Chapter Text
Monday mornings were the worst, Craig had decided it once and for all. With a sigh he finished climbing the front steps and shoved open the squeaking metal door, revealing the hallways filled with his idiotic brain dead peers. It wasn’t a surprise after three years of high school and eighteen years spent growing up in this shitty town to see nothing but the same god damn faces wherever he turned, but still he stared it all down with a mixture of indifference and deep, deep set frustration nonetheless.
The urge to flip off anyone who so much as looked at him was strong but he shoved it aside, in the interest of just getting to his locker and getting this day over with. Normally he’d love to stare down idiots like Butters Stotch until the stupid blonde asshole had the good sense to look away, but today just wasn’t one of those days.
He wasn’t sure which of them was luckier, as the money-hungry blonde shoved his way past Craig on the way to his class. But Craig also supposed it just didn’t really matter.
What did matter was the step that nearly had Craig faceplanting not five seconds later, as he tripped over a backpack that had been dropped much too far away from its owner’s locker, the strap catching on his ankle.
“What the fuck ?” Craig demanded, only to turn and have every ounce of his anger die on the spot.
Crouching low to the ground, a cup of coffee in one hand and an open textbook in the other, was Tweek Tweak, the one and only person who Craig avoided like the goddamn plague.
“Uh,” Craig stammered, realizing that could only be Tweek’s bag so carelessly discarded in the middle of the hall.
“Hm?” Tweek hummed before looking up and catching eyes with Craig, which immediately led to his bright green eyes widening into saucers. “Oh! hmm hey Craig-”
“Hey, Tweek,” Craig replied, trying not to choke on his heartbeat flaring up from his chest. “I tripped on your shit.”
“Sounds nngh like fun,” Tweek laughed nervously, setting down the textbook. “Was it a good trip?”
“Uh, is that supposed to be a joke?” Craig asked, gripping his backpack straps so tight he must’ve looked like an absolute nerd, or a weirdo. Or both.
“Right, I forget you’re boring,” Tweek replied, taking a sip of coffee. “Well, sorry about my bag. Kick it to me, will you?”
“Uh, yeah, okay,” Craig answered, kicking the bag to the blonde, who smiled as he inspected its condition. “Looks pretty okay for being stepped on by a bunch of teenagers.”
“You think?” Tweek asked, grinning as he leaned it against the locker. “Well, see you later, Craig.”
Craig nodded, already stepping away. “Yeah, see you.”
God, Craig thought as he continued his trek down the hall, why did Tweek have to be so stupid beautiful that it fucking hurt ?
“Hey, Craig!” a new, and frustrated voice called, which the noirette immediately tried to ignore, for a multitude of reasons. “Craig!”
Oh, for crying out loud. “What? What do you want, Broflovski?” Craig demanded as Kyle appeared, shoving Eric Cartman aside, the brunette munching on a donut and a breakfast burrito, to meet Craig where he stood.
“You’re partnering with me again in science this year, right?” Kyle demanded, and Craig hated that his brain immediately took the time to hope Tweek might actually partner with him in their typically shared science class this year.
“Uh, probably? Why?” Craig asked. “Cartman and Stan not good enough this year?”
“Not compared to you,” Kyle grumbled. “You’re the best at science in our grade.”
“Wouldn’t want anyone but the best, would you, Jew?” Cartman laughed from behind them, and Craig resisted the urge to punch him in the face. Not that he usually needed a reason to bust up Eric Cartman’s complexion, but hearing his fucked up cackle was good enough this morning, apparently.
“Shut up, fatass,” Kyle scolded him, his ears turning red. Craig wondered, not for the first time, if they were fucking. Then he realized he didn’t care. “I’m just trying to make sure I get a good grade.”
“That’s right, you little overachiever,” Cartman cooed. “You go chase those A’s babe.”
“Don’t call me that!” Kyle shouted, catching more students’ attention than Craig was comfortable with.
“And that’s my cue to leave,” Craig sighed, walking away. “I’m not interested in your foreplay.”
“So, is that a yes?!” Kyle called after him, only to pull more laughter from Cartman as Craig refused to answer.
God, was everyone going to make Craig want to kill himself today?
His question wasn’t exactly denied by the immediate sighting of Clyde as soon as Craig reached his locker.
“Craig!” Clyde cried excitedly, throwing his arms around Craig in what could only be considered the gayest hug Craig had ever gotten from his best friend. Which, surprisingly, was not the first time the brunette had pulled off something worthy of that title, and also not the first time in public either. “I’m so glad you’re here!”
“You’re touching me,” Craig groaned, trying to push Clyde off of him. “Stop touching me.”
“But dude!” Clyde whined. “I’m excited to see you.”
“At school?” Craig questioned. “That place I often show up to, every weekday for many many months of the year?”
“You know what I mean,” Clyde laughed, finally peeling himself off of Craig’s body. “It’s good you’re here.”
Right, because Clyde totally wasn’t expecting to see him here- was something up? “What did you do?” Craig demanded, suddenly suspicious.
“It’s not important,” Clyde said dismissively. “What is important is you being here.”
“Where the fuck else would I be?!” Craig groaned, shoving Clyde aside to get into his locker.
“I wouldn’t do that!” Clyde cried, as Craig snapped the lock open, ignoring his friend before Clyde could actually stop him from opening the locker.
Which…unfortunately, turned out to be a big mistake.
Out tumbled the very much deceased body of Kenny McCormick, who looked as if he’d been frozen overnight into a popsicle. He hit the floor with something more akin to a shattering than a flop, which was a sound Craig could have gone his entire life without hearing.
“You didn’t let me finish,” Clyde mumbled as Craig turned to him, stunned and looking for answers.
“Oh, you were going to get to this?” Craig demanded loudly, as the students gasped in shock, the presence of their dead classmate registering in their brains. “Because you had all the time in the world!”
Clyde burst into tears before Craig could even finish his sentence. “It’s been a rough morning,” he sobbed.
What Craig wouldn’t do for a pack of cigarettes and a quality therapist.
“ Sheet, Tucker, you really needed to let it out,” Christophe DeLorne whistled, smiling and casually tucking himself back into his pants forty minutes later before pulling out a cigarette and leaning against the bathroom stall door. It wasn’t one of his proudest moments, but Craig had finally caved to texting him for a hookup while police searched through his locker for evidence of the noirette as a potential murder suspect. And it wasn’t like he hadn’t tried to resist, but being traumatized like that had really done something to Craig’s mind.
It just wasn’t fair.
“ Please ,” Craig grinned, taking a cigarette from the brunette. “You needed the release just as much as I did.”
Christophe laughed and nodded before bringing the cigarette back to his lips. “Alright, you got me. And as far as getting a good fuck…what can I say, you always seem to have ze energy. Eet’s usually worth flunking a math test or two for you.”
“Yeah, well,” Craig shrugged, “for what it’s worth, you’re the best deal I’ve ever had for casual sex too. It’s a good look on us.”
“Glad to hear we agree,” Christophe said with a nod. “But don’t get eet twisted, Tucker. As usual zis stays just between us. I won’t ruin your perfect virgin image for ze spaz, and you don’t speak a word to my boyfriend when you see him in science zis afternoon, understood?”
“Crystal clear,” Craig confirmed, grateful some things didn’t have to change. “Now pass me another fucking cigarette.”
The rest of the day after his hookup in the abandoned bathroom was nothing short of boring, with the exception of the moment that Craig busted out laughing in math class. But hey, it wasn’t his fault that that moment was the moment realization hit that he could probably off himself right then and there in the middle of class and no one would give a shit.
Not his fault at all.
As Craig was walking down the hallway at the end of the day, knowing Clyde had been texting him all day alternating between crying emojis over Kenny’s death and promises of having a bro to bro conversation about senior year, he was surprised to find that he actually wasn’t looking forward to going home like he thought he would be. And no, it had nothing to do with Clyde, though his persistence had been more annoying than usual today. No, Craig thought about it for a moment and decided he supposed it was just some melancholy emotions over the passing of time, and how no matter what he did to try and keep his life intact, things always seemed to be changing on him.
Case in point was walking out the front doors to find a huddle of students gathered around a couple of fighters that Craig figured he must be hallucinating to see.
On one side was Eric Cartman, whose back was to a very angry looking Kyle Broflovski, the brunette’s sort-of boyfriend, and Craig’s new science partner, unfortunately. Beside Kyle was his best friend Stan, who Craig hated with every fiber of his being, but tolerated as best as he could. He was always willing to be…somewhat charitable after all.
And on the other side, all alone, was Tweek Tweak, looking infuriated enough for a small army. He was shaking in place, and his growls were loud enough for Craig to hear from a distance.
“What are you, a freak?” Cartman demanded, and Craig felt his fists ball at his sides. “Why won’t you stop growling?”
“I’m grrrr tired of you pissing me the fuck off, Cartman!” Tweek shouted. “You stole my coffee tumbler and I want it back!“
“You own a million of them!” Cartman shouted back. “And I needed something to transport the rest of my gravy!”
“It’s a coffee tumbler you dumbass!” Tweek shrieked, catching Craig’s eyes and shaking his head once, before launching himself at the brunette and tackling him to the ground. “It’s not made for fucking gravy !”
“Glad I’m not the only one saying that,” Kyle groaned.
“You got him by the balls, Eric!” Butters shouted, as Tweek physically grabbed Cartman’s shirt and pulled him up before shoving him back down to the ground, using the brunette’s own weight for assistance.
“Holy shi,t dude!” Stan shouted as Kyle looked on in pure anger. “Kyle, do something!”
“Don’t fucking think about it,” Craig snapped, as Tweek continued landing blows on Cartman’s body, the brunette grunting beneath him. “Anyone touches Tweek and they’ll have to deal with me .”
The blonde didn’t hear him, or if he did he didn’t say a word, but Craig stood there protectively regardless. Anyone could see that Tweek wasn’t large enough to take on more than one person in a fight; it wasn’t even an attempt to be insulting, just a fact. So what did it matter if Craig stalled getting home for a few more minutes just to see if Tweek would win his fight?
It wasn’t like there was anywhere else Craig would rather be.
When the fight finally did disperse, it was because Kyle had finally had enough, and grabbed Cartman to get him to his feet while the brunette rattled off about how he totally gave it to Tweek.
“Yeah, yeah,” Kyle snapped hauling him off with Stan on the brunette’s other side, “just shut up and walk.”
Wiping Cartman’s blood from his face, Tweek got to his feet and turned to find Craig still standing there staring at him, the last one to leave the area. “Shows hmm over,” the blonde snapped, before grabbing his backpack and storming away, ears so red Craig really wasn’t sure what to make of him.
Left in the dust, Craig’s brain decided now would be a really good time to get excited about how Tweek had talked to him twice today, a new record for the school year so far.
Yeah, he was so totally fucked.
With nothing left to do Craig finally trudged on home. As he pushed the front door open, he could instantly smell whatever dinner his mom was in the process of making. Silently, Craig headed for the stairs, climbing them as fast as he could without making too much noise to attract attention. It was a delicate balancing act but he pulled it off.
“Hey, Stripe,” Craig greeted his guinea pig with a smile, taking care to refresh the guinea pig’s food and water before collapsing on his bed, which welcomed him like he’d never left it that morning.
“Craig!” a voice called from just outside his window, combining with a knocking sound that startled Craig enough to send him tumbling off the bed and down onto the floor. “Craig, I know you’re in there!”
“Clyde?!” Craig demanded, getting to his feet and storming over to the window to find his friend perched on the rooftop, waving at him excitedly. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“Hanging out, dude!” Clyde exclaimed, gesturing for Craig to back up before swinging into the noirette’s bedroom through the now-open window. “I wanted to spend some time with you!”
“Why,” Craig demanded, more a statement than a question. “You know my mom’s rules.”
“I also know your mom hasn’t been fucked in weeks because she’s so uptight all the time, and that I’m not her son. So don’t expect me to try and follow her rules,” Clyde laughed. “Got any tacos?”
“No!” Craig cried, flopping onto his bed. “Why did you come over here, for real?”
“Ugh, fine,” Clyde replied, flopping down beside Craig. “There’s a party tonight and I was wondering if you wanted to go-”
“Absolutely not,” Craig interrupted. “I have so many more ways I’d rather spend my time-”
“I doubt that,” Clyde replied. “Besides, I heard Tweek will be there.”
There was a painfully long moment where Craig could have sworn the room was ten degrees hotter, but he quickly realized it was probably just his brain overworking itself. “But it’s a school night,” Craig protested, weakly.
“That’s the worst excuse ever,” Clyde pleaded. “Besides, I need this. Especially without Kenny-”
“Oh god,” Craig sighed, not even wanting to relive a moment of whatever the fuck had gone on earlier today, “okay fine.”
“Really?” Clyde asked, like he couldn’t believe it.”
“Yeah,” Craig replied. “But you better not enjoy this!”
“Oh I wouldn’t dream of it,” Clyde lied with a grin.
Groaning, Craig got up and went over to his closet to change. Clyde watched him with curiosity from the noirette’s bed, but said nothing.
Ever since Clyde had admitted to Craig that he was gay, there’d been an element of their friendship that had changed. It wasn’t like either of them meant for it to happen, it just…did.
And while Craig knew he couldn’t look at Clyde the way he looked at Tweek, he also knew Clyde couldn’t really look at him the way he looked at Kenny.
But that didn’t exactly stop them from exploring their mutual curiosity.
“Hey, uh, Craig,” Clyde asked in a voice that didn’t sound to either of them like his own, “you…look good, today.”
Craig glanced down at his naked torso, pants still hanging on his hips. Then he risked a look at Clyde, who was staring at him with a hunger that was different from his bottomless stomach, and honestly Craig didn’t really mind it.
“Yeah?” he asked, walking over so he was standing in front of Clyde, the brunette still seated on the bed. “You think so?”
Tentatively, Clyde raised a hand to Craig’s chest, before trailing it painfully slowly down his stomach and finally to his hips, before sliding into the noirette’s pants.
Carefully, like if he moved too fast the moment might be ruined, Craig unbuttoned his pants, so Clyde had an eye level view of the slight bulge in his underwear, which Clyde tentatively placed an experimental hand on and groped at Craig while the noirette stared down at his friend with a slight hunger of his own.
“Scooch back,” Craig ordered, before kicking off his pants entirely and going over to lock his door. With privacy intact, he returned to Clyde and straddled the brunette, so he could lean down and kiss him, which was returned with more enthusiasm than Craig had expected.
“Why do you do this to me?” Clyde asked, like Craig was something entirely forbidden to him.
And in a way, he was.
“It doesn’t have to mean anything,” Craig reminded him, like he always did. “All you have to do is feel good.”
“But what about how I feel later?” Clyde asked, seeming a little lost.
“Save that feeling for the next time,” Craig whispered, before kissing Clyde again, hungrily. “And then you’ll never really be without me.”
“If only it was that simple,” Clyde murmured between kisses, and though his words set off an unfamiliar ache in the noirette’s heart, he knew he couldn’t give Clyde whatever it was that he was really asking for.
It just wasn’t possible.
“Come on,” Craig said a while later after they’d both gotten off stroking each other to their peak and had gotten redressed, “if we don’t go to this fucking party now, I’m not going at all.”
“Fine fine fine,” Clyde grumbled, gesturing to the window he came in through. “After you, princess Craig.”
Neither of them commented on how wrong that statement sounded.