with a couple of silver rings they bought together at the pier because they were so cheap. It was Marjorine’s 18th birthday present to him, and she got to pick out the two of the five rings. “like yours.”

Jaw tight, Kenny swallowed before he asks rather hoarsely, “Are you doing this on purpose?”

“Doin’ what?”

“Okay.” Kenny’s head drops to Marjorine’s shoulder. He takes in a few deep breaths, inhales, before muttering, “It’s still not your fault. It will never be. Don’t blame Creed’s problems on yourself, okay?”

Things seem so much more believable when Kenny says it. The doubt that’s been gnawing away at her self esteem stops, if only for this moment, to let Marjorine breathe in his scent. “…Alright.”

Kenny gives her a smile, tucks her hair behind her ear. “Close your eyes.”

Wordlessly, she does it. She feels Kenny’s presence backtrack, followed by a string of noises that sounded a lot like dishes flashing and drawers opening. Whatever he’s been cooking smells amazing.

“Open them on one, two, three!”

In front of her was a platter of fried rice and an omelet. Marjorine’s mouth stretched wide into a smile. “You remembered.”

“Course’ I did.” Kenny nodded.

Back in South Park, the both of them would go to City Wok purely for the reasons that Marjorine adored their fried rice. And while Kenny wasn’t exactly a fan of anything Tuong Lu Kim made, he would still go with her and sit in the restaurant regardless. Just a week ago, she told him she missed his fried rice and the big, fluffy omelet.

Kenny pulls another bar stool to sit in front of her, focused on her first bite. “How is it?”

“Incredible.” Marjorine hummed. It’s not quite like the one from City Wok, but it’s delicious nonetheless.

“I took a basic recipe and tried to tweak it based off of the times I had it.” Kenny explained. Marjorine giggled.

“You mean all the times ya took a bite out of my plate when you thought I was distracted.”

Holding his hands up as if hes been caught red handed, Kenny amended, “I’ll let you know that the majority was you feeding me.”

A laugh bursted from her, she shook her head. That was true.

Kenny gets up from his seat while Marjorine continues to eat. When he comes back and sits down, it’s with a glass of ice cold water. Thank you, she told him. Kenny simply nodded and then dabbed the side of her mouth with a napkin.

She feels the air shift before he even said anything; a certain unmissable tension.

“…Marj, why do you like that guy? I mean, I know he’s decent looking and in Phi Delt, but how far can that go when he acts like he’s five-years old?” He shot her a coy look.

His wording nearly made her wince. Kenny wasn’t the biggest fan of Creed; had never been even before they officially met. “He opens doors for me and checks up on me. When I look nice, he tells me so.”

“That’s the bare minimum.” Kenny scoffed.

Should she tell him the main reason? Yes. It’s Kenny. “He…He likes me.”

“Okay?”

He doesn’t get it. Marjorine will just have to say it upright. “I like him because he likes me.”

Not only was Creed a vastly talented person who was bound for great things, but he is also the only person who showed interest in Marjorine. He treated her like she was special, not someone to be forgotten or lose in the background.

It takes a while for Kenny to process this. When he does, his eyebrows scrunches up with disbelief as he states, “A ton of guys like you.”

Marj set down her spoon, gives Kenny an unamused ook. “What guys are ya talkin’ about?”

“80% of the male population in South Park!” Kenny exclaimed, throwing his hands to make a point. Marjorine shakes her head and continues eating.

“You’re exaggerating.”

“I’m not. Marjorine, if it wasn’t for me, a hundred dudes would’ve come up to you and asked you out daily.”

“What do you have to do with it?”

Something akin to guilt flits through Kenny’s face, so fast Marjorine barely caught it. “They were afraid of me. Thought we were dating.”

“They did?”

Kenny nodded.

That was perhaps the most unbelievable thing Marjorine had heard all night. No, of all time. Sure strangers thought they were together, but they were strangers. South Park was so tight knit everyone knew each others grandma grandma’s—so they should’ve known better then to ever think someone like Kenny would ever go out with Marjorine of all people.

“Whatever gave them that idea?” She splutters.

“Yeah,” Lips pulled into a thin tight, Kenny was still refusing to meet her eyes. “good question.”

There’s a lull in their conversation. Kenny seemingly now has nothing to say. Marjorine squared her shoulders and prepares to defend her boyfriend, because that is what a good girlfriend would do.

“Creed isn’t always the best, yes. He certainly has his off days. But most of the time, he’s very kind to me. Just last Saturday he introduced me to his friends as his ‘precious.”

It was a special day for them, a good day, so long as Marjorine ignored how he left her standing at the corner for two hours. He claimed he didn’t forget about her, but Marjorine swore she almost see him leave.

Kenny made a face like he just ate something sour. “What is he, fifty? The Granny from Ice Age?”

“I thought it was very sweet.” Marjorine huffed.

Kenny drops his face into his hands. Marjorine knows that whenever he does that, it means he’s nearing his limit. He’s either frustrated and doesn’t know what to do, or he’s upset and doesn’t want anyone to see. Sometimes it could be both, most of the time it is. “I think—I know you could do better. He’s not the guy for you, Marjorine. No way in fucking hell.”

Better, Kenny said it so firmly, as if it was really that simple. But what was better then Creed Mossic, who treated her like a dime in a dozen. Who, despite the fact that he was set to inherit his father’s company, still chose Marjorine—a nobody? Someone their own parents couldn’t love?

“You mean you?" She asked in a way it sounded like a joke, with a hint of a chuckle, but she was picking at her fingernails and pulling at dry skin around her cuticles.

"No," Kenny said, stiffened and poker-faced. "I mean better.”

They fall into silence before Marjorine asked, because apparently they are being utterly open about their relationships now, “What about you and Bernie? Why are you dating her?”

A pause. “She’s fun.”

“Fun? How so?”

“She likes to…party?”

“You don’t sound too sure of that.”

“We’re not talking about me right now.” Kenny waved her off. They’ve been together for so long that Marjorine knows that just means he doesn’t want to answer. “I’m just saying you deserve better then some pencil dick fuck who can’t make you cum and treats you average. Because just average isn’t enough for a girl like you. You deserve world class. Like a prince from those fairytales you like.”

Something warm spreads through Marjorine’s body, from the delight of knowing how well Kenny knew her, to seeing the conviction he held on what Marjorine deserves. Kenny probably expected everyone to treat her like he did; with the utmost care and affection, gentleness but not fragility. Sadly, that wasn’t how the world worked.

“Fairytales ain’t real.” She learned that the hard way.

Kenny almost looked sad. “Maybe not, but that doesn’t mean your life should be an Edgar Allen Poe book.”

“It is not!” Marjorine exclaimed, horrified. “He ain’t as bad as it seems! Besides, I can live with the bad s-sex. I could handle bad sex for as long as I live!”

“You shouldn’t have to.” Kenny said firmly, before he makes a face and adds, “And you’re not spending the rest of your life with this dude. So this is only a temporary problem, but still.

“Ya sound so sure.” Marjorine said. Kenny lips tilt up into something that isn’t quite a smile or a complete frown either.

“That’s because I am.”