Kyle was officially at his limit. Sheila had told him someone was staying with them and gave him a week to figure it out since any inquiries went into a waste basket somewhere in the back of her cranium. Not that she was forgetting them or anything, but it was almost like she was being intentionally ominous, all she really gave him was a first name. Now he was sitting on the floor in the basement, or he guessed it was the new kids bedroom until further notice, watching him unpack boxes of items mailed to them over the past month. Kyle was supposed to be helping but burning lasers into M/n's back with his eyes was infinitely more preoccupying.
Worst part was he was definitely familiar. He just couldn't recall ever being buddies with some pretty, effeminate, gender ambiguous guy in the past. Now he felt kind of like an asshole for not knowing, it was tearing him apart inside. Would it be awkward to ask now? He wondered.
Probably but the words fell from his lips before his brain had realized.
"I can't take it anymore, dude, who the hell are you?" When M/n looked up at him with his brows furrowed he turned a cherry red from the embarrassment. He definitely could have worded that better. He verbally tripped over himself to try and explain, sputtering and blubbering like a fish out of water, meanwhile m/n rummaged through a different box. Pulling out stacks and stacks of photos. Some Polaroids, some printed, some professionally taken. Finally he found what he was rummaging for at the bottom of the box. Two photos, one a Polaroid the other a group photo.
The group photo was looked at first and it made Kyle feel tingly, goosebumps running down his arms even though it was a simple picture of him and the guys back when they still played that fantasy game in elementary. M/n's manicured finger pointed at someone particular in the photo. Before Kyle could really react the second photo was placed on top of the first. This one made him recoil a bit as realization hit him. It was an old photograph of him, kinky red hair falling from the silver cap trying to contain his ten year old fro'. The stained orange and blue kite taped to his back blocked most of the background but in the corner underneath him, clear as day, was the farting vigilante.
"... Doucebag?"
M/n, who was peering at the photos from over his shoulder, grinned and nodded. Surprisingly still un-phased by the bad nickname. During their closeness Kyle managed to make out a few post-pubescent features. Defined jawline and neck aside, not much changed. He still looked just as tired, he was just as worn down now as he was as a child. It didn't sit well with him, Southpark was horrible to newcomers so he could only imagine what the rest of the world had put him through.
"No way." Kyle looked at the photos and back at him as he crawled back in between the boxes. "But... why?" He watched M/n nervously draw his bottom lip between his teeth and instead of pursuing an answer he shook his head. Not like he thought he'd get one anyways, butthole never talked. "Not important, I have way too much to catch you up on."
For the next couple hours he talked while M/n organized his room, occasionally getting off his ass to help pop a drawer into a place or fold laundry, he was mostly useless but his company was well received. It wasn't like he was rambling on and on, it was just a one sided conversation. He'd pause occasionally between sentences and wait for a response he knew wasn't coming, then after a minute he'd pick back up. It was partially mindless chatter while he scrolled through social media on his phone. M/n didn't mind too much, he gossiped but there wasn't any surviving Southpark without staying in the loop. Kyle's sweet tooth for drama sort of reminded him of his mother but he didn't dare admit that out loud. Instead he nodded and his lips would purse slightly everytime he tuned back into the conversation.
Inevitably the amount of boxes dwindled down to just three, all filled with posters and funky knickknacks, and M/n felt accomplished enough to join Kyle on his bed. Kyle continued to blabber on and on. It didn't sound like a lot had changed but I guess M/n would have to see it to believe it. He wondered how Clyde had been doing, if Tweek and Craig were still dating, if Jimmy still went to physical therapy. Of course he wondered about Stan's group, and the girls, and the goths, and butters too. He's been wondering since the name "Sheila Brovloski," popped up in casual conversation a few months back.
While he wondered, Kyle piped down as he read a text thread from his home screen and sat up to reply, his lanky fingers typing furiously for just a moment. He glanced over to M/n assuming he was either nodding off or looking up at the ceiling just to make awkward eye contact. As much as he wanted to go back to being pals, and as easy as that felt like it could be considering m/n hadn't changed a bit, he still couldn't help but feel like he was rambling off to or sitting on the bed of a total stranger.
Stifling the feeling, he didn't want to distance himself from someone living under the same roof as him, he even more awkwardly avoided eye contact and stood a little abruptly. "C'mon dude, the guys are meeting at tacobell for lunch." His palm stung a little as it met M/n's, his fingers flexing as he tugged him up onto his feet. "Let's go get food and re-introduce you. Cartman's gonna lose it."
M/n was sure of it. They left without saying much to Sheila or Gerald, and the couple didn't seem too offended. Either they were too preoccupied reading or they were giving M/n space but it didn't matter, M/n still appreciated it. Kyle's green house inevitably disappeared as they walked farther down the slush covered sidewalk towards mainstreet. This was probably the best visibility you'd get up in the mountains. Little fog and no snowfall. The ominous early 2000's video game ambiance the town had was probably what M/n missed least after moving. Even that crazy butt scientist held a closer spot in his heart compared to Southpark fog.
"I can't believe it's been seven years." Kyle spoke out loud, their arms occasionally brushing against each other as they walked. "You know... Butters cried after you left," M/n smiled a little at the thought and Kyle caught the twitch in his lips from his peripheral. "For a week, I mean more than a few of us were torn up about it but I think Butters took it the hardest." M/n wanted to laugh at the idea of any of them crying as he left but Butters was certainly in character.
"Clyde cried too, which made Tweek cry. Firkle, that little goth kid, he started crying so the whole goth group left I guess to save him the reputation." In short distance to them the tacobell had finally come into view, and as they walked through the glass doors M/n looked at Kyle while opening his mouth to speak only to be cut off by Cartman. He shouted something, mostly unintelligible over everyone else in the building but it was enough to get M/n and Kyle's attention.
Kyle dragged him over by his forearm and before he could begin to explain Cartman had already started.
"This your new boyfriend?" Cartman elicited a giggle from Kenny. M/n's attention was split between the two, focusing on their differences in comparison to the last time he saw them. Most noticeable was Kenny, he had stopped wearing his iconic parka in place for an oversized stained orange hoodie. He guessed he never bothered replacing it with an exact copy after growing out of it.
"No fatass, it's M/n." Kyle already seemed mildly agitated.
"And M/n is..." Stan chimed and Cartman nodded, still persistently munching on the bag of chips he got from... somewhere. They weren't even a tacobell menu item, where did he get those?
"Right, we're supposed to know him because?" Cartman sarcastically pressed for more of an explanation.
"He's the kid that joined Kupa Keep back in elementary!" That didn't ring anyones bells except for Kenny's. He seemed to recognize him once Kyle mentioned The Stick of Truth. "Doucebag! The one that played superheroes with us!"
"Butthole?" Stan asked, and Kyle nodded furiously.
"Oh joy," Cartman tried to start again but it was shut down when Kenny stood up and grabbed M/n's jacket sleeve.
"No fucking way! I knew he looked familiar." Kenny happily looked him over.
"Yes way! He's staying with my family for a while."
"Why?" Stan asked, scooting over to make room in the semi circle shaped booth.
"I don't know, my parents never told me."
"I wouldn't get too touchy Ken. We don't know where Buttlords been." Cartman had interjected but that didn't stop Kenny from being touchy.
"Shut up fatass, everyone knows that was just something you wrote for your shitty fanfiction."
"Oh yeah? If that were true why did everyone else call him butthole?"
"Because that's what you introduced him as!"
Kenny had let go of his sleeve just to squish his cheeks in one hand and press their faces together, cooing at Stan. His shaggy blonde mullet intertwining with M/n's own locks. "Look how much he's grown."
"Stop manhandling him." Stan sighed, even though M/n looked pretty unbothered he felt like he should say something. He let him go after mocking Stan, letting M/n sit down and scoot into the booth next to the ravenette.
They smiled at each other while Kyle and Cartman argued over something. "Nice to have you back, butt boy." It earned him a glare. As he laughed the two cooled their jets and Kyle finally had the chance to sit down. Kenny let him take his seat at the table and in a circle they each handed him some cash and told him what they wanted, inevitably landing back on M/n who had been skipped over under the assumption that he wasn't going to order.
They all blinked owlishly, first at M/n and then at each other.
"What do I do?" Kenny asked.
"God it's like ordering for a fucking child." Cartman huffed, ignoring him while managing to ask as if he were panicking Kenny reiterated himself.
"What do I get him?"
"I don't know," Kyle answered, thinking about it. "A soft taco?"
M/n looked at them like they were stupid, they were but that's not important, he fished through his back pocket pulling out a crisp five and sliding it towards Kenny. "I'd like a crunch wrap... please."
They all stared at him and he felt like he was being scrutinized. Shrinking into his seat as his fingers began to fidget amongst themselves he looked everywhere but the four who were silently composing themselves. Speech therapy can go a long way for some people, and although it never really cured his selective mutism since that isn't how that works, it still made noticeable progress. He'd still get choked up, suffer verbal paralysis, but at least now he could construct sentences. It took years, from third grade to his freshman year of highschool, but he managed and now he could reap his rewards. Which meant he could finally order his own food and answer the phone.
"Dude— you can talk?!" Kyle finally cut any tension with the sound of his voice, glancing at Kenny as he slowly took the bill from the table.
M/n looked back up at them and nodded, his fingers still intermingled.
"Since when?" Stan asked, and M/n only responded with a shrug. He was being honest, he really couldn't pinpoint the date. As Cartman scoffed Kenny walked off towards the front of the fast food joint, to order and to process everything at his own pace.
"Seems like you still don't talk much." Stan chuckled.
"Shocker–"
"Shut up fatass." Kyle cut him off.
"Fuck off Jew, you can't silence me."
"I can try."
"If you could, why'd you never talk back then?" Stan unintentionally interrupted them by trying to continue the conversation at hand, watching as M/n shrugged again.
"I told Cartman my name."
Stan and Kyle glared in Cartmans direction while he looked off to the side awkwardly, still shoveling chips into his mouth. Kenny reappeared with bags of food in his hands, surveying the scene with a disappointed look on his face. He made eye contact with M/n and his brows furrowed further, like he was begging for an explanation. All M/n managed to do was chuckle silently as he buried his face into his hands, huffing as he recuperated. He wouldn't admit it yet, or ever really, but this is what he missed the most after leaving.