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Of the three of them, Kenny proudly admits to being the most demanding for physical contact: An arm casually thrown over either Tweek or Craig’s shoulders (when he can reach, tall fuckers). A determined face plant into one of their chests as he becomes an impromptu human blanket. He knows he’s needy when it comes to physical contact and all the better that he has both Craig and Tweek to indulge in.
Craig has never liked others touching him and while Kenny and Tweek are the exception to this, it’s very clear he prefers to do the touching rather than be touched. Tweek, bless him, is more into cuddling than Craig but unless they are on the verge of sleep there is a time limit before he starts to twitch and squirm from being held in one place for too long. The time limit is about 5 minutes, 24 seconds for “full human blanket” and up to an hour for “casual armrest” if they have a movie going, in case there was any question.
That’s not to say his partners ever deny him physical affection. He has also slowly added to a hoard of creature comforts: weighted blankets, heating pads, electric massagers (that are definitely only used in a respectful, god fearing way. Definitely.) Kenny’s simply aware that if given the chance he would surgically attach himself to both of them and surely there must be some less invasive method of meeting his comfort needs.
This is all brought to the forefront of Kenny’s thoughts on the bus ride home from work when a new advertisement catches his eye. A woman lays on her stomach, face turned to the side with eyes closed, her face a mask of serenity and her torso draped in a luxurious gray duvet. A hand reaches down from the top of the image frozen in the act of massaging her neck and upper back.
It looks like a hug, is the thought that flits across Kenny’s mind and he wonders if that’s what a massage actually feels like. He’s never had one before- at least not by a professional and certainly never one he’s paid for. The idea follows him home and all the way through dinner.
“You’re awfully nng quiet today. Did something happen at work?” Tweek watches him carefully as he helps dry the dishes. Kenny pauses his part of the washing and hums thoughtfully.
“I think…I know what I want for my birthday.”
“Last year you threw a fucking fit when we got you something,” Craig deadpans from the table where he’s portioning leftovers into tupperware for lunch tomorrow.
“We were broke college graduates then. Saving up for the deposit so we could move in together was my fucking present!” Everyday with you is a present, thank you very fucking much.
“Bullshit. You just feel guilty when people give you gifts.”
Kenny can only chuckle and shrug in response because Craig isn’t wrong. In the past, he never liked what he viewed as receiving charity, and he could never reciprocate birthday and Christmas presents so he usually tried to refuse them from others.
“But if there is something you want, you know we ack want to make you happy,” Tweek smiles shyly, placing a hand over Kenny’s.
“I want a massage.”
Craig lets out a snort.
“Fuck, if you want a happy ending you don’t need to ask for that as a birthday present.”
“Oh sweetie I know I don’t need to wait for that ,” Kenny purrs at Craig, stretching against the counter and biting his lip with hooded eyes that put a blush on Craig’s face and earns a choked sound from somewhere behind him. He smirks, “But nooooo I mean a professional massage. Like at a spa. I wanna be pampered.”
“Fuck yeah we can do that for your birthday day! Did you have a nng place in mind?”
It is at this moment Kenny realizes he never wrote down the name of the spa on the bus advertisement. Not that this is a problem with Tweek’s uncanny search (stalker???) capabilities- he’s able to find a full spread of locations and services. And then, somewhere along the planning process, Kenny is mutanied off his own idea as Craig and Tweek look through the options. They become tight-lipped about any and all details of their plans and as the day of Kenny’s birthday approaches, he catches his two partners having more and more whispered discussions that are cut off the moment they realize he’s noticed.
-=-
Their plan to keep this a surprise is a resounding success, because when Craig pulls into the valet loop of a super swanky building Kenny’s certain they're both very lost. He rolls his window down and leans out to get a better look.
“Babe, what-” Craig’s hand grabs Kenny’s jaw and turns him to lean in for a lingering kiss. He licks coyly at the other’s lower lip and Kenny gasps, allowing a tongue to map a path across his own. He moans and a blush flushes down his neck and chest because god he loves when Craig takes control like this.
“Your session starts in 15 minutes,” Craig starts, smirking at Kenny’s dazed silence, “and we got you the 90 minute session. Tweek should be available to pick you up when you’re ready.”
“Ah…uh huh.”
“Any questions?”
“Yeah. How much more do ya think we need to pay to let you come into my room once it’s over?”
Craig huffs a small laugh and pushes Kenny away by the face and he completely misses the strange look creeping across his lover’s features.
“Get inside dumbass, we’ll hold up the line.”
Kenny snorts a laugh, swats away the other’s hand, and steps out of the car, “Fuck, I’m going, I’m going….and Craig?”
Craig raises an eyebrow as Kenny leans against the doorframe, a shy look spreading over his features.
“This is the best fucking present ever. I love you.”
A pause, “That’s gay.”
Kenny fondly returns Craig’s signature gesture as he drives off, then turns back to the entrance.
-=-
The front lobby, clad in sleek marble tile and wood finishes leaves him feeling severely underdressed for the venue. He hopes Craig and Tweek didn’t spend too much on this place.
"Welcome! Can I get the name on the reservation please?"
“Kenny McCormick,” he feels a bit of surprised relief as the receptionist returns his casually flirtatious smile. It helps to break through the nerves the look of the place had built up.
“Ah, the 90 minute session. And it looks like you’ll be having two massage therapists today.”
“Oh? I mean - oh, yes.” This is going to be one of those gifts that covers birthday and Christmas and Valentines Day and-
He pauses his thoughts long enough to be guided to the locker rooms and provided with slippers and a robe to change into. The robe is the comfiest fucking thing he’s ever put on, with a plush inner lining and a weighty smooth exterior that cloaks him in luxurious warmth. If the massage is shitty, I'll at least steal this robe to make up for it.
He steps into the slippers and tucks everything else away into his locker. Except his wallet which, as nice as this place looks, he still shoves into one of the robe pockets. Eighteen years of parents who dug cash out of even the most fervent hiding places don't let him quite trust the electronic locks on these things.
Kenny steps into a comfortably dim waiting room where calming music drifts through the quiet atmosphere. In spite of a full parking lot outside, he’s the only customer to be seen. In some ways, it’s nice, but he also has this weird feeling he can’t quite place. Before he can think too hard about it, a woman in tidy black scrubs peaks her head into the waiting room.
“Kenny? Your room is ready,” she says, leading him into a smaller room that smells faintly of eucalyptus, “Do you have any…problem areas you want your therapists to focus on?”
“Uh, I’m sure my whole upper back is tight as a rock,” Kenny replies with a chuckle.
The woman waits expectantly.
“I think that’s it? This is my first massage.”
“Oh,” and she pats his shoulder with a knowing smile, “Well I’ll let your therapists know. Please feel free to hang your robe on the wall warmer and then get under the covers with your face in the head rest. The therapists will knock before they come in.”
Kenny does his best to shrug off the small alarm bells going off in his head because hey, he’s never had a professional massage before, maybe being friendly and flirtatious is part of the job description. So once the door is closed he strips off the robe and slippers and climbs onto the massage table as instructed. The duvet cover is slightly weighted and in spite of his nerves he quickly finds himself dozing off when the therapists finally knock on the door.
“Come in,” he murmurs, and the door opens quietly as the two massage therapists enter.
Nothing is said as a heavy, comforting hand lands on his shoulder and the top section of the blanket is carefully turned down to expose him from shoulder to hips. The second masseuse rifles through something on the counter along one wall and the smell of eucalyptus grows stronger. There’s a pause, then a warm liquid sensation spreads across his upper back.
The same heavy hands as before smooth through the oil and firmly down the center of Kenny’s back. The pressure is deep but evenly spread across the broad hands, keeping the initial touch from being too overwhelming. The hands move up over his shoulders and down again over his flanks. Kenny sighs and he can’t help but relax into the touch.
A second pair of hands, slimmer than the other, gently picks up Kenny’s left arm. Thin fingers find purchase along the flow of muscle in his upper arm, moving in cycles all the way down to his wrist. Thumbs press across the pads on his hands and the therapist gently stretches and manipulates the wrist and each finger. Kenny can't restrain a hum of appreciation between the targeted ministrations and the soothing drag and pull across his back.
A whispered exchange occurs too quickly for him to follow and the slender hands move around to his right arm. A strong grip kneads along the back of his neck and for some reason Kenny flashes to the way Craig likes to grip his neck to keep him in place for a kiss, or to suck his-
Kenny outright moans and pushes that train of thought away. Now is definitely not the time to think about that. The first therapist pauses before repeating the work on Kenny's neck and he tries to focus solely on the relief to his muscles and keeping his breath calm.
Mercifully the hand moves from his neck to push into the meat between his shoulder blades. The therapist immediately finds the knots there and switches to using knuckles to work along and around them. Kenny can't stop another small sound from the mixture of relief and pain.
"Is the pressure alright," the first therapist whispers, and when Kenny manages a noise of confirmation, "Good."
Something about the deep, velvety response sends another spark of heat straight to his dick and he's too delirious to wonder why the voice is not only hot but familiar.
While the knots in his back and shoulders are determinedly coaxed from his muscles he's faintly aware of his arms being tucked under the warmth of the blanket once again. Colder air ghosts over his legs as the bottom corner of the blanket is folded back to his upper thigh and oh my god his foot is TICKLISH. The second therapist flinches away from the half-hearted kick and chokes off a sound.
"Sorry,” Kenny manages to slur.
There's a comforting pat on the back of his calf and hands skip directly to Kenny’s ankle. The hands knead soothingly into the tendons around the ankle bones before sweeping up and down along the calf muscles. The fingers on his back dig into a particularly bad spot as the second therapist switches legs and Kenny pants through the painful pleasure.
It doesn't help the hands on his legs keep moving up and under the blanket to grip into his hips in a way that leaves him reeling. Before he realizes what he’s doing, Kenny unconsciously shifts the leg to bend outward for better access. His dick twitches in interest and he wonders if the therapists will be okay with him just...not turning over. A thumb teases just beneath the line of the blanket to press along his inner thigh and there's no fucking way a random therapist would touch him like that.
"What-" Kenny's attempt to push off the bed is halted by large hands that roughly hold him down. One of those hands slides, scorching hot along his back and Kenny chokes on a sound as it presses into the sensitive area where the base of his spine meets his ass.
"We're not done here," comes the commanding voice and realization snaps into place.
"...Craig!?" What the fuck.
Tweek lets out a reedy giggle from behind as he continues to sooth over Kenny's leg muscles. A cap popping breaks the remaining tension, "Just nng lie back and relax babe."
"You fuckers are so- nnn..." he trails off with a moan as Tweek reaches the rest of the way under the covers to grasp his butt cheeks with oil slick hands. He can't talk, not with how Craig is working mercilessly into the base of his neck and Tweek is digging into muscles he didn't know his ass had. At the very least, it no longer matters how loud he is, and Kenny wastes no time in responding loudly, if not coherently, to his lovers' work.
"Happy birthday Ken," Tweek suddenly whispers into Kenny’s ear as he steps away to grab something from the far shelf. Kenny is instructed to lift and a thin cylindrical pillow is placed under his hips.
Tweek smooths his hands up his lover’s thighs and over his ass. Kenny groans into the head cushion and spreads his legs as far as the small table will let him. Craig makes an approving sound in the back of his throat and moves up to Kenny's neck and head where he'd gotten such a strong reaction earlier, grasping at the tousled sandy locks.
"Ahh...hah!" Kenny's hips buck back instinctively at the slick finger massaging gently at the tight ring of his entrance. As the finger slips all the way into the third knuckle, Kenny's glad he doesn't have to beg for the touch because he can barely remember to breathe. Sensing the distress, Craig's hands return to the gentle push and pull across Kenny's back, planting a kiss on the back of his head.
Tweek keeps his movements shallow until Kenny adjusts, then starts lazily dragging his piano slender finger in and out of his lover's ass. Circular motions pull deliciously on the outer ring of muscle.
"Well, I think there were still some knots to get out," and Kenny lets out a cry as Craig kneads back into his shoulder blades at the same time Tweek slips in a second finger.
"Mmm do you l-like being massaged from both ends babe?" Kenny tries to say “god fuck yes” but he's not sure it gets across. It doesn't help that on top of all this his dick rubs sinfully against the cushion propping his hips up every time he chases the press and curl of Tweek’s fingers and he's very aware of the wet spot growing on the sheets.
Eventually Tweek's fingers curl with perfect timing and Kenny sobs with a full body twitch. He whines as the fingers slide out of him, but they return a moment later with more lube and a third digit. Tweek massages through the tight flesh and over the bundle of nerves again and again until his lover is gripping the sides of the table for more purchase to push back wantonly onto his hand, whimpering out encouragement with each hot spark that shakes through his body.
"Yes babe you feel sogoodplease-PLEASE!"
Craig's hand clamps over the same spot on his neck and Tweek strokes furiously over that single point of pleasure. Kenny screams as pulse after pulse of pleasure is drawn out of him by his lovers’ hands.
When the world clears again he’s on his back and Craig has pulled him to the bottom of the massage table. He unzips and pushes his pants down just far enough to free his cock then grabs Tweek by the waist to pull him in for a sloppy kiss. Tweek returns the favor by pumping over Craig’s length with extra lube. Kenny can’t get his legs around Craig’s waist fast enough.
“Aah... Craig yess,” Kenny’s groan breaks into a hiss as his lover bottoms out in one fluid thrust. His back arcs, pulled taught like a bow, and he reaches blindly above him for Tweek.
“Hah…ahh! Come’ere baby,” he slurs and there’s the sound of pants being unzipped and dropped to the floor. Tweek carefully climbs onto the massage table, folded legs splayed so Kenny’s head can rest between. Kenny grabs for the other’s slender dick and allows Craig’s thrust to push the first few inches into his upturned mouth.
“F-fuck,” Tweek takes his partner’s head in his hands to better line himself up and begins thrusting shallowly, the other gripping his forearms to help keep the angle.
For a few minutes, Kenny loses himself in the movement. In digging his heels into Craig’s back until his lover grabs and spreads him by the knees to deliver quick, snapping thrusts directly along his prostate. In moaning with each shudder until Tweek’s hitting the back of his throat every time. Then Craig’s hand is fisting over Kenny’s dick and the pressure building to his second orgasm snaps as ropes of cum splash across his stomach and chest. Tweek curses and presses deep to the back of Kenny’s throat and he can feel the hot liquid of his lover’s release. Craig pulls out and pumps into his own hand until he cums with a groan, his seed mixing with the mess on Kenny’s stomach.
Kenny lays at the edge of the massage table, floating in a cloud of hazy bliss. As he’s able to catch his breath, Tweek and Craig approach the table again with warm damp towels and help the sandy blonde wipe down. They help him back into the robe and guide him back to the locker room where, under the warmth of a large shower head Kenny folds himself completely into Tweek’s embrace, eyes closed and head resting in the crook of his shoulder.
Craig plants kisses along the back of his neck and shoulder, “So…was that a happy enough ending for you?”
“Don’t fucking ruin the moment,” Kenny mumbles, but smiles against Tweek’s shoulder, “I think you ruined all normal massage parlors for me.”
It does. Kenny learns this after scheduling a, ahem, NON-sexy massage (because he really did just want to be pampered and try out a sauna at least once), and discovers the single experience has introduced a strong pavlovian response in him. Which is fine because the other place isn’t actually horribly expensive and, to his delight, actually gives intimate massage lessons that he employs in enthusiastic revenge on his two lovers.
Funny enough, they don’t seem to mind at all.