Unforgettable

 

His life was officially fucked up, and in a lack of finding something to blame instead of facing the truth, he threw all the guilt on the hotbox they had the night before.

That morning, Tweek was just spazzing up and being himself; shaking, repeating some letters and occasionally words, frowning/pouting, making coffee… Yelling at him was new, though, specially shouting some pretty heavy shit on him. If Craig wasn’t the coldblooded, emotionless person he is, he’d be crying and sobbing and feeling pretty much the worst being that still breathed in the whole planet. The blondie knew how to insult people, regardless of his innocent looks and faces and all of his paranoia and obsession in spending nights awake waiting for gnomes to go into his room so he could try and successfully hunt them down if not too scared or clumsy to do so. If someone ever decided to fuck him up, he’d fight back, naturally.

Back to the previous evening, Kenny had announced them an inauguration party was being held in the big, festive house of South Park’s newest neighbor who had just moved in, everyone in the town was invited, and it wasn’t as far away from the Tucker’s household than the boys thought. Since Kenny had bought some fine pot that week, the four friends wondered: why not? They’ve done it thousands of times anyway, and have never been caught. No way they were getting caught now, so the trio really had nothing to lose.

Tweek was never really included into the quartet anymore ever since they started to have their ways with marijuana and alcohol, so he was pretty much replaced by Kenny in these situations. The boy was too paranoid to hang out with them when drugs were around. He looked forward to avoid them in those cases, and even if he would be dragged into hotboxing, in a couple of hours, he was nowhere to be found, and everyone was too high to notice.

About three hours before the party starts, Craig had moved to sprawled lay on the back seat of his car after picking up Kenny, who drove them to pick up the remaining boys. They had talked the spazz into doing it, and ten minutes later, there they were, laughing at each other, sitting in the back seat of the car, listening to Jimmy Hendrix while sharing the reefer joint. Only this time, it was Token who was driving them around instead. (They would switch every now and then, so he could have some, as well.)

By the time they parked to let the smoke out of the car, Tweek had coughed so much he swore if he had coughed some more, it’d be blood for sure. He’d dodged Clyde’s foot, which was certainly going to hit his head (the brunette was being tickled by the emotionless bastard, until cry and beg for mercy and get another drag of the weed, remaining laid on his friend’s lap, laughing occasionally), had ditched Kenny off, because, really, Kenny’s turned on by almost anything, and especially when he’s high, and Craig was too high to even notice. They had almost died in a car crash thrice just in that evening, in a result of Token’s great driving skills, and his heart was beating faster than Flesh running from one side of his bathtub, to the other. He was almost sure this was the day he’d get an express, VIP pass to Heaven.

A shirtless, spaceman Craig was fighting against a shirtless, knight Token and a shirtless, pirate Clyde, and winning. One of the blondes was finishing off the reefer, while the other was trying to make his way out of this without being followed by a very disappointed spaceman, who would seduce him into staying and even possibly playing shirtless with them. So he’d have to plan through this well. Very, very well. Meticulously correct and perfect timed.

He’d wait for Kenny to get naked and go play with them, so when they were all very distracted, he’d sprint back to his house without looking back, and nobody would ever need to know. He could have never even been there, if played it right the next day. No one would doubt him.

When the right amount of strength, enough self-steam and courage had hit the boy, when he was about to jump to his feet and run away for dear life, a very strong someone held onto his arm and brought him up, to his very tall eye level, looking into his soul with those piercing, frozen blue, beautiful, perfect eyes he’d always have a thing for. That anyone would always have a thing for. Breathless and ashamed, he continued to hypnotized look into those eyes as words echoed in and out, through his head as if it was in another language. The closeness held between them, the fact that Craig Fucking Tucker was fucking shirtless and he could feel his breath on his skin, and their lips brushing with the words that rolled out of the black haired’s mouth making his head go insane, he nodded, agreeing with whatever the spaceman was saying.

The loud music blasting in his ears, people dancing like sluts and eating their faces off right beside him, no matter where the fuck he would try to hide, smuggled drugs and every single person in there drunk as fuck, gave Tweek a hint that the owner of this property was single, besides being a millionaire, so he’s probably fucking ugly. But those are so one of the many, many thoughts that ran through his mind that night, as he was forced to watch his friends talk more nonsense to each other, and just laugh their asses off because one person tripped, for example. (Yeah, their sense of humor is very specific when they’re high.)

He made his way through the crowd, finding a relatively quiet place to sit down and just wait for his so claimed “friends” run out of energy and/or get bored from the party, or just really want to go home, so he’d have a ride. Anything was better than walking the entire city, at night, taking risks such as giving rapists numerous chances to kidnap him, or murderers to also kidnap him, or aliens to, once again, kidnap him, or angry lost dogs to rip his insides out or gnomes to steal his underwear in the middle of the night, giving rapists even more reasons to kidnap and rape him. Resuming, shit go down.

But waiting out of his friends’ sight didn’t mean they couldn’t be seen by him, and Craig was smart enough to know that, even if high on pot.

Everyone knew Craig had something for Clyde, and Clyde had something for Craig. Some called it “hidden crush” or “mistake” or “one time thing”, most called it boner, and some even called it “dirty little secret”, but they all knew something was going on between them ever since they were fourteen, ever since, in one of Bebe’s party, they made out with each other. Some girls cried, some found it beautiful, and most guys were indifferent, either because they didn’t care, or because they played for the other team, too, but without no one knowing. Out of everyone, Kenny and Token knew it was because they had just had their first try on pot, and the side effects made those two shockingly hormonal; it was only natural they would get it on with each other, and so it begun. Every time they would get high on pot, those two would end up making out in the car, or doing it in the bathroom, or find an excuse just to touch each other, which didn’t please Tweek. At all.

At the time, Craig wasn’t more than a guilty crush of the blonde (besides friend), and that’s why he didn’t stop walking with the guys, regardless of his obvious thoughts about hotboxing and drugs in general.

He’s not annoying or anything, so the guys didn’t kick him out, either.

But that day when curiosity took over Tweek and he just had to ask the indifferent, black haired, most perfect semi-god, reason of his tolerance of (and by now death, too, by) drugs, what the hell was going on between Clyde and him, even if the answer would hurt, he had to know, and was glad that was replied with: “… That stupidfuck? He’s only good for fucking, I found out.” It made things actually a little possible for Tweek, in Tweek’s mind.

His dream came true, tough, one day while in a school trip, when they were exploring the sea on a very large boat. It was night, and everyone was in their room (they were divided in groups of four, Tweek being stuck with Kyle, Cartman and Kenny, and Craig with Stan, Clyde and Bebe). The redhead and the fatfuck couldn’t spend one second without yelling at each other, and the blonde couldn’t stop scaring him by shouting “LOOK OUT, A GNOME!” very convincingly, he must admit it, and every single second.

It was all a living hell already, now by the time Stan sneaked in the room and gave Kyle a surprise hug from behind was when the situation turned unbearable. Cartman nearly exploded, yelling so loud in anger he wasn’t able to speak the next day, making the redhead tease him even more, by kissing and nibbling at Stan’s neck and lips, only leaving the gaze from Stan’s deep blue eyes, to glance and smirk at his arch-enemy for a second, with half-closed and dazed eyes, making sure he was watching them.

The raven, on the other hand, feeling very uncomfortable by the fact that three people were watching them, kept a worried look on his face, with his hands gripping on Kyle’s shoulders every time he’d get a new hickey on his neck (and occasionally let little sounds escape his throat) and Kyle’s hands snaked up his shirt, the fingertips softly running past his stomach and around his nipples, giving him chills and making amounts of blood run to two specific places in his body. His eyes partially closed, and his bottom lip squeezed in between his teeth as his breathe quickened.

All Tweek knew from there, after he left running with his face on fire, was that Cartman stormed out, blabbering nonsense and swearing through the hallway, down to the front of the boat, while he shyly walked to the back. Kenny probably wanted to fuck them both so bad he attempted to approach them somehow, just to be shoved and locked out of the room by Kyle, so went bother Butters instead.

Once he was leaning on the backboard of the boat, watching the waves and the reflex of the stars and the moon on the water, trying in vain to unsee what he had just seen, Tweek didn’t even notice an arm around his shoulder, bringing him close to warm human contact. He hadn’t noticed he was shivering from the cold air because he’d sprinted away so fast he’d forgotten his jacket, and even his hatred and abomination towards touching and any type of contact had a weakness at this moment, because it was Craig’s arm that was around his shoulders, Craig’s chest that was softly against his cheek, Craig’s scent that was all over him, Craig’s chin that was laying comfortably on his head, and it was Craig’s embrace that he was allowed in at that moment. It was them. It wasn’t the breeze, or the moon, or the sea, but at that very moment, it was them. Nothing more, and nothing less, then the two of them.

Not a single word was exchanged between the two, as both of them feared anything wrong they could say would startle the other, and ruin this decisive moment. As two people, not very fond of touching, they could easily and quickly end this all.

Tweek was the first to move, shifting his head to look into Craig’s beautifully perfect frozen-blue eyes, with his warmly sweet golden-honey ones. Realizing the boy was staring at him just the same way he was, Tweek gave a little impulse on his knees, standing on his tip toes as he laced his arms around Craig’s shoulders, freezing and leaving just a few inches between their lips. But Craig didn’t give two shits about it, and extinguished any particle that still separated their lips in a quick movement.

That was one of the days Tweek would never forget of, along with when he made it clear to Craig he didn’t like when Craig was getting it on with Clyde. “B-Being high is just an excuse!” He had told the whole table, getting everyone’s attention as he stood up abruptly, while hitting the surface with his clenched fist. Even Cartman had stopped eating his lunch to watch this. “Dude, it’s like, a habit, now sit down and chill.” Craig replied, trying to act calm and cool as he continued to eat his pizza. “I-It’s fucking CHEATING!”

Silence.

Complete and awkward silence.

It almost made Craig choke and die while eating the pizza. Soundlessly. He placed the food down on his plate and silently got up, motioning for the shaking blonde with watery eyes to follow him outside the cafeteria.

Tweek wanted to hit someone, hit anyone. He wished the tears in his eyes would evaporate away and his legs would stop acting limb and his body would shake less. And those people would stop staring and commenting as they slid through the cafeteria door to the hallway.

Craig turned to him, crossing his arms and leaning on the hallway wall. “You know we have this so called boner for each other, Tweek. I can’t help it. He’s so alluring when my brain isn’t functioning properly and I just want to fuck someone senseless.” Craig sighed, pausing for a moment. “You know it’s not love. You know we’re just friends with benefits. You know, leaving pizza aside, you’re the only one I love, so why the fuck do you do this? Why the fuck are you always jealous when I’m being a stupidass in that car? Why the fuck do you even still go with us? Why the fuck are you still with me?”

Those words hurt more than Tweek thought they would. It was like an elephant sitting on his chest. The weight on his heart was too great, and he couldn’t take it. It was breaking his ribs.

No wonder it was the first time he’d cried from so much pain.

At the party, Tweek couldn’t say anything when he saw Craig leaning closer to Clyde, whispering nothings and broken promises in his ear, licking his neck, tracing his jaw with kisses, until take his hand and blend within the crowd of horny people in that house.

He’d have to wait and try not to think about where they were and what they were doing until they come back, or in his case, until Token realize he was in pain and drive him home.

Kenny had stayed because that was practically a nightclub, but richer, and naturally, where there’s drugs, alcohol and girls, is called “home” or even sometimes “heaven” by the blonde.

The next day, when Craig regained consciousness, he woke up on his bed, well dressed and with no one beside him. That was a good sign. He worked his way to the bathroom, through a quick absentminded shower, clothing, and quick breakfast. It was Saturday, so he head a free day ahead. He knew it wasn’t going to be plain and boring, just the way he likes it, but the total opposite.

He spent a good twenty or so minutes looking for his motorcycle keys, and rode to the Tweak residence once he found them.

It was only when he had stopped to knock on the door that he realized how fast his heart was beating.

Mrs. Tweak answered the door, immediately replacing her true smile for a fake one once she saw who was at the door, and called Tweek while allowing Craig to go inside.

Since Tweek wasn’t going to leave his room, apparently, she told Craig it was okay to go upstairs, knock on his door and talk to him.

And so he did.

Tweek opened the door to his room with red eyes and eyebrows forced together in a frown, looking up at him. “What do you want?” He wasn’t really shaking, and it kind of freaked Craig out a little.

“Talk.”

“T-Then say it. I’m listening-g to you, aren’t-t I?”

“…” He didn’t have what to say. Sorry wouldn’t be enough, bribe would never work, making a sick joke and freaking him out would definitely end what they have between them, human contact would make Tweek punch him, and that was all he could think of in less than two seconds. “It’s up to you what happens next.”

Tweek took a moment to think, and for those seconds of hope, his features seemed to soften a little, but soon, his grip on the doorknob just tightened, and he slammed his bedroom’s door cold, closed shut on Craig’s face.

It hurt like a bitch.

And the door didn’t even touch him.

This, my dear readers, is the part where our story really begins.

With lack of friends and places he likes to go, Craig turned to the only person who would be able to at least remotely help him in this situation, as ironic as it sounds: Clyde.  

He parked his motorcycle on Clyde’s lawn, like usual, and walked through the front door, up the stairs, into Clyde’s bedroom, and throwing himself on Clyde’s bed, face first, sighed, whined, he didn’t even know what that sound was, but it got the host’s attention, so he guessed it was good enough.

The brunette found a save point in the game he was playing in his PlayStation and turned to face his friend, tossed on his bed. “Hey, dude. What’s up?” He greeted, placing the console on the floor to get up and sit on his bed instead, beside the other.

Craig turned around to lie on his back instead of his stomach, and shot a blank stare at the ceiling. “I think Tweek just broke up with me.”

Clyde raised an eyebrow. “That dude would die for you, man. He’d never break up with you.”

“Yeah, well, I guess he did.”

“So you’re not sure?”

“That’s generally what ‘I guess’ means, asshole.”

Clyde rolled his eyes, proceeding to lie beside his friend. “Dude, if we hotbox without him knowing, he’ll never know we did it, either.”

“It’s fucking obvious when I’m high, dude. Where the fuck have you been for not notice it?”

“Well, we can smoke in my house. My mom’s out of fucks to give, anyway.”

“And he’ll never know.”

“Exactly.”

“… You’re still a fucking retard, but enlightened by God sometimes.”

“Geez, thanks.”

He would have to give it a try. It was the last option he could manage to find that would fix it all, and if that didn’t work, he was lost. Utterly and completely lost, with no hope and no reason to not drawn that old Craig in the big, vast ocean, where no one would ever notice.

Clyde rolled off bed and picked his cell phone up, dialing Kenny’s number. “You know”, he turned to Craig; “Kenny still got some more weed. How ‘bout we finish it tonight?”

“Let’s finish it today, because we’ve got bigger plans for tonight.” Craig winked at the end of the sentence, that wink which would melt even the most coldhearted person in the world, that wink that can make you pass out of so much blood concentrated on your face, that wink that hypnotizes you, freezes you the more you look at it.

They’ve named it “semi-god’s rarity”, for the fact Craig does it less than he smiles.

The brunette bit on his bottom lip, and quickly talked to the blonde on the phone before hang up. “He’s on his way.”

“And Token?”

“Kenny’s gonna call him.”

Craig nodded, still not moving from his spot on the bed. He sighed, letting his eyelids cover his eyes from the clarity of the room, and that was the last thing he remembers that happened before Kenny throw his shoes at him, awaking him. “Nothing better to do, huh?” He groaned, shooting the blonde’s snickers back at him. They were dodged, obviously.

Said blonde was laughing as giving his marijuana a drag, while walked to the other side of the room to place the reefers on the table. The other two had closed the windows and the curtains, so the smoke wouldn’t go anywhere besides their lungs.

It was darkish outside, like if the sun had just set or was attempting to break in and bring dawn to the city at any minute.

Craig rubbed his eyes, taking the blue chullo off his head and laying it on the pillow beside him. “Dude, what time is it?”

Kenny glanced at his watch. “Seven in the afternoon.” Then gave his pot another drag, exhaling some smoke, barely filling the room.

By the time the boys had to actually try to see whatever they wanted to see through the smoke, Clyde had already given in to the raven, feeling him, touching him, kissing him, their reefers forgotten. Kenny and Token were too busy laughing and singing along to “All Along The Watchtower” to acknowledge the two getting it on on the bed.

Kenny was, apparently, playing the air-drums and the air-guitar (besides doing the back vocals), while Token was, too, playing the air-guitar, and singing. It matched them pretty well, particularly Token’s personifications of Jimmy.

They only noticed the two needed to be left alone when Craig told them so. Demanded, to be more precise. Not that it was too hard to kick them out; they practically were on autopilot in the way to the door when saw Clyde straddling Craig, nibbling and kissing and marking his neck.

The next few days were the same; they would all go over at Clyde’s, get high, laugh and fight and dance and sing and play invisible instruments until Kenny and Token would be expelled from the room, or notice the two on the bed or wall or floor, and go away on automatic.

And Tweek, poor Tweek, had experienced the worst few seconds of his entire life on one of those evenings.

A few hours earlier, as he had just finished his dinner, the blonde walked upstairs to his room with a mug full of warm coffee, expecting to sit on his chair and do homework until he couldn’t write anymore, remaining warm in his sweater and from time to time taking a break to, through his bedroom window, watch the snowflakes flutter down from the sky to a soft and peaceful landing.

But it all escaped his head as, when opening his bedroom door, sighted a gnome in the middle of his bedroom floor, with a look on its face and pose that indicated it had just jumped in from the window to the room.

The blonde screamed and threw himself on the little man, attempting to catch it or steal something from it to later use it to make people believe him, or even ask for a deal for it, but it was all in vein when the gnome executed a backwards jump over him, gracefully landing on his bed. The little man held his palms in front of his face, as in defense, with his eyes closed shut in fear.

Tweek frowned, with his eyes wide. He’d never seen a gnome not trying to run away or steal his underwear. Or remaining in one place longer than three seconds.

“I-I just want to help you!” The little man shouted, shaking. Fear was obviously taking over his body, every blood cell and atom. He let one of his eyes crack open, looking at the blonde, startled boy on the floor, confused. His arms slowly fell down to his sides and he sat down on the bed, carefully and not making any sudden movement. “Can we talk? I just want to talk.” The little, white beard creature said modestly, looking around the boy’s room, then back at him. “About your friend, Craig.”

Tweek’s heart skipped a beat at the mention of the name of who’s everything, all time and space, reason and madness, life and death, to his very being; body and soul. “What… Ab-bout him?” The fact he was talking to an old arch-enemy of his made his brain over think and get to the conclusion that, whatever the subject is, must be of utter importance.

“I’ve came to open your eyes and help you see the unseen. All that he’s doing to you is a mere trick of words, used in your brain to make you see things the way he wants you to see them, not how they really are. Like sophists, Craig is using words in his own benefit, to avoid and convert future actions into pleasurable ones to him, and himself only. For an example, making you think it is your fault his life is going to the drain takes the responsibility and guilt of his own actions, to you instead, making the weight on his back, lighter, and the one on yours, heavier. That way he can do whatever he wants, he can have whatever he wants, sit back, and enjoy life.”

Pain was like a little lead rock in which would deposit itself on the bottom of Tweek’s heart, and another one would add to the others, as realization hit him like cold water on the face, or a stab on the back. Tears started to form on the corner of his honey eyes, like little pools in the summer, and as water gathered in that same place, it was only natural that the pool would start leaking, freeing tears to a sad marathon down the boy’s cheeks, to his jaw, to his chin, to the floor.

Tweek shook his head from side to side, refusing to believe the truthful words that gnome was shooting him. He didn’t want to open his eyes and face the situation like it really was, because he didn’t want it to be that way. It wasn’t, and it was never going to be.

“Accept instead of deny, and you shall see it. You took the first step yesterday, when choose to close the door to blindness, and shall take the second today, to realize his emotions are completely corrupted, surrounded by bad intentions. Don’t rage, for, you will become what you are fighting against.” The gnome got up and walked to the window, jumping over the windowsill, outside the house.

The blonde remained there, sobbing on the floor, until his brain finished processing all what had just happened, and he ran to the windowsill, looking for the gnome. It was, for his delight, sitting on his porch. He pushed himself away from the wall and hurried to put on some jackets before run downstairs and to outside of his house, a sudden smile on his lips as he saw that the little man was still there, waiting for him.

It jumped the steps and landed on the snow, walking to the sidewalk. Tweek followed it the whole way to Clyde’s house, looking up at the brunette’s bedroom window when in sight. An uneasy feeling grew on his stomach as the gnome motioned for him to look inside the boy’s window, but he did so, and the image of Craig’s face buried on Clyde’s neck, his lips sucking and marking his skin, while his arms held him forcefully against the wall and roughly rocking his hips against the brunette’s own, to make the most friction they could get through the jeans, plus Clyde’s eyes closed shut, his head against the wall, his screaming almost audible from outside due to the great amount of ecstasy running in his veins, was possibly the most horrible scene Tweek had ever seen in his entire life.

He was in such a shock, he couldn’t even move from where he was standing, and he continued to watch as Clyde moaned and pleaded, and Craig whispered empty words and nothingness in his ear.

The second he actually stopped and thought about what had just happened, he found himself on his bed, under his blankets, crying like a newborn.

Suddenly it all made sense.

Craig is in need of love and affection, that’s the reason for the overdoses of drugs and senseless sex, also the reason of his closed self. No one ever knows what’s going on in his head or heart, because the walls he had built were too tall to let anyone in. Insecurity and fear were all that circulated in his veins, and as the second he had let Tweek in, and Tweek confronted him, the walls around his heart built one more edge, becoming taller, making Tweek unable to reach it.

--

Soon, vacations were over, and everyone was back in school. It had been five weeks Tweek and Craig didn’t exchange words or glances, since he had slammed the door shut on his demigod’s face.

It was both nostalgic and sad to see Craig again.

Surprising, also.

For the fact that Tweek thought Craig and Clyde would walk in school chatting like mad, occasionally hold each other’s hands, tease and kiss, unable to keep their hands off each other, but none of that happened. He knew they wouldn’t do these things, just attack each other behind locked doors and in between four walls, when no one were watching, and only for self pleasure, so he’d have a good “surprise” in “finding out” they didn’t actually were in love with each other, just with each other’s bodies. But he was really surprised to see Clyde holding Token’s hand instead, and Craig acting all cool like it didn’t bother him. Perhaps it didn’t.

Perhaps he was telling the truth; all that time he had been with Clyde was to busy himself with something, so he could get his mind off what mattered, off what was real, because reality hurt. It hurt like a fucking bitch knowing you had screwed up your entire life, and knowing the only way out was to screw it up so bad it would get to the end sooner.

Not like slow suicide or anything; just avoiding the subject to make time seem to pass faster.

Craig had taken the furthest seat away from the chalkboard, beside the wall. On his left was Token, and in front of him was Clyde. He didn’t bother to pay attention to the teacher, or anything, because no matter where he looked at, he wouldn’t enjoy what he saw nor heard, and that’s why he slept through the whole first period. Second was physics education, and since he couldn’t really sleep, he just sat on the corner of the field, with his back on the wall, and watched his classmates killing each other playing football. No one missed him. Stan would occasionally shout and swear at the players, and Cartman would tease Kyle through the whole game, while Token and Clyde would have the best moments distracting themselves with the game, and no one missed him.

Third period was interesting. They had a class in the laboratory, with all those chemicals and deadly and dangerous scientist stuff. Token and Craig, being way smarter than Clyde, mixed some chemicals and created a solution that, after being tested (on Clyde, obviously) was named Albino-X, since it made Clyde’s hair blonde and skin pale for some minutes, then disappeared, making him come back to normal. It freaked the teachers (besides Clyde himself) out in such proportions that the two of them got detention, or were supposed to. Clyde said the fault was Craig’s only, saving his boyfriend’s ass from spending the whole afternoon in school.

Craig was sure he’d slap Clyde’s lumbar so hard the boy would cry for days.

The two spent their whole lunch in the bathroom, leaving Craig to spend his with Stan, Kyle and Cartman (since Kenny was off with Butters somewhere). The spoiled fat boy wouldn’t shut up for a second, which finally got to Stan’s nerves, making him take his boyfriend away, proffering a monologue in which Craig was supposed to watch Cartman’s steps, so they wouldn’t end up running onto each other.

Not having a single fuck to give, Craig spent his lunch with Bebe and Red. He was forced to hear about shoes and boys and malls and how Wendy is a slut for inviting Rebecca and Jess instead of them (the girls), but anything was better than having to spend lunch with Cartman.

He had slept all periods until ten minutes before the bell ring to dismiss everyone, when he was awaked by Bebe and her laughter.

The professor told her to pay attention in class and stop chatting.

Like it ever worked on anyone.

“So she was like, ‘but he’s so cute!’ and I told her, ‘he’s a slut, girl. Don’t do this to yourself’, and she got all irritated and pissed, like I’m her enemy, you know? It’s not even fair.” The blonde snorted, twirling her finger around her hair.

“Talking about Clyde? Yeah, he’s a dirty manwhore.” Craig commented now that he was awake anyway, looking up at Bebe with half-dazed eyes.

“We were actually talking about this boy we ran onto in the mall, but have you heard Clyde is dating Token?” The blonde raised her brows, looking at Craig like if waiting for approval or correction.

He pushed his torso off the table, sitting properly. “Yeah. They’re together for almost a month, I think.”

The girls looked at each other in awe, then back at the raven.

“And what do you think about it?”

“I couldn’t care less.”

Red snorted, smiling. “That’s the Craig we know.”

“You don’t know me. You just think you do, Red.”

Bebe raised her eyebrows, almost as in an offended facial expression, but then dropped it. That was Craig Tucker they were talking to, after all.

The professor hit Stan’s table with a ruler making a noise so loud, all the students knew his soul nearly didn’t attached back to his body as he shot up in awe.

“Sleeping in my class, eh?” The tall and creepy teacher walked back to his desk, sitting down on his chair, giving the raven some moments to calm his heart down and try not to die right there, right now. “To the blackboard, Marsh.” He commanded, gathering some paper sheets that were lying on his table.

The boy complied, walking to the front of the classroom, and standing there in awkwardness and shyness and ashamed, shifting his weight from one foot to the other in silence. In fact, the whole classroom was in silence.

The professor handed the raven the paper sheets he had just gathered, and ordered him to finish teaching the class.

Speechless, Stan stood there for a little while, just the enough time to gaze from his teacher to Kyle and back, processing the scene and mentally preparing himself for moments of shame later.

“It’s for today, Marsh.”

He quickly skimmed through the papers and its contents, finding himself in a royally fucked up situation. He knew nothing about Math, only the basics, like addition, subtraction, division, multiplication, roots, potentials and Pythagorean Theorem. In the sheets, there were stuff like functions and graphs and parabolas like he’d never seen.

Stan could feel everyone’s eyes laid on him, watching him, as his cheeks burned and what was left of his reputation went to the drain.

He moved to the blackboard and copied the first thing on the sheets, two numbers with comma in between them and each one inside a bracket. Beside the function, there was a graph, so he copied that, too, along with the question.  

Now he is supposed to explain what he had just written, to the class, and he had no idea what sorcery that one was. He turned around nevertheless, frowning and shaking.

Kyle raised his hand.

“Uh, yeah, Kyle?” He knew everyone could hear the embarrassment in his voice.

“I have a guess. Can I give it a shot?” The redhead looked at the professor, waiting for the answer, but the man only motioned for Stan to reply.

His heart beats fastened. “Yeah, sure.”

Kyle got up and walked to the blackboard, taking the chalk from his boyfriend and writing two functions under the numbers, then with a small and quick little Math he found out the values of ‘a’ and ‘b’, and built another function, which answered the question.

Knowing he worked like a boss, Kyle placed the chalk back on Stan’s hand with a smug smirk, and walked back to his desk.

The class, dumbfounded, had to take some seconds to process what had just happened.

Butters raised his hand. “Um, is that right?”

Stan looked down on the paper and nodded.

“H-How did he do it?”

He didn’t have the slightest clue. “Uh, ask him.”

Butters turned to Kyle. “How did you do it?”

As the redhead was about to answer, the bell rang, dismissing everyone.

Stan felt so free that he practically grabbed his stuff and ran outside, and when sighted Kyle, hugged him so hard he was sure that if he hugged a little harder, he’d break some bones there.

Craig had this almost overwhelming urge to punch their faces repeatedly, until get some teeth as prizes. Their lives were so perfect he just wanted to run away from them as far as he can and live under a rock forever, but that bitch Clyde had gotten him stuck in detention the whole afternoon. Really fucking awesome.

As he opened the door to detention, life got worse than it could ever get. For some reason, Tweek was there, too. But that’s not the worst part yet; they were alone. No other student was there, only the two of them and the professor/supervisor. Without further options, Craig took a seat on the back of the classroom, sighing heavily.

It had been so long he’d last seen Tweek, that even the boy’s usual spasms were nostalgic. His hair, everywhere and of that beautiful blonde color; his shirt, always poorly buttoned; his gah’s and hng’s, never in any specific order; his pouts and frowns, that always made his cheeks tinted red; his eyes, honey and warm, sweet yet strong; his legs, delicate yet masculine; his thighs, not being too small, but not too big and boneless, either, but of the perfect size and consistence… Resuming: all those months trying to forget Tweek were in vain, and he didn’t even get to describe his lips and… Well.

Craig wanted to hit himself. Maybe sitting in the back was one of the stupidest fucking ideas ever, because all he could see was Tweek, and all he wanted to forget was Tweek. All he could think of was Tweek, and all he wanted to forget was Tweek. All he couldn’t have was Tweek, and all he had to forget, exactly because of that was Tweek.

He didn’t know detention was like hell on Earth.

The professor excused himself, and exited the classroom for what he claimed be minutes.

Craig new minutes would feel like years to him.

It wasn’t quiet. The last thing you’d get when being around Tweek would be silence, but if referring to dialogues, well, yes, it was pretty damn quiet.

Craig didn’t have anything to lose, honestly, so he reached for the stars.

“I’m sorry.”

It seemed to have an effect on Tweek, because the blonde tensed up. From toe to nose.

“I was the stupidest dumbfuck that has ever walked on Earth, and if you could, one day, at least try to forgive—Actually, you can just forget me. I don’t care, I just don’t want to have any negative effects on your life anymore. It’s killing me. It has always been killing me, and I’ve been waiting for a moment like this to tell you, because, Tweek, you’re the best thing that I’ve ever let go of, and I promise you, I will never, ever touch your heart you again if you just promise me you’ll be happy and not the opposite because of me.”

It took a moment for the blonde to move, slowly and with pauses, but he was moving his head to the left, then eventually his body, and soon they were reading each other’s emotions with their eyes and through their eyes.

Tweek broke eye contact to glance at the floor for a second, before hesitantly get up and walk towards Craig, modestly stopping beside him, shaking nervous. At the moment his demigod got partially up, he let his head weight down and hit Craig’s chest softly, followed by his arms, and as his shoulders moved quickly up and down once, in an inaudible sob, saved back tears from many, many weeks ago escaped free, making their way down Tweek’s cheeks.

They both knew everything was okay now.

Those tears weren’t of sadness, but relief.

Everything was fixed, and nothing hurt.