Through the Cracks

Bud held his breath and listened to the dial tone. His finger hovered over the 9 and 1 buttons. With a frustrated sigh, he put the phone down. Playing through his story, he knew it was a lost cause. "What am I gonna say? 'Yes, officer. I was babysitting my nephew when some kid in a mask and cape broke in and took him.' They'd lock me up just for saying it." Not even to himself would he admit his real worry, that upon finding Butters, the true purpose of his 'babysitting' would become easily apparent. Bite marks on the boy's neck, pinch marks on his body, injuries to his private areas. After the time spent grooming his catamite, he was not about to let himself be taken down because of some kid in a costume.

He looked out the window. No sign of either child anywhere, not so much as a footprint in the snow. "There's no way they're still up on that roof." The wind was howling and the temperature dropping. "I'll take my chances with Stephen and Linda. I can tell them he ran away… or that a caped kid came and took him. They'll still take my word over his." Confident in his freedom from blame, Bud flung himself down onto the bed and turned on the TV. He felt a little pleased knowing that Butters would no doubt be punished; he even wanted to dole out some punishment of his own after having been left so unsatisfied.

"Maybe he'll turn up on his own. In the meantime, I can think of some fun things for him to do." For one, Bud determined not to waste any time getting to the main event when his next opportunity arose. He flipped through channels, but nothing caught his interest. Nothing would until the nagging desire was resolved. Sure, there were dozens of cable channels dedicated to adult entertainment, but naturally, the Stotches barricaded them with security codes. Not that anything on TV could compete with the struggling, soft blonde boy he had pinned down less than an hour before.

Bud's ears buzzed with frustration. In the midst of the noise, he heard a mewling sound, soft at first, but growing louder. It was coming from the outside, beyond the door. A child. "Hello? Is anybody there?" cried the voice.

"Butters?" Bud wondered. "I knew he'd come crawling back." He rose, and ventured into the hall. Instead of Butters, Bud saw a heavyset boy holding a stuffed frog. The boy wandered nervously in the darkened hall, threatening to pop his thumb into his mouth. Upon seeing Bud, he startled and clung tighter to the frog. "Kid, what are you doing here?" By now, Bud was wondering how many more kids would show up unannounced before the Stotches returned. It was getting to be too much of a good thing.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I was looking for Butters." The boy looked this way and that. His breathing quickened. "My... mahmmy... dropped... me... off... to play with Butters, and I can't... find... him!" he wailed.

Bud knelt down. Opportunity was knocking. "Hey, little guy, c'mere. It's okay. What's your name?"

"E-Eric," stammered the boy, waddling into Bud's arms. His lip quivered and his hands twisted. But his eyes were bone dry.

"Well, you can call me Uncle Bud. Butters is... not here right now, but whaddaya say we watch TV for a while? I've got some ice cream and... candy. You don't look like you're any stranger to ice cream and candy!" he teased, pinching at Cartman's sides.

Cartman put on his sweetest smile, the Emmy-winning kind. "Really? That would be super kewl," he gushed, wiping drops of nothing from his eyes.

"Sit tight and make yourself at home," Bud soothed. "I'll be right back with that ice cream."

Cartman changed channels until he came to Terrance and Phillip. He propped his loyal friend up beside him on the guest bed. "Infiltration is complete, Clyde Frog. We are now moving into Phase II."

Two bowls of ice cream later, Cartman licked his lips, his fingers, and his spoon. "Mmmmm."

"Wow, Eric, you really packed that away!" Bud gave Cartman a congratulatory pat on the back, which morphed into an arm snaking around Cartman's shoulders. "Those clothes must be feeling pretty tight right about now. Want to jump out of them and get comfy?" Inwardly, Bud scolded himself for being too eager, but when he saw his new, young companion move to comply, he brushed his concerns aside. Look at this kid's face. He has no idea what to think. I bet his "mahmmy" keeps him even more sheltered than Butters.

Cartman made his eyes pitifully wide. "Okay. I think that would make me feel better." He stood and began to unbutton his coat. Slowly. Carefully. He folded his coat and laid it on the dresser.

Bud pretended he was interested in Terrence and Phillip's airport security sketch, but it was the boy undressing in his periphery that had his full attention. So different from Butters. His arms were pudgy and dimpled, his chest accented by soft breasts. Not as cute as Butters, but he'll do. He's like a moving, breathing Lettuce Ranch doll. Cartman unbuttoned his pants. Both he and Bud held their breath in anticipation as he let them drop. Bud shed layers of inhibition when the twinkling of pink glitter and rhinestones caught his eye. He took in Cartman's appearance head on. Part of him felt like questioning, part of him felt like snickering, but the vulnerable pout on the boy's face urged him to contain it. That, and the tantalizing outline of Cartman's little bulge. "Feeling better, kiddo?"

"Yes. So much better. It's not easy being so buff all the time." Cartman turned and climbed onto the bed, making sure Bud had every opportunity to see him from this angle. Come and get it. I'm ready for you. Sure enough, Bud turned off the TV and slithered onto the bed. He got close enough for the skin of their bodies to touch. With one hand, he stroked Cartman's neatly parted hair. The other crossed over Cartman's body to play with the stretchy strap of the thong. Acting coy, Cartman slipped his own hand under the strap. His hand explored for a few seconds before releasing the pink material with a snap. All Bud could see in this gesture was a little boy being playful. He did not see that Cartman now had something in his hand, or rather, would not allow himself to see. The sparkles from the thong must have affected his eyesight.

Bud spoke again. "I have an idea. We should play a game. How would you like that?"

"Okay," Cartman answered. Meekly, he added, "Me and Butters were going to play Lord of the Rings."

Bud's eyes lit up. "Oh yeah? I would love to play Lord of the Rings with you. It's too bad Butters isn't here to join in." His salacious tone carried meaning that was meant only for himself. But Cartman understood completely.