Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Craig Tucker didn't really care what anyone else had to say. People had a tendency to make assumptions faster than water pooling into the confines of a stainless steel sink, regardless of what they already knew about someone. He'd learned a long time ago that it was just human nature; the brain needed to rationalize every little thing, and as such filled in the blanks without much consideration for the person on the receiving end of these desperate first impressions. After all, what is life without logic?

Nonsensible, maybe. But Craig was no such thing. Regardless of what people said, he knew who he really was. He wasn't incapable of love, he wasn't boring, and he sure as hell wasn't goddamn insane. 

Craig was happy to take accountability for anything he felt he actually caused. But this? Hardly anything about this situation was his fault. Nothing about it, for that matter, was his damn fault. 

His friends cared about him. He knew that, and to an extent, he cared about them too. Craig stopped listening to what others had to say about him a long time ago; to think anyone was incapable of feeling genuine human affection was a stupid thought process, and if anyone actually believed he was genetically geared that way, then they were hardly worth his time in the first place. 

He liked his friends, he did. But they were young, once, and as young boys they had a habit of ditching his sorry ass in favor of more interesting things. Such a philosophy only seemed to continue when he sat alone in the nurse's office after an “altercation” with someone in their grade in the middle of the cafeteria at lunch. 

Which, again, was not his fucking fault. Craig wasn't straight, in any sense of the word, but he was an okay enough person to know that the word “no” meant just that; no. Some dick in a varsity jacket couldn't take the hint, sidling up to a pretty girl just a grade lower than him and trying to harass her for her attention, and Craig didn't really feel like just sitting there and watching it go down.

He hadn't gotten suspended for fighting in a long ass time anyways. People might start thinking he was a “good guy”, god forbid.

The fight went on for longer than he honestly expected; granted, none of the adults in South Park really cared to make an attempt to stop the chaos in this town anymore. Craig ended up with bloody knuckles and a few bruises to his arms and neck, but otherwise was pretty much unscathed. To the surprise of absolutely nobody, the guy was a little bitch and didn't know how to protect himself for shit. He ended up running home to his parents afterwards, sobbing and rambling on about some kind of lawsuit.

Meanwhile, Craig ended up in the nurse's office. 

Fights were a bit of a gossip phenomenon around their school. His friends ended up hearing about it before long, and while Tolkien had spared a quick visit in between classes while he sat waiting to be patched up, the majority of his group decided to merely hound him with questions about the guy he beat up. Craig could only handle so many implications about how “kinky” the entire fight was before he turned off his phone completely. 

So, he ended up alone. And that suited him just fine. 

Until eventually, the door to the nurse's office swung open, and his perpetual isolation was no longer the case. 

“Craig?” 

Kyle Broflovski. Bratty ten year old turned political activist at the ripe age of 15, his brain supplied. 

“Hey, dude.” The redhead shut the door behind him, then walked over to where Craig sat on one of the two cots in the room. He probably should've moved to a chair after his hands were bandaged up by the nurse, but it didn't really matter. He had zero reason to be anywhere but here right now. 

Although, this whole interaction was a little odd. He and Kyle were friends in a loose sense of the word when they were kids, but ever since middle school the two had hardly spoken a single syllable to one another. Not for any particular reason; their friend groups just kind of… stopped existing within the same realm of possibility. What was he doing hounding Craig's ass now?

“Sorry. I know this is kind of weird, but.” Kyle smiled rather awkwardly, shuffling his feet back and forth where he stood. He seemed composed on the surface, but Craig was quick to catch the way his hands twitched with a hard felt anxiety. He couldn't help the way one of his eyebrows rose upwards at the sight. 

“I, uh. Just wanted to say… thank you? I guess?” Kyle glanced away briefly before turning his eyes back to Craig. “Um, I know you probably didn't have any kind of sentimental reasoning behind it, but I appreciate you standing up for Holly. She's on the student council with me, even though she's a year younger, and I've really been trying to tell her to ditch that dipshit of a ‘close friend’ she has trying to harass her every day. He just gets so handsy, all the time, even in front of other people. It's fucking gross, man. I fucking hate guys like that, who probe at girls and expect them to fall head over heels for them. It's sick.”

He shrugged, his expression taking on a more earnest warmth above all the obvious anger. “Point is, I know she wasn't brave enough to talk to him herself. So even if you didn't mean to, you may have scared him off. And I guess I'm just trying to say thank you.”

And Craig… didn't quite know what to say in response. 

“Uh.” The singular word left his lips in a low drone. “No problem, I guess? You're right, I didn't kick his ass because I knew about all of that shit.”

“Maybe not.” Kyle shrugged again, his smile a bit more mischievous. “But you saw the way he was treating her and decided to do something about it. That was pretty cool of you, dude.”

The two locked eyes for a moment, and Craig couldn't help but feel just a bit uneasy. This was… out of nowhere. This interaction, Kyle's kindness towards him and this random student council girl; Kyle just in general. He knew the guy was pretty vocal against things he didn't agree with, but thanking Craig for doing something “nice” after they hadn't had an actual conversation in literal years was messing with his head. The worst part about it was probably that he didn't mind too much. 

“Uh, I can stick around for a bit. If you want. I have study hall right now, and it doesn’t exactly look like you have a lot of company.” Kyle’s expression turned sheepish once again, and while Craig would probably be bothered by the comment if it came from anyone else, he found himself with the odd urge to poke at the poor guy’s pride just a bit more than he already had.

“You trying to say I’m lonely, Broflovski?” He drawled, leaning back on the cot slightly to get a better look at Kyle. Kyle, who’s eyes widened minutely at his response before breaking out into a sly smile. 

“Yeah, actually, I am. I actually don’t care about the really nice thing you did for a lowerclassman who can’t defend herself, I just saw you were alone in here and decided to come in on my own time and make fun of you for not having any friends.” He rolled his eyes, but his expression was very clearly playful. “The fuck do you think?”

Craig shrugged, the corners of his lips twitching ever so slightly. “Sounds like something you’d do.”

“Oh, fuck off, dude! You don’t even know me.”

And he was right. Craig didn’t know a damn thing about him. At least not anymore. But now… he wanted to learn.

Kyle didn’t stay for too long after their little exchange, but at that point it didn’t really matter. Something had already shifted, and now Craig found himself in a little bit of a difficult situation.

He wanted to learn more about Kyle. So, he started paying more attention.

Craig already considered himself to be observant, but really only towards things he actually cared about. Now that Kyle was one of those things, he found the redhead catching his attention more and more often. It wasn’t exactly hard to pick the guy out of a crowd, seeing as his head looked like a smoldering flame of curls the longer you looked. Pile that on with the stark green hat he smothered that brilliant fire with every morning, and he was basically a walking traffic light.

It started off small. As time went on, and he grew up, Kyle did too. Craig noticed when he made the switch from worn Jordans to smooth, shiny Converse, or how every time he passed by the gymnasium on his way out of school, Kyle was inside giving some kind of speech or waltzing around and discussing rapid fire topics with those around him with a broad smile on his face. That first instance was how Craig learned the guy was now in Model UN, the fucking loser. He hadn’t been in that club last year, he knew that much.

Eventually, though, his craving to catch the differences in Kyle began to shift. Not only did he want to see what had changed in the boy; he wanted to know the consistencies. What about Kyle didn’t change? What did he attempt to keep the same, regardless of how life decided to fuck with him every day? How did Kyle live?

Craig became more diligent. He was subtle about his observations, keeping close to his friend group or even idling against the closest wall with his gaze glued to his phone as he continued to sneak glances at the redhead a few feet away. He almost felt like he had to be careful, as if there was something bad about what he was doing, but that was ridiculous. He just wanted to learn more about Kyle, was all. There was nothing else to it.

And he learned. Craig had pretty much gathered the guy had a schedule, but he very quickly realized Kyle stuck to that schedule to a tee. Special circumstances be damned; if he had a regimen to complete that day, he’d do it. It almost seemed a bit neurotic, but Craig begrudgingly admired the dedication. He couldn’t remember the last time his own life had been so strictly organized and consistent. 

He also learned very early on that Kyle was busy. Between driving his brother to school in the morning, getting to his own classes before the bell, keeping his GPA squeaky clean, and participating in all these dumb after school activities that Craig assumed were meant purely for boosting his college applications, he honestly had no idea how the redhead didn’t collapse with exhaustion at the end of every day. Not that it really mattered, he supposed. Craig was close by enough of the time to catch him, should that be the case.

Kyle liked rigidity. He liked school, his hobbies; basketball, most of all. He liked iced tea, and his friends, and any chance he had to be successful. 

And Craig liked knowing these things. He liked knowing Kyle, even if such attention wasn’t exactly reciprocated. 

“Craig. Craig, dude!”

The man in question snapped to attention, tearing his gaze away from the small smudge of fiery red standing on the other side of the field and turning it back towards the brunette in front of him. “What?” He droned, the slightest twitch of his fingers betraying his irritation at being interrupted.

“What? What do you mean, what? I’ve been over here snapping my fingers and tapping my feet and you don’t even give a shit! I swear, dude, it’s like you’re on a whole other planet lately.” Clyde took a large bite of his sandwich, his bitchy tirade seeming to reignite his appetite. Craig was less than amused.

“Okay?” He cocked his head to the side, eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly. “How the hell is that my problem? Do you want me to be irritated at you?” 

“I mean, yeah, kinda.” Clyde shrugged, mumbling around bits of half-eaten ham. “That’s how I know you’re still listening to me. And sometimes it’s hard to tell! I can’t ever really say if I’m getting through to you or not with all of my intelligent fun facts.”

“Shut up. Your ‘fun facts’ are hardly ever factual, or even fun.” Craig practically bit out the words in a low hiss. 

He hated to admit it, but Clyde may have had a point. He supposed he was a bit out of it lately, but it couldn’t really be helped. They were all seniors now, due to graduate in a few months, and he still hadn’t figured out what to do about Kyle. He knew his family wanted him to go to Harvard, but Craig doubted the redhead would follow through. Boulder then, maybe? Yale? What if he got his diploma and just decided to settle in some shitty dead end office job? That would be awful for Kyle mentally. He’d hate it, Craig was certain.

And even worse, what was Craig gonna do when they graduated? If Kyle did decide to follow in his overbearing family’s footsteps and get into an Ivy, he wouldn’t really be able to trail after him. It wasn’t like his current GPA was going to get him any further than community college, anyway.

“Whatever you say, man.” Clyde rolled his eyes, but when he finally swallowed his food Craig was quick to notice the concern lacing his gaze. “I dunno. It’s just kinda like… you got clouds in your eyes, sometimes. Which I guess isn’t all that weird, cause your eyes are that weird grey-ish color that I don’t really think is natural, but you know!”

Then, he dropped the humorous tone he was using to sweeten his words, looking at Craig with wide eyes. “Are you, like… okay? I’m really worried about you, dude.”

Craig blinked once, trying to register just what exactly his friend was saying. How could anything be wrong? He was fine. Great, even. Granted, finals were coming up and he was finally being forced to actually worry about his studies, but that was hardly cause for concern. 

He was fine, because he had Kyle to look over. He had to be fine.

Finally, after a few seconds of silent thought, Craig tore his gaze away from his friend, leaning back on his hands against the blanket of grass beneath them and allowing the gentle breeze blowing through his hair to carry his troubling thoughts away. “That’s funny. I didn’t know you were capable of such big emotions.”

Clyde was quiet for a moment more, then huffed dramatically. “That’s so rude!” He squawked, throwing his hands in the air. “Here I am, trying to be a good pal for my dear ol’ friend Craig, and he says I’m stupid!”

“Actually, you just said you’re stupid. I haven’t said that word in at least a few hours.”

The jab was enough to change the course of conversation entirely, leaving Craig to fester in his own mind once they finally parted ways and he was forced to walk home from their well-loved spot on the football field. If Clyde of all people had mentioned he was acting stranger than usual, then maybe his words actually had merit. Granted, Craig had no idea that his behavior had changed as of late.

It’d been years since he originally started keeping tabs on Kyle, and while people had commented on the way he kept his gaze on the redhead as he walked through the halls of their school or his steady attentiveness to the student council’s dealings once or twice throughout that time, he hadn’t heard anything else being said warranting his behavior. Not to his face, anyway. He also couldn’t think of a reason why he was being so odd in the first place. Craig was hardly ever worried about much else other than Kyle nowadays.

Granted, maybe that was his problem. Maybe he had been fixated on the fostering flame that was Kyle Broflovski for too long, and now, he was beginning to lose his patience simply watching him burn from afar. 

Working at the town’s local library essentially confirmed what Craig already knew; no one in this town knew how to read. And even if they did, they were too stupid to process the words on the page.

Luckily enough he had the pleasure of not being forced to sit at the help desk for every single hour of his shift. No, that privilege was given to the random 80 year old woman with dust for bones his manager had picked up off the side of the road to work for below minimum wage. She didn’t seem horribly discontented with her arrangement, seeing as she was making money for 8 out of the 23 hours she spent inside the building. Loitering after hours was inexcusable for everyone but her, it seemed. 

Craig didn’t get angry about much nowadays, but even he had his moments. The spark of frustration that fired through the blood in his veins when he caught books with crushed spines or every other page dog-eared as some desperate teenager tried to cram in useless facts before their impending biology exam was more consistent than he would like. 

He just didn’t quite get what was so hard about it. Treat books with respect; or, at the very least, don’t fucking snap them in half because you’re bored and can’t figure out how to read the word “consolidation”. It seemed like basic human etiquette to him.

For whatever reason, Craig found himself being particularly quick to anger over the course of this particular shift. He was doing a damn good job at resisting the urge to snap at patrons who decided to walk up to him and ask idiotic questions, but those instances were few and far between. Instead, he found himself growing more and more irritated over tiny things. Things that were, really, insignificant, but seemed like a much bigger deal in his clouded headspace. 

It was around the third time that he found a children’s picture book lodged between a borderline smutty horror book and Stephen King that he finally had enough. Craig practically threw the colorfully warped book onto the cart next to him, growling low in his throat as he moved along further down the aisle. He really couldn’t tell why he was so frustrated about absolutely nothing. Nothing was going wrong in his life right now; he was fine. There was hardly anything to be stressed about. 

As soon as the thought crossed his mind, however, Craig could feel himself scoff under his breath. Because that excuse was hardly even true, and he knew it. He just really, really didn’t want to think about it.

Clyde had gotten under his skin. That much was clear. He’d brought up Craig’s weird behavior, and now he was fretting over the subject of said weird behavior. The butterfly effect was always an odd one to watch play out in the course of your own life. 

He hated to admit it to himself, but he was nervous. He’d been trying to an extreme extent to ignore the anxiety he had surrounding Kyle and their graduation, but now he just couldn’t quite shake it. He didn’t like the idea of Kyle leaving; of him abandoning this little one man project of his simply because Kyle was too damn smart for his own good and was more than likely shipping himself off to some fancy private institution. Meanwhile, Craig was stuck in South Park, as he would probably be for the rest of his days. Because Craig was nothing special. Especially not when compared to Kyle.

So then what did he want to do? What could he do? He had absolutely zero right to ask Kyle to stay, nor would he ever do so. That man deserved to flourish, diving head first into a career he enjoyed without being held back by someone he hardly even knew. 

So then what other options were there? Was he being forced to just… let him go? Was he really going to let Kyle Broflovski slip through his fingers because of his own cowardice at making an effort to let him know he was interested?

A loud squeal of rubber against tile snapped Craig out of his own mind. He’d been pushing the cart of books so damn hard he left a small black smudge on the ground of the library. The sight caused him to click his tongue against the roof of his mouth in mild agitation. 

He needed a break. Probably. From both his own mind and this half-assed librarian gig he was trying to keep up with.

Craig sent a quick text in his manager’s direction, letting him know he was taking his lunch break and didn’t want to be bothered, before slipping his phone back into his pocket and heading towards the elevator on the other side of the building. How South Park’s taxpayers were able to afford it, he had no clue, but luckily enough for him, this particular library had a second floor. And said second floor was quiet .

The elevator’s grating idle music did little to calm his irritation, but luckily it was short lived and Craig was able to step out into his newly discovered sanctuary. For whatever reason civilians didn’t come up here often; if he had to guess, it was because they were too lazy to try and find the way up. But that was completely fine with him. The lack of people just meant more space to mope. And potentially watching the latest video essay he found on the rise and fall of Radiohead’s publicity on a slightly higher volume than usual. 

But before Craig could settle down in one of the many chairs scattered throughout the room and indulge himself in the low drone of some shut-in white guy from Indiana, he froze. Because he was pretty damn sure that was Kyle Broflovski sitting in the corner of the room, scribbling away in one of his many notebooks with a look of concentration that rivaled any other miraculous sight Craig had seen in possibly his entire life. 

Of course he would be here. The moment Craig takes a second to recover and spare himself from his own circulating thoughts, the object of his concerns just shows up right when he doesn't need him to. If Kyle were to visit the library any other time, he would honestly probably be much more happy to see him.

Not to mention he was incredibly confused as to why Kyle was even here. It was Friday, a little after 6:00 PM; he had a study group with Wendy and Tolkien today. Why was he here, and more importantly, how had Craig not noticed the deviation from his typical schedule earlier?

He couldn't worry about that too much, though, because while he was standing in the middle of the room like an idiot in an ice block, Kyle had enough time to glance away from the work in front of him to catch his eye. Craig felt his body attempt to flinch at the contact, but any tension he held in his body immediately softened as the slightly endeared look that crossed the redhead's face at the sight of him.

“Uh. Hey, Craig.” Kyle tilted his head to the side, raising an eyebrow slightly while still ensuring he kept his delicate smile. “Did I, like, startle you or something? You're looking at me kind of weird.”

Craig blinked. He had absolutely zero doubt in his mind that whatever comment Kyle had to make about his odd stare wasn't true. 

“...What? No, I'm– fine.” If Craig could kick himself right in his own shin at the slight delay in his own voice, he would. But he didn't, and instead chose to slide into the seat opposite of the redhead and tossed his phone haphazardly onto the table.

“I am curious what the hell you're doing here, though. I've been working here since the beginning of last semester, and I’m pretty sure I haven't seen you step foot in here once.” Especially without his notice, Craig added silently. 

Kyle seemed hesitant to respond, vibrant emerald eyes shifting into something a bit more downtrodden before he blinked it all away. “I mean, I don't know. Wendy and Tolkien canceled on our study group tonight, and honestly I wasn't sure where else to go.”

The redhead then rolled his eyes, baring both elbows onto the surface of the table and resting the weight of his head in the palm of his hand. “My family has been absolutely insufferable lately, dude. Always bitching to me about college and my grades– which is bullshit, because we're almost at the end of the semester and I've hardly ever come close to hitting anything below an A for the past three years. I swear they just want to find another reason to piss me off all the time.”

The frustration that seemed to lace every muscle was still evident, but even he could catch the way Kyle's expression shifted into something slightly more amused as he turned to look back at Craig. “I guess I figured I could stomach the agony of sitting in this dusty ass place for more than five minutes to have a quiet place to work.”

Craig let out a low hum of amusement at the comment, narrowing his eyes slightly at the man across from him. “I don't blame you, I guess. I think I've just been here for so long that seeing anyone younger than 60 in this building is enough to give me an aneurysm.”

The joke was hardly funny, and even came close to not being a joke at all, but Kyle still laughed. Craig had the pleasure of watching his lips part around the sound, all while ensuring his gaze was kept at a respectful height. 

Then, a thought hit him about something Kyle had said previously, and Craig felt the urge to straighten a bit in his seat. “You… mentioned college.” He tilted his head to the side ever so slightly, keeping his gaze neutral as to not betray his hidden intentions. As if such a thing was difficult for him to accomplish. “Have you figured out where you're going yet?”

The groan that escaped Kyle's lips at the inquiry was almost enough to make him laugh. He didn't.

“Dude, if one more person asks me that question I might actually bang my head against something.” He was very clearly joking, but Craig was hardly blind to the apprehension pulling at the redhead's typical demeanor. 

Kyle bit down on his bottom lip, in what he could only assume was an attempt to hold himself back from being too bitchy. “I guess so, yeah. My parents have been pushing really hard for Harvard, but… I don’t really think pre-law is useful in the long run. If I get through my bachelors but don’t go to law school then there’s really no point, you know? I don’t wanna be locked up on a college campus forever.”

Craig could understand the sentiment. Regardless of Kyle’s reputation, no one wanted to be stuck in the same place for longer than they had to be.

“Anyway, I think I’ve landed pretty hard on Yale. It’s definitely not what they’ve always dreamed of all my life in their weird ass fantasies about me, but I think it’s good enough.”

Kyle shrugged, his expression twisting into something a bit softer. “I don’t mention it to a lot of people, but I think it’d be cool to help people instead of debating with them. My parents can hardly be mad at me for not dragging people off death row when I’m saving them from death’s door instead.”

And this was a prime example of why Craig Tucker was so interested in Kyle Broflovski. Medicine over law; helping others heal rather than finding justice. Some would probably assume they were interchangeable, but Craig knew better. He knew that Kyle knew better. 

“...Yeah.” He muttered after a moment of quiet deliberation. “I think that would be pretty cool.”

A moment of silence passed between them, and Craig had to keep himself from shuffling in his seat. Kyle had finally landed his gaze back on him, and now they were practically staring into one another’s souls. The look in the redhead’s eyes was undecipherable, but he almost seemed surprised. Craig had just assumed he’d become too predictable over the years to shock anyone nowadays, but now, that sentiment appeared to be false. 

They stared at each other for a moment more, until finally, Kyle’s expression broke into a teasing smile. “I wasn’t expecting you to agree with me,” He said in lieu of a proper response. “You sure you’re not just pitying me with those sad puppy dog eyes of yours, Tucker?”

Craig blinked. His brain took a moment to process the words, but when it did he immediately looked away. “I don’t have– oh, fuck off, dude.”

Kyle laughed again, although this time he seemed a bit more unrestrained. When the redhead tried took a second to reeducate himself on how to breathe, the affectionate shimmer lacing his irises was unmistakable. 

“Whatever you say, man.” He tapped the notebook in front of him, fine-tipped pen from before still curled within the palm of his hand. “I do have to finish this, though, if I even want to step foot out of South Park to begin with. You can stick around– as long as you just sit there and don’t make noise or anything.”

Craig rolled his eyes, slumping down in his chair to cushion his head against his crossed forearms. “Why the hell would I do that? You’re stuck in your own personal fantasy if you think I live to annoy you, Broflovski.”

“Okay, well, you can make that accusation again when you’re done hitting the damn table leg with your foot. Cut it out.”

As much shit as he was willing to give him, Craig was happy to let the redhead work in peace. He willingly burned away the limited amount of quiet time he had by simply resting his eyes in the corner of the library and being in the presence of the man everyone still happened to assume he hated. 

But no. That wasn’t exactly true. Craig hadn’t hated Kyle in a long, long time. It was hardly his fault he’d changed his mind all that long ago. Nothing about any of this was his fault.

As the minutes passed and the gentle scribbling of pen against loose leaf paper filled the air, Craig began to mull over the information given to him. If Yale was his final decision, then he really needed to start putting effort into actually thinking of what to do. Connecticut was closer to South Park than Massachusetts, but not by much. Not to mention the topic of his own personal education had hardly even come up in his own personal life.

Craig would never limit Kyle and his abilities to succeed. While he knew that his own little sense of interest seemed to be forever unsatisfied, he had zero intention on stunting him like that. Kyle deserved to do well, to go to school and help people with whatever ailment anyone could possibly think of. He deserved a life so, so much better than anything South Park could ever give him.

Maybe he’d even get married one day. Find himself a loving partner, a good place to live. Kids of his own.

Craig immediately halted that train of thought the moment he felt it begin. 

The facts were all laid out in front of him now. In just a few months, Kyle would be flying off to an Ivy, leaving Craig to mope and hopelessly wonder just what he was getting up to all the way across the country. And as much as he wanted to know about the boy and what his life looked like on the daily, Craig hardly had any interest in being any more miserable than he already was. So then what could he do?

It was only when he felt himself submitting to the soothing energy of the atmosphere around him that Craig came up with an idea. He would never do anything to stop Kyle personally. In fact, the only person who could stop Kyle from doing anything was Kyle himself.

So then all he had to do was just… let him find a reason to stay. Or, even better yet, take Craig with him. 

That could work. If Kyle ended up convincing himself into more realistic planning of his own accord, then there was no reason for Craig to even try and intervene. Not that he ever had plans to do so in the first place.

He could probably help push things along in that aspect. Find Kyle reasons, excuses, any logic under the sun that would keep him within Craig’s orbit. And maybe… just maybe, he could start by becoming better friends with him.

This was going to work. And the calming implications of his own affirmation was the catalyst Craig needed to fall asleep to the sound of Kyle’s unintelligible mumbling and his own ruminating thoughts.

Chapter Text

Craig realized later on that maybe his plan was a bit more manipulative than he was willing to admit. Even still, he knew he was basically out of options.

He just had to get Kyle to stick around by indirectly convincing him to stay. Easier said than done, considering he still had some kind of ambiguous moral code when it came to not holding him back. Not to mention the group of insignificant little pricks he called friends that surrounded him seemingly every waking moment of every day. 

It wasn’t like it was particularly hard to avoid them. Craig had grown to learn the tells of chaos threatening to knock down his doorstep, as well as how to avoid it completely. It wasn’t that difficult; just the sound of their shrill voices alone was enough to tell him to turn the other way before they caught his sorry ass out in the middle of their shaky crossfire.

Cartman was boisterous. Kenny was suggestive. Kyle was just downright loud. 

And then Stan– Stan fucking Marsh– was whiny. So goddamn whiny.

Craig would be first to admit he was negatively biased when it came to Kyle’s group of friends. He’d pointedly avoided speaking to the redhead directly after beginning to pay more attention to him, and Cartman was so blatantly bigoted he didn’t care to try and make any kind of acquaintances with him. That really only left Kenny and Stan, and just the mere thought of the latter made him want to blow his own brains out.

He wanted to say that Stan technically hadn’t done anything wrong, but that would be a lie. Somebody could also argue such a thing, stating that while he wasn’t perfect, the alcoholic turned star sports player really was working on doing better for himself, and Craig would be first in line to tell them to shut the fuck up.

Because, to anyone outside of them, Stan would seem perfectly innocent. He stayed away from Craig after their incidents as children, and even went as far as to apologize later on as they continued to grow up. But Craig was unfortunate enough to know the truth.

It was incredibly difficult to explain out loud, and even to himself, but Craig just knew that there was something off about the guy. He almost felt like he was being indirectly targeted, with the way Clyde would offer some kind of complimentary essay about Stan right after their shared practice unprompted or even the little mutters that he heard hanging in the air as he walked past their table at lunch. If he really thought Craig didn’t hear every time he shared his opinion on his latest escapades involving one too many smoke breaks and a physical fight with a member of their school’s faculty, then he really was an idiot.

Not to mention his closeness to Kyle. They were known for being the bestest of friends throughout the entirety of their lives. Craig was possessive at times, sure, but he wasn’t stupid. Something about the way he treated his closest friend at times bordered on obsession, and he really didn’t like it for reasons outside of his own personal wants and needs.

To put it lightly, Stan Marsh was fucking weird. He didn’t know how, exactly, but he just was. And Craig wasn’t exactly sure how he was going to get around that. 

McCormick was alright, though. They’d shared a smoke break or two together over the years, and Craig had to admit that without him, he probably never would’ve known the difference between water and oil based lube. It was definitely a piece of information for him to have, that was for sure. 

Regardless, if he wanted to get closer to Kyle, Craig would have to hop this rather difficult hurdle first. He wasn’t planning on befriending Stan, exactly; rather, he wanted to insert himself further into the redhead’s life until Stan literally could not ask him to leave.

Craig just wanted to force him out of the picture. That concept was simple enough, except for the fact that he had zero clue as to how to actually do that. 

Everyone assumed he hated Stan, which was true. Everyone also assumed he hated Kyle, which was not true. Everyone assumed he hated everyone, which was… not entirely off the mark. So then how did he plan on making this happen without being asked too many questions?

The solution he came up with was simple in the sense that he just needed to be simple. Craig was a reasonably intelligent guy, but he was also pretty bland; being lazy was like second nature for him. Why try so hard when he didn’t need to try at all?

Just befriend Kyle Broflovski after years of acting like he hated his damn guts. Sounded easy enough.

He started out in the school cafeteria, ironically enough. While Craig and his group typically sat at their own respective table during their lunch period, there were times when one or two of them deviated from the typical plan to tackle other social groups. Tolkien was typically the least likely to float outside of their circle, but Craig could hardly blame Jimmy and Tweek for not being the same way. He would almost be willing to place bets on the theater group being more entertaining in ten minutes than anything he could come up with in fourty. 

Clyde sat with Stan’s group, on occasion. And one day, Craig followed.  

The silence that passed between them all was hardly comfortable as the two settled into their newly discovered seats. Craig was easily able to ignore the odd looks sent his way as he started poking at the pile of mashed potatoes on his plate, but when even Clyde struggled to strike up a conversation, he was forced to look up from his food and acknowledge the blatant staring with a single sentence. 

“What?”

Craig caught sight of Kenny’s hard blink from across the table. Then, the blonde, leaned forward in his seat, resting his elbows on the table with a newly amused grin.

“Wow, Tucker. You've been here for 5 seconds and you already have a stick up your perfect ass.” He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, feigning a sense of disappointment. “Genuinely hurtful.”

“The fuck are you on about, McCormick.” The words leaving his mouth hardly even sounded like a question, but Craig let it slide, averting his gaze back to the plate in front of him.

“What are they on about? Dude, why are you here? ” The look on Stan’s face as he gauged the other man’s attiude would be comical if it was plastered onto quite literally everybody else. “You act like we don’t exist for literal years , and then you think you can just sit down with us and pretend like everything’s normal? We’re not even friends! Who said you could sit here?”

Clyde apparently took that as his sign to intervene, brushing off Stan’s concerns with a loud laugh and a heavy hand on Craig’s shoulder. “It’s chill, man! Craigory’s been on his best behavior lately, I swear. He’ll be so quiet you won’t even know he’s here.”

The brunette turned his head slightly, looking his friend in the eye with a slightly sheepish grin. “Isn’t that right, bud?”

The frosty glare he received in turn would be enough to singlehandedly solve global warming. 

Stan sputtered from his spot at the table, looking between Craig and the rest of his friends like they’d all grown three heads. “You cannot be serious, dude.”

He swerved to look at Kenny and Cartman, who had long since moved on from the sudden change in routine and were now nibbling on their respective meals as if nothing was out of the ordinary. “Guys, c’mon. Surely you can’t be okay with this.”

For as little as he cared for the skinnier man, Craig could at the very least admit that Kenny’s raw apathy towards anything ultimately unimportant was very quickly coming in handy. He watched as the blonde very quickly glanced up from his remains of saltine crackers and crushed apple juice containers before simply shrugging his shoulders.

“Hey, if Craig Tucker wants to spend his dearly beloved lunch time with us, who am I to argue?” He sent said man a lazy wink, which Craig immediately recoiled away from. “The more the merrier, honestly. Especially if he’s just gonna sit there and look pretty the whole time like Clyde promised he would.”

Stan’s irritation was now bordering on thinly veiled desperation. “Cartman?”

The man in question hardly even looked up from his phone as he threw a middle finger in Stan’s direction. It was only then Craig recognized the earbuds in his ears, as well as the obnoxiously loud lyrics of some trashy pop song floating through the air and across the table. 

And then, Craig had the pleasure of watching Stan finally turn towards his naturally sought after crutch. Kyle hadn’t said a word up until he was finally being acknowledged, but his eyes were still wide as his best friend moved to look at him.

“Kyle. Come on. You can’t say you don’t have an issue with being here.”

Kyle glanced very briefly at Craig, then back at Stan. Then, he picked up the sandwich laying untouched on his plate, taking a small bite and chewing slowly.

“I don’t mind, honestly,” He mumbled after a moment. “I don’t really get why you care so much.”

The sense of unbridled satisfaction Craig felt coursing through his veins at just that sentence alone was enough to last him the rest of his life. When Stan turned his head to look at him once more, the man simply raised an eyebrow, the silent challenge crackling in the air between them.

“I–?” Stan stumbled over his own words for just a few seconds more until he eventually gave up and allowed his shoulders to slump. “Whatever. I can tell when I’m outnumbered.”

I would certainly fucking hope so. Doesn’t take a genius to know that 3 is more than 1.

But Craig didn’t let his thoughts escape into the open air around them. Instead, he went back to his food, taking a bite of his burger in an effort to hide the way his lips threatened to twitch upwards.

It was brief, but it had happened. Kyle had chosen him over Stan. And Stan had listened, because he was Kyle’s little bitch and couldn’t think for himself.

The logical part of Craig’s brain continued to poke at his side, murmuring something about how it just didn’t quite make sense. He and Kyle had their first conversation in years only about a week ago, and now he was prioritizing him over Stan? There was hardly any actual reasoning behind it that he could rationally think of.

But Craig didn’t really care. If he already had Kyle sticking up for him, then he would hardly have to try as hard as he feared. It hadn’t taken more than two seconds for Stan to showcase his bad blood, but he could work around it. He could work around anything, if it meant keeping Kyle within his field of vision. 

Craig was just interested in Kyle. That’s all it was, and that’s all it ever would be.

Obsession was hardly even a word he’d ever consider for how he felt. And even if he did feel that way towards him, it still wouldn’t be his fault.

Ironically enough, his next encounter with Kyle was completely void of Stan. Instead, he showed up right back into Craig’s life in the middle of his time for Yearbook, with no one but Kenny McCormick in tow.

The low thrum of his classmates chattering around him was already plenty of incentive for Craig to tune out the rest of the world, but as he continued to tap away at his phone in the middle of the room, a voice began to bleed through the self imposed fog enough to cause him to look up. Sure enough, Kyle Broflovski stood off to the side, leaning against a somewhat wobbly table and talking calmly to his blonde confidant as they waited for something to print on the machine next to them. 

Craig paused very briefly, glancing between the two men and the phone he still held in his hands multiple times in mere moments. As tempting as it was to waltz over and include himself in whatever conversation they were having, he wasn’t entirely sure that was the best idea. He highly doubted either Kyle or Kenny knew he was here, seeing as they had no reason to know his schedule, and he wasn’t quite sure if him being actively present would cause him to lose out on sensitive information. Not to mention he could probably learn more as a spectator than an active participant. 

Decision made, Craig sighed low in his throat and turned his head to look away. The moment he did so, however, he felt the intense pressure of eyes boring into the side of his skull. He averted his gaze very briefly, apprehension making way for irritation as he tried to catch sight of who was so blatantly staring–

–only to find the sight of such familiar yet delicate green waiting for him.

The smile that broke across Kyle’s face was small, but he was still quick to tilt his head in a silent command for him to join them on the other side of the room. Craig was quick to give in, although not without a silent grimace at his own subservience. 

“Hey, Tucker.” Kenny greeted him with a dip of his head, a lazy smile gracing the curves of his lips as he glanced up at the older man. “You prostituting around with the Yearbook committee today? I don't think I've seen you in here before.”

Craig narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest and raising a single eyebrow at the blonde in front of him. “Sounds like you just don't pay enough attention, McCormick. Which doesn't really surprise me, considering how often I see you sticking yourself up Wendy's ass every chance you get.”

“Damn straight.” Kenny sighed in a way that was borderline dreamy, and Craig had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. “You'll understand what it's like to catch the attention of a pretty girl someday. Being gay is just a phase, you'll get over it soon enough.” 

And while Craig itched to respond to such an utterly ridiculous jab, the shifting of brilliant red in the corner of his vision caused him to turn his head slightly. When he did, he was met with Kyle, as well as the inquisitive look that painted his delicate expression. The way he tilted his head slightly to the side made him look like an overtly curious fox.

“I didn't know you were part of Yearbook. That's kinda cool.” 

And with just that statement alone, Craig's attention was completely diverted. 

“Oh.” He shrugged a single shoulder, slipping his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants. The heat he could feel beginning to trace up his neck and cheekbones was completely disregarded in favor of not sounding like an utter dumbass. “Yeah. I like taking photos of stuff, so it kinda just made sense.” 

“Really?” Kyle leaned forward slightly. His expression suddenly seemed much more playful than mere moments before. “I'm pretty sure you hate pretty much anyone and everyone. I can't really see you enjoying taking photos of actual people.”

“Bold to assume I take photos of any of the assholes around here. The pets page is all me; don't let anyone tell you otherwise.” 

Craig was very quickly beginning to realize how much he enjoyed the sound of Kyle's laugh. Especially when he was the cause of it. 

“I guess that makes more sense. I don't know why they'd let you make it all on your own, though. I'd be willing to bet the whole page is just photos of your dumb guinea pig.”

Craig's eyebrows furrowed against his forehead. “Hey. Stripe isn't dumb. Watch how far you stick your own neck out, Broflovski. Wouldn't want you saying something you'd regret.” 

The snarky glimmer in Kyle's eyes told him he had something to say, but the freckled hand that came to rest on the redhead's shoulder caused him to pause before he could even begin to speak.

“ Ky .” Kenny practically sang his friend's name as they leaned in a bit closer. “Your little anti bullying flyers aren't gonna make it back to the classroom on their own, you know.”

“Oh–” Kyle blinked at the gentle reminder, then immediately turned to the printer next to them. “Shit, you're right.”

Craig was silent as he watched the redhead gather the newly printed papers he'd let sit on the grim white tray of the machine. He could feel a certain warm blue gaze weighing heavy on the side of his face, but it was easy enough to ignore. Especially when Kyle turned back around and shot him a smile that almost seemed apologetic . 

“Sorry. We weren't planning on being here for too long. Wendy wants these up before school starts tomorrow, so she wanted me to print them out now to save some poor freshman the hassle in the morning.” He waved one of the papers for emphasis. 

“Not a problem.” Craig took a step back, giving them just a bit more space to leave. “Sorry I'm so distracting, I guess.” 

Kyle rolled his eyes, but the painfully attractive smirk that graced his lips was more than enough payback for the disappointment of watching him go. “You wish you could keep my attention for that long.”

The redhead then turned on his heel, waltzing off to the door of the room with a small wave in Craig's direction. “Later, dude.”

Craig gave him a two fingered salute in return. He was still as he watched him go, but when Kyle disappeared from view and he moved to return to his seat, someone cleared their throat mere inches away from where he stood. 

Craig swore he could feel his eye attempt to twitch at the sound. “What do you want now, McCormick?”

“Why are you assuming I want anything?” The blonde clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “So presumptuous, Mr. Tucker. Didn't your mother teach you any manners?”

Craig didn't respond. He simply stared down at the other man, waiting patiently, until finally some kind of resolve inside of Kenny snapped and he let out a low sigh. 

“Ky is pretty stubborn, you know.” He turned his head slightly to the side, refusing to meet Craig's gaze as he spoke. “Stubborn, but also really dense. He can't really tell the difference between someone just being nice or actually trying to get his attention. You know?”

Craig blinked. He was wildly unimpressed. “Okay?”

“All I'm saying is that he has a habit of getting himself too deep into something he doesn't even know anything about until it's too late. Cause he's stubborn, and also kinda dumb.”

It was then that Kenny looked back up at him again, and for what was potentially the first time in what felt like forever, his expression was unreadable. “It's hard to watch him do things without knowing what he's getting into. Even harder when I know I can't stop him.” 

“So just… remember that, I guess.” He shrugged, half assured smile returning in mere seconds. “Or don't! I don't really care. Not like you can do much about him anyways: Kyle Broflovski's kind of a hard nut to crack. Oh, speaking of things that are hard–” 

“Get the hell out of my clubroom, McCormick.”

“If you say so!” Kenny was quick to accept the demand, pushing himself off the table and beginning to waltz away. “Always knew you made for such great conversation.”

Craig watched him go. And when the door finally shut behind him, and the ratty blonde disappeared from view, he simply blinked before turning on his heel and waltzing back to his chair. 

…Did he think he was being intimidating?

Kenny McCormick was a lot of things. Namely blonde, dumb, and occasionally so damn selfless he tripped over himself trying to make sure others were happy and healthy. But the guy was hardly ever scary. 

Granted, his words could've been completely innocent. Throwing around threats wasn't really in Kenny's nature. 

But it didn't… really matter, did it? Kyle was willingly paying attention to him now; flirting, even, when he hadn't considered romance to even be an option. 

And it was exhilarating.

Craig made a valiant effort to return to his original assigned task of sorting through photos for a newly updated spread, but his attention was completely and utterly shot. Just that one interaction with Kyle alone was enough for his mind to wander, and once he lost his grip on reality it was exceedingly hard to get it back. 

Chapter Text

As the week went on and his apprehension for graduation grew, Craig became more and more integrated into Kyle’s group with every new day that passed. He learned incredibly early on that it really wasn’t all that difficult to feign interest in Stan and his obnoxious pack of clingy hound dogs, which meant he practically solidified himself a spot in their lives within mere days.

Although, it turned out that they all didn’t hate him as much as he originally assumed. 

The first encounter he had with Kenny after their blasé interaction in the Yearbook club room was hardly awkward. In fact, it almost seemed as if he’d forgotten about the whole thing entirely, hanging off Craig’s shoulder and acting like presenting him with the “world’s cutest puppy dog eyes” would get him to do literally anything the blonde asked of him. He was quick to learn just how wrong he really was.

Cartman didn’t even really seem to care that he’d begun to stick around. He almost seemed entertained , poking at everyone every chance he got about Craig “crawling back” after so long of hanging back with his own crowd. Even Stan was trying his best to stay cordial, and while his attempts were somewhat valiant, Craig could catch the irritation digging divots into the tanned skin of his forehead every time Craig dared to move even an inch closer to him from wherever he originally stood.  

He could hardly find it within him to feel bad about it. Maybe if he was just a better person, Craig wouldn’t find the whole thing so painfully amusing . 

As for Kyle… he had his own unique way of inviting him into their group.

“Hey dude! We were thinking of going out today, if you guys are up for it???”

“No pressure of course. Just thought I’d ask :)”

Fucking Kyle Broflovski with his dumb, stupid smiley emoticons. Craig was unbelievably flustered just at the sight of it.

That factor alone was probably how he ended up waltzing around the public shopping mall at five in the afternoon on a Saturday with a horde of rambunctious puppies disguised as young men.

When they’d noticed Craig’s not-so-subtle attempts at wedging himself into a different crowd, his friends had been incredibly quick to follow. Clyde had already cemented himself a spot at their new table semi-permanently, which left Jimmy and Tolkien to find their own way around the new shift in social groups. Tweek tried his best to stay close to at least one of his close friends, lest he get stuck anywhere with someone he wasn’t too sure about.

They all typically sat off to the side of Stan and his friends, leaning across the table to talk to whomever about whatever. But occasionally, they swapped things around. The lack of routine was already bothersome, but the moment Craig ended up sandwiched between Kenny McCormick and Wendy Testaburger and their incessant flirting for the entire lunch period, he’d proclaimed that Tweek was never allowed to leave his side again. Tweek hardly seemed to have an issue with it.

Craig’s group of friends was incredibly loyal. He was always silently grateful about that fact. But when he told them about Kyle’s extended invite to him and the rest of his friends, they all seemed a little too excited about coming along. 

“No, okay– Stan, my man. I’m telling you.” Clyde was in the middle of doing his worst attempt at a moonwalk, stumbling backwards as he tried to keep up with the rest of their group while also staying a few inches in front of them. “Terrifier isn’t even that bad of a movie. It’s not even scary and the gore is Scream 3 material at best; don’t listen to everything the internet tells you.”

“No way, dude.” Stan shook his head, visibly recoiling at the other man’s words as if he’d been burned. “I’ve heard all kinds of shit about that movie, I’m not even gonna bother. It sounds actually horrifying.”

“Don’t you mean… t-t-terrifying?” Jimmy cracked a grin at his own words, even as Stan playfully rolled his eyes in return. 

“Yeah, sure. Terrifier is terrifying. That sounds right.”

Craig’s brain felt like it was actively melting out of his skull. 

He was lucky enough that it was a bit later than usual, meaning that the mall was significantly emptier than it probably was a few hours before. There were still plenty of people milling around their group as they continued to move from store to store, but Craig dutifully ignored them, instead staring blankly ahead and occasionally adjusting the pair of headphones around his neck. Better to be safe than sorry in places like this.

Tweek’s sporadic movements as he walked next to him only served as a reminder of his current predicament. He hadn’t exactly chosen to stand off at the edge of the pack, but it hardly mattered considering who sat right in the center of their congregation. Craig doubted he could get close to Kyle right now even if he tried. 

He’d be lying if he said it didn’t bother him a bit. How the rest of his friends seemed to be practically hanging off of the redhead and distracting him with irrelevant topics Craig knew he probably didn’t really care for. Regardless of how close everyone was to each other here, no one really understood Kyle like he did; didn’t really know him. But Craig did, and he was well aware that one of his least favorite things to waste was time. 

Craig was unfortunate enough to glance over at the absolute worst time and witness Stan muttering something in his best friend’s ear, leaning close and even resting a hand on his shoulder. The borderline butterflies he felt in his stomach at the sound of Kyle’s laugh was heavily contrasted by the sharp twist of suppressed disgust ruminating in his gut at the sight. 

“Hey! Hey, hey. I have an idea.” Kenny stuck his head out from where he stood to address the whole group, his smile much more relaxed than Craig was used to typically seeing anywhere else. “The arcade is open pretty late on weekends. We should run in and take a break. I don’t know about everyone else, but watching Tolkien swipe his platinum credit card all night has made me absolutely exhausted.”

The man in question smiled cordially in response to the lighthearted jab. “It’s just gold, actually,” Tolkien clarified softly. “But I guess if you’re that tired I could buy you a fountain drink or something.”

“Aww, you would do that for me? ”

“Don’t act like you didn’t goad him into offering you something on purpose.” The sound of Craig’s own voice surprised even him, but his stare was still blank as he turned ever so slightly to look at Kenny. 

The blonde stared back, giving him a childish pout in return. “You make it sound like I use all my friends for money. I’m beginning to think you just hate fun, Tucker.”

“Explain to me what’s fun about having Tolkien buy you food without you even directly asking.”

“Why? Are you jealous?”

Hardly. But Craig kept the snark to himself, because now that he was positioned to look down at Kenny, he could see the blatant interest on Kyle’s face as he tuned back into the conversation. 

“I'd be down to go to the arcade.” The redhead's voice broke through the open air easily, and Craig immediately felt himself begin to relax. “I still have some leftover credits on my card from the last time we were there, I think. Might as well spend them.”

Stan gave a low hum of pleasant surprise. “Wasn't that when you won that really huge giraffe plushie for Ike a few weeks ago? I’m pretty sure we went there together.”

“Yeah.” Kyle smiled as if just the mention of his little brother alone made him impervious to the rest of the world. “He's in that dumb rebellious phase right now where he’s pretending like he hates his family more than anything, but Ma says she still catches him cuddling with it when she goes into his room to wake him up every so often.”

At that point the rest of the group began to chime in, and Craig immediately became uninterested in listening any further. He had his own sibling he could bring up, but it was easy to assume Tricia wouldn't appreciate her name even being mentioned by his “big, fat mouth”. Whatever that meant. 

The group gradually changed course as they walked through the mall, chatting animatedly even as they arrived at their destination. The built in arcade was moderately big, but still painfully old. There was zero chance in all of Hell that the bright neon lights their management attempted to install would ever fully disguise the scent of mildew and spilled Diet Coke against the patterned carpet floor.

But they were all hardly dissuaded, instead choosing to waltz right through the doorway as if they owned the place. Tolkien and Kenny were quick to waltz off, choosing to opt out on games in favor of food, while everyone else deliberated on credits and the amount of cards they all needed. Craig was hardly interested, instead waiting off to the side with Tweek until everyone was out of the way of the machine to mess with his own card. 

But, unfortunately for both of them, their ability to stay out of the chaos didn't last very long. The moment cards were given out and balances were decided, Clyde practically sprinted over to where they stood and began pestering the blonde next to him.

“Tweek, dude! Stan was just telling me about this huge new frog game they just set up, and it sounds perfect for fixing your anxiety! C'mon, we have to play.”

“ Ngh– what?” Tweek blinked, looking at Clyde like he had grown three heads overnight. “Why are you trying to– cure my anxiety, man? That's– aa– kind of a weird thing for you to do!-”

Clyde shook his head rapidly. “No, no no. I didn't say cure, I said “fix”! You can't say hitting little plastic animals over the head with a mallet won't make you feel better about life.”

“Actually, I'm pretty sure I can–”

But Clyde was adamant on not taking no for an answer. Craig did little but watch as Tweek was dragged away, chittering animatedly about not hurting innocent animals while Clyde reassured him with a hard pat on the back. Craig would have to admit that watching him realize that was the wrong move first hand was funnier than it probably should've been.

He was nice enough to let that ship sail completely on its own. Leaving Clyde to figure things out by himself was one of his absolute favorite things to do.

When he turned back to where the rest of the group should have stood, Craig was quick to find that everyone had practically vanished. Irritation seeped into the rawness of his muscles when he realized he'd been left completely on his own. Why he let Tweek go off without noticing everyone's absence was a complete mystery.

Craig glanced around for a brief second before shaking his head and beginning to wander off deeper into the arcade. He may as well find something to do now that he was on his own; playing arcade games by himself didn't seem all that appealing. 

The arcade wasn't as loud as he originally expected, but Craig was still starkly unamused. He rested one hand in the pocket of his deep navy jacket and the other on top of the earpiece of the headphones around his neck, tapping his fingers against the shiny plastic in a rhythm only he could currently recognize as he waltzed from game to game. He almost felt the urge to walk back to the machines and buy a card for himself, but that idea was very quickly shot down. Craig didn’t really feel like being called a loner by the rest of the group when they inevitably found him on his own; not to mention his reluctance to spend his money on games like “Hurricane Salsa Samba”. 

So then how did he want to spend his time here? It would probably be a while before everyone grouped back up again; he had enough time to do whatever he wanted, really.

The answer was simple. Craig paused, then began to walk in the opposite direction with an evident spring in his step.

Finding Kyle wasn’t all that difficult. It never really was. 

After what had to only be a couple minutes of walking, Craig caught sight of the redhead a few feet away. And, oddly enough, he seemed to be alone. With his general vicinity completely void of the typical overbearing presence that was Stan Marsh, Kyle seemed to be enjoying walking through the arcade, slim fingers toying with the card in his hands as he searched for something to do. 

How… incredibly interesting. 

There was almost a kind of thrill that came from following him around like this. While he was typically able to blend into the crowd while ensuring he made it to his scheduled destinations safely, Craig couldn’t help but feel as if he was more exposed than ever. The arcade wasn’t all that big, and his height just barely allowed him a sense of cover behind certain machines as he tried to keep his distance. He really should be much better at this whole spectating thing at this point in his and Kyle’s friendship.

Not to mention their friends were practically crawling around the place like rats searching for a piece of freshly discarded cheese. If they caught him sneaking around with Kyle in his peripheral… it probably wouldn’t be all that pretty. 

So, he just wouldn’t let that happen. 

Kyle was only a few inches shorter than Craig; which meant that he had decently long legs. It was hardly a struggle to keep up with him, but the rate at which he moved from game to game was almost enough to make Craig lose his sense of concentration. It also didn’t help that he just kept getting more and more frustrated when he couldn’t find something he was interested in playing, which meant that his expression continued to twist and his hair fell delicately against his forehead as he tugged at it in a way that was just– painfully adorable. 

But Craig didn’t get too big of a chance to stare. Eventually Kyle paused, and when he ducked around the obnoxiously large rabbit statue he chose to stand next to, Craig realized he was staring at a claw machine. From what he could see the machine held a variety of baby faced animal plushies, and the very evident interest lacing Kyle’s brightly colored eyes as he continued to stare caused Craig to tilt his head to the side in rampant curiosity. 

Why are you wasting your time here? He couldn’t stop himself from thinking. You know you have horrible depth perception. Spend your money on something that’s actually worth your energy.

But Kyle still didn’t move. Instead, after a moment or two, he glanced at the card in his hand, then swiped it against the machine and began to play.

Craig had front row seats to the horribly unfortunate sight that was watching Kyle try his hand at a claw machine. He swiped his card twice, then a third time, resulting in nine whole chances to achieve whatever it was he was trying to grab. Craig couldn’t even see what he was trying to win from where he stood, but apparently it was worth wasting both his money and good mood as Kyle refused to give up on it.

It was only when he saw him move to swipe his card for the fourth time that Craig finally intervened. The moment Kyle reached for that little piece of plastic he rounded the corner of where he originally stood, shoving his hands into his pockets and trying his best to appear as apathetic as he possibly could as he strolled over. Craig had originally thought his footsteps were quiet enough to not be detected for at least a few more feet, but Kyle’s attention was caught much quicker than he thought as he turned to look at him.

They made eye contact, and Kyle’s entire expression softened in what seemed like mere moments. It would be oddly cute, if not for the fact that he still looked ready to beat the shit out of someone who dared to even look at him the wrong way.

“Hey, dude.” Even with the courteous smile that graced his lips, Craig could still pick up on the strain pulling at the delicate hums of Kyle’s natural voice. He felt his own expression threatening to sour at the sound.

“Hi.” Craig stared down at Kyle, blinking impassively as his eyes searched every inch of his face, before turning his head slightly towards the claw machine to his right. “What are you up to, other than pissing yourself off?”

Kyle rolled his eyes, the air in his lungs escaping in a single exasperated huff. “I’m not doing it on purpose, if that’s what you’re trying to insinuate right now.” 

He leaned his hands against the console of the machine, head dipped in what Craig could only describe as shame. “I just suck at these kinds of games, I guess.”

I know.

Craig raised an eyebrow. His eyes raked up and down the redhead’s body as he tried to memorize every little sign of thinly veiled embarrassment before looking back at the machine. “What are you trying for?” He asked, his efforts at staying stoic becoming much easier the longer he stood next to Kyle.

Kyle glanced back up as he spoke. The confusion he probably felt at the inquiry seemed to manifest itself into hesitation, but Craig was patient enough to wait for him to recover and point at a soft-looking penguin nestled in the corner of the machine. “That one.”

The mumble that left the shorter man’s lips was almost pitiful. Craig took a quick moment to assess where exactly the plushie in mind sat, then gently nudged the card Kyle held out of his hand and swiped it against the machine. 

“Hey–?”

“Shut up. Hold on.”

Luckily for Kyle, Craig considered himself to be prime compensation for everything the redhead struggled to be. It wasn’t all that difficult for him to wrap the flimsy metal claw around the penguin, dragging it closer and closer to the chute with the first two attempts he was given. He almost expected to hear some kind of sarcastic comment or quip about not getting it in the first try, but Kyle stayed silent. Even with the gentle quiet between them, the weight of a familiar set of pretty eyes sitting steady on his form was enough to threaten a lapse in Craig’s concentration. 

Not that Kyle’s full attention did anything to him physically or emotionally. Although, Craig was certain that he’d never hear the end of it if he somehow managed to fuck this up.

Eventually his goal sat snug against the wall of the escape, leaving Craig with one final attempt to drag the little plushie out of its glass prison. He didn’t even spare Kyle so much as a glimpse as he lined up the claw, then pressed his hand down on the drop button and took a small step back.

It took a little bit of unwarranted plushie asphyxiation, but even Craig couldn’t resist a smile as he watched the penguin be picked up by the claw and fall through the chute with a loud celebratory hum. He moved to tug it away from the flap holding it in place, then turned back to Kyle. 

“Here.” He held the plushie out in the redhead’s direction, as if he was handing out an engagement ring instead of a stupid toy. “Now you owe me.”

Kyle blinked. It was the first time in quite a while Craig had seen him in complete and utter shock, and he had to admit that such raw emotion looked good on him.

Kyle reached out to take the plushie. And when he looked back up at Craig, it was as if every little beam of angelic neon light in the entire building got caught on the edges of his brilliant emerald irises. 

“Thank you. I… appreciate it.”

“No problem, I guess?” He didn’t mean to sound doubtful. Craig just really didn’t think it was all that surprising that he could display a bit of kindness every once in a while. 

Kyle took a moment to stare down at the plushie, clutching it close to his chest as he stared down at the top of its fluffy black head. It looked bigger in his arms than Craig had originally thought when he saw it in the machine, which was only more reassuring that putting himself out there like this was absolutely worth it.

“So… why a penguin?”

The question caused Kyle to look up again, smile much more genuine than before. “I don’t know, Craig. Why are you asking so many damn questions?”

Craig’s eyes narrowed, but his lips failed to resist twitching upwards into a playful smirk. “Don’t turn this around on me, asshole. I’m the reason the damn thing is in your possession now. I think I deserve to know.”

“So what?” Kyle simpered. “You think I owe you for doing something I didn’t even ask you to do?”

“Yes.”

The response was straightforward enough to pull a gentle laugh out of the man in front of him. His eyes almost seemed to sparkle as his positive mood from earlier returned in full force.

“I don’t know,” Kyle finally murmured after a moment of silent consideration. “I guess I just thought it looked like something a friend of mine would like.”

Stan, most definitely. That prick was almost always preaching some dumb conspiracy over marine life when he finally got the balls to say something to people’s faces. 

Craig made an effort to keep his expression as neutral as possible, but something must have clearly shown on his face. Kyle’s eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly as they looked at each other, and Craig almost felt the urge to start squirming under the scrutiny. Kyle had the unique ability of being able to pin someone in place with just a single look, and right now Craig may as well have been the prettiest of butterflies underneath his prominent stare.

Then, he held the plushie back out. Craig blinked once, but said nothing. 

“What?” Kyle shook the penguin in front of his face, extending his arm out further in Craig’s direction. “Take it.”

The hell? “Why?”

Kyle frowned. “C’mon, Tucker; you’re not a dumbass. I want you to have it. That’s why I’m giving it back to you.”

 Craig’s eyes narrowed as he tried to process the gesture in front of him. “Yeah, but… why? ”

“Jesus Christ, are you always this difficult? I literally just said I want to give it to you.”

Craig gave Kyle a look that he presumed was riddled with judgment, but took the plushie back anyway. He hadn’t noticed it before, but the thing was pretty soft to the touch.

He glanced down at the penguin, then back at Kyle, a silent question weighing heavy in his gaze. The redhead broke out into yet another smile at his own silent victory. “It’s yours now, dude. Just stop asking questions and enjoy it.”

“I just got this for you with your own money,” Craig pointed out drily. “Why are you acting like I’m the insane one for being confused about having it back?”

Kyle scoffed, but his expression hardly displayed any sense of irritation. “Yeah, my money. Which was still a huge dick move, by the way. If you don’t have your own card then we can just go get one; you don’t have to be an ass.”

The next few miuntes were a bit of a haze. Kyle started dragging him around the arcade, pointing things out and even attempting a few games while Craig watched and outwardly expressed his judgment at his lack of skill. It almost felt like a date, the way he would grab onto the sleeve of Craig’s jacket and pull him a certain way or aim a firm punch at his shoulder any time he said something particularly demeaning. 

In hindsight he really did wish he was paying more attention. But how could he think of anything else when he had proof of Kyle’s kindness right in the palm of his own hand?

It was just a dumb penguin. A token not even meant originally for him. But it was a gift, from Kyle, and Craig had to actively resist the urge to hold it close. He almost felt a little pathetic, with the way he immediately latched on to the dumb thing, but after a while he slowly lost the will to care. He instead chose to put more effort into willing away the flush he felt threatening to coat his tanned cheeks any time Kyle so much as looked at him or the plushie in his arm.

Not to mention he probably stole the dumb thing right out of Stan’s always eager grasp. That fact was much more satisfying than it probably should have been.

When Craig finally returned fully back to reality, he and Kyle were waltzing over to the cafeteria portion of the arcade. Their friends had texted about a designated meet up spot earlier in the day, and now that they were fresh out of credits it seemed like an easy enough decision to make their way back to the rest of the group.

Kyle made a particularly snarky comment as they walked towards the table where the rest of their friends sat, causing Craig to purposely bump into his shoulder with a glare that could hardly be considered genuinely angry. Kyle returned the gesture, laughing in a way that lit something within the confines of Craig’s chest, but he was quick to retaliate with a sharp nudge to the redhead’s ribs with his elbow. 

“Ow! You fucking dick, I didn’t even do anything!”

“It’s not my fault that you decided to open your big ass mouth.” Craig smirked, looking down at Kyle with plenty of unwarranted confidence. “Say some shit about my taste in music one more time and I promise I will actually kick your ass.”

Kyle huffed incredulously. “You unironically think The Beatles are better than Deftones. I’m just pointing out the fact that you are very clearly wrong. ”

“Says you. I listened to you bitch and moan about all five of the guys in Weezer for at least twenty minutes, I think you owe me.”

“Weezer only has four members, Craig.”

“Exactly. Your scrawny ass is obsessed.”

The sound of their friends’ shared laughter caused both of them to look over. Everyone was already situated at their designated table, nibbling at a few stray pieces of pizza or shoving each other out of the way as they scrambled to talk to someone across from them. When Craig and Kyle finally appeared in their prominent vision, Clyde jumped up from the table and went to greet them with a wide grin.

“Finally! You guys were taking forever. ” He gestured towards his now empty seat with a thumb. “I kept telling Tweek you guys were probably dead, but he wouldn’t listen to me.”

Craig’s expression twisted into something a bit more agitated as he glared down at his friend. “You were telling Tweek of all people that I was dead? Are you trying to freak him out on purpose?”

“No.” Clyde smiled brightly. “I can’t freak him out, he has his headphones in!”

A quick peek of his head to the side confirmed that fact. Why Tweek listened to obnoxiously loud music to calm himself down was beyond Craig’s understanding, but he’d accepted the blonde man for who he was a long time ago.

“Oh, are they back?” Tolkien looked up from the conversation he was having with Kenny, catching sight of the three of them before standing up and pulling himself away from the table. “Cool. We should probably go; I don’t want to get stuck in here after hours.”

“You think they’d keep us here?” Kenny snickered loudly. “We gave them all our money today anyways, tell them to stop being so greedy.”

Everyone else was quick to follow Tolkien’s lead, still chattering loudly as they gathered their things and started walking towards the door to the arcade. Craig was admittedly a little disappointed when Kyle pulled away from his spot at his side, but he didn’t give any notion outside of a small nod in his direction as he went. He did clutch the penguin at his side just a little tighter, though.

Craig watched everyone pile out of the building in one large group. When he moved to follow, though, he noticed a straggler waiting for him.

“Since when did you get so close to Kyle?” 

Jesus Christ. “Is there a problem with me having friends, Marsh?”

Stan stepped a few inches closer, eyes wide and filled with what had to be thinly veiled anger. “I don’t care what you do, asshole. I’m worried about whatever sick shit you’re whispering in my best friend’s ear to scare him off from the rest of us.”

Craig raised an eyebrow, his expression very clearly displaying his lack of interest. “If you actually think I’m becoming friends with Kyle just to get back at you, then you’re actually delusional.” 

“Then what other reason is there, asshole?! I see through this innocent shit you’re trying to pull right now, Tucker, so don’t think you’re smart.”

As Stan took another step forward, Craig got a much better look at the expression on his face. His pupils were dilated, so much so to the point where he almost felt uneasy just being around the shorter man, and his fists were evidently clenched at his sides as he gazed up at Craig.

He almost looked borderline insane , standing here in the dim light of what was supposed to be the brightly lit arcade.

“The hell are you on about, Marsh?” Craig stayed firm, blinking slowly and keeping his body language relaxed. “I’m allowed to be friends with your friends. Not everything is about you, believe it or not.”

Stan narrowed his eyes. Then, his attention averted to the penguin tucked comfortably at his side. 

“Where did you get that?”

Stan must have caught his hesitation. Because before Craig could recover, or even make an effort to respond, he moved even closer, reaching out to grab at the plushie. 

Craig recoiled backwards, twisting his body away from Stan to keep the penguin away from view. “Dude, what the fuck is your problem? Keep your hands away from my shit!”

“I knew it.” Stan’s voice was oddly calm. It was beginning to make his skin crawl. “Kyle gave that to you, huh? Figures; he’s always been pretty cool like that.”

Craig itched to respond, but any words he would have seemed to immediately die on his tongue as soon as they came. What the actual hell was going on right now?

“Look.” Stan straightened his back, shoulders set in a way that made up for any height difference between the two of them. “I don’t trust you. I don’t trust you, and whatever the fuck you’re trying to do to my best friend. You’re a shady ass guy, Tucker. You can hardly blame me for being paranoid.”

He could, actually. He really, really could. But he still chose to say nothing. 

Stan’s expression remained unchanged from that creepy, desolate stare as he spoke. “I’m not letting you take him away, you know. Kyle is my friend, not yours. He’s not yours to have, and if I have it my way, he never will be.”

“What the fuck, ” Craig muttered under his breath.

“Stay in your own lane, Craig. Don’t make either of us do something we’d regret.”

He smiled, then. A smile that would have been warm for anyone else, but was so painfully cold when directed at Craig. “For Kyle’s sake, right?”

Oh, he was actually insane. 

Craig didn’t even get a chance to respond. Stan nodded as if he did, though, shoving his hands in his pockets and walking away from where they both stood.

“See you later, dude. Hope you can join us for lunch at school tomorrow.” 

Craig neglected to move until Stan disappeared from view. Then, he exhaled sharply, the newly built up tension in his body leaving in one solid rush. 

Craig had always known Stan was a little odd over the topic of Kyle. Possessive, maybe, over the redhead thoroughly stuck to his side throughout their childhoods. But what in the absolute fuck was that? 

He couldn’t help but clutch the penguin tighter out of instinct. Maybe this was a sign he really needed to reconsider whatever he was actually getting himself into. 

Chapter Text

Was this just going to be a thing now? Did everyone and their mother plan on borderline threatening Craig until he either gave up or just shut down entirely?

Why everyone in Stan’s inner clique harbored the whole “holier than thou” mentality constantly was beyond him, because this was getting fucking ridiculous. 

“Dude. Another one? I’m not a snitch, but isn’t this kinda like harassment? You should probably tell somebody before whoever this is tries to murder you or something.”

A single piece of folded paper sat neatly at the bottom of Craig’s locker. It looked purely innocent, but he knew better by now.

When Craig reached out to grab the paper and slowly pulled it open, his suspicions were only confirmed; another stupid note, with a single threatening statement written out in hardly legible chicken scratch smack dab in the middle. He could feel his eyes begin to roll out of irritation at the display of pure idiocy in front of him.

“It’s fine, Clyde.” He crushed the paper against the palm of his hand, shoving it into his pocket to throw into a nearby trash can later. “Nobody’s going to kill me. It’s very clearly someone just wanting to get my attention.”

The brunette at his side waved his arms in the air, gesturing between Craig and his locker in sharp motions. “Obviously someone wants your attention!” He quipped, his eyebrows furrowed in genuine concern. “It’s like those true crime shows that Bebe watches– this is a literal paper trail. I’m actually worried someone’s gonna try and stab you in your sleep.”

Craig raised an eyebrow, turning away from the open face of his locker to face his friend fully. “You seriously think I’d let someone ‘stab me’ in my sleep?”

“I don’t really think that’s something anyone ‘lets’ happen, Craig.” 

In a rare display of exhibiting his limited intelligence, Clyde had a point. It had only been a week since his little “conversation” with Stan, and it didn’t even take 24 hours before he started retaliating against him. It was absolutely ridiculous, seeing as Craig hadn’t done shit, but whatever. Stan was very quickly beginning to prove he was hardly right in his own head.

Every day, in the morning and even occasionally after classes were over, something would be in his locker waiting for him. Whether it was a single shred of scribbled nonsense or a politely folded piece of thinly cut paper like the one left in his possession today, it was very blatant that someone was going out of their way to threaten him. The notes were unlabeled, meaning there was an attempt at being anonymous, but Craig knew better; there would be zero point in assuming anyone else was at fault.

For as long as Stan had flown under the radar, it was becoming pretty damn obvious how desperate he was to keep Kyle for himself. 

“...It’s fine,” He said again, a bit more subdued compared to his demeanor mere moments before. “I’m not dying, that’s ridiculous.”

Clyde frowned. “ s it ridiculous?”

To anyone else, absolutely. But, again, Craig knew better. 

To what lengths would Stan go for Kyle? It sounded like a dumb question on the surface, but now he really wanted to know. Needed to know, if these thinly veiled threats were anything to go by. Craig had never seen Stan as anything other than a drunken pussy; but now, his insinuations from the days before were starting to eat at that perception of him.

It was beginning to seem like Craig didn’t know as much as he thought he did. Not about Kyle– he was hardly worried about that– but rather, Stan. What did he get up to that made him so desperate to nip at his best friend’s heels for just a moment of undivided attention? He probably needed to find out if it meant getting the chance to keep Kyle close to his chest.

Granted, that meant he had to actively care about what Stan said and did. Unsurprisingly enough for him, that idea was far less appealing than it was when he projected that way of thinking onto Kyle.

Luckily, Stan was decently easy to watch. Craig already knew where he lived; for no reason other than the fact that they’d grown up together. That detail alone was more than enough to make this ever so slightly easier on his own mental health.

The progression was simple enough. Craig had already integrated himself into his friend group and even his daily life at this point, so keeping an eye on Stan didn’t take a lot of effort. He watched the other man closely over a short period, and early on he came to a conclusion; the guy was just downright lonely.

Everyone and their mom knew that Randy Marsh was downright insane. So when the time came for everyone in their class to enter high school, him kicking Stan and the rest of his family out of the farm was hardly a surprise. Sharon Marsh had attempted to move them back into their old home, but things were never quite the same. Within months Stan’s older sister married herself off at 18 to some Canadian tourist who then whisked her off to Vancouver, and his mom began desperately searching for a man who would actually take her seriously. And, as Craig now knew, that meant she was constantly out of the house, leaving her still young teenage son to his own devices.

And where did that leave Stan? All alone inside a perpetual state of loneliness and abandonment. Loser.

Craig concluded after what had to be the 5th day in a row of watching Stan leave his house with no maternal kindness in tow that his possessiveness over Kyle made sense. That didn’t mean he liked it, but it was definitely logical. The guy was alone constantly, and from what Craig could tell, it almost seemed like he was afraid of losing his friends even when they were right in front of him. Kyle had probably been a huge point of solace in the middle of his parents’ separation; no wonder he wanted to keep him so close.

The situation would probably be a lot more saddening to him if Stan wasn’t the one in the middle of it. Not to mention it was also a huge reason as to why he was trying to interfere with Craig and Kyle’s new blossoming relationship. 

Friendship. Craig chided himself silently as he continued to stroll down the sidewalk. What they had was a friendship, and a new one at that. Nothing more.

But what if there was more to it? More than he was allowing himself to see or even fully comprehend?

It was… an interesting prospect. Considering Craig had hardly been in a truly committed relationship since his mutual break up with Tweek in middle school, he hadn’t really given himself to think about romance much at all since then. He and Tweek had agreed that what they felt for each other was definitely love, but much more platonic than it was romantic, leaving them closer than ever. Where was there room for any kind of romance in that equation?

Granted, their break up had only been a couple years before he had grown interested in Kyle. There certainly wasn’t space for anything but him in Craig’s life at that point. 

What would a romantic relationship with Kyle even look like? He’d watched the redhead float from prospect to prospect throughout high school, but Craig knew for certain he’d never seen him in a long term relationship. Was it a choice, or just some kind of sick joke against the prettiest guy in South Park? Realistically he had no clue what he’d even begin to expect. 

Craig was pretty big on physical touch; always had been. He couldn’t help but wonder if Kyle was the kind of guy who would indulge him. 

Eventually any thoughts he still had about the redhead and the potential of what he’d feel like curled up against his side was forced to a halt. Stan had been sat comfortably in his peripheral throughout the time he’d taken to get caught up in his thoughts, but when Craig registered the sight of another person next to him, he froze. 

What the hell was it with Kyle and deviating from his schedule recently? It was actually starting to piss him off a little bit. 

It was as if he’d appeared out of absolutely nowhere. All Craig had to do was blink to confirm that the man of his observant affections now stood a few feet away, his side practically pressed against Stan’s as they began chattering about whatever they considered to be important at that moment. Craig hadn’t been able to catch the moment Stan lit up in the presence of his best friend, but the excitement that brightened his once dimly lit ocean blues was unmistakable. 

Craig thought carefully for a moment, hanging back behind a shadow-heavy tree and tapping his foot against the ground. He should probably get a little closer; just to see if they were talking about anything important. Losing out on viable information because of his own petty concerns could be detrimental to his end goal. If he missed out on hearing about Kyle’s next move because of the utter dickface that was Stan Marsh and his pitiful threats, then he’d probably be falling right into the asshole’s mouse trap.

Granted, Craig could only demean Stan in his head for so long. The moment he recalled the way the man’s eyes drained of all emotion right in the middle of the arcade, leaving behind nothing but dull, quiet adoration, he had no choice but to think of something else. 

He made his decision, but Craig still didn’t get a chance to move. The moment he shifted on his feet to try and get even an inch closer, Kyle reached forward, resting a hand on his friend’s shoulder and leaning in close as he spoke softly. The way Stan’s eyes widened and his pupils became about as big and brilliant as the night sky was laughable. 

But Craig didn’t laugh. Because why the hell was Kyle getting so close? What was so damn important that there needed to be yet another secret between the two of them?

Not to mention the little smile on the redhead’s face as he listened to Stan’s muttered response. Craig could register in the back of his mind that it was petty, but his first thought was that he despised that look being thrown in another man’s direction. Nothing was going on right now that would incline Kyle to be so damn happy, especially with Stan not even an inch away.

Craig turned on his heel and began walking in the other direction. Obtaining new information be damned; he was not about to sit here and watch them cozy up to each other in the middle of town. Nothing he could possibly need to know would be a fair exchange for watching Kyle grow so close to a man he was beginning to think was incredibly dangerous.

Following Stan around had been the absolute highlight of his damn day. But now that Craig was back at home and tangled comfortably underneath the sheets of his bed, he was beginning to realize that he had a really, really big problem.

That problem being that he physically could not get Kyle off of his mind. It was– actually a little pitiful, if he were to be entirely honest with himself.

It wasn’t Craig’s fault that the guy was effortlessly pretty all the time. Not to mention approachable, and charismatic, and so damn determined to do his best at everything he did. Craig knew himself to typically be turned off by people who tried way too hard, but naturally Kyle had become the exception. Now he couldn’t help but admire his diligence to get ahead in life, to do all of these impressive things and really make a name for himself out in the world while also helping others do better. 

Everything about the guy was attractive. For fuck’s sake, why was he so attractive?

One of the main issues Craig had with Kyle was that nothing about him was effortless. He put in work for everything, whether it be school, a month long part time job, or the hours it spent taming the bonfire of curls on top of his head as if it was some kind of wild animal, and oddly enough it was frustrating.

Maybe if Kyle was just effortlessly pretty, Craig’s life would be easier. But no; he actively tried. Wanted to try, even. And his effort shone through in pretty much everything he did. He tried, and he succeeded, and it was actually beginning to piss Craig off.

It was hardly a secret that Craig was, compared to Kyle, a horrendous underachiever. He just barely made it through school averaging a low C, and his GPA was really only saved by his natural interest in astronomy. Craig didn't try in much of anything, and science was no exception; he was just naturally good at it.

He attempted a couple of part time jobs, but all of them fell through rather seamlessly. He'd thrown a shot at the Hot Topic in their newly established local mall, but he didn't even last two weeks before he was let go for his “unattractive attitude.” Craig still thought it was a bit ridiculous to expect anything more from a place like Hot Topic , but it hardly mattered now. 

The point was that he didn't do anything. Craig didn't try, and while he succeeded when he did, the instances where he was motivated to do so were few and far between. And while he was fine with that for a while, his new revolving thoughts regarding Kyle were making him see things in a bit of a different light. 

He liked trying to get Kyle's attention. It was invigorating; fun, even, if he got what he wanted. Craig still didn't want to touch the topic of academic success with a ten foot pole, but that didn't mean he didn't want to try for something. He wanted to try for Kyle, whether that meant having him in his life permanently or just convincing him to stay in South Park.

Oh. That was the original goal, wasn't it? Craig had almost forgotten.

One thing he couldn’t seem to forget, though, was Kyle. And as Craig rolled onto his side, stuffed penguin tucked neatly against his chest, he tried to forget about his eyes, and his hair, and his smile, and the way he looked at the people he loved as if they hung every star in the damn sky–

–until he felt his phone vibrate from beneath him.

Craig's eyes shot open, and immediately he pulled the device from where it was stuffed between his hip and the mattress. He needed a distraction; literally anything to pull his mind away from the fire-headed prick who was probably sitting in his own bed a few blocks away. There was also a chance he was up and making lunch for his brother, too. They were both home alone today, after all.

When he opened his phone to check the notification, though, Craig couldn't help but let out an obnoxiously low groan at the sight of what it was; or rather who it was trying to get his attention. Of course Kyle was trying to talk to him right now; why wouldn't he be? It was beginning to feel as if he was the one being watched instead of the other way around. 

With another low, self-pitying sigh, Craig tapped on the waiting text message. Their texting thread was hardly impressive; just Kyle asking menial questions about homework for a shared class or even an occasional invite to a group event, and Craig responding with either a one sentence reply or a thumbs up. No wonder everyone thought he was boring.

“Hey, just letting you know Bebe's having an early grad party. You can come if you want”

“It's at her place, so there's gonna be plenty of alcohol if you're worried about getting bored. lol”

Craig furrowed his eyebrows, wondering why the hell Bebe was having a graduation party in the middle of March. Then he recalled that nothing that bitch did was entirely logical, and opted to move on.

“Sure”

Craig sent the message, then paused. His fingers hesitated very briefly over the keyboard, debating in his head whether or not he wanted to say anything more. After a brief deliberation, he typed out another message. 

“Will you be there?”

Why that simple message was so unbelievably nerve wrecking, he had no idea, but Craig still found himself anxiously waiting for a reply. When he finally got one about a minute or so later, he was glad no one else could see the way he immediately scrambled to unlock his phone. 

“Uh, yeah? I wouldn't invite you if I wasn't gonna be there dude.”

“Plus Tolkien and Clyde were already invited so you wouldn't be by yourself anyways”

Tolkien was invited by Kyle before him? That was a bit more irritating than Craig was willing to admit. 

After a few moments he reacted to Kyle's message with a single thumbs up, then moved to turn off his phone and roll onto his back. He couldn't name the last time he went to a party, especially willingly. Craig was beginning to want some kind of compensation for all the dumb shit Kyle was roping him into nowadays. 

But even still… parties were known for being both breeding grounds and a place to learn just a little too much about people you just met. Not only could Craig make an effort to spend time with Kyle; he could also try and gather just a bit more information on Stan. He highly doubted the guy was going to be sober for more than 3 seconds after he walked through that damn door. 

It was nice, having a plan, but now Craig had to decide what the hell to wear.

Chapter Text

“Craig! I think you’re– agh– really overthinking it, man! It’s just a dumb party, not your graduation ceremony!”

“Tweek.” Craig turned to look at the blonde, who sat curled up in the fetal position on top of his bed a few feet away. “You can’t tell me that this shade of blue goes with that red.” He pointed at the crimson top laying on the floor for emphasis.   

“I mean– I guess not?” The blonde twitched violently, muttering under his breath as he thrummed the tips of his fingers against his pant leg. “Jesus man, you’re– kinda gay as hell.”

Craig’s eyes narrowed. “You’re one to talk. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you cozying up to Clyde every time we go out with Kyle and his annoying ass friends.”

“What? ” Tweek shuddered from the raw emotion that caused his own voice to peak. “You’re crazy, man! I– hah– don’t have anything for Clyde! Why are you being so weird?”

Craig didn’t give an exact answer. Not due to the fact that he didn’t have one, but rather because he knew damn well the reason why he was being so defensive and he would rather die than admit it out loud. 

Tweek was right in the sense that it was, in fact, just a dumb party. But what the blonde neglected to know was that this was the first party Kyle had invited him to, and Craig was determined not to let him down in terms of showing up in something a bit more put together than his usual attire. Not to mention that his earlier texts insinuated that Kyle wasn’t going to leave Craig alone, and if that was the case, he didn’t mind putting in some extra effort to look good. 

Although, if the asshole got drunk and spilled rum and coke anywhere near his clothes, Craig couldn’t promise he’d respond as kindly as he probably should. He liked Kyle, but not to that extent. 

He liked Kyle, which was probably why he was still sorting through his closet to find something to wear ten minutes before they had to leave. 

“Craig.” Tweek’s harsh chatter had now been exchanged for an exasperated huff. Craig knew the change in tone well; it meant he was reaching the end of his already limited patience. 

“Just– here.” The blonde tossed the navy sweatshirt next to him on the bed in Craig’s direction, who caught the article of clothing with ease. “Wear that, and then– and then those black jeans on the hanger right there. That should– look okay.”

Craig glanced over to the jeans in question, then nodded slowly. “...Okay.”

“Good.” Tweek shivered. “Your pacing was giving me the creeps, man. Now hurry up.”

Craig made sure to do as he was told. And once he stood in front of his bathroom mirror, combing his hair into some semblance of effort and getting a good look at his own appearance, he had to admit that Tweek definitely knew what he was talking about in terms of making Craig look good.

Once he was ready and Tweek was done tearing into his family’s supply of teddy bear grahams, the two escaped out of the house and into the front two seats of Craig’s car. Clyde and the rest of their friends had offered to carpool, but Craig had declared he’d much rather drive himself in the case that he got bored and decided he wanted to leave. Tweek had been quick to volunteer to come with him.

As Craig put the car in drive and took off on the road that led to Bebe’s new home, he couldn’t help but take notice of the deafening silence that suffocated the air between them. Tweek was being awfully quiet, in a way that was so starkly unlike him it was starting to make even Craig a little bit nervous. 

He hesitated for a few moments before deciding to speak up. “Why are you coming with us?”

Tweek’s gaze flitted over to where Craig sat, his hands sat comfortably on top of the steering wheel. “What?”

“The party,” Craig muttered. “Why are you coming with us to this ‘dumb party’? You hate big events like this.” Especially if there might be party culture involved, he added silently.

Tweek was silent for a few seconds. Eventually he let out a low sigh, leaning back against the dim leather of his car seat. “I– dunno what you want me to say, man. I wanna spend t-time with my friends. It feels like I can’t really– hah– get you alone anymore.” 

Craig tilted his head to the side. “Why?”

“Because!” Tweek threw his hands into the air. It was the first time Craig had seen him genuinely frustrated in what felt like months. “It’s like Stan and Kyle and– and everyone else just can’t get off our backs! Seriously, why do we have to go to absolutely everything they want to do? It’s– ridiculous!”

“And it’s– it’s like you don’t even care! You just go along with it, man, and it pisses me off! What happened to– to you, and me, and Clyde and Jimmy and Tolkien just all being together? I hate change, man, it’s so– ugh!”

Craig hesitated for the briefest of moments. Then, he put a hand on his friend’s shoulder, keeping his eyes on the road without saying a word. 

It was almost like Tweek deflated under his touch. The blonde sighed again, sinking into his seat and shielding his face with his hands. “I don’t know,” He muttered after a moment. “I just– I feel like I’m losing you, Craig. We agreed that– that when we broke up, that we’d stay friends, and we’d still hang out together. And this– whatever this has been– isn’t that.”

“I just… don’t want you to leave us for them. Or– any of you, for that matter. I don’t want to lose all of my friends just because none of us can say no to them.”

Craig nodded, but still didn’t speak. He had… absolutely no idea Tweek felt that way.

“...Well.” Craig cleared his throat, trying to maintain his typical dull tone without the inner workings of guilt he felt crawling up his throat. “You’re not gonna lose us, Tweek. Stan and the rest of them could keel over and die tomorrow, and I’d be soooo happy.”

Tweek huffed in what sounded like an attempt at laughter. “You’re an idiot for continuing to make that joke after so long, Craig.”

“Not a joke, but sure. Point is–” Craig finally glanced over, trying to meet Tweek’s eyes as he paused at a stop sign. The two made eye contact, and Craig was sure to squeeze his shoulder ever so slightly. “You and I are always going to be together. Romantic, platonic, whatever the hell. I don’t care. I’m not going anywhere, man.”

Tweek blinked. Then, he nodded slowly, as if he was trying to process Craig’s words in bite sized pieces. Eventually his expression shifted into a jittery smile, and Craig could feel the corners of his own lips threatening to twitch upwards.

“Yeah, I guess,” Tweek muttered. “Cause if you– hah– end up with your tongue down Stan’s throat by the end of the night, I– I might tell Tolkien to send you to his therapist.”

“Hell no.” Craig would rather swallow fistfuls of glass.  

Eventually Craig pulled into an empty space about a block away from Bebe’s house, enabling him and Tweek to hop out of the car and begin walking towards their destination. It was common knowledge that Bebe’s parents had gotten divorced when they were younger, but the girl had hardly ever seemed bothered by it. Especially when her mom got remarried to an even richer man and bought them all the nicest house in South Park aside from Tolkien’s.

The place was convenient for parties, but less so for wanting a bit of space. It didn’t take more than a few moments after Tweek and Craig walked through the front door to be smothered by people, the smell of polished alcohol following them throughout the building as they fought through the throng of already drunk teenagers. 

“Jesus! Did she invite the whole town or something?” Tweek’s bitter comment could be heard even over the obnoxious bubblegum pop playing from some kind of speaker in the building, and Craig was inclined to agree.

The two ended up taking each other’s hands in an effort not to get separated, pushing and pulling between groups of warm bodies until they finally made it into the kitchen. There stood people they finally recognized, and Craig huffed a barely audible sigh of relief as they made their way over to greet them.

Kenny and Wendy were tucked into the corner of the room, the former sat comfortably on top of the counter as they murmured softly to each other. Craig immediately assumed it was something intimate or even private, seeing as when he and Kenny made eye contact the blonde simply dipped his head in greeting before turning back to the woman in front of him. 

Craig hardly had enough time to be offended by the lack of proper acknowledgement, though, because the moment they stepped through the doorway he and Tweek were assaulted by the raw puppy dog prowess that was Clyde Donovan and a few hard lemonades. 

“Craig! My man!” Clyde was quick to lean across the other man’s shoulder, drink still half full in his hand as he slurred his barely legible words. “You’re late! I thought you weren’t gonna… show up!”

Craig’s expression only hardened with his newfound sense of irritation. “I’m not late, Clyde. You asked me to be here at 10. It’s 10:03.”

“Yeah! Late!”

Craig opened his mouth to say more, but paused when he felt the shorter man next to him shift. The look in Tweek’s eyes was indescribable as he gazed at Clyde, but Craig was smart enough to pick up on the gentle sparks of endearment in those eyes he knew so painfully well.

“C’mon, man. Let’s go– sit down, or something.” Tweek peeled Clyde away from his friend’s shoulder, wrapping an arm around his waist and beginning to walk off into the throng of the party. Clyde wiggled and whined the entire way as they went, but eventually he gave up and slumped over in the blonde’s frail grasp. How Tweek was able to stay standing with all that weight pressed into his side, Craig honestly had no idea. 

Now, though, he was left alone. Kenny and Wendy were still talking quietly in the corner, but without any of his typical friend group to bounce off of, Craig was a little reluctant to try and include himself in the conversation. Instead, he chose to buy himself by making a drink. Both Clyde and Tolkien had a habit of complimenting his mixing skills; he had to be doing something right

 Not to mention he despised any kind of alcohol that was canned. Craig made sure to pointedly avoid anything on that side of the table as he continued to work at his new concoction. 

Once he was sat leaning against the counter and sipping a rather clean rum and coke, Craig was able to turn his focus onto something a bit more interesting; Kyle. The man had promised he wouldn’t leave him alone tonight, but Craig doubted he even knew he was here. 

That left him with a couple of options. He could go make an effort to meet up with Kyle and spend time with him throughout the rest of the night; or, he could just watch him walk around. Dig for a little bit of information, even. Loose lips were pretty damn common around these kinds of parties. 

As soon as the thought crossed his mind, though, Craig could feel himself grimace. If he wanted to make any progress on keeping Kyle around, he should probably actually try and talk to the guy. This weekend marked a month of Craig trying to properly befriend him; he was, already, running out of time.

Mind made up, Craig threw back the rest of his drink, brushing his lips clean of any spare drops with the sleeve of his sweatshirt before tossing the cup in the trash and walking out of the kitchen. As he went, Craig could feel a pair of eyes weighing down on his back, and he felt the urge to flip off the pair of cerulean blues he knew were watching him leave. 

Finding Kyle should have been an easy task. The guy was decently loud and easily attention grabbing; for Craig, at least. Picking him out of the crowd would hardly be difficult.

At least, that’s what he assumed, until about ten minutes had passed and the redhead was nowhere to be found. Craig’s eye twitched as he rounded the corner of the living room for what felt like the third time and was still left completely empty handed. If the asshole was avoiding him on purpose, then there would be more to talk about in the future than him and his clingy ass boy-best-friend. 

Even still, Craig knew it was probably time to admit defeat and ask for help. With a low sigh, he abandoned his spot next to the doorway and walked over to the center of the room. There, a group of people were playing some kind of board game; as he got a little closer, Craig recognized it as Monopoly. Odd, considering he couldn’t recall a stripping version of that game, but that’s what everyone around him seemed to be interested in.

The object of his reluctant interest was, of course, the one wearing the least amount of clothes. It was hardly difficult for Craig to keep his gaze at eye level as he approached the curly headed blonde on the floor and tapped her on the shoulder. 

“Oh, Craig!” Bebe turned to look up at him from her spot on the ground, eyes suddenly alight with interest when she realized who was trying to get her attention. She abandoned the game for a moment, rising to her feet with a chorus of disappointed groans from the men and women surrounding the board with her, but Craig hardly found it within himself to care when she stood up to meet him with a sugary smile. “What’s up, sweetheart? I wasn’t expecting you here.”

“I wasn’t expecting to be here,” Craig retorted. “Have you seen Kyle? I need to talk to him about something.”

“Kyle?” Bebe raised an eyebrow. “Last I saw he was outside by the fire pit with Stan.” The simultaneous eye roll they both shared at the sound of the man’s name brought Craig a mild sense of camaraderie. 

“If you find him, though, make sure to keep both him and his golden retriever away from me.” Bebe rested a hand on her hip, her delicate expression shifting into something much more annoyed. “Stan basically begged me to hold this party. Said he wanted to celebrate everyone finally getting up and out of South Park, apparently.”

“I thought the whole thing was pretty dumb; we don’t graduate until May. I think he just wants an excuse to drink or something.”

Craig narrowed his eyes. Why would Stan be so desperate to hold a party in the middle of the semester? And why did Kyle even agree to come in the first place?

“Right.” Craig dipped his head once. “Thanks. I’ll keep them far away from you, then.”

“You better.” Bebe shook her head. “Don’t get yourself all roped into their bullshit, Craig. You’re too good for whatever's been going on with them lately.” 

It was far too late for that, Craig thought. But he simply nodded again before turning on his heel and walking away. 

Finally, with an actual proper lead, it hardly took any time at all for Craig to catch sight of that familiar head of curly red hair the moment he stepped outside. Stan was, of course, still sitting next to him as they lounged together in front of the fire, but if Craig were to be honest, he was far too distracted by the sight of Kyle’s eyes lit up by the gentle glow of the flames in front of him to really care. 

Once he landed his eyes on them properly, though, Craig hesitated. There was no chance in hell Stan was just going to let him talk to Kyle; the guy was way too damn crazy for that. So then what was the point of even making an effort? 

He hardly had a chance to think about it, though. Because the moment Craig made a move to walk away, Kyle’s eyes landed on where he stood on top of the patio to the house behind him, and any resignations he may have had completely faded away.

Kyle waved his hand for him to join them at the fire pit. Craig obeyed with little to no argument. 

Stan hardly seemed pleased by his arrival, judging by the way his eyebrows furrowed directly in the middle of his face. But if Kyle noticed the change in his friend’s demeanor, he didn’t comment on it. Instead, when Craig was a little less than a few feet away, he smiled up at him and tilted his head to the side in what could only be described as a curious kitten kind of way.

“Hey, Craig! I actually thought you weren’t gonna show up.”

Craig rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. “You were just so nice to ask me to come out here tonight, Broflovski. I could hardly resist the invitation.” He hoped the words he heavily doused in sarcasm were rolling off his tongue like how he wanted them to.

Kyle smiled mischievously, resting his head in the palm of his hand. “I didn’t realize I was so hard to say ‘no’ to, Tucker. ”

You have absolutely no idea.

Kyle then took a moment to glance up and down, eyes raking over Craig’s body not dissimilar to some kind of gentle predator. “You look nice,” He said simply, as if he wasn’t checking him out in front of best friend who hated his damn guts.

“...Thanks.” The confusion in his voice was palpable, but Kyle was quick to laugh it off. 

“No problem.” He then gestured to the closest empty chair next to him. “You can hang out with us, if you want. Stan was just telling me some kind of dumb story about a rabbit trying to follow him home from school and almost getting hit by a car.”

“It’s not stupid, dude!” Stan finally spoke up, eyes wide as he looked at Kyle with what seemed to be numerous layers of betrayal. “That driver was a dumbass, he was gonna run the poor thing over! It’s not my fault he wasn’t paying attention.”

“Right.” Kyle’s smile was rather patronizing, but fond as he gazed at Stan. “Definitely not your fault that you almost died saving an animal that probably bit you anyways.”

Stan’s gaze fell to the ground beneath them. “It didn’t hurt that bad,” He mumbled, earning himself a soft laugh from the man next to him.

“Well, anyway.” Stan rose from his chair, sparing the smallest of glances at Craig before looking back at Kyle. “I’m going inside, dude; it’s getting cold as hell out here, and I need to find Kenny before he smacks things up with Wendy.”

He nudged the cup in Kyle’s hand out of his grasp, replacing it with his own bitter seltzer. “You can take my stuff. I really don’t need to be drinking anymore anyways.”

Kyle looked a little disappointed, but didn’t argue. He happily took the drink his friend offered him, looking a little confused at the amount of weight still left in the can, before giving Stan a small wave as he walked away. Craig watched him go, and the two made eye contact for the briefest of moments before Stan pulled away. Craig forced himself to blatantly ignore the chill that ran up his spine. 

With Stan gone, though, slipping into conversation with Kyle was hardly difficult. Now that the two had spent some time together, it was almost like the redhead knew exactly what to talk to him about. They had some pretty similar interests and things they wanted to go over, discussing certain kinds of cars before Craig was sent off on a rant about NASA and their usage of fossil fuels. It was… nice.

Kyle was nice. Why he was even still entertaining him, Craig had no idea, but he’d been lying if he said he didn’t enjoy the attention.

Although, while they knew each other well enough to keep each other engaged in a single conversation, Craig also knew Kyle well enough to tell when he stopped paying attention to the world entirely. 

It was after he had to repeat what he said for the third time in a row that Craig began to grow even more heavily concerned. Kyle was still conscious, but his typically brilliant green eyes were glazed over, as if somebody had painted over them with some kind of foggy sickness. His head was tilted slightly to the side, and when he tried to make an effort to respond to what the man across from him was saying, the redhead spilled the rest of the drink in his hands onto the ground next to him.

Craig hesitated. He’d stopped talking about thirty seconds ago, trying to tell if Kyle was just tired or even drunk, but now he was just plain worried. “Kyle?”

“Hey, Craig?...” The redhead slurred, standing up shakily from his seat and causing Craig to immediately do the same. “I don’t… I don’t feel too great.”

Oh, fuck. Craig hadn’t been watching him much at all today; far too worried about the party to concern himself too much with watching over Kyle for a few hours. Had he eaten something to make him sick?

Kyle tried to speak again, but the words that left his lips were nothing more than unintelligible murmurs. He took a single step forward, but very quickly lost his sense of balance and ended up falling directly into Craig’s chest.

“Hey, woah– Kyle?” Any warmth or anxiety Craig may have felt over this amount of physical contact was completely and utterly overshadowed. He wrapped his arm around the redhead’s upper back, trying to keep him steady as his eyes flitted across every inch of his face. “What’s wrong? You gotta tell me what’s wrong, honey.”

“I…” Kyle blinked, his eyes now fully half-lidded. “I don’t… know.”

“Goddamnit–” Craig turned his head, catching the sight of a nearby freshman who was very clearly not supposed to be there. He snapped his fingers at the poor kid, still holding onto Kyle with his other arm, then pointed towards the house when he caught the guy’s attention.

“You. You’re part of the football team, right? You know Marsh?”

It was a purely random assumption, but the kid nodded rapidly under Craig’s icy stare.

“Go find him.”

Craig turned back to the man in his arms as the freshman ran off. Kyle’s breathing was growing the tiniest bit shallow now, and his anxiety was only spiking with every little movement or twitch of his eyelids.

“Where the hell am I…?” The redhead murmured, and Craig’s eyes only grew wider. 

“What the hell are you talking about? The fuck happened to you, Kyle?”

The man in question didn’t respond. Rather, he slumped more of his weight against Craig, resting his cheek on his chest and exhaling softly. 

A cascade of chills rolled over Craig’s skin. Before he could try and figure out what to do, though, the sliding glass door to the patio slammed open. Everyone in the backyard turned at the sound of the noise, but Craig only had eyes for the man who raced through the empty space. Stan’s gaze was quick as it swept the area before landing on him and Kyle, and immediately he ran over to where they stood.

“What’s wrong? What happened to him?”

“I– I don’t know,” Craig stammered in a rare display of fear. “He was fine about two seconds ago–”

“Let me take a look at him.” Stan practically tore Kyle out of his grasp, taking his hand in his own and leading him an inch or two away. Craig turned his head ever so slightly to catch sight of the crowd now gathering around them, and when he looked over to the now open glass doorway, he could see who he believed to be Tweek and Jimmy watching the spectacle from a few feet away. “Ky? Ky, hey, what’s wrong?”

“Dunno,” was Kyle’s semi-verbal response. “Was just… a little thirsty.”

“Thirsty?” Stan repeated. He glanced over at where Kyle had been sitting mere minutes ago, eyes landing firmly on the now spilled can of seltzer on the ground next to his chair. When he turned to look back at Craig, the fire in his eyes was beginning to border on wild. 

“Dude, what the fuck?” Stan’s voice grew louder, catching the attention of everyone nearby as he spoke. “Craig– did you drug Kyle?”

Craig froze. “What?”

Chapter Text

“I knew it. I knew you were trying to get up to some weird ass shit with him!”

What the hell is happening. 

“Are you crazy? ” Craig somehow recognized Tweek’s voice through his petrified haze. “Craig would never do some shit like that! What the hell is wrong with your head, Stan?”

“What’s wrong with you, huh?” Stan tucked Kyle’s body closer to him, pointing wildly between Tweek and Craig as if the entire situation was some kind of deranged court case. “I left them alone for five goddamn minutes, and now Kyle’s high off his ass! How do you explain that?”

Craig was absolutely still. He could feel the comforting presence of his friends as Tweek, then Jimmy, and who he assumed to be Clyde grouped together to stand by his side, but he still couldn’t move. He was frozen; locked in a state of accusatory stone.

Something was wrong with Kyle. Something horribly, horribly wrong. And he was the one being accused of causing it.

“You’re acting a bit irrational, Stan.” The voice that rang through the air next confirmed that the hand now resting on his shoulder was Tolkien’s. “I don’t care what differences you and Craig may have, but he wouldn’t hurt Kyle like that just to get a rise out of you. Or anyone, for that matter.”

“What matters,” he insisted, “is getting him to a hospital. If he does have something in his system, it needs to be flushed out before he seriously gets hurt.”

“No.” Stan moved to wrap his arms further around Kyle, acting as a kind of protective shield from everyone surrounding them. “You sons of bitches are protecting him! Why would I ever let Kyle go with you by himself?”

“I didn’t say you couldn’t come with us, Stan.” Tolkien’s voice was tense; almost as if he was close to snapping. It was unlike anything Craig had ever heard before. “He needs help. I can drive us all if we need, but I’m telling you, he could get really sick if we don’t do something.”

This entire thing was so painfully crazy. 

Stan was fucking crazy . It was absolutely insane to accuse him of hurting Kyle in the first place; but drugs? Why was that the first thing on this weird ass guy's mind? 

His mind was working so fast, and yet so slowly he couldn't even begin to process how this possibly could've happened. 

“He's already sick!” Stan insisted. “If anyone's taking him to the hospital, it's gonna be me. I can't trust you sons of bitches around him, who knows what you'd–”

“...No.” The sound of Kyle's voice broke through the apprehension in the air, causing both Craig and Stan to snap out of their imposed trances. “No– no hospital.”

“Kyle…” Stan's voice was soft as he leaned over to inspect his friend. “It’s okay, dude. You don’t have to feel like this anymore. I can take you to urgent care, and they’ll make you feel better. Then we can–”

“Craig.”

The man in question snapped to attention. Kyle was still swaying on his feet, weight partially leaning onto Stan as he struggled to stay standing, but his eyes were oddly focused as they latched onto Craig.

Then, Kyle began to stumble. He pulled away from the man next to him, ignoring Stan’s indignant whines as he started to walk towards Craig. He looked frail, like a leaf threatening to blow away in the lightest of winds, and Craig could hardly stop himself from stepping forward and allowing Kyle to fall right into his open arms when his knees inevitably gave out from the strain.

“Kyle…” The utterance of the redhead’s name escaped Craig’s lips in a quiet murmur as he fought desperately to keep himself together. He could feel the heavy weight of eyes dragging down his and Kyle’s backs as they tried to assess why the hell he was preferring him over Stan in this moment, but all Craig could really focus on was the warmth and soothing comfort shared between them as he moved his hand upwards to cup the back of the other man’s head. “Hey, you’re fine. I’ve got you.”

“What the hell?” When Craig looked back up at the sound of another person’s voice, he was met with a fire unlike anything he’d ever seen alight in the irises of Stan’s eyes. “What the fuck did you do to him, Craig? Is this– did you feed him pheromones or some shit?”

Craig found himself regaining the ability to form words at the sheer stupidity of that statement alone. “Are you high off your ass, Marsh? I didn’t do shit; I don’t know why you’re assuming it was me who pulled this.”

As Stan began to bark back, Craig swore to every God ever brought into existence that he felt Kyle nuzzle into the fabric of his damn sweater. That action alone was nearly enough to shatter his train of thought completely. 

“Don’t pull that stupid ass shit on me, Craig. I left you two alone– I know for a fact you were the last one with him! How else would you try to explain this?”

The issue was that Craig had zero fucking clue what had happened in the first place. They had been talking for twenty minutes with no issues before Kyle had started feeling off, and neither of them hardly felt the need to refill their drinks. Craig had long since decided he was done for the night, and Kyle had been content taking sips of Stan’s abandoned seltzer–

Oh. Oh, fuck. 

“Craig.” The voice that ghosted by the empty space of his ear nearly caused Craig to jump. When he turned to look at the source, he was met with a now somber Bebe; who, luckily, was now fully clothed.

“Why don’t you take him up to my room for a bit? Let him rest?” Her signature smile was set firmly in place, but Craig could feel a spark of indignation bubbling up in his chest when he saw the suspicious look in her eyes. “It’s the third door on the left. Can’t miss it, honestly.”

Stan practically choked on his own tongue from where he stood a few feet away. “Are you fucking insane? We can’t leave them together! Craig already fucked him up, imagine what else he could do if they were actually alon–”

A soft whine emanated through the air. Kyle seemed to try and hide his face in Craig’s sweater, cowering away from Stan’s booming voice as if it was physically hurting him to stand so close by. Craig would honestly believe that to be the case, considering the other man’s voice– and his desperation– were only getting louder and louder with every word he spoke. 

“Stan, baby.” Bebe spoke up again, her voice smooth as silk as she directed her attention elsewhere. “Just leave it, okay? Kyle very clearly wants him to stick around, and honestly, the more you yell, the more you kill my motivation to drink till I die young.”

Craig was under the assumption that it was very clear she was trying to make a joke, but the murmurs of agreement from the crowd surrounding them was enough to blatantly piss him off. How could nobody else see it? Stan was very clearly volatile when it came to Kyle being hurt; dangerous, even. There was absolutely no way in hell Craig was going to let him get away with this. He was not going to get away with causing Kyle pain .

Stan was practically feral as Craig and Kyle began to walk away, to the point where Clyde and another member of the football team had to physically hold him back to keep him from following. Craig resisted the urge to throw him some kind of smug or crude gesture, which was hardly difficult considering Kyle was basically melting into him and struggling to stay upright at his side. His attention was easily directed elsewhere. 

Bebe was kind enough to lead them to her aforementioned room, but the threatening glare he was given as she happily chattered about “being right next door” left Craig feeling a little uneasy. Even still, when the door was closed and the two were shrouded in the reflection of delicate pink swatches and gentle moonlight, he couldn’t help but dismiss the odd encounter as he turned to face Kyle directly.

The redhead still looked sick. Woozy, to a point, continuing to sway and staring up at Craig with cloudy green eyes. But he was still so damn gorgeous, and Craig was beginning to wonder why no one had snatched him up sooner.

“‘M tired,” Kyle murmured after a moment. “Can we lay down? Please?”

Craig blinked, his heart stuttering in his chest. “Oh– yeah, of course. You don’t have to ask, Kyle, Jesus Christ.”

The implications of the word “we” left him feeling much more warm than he was willing to admit. But Craig kept himself together well enough to lead Kyle over to the plushy pink bed sitting in the room, allowing him a moment to curl up on the mattress before pulling the covers up and over his lithe body. The clothes he was wearing couldn’t be all that comfortable for sleeping in, but there wasn’t much he could do about that now.

 “Kyle.” The redhead repeated his own name like the sweetest of honeys was dripping off his tongue. “I like when you say my name. My actual name.”

“Makes me feel like… like you actually care, or something. About… me.”

Craig was certain he was going to explode before the night was over. 

“...You don’t mean that,” was his uttered reply as he moved to sit at the edge of the bed. “You don’t want me to care about you, so just– shut up and go to bed.”

Kyle emitted a sound that sounded almost like a growl. His eyes were squeezed shut, but the sheets beneath him were now curled between freckled fists and his eyebrows were furrowed with the finest of stress lines. 

Hot… and cold,” He muttered. “‘M hot and I’m cold.”

Craig hesitated. He would be first to admit he had no clue how to deal with this kind of situation; figuring out how to flush drugs from someone’s system wasn’t quite his specialty. But Kyle didn’t really seem like he wanted to move anymore, and if Craig looked close enough he could catch the beginnings of pained tears pricking the corners of his eyes as he practically wrestled with the blanket covering his body. 

Kyle was hurt, his brain reminded him. Go to him.

So he did. Craig peeled his shoes off his feet, then slowly but surely moved to settle himself in the bed next to Kyle. He almost felt dirty, moving closer to the redhead as he whimpered and squirmed like some kind of wilting flower. He didn’t want to take advantage of Kyle in any capacity, and this certainly felt like crossing some sort of line. Not to mention the effect Kyle was having on his body just by being in such close proximity. 

But Craig hardly even had a chance to regret his course of actions. Because the moment he was settled in next to Kyle, the other man practically curled into his side, tucking his head into the crook of his shoulder and breathing in Craig’s scent as if he’d been dying from lack of oxygen. The sigh of relief Kyle let brush against the skin of his neck caused every muscle in his body to grow rigid. 

Don’t move. For the love of all that is fucking holy, do not move–

“You’re so warm… it’s too nice.”

Eventually Kyle settled down, now seeming much more content with someone laying next to him. His breathing quickly became steady, and as his consciousness slowly drifted away, Craig was forced to lay on his back with what could only be considered to be a damn vixen curled up against him. There was absolutely no way in hell Kyle didn’t know what his words did to him; how they made him feel .

Now that he was asleep, though, Craig was forced to begin to think. And what he thought was that Stan was an absolute freak. 

How the hell did he pull it off? The crazy motherfucker set up an entire party just to set Craig up; not to mention his victim of choice being Kyle himself. Craig had been sitting with them the whole damn time; surely he would’ve seen him put something in Kyle’s drink before he left.

But he hadn’t been there the whole time, was he? He and Tweek had technically been late to the party, meaning Stan had all the time in the world to ensure Kyle would get roped into some grapple for territory he wasn’t even aware was happening. And as Craig continued to think, his foggy recollection of the night reminded him that Stan hadn’t so much as taken a single sip of his seltzer once Craig had sat down with him and Kyle.

Kyle.

Just the thought of the redhead’s name caused something in Craig to constrict. The arm that was currently being pinned against the other man’s body moved to wrap itself around his waist, with Craig rotating to match the change in position and laying on his side. He tucked Kyle closer to his chest with his arm, then finally wrapped it around his back and held him as close as humanly possible. 

Stan had hurt Kyle just to prove some kind of point. The sick son of a bitch attacked his own friend just for the sake of– what? Getting Craig shunned? Arrested, even? They were all adults now; there was no way in Hell handing out roofies wasn’t bound to get him thrown in some kind of jail cell.

But none of that really mattered, did it? The truth was that Stan had hurt Kyle, without the redhead’s knowledge, and he’d gotten away with it. Not to mention Craig now had a target on his back regardless of what those close to him knew about him.

What he didn’t understand was how anyone could believe he’d do anything like what Stan propositioned. Craig would absolutely never hurt Kyle; wouldn’t dream of it, even. All he wanted was to keep him close, maybe even hold him like what he was doing now. Why would he want to injure this man in any way? Especially with drugs ? The whole thing was so fucking outrageous.

Was it Craig’s fault?

The thought struck him like a lightning bolt to the chest. Had Kyle been harmed because of him ?

…No. No, this couldn’t be his fault– would never, ever be his fault. How could Craig blame himself when the evidence was right in front of his face?

Stan had hurt Kyle. That much was clear. Now Craig just had to decide what he wanted to do about it.

Craig’s arms tightened around Kyle in a silent promise. “I’ll protect you,” he murmured, his voice so quiet it was hardly more than a silent breath. “No one will ever hurt you again.”

The way Kyle sighed in his sleep made him believe that, somehow, he heard him loud and clear.

Craig knew that, realistically, he probably should have realized how many people cared about what Stan had to say. But what he didn’t expect was to be physically shunned for the rumors being spread around after that dumbass party. 

The one beautiful thing about South Park, in Craig’s opinion, was that everyone was easy to read. Gathering people’s opinions on something was as easy as slicing through butter, mostly because of how eager they were to share them. And while typically that kind of habit would benefit him, now it just felt like rubbing the most bitter of salt into his already open wound. 

The distaste on everyone’s face was obvious. So painfully so. Craig could hardly so much as walk down the hall without being hit over the head with harsh stares and whispered hisses about him and his sudden interest in roofies. His classmates were so silent with their hate that it was loud, and it was exhausting from the moment he stepped through the front door of this idiotic school. 

It was astonishing how many people seemed to believe Stan’s tall tale. Did they all really think he’d go as far as to drug Kyle, or anyone for that matter, just to get a rise out of someone? Was his reputation really that faulty?

Or maybe they were being told something else. Something more along the lines of him and his new infatuation. Craig couldn’t resist a shiver at the thought of his thoughts towards Kyle being exposed to so many people. 

Either way, he knew he had to do something. Letting Stan run his mouth around the whole school meant his plan going forward would have to be much more complicated. Craig could hardly get closer to Kyle if people like Wendy and Bebe suspected him of doing something he shouldn’t have. Especially something drastic.

After a while of careful deliberation, Craig came up with a plan. He’d been able to follow Stan without getting caught before; he’d just have to do it again.  

“This shit is so dumb!”

Clyde’s obnoxiously loud profanity caused Craig to snap out of his thoughtful reverie. The two sat under their familiar long winded oak tree next to the football field, surrounded by the rest of their friends as they picked at their respective lunches. Tweek had muttered something about not wanting to deal with the pressure of the rest of their classmates as they all met up to eat in the cafeteria for lunch, and everyone was quick to agree. 

It wasn’t like they didn’t end up eating lunch out here often anyways. Although, the air around them felt more charged, as if there was something heavier than gravity weighing down on their shoulders as they sat around each other. It was definitely uncomfortable, but Craig didn’t expect anything less. Not only had Stan been spreading rumors about him after the party, but he was also pretty sure over half of the student body had been attending anyway. Opinions had been formed about him and Kyle before he even had a chance to get out of bed this morning.

While the rest of his friends seemed hesitant to address it, Clyde was happy to share his own opinion on the matter. “Why would Craig ever do that to someone? Especially to Kyle; he’s such a cool dude!”

“People at this school are– k-k-k-kinda– douchebags,” Jimmy responded, his smile lazy and almost unbothered. “They’ll believe anythin’ you tell ‘em!”

“Which is, like I said, dumb!” Clyde hissed. “Putting stuff in people’s drinks is so dangerous and– and serious! Why are we all just believing this dumb idea just because Stan said so?”

“In fact! Why is Stan the one spreading this around? Don’t get me wrong, I love the dude, but it’s so weird that he’s just going along with this! What if there’s a deeper issue? Or– what if he just has the wrong guy?”

It almost felt like Clyde had sparked some kind of new strand of intelligence. Almost.

“Well– he was the one who saw them last,” Jimmy supplied, ever so happy to play devil’s advocate. “I wouldn’t be– s-s-sur-surprised that Stan’s the one going around talking.”

Craig couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Clyde so genuinely upset. His friend was very obviously angry, but there was also a deep sadness residing somewhere deep beneath his tone. Craig assumed he was hurting because Craig was hurting, and the thought made his high strung apprehension towards the situation grow just a little bit softer.

“It’s just– so stupid.” The brunette finally faltered, taking a bite of his sandwich and chewing slowly. Craig hesitated, then moved to put a hand firmly on his friend’s shoulder.

When Clyde glanced back up again, Craig leveled him with the coolest gaze he could muster. “It’s fine,” he muttered. “As long as the people I care about know I wouldn’t do something like that, then I don’t care what Marsh says.”

“But I care!” Clyde immediately protested. “Saying stuff like that can seriously ruin someone’s life, dude! I’m worried that this whole thing is just gonna– I don’t know. Fuck something up? Like, what if you can’t graduate or get into college because the school thinks you pull roofies on the regular? I mean– you don’t really want to go anywhere after this anyways, but–”

“If it’s any consolation.” Tolkien finally spoke up from his spot on the ground next to them, effectively cutting off Clyde’s rambling with his familiar firm tone. “Apparently Kyle’s been begging Stan to stop saying things like that. Even he knows it isn’t true, but Stan just won’t let up.”

Asshole. The thought passed through Craig’s mind before he could stop it. For how long was the guy going to keep hurting Kyle just to get what he wanted?

God. Kyle . He hoped the other man was feeling okay. He was probably really stressed out with everything going on currently.

He’d considered fighting back, briefly. Telling everyone it was Stan who had drugged Kyle and not the other way around. But that was petty, and the rumor had already solidified within the mind of their peers before Craig had a chance to retaliate.

“Maybe I should put something in the school newspaper,” Jimmy joked. “Stan M-M-Ma-Marsh, ultimate alcoholic and liar.”

Clyde perked up, seeming to like the idea far more than Craig was comfortable with. “Would you?” He asked, his eyes practically sparkling in the dappled light of their positioned lunch circle. 

“No.” Craig cut in, his tone sharp. “Don’t give him more attention than he already has.”

The other two grumbled their reluctant agreements for a moment or two, then went back to eating. Craig went to follow suit, only to pause when he felt a hand on his arm. He turned his head, and immediately was met with the sight of Tweek’s anxiously wide eyes.

“Did you do it?” He asked. “Did you drug Kyle?”

Craig’s eyes narrowed. “No.”

Tweek nodded immediately after he spoke. “I believe you.”

And that was that. Everyone went back to eating, Jimmy eventually bringing up a new story about him and Timmy’s latest adventure to the Colorado Falls and effectively taking the rest of the group’s mind off of the foreboding situation.

But not Craig. He needed to hurry up and get himself in order before Stan got what he really wanted.

Eventually both school and the suspicious stares were finally over, leaving Craig free to act on his newly formed plan. He knew Stan well enough to know he had football practice on Mondays, meaning he was easy enough to watch until it was over. Craig forced himself to hang back behind the shed holding the sports teams’ equipment, eyes sharp with concentration as he watched every little movement the other man made. 

Everything seemed relatively normal. Until it wasn’t.

Clyde was on the football team with him. And while he tried to keep his distance, eventually Stan walked up to him directly. Then, he whispered something in the brunette’s ear, and Craig was immediately on high alert.

First Kyle, and now his best friend? What the fuck was this dude planning?

When their practice ended, Stan gestured for Clyde to follow behind him. Craig watched as he led his friend into the school; their figures, once illuminated by the gentle Colorado sunlight, quickly melted into shadowy ink as they disappeared from view.

Craig really had no choice but to follow. 

He was quick to discover the two were holed up in some kind of biology lab on the second floor. It was a rather odd choice for the suspicious conversation Stan was trying to hold, but what was even more frustrating was that Craig couldn’t hear what they were saying through the door. The wood was too thick, or maybe their voices were just too quiet. Although judging by the blatant anger in Clyde’s tone as he responded to whatever Stan was saying, he assumed it was mostly the former.

Come on. Think. He was running out of time. If he lost Clyde, his closest friend and supporter throughout this thing with Kyle, to Stan’s surprisingly silver tongue, Craig was eager to raise hell in response.

Craig could feel his brain racing faster with every moment he spent locked outside that door. Then, finally, he was struck with an idea. They were on the second floor, and Craig knew for a fact the janitors kept the windows open after hours to clear out the rooms. And it just so happened he had a way to get himself on top of the school roof. 

While Craig certainly didn’t drug gorgeous redheads throughout the course of his life, he did know how to pick a lock or two. Getting onto the roof was hardly a challenge; a faulty lock and one of his old Panda Express membership cards did plenty to wrestle the damn door open.

Craig couldn’t stop himself from rushing to the edge of the roof, just barely stopping himself from tumbling over the fencing as he tried to find where Clyde and Stan were talking a single floor below. Luckily, the sound of Clyde’s voice made that task easy enough.

“Dude, you’re fucking insane! That’s crazy, I– I would never do something like that!” His words almost sounded panicked, a fact Craig registered mere moments after situating himself above where they spoke. The window, as he predicted, was wide open, allowing him to catch every little word.

“You have to, man,” Stan insisted. “If Craig can do something like that to Kyle, who knows what else he’s capable of? The dude is dangerous, I’m telling you.”

“Are you sure about that?” Clyde huffed. “I think I know him a lot better than you do, Stan.”

  “Yes!” Craig could sense the way Stan threw his hands in the air. “Clyde, you’ve seen the way he looks at me. At all of us. Think about it– Tweek was telling you they had a fight, right? Before you all got to the party?”

Tweek? He talked about their conversation with Clyde?

“Yeah?” Clyde’s response was full of blatant confusion. “He said he was worried about Craig leaving us for you guys, and Craig said they’d ‘always be together’. I know that much.”

Suddenly, Stan’s voice grew smoother. More vindictive, even. “See? That’s exactly what I’m talking about. He likes Tweek, man. Maybe just a little bit too much. And I know you do too.”

Clyde sputtered some string of words to try and deny it, but Stan just kept talking. “Aren’t you afraid of him? Of what he’s capable of? He’s not the strongest in terms of muscle, but you know what he is?”

Stan didn’t give him a chance to respond. “Smart. He’s smart, Clyde. And that fact alone is how he’s convinced you that both you and Tweek are completely safe under his watch.”

What the fuck?

A beat of silence passed, and for a moment, Craig was worried Clyde was seriously considering his words. Then, the sound of footsteps resonated through the air, getting quieter and quieter until the door beneath his feet swung open and slammed shut within mere moments.

Craig waited, shoulders tense as he waited for a response. Then, a sigh. A sigh that confirmed it was Stan who still stood at the window to the biology lab. After a few moments he too walked away, and Craig was left to digest the conversation no one knew he overheard.

He needed to do something. Talk to someone. Kyle, maybe. He’d probably help him figure out what to do about Stan. Or Tweek, even? Get to him before Clyde or Stan did? It wasn’t that Craig didn’t trust him, but after everything he’d just heard–

“What are you doing?”

The sound of another voice caused Craig to freeze. His mind came rearing to a sudden halt as he slowly turned around to meet the new presence head on.

“Stoley,” he breathed, his eyebrows furrowed deep against his forehead.

Kevin looked Craig up and down, his confused expression very quickly morphing into suspicion. “Were you trying to listen in on something?” He asked. “I wasn’t going to say anything, since I just wanted to look at the stars up here tonight– but I know I heard what they were talking about too.”

Fuck. Of course this asshole was up here studying the stars at five in the afternoon.

“Fuck off,” was Craig’s elegant response, and he immediately turned on his heel to leave. Kevin didn’t let up, though, continuing to speak even as Craig began to walk away.

“They were talking about you, right? If you’re trying not to seem weird after giving Broflovski a roofie, this isn’t really doing much for you!”

Craig turned back around, bringing him and Kevin chest to chest within mere moments. “I did not fucking drug Kyle,” he muttered, his voice low. “If you start telling people you saw me up here as evidence of that, you and I are gonna have some problems.”

Kevin seemed mildly intimidated, but he met Craig’s gaze head on. “Guilty until proven innocent,” He responded. “Why would you be snooping on Stan if you weren’t trying to hide something?”

“God damn it, Stoley–”

“In fact… I’m pretty sure I’ve seen you following Kyle around every once in a while.” Kevin’s eyes widened slightly. “Oh– oh shit, that was you! Back then, in the fucking arcade! I was playing Space Invaders and– and you were stalking around like a creep!”

“Are you fucking serious?” Craig was mere moments away from biting this kid’s head off. He hadn’t even known the dude was there that day/ “Me just walking around is me being creepy? Are you out of your goddamn mind?”

Kevin’s panic morphed into focused determination right in front of Craig’s very eyes. “I’m telling Stan about you. Or McCormick, or– or a teacher! You can’t get away with something like this, Craig!”

Kevin wrestled himself away from Craig’s proximity. He turned his body to move away–

–and Craig reached out to stop him. Only then did he realize how close they were to the railing of the roof.

Kevin was there, for a second. Then, he was gone, his body tumbling backwards over the iron fencing as a surprised scream escaped his lungs.

Craig could do nothing but stand there, ears ringing and breaths scarily even, as the cracking of bone against solid concrete sounded in the air around him.

The next few seconds were surprisingly peaceful. Until Craig realized what he had just done, and suddenly they weren’t.

Oh, fuck.

“Oh, fuck!” He immediately raced over to the railing, a simple glance downward confirming what he already knew; a mangled mess of limbs and inky crimson blood that once belonged to Kevin Stoley now lay scattered against the concrete of the sidewalk surrounding the school, with no one around to witness it but Craig himself.

He’d done that. Shit, did he just fucking kill somebody? 

Craig fell to his knees, the air in his lungs now escaping in sharp, heaving breaths as he tried to comprehend the situation at hand. His hands tore at his hair, his hat, anything that could possibly ground him and the impending panic attack he could feel beginning to build within his chest. There was no way in hell Kevin was still alive– he’d seen it, his body, and he’d been the one to do it.

What had he just done? What the fuck had Craig just done?

…No. No, no, this wasn’t his fault. Nothing about this was Craig’s fault. 

Kevin was going to rat him out. Tell the world that he’d been watching Kyle, fighting to try and get his attention, and backing up everything Stan had to say about him. If anything– if anything, Craig had done the right thing.

Kevin could’ve hurt Kyle, with how he wanted to do things. With how he wanted to open his mouth. Now his mouth was open permanently, stuck in a forever silent scream.

Yeah. Yeah, it was okay. The sentiment was oddly comforting, and Craig very slowly rose back to his feet. He’d protected both himself and Kyle. He should be proud of himself for taking care of an issue before it even had a chance to begin.

But the consequences. Shit, Craig was still standing there. If he got caught a second time, things could only get worse. He needed to leave, before someone accused him of doing something that wasn’t his fault.

So, this time, he followed through. Craig turned on his heel, faced the door of the school rooftop, and ran.

Chapter Text

Suicide. It was labeled a fucking suicide.

Craig was so sure he was going to get caught that he didn’t attend the funeral. 

“Is it true? Did Kevin Stoley really kill himself?”

“I heard it was because of his life at home. His mother was always super neglectful,  so it makes sense…”

“I think he was just being stupid. He didn’t leave a note or anything, right? I bet he just fell off the side of the building watching Star Trek or something…”

“Maybe if I had known he was struggling, I could’ve helped. I just didn’t realize he was in pain…”

“No one cared about Kevin Stoley until he was gone. I don’t know why everyone’s acting like a damn martyr now that he’s dead.”

The rumors were circulating so deeply throughout the school to the point that no one knew what was true. Craig had initially been certain he would be found out; his DNA was probably scattered all around Kevin’s remains, and if he was really unlucky, someone probably would’ve seen him leaving the building after the accident. 

But no. That didn’t happen. Because the South Park Police were utter fucking idiots and didn’t think to check his body for any signs of misconduct. Craig supposed he should be thankful, but now he had to deal with the guilt of remembering that he fucking killed a man and now said man was being labeled as a suicidal maniac.

…Nothing about this situation was a mistake. Realistically, Craig knew that. He’d just wanted to keep Kyle from running off, and these were the consequences. But that didn’t mean he’d expected things to go this far.

Speaking of Kyle, Craig hadn’t seen him in almost a week now. He was almost afraid the redhead was trying to avoid him, but after a blatantly sour look from Stan as he tried to approach their lunch table a few days ago, he now suspected there was a bit of foul play involved. The iron fist Stan had clasped around Kyle’s livelihood seemed to only be getting stronger, and it didn’t take much for Craig to grow steadily more concerned.

He missed him. It was difficult to transition from teasing and joking around with the man of your affections to not even so much as being able to lay eyes on him. 

Craig knew that, realistically, he should probably be trying a little bit harder to stay under the radar. The rumors about him and Kyle were mostly gone with the newly sprouted speculations surrounding Kevin, but that didn’t mean he was entirely in the clear. He knew damn well that Stan was watching him like a hawk to ensure he didn’t step too close, not to mention the steadily growing assumption that Kevin’s death was more than just a mental break. 

But he didn’t… quite care about being careful anymore. Craig had already crossed a line; why wouldn’t he just put more effort into getting what he wanted? What he wanted was for Kyle to stay in South Park, and he couldn’t do that by sitting around and doing nothing. 

The evidence was right in front of his face. Kyle and the rest of their class were still due to graduate in a month, meaning that Craig was running out of time. He’d been so stagnant, once; assuming that he’d have all the time in the world to follow the redhead around and ensure his safety. Now he was being forced to pay the price.

He needed to talk to Kyle. Not only to make sure that he was alright, but also to remind him of just what exactly he was leaving behind. 

Luckily for Craig, he’d become a bit of an expert at knowing where Kyle was at all times. Even with everything going on around them, he still hadn’t changed his schedule, meaning Craig knew exactly where to catch him. All he could hope for was that Stan wasn’t eagerly peering around the corner to jump his ass for getting too close to his newly caged songbird.

 It was Thursday. Three full days after Kevin died, and only one day after his funeral. Thursdays were typically study days for state testing, but their class had long since finished those; that meant that, like every other time his plans seemed to deviate, Kyle would be holed up in the library after school. Craig also knew that, as a repercussion of being forced to learn about Stan alongside this gorgeous boy, that his accidental rival would be busy playing board games with his friends until the late evening. 

The opportunity was almost too perfect.

The end of class couldn’t come soon enough. The school was holding some kind of memorial service in the gym for Kevin that evening, but Craig hardly found himself wanting to attend. Instead, he chose to deviate from his own schedule, taking a sharp left instead of his usual right from the entrance to his astronomy class and beginning to walk towards the school library.

His friends would understand why he couldn’t meet up today; they had to. He was just so stressed out with everything going on, after all. Craig Tucker was widely considered to be a careless guy, but even he had his limits.

The halls were oddly void of surrounding students as Craig continued to walk. He couldn’t help the way his eyebrows furrowed against his forehead as his brain eventually registered the lack of people. Did everyone care about Kevin Stoley that much? This seemed like a bit of a ridiculous turnout for a memorial service that had hardly even been thought out. Not to mention the smell of what seemed to be lit candles filtering down the hallway; it almost seemed like they were trying to set the whole building on fire. 

But Craig didn’t care. How could he, when he finally turned the corner and caught the familiar sight of luscious red curls right in his immediate field of vision?

The library was, once again, strangely empty, but Craig hardly paid any mind as he opened the door to the room and carefully stepped inside. There, as he oh-so-confidently predicted, sat the man of his dearly beloved affections, curled up in a small wooden chair with his nose deep inside the pages of a book and an array of study materials laid out in front of him. Craig was almost beginning to experience a bit of deja vu.

First, he looked to his left. Then, his right. And, luckily for him, the scarily absent gaze of Stan Marsh was nowhere to be found.

Finally, he took a step forward. 

The way Kyle’s head shot up at the sound of his footsteps almost reminded Craig of an excited puppy. He had the pleasure of watching the redhead’s eyes widen into brilliant emerald pools as he got closer, and once he’d made it to where the other man sat, Craig opened his mouth to speak.

“I’m sorry.”

Kyle beat him to it.

“About Stan. Honestly, I have no clue where he got this idea. The thought that– that you’re trying to drug me just to get a reaction out of him is the stupidest shit I think I’ve ever heard.” Kyle’s lips pursed together in an annoyed frown. “And I’ve been friends with Cartman for nearly a decade.”

Craig blinked. He’d known that Kyle was fighting for his corner behind closed doors, but hearing the reassurance come from him face to face was oddly comforting. 

“Oh.” Craig fought to recover his stoicism, blinking down at Kyle with what he hoped was some semblance of calm. “It’s not your fault, Kyle. Marsh is…”

Deranged? Misguided? Quite literally insane?

“...a dick. But, if I’m being honest, I just hate that everyone’s deciding to actually believe him.”

“It’s ridiculous!” Kyle insisted. “Do you know the amount of times I’ve been asked if I was just ‘confused’ about what happened, and that maybe I was just defending you because I was too high to tell the difference between you and Stan?”

Craig scoffed under his breath. “No, I didn’t know that. I’m not surprised, though; people at this school are fucking insane.”

“Right?” The man across from him sighed heavily, sinking back in his chair like the weight of the world sat heavily on his shoulders. “It feels like things are getting more and more crazy around here lately. I just hope it doesn’t get any worse before graduation.” 

Craig chose not to follow up on that comment. Instead, he averted his gaze, looking down at the laminated ground beneath them as he fought to keep his composure. 

Why? Why did he feel the need to remind Craig now that their time was limited, just when he finally got him all to himself?

A few beats of silence passed, until eventually Kyle’s high tremor sounded through the air again. “Speaking of things being crazy… Kevin Stoley?”

Craig bit down on his bottom lip so hard he swore he almost drew blood. He did not want to have this conversation right now. 

“How are you… feeling? About it? I mean, I know we all used to be friends as kids, but he and I weren’t exactly… close. I figured it’d be different for you, since I know you and him used to share space facts during lunch sometimes.”

The reminder hit him harder than he’d like to admit. It was hard, knowing that the man he’d practically murdered had been someone he’d grown up with. Someone who, even at Craig’s lowest points, was willing to distract him with tales of dwarf planets and the newest billion dollar spacecraft circulating around the sun.

 “...I’m fine,” was all Craig had to offer at that moment. “Stoley and I… hadn’t talked in a while. I doubt I would’ve even noticed he was gone if things hadn’t been so… public.”

It was a lie, and a brutal one at that. But it was all he could allow to escape out into the air without revealing too much.

“I guess,” Kyle hummed. “But you still knew him. We all did. You’re allowed to feel a certain kind of way about it, you know?”

That’s the entire problem, Kyle. I knew him, and I killed him. For you.

“I don’t wanna talk about this.” Craig’s tone was blunt as he forced himself out of his own thoughts. “What are you working on?”

“Oh–” Kyle seemed surprised at the immediate change in subject, but he was quick to go along with it. “Just some leftover science work from earlier this week. I was actually considering asking you for help, once everything was over. I know that you don’t exactly like work, or even school, but I would really appreciate it.”

Craig raised an eyebrow. Kyle was asking for help? From him?

“...Sure.”

Kyle visibly brightened. “Really? Shit, I didn’t think you’d actually say yes. C’mon, hurry up and sit down.”

Craig grimaced at the redhead’s sudden burst of excitement, but he didn’t argue. When he slid into the chair opposite him, though, Kyle immediately clicked his tongue in disapproval. 

“Over here, dumbass. I’m not turning my book sideways every time I need you to see it, that’s a huge waste of time.”

Kyle was being awfully bossy. Craig hated how he didn’t have anything negative to say about it.

“Okay, damn. You don’t have to order me around, dude. I’m not your lap dog.”

Kyle raised an eyebrow, but didn’t comment. Craig forced himself to ignore the lack of response, instead choosing to slide in next to the redhead and leaning over to see what exactly the work was that he was struggling with.

“...Anatomy? Seriously? Dude, I don’t know shit about the skeletal system.”

“Craig, come on. I’ve been struggling with this for days. I know you took this class last year to make room for astronomy this year, so please just help me out here.”

Kyle paused, his agitation momentarily forgotten. “I also just… missed talking to you. It’s been a while since I’ve heard someone say something intelligent, and I want to see if you’ll fit the bill.”

Now Craig was certain he was slowly going crazy, because if he didn’t know any better, he’d think that Kyle was flirting with him just by his tone of voice alone. 

“I think you put too much trust in me,” he muttered, almost attempting to diffuse the steadily growing embarrassment he felt building within the gentle red shade of his cheeks. “I’m sure as hell not stupid, but that doesn’t mean everything I say is smart.”

“I think you just don’t put enough trust in yourself. Come on, Craig; let’s see if you can impress me.”

And, much to his own shame, he really did try. It turned out that putting effort into things not only made him feel good about himself and his abilities, but was also a surefire way to show off in front of his newly appointed devotion. Craig knew more about the material laid out in front of him than he realized, and their study session got to a point where he was almost able to answer the questions for him. 

Everything was going well, until Craig finally registered in the forefront of his mind just how close they had become. 

Somehow, in their time scribbling down diagrams and analyzing different parts of the body, he and Kyle had grown steadily closer together, to the point where the seats of their chairs were practically glued together as he leaned over the other man’s shoulder to try and read over his work. Their elbows brushed together, Kyle’s crimson red cardigan melding into his own navy blue, and when he turned his head to get his approval on a newly written equation, Craig was surprised to see just how content Kyle seemed to be cozying up to him like this. 

He wanted to pull away. To keep some semblance of pride, perhaps. They were in a public library, after all; Craig wasn’t exactly sure this was the best place to get this comfortable.

But how? How could he ever possibly tear himself away from this? From Kyle, and the look in his eyes when he gazed up at him like he knew the answer to every question the world had to offer?

Craig couldn’t take it. He couldn’t take the sincerity, the sanctity of someone who had no idea what he really did to him. It bothered him, how adorable Kyle was, to the point where he couldn’t help but jab his elbow into the other man’s side when he turned to look at him yet again.

“Ow– Craig, what the hell? ”

“Sorry,” he hummed, sounding completely and utterly not sorry. 

“What was that for?”

“You were annoying me. So I wanted you to stop.”

Kyle’s eyes narrowed into slits, leaving Craig almost feeling like a piece of prey pinned underneath the ferocity of his viridescent anger. 

“I’m annoying you? Really?”

Craig dipped his head once. “That’s right.”

Kyle paused for a moment. Then, his lips split into a vicious grin. “I’ll show you annoying, Tucker. ”

“Try me, Broflovski. ”

Craig wasn’t sure what exactly he was expecting when he poked the curly red bear with a metaphorical stick. But what he did not expect was for Kyle to launch himself at him full force, dragging his fingers along his sides and forcing a shocked bout of laughter to burst out of his lungs. 

“Dude! Get off of me, what the fuck–”

“No!” Kyle’s grin looked borderline manic from the few glimpses Craig could catch as he shifted side to side, his body involuntarily twitching as the redhead dug the tips of his nails into the fabric of his sweater. “Not until you admit it!”

“Admit what? ” Craig attempted to scramble away, chest heaving. “I was being a dick, okay? I’m sorry.”

But Kyle didn’t take that as a proper response. Instead he lunged forward again, landing himself squarely on top of Craig and pinning his wrists above his head. Both of them paused, eagerly trying to catch their breath, until Craig realized just what position they were in. He almost expected Kyle to use his free hand to continue his well deserved torture, but instead, he almost seemed to make himself more comfortable as he sat on top of Craig’s upper thighs. 

It was only when the redhead leaned in to speak again that he realized just how intimate this position actually was. “I want you to admit–”

Kyle took a sharp breath, then continued, his face flushed with stunning crimson. “I want you to admit that you’re a liar.”

“A liar? ” Craig echoed, his eyes wide as he stared up at the redhead practically sitting in his lap.  This was… much further than he’d ever expected to get. “The hell are you talking about?”

“That night.” Kyle leaned in closer, towering over him as he bore his gaze into Craig’s. “You… you said some really stupid shit, and I need to make sure you know you’re lying.”

Kyle then shifted again, and Craig had to physically refrain from making a noise as the denim of the other man's jeans dragged across his crotch. “I– okay?”

“You said that… I didn’t want you to care about me. That I ‘didn’t know what I was talking about’.” Kyle blinked, his eyes glimmering with a certain kind of brilliant fire. “You remember that, right?”

He did. He was just didn't Kyle to remember that.

When he didn’t respond verbally, though, Kyle took matters into his own hands. Quite literally, as he reached out with his free hand to gently grip Craig’s chin and turn his head to face him properly. Craig’s breath nearly caught in his throat, and he was almost beginning to believe he was about to stop functioning entirely.

“Yeah, I–” Craig swallowed, panting slightly as he tried to adjust the crook of his arm. Kyle held firm. “I remember.”

“So?” Kyle tilted his head. “Admit that you lied.”

This was most certainly not how he expected this little chat with Kyle to go. Never in his life did Craig think he’d ever be overpowered by this kid, and on top of that, he was just letting it happen. The worst part was probably that he really didn’t mind this raunchy position he’d found himself in. 

Especially if Kyle kept moving his hips like that.

“Um.” Craig licked his lips, his heart racing as the redhead’s eyes followed the action. “Look, Broflovski, this is nice and all, but–”

“Kyle.”

Okay. 

“Kyle,” Craig corrected. “It’s nice that you’re trying to play detective here, but you were being weird as hell that night. For good reason. I didn’t want to overstep or anything, so–”

“So you lied.” Even as he repeated the sentiment, Kyle hardly seemed upset; instead, he seemed angry, boring down into Craig almost as if he’d just killed his new puppy with a hacksaw. “C’mon, Tucker. I just want you to admit you lied. That’s it. And then I’ll let you go.”

“What is this about, Kyle?” He wasn’t exactly in a position to be asking questions, but the longer he sat pinned to the floor, the more curious he became. “Why are you so damn insistent that I don’t know what I’m talking about?”

Kyle’s eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. His body’s reaction was much more shameful than he’d ever truly admit.

“You don’t get to decide how I feel about things, Craig. Or people.” Kyle let go of his chin, instead moving to tuck a strand of hair behind his prey’s ear. “Why are you so insistent that I could never care about you?”

Because I don’t deserve it. God, I could never deserve you.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Was his verbal response, and to Craig’s own credit, Kyle’s eyes widening in poorly hidden surprise was incredibly satisfying. 

“Come on now, Broflovski. It’s no secret. You’re you, and I’m–”

Me.

“--irrelevant. There’s no way in hell you have room in that huge ass brain of yours for me.” Craig made his best attempt at a shrug, even while pinned to the floor beneath the Kyle Broflovski. “I accepted that fact a long time ago.”

Craig’s eyes flitted across Kyle’s face, trying to catch every little detail or change in demeanor as he processed his words. And, to his surprise, the redhead’s facial features slowly but surely softened. When he spoke again, his voice was much more calm, though Craig could still sense the inkling of raw emotion beneath the surface.

“You don’t get to decide that, Craig. There will always be space for you; all you had to do was ask.”

Well, shit. That was much simpler than he expected. 

He tried to speak again, but Kyle moved before he could. He inched closer, their noses practically touching as he shifted on top of Craig, while Craig himself had to fight not to just tear his wrists from their now slack confines and pull this infuriating man down to meet his lips.

He needed it, he realized. Craig needed it so damn bad; the reassurance that, somehow, there was a place for him in Kyle’s life. He was worth remembering, by this man in particular, and he needed to know that for sure.

A kiss would be a nice bonus.

When he finally summoned the courage to push his head upwards and close the gap, however, the door to the library casually swung open. Kyle’s eyes widened at the sound, and immediately he scrambled backwards, leaving Craig stranded in the middle of the carpeted floor. Craig blinked once, attempting to register not only the situation at hand, but also the past few minutes of his life, and when he finally registered his surroundings, along with Kyle’s deeply reddened face, he also rose to his feet to meet the subject of his theoretical cockblock. 

“Craig?!” Tweek yelped as his head popped up from beneath the ledge of the table. “What the hell are you doing here, man? I’ve been looking everywhere for you! You weren’t at the field today– what if someone killed you? I’ve been telling you that Kevin’s death was more than just that dumb suicide conspiracy–”

Goddamnit. “I’m fine, Tweek. I was just helping Kyle with his middle school science homework.” He gestured at the redhead with a tilt of his head to emphasize his point. 

Tweek turned to look at Kyle, who still hadn’t been able to wipe the embarrassment from being caught off his face. He practically jumped out of his skin when he realized he was finally being addressed.

“Oh– it’s not middle school science, asshole, but– yeah. Sorry, Tweek. I didn’t realize I was holding him up.”

Tweek blinked slowly, his expression scarily unreadable. “It’s… fine.”

He then walked around the table, reaching out to tug at the sleeve of Craig’s sweater. “Come on, dude. Clyde actually thought you might’ve– you know. You might wanna– agh– make sure he knows you’re okay.”

In all honesty, Craig probably should’ve felt guilty. He’d left his friends stranded in the middle of something emotional that he himself had caused, and even worse, he hadn’t even informed them of their whereabouts. With everything going on he wasn’t all that surprised that Clyde assumed he’d finally kicked the bucket.

But he didn’t. He didn’t feel guilty at all. Because, just a few seconds prior, he’d had Kyle Broflovski sat comfortably in his lap, all eyes on him as he threw demands around like candy. It was exhilarating. 

Craig was keen on chasing that high. Even as he was forced out of the library and dragged down the hallway back to where his friends waited, the image of Kyle on top of him seemed like it was burned into the forefront of his very retinas. It was hardly a sight he’d ever be able to forget.

Chapter Text

Tweek was onto him. What exactly he was onto, Craig didn’t even know, but he could detect his ex-boyfriend’s suspicion from miles away.

Maybe it was the fact that he'd grown just a bit more… obsessive over the past couple weeks. He couldn't help it, really; something about that interaction with Kyle in the library seemed to physically change something deep within his brain, and now the redhead was all he could think about. 

And what did Craig do when he couldn't get something off his mind? He simply made more of an effort to investigate it. 

And, well, he wasn't being the most subtle about his shift in demeanor. 

He had two weeks before Kyle left for college. Craig needed to figure out more about his motivations, and he needed to make progress before he lost this boy forever. He wasn’t going to lose his chance; he couldn’t. 

He hadn’t purposefully made an effort to involve his friends in his new course of action, but it could hardly be helped. Craig could only follow Kyle and the rest of his little group around for so long until they caught onto him. Not to mention that it was almost becoming… a little boring.

Kyle was never boring. No, no, never. But what he was forced to get up to with his friends was. 

Why did Stan insist on dragging his redhead around quite literally everywhere he went? Craig already knew it was probably exhausting trying to keep up with the son of a bitch and his rapid mood swings, but this was just excessive. 

They still hung out with Cartman and Kenny, and even a few kids outside of their main group on occasion, but more often than not Craig knew that whenever he caught up to Kyle, Stan was sure not to be too far behind. It was getting to a point where he was beginning to hope to see Cartman hanging around Kyle instead, just for the sake of his own mental health. 

They went everywhere together. The movies, the park; hell, Stan even brought Kyle to his fucking dentist appointment. And while Kyle seemed content going along with it, it was very blatantly clear from Craig’s point of view that he wasn’t particularly enjoying himself. And he had a pretty damn good point of view, considering he was less than 20 feet away at all times ever since that day in the library. 

It was all in his eyes. Kyle had always been so blatantly expressive, ever since they were kids, but his eyes told the full story. And what his eyes were telling him was that he did not give a single fuck about anything Stan had them doing together.

But why would he ever even care in the first place? Stan was all brute force and simpering puppy dog eyes; slightly muscular, but nothing to write home about. He wasn’t the type of guy that deserved Kyle. Hell, could he even protect him if the situation called for it? What if he got hurt? What exactly could Stan Marsh do for him other than beg for the attention his own family clearly never cared to give?

Craig could do better. For one, he actually cared about Kyle’s happiness. 

At least he knew now that he wasn’t being delusional. Kyle had to be interested in him. There was no other way to explain it. There was a certain kind of fire in his eyes that day, one Craig had never seen before as he was shoved to the ground and borderline forced to apologize for something he hadn’t even realized he was doing wrong. Not to mention the way he pressed against him, practically grinding against the meat of his thigh as he demanded for Craig to just let go and beg for forgiveness–

–they almost kissed too. That, Craig was sure of.

Did Stan get close to making out with Kyle in the middle of public spaces? Craig was willing to bet otherwise. That sad excuse for a bisexual probably just begged for a chance to find out if he was “actually gay” back in middle school and became obsessed ever since. 

…Why exactly was Stan so invested in Kyle? Was it really just loneliness, or was there something deeper there? Something more… intimate?

There better not be.

Either way, it seemed like Craig was becoming more blatantly obvious with his interest in Kyle. He could only skimp on so many group hangouts before his friends caught on, and knowing them, they’d hardly let him distance himself any further before cornering him in the middle of a public place and demanding answers. Not to mention he could hardly keep himself entertained on his own on outings like these.

So, as he tended to do nowadays, Craig inserted himself in places he probably shouldn’t be. It was easy to find out when Stan’s group’s next outing was, and when he knew for sure where they were going to be, he conveniently invited his friends out to the same place. And they agreed, because they were willing to do anything for someone they cared about. There were times Craig almost wished he wasn’t taking advantage of their unfiltered kindness.

Almost. He had different priorities now. 

Even still, it wasn’t difficult to notice the shift in Tweek’s demeanor once they started going out more often. He’d always been paranoid, but Craig would be utterly blind not to catch the raw anxiety that painted his otherwise shaky gaze every time they happened to be in the same area as Stan and the rest of his group. Not to mention the way he looked at Craig when they met up in the hallways during school; it was almost as if he regarded him as a ticking time bomb rather than a friend. 

But that was fine. Everything was fine, now that he had Kyle to watch over.

Eventually, though, Craig's attention drifted away from Tweek. He didn't have much time to spare now that they were so close to graduation, and the rumors from what felt like months ago still lingered like whispers in the otherwise still air of Craig's headspace. He needed to get his shit together, and quickly, because god forbid Stan Marsh beat him at quite literally anything ever. 

It almost felt like a rescue mission, in Craig's eyes. While he felt like he understood Kyle pretty well by now– so, so well– he'd also grown to learn a bit about Stan. It seemed like he was the only one who knew what this sad excuse for a man was actually like, and Craig knew for a fact he'd rather die than let him run off into the foreboding sunset with his porcelain redheaded doll in tow.

It'd be okay. Everything would be okay. Craig would keep Kyle safe– he had to.

Even still, he hadn’t even meant to stumble upon him this time. Tricia had practically dragged both Tweek and Craig out for the day, muttering under her sickeningly sweet breath about them and their lack of preparation for looking good the day of graduation, which somehow resulted in the three of them waltzing around the town square in search of stores they had yet to ransack. Craig was under the firm impression that she just wanted an excuse to swipe his credit card, and he was sure to vocalize his opinion every time Tricia plucked a new shiny bracelet from its spot on a rickety display. 

It wasn’t a bad day, all things considered. Both him and Tweek had found some decent looking clothing to throw on underneath their gown the day of, and they’d even come together to find their friends a select few graduation gifts. It felt… nice. Bittersweet, even.

Craig hadn’t realized how much he missed spending time with the shorter man until now. Tweek had always been nice to be around, but admittedly, Craig had almost forgotten what it was like to properly hang around him without simultaneously being hung up on Kyle. It almost made him want to back off on his goal a bit; revisit some aspects of his life before this newly grown infatuation was sure to take over his mind entirely.

He wasn’t too far gone yet. Kyle was obviously the most important thing in his life– and Craig would rather die than let him slip through his fingers now– but he was still sane. More than sane, really. He was completely and utterly normal about Kyle Broflovski. 

So then maybe he shouldn’t have perked up the way he did when he heard a familiar laugh ring out through the town’s central square. Both his sister and Tweek were busy taking a break from their impromptu shopping spree, playfully bickering about their favorite ice cream flavors as they waited in line for a local vendor, leaving Craig off to the side to tap away on his phone. And while the newest version of jailbroken Flappy Bird was fun, his concentration was immediately shot when his brain caught on to the familiarity of such a melodic sound.

Kyle. He was around here somewhere. 

Craig spared a single glance to the two figures next to him. Then, he took a step to the side, before subtly slipping off into the crowd and bee lining towards the source of that voice he knew and loved so well. 

The town square was busy, but Craig was tall and also maybe a little bit too observant. Kyle was incredibly easy to pick out of the crowd; he’d long left his habit of wearing some kind of headwear everywhere he went behind, meaning those brilliantly auburn curls were now on display at all times. And while Craig wasn’t exactly a fan of anyone else getting the chance to ogle at what was supposed to be his and his alone, it was awfully convenient for a situation like this. 

Kyle stood with his back against a wall, leaning back against the cool brick as he chatted animatedly to the small group surrounding him. Craig’s gaze was quick to skim over the few people visible from where he stood. It wasn’t hard to pick out Kenny, with Wendy practically hanging off of his hip as they continued to talk. Craig’s eyes naturally drifted to the left, expecting the worst of the worst and found–

…nothing. There was no Stan in sight. Not that he could tell, anyway. 

Craig blinked. Either he was the luckiest man in the world, or something was bound to go horribly wrong, because there was no way in hell Stan didn’t know Kyle had gone out today. What could he possibly have going on that was more important than his best friend?

Craig was so deep in his thoughts he didn’t even register the lack of Kyle in front of him until he was nudged in the ribs by a passerby somewhere to his left. He stumbled slightly with the force of the impact, but after a quick recovery and a sharp glare at the person walking past, Craig straightened his back and began pushing through the crowd once more.

It was almost routine at this point. Craig had been out in public with Kyle enough times to know his movement patterns, meaning it hardly took more than a minute to yet again seek him out. Craig watched as both Kyle and the rest of his little group slipped into a gaudy looking clothing store, eyes narrowed as he tried to consider the best course of action. He could hardly ensure Kyle’s safety if he just hung around outside; the solution was quite simple, if he really thought about it.

 The inside of the store was so much worse than he expected it to be. Craig was practically blinded the moment he walked through the door, bringing a hand up to shield his eyes from the excessive light shining off the multitude of mirrors hanging throughout the front of the building. The flooring was coated in shiny marble, and when Craig was finally able to regain his bearings, he was able to register the amount of cheap looking jewelry and accessories that hung off the nearby racks.

“Wow.” Blatantly unimpressed, Craig turned on his heel, walking deeper into the store in search of Kyle and his little group of friends. They surely hadn’t been able to go that far, but the store was significantly bigger than it looked. Not to mention the occasional distraction that kept catching his attention in the form of space embroidered sweatshirts and hoodies dotted throughout the store. 

Eventually Craig was able to reign himself in, narrowly avoiding tossing cash at another store associate for what had to be the fifth time that day until he finally caught sight of Kyle. The redhead stood rifling through a rack of pale colored clothes, expression calm as he flicked various sweaters and shoddy shirts to the side. Craig couldn’t help but immediately register the fact that he was now alone.

Every fiber of Craig’s being craved to approach him; to say hello, maybe even heckle him about his choice in clothing. Maybe he’d smile at him, eyes sparkling as he stared up at Craig like he hung the moon. Or– maybe he’d get flustered. Angrily flustered, posture stiff with thinly veiled frustration as he elbowed Craig in the side for being a dick. He would sustain any jab in the world if it meant getting Kyle to look at him like that.

But he couldn’t. Mostly because Kyle didn’t even know he was here, but this was also Craig’s chance to have the luxury of keeping an eye on him without getting caught. Kyle really was just so pretty when he thought no one was watching.

Craig hung back behind a pillar near the dressing rooms, staring with a critical eye as Kyle flicked through the rack of clothes in front of him. When he inevitably didn’t find anything he wanted, because light blue was hardly Kyle’s best color, the redhead scoffed under his breath before turning on his heel and walking off to another part of the store. Naturally, Craig followed. 

Kyle seemed to be awfully determined to find new clothes, for some odd reason. Craig had the pleasure of watching as he flitted from rack to rack, pushing an array of pants and weirdly cropped vests to the side as he continued to search. Craig wasn’t entirely sure what he was looking for, but the way Kyle’s face twisted deeper and deeper into a sea of unfiltered frustration as he searched and searched was entertaining enough on its own. 

It almost looked like he was ready to give up when Kyle’s gaze shifted to a clothing stand near the back of the building. Craig squinted his eyes to try and catch what exactly he was looking at, but he didn’t have a chance to see anything before Kyle waltzed off and out of view. 

Craig scrambled to keep up, moving to duck behind a revolving rack of jewelry as a group of giggling girls walked past. His eyes sharpened as they once again landed on Kyle, and after a moment or two of ensuring no one was heading in his general direction, moved to stand just a little bit closer.

Tucking himself safely behind a rotating rack of clothing, Craig averted his gaze back to Kyle. The redhead was holding onto the sleeve of some kind of freshly tailored suit, caressing the viridescent fabric with his thumb as he brushed it gently over the cuffs at the bottom. Craig couldn’t see well enough from where he stood, but he was certain the other man’s eyes were positively sparkling as he plucked the suit from its rack and began looking it over.

It had to be for Kyle himself, Craig thought in the back of his mind. No one else could pull off that shade of green without looking downright ridiculous. The suit looked formal enough; it was probably something intended for graduation. Craig was almost afraid he’d look a little too good in it.  

His thoughts continued to race before he could even think to stop them. What would it be like to hold Kyle in that suit? To run his hands down his arms, splaying them out at the crest of his shoulders as he slowly reached up to caress his collar? Would he let that happen? Craig could only hope so. The whole idea almost sounded like a dream, one he was happy to flourish in as he stared point blank at the man in front of him.

How good would Kyle look with the suit off? Craig had never gone that far in his observant tendencies; never even dared to try and sneak a peek at the redhead being naked. He may be a little overly interested at times, but Craig wasn’t creepy. Looking at people in that way without their permission was horribly too far even for him.

Although… after recent events, Craig couldn’t help but wonder if Kyle would let it happen. Would he be able to get that close? That intimate? Would Kyle let him get that far, even just out of pity? Craig despised being pitied, but for Kyle he would do anything. He would be anything. If he had to look stupid, even just a single time, maybe he would be able to let it go if it meant being able to–

“Craig?”

The man in question nearly jumped out of his skin. Craig whirled around on his heel, wincing as the metal of the sharpened clothing hangers behind him dug into his back, and exhaled sharply through his teeth. “Shit, I–!”

Then, he paused. It wasn’t Kyle calling out his name, as he’d expected. Instead, Craig met eyes with someone arguably much more terrifying.

 “Tweek? Jesus Christ, the hell are you doing here?”

The blonde almost appeared to be frozen in place. He looked Craig up and down, hands shaky as they gripped a cup of familiar coffee in his right palm. Almost his entire body seemed to be trembling, but the longer the two stared at one another, the quicker Craig began to realize that his friend’s significant jittering was sourced from more than shitty caffeine.

“I– I’ve been looking all over for you, man!” Tweek practically squeaked behind closed teeth. “Trish said you ran off somewhere but– agh– typically you let me know before you go somewhere, so–”

Fuck. He’d completely forgotten about that.

Craig hissed sharply under his breath before moving to stand at his full height. He walked a few steps closer to Tweek, reaching out to place a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Sorry. I just got distracted on the way back from the bathroom, it’s not a big deal–”

Tweek recoiled away from his touch. Craig’s eyes widened.

“Distracted doing what, man?” He spat. “Why are you just– just– just sitting there like a creep? What were you even trying to do, huh? Is someone over there? Is that why you–”

Craig reached forward again, although this time he was much less gentle. He clasped a hand on top of the blonde’s mouth, motioning for him to quiet down with a low hiss. “Just– stop for a second, okay?”

The two locked eyes again. The fear in Tweek’s gaze would be painful to see if it wasn’t for all of Craig’s effort to make sure Kyle hadn’t caught on.

Craig tilted his head, eyes blazing in a silent command to stay quiet. Tweek hesitated, then nodded slowly. Craig took that as a sign to let go.

“You’re overthinking it. If I’m being honest, I saw someone walking around and thought it was Marsh.”

Craig shrugged, slipping his hands into his pockets. “I couldn’t tell, so I was trying to make sure before I bumped into him and was forced to listen to his bullshit tirades again. It’s not anything weird, so you need to calm down.”

The lie felt clumsy floating around in his brain, but it slipped from his tongue smooth as silk. 

Tweek didn’t respond immediately. His gaze flicked to Craig, then to the floor, then to a spot behind him, as if searching for something that wasn’t even there. When he finally made eye contact with him again, Craig was quick to find the anxiety in his eyes being ever so slowly glossed over.

“Wh–” Tweek paused, a violent shudder coursing through the muscles in his body. “Whatever you say, man. Can we please just go? Tricia is waiting for us, and– you told me we’d be home by now.”

“I did say that, huh?” The words almost sounded absent, spilling from his lips. 

 “Yeah,” Tweek responded. “You did.”

Craig blinked. Without averting his gaze back to where he knew Kyle still stood, he moved to brush past Tweek’s shaky figure and started walking towards the exit. When the blonde didn’t immediately follow, he turned his head back around and narrowed his eyes in Tweek’s direction. 

“Well?” He inquired. “Come on. Let’s go.”

Again, Tweek hesitated. Craig could see the raw mix of emotions fighting for control in his mind through the sheen of his eyes, and the sight almost made him feel a little guilty. Almost.

Finally, after a moment or two, Tweek rapidly shook his head before taking a few steps forward. “Y-Yeah. Let’s just– go.”

They were going to have to talk about this. Craig knew that for a fact. But for now, his focus was on ensuring Tweek was plenty far away from Kyle. The last thing he needed was to get caught, especially because of a slip up that could have easily been prevented. He really did need to be more careful if he was going to get away with this.

Tweek took a stride or two towards Craig, who waited patiently for him to catch up. Then, he slipped his hand into his as he had so many times in the past. And for the first time in years, Craig could feel the chill of Tweek’s skin seeping into his own as they walked. 

The text he’d received was simple. Cleanly written, punctuated, and to the point. 

sorry

It was so unlike anything Craig had ever seen from Tweek that it was almost jarring.

So much so that he wasn’t sure how exactly to respond. For what felt like the first time in years, Craig had no idea what the other man was thinking. It wasn’t like he’d been all that subtle; Tweek had practically caught him redhanded the other day, and the two knew each other well enough that any kind of lie hardly lasted more than a few hours.

There was also zero hope of Craig being able to twist the story anymore than he already did. He had obviously been watching Kyle, crouched behind a spinning rack of cheap accessories like he was some kind of spy. This situation alone just proved that even if he was one, he’d be absolutely horrible at his job.

A good spy didn’t exactly get caught blatantly staring at the man of his slightly unrealistic dreams in the middle of a public clothing store.   

Craig stared vehemently at his phone screen. He could feel his brain racking for any kind of reasonable reply, and dug his teeth into his bottom lip when he came up dry. After another minute of desperate thinking, he typed out a select few words and sent it off.

What for?

His reply came in almost instantly. Craig’s eyebrows furrowed as he read it over.

for assuming things

ur right you werent being weird. i just got paranoid i guess

you didnt do anything wrong

so im sorry

“What…?” Craig murmured aloud. “Is he serious?”

Obviously, no answer came in the form of audible words.

It’s fine?

You don’t have to be weird dude. It wasn’t a big deal

It was Craig’s half assed attempt at being comforting, but he really had no idea what to do. He hadn’t expected Tweek to be so… compliant. And he most certainly was not expecting an apology. It was almost a little uncomfortable to see the man he knew to be so outspoken acting so pliable. 

It didn’t take long for a small string of notifications to pop up on the upper half of his screen. But when Craig moved to swipe them away, a phone call blocked a majority of his screen.

Clyde? Craig lowered his thumb to the bottom half of the screen, eyebrows furrowed as he answered the call. 

“Hello?”

After a heavy beat of silence, Craig flinched backwards as a sound filtered into the air. Someone was breathing deep into the phone, inhaling sharply as they practically panted in his ear, and immediately the hairs on Craig’s arms rose to stand on end.

“Hello?” He pressed, lifting himself up to prop his head against the wall behind him. “Clyde, if you’re fucking with me right now, I swear to God–”

“Not Clyde.”  A voice, soft and breathless, rang into the air. Craig scrambled to sit up straight as his mind registered just who was on the other side of the phone.

“Stan?” The utterance of the other man’s name came out as a sharp hiss, and Craig desperately hoped the panic he felt rising in the pit of his stomach wasn’t blatantly obvious from the tone of his own voice. “The fuck are you doing with Clyde’s phone?”

 The motherfucker had the audacity to laugh, chuckling quietly to himself as he continued to regain his breath. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” He murmured, and Craig had to resist the urge to growl in frustration.

“Don’t play this shit with me, Marsh. Where is Clyde, and why do you have his phone?”

Stan let the question hang in the air for an excruciatingly long moment. His breathing continued to stay labored, but the viciousness in his tone was anything but gentle. 

“You and the rest of the guys. You like that little spot out on the field, right? Clyde was telling me all about how you guys sit out there after school’s out. Something about trading cigarettes for homework and Costco membership cards, I think? Seems like you guys are pretty good at sharing.”

Craig’s grip on his phone tightened. “Get to the point, Marsh. What do you want?”

Stan paused again. Then, he scoffed. A light but haughty puff of air escaping from what Craig could assume to be his lips. “The hell do you think, man? Come on, you’re smarter than this.”

“I told you, months ago, to stay away from Kyle. And what did you do? You roped him deeper into your life.”

“Because you’re selfish, Tucker.” His last name was practically spat from the other man’s mouth. “You are so goddamn selfish you can’t even bother to acknowledge the people who actually do want you around.”

“So how selfish can you really be? How good are you at sharing, really?”

“Stan–”

“Come find us, Craig. Think about it. You’d know if you knew Clyde like you think you do. After all, what could he possibly love more than his closest friends?”

Then the line went dead.

Craig blinked once. Then twice. Then, he tore the blankets covering the lower half of his body to the side, throwing himself to the floor of his bedroom in an effort to get his shoes on faster.

Stan didn’t know what the fuck he was talking about. Craig knew Clyde better than anyone, bar Tweek, and if he and Stan were getting as close as he assumed they were, he had a damn good bet as to where Clyde would bring him.

Stan really wasn’t good at this whole obsessive personality schtick, considering the amount of clues he’d already laid out for him.