Chapter Text
Stan knew how important it was to have a nice, quiet place to brood in peace.
Whenever Craig was in a bad mood, it rarely showed on his face, least of all in his voice. But if you knew what to look out for, it was as obvious as day. He would walk in a certain way, start staring at the walls with a certain intensity, and his words would become especially curt and unforgiving.
During history class, he’d been called out by their teacher for ‘having an attitude’. Which was a little bizarre, because Craig ‘had an attitude’ most of the time. But today, for no real discernible reason other than Craig being in a particularly bad mood, the teacher had decided that he had transgressed far enough to warrant being called out in front of the whole class. When he kept quiet, she sent him out of the classroom. In Stan’s opinion, she was just taking out her anger on him because of her messy divorce.
Next period was recess. Stan went up to him after class.
“She’s such a bitch. You alright?”
“Fan-fucking-tastic,” he deadpanned. “What do you want, Marsh?”
Stan wasn’t going to expect Craig to be friendly when he was already in such a mood. “Just checking on you. What’s going on?”
“Hate everything. But it’s whatever. Going to eat my stupid lunch and get through my stupid classes.”
“It’s real bad, huh.” Stan had days like that. No matter how many times he went through it, it still sucked. “Hey, if you want, we can talk about it.”
“Don’t feel like it.” While Stan thought it over, Craig continued, “but thanks.”
“We could just sit somewhere else for a bit. If you want.”
“It’s lunch. Everywhere is fucking crowded with people.”
“Not everywhere. Come on, I’ll show you a good spot.”
There were many enjoyers of alone time, and some of them had claimed their spots ahead of time. It was a type of prized real estate that was getting rarer and rarer to acquire. At this point it was more of a race to see who got to the spot first, and places that were a little less desirable tended to stay empty for longer.
Stan’s favorite spot was outdoors and a little further away from the rest of the crowd, though the journey was a little troublesome, if not mildly hazardous. There was a raised platform a shoulder’s height above ground floor, but the drop was slightly steeper. Nothing life threatening, but would certainly cause most people’s heart rate to spike. He had to do a tiny bit of parkour to get to it, but with Craig’s long legs he could get to it no problem.
Stan was confident enough to climb up with a moderately loaded food tray in hand. Craig was more hesitant, setting the food on the platform before going up.
“Not the most comfortable place to hang, I know. But that’s what makes it so good.”
Craig was inclined to agree. If he wanted comfortable, he would have just had his lunch indoors.
For a while, they really did just sit and eat in silence. There was nothing special about this. Eating alone would have been virtually the same thing. Eating with his usual group of friends would have been similar; they would have just talked among themselves. Craig usually wasn’t expected to join the conversation, especially if they knew he was in a bad mood.
Even then, sitting and eating in peace while he watched and listened to the rest of the school move around them was… nice.
He looked at Stan, who looked back at him. Craig knew Stan probably wouldn’t throw a fit if Craig didn’t speak a word to him the whole time. Still, he thought that Stan might take it personally if he literally said nothing. He sighed. He did kind of want to get it off his chest.
“I’m pretty sure my sister went into my room and messed with my shit. I couldn’t find my pen and I know I put it exactly where I always put it. I told her to give it back, she screamed that she didn’t take it, we argued, I got yelled at because I shouldn’t be making a ruckus in the morning over a pen I ‘misplaced’. Fuck off. I don’t misplace shit like that.”
Stan sipped at his juice pack. “Huh. Yeah, you don’t.”
“See, even you know that. Why don’t my parents know that? They’ve supposedly known me all my life.” He sighed again. “Then, I told Tweek about the whole thing. I think it set off his paranoia.”
“Aw, man. I mean, if something mysteriously goes missing…”
“He didn’t think I ‘misplaced’ it either. But then he began worrying about stalkers and government spies, and I was just… so done. I just walked away.”
“Were you mad at him?”
“I really wasn’t in the mood to deal with his problems.” Craig sighed. “I was annoyed. I guess that made me angrier.”
“Oh. You got angry that you got annoyed?”
“At myself. Because I shouldn’t be the one walking away from him. I’m his boyfriend.”
“Well, yeah, but you’re already mad. What else could you have done?”
“I don’t know. Not walk away?” But Stan had a point. What would that achieve but worsen his mood? “I know this whole thing is stupid.”
“It’s not that stupid. I mean, it kind of is.” Stan looked away. “It usually is. But things are never as simple as we’d like them to be.”
Craig was vaguely aware that Stan had said something afterwards, but he had already stopped listening. Not from lack of interest — Craig would have already looked away if that were the case.
It was the first time he noticed how long Stan’s eyelashes were.
Stan looked back at him. “I’m sure you’ll be fine. You know how to handle these things.” He went back to looking ahead at the rest of school, at the other students milling in and out. “Maybe you don’t need me saying that, but it’s true.”
“Thanks,” said Craig.
Stan smiled.
Craig normally didn’t view Stan’s side profile this up close. But it wouldn’t be hard to tell from even twice their current distance; his lashes were dark, like the rest of his hair. Stan blinked, and for a moment, it looked like he was wearing those false lashes that some of the girls always wore. How had he only just noticed this? It was so obvious, and it jumped out so loudly to him now that he had to look away.
He figured he had never noticed because Stan had always blended into the football team so well, even more so because he was their quarterback, and it helped him ignore anything that didn’t seem to fit on him. The softness of his boyish features, the clarity of his thoughts from time to time, and the surprisingly gentle way he laughed.
The time ticked away. They went back to return their trays, and Craig went to his next class feeling a little strange.
Craig had always thought Stan was an asshole. He wondered why everyone saw Craig as the asshole when Stan could be too, perhaps even more so. But he realized early on that there were levels to assholery, and Stan had never reached the depths, not even close.
He began to realize later just how thin the skim was on the surface. The more he saw, the more he knew, because it was way too familiar. Stan cared about how others thought of him and acted in a way so he wouldn’t get hurt. But inside, he was just a huge dork and a big softie.
And Stan went out of his way to talk to him today just to try and make him feel better.
The feeling Craig got was so strange and so uncomfortable that he tucked it away, and now it lived in the miscellaneous pile of paraphernalia in his mind. He swore he would get around to sorting it out later.
Something within their truce suddenly cracked and bent. It sort of just happened one day. Stan smiled hello at him across the hallway, and Craig sort of acknowledged his presence before going back to pretending he didn’t exist.
Craig didn’t think Stan had done anything wrong, per se. He just didn’t like how he felt when he looked at Stan.
It was a fairly new development. Something lurched in his stomach, something like disgust. Craig trusted his gut feeling to a certain extent, so he concluded that there was something untrustworthy about Stan for him to feel this way.
Maybe it was how friendly he was being. Maybe he was just a little too enthusiastic nowadays, thinking Craig was someone he could just charm his way through like he did with the rest of the school. Craig wanted to prove him wrong, that he wasn’t that easy, and Craig was content to ignore his presence entirely.
Time passed. The next time Craig talked to him, Stan was sitting on the steps of the school gymnasium, talking to Kyle with a great big smile. This was how he looked like talking to someone he actually liked.
When Stan looked over at him, a part of him just couldn’t stand it, but he endured.
“Hey, Craig,” said Kyle.
“Hey.”
“Ready to get your ass kicked at gym?” Stan bantered.
“Yeah, whatever.”
He caught a glimpse of Stan’s what-the-fuck face before he walked away and set his stuff beside their other classmates.
He could sense Stan hovering around him for a little while every time he came close to him. He tried to steal his ball and intercept his passes as usual, but there was a mix of worry and frustration emanating from him too. Craig glowered. He pushed past him with a ferocity that exceeded their past skirmishes.
After exerting himself in gym class and washing up, he started to feel a bit better. He also felt a bit bad for Stan. They got to meet again during free period, so Craig thought he’d go talk to him then.
“Hey. What topic did you do for that assignment?”
“Fuck off, Craig.”
Craig was caught off guard. “The fuck? What’s your problem?”
“Sorry. But come on, dude. What’s wrong with you?”
“What do you mean, what’s wrong with me?”
“If it’s something I did, stop being a bitch and just tell me.”
“Ugh, I am not dealing with this right now.”
He walked away. He could practically feel Stan glaring at his back. The mix of frustration and vindication he was feeling was disorienting. It was in the same way alcohol numbed the senses — it sort of did, and it sort of didn’t. He didn’t know this, but in that moment, a part of him realized that this was close to exactly what he needed.
Craig was being an asshole. This should have been nothing new, but this time it really hurt. Maybe because Craig never really blew him off like that before.
He thought something must have happened with him, but he seemed fine with practically everyone else. It was only him that he was avoiding. Like Stan had wronged him somehow. It had calmed down since, but mostly because he stopped talking to Craig.
Stan wasn’t just going to let him treat him like that. He wasn’t just going to take that lying down. But the thought of it did make him sad. He thought they were getting along, hell, he even thought they’d built up a genuine friendship. That it fell through for reasons he wasn’t even privy to made it all feel so futile.
He thought Craig would have liked to know about the topic he wrote on for their English assignment. It was on sci-fi movies, particularly those set in deep space. He would have told him when he asked and he would have asked him back, but he was still freshly pissed off at Craig. Stan had acted out in impatience and, honestly, anger. It made him feel even more unsettled and disgruntled about the whole thing.
“I’ve seen great work from your submissions last week. Now, I did say that you will have a final project and presentation nearing the end of the semester. So, based on the topics you’ve worked on, I will be assigning everyone into groups of two or three.”
Guess who Stan got paired up with.
Craig fucking Tucker.
His eyes widened when their teacher called out their names. He turned over to look at Craig, who seemed equally astounded at the pairing. Having met eyes with him, Craig quickly turned away.
“I’m giving you guys the rest of the period to discuss your project. Remember, written report first, then a class presentation.”
Craig had shoved his things into his bag and walked over to Stan’s table while Stan was still processing what had happened.
“So what topic did you do?” His voice was even more monotone than usual, if that was even possible. It was even harder for Stan to read his mood.
“Sci-fi.”
Craig rolled his eyes. “Of course she thinks it’s related. I did the moon landings.”
“Oh…” Stan turned away. “Figures.”
“So, I’m thinking we use my topic.” His assignment landed on his desk with a light ‘thwack’. “Take a look.”
“You haven’t even looked at my work.” They were supposed to look at each other’s assignments. It was returned to them for that reason, not just to throw it on the table and expect the other to agree.
“I’m just saying I’d rather work on something I’m already interested in.”
“Let me have a look.” Stan flipped through his assignment, sectioned neatly into boxes. He was bombarded with facts, which he expected from descriptions of historical events. But it also briefly showed how the same moon landings were portrayed by different countries and what it reflected about their societies. It was actually pretty well-written.
To his surprise, Craig was looking at his work, and rather seriously, too.
“Not bad. But mine’s more concrete.”
Stan wasn’t expecting him to have anything even mildly nice to say about it. Then again, Craig wasn’t the sort to hold an ultimate vendetta against somebody. It was mostly situational, or at most a general dislike.
Why did Craig dislike him so much?
“Just because my topic is on fiction doesn’t make it any less concrete. Anyway, I like my topic better. But I don’t mind yours, and we’ve got to decide on one anyway.”
“Okay, it’s settled then.”
They quickly went over the sections they were tasked to complete by the end of the week.
“If you leave me to do the whole thing by myself,” Craig warned, “I will make your life miserable. I don’t care how busy you are.”
“Dude, I’m not that busy anymore, we’re off-season. I won’t slack off.”
“Good.”
Stan sighed. In a way, he was happy to no longer be ignored. Maybe it was selfish of him, but there was something precious about Craig’s attention, even if it tended towards the more negative sort, and so he wanted to hoard whatever he could.
He hoped things would go back to normal as soon as possible. He knew it was unlikely, but maybe, being forced to work on the project together might help.
Craig was not happy he was stuck with Stan for the entirety of a full-length project.
He figured it out pretty early on, judging by how brief the assignment was, that they’d be expected to expand on their topics in some sort of written report or presentation. Not that they’d have to group up to complete both. And least of all having to pair up with Stan.
After going through all that effort to avoid him, he thought working with him would be such a drag. But at the same time, a part of him felt relieved. The anger building up inside him felt strangely natural, and the fact that Stan wasn’t all that enthused either was oddly satisfying.
“Your handwriting is trash. I can’t even read this sentence.”
“I was rushing, okay?” He deciphered the sentence for him. “And dude, you can’t just dump all the facts in there and expect it to make sense. You’ve got to organize it or our presentation is bust.”
He squinted. “This is organized.”
“Verbally organize it.”
“This is written down. How do I verbally organize something I’ve written down?”
“That’s not what I meant, dipshit!”
“The fuck do you mean, then?”
“Hey, what’s going on?”
They both looked up. Tolkien and Kyle were approaching them; Craig saw Tweek was a bit further behind, running to catch up to them.
“Working on our project,” said Stan.
“Oh, right. How’s it going?”
Craig flipped through the page. “On the bright side, I guess we made some progress.”
“Why were you two yelling, anyway?”
Stan looked at Tweek. “Your boyfriend is being a huge douchebag right now.”
“What?” He was tattling to Tweek now?
“Craig, what’s going on?”
“I didn’t do anything.”
“Really?” Stan folded his arms. “It’s like you’ve somehow forgotten how to be a team player. It’s making this harder than it has to be.”
“Dude, if you don’t explain things properly, I won’t understand it. I can’t read your mind.”
“Goddamnit, I am trying to explain things properly!”
Tolkien shook his head at them. “Seriously, you guys.”
On the other hand, Tweek and Kyle seemed far less amused.
“What were you guys talking about?” asked Kyle. “Maybe I could help.”
Stan explained the situation. Hearing it a second time, Craig finally understood what he was getting at.
“I get it now. You’re trying to say my sentence structure isn’t clear. But I’m just putting things down that may or may not make the eventual cut. It’s not for an audience.”
“I am your audience, dude! I can’t work with you if I don’t understand what you’re writing it all for.”
“How do you not understand this?” It was a perfectly logical list of events.
“Wow. Sorry I’m not smart enough, I guess.”
“Sure, if that’s what you—”
“The whole point of a discussion is to discuss,” Kyle cut in. “It’s not like everyone has the same internal logic, so something simple like a list might not actually show what it’s supposed to mean. Some things are difficult to understand on paper, so you just have to ask. Come on, you guys.”
Stan and Craig looked at him and blinked. Kyle made too much sense for the both of them.
“Ugh, fine,” said Stan. “You’ve got to explain it to me, then.” Craig begrudgingly admitted that they would have saved the hassle if Craig had just offered to in the first place.
“By the way, Stan,” said Tolkien, “Clyde just left for practice.”
“Shit. What time is it?” He checked his phone. “Crap. Okay, I should go.” He gestured towards Craig. “We can always discuss this tomorrow.”
“Yeah, sure.”
Stan began packing his things at top speed. Tweek sat next to him and looked at him questioningly.
“Maybe Marsh is on his period today,” said Craig.
“Fuck you, I heard that!”
Craig rolled his eyes. When Stan left the room, Tweek jammed his elbow into his waist.
“I thought you guys were past that!” he whisper-yelled.
“Exactly.”
“Don’t ‘exactly’ me, you’re part of the problem!” He groaned and folded his arms. “Whatever, man.”
Craig placed his hand on Tweek’s back to try and soothe him. He didn’t want Tweek to get all worked up about it either, and he certainly wasn’t happy that Stan was causing him all this trouble.
This was going to be a long couple of weeks.
Tweek thought he might be going a little bit insane.
For starters, he was spiraling, he was definitely spiraling. He thought he was being paranoid, knew he was being paranoid, but the small things kept adding up. He felt… he thought maybe… Craig didn’t like him anymore. Which he knew was an insane thing to feel. Craig was always so kind and gentle with him. And Craig wouldn’t bother doing that if he didn’t at least like him a little bit.
No… it wasn’t that Craig didn’t like him. There was something in the way he acted. He thought that maybe, just maybe, he was beginning to pay a lot more attention to Stan as well.
Craig kept looking at Stan across the room. It was with a frown most of the time, or like a cat watching a stranger, but he was still looking.
To Tweek, it was completely understandable why he would. Stan was more attractive, more popular, and not anxious and less mentally ill and just better in what he felt to be every single conceivable way. Every time he thought about it, it was like his whole upper body was going to fall into the pit of his guts.
“Craig,” he started. “Do you find me attractive?”
Hearing this, Craig immediately leaned over to kiss his forehead. “Of course I do, honey. You don’t feel attractive?”
“Well… it’s just, it’s just — there are so many people who are way more attractive than I am and — gah — probably will ever be.”
Craig held his hand. “Tweek, it has never mattered to me how you compare to anyone else. Hell, I don’t even care if you are the most attractive guy in school.”
“Well, I’m not.” He smiled faintly. “You are.”
Craig gave him a wry look. Tweek could tell he mildly disagreed, but didn’t feel it was important enough to bring it up.
“Honey, just try not to worry too much, okay? You’ve always been very attractive to me.” He put a hand on his chest and lowered his voice. “Want me to prove it to you?”
Craig trailed his hand down to his stomach. Tweek sucked in a gasp.
He kissed him. It was the easiest thing in the world, and everything he had ever known. He felt Craig’s hands on his face, then all over his body. He let out a sigh. Craig loved him really well, knew how to ease his tension better than anyone. Sometimes, Craig could even make it all go away, but anxiety rarely let him go so easily.
Tweek curled up and laid his head on his chest, shivering a little, even under the sheets.
“Still anxious, honey?”
“…yeah.”
Craig silently stroked his hair. Tweek tried to do his deep breathing exercises. He was getting much better at those.
“Babe, I’m sorry, but your fingernails are kind of sharp.”
“GAH!” Tweek hadn’t realized he was pushing his nails into his chest. “I’m so sorry!”
“It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it. You can hold my hand.”
Tweek grabbed his hand and focused on that instead. It had been a while since he had gotten so anxious. All the symptoms were flaring up again. Was it the coffee? But he didn’t drink any more than usual. He figured he must have been really, really bothered by the whole thing.
“Do you…” He started, stopping a bit when his eye started twitching. “Do you think Stan is… What I’m trying to say, is that, you know, he’s more…”
The more words he spoke, the sillier the whole thing seemed. He hated how weak his voice sounded.
“Stan? Stan Marsh?”
He couldn’t bring himself to look up at Craig, but he imagined him frowning.
“Why are you comparing yourself to him?”
Tweek knew he didn’t mean it in a bad way, but sometimes the way he said things made his skin crawl.
“It’s just, you’ve been working on that project together and — ack — you know, I just, my mind just goes wild—”
“Shh. I know. It’s okay.”
Tweek felt like he was stranded in deep waters and desperately paddling to shore. He breathed. He had to try.
“But it’s true, isn’t it? Stan is… so much better looking than I am.”
“So what? Who cares what that shit for brains looks like?”
Tweek let out a light scoff. “I’m not telling you to insult him!”
“Fine. But seriously, I don’t find him attractive at all.”
That didn’t sit right with him either. “You don’t have to go that far. He is attractive.”
“Okay, sure. But I really don’t care. Babe, did something happen?”
“What? Did something happen? Oh god!” Wait, Craig was asking him. “Sorry. What did you mean by that?”
“You’ve never been worried about this before. Did that fucker say something to you?”
“What?! No!” Oh god, did he just make things worse? “Oh Jesus, Stan didn’t do anything but exist, and that’s not his fault!”
“Okay, good.” Craig sighed. “Honestly, I’m still mad that I got paired up with him. I didn’t want to work on this goddamn project with anyone else, let alone with him. He keeps saying I’m sarcastic when he’s the one being sarcastic, and he’s always so busy with—”
“Stop that.” He squeezed his hand. “I don’t like it. I don’t… it’s really strange.”
Craig stilled a little. Craig was always careful with him, and Tweek appreciated that, but right now it felt like they were both walking on eggshells.
“What do you want me to do?” he asked, gently.
Tweek curled up even more, burying his head under the duvet.
“I don’t want you to say anything.”
There was a pause, too long a pause for Tweek.
“Okay.”
Craig didn’t know what Tweek wanted from him. He was anxious that Stan existed in his vicinity, but he got angry when Craig showed any disdain towards Stan.
He understood that Tweek was insecure about his looks. Most people were, so there was nothing strange about it. But why out of all times and out of all people did he have to compare himself with Stan fucking Marsh?
“Stop arguing with him. I mean it, Craig. I don’t like it.”
Just because Craig had to spend so much more time with Stan to complete the damn project that took up so much of their final grade—
Was Tweek jealous? Was he jealous he was spending so much time with another guy?
“But there’s nothing I can do about it. I’m stuck with him until the presentation.”
“Are you seriously kidding me right now?”
“Tweek. I really didn’t start this. I can’t do anything if he keeps treating me like I’m—”
Tweek yelled and pulled at his hair. It looked like he was about to tear his hair out. Craig tried to comfort him, but Tweek swatted his hand away.
“For god’s sake, Craig, take responsibility for your own actions!”
“Okay, I’m sorry. I’ll do my best not to react badly.”
Fine. Craig could deal with this. He just had to not mention Stan’s existence in front of him, at least until the presentation was over.
“I promise to spend more time with you after this. I know we haven’t been meeting up much.”
“Yeah…” Tweek scratched at his neck. “I mean, I’ve been busy with schoolwork, too.”
What did strike Craig as strange was that Tweek had never said anything when Craig had to do assignments or projects or club stuff with anyone else. Sure, maybe if they were the gang or random classmates it didn’t matter. But he remembered being paired with Kyle the start of the year.
“Are you worried about this? I know we’re only going to get busier next year. I’ll try my best to make our schedules work, but I don’t want you to feel unwanted.”
“Thanks. I appreciate that.” Tweek frowned slightly. “I think we’ll have to see. We don’t have to see each other all the time, especially when you’re busy.”
That was what he said, but…
Argh. Such topics were so hard to talk about.
“It definitely sounds like Tweek just doesn’t like you talking about Stan.”
With his, Tolkien’s and Jimmy’s heads put together, Craig was hoping he would figure out what was going on.
“That’s really w-weird. He w-wanted you two to get a… to get along.”
“He still does. That’s why he keeps saying he wants me to stop beefing with him.”
“I mean, lowkey, I agree with him. It’s kind of unnecessary, don’t you think?”
Craig sighed. “I know. But it’s not that simple.”
“Yeah, Stan can be a big p-pain in the… he can be a huge dick and he doesn’t even r-realize it sometimes.”
“You usually don’t get that riled up over anything, though.”
Craig threw up his hands. “I don’t know why he pisses me off so badly.”
Something about the way he carried himself, something about his voice or his face. And definitely something incredibly irritating about his personality. He took things too personally, when Craig was just trying to complete the damn project, and expected him to be all cheerful and friendly when Craig couldn’t muster up the enthusiasm. And yet, no one else seemed to understand what Craig got so pissed off about, which pissed him off even more.
“I won’t lie,” said Tolkien carefully, “I think Tweek’s actually jealous of Stan.”
“I don’t think so,” Jimmy disagreed. “Just insecure. Not the same as b… Not the same as being j-jealous.”
“Tweek asked him if he thinks Stan is more attractive than him. Pretty sure that’s jealousy, man.”
“No, h-hear me out. He’s comparing himself to Stan because he thinks he c-can’t match up. If my g-girlfriend was hanging out with a dude who’s more attractive than me, I’d be insecure too.”
“What the fuck,” said Craig. “Are you saying I’m the girlfriend?”
“Yeah, sorry Craig, but it checks out. How is that not jealousy, though?”
“It’s not jealousy b-because it’s not about me wanting what h-he has. More like I’m scared she’d f-fall in love and leave me for him or something.”
“Why the fuck would I ever leave him for that guy?”
“Wait, Craig, before you get angry, we don’t actually know. We’re just guessing here. Like, really straight people guesses. I have no idea how much it applies to you guys.”
Craig slammed down on the armrest. It was a good thing it was padded. “But it fucking makes sense. He thinks so highly of Marsh that he probably thinks I’d care about how attractive he is. I don’t know what I did that would make him think that way.”
“You know what they say. The opposite of love isn’t hate…”
Craig wanted to roll his eyes. Yes, he knew — it was indifference. He could remember a time when he felt indifferent towards Stan, not too long ago, actually. It was before the start of the school year, where they were content to exist vaguely in each other’s periphery. Craig didn’t think he had ever progressed to actually hating Stan. But it was true that it was now very different from what it used to be.
Suddenly, a wave of guilt washed over him.
“I love Tweek,” he said, softly. “I promise I’d never hurt him like that.”
Tolkien placed an arm on his shoulder. He and Jimmy looked at each other.
“Yeah,” said Jimmy. “But maybe he doesn’t n… he doesn’t ne… he wouldn’t know that for sure.”
“Does he not trust me?”
“I’m sure he does, Craig. But you know how Tweek can be. Sometimes the voices get loud. You just have to be louder.”
Tolkien was right. Tweek was having a hard time right now; he needed his support more than ever.
Craig decided that the least he could do was plan something nice for him. They made plans to go out on the weekend, drive out to the city for a change. Exactly where they’d go and what they’d do, Craig kept it as a surprise. He was really looking forward to it.
In the coming week, Craig would slowly grow to admit to himself that Stan was, indeed, physically attractive. This was obvious to pretty much everyone in South Park, and it should have come easily for someone who was very much into the body type that Stan possessed. Sporty, muscular, not too tall — specific, but Craig liked guys who were shorter than him — and had a little bit of fat to them, especially on the glutes.
In all fairness, Craig didn’t have a singular preference on such things, and he didn’t actively keep track. His search history had always been colorful like that.
Of course, good looks alone couldn’t redeem a person. But in hindsight, it probably sounded forced and contrived when he said Stan wasn’t attractive at all.
Not that it mattered now. Would there ever be a good time for him to clarify this? ‘Actually, Tweek, I’ve thought it through, and I really think Stan is hot after all.’ Yeah, no. Even if Tweek asked again, it would be stupid of him to say so. It amounted to nothing, and it would do nothing but hurt Tweek.
This was just one of many things he had to keep to himself so he wouldn’t shoot himself in the foot. Like not pointing out to their physics teacher that he had explained centripetal force in the worst way possible, or that he thought Bebe’s recent trip to the salon had left her with a really bad hairdo. Some things were better left unsaid, for everyone’s sake.
It was a really good weekend.
Craig brought Tweek to the food fair. They had gone before, a couple of years ago when it had been in the city, but more as a pit stop before they headed for a museum tour. This time they stayed for the live performances, which were fine, but part of the fun was watching to see if any of the day drinkers — of which there were several, due to the cheap beer — made any hilarious attempts at dancing.
They sat at the benches with their sliders, fried seafood and lemonade. They talked for hours, interspersed with Craig’s piercing remarks about the weird things people did, boozed and non-boozed, which always brought a reaction out of Tweek. Then they went to the planetarium in the evening, looking at digital displays of the stars and planets together.
At the end of the night, Craig read him a poem he wrote himself. Craig knew he wasn’t very good, but since the final draft passed muster with Tolkien, it was good enough. Tweek laughed when he finished listening, but he seemed to really like it. He fell asleep in the car while Craig drove them home.
The school week ahead seemed so much lighter. For the most part, at least. Craig still groaned at the prospect of homework and exams. But he even found himself having a new font of patience to draw from when it came to working on his projects. Craig could barely remember a time when Stan seemed so reasonable.
And then exams drew closer and closer.
Craig was pretty sure he sprouted a gray hair submitting the English written report a day ago. Trying to get the presentation slides done with Stan was an ordeal and a half. Between the two of them, Stan was better with aesthetics, but he could not memorize a script to save his life.
“Dude, why can’t I just read out from a script? I always do that.”
“You know that affects your grade, right?”
“No it doesn’t.”
“It does. Read the rubrics.”
“Who even reads those things?”
“People who actually care about their grades. I don’t care if that’s how you’ve coasted by, but this is my project too, so.”
Stan groaned. “Why do you care so much about how I do my part of the presentation?”
“Because this is a shared project and a shared fucking grade.” Why their English teacher didn’t put an individual component in the rubrics was beyond him. “Also it looks super unnatural. It’s the day before the presentation and you can’t even remember the words? Are you even taking this seriously?”
“Stop being such an asshole, Tucker.”
“Oh, we’re doing last names now, huh?”
“Fuck you, dude. When have you ever called me by my first name?”
Craig sighed. Day before the presentation, and they were still bitching about what names they called each other. “Whatever. We’ll go through this one more time tomorrow morning. You’d better prepare cue cards or something.”
He pushed past Stan to get to his locker. He was so unbelievably done. Craig hated doing school work as much as anybody, but he had his eyes on the prize — get good grades, actually get into a good course in college, so he could study what he wanted to study. Not like those varsity jocks who thought their popularity and physical prowess could carry them through college and the rest of their lives.
He really didn’t like that Stan was so ridiculously under-prepared, even after Craig had been painstakingly hand-holding him the entire project. Why had he even done that? Did he take pity on Stan? Just because Stan looked like he was trying?
He felt a hand grab at his shoulder. Craig angrily turned around, just as said hand tried to pull him back. It was Stan. Stan actually ran after him, and he looked extremely pissed.
“Dude, I’m not your goddamn punching bag!”
“What the fuck? Since when did I make you my punching bag?”
“Since before we started on this goddamn project. I’ve had it, dude, what the actual fuck is wrong with you? You treat me like shit for no reason, like my feelings don’t even matter. I know you’re stressed but I’m not your fucking stress relief, okay?”
Stan was really angry. It sort of confused Craig, enraged him even. It was like he didn’t even see the effort Craig put into keeping his cool the past two weeks.
“You make it sound like I’m doing it to you on purpose. I’m not. Honestly, I have no fucking idea what’s going on with me sometimes.”
Somehow, that seemed to ease Stan a little. He breathed, “then you should stop taking it out on me.”
Craig sighed. “I think you need to stop taking things so personally.”
“Easy for you to say, asshole. Whether I take it personally or not isn’t your business. Either way, you’ve been really fucking unfair to me.”
“How? How have I been unfair?”
“It’s like… it’s like everything I do pisses you off. It’s like the only way we can talk is when we’re pissed at each other. It’s exhausting. It’s like you don’t even want to be here.”
“I don’t, but that’s just the project. I just want to get this project over with. Once we’re done, I’ll stop being an asshole and get out of your hair.”
That only seemed to make Stan more upset.
“That’s not what I meant. I don’t want you to fuck off, I want us to be okay.” His voice trembled. “I just don’t understand why you hate me.”
It ended with Stan tearing up and wiping his eyes.
Craig was stunned. What was the school’s football captain doing, crying in the hallways over something like this? He never thought Stan would actually cry. It irritated him as much as it made his heart lurch.
“Dude, I don’t hate you…”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his favorite mop of blonde hair approaching him. Craig smiled at him, though he hoped he wasn’t coming over. This would be the worst possible time for him to come over. However, Tweek seemed to have sensed his distress, and honed into his signal.
“Hey, you two.”
“Hey, Tweek.” Stan wiped his eyes a final time before heading off.
Tweek hadn’t been here for the tears, but it didn’t take a lot to put two and two together. He looked at Craig. Apparently, he didn’t like the look on his face, because his expression only got darker.
“I didn’t even…” Craig stopped himself. He had said it so many times that it surely sounded like an excuse by now. “I was trying to talk to him. It didn’t go well. He thinks I hate him.”
Tweek let out the sigh of a century. “Well. At least you know now. I told you, didn’t I? Told you to stop, because you’ll end up hurting people’s feelings.”
“Well, yeah but,” he fidgeted with his bag strap. “I just want him to get the stuff done so he doesn’t drag down my grade.”
Tweek rolled his eyes. “Ugh. Do you even care that much with your other projects? There’s one for physics, right?”
“It’s not the same. It’s straightforward, everyone knows what they have to do.”
“Yeah, well, not everything can be straightforward, can it? Honestly, fuck the project. If you can’t even be nice when you’re working together, what’s the point? You’re going to have to learn to be nice to people you don’t like, or you’re going to end up dying a great big social death, and you don’t want that, do you?”
Tweek had a point. There was one thing that he couldn’t escape if he wanted any semblance of a life — people skills. And it wasn’t that Stan was trying to slack off. Craig could see that he was trying. Maybe he didn’t deserve the harsh treatment.
“You’re right. I’m sorry. I know I can be really stupid.”
“It’s okay, we all are sometimes. I’m glad you see where I’m coming from.”
Tweek seemed relieved. But Craig could hear the disappointment in his voice, too. It wasn’t just Craig’s patience being worn thin by school and life. Craig knew he was going to have to be better.
He just didn’t know why it seemed so difficult for him.
They finished the presentation.
Stan seemed a little shaky at first, but it wasn’t too bad in the end.
“Hey,” said Craig. “We did a good job.”
He offered a fist bump as peace offering. Stan looked up at him hesitantly. Eventually, his expression eased, and he knocked his fist gently against his.
Craig thought about that interaction a little too much.
Tweek was still upset at Craig.
He thought that Craig’s recent attempts at being nicer to Stan would help, but when he really thought about it, it didn’t help at all.
He knew Craig could be really dense when it came to accidentally pissing people off, so that was one thing. Tweek had to be patient with him on this. But he also had a strange feeling that there was something else to it when it came to Stan. He thought that maybe, just maybe, Craig being so mean to him was some veiled attempt at bidding for his attention.
Which he knew was a stretch. Maybe he just didn’t like him fighting with other guys. Yeah, that was his and Craig’s thing. It was how they first became friends.
At first, fighting Craig was something he thought he had to do, as a young, impressionable kid. But beating up and getting beaten up by Craig had marked him in his memory, and he suspected the same happened to Craig. They didn’t know they were gay, but as with such things, sometimes society was the first one to figure it out.
Though the whole journey had been chaotic from start to finish, and it had been way more public than either of them would have liked, it had bloomed into something worth mentioning.
Since then, they’d been together, through thick and thin. Sure, they might have broken up once or twice, but that was in the first few years of the relationship. It was always Tweek and Craig. They were serious about each other, they loved each other.
But what the hell did they know about love, anyway? They were just teenagers trying their best to figure it out. And it was the first time Tweek had to think about someone else coming along, someone Craig might want to be with instead.
A part of Tweek wanted to talk to him about it, but a part of him would rather die on the spot. Also, he sort of already knew it was going to be pointless. Going by their latest conversation, Craig would just shut it down. And knowing him, he wouldn’t even be doing it to lie. Even if Craig did like Stan, Craig wouldn’t know. Hell, he’d probably be the last one to find out.
He knew Craig was doing everything he could for him. He couldn’t even get mad for him for that. But it still upset him to think about him and Stan butting heads, and it also upset him to think about them getting along. Tweek wanted Craig to stop talking to Stan entirely, but — but that was definitely going to cause even more problems!
“Tweek? You okay, man?”
Tweek jolted at his voice. “Oh god,” he blurted out at Stan — god, why was he here? He picked at his hands as he tried to figure out what to say.
“Hey, it’s okay. I’ve got some water here if you’d like some.”
Stan liked to offer water whenever he saw Tweek freaking out. And it did help. Stan was too nice. Of course Craig would like him better.
“AHHH! You’re not making this any better! Just leave me alone!”
That shocked Stan. He retreated a step, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion. He seemed pretty offended, too.
“Dude, the fuck’s been going on with everyone? Did I do something wrong?”
“Gah — I’m sorry, Stan!” He didn’t want to do what he’d just been telling Craig not to do. “I’m just really, ack, I’ve just been in a horrible mood lately, and I’m really mad right now.”
“Oh, shit.” Stan softened his gaze. “What happened?”
Tweek found himself unable to explain exactly why he was so mad. A part of him was mad at Stan, but Stan didn’t do anything wrong. It was his stupid boyfriend, not him.
“It’s — it’s hard to explain. I’ve been kind of stressed, and kind of angry just in general, and like everything’s falling apart and going to shit.”
“Oh man.” He looked around. “Where’s Craig? I can help find him.”
“DON’T!” He shocked even himself with that outburst. “Sorry. I just… I don’t want to bother him right now.”
Stan suddenly gave him a look of epiphany, which made him want to scream. You don’t fucking know anything, he thought, stop looking like you do!
“I think we’ve all been stressed out of our minds. The fact that it’s exam season doesn’t help either. Hang in there, Tweek. Let’s all hang out somewhere after exams, it’ll be fun!”
Tweek was shaking violently on the spot. He could barely speak, in a forced, nervous tone, “I think I need some time alone right now.”
Stan nodded. He gave him a pat on the shoulder before leaving, which only made Tweek shake even more.