Chapter Text

Prologue

The place where it all started

Drugs can really fuck you up. Tweek knows, maybe better than most people do.

Sure, everyone knows addiction is a bitch. They look at the people on the street with a mixture of pity and disgust, sometimes sparing a dollar or two to feel at ease with themselves. However, saying people “know” what addiction feels like isn’t too different from saying they “know” what is beyond this life. Sure, people have their beliefs, and they make their own silly little theories about it.

But they don’t know. Nobody can know, not until they see it with their very own eyes.

Tweek’s not the type of kid who’d get involved with this stuff. He’s a sweet boy who loves baking and videogames. Sure,  he would get into fights sometimes, but it’s not like he ever tried to. It just… Happened, sometimes. He wanted to believe he was still a good person. It’s not his fault his parents were such dicks.

It’s been five years now. He’s now been clean for a while, and even most long-term effects should start wearing off now. But when he looks in the mirror, Tweek still can’t help but see that kid looking right back at him. It doesn’t matter how hard he tries to put on weight, to go outside, to eat healthy… He still can see his ribs poking from beneath his thin skin when he takes a deep breath. His skin is as sickly pale as ever. And it doesn’t even matter how much he spends on whitening toothpaste, he still can’t bite into an ice cream without his entire being shaking in pain.

It’s just… So frustrating. To never notice any change, any betterment, after all of this effort. And now, he’s even at square one.

Tweek remembers South Park with a bittersweet mixture of feelings. South Park is the place where it all happened: Substance abuse, but also friendship. Years of digging his own tomb, but also the happiest years of his life.  His parents, but also… Him. Craig Tucker. The boy he once thought was his soulmate. The very own who took his delicate, fragile heart and shattered into a million pieces he still hasn't managed to fully put together.

Just the thought of that guy already makes him nervous enough to twitch, biting his tongue (literally) to avoid making any noise. He’s getting better. Just because he’s back to South Park it doesn’t mean he’s going to relapse. He’s just… Nervous. Afraid of facing him, after all this time. 

I mean, he’s probably pissed, right? But still… Tweek missed him so much. Even if he’s met with Craig’s fist, he’d still be glad to see he’s doing well.

Tweek sighs, checking himself out in the mirror one more time. He has been trying to grow out of his old habits. Sure, he still struggles properly buttoning up a shirt (no matter what he does, his attention span is the one thing that never seems able to get any better), so now he just… Tries his best to stick to sweaters and t-shirts. He even tries to tame his wild pale hair, but it just… Doesn’t really want to collaborate.

“It’s gonna be fine” he reminds himself. “I’m gonna be fine.”

Taking a deep deep breath and ignoring his own twitching eye, he steps outside of his dorm room and into the hallways. South Park had once ruined him, but now he’s come back, stronger, willing to put up a fight.

Chapter Text

The University's rector is an asshole. There’s just something about her overly saccharine voice that just makes Tweek’s guts revolve, as he stood there, amongst the other couple of kids he shared a career with. They weren’t many, really, but it didn’t really surprise him. Architecture doesn't sound like the most exciting career out here. Still, he liked the nice peace and quiet that his small classroom offered him.

What he didn’t like was the idea of having to forcibly partake in some club activity to get some extra credits (which he definitely was going to need, seeing how descriptive geometry was kicking his ass). He tried getting out of it, but not even having transferred in the middle of the second semester seemed to do the trick. I mean, isn’t that a highschool thing?

At least he was thankful that theater was an option.  Funnily enough, one of the many things he had learned from his relationship with Craig was acting, ever since that first breakup. In a way, it had become this nostalgic happy place he could go to whenever recovery became too stressful, and memories too heavy on his shoulders. Sure, he'd rather use that time to study, but... Maybe the club would be a nice way to keep his head afloat.

Of course, nothing could go that perfectly. Not in Tweek’s life.

Tweek has to forcibly keep himself shut, shoving his own hand firmly against his mouth to silence his own words. Still, he couldn’t keep his head from painfully twitching to the side, the sudden stretch on his tense muscles sending a wave of pain through his entire body.

Right in front of him, looking just as surprised, a black haired young man was painting some random prop, red acrylic paint all over his hands and face. A very handsome face at that, Tweek thought, one he knew far too well. 

Tweek’s jaw shook like leaves on a winter storm as he spoke.

“C…Craig?”

It’s almost as if all these years of recovery had gone down the drain. He could feel his entire body betraying him, nervously shaking and twitching, his old tics making their way up to the surface like they hadn’t in months. Craig was there, right in front of him, he would be able to recognize him even if a hundred years had passed.  Tweek was rendered copletly breathless by the sight of his old lover, the man he had only seen in dreams in the last four years, the face he dreamed about every second of his pathetic excuse for an existence. The entire world wobbled around, and only Craig stood still admist the chaos.

Maybe that’s why he didn’t really see the punch coming. I mean, it’s not like Tweek to be some… Punching bag, silently taking it, not fighting back. Sure, he might be thin and dry as  a twig, but he still packed a mean punch.

“Nnngh- You fucking asshole!” He couldn’t help but scream, feeling the blood trickling down his jaw, the pain on his nose too strong to even feel it. He wondered when he had even fallen down on the cold floor. “What the FUCK is wrong with you?”

It was weird, to see Craig’s face twist in anger, his knuckles bloody and pained. He rarely showed much emotion, and when he did, it was mostly in the shape of a small, gentle smile. It’s not like they never fought, it's just… Never really been THIS bad.

“What’s wrong with ME?” Craig’s voice is as particular as ever. Nasal, and yet oh so deep. The very same voice he had once usded to soothe Tweek’s anxieties, now sharp as a blade. “You disappeared! Four whole years at that!”

Tweek is about to answer when someone else steps in between them. A tall man, with a face full of freckles and bright eyes as light as summer’s sky. Were it for his face alone, Tweek probably wouldn’t even recognize him: Puberty really can change a person. But something about that dreadful wig sitting atop of the man’s messy hair, or that tacky dress on top of what looks like gym clothes just rings a bell.

“Kenny? Is that you?” Tweek’s voice seems to have calmed down a bit. Turns out, not being physically assaulted really does wonders with keeping your ticks on track.

“Listen, I don’t really care if you fight but… I’m pretty sure the teacher’s gonna get here soon.” His voice sounds weirdly calm. Tweek wonders if that’s what maturing does to most people, and why it didn0t do the same with Craig's cranky self. “If you make a fuss, we’ll all get in trouble.”

Craig rolls his eyes, as cynical as ever. Even though the pulsing pain in his jaw, Tweek cannot help but stare. He’s grown a lot, definitely, but he doesn’t look like he’s been getting enough sleep.

“Whatever, dude, I’m off.” He says, his nasal tone making it less serious than he’d like to. “But this is far from over, Tweek. “

Tweek can’t keep his intense glare, even as the black haired boy leaves the room, clearly fuming. God, he can barely keep his composure. It’s taking all in his power to avoid a full blown panic attack, honestly. Even as he breathes deeply and closes his eyes, he can still feel his heart hammering against his chest.

“Hey, dude…” Kenny’s voice distracts him, but certainly not enough, as the tallest man offers him a hand. “Need some help?”

Tweek keeps quiet, taking his hand as he stands on his own feet again.  Some droplets of bright red blood fall on the hardwood floors, but he doesn’t even want to look down. Something about staring at Kenny’s ridiculous attire somehow makes him feel more absurd and less anxious.

“T-thanks” His voice shakes, but Tweek can feel himself slowly gaining control again as he takes a tissue Kenny’s offering to him. He decides not to question why it’s a m themed pack, as he keeps the soft paper against his aching nose. “I’m sorry. I… I didn’t know, ugh! I didn’t know Craig would be here. He doesn’t even like theatre, f-for fuck’s sake!”

He swallows hard. He hates this. He hates hearing himself stutter again, after all of his effort. Kenny on the other hand, just widens his smile, patting him on the back. This time, however, it’s Wendy who speaks up.

Tweek hadn’t noticed before, but there she was, standing proud as always, jet black hair flowing down her back.

“Well, we surely didn’t know you’d show up again, Tweek!” She says cheerfully, as she approaches both blonde guys. Tweek wonders why she looks so happy, given the situation. “I’m sorry about that. We all… Know about what happened. And we understand. It’s just that Craig…”

“It’s fine, Wendy. I know.” Tweek tries his best to sound calm again. This time, it’s giving some results. Seeing his old classmates, all grown up, makes him feel so weirdly proud he can momentarily forget about what just happened. “I… Probably should’ve warned someone before coming here.”

Even though Tweek is feeling a little bit better, the ambient still feels as heavy as he feared. Fueled with pity and regret, nobody dares say a word. Thankfully, Kenny seems to notice.

“Hey, but you’re looking so much better!” The young dirty blond cheers, as he stares up and down Tweek’s figure. Tweek can’t help but feel uncomfortable, looking away. “Shame you’re gay, I bet chicks would be all over you!”

Tweek tries to laugh, but it’s so weak it barely looks like a sigh.  Sure, he was no Craig, but he had been able to keep his spot in the top ten cutest guy’s list every single year of primary school, but doing meth will fuck up even the prettiest of guys. He can barely look into a mirror without descending down a self loathing rabbit hole that can go on for hours.

“Well, I for one I’m glad you’re back, Tweek.” Wendy speaks again, putting a hand on Tweek’s shoulder and fully ignoring Kenny’s comment. She seems to hesitate, before hugging him softly. Tweek tries his best to not get any blood on her. “We’re proud of you, alright?”

She pulls away, still smiling, before turning away and saying something to the other people laying around. Only then does Tweek notice all the eyes upon him.

Sure, most of them are faces he remembers clearly. And it’s not like the theater club is overcrowded in any way. But it’s definitely bigger than the book club he was in in elementary school, and enough to make him feel uncomfortable, especially after they just watched it all go down.

“Ok, guys, let’s go back to work! Those credits aren’t going to get themselves!”

While Wendy starts ordering people around as they paint and craft some props(Tweek guesses she’s kind of like a director in this dreadful shitty production), Tweek stays carefully still, listening to his own heartbeat in his eardrums. A warm arm over his shoulder is the only thing that  wakes him up from his trance.

“And what should we have the new recruit do?” Kenny says. “I hope you’re not trying to take over my place as princess, Tweek. Because I’ll totally kick your ass”

This time, Tweek does manage to laugh a little bit, easing the tense air around him. Wendy shrugs, as she begins sewing something Tweek guesses was once a curtain.

“Well, Tweek what are you good at?”

Tweek swallows, as he fumbles with his own hands, looking away and yet smiling, trying to not let his nerves get the best of him. He can feel his hands going sweaty and cold.

“I… I can act!” He answers, but quickly decides that it was far too greedy. “I mean, I know you probably already have everyone casted, so, uhm, I can also… I can also help make some props.”

Wendy’s eyes immediately light up.

“No, Tweek, that’s perfect!” She says, happily. “We had Scott Malkinson as our lead and, well, he… Uh…”

“Yeah, he got caught in some of Eric’s affairs. Again.” Kenny interviened, shrugging. Tweek twitches just at the mention of Eric Cartman’s name. “So he’s gonna be hospitalized for a couple months.”

“Oh, Jesus! Is Cartman still..?” Tweek shakes his own head, stopping himself from speaking anymore. After all, Kenny’s not just one of Cartman’s friends. Everyone knows they’re BEST friends. He’s sure Kenny won’t take it kindly if he says anything bad about his best friend. “Sorry.”

“Hey man, don’t worry. We all know he’s a dick” Kenny comforts him, patting the shorter’s guy’s hair like he’s used to doing for his sister. It’s a brief action, however, as he soon turns towards Wendy. “We should get him some copies of the script then, Wendy. He doesn’t have a lot of time to memorize his lines.”

“Oh! And I Totally need to measure him for the costumes” Bebe intervienes. Tweek hadn’t even noticed his old friend, smiling fondly his way while she cut some piece of cardboard. She and Craig were pretty close growing up, so it felt kind of natural for the three of them to team up during projects and such. Tweek feels incredibly fortunate to remain in her favour, after everything that’s happened.. “You’ve grown a lot, Tweek.”

Tweek feels his eyes water slightly. He was so nervous about Craig, he had forgotten just how much he missed his old friends. He’s tempted to just go and hug every single person he remembers, when yet again, he feels Kenny’s hand over his head.

“Let’s get going then, Tweekers. We can make a copy of mine.” His voice, once again, sounds weirdly comforting. Tweek realizes then Kenny is probably using the same tune with him as he uses with his little sister, which is weirdly… Demeaning, probably. Definitely not a sweet thing. Definitely doesn’t make his heart skip a beat. “We’ll return soon, Bebe, don’t worry. I’m only stealing him for a little while.”

The hallways are awfully cold for some reason. And dreadly silent.

Kenny doesn't speak, and neither does Tweek. Tweek wonders if Kenny realizes he’s holding his hand. Kenny wonders what he’ll make for lunch. Hot pockets again? He should definitely start getting more creative…

Honestly, Tweek had never paid much attention to Kenny. He did hang out with his friend group a couple of times, but it got too stressful so he just… Left. After all, every time he got involved in any of their shenanigans, something turned out awfully wrong. The only relationship he had ever had with Kenny was getting”the stuff” for his parents in the poor boy’s backyards. When Kenny’s parents were drunk and high, Tweek would have to ask him for the keys instead. Sometimes, it would be Kenny himself who gave him those “mysterious packets” his dad always asked for. Of course, that’s… Not really a great memory to hold on to. 

He seemed kind, though. His hands were warm. And he was somehow shameless enough to go around in his silly costume- Just like he had back then, when he was a kid.

“Do you even know what the play is about?”  Kenny asks, bursting Tweeek’s retrospective bubble. “Or are just going to take whatever the script throws your way?”

Tweek avoids his gaze, smiling through the shame. Yeah, he probably should’ve asked beforehand… Taking his silence as an answer, Kenny laughs loudly,  throwing back his head a little as they approach the door to the copy room.

“You’ve gotten a lot tougher, dude.” Kenny sounds genuinely amused, as he opens the door to let Tweek in. “I’m glad. I know it isn’t easy.”

Tweek has a bittersweet smile as he clumsily looks for the light switch in the dark room. When most people say that he’s brave for attempting to recover, he knows they’re just repeating empty words. They don’t know what it is like. They just say what people expect them to say. The morally right way to greet him.

Kenny, on the other hand, knew way too well. Everyone in South Park knew about his parent’s issues, about his broken down family. Kenny’s “I know” wasn’t just some words he was trained to spit on the face of anyone like Tweek. It was out of genuine admiration, and Tweek knew.

“Thank you.” Tweek’s voice manages not to break nor stutter as he speaks. He quietly watches as Kenny’s slips a couple of slightly crumpled papers onto the copying machine. Its soft rumble is somewhat calming, and Tweek realizes his nose is no longer bleeding so much. “How… How have you been?”

Kenny seems a bit taken aback by the question, as if he’s not used to it. When was the last time someone asked about him, instead of just asuming whatever fit their own personal narrative? 

“I moved out.  I couldn’t stand my parents for much longer, so the moment I turned 18, I left home.” He answers, his serious tone surprising Tweek. “I’m sorry about my parents' weird friends, Tweek. I… If I had known that you, too, were drinking that crap…. I would’ve… I should've…”

Tweek smiles reassuringly, as it’s now his turn to softly pat Kenny’s shoulder. 

“You were a kid, Kenny. We both were” Tweek’s words are soft, but there’s so much frustration on them. “Neither of us deserved what we got. We were not at fault there.”.

Kenny just nods silently, as he takes the newly printed script and hands it to Tweek. The paper feels warm on his hand.

“Thanks. I needed to get that off my chest. “ Kenny lets go of a sigh, and Tweek cannot help but stare. As far as he remembers, Kenny has always been a quiet kid. Sure, he was rather outgoing, but most of the time you could even forget he was there to begin with. 

Is that why they never were really friends? It’s a shame, really. Kenny seems like a nice kid.

“So… You’re studying here, huh?” Tweek tries to start a conversation, keeping his nerves at bay. If Kenny  catches on the way his gaze can’t seem to set down on a single place, he decides not to say anything. “What’s your major?”

“Physics.” He says nonchalantly, as he reopens the door leading to the highway. He stands there, quietly, letting Tweek cross it first. “I wanna become like one of those… Weird,  crazy doctors on TV.”

“Huh… I guess I wasn’t expecting that.”

Kenny raises an eyebrow, a mischievous look on his face.

“So you didn’t expect me to have a brain, Tweeks? Now, that’s not a nice thing to say about anyone…” Tweek immediately begins twitching yet again, trying to say something and yet only managing to stutter. Reassuringly, and now with a wide mouthed smile, Kenny ruffles his blonde hair. “Calm down, dude. I’m just kidding.”

Tweek sighs. Jokes are still hard to catch. However, he makes an effort to smile.

“No, still..” He tries to explain himself, a soft peachy blush creeping through his cheeks. “We’ve been in the same class through the entirety of primary school and I didn’t ever notice you were into that type of stuff! I’m, Gah! I’m such a terrible classmate…”

“It’s fine, Tweek.” Kenny replies, shrugging, with his hands in his pockets. Tweek doesn’t really know how to feel about them not holding hands anymore, but decides it’s best not to pay it any mind. “We have plenty of time to get to know each other now, don’t we?

Tweek lets go of a sigh, feeling a weight lifting off him.

“Yeah… I guess you’re right.”

Chapter Text

Craig never showed up again to any of the theater’s club meetings. Everyone insisted it was fine, since he wasn’t really doing all that much to begin with, but Tweek was self-aware enough to know they were lying. 

Most people there pitied him, and he was far too aware. The news of Mr and Ms Tweak drugging up their young kid and making him addicted to crystal meth before he even knew what a prime number was was definitely never forgotten. Ever since he first arrived, he could feel everyone’s stares glued to his neck.

“IS that the Tweak’s kid?” “Oh, I thought he was with his aunt  now…” “That poor kid…”

Their voices would forever haunt Tweek, even though he knew nobody meant anything bad by it. It's just… Felt weird. He had always been the town’s spaz. Then, he had become the town’s gay kid. And now, he’s the tragic story people gossip about to make their children wary of the local coffee shop.  Was his existence meant to be forever reduced to just this? Some cautionary tale? Some pitied  background character?

Tweek’s head twitched a bit. No. It’s fine. IT wasn’t all that bad. He shouldn’t let what happened with Craig get to his head.

Whatever their reason was, people were being nicer than Tweek remembered them being. Kenny, especially, was incredibly sweet. 

Tweek glances up to the dirty blond, who’s twirling here and there, showing off his costume, laughing without a care in the world. It was a pretty spectacle, in its own way. Sure, it was a bit bizarre to see some dude over six feet tall just jumping around in a pastel pink dress, but in a way, it fit him. The low collar showed off his marked collarbone. The obnoxiously yellow wig framed his slender face nicely. With his long lashes, it wouldn’t take Tweek too many drinks to mistake him for some tall girl. A very handsome one, at that. 

“Tweek, darling, you’re staring” Kenny’s teasingly cheerful voice bursts the shortest male’s bubble. He even makes a point to show off his dress a little bit more. “Is it that pretty?”

“Eek!” He can’t  help but exclaim, trying his best to smile. “N-No. I was just… Thinking.”

“I hope it was about the script” intervenes Wendy, bouncing her leg nervously. “Honestly, I don’t know what the chancellor was thinking, asking us to have this ready in three weeks… It’s not like the teacher even shows up to help!”

“We can go over “that” scene again, if you want to” Tweek offers, trying his best not to sound too tired. “You did say you wanted to perfect some stuff.”

“Oh, Tweek, you’re such a sweetheart!” The girl cheerfully smiles, clearly pleased. “Kenny, you don’t really mind, do you?”

“Eh, I guess we can do it again.”

“Ok, everyone! Let’s go to the Ball scene. Bebe, Kenny, Tweek, to your places!”

Everyone kind of nods and heads to the stage, clearly a bit tired.

Tweek’s character is the first to enter the scene. He does his best to ignore the tediousness of doing the same scene after scene again and again, and tries to get into character. He imagines himself, as a finely dressed prince, entering an opulent ballroom full of beautiful frilly dresses and refined gentlemen alike.

When he reaches a certain position, Kenny steps forward into the light. In a perfectly practiced manner, he walks into the stage, his flowy plastic wig holding for dear life with every step. Tweek tries to stop himself from smiling, but realizes it probably fits right in with the scene. He plays the lovesick fool quite well, for someone who’s been wallowing in loneliness and self pity on his own for over four years.

Bebe quietly walks in, settling by his side, as he turns around to address her.

"Oh, Giulio, cousin of mine… Who must that maiden be? 

"She’s-"

"Good evening, my good sir." Kenny immediately interrupts, just as scripted, making his way towards them. Bebe’s offended face really sells it. "I do not believe I have had the pleasure."

Tweek bows, his messy blond hair falling atop of his eyes. It’s a bit uncomfortable, he realizes.

"Good evening, my fair maiden." He speaks, his voice oddly solemn. Kenny has to try his best not to crack a smile, amused at how quickly Tweek’s demeanour can change when the short blond is on the stage. "I come from a faraway kingdom, beyond the cold mountains and fiery lakes. All of this… To ask thee, my fair lady: May I have the honor of this dance?”

Kenny twirls his hair, and Wendy groans, saying something about how it’s “over the top” and “definitely not on the script.”. The young, freckled blond man rolls his eyes, as he lets his hands down.

"I fear I cannot grant thee yond honor, sir."

"And wherefore not, pray tell?"

Kenny turns away. This time, the obnoxious wig does end up being flung against Tweek’s face. The poor student does his best to hand it to Wendy without getting too out of character, pressing his lips to keep giggles from bursting his prince-y persona.

"I beg of thee, my lady." the cheesy dialogue is a bit hard to say with a straight frace, but Tweek tries his best. He’s not about to go over all of this again."My hear beats only for thee, my fair princess. My very soul belongs to nobody but thee. My love for thee doth burn brighter than the brightest star in the heavens, and I would give all that I possess to call thee mine own."

"Such words doth sound like poetry, my lord."

"And yet they come from the depths of my heart." Tweek’s voice sounds truly earnest, truly bewitched. His intense gaze, the way his body slightly leaned forward, it almost makes Kenny shudder. "I am smitten with thee, I wouldst do anything to win thy heart, my love."

Kenny cleans his throat, and Tweek stops himself from sighing. It’s so obvious he’s trying hard not to laugh.

"And what if I were to tell thee that I have no interest in things such as marriage?"

This time, it’s Bebe who steps forward, right in between Tweek and Kenny, facing the shortest boy.

"Thy grace, I pray thee, listen not to her jest. She plays with thy heart like a mouse with a cat."

Wendy frantically moves her hands in the air. Bebe feels really tempted to kick one of the water bottles laying on the edge of the stage into her direction, but she’s too tired for that.

"Like a cat." She corrects herself. "A cat with a mouse."

The black haired girl just sighs.

"Guys, this is… I don’t really think this is working out."

“Oh, c’mon Wendy, it’ll be fine!” Kenny reassures her, his smile unshattering. It really brings up the entire club’s moral. “I’m sure the chancellor will like it. Bebe’s just tired. We all are.I mean, how long have we been rehearsing now?”

“Four hours and thirty-six minutes…” Tweek checks his clock, as if he couldn’t just tell by heart. “I think we all could use a break.”

Wendy sighs, tired, but resigned.

“Yeah, sorry, you’re right. Maybe I overdid it.”  She stretches, her long black hair falling over her shoulder. If he liked girls, Tweek wonders if he’d find Wendy attractive. He did always like Craig’s dark locks. “Today’s that one party in Tolkien’s house anyways, isn’t it?”

“Shit, you’re right!” Kenny frenetically taps his jean’s pocket, looking for his phone just to check the hour. “When was it again?”

Tweek doesn’t answer. It’s not like he knows, anyways. Tolkien’s one of Craig’s best friends, so he’s… Kind of been avoiding him, honestly. He doesn’t really want to risk another punch to the face .

“10pm or so, I think” Bebe’s sweet voice gains everyone attention again. “Although I’d advice arriving fashionably late. Craig’s entire gang is probably going to be there beforehand…”

Tweek realizes how the blonde girl is looking at him, worry apparent in her face. He can’t help but smile, his tummy feeling somewhat warm. She’s a lovely girl, just like wendy.

“It’s fine Bebe, don’t worry. I-It’s not like I was going anyways.”

Now everyone looks at him not with pity, but as if he was some alien from a distant galaxy.

“What? Dude, you’ve got to be kidding me!” Kenny’s voice sounds higher pitched than he probably meant to. “Don’t tell me it’s because of your asshole ex..”

“He’s not an asshole! We’re just… Not on great terms.”

“YOU called him an asshole first, Tweekers.”

“Well, that was different! He punched me!”

“See? Classic asshole move! Who on earth goes around punching their exes?”

“You only say that because if you did it, you’d have to knock out like two thirds of the entire university” Bebe teases. Her words are sharp, even though they know she means well. “I mean, it’s a miracle you haven’t caught anything nasty, Kenny.”

“Ooh, trust me, I’ve caught plenty. You guys just keep forgetting it.” The young blond struggles with his dress’s zipper. Wendy seems to take pity on him and helps him. “I’m pretty sure you all went to my funerals too.”

“Ha-HA, very funny, Kenny. So NOW you decide to get in-character” Bebe answers, but the way she looks back at Tweek lets him know she’s not letting go of the initial conversation so easily. “Nevertheless, Tweek, you should go. I know things aren’t easy with Craig right now, but EVERYONE is going to be there. It’d suck for you to be the odd one out.”

“I wasn’t even invited, Bebe, I can’t just… Ugh, show up!”

“Tolkien probably doesn’t even know you’re here” Wendy tries to give a more positive outlook in the situation. Oddly enough, her smile looks sweet as ever even with the exhaustion in her eyes. “You’ve pretty much been holed up in here ever since you arrived. It can’t be good for you.”

Tweek avoid the others eyes, nervous, trying hard not to overthink. It’s not like he edoesn’t like parties. Sometimes the noise was too much, and the flashing lights could get annoying, but he was still a 19 year old boy. He liked meeting people, and there was something weirdly comforting about people around you being so wasted they couldn’t ever remember anything embarrassing you might do.

“I can take you as a plus one, y’know?” Kenny offers, his hair even messier than before, now fully out of his frilly dress. “Tolkien usually doesn’t mind if I bring my dates over”

“I’m not your date, though.” Tweek’s deadpan voice almost manages to hurt Kenny’s pride. Almost. “I’m some random, ex-crystal meth addicted spaz who left the city years ago.”

“Dude, I used to bring Eric fucking Cartman as my plus one to every single party Tolkien threw for like a year. Trust me, you have NOTHING on that guy.”

This time, wether it is Kenny’s bewildered expression or the memory of kinder times, when Cartman and Kenny seemed inseparable, Tweek can’t help but giggle a bit.

“Ugh, why would you mention THAT guy” Heidi complains, as she helps put the last props in their appropriate place, rolling her eyes. “He’s SUCH a dick.”

Everyone decides to leave the conversation there. Heidi has been very quiet lately, far too focused on her studies, so for her to speak up really goes to show how she feels about this. Wendy immediately goes to her side, and they both begin chatting about something that Tweek can’t really bring himself to care about right now.

It’s not like he can refuse their offer anymore. And, deep down, he wants to go. He still has a lot of people he wants to meet again. Sadly, he knew it wasn’t going to be that easy. Sure, he had a nice friend group growing up here, but they weren’t just his friends. They were his and Craig’s friends. And they probably hated his guts right now.

He felt Kenny’s hand on his shoulder and immediately looked up. When he was this close, the height difference was pretty annoying.

“You don’t have a car, do you?” The golden haired boy’s voice was low, almost as if he didn’t want to disturb the girl’s parallel conversation. “Tolkien’s house is pretty far away, I could give you a ride.”

Tweek silently considered the offer. Being locked up in a car with anyone usually stressed him out, but it’s Kenny we’re talking about. He’s an outgoing guy, and he’s already done plenty for him in the brief time they’ve spent together. Plus, he knows himself enough to guess tonight he’s going to end up wasted. IT’s probably not too safe to wander around South Park piss drunk when there’s a guy out there dying to give breaking his nose another go.

“That’d… Be nice.  Thanks, Kenny.”

“Don’t get all sappy on me, blondie. I’ll get the wrong idea.”

Tweek just laughs Kenny’s flirtatious words off as he timidly waves his hand as a goodbye towards the rest of the club.

“I’m gonna head out already, if you don’t mind.” His voice sounds a lot more stable now than the first day he arrived, Kenny notes. It’s pretty, in its own way. A lot less scratchy than it was when he was a kid. “I need to go to the mall.”

“What for?” Asks Kenny, absolutely ignoring Bebe’s soft spoken goodbye. He almost sounds like a curious young kid, as he accompanies Tweek closely through the hallways. “You’re not planning on hiding inside some changing room to avoid the party, are you?”

“Nngh, why would I do that?” Tweek answers, obviously offended. “I-Is there anything I should hide from in that party?”

Kenny has to stop himself from bringing up Craig again.

“Hey, dude, just making sure” he raises his palms in the air in an exaggerated gesture. “Are you meeting someone there, then?”

“Oh, no, no. Just… Don’t have a lot of clothes for SouthPark’s weather anymore.. And I probably shouldn’t show up to the party with some… Shitty, old jersey like this.”

Kenny gives Tweek an once-over. The shrotest guy would normally twitch and shake at the mere idea of such scrutiny, but in the record-breaking period of a single week, Kenny’s managed to get him used to it.

“It looks good.”

“Gah! It’s not about how it LOOKS!” Tweek protests, rolling his eyes. “It’s just… Probably not warm enough for a Colorado type of night. It’s too cold here!”

Kenny laughs, and Tweek’s eye twitches a little bit. He wasn’t joking.  He doesn''t like when people laugh at him.

“Where on Earth have you been, Tweek? Florida?”

“California.” Kenny laughs yet again, and Tweek starts thinking that violence might be the answer.  “Jesus, dude! What-What’s wrong with you?”

“You don’t look Californian.” He explains, breathing heavily, trying to catch his breath. “Like, at all.”

Tweek rolls his eyes. He’s heard this a hundred times. A sickly pale and thin body. Mauve bags beneath his eyes. Visible veins, greenish, all along his body. Not the kind of dude you’d spot at some Californian beach, walking away with a surf board beneath his arm.

“Well, I’m not Californian.” He tries to defend himself. “Just… Lived there for a short time.”

Kenny shrugged, knowing its better not to dig into the past. 

“Hm, sure… Anyways, why don’t I get you there? I need to get my sister some new shoes anyways.”

“Dude, isn’t Karen like… 14 now? Shouldn’t she pick her own clothes?” Tweek asks, not even answering to Kenny’s question. The golden haired man decides to take that as a ‘sure Kenny I’d love it for you to go’. “And she should try them on anyway… What if they’re uncomfortable?”

“I saw her eyeing a pair a couple days ago. Tried them on and everything.” Kenny’s voice sounds more serious than Tweek would’ve expected. Did his mood always change so quickly? “I hadn’t brought enough money, so we couldn’t get it. But I got a couple of odd jobs since then, so…”

There’s a bit of silence now, only their footstep through the hallway being heard. Kenny silently curses himself. He shouldn’t have said that, not this soon.  Sure, being able to talk with someone who knew what this was like- someone who had been on the foster care system just like he had, it was nice. But no matter what, Tweek was still words apart. He knew about addiction, but that doesn’t mean he understood hunger. IT doesn’t mean he understood the watery-milk mornings and the cold, cold heatless nights.

Suddenly, a warm feeling on his shoulder breaks him away from his thoughts. Tweek’s hand rests awkwardly in his shoulder.

“You’re a good brother, Kenny. Karen’s very lucky to have you.”

“Nah dude… I’m the best.”.

Tweek lets go of a breath he was far too aware he was holding, as both of them walked away from the campus. He’s still getting used to it, but chatting with his new club mate has really helped him step out of his shell. It’s only been a week, but he’s already feeling so much more comfortable than he thought would be possible…

Tweek hated trying on clothes with a burning passion. There just was something about having to change in a tinny toom with a huge ass mirror that really freaked him out. He couldn’t help but stare, stare at his body. Think about how it seems to be constantly decaying, no matter how many times people say he’s getting better, that he’s looking nicer. He still feels like some… Weirdo, walking dead creature.

Thankfully, Kenny also hates having to wait for Tweek to change clothes. And unlike Tweek, who’s the kind of person who’d keep his thoughts to himself, Kenny has no issue voicing and acting upon his thoughts and feelings.

“Blondie, what’s taking you so long? It’s a hoodie, for God’s sake!” Kenny complains, ignoring the loud surprised scream that leaves Kenny’s mouth. The green eyed boy seems trapped in the hoodie, unable to get it to pass over his head with his shaky hands. “Better?”

Kenny helps him get out of the hoodie, carefully placing it down but keeping his eyes on his friend. He was shaky, more so than often, just like when he was a kid. The twitch on his eye was back. Kenny decides its best to step away, give him breathing room.

“Tweek, do you want your sweater back?” He tries to speak softly, realizing how the shorter blond just keeps trying to cross his arms over his chest, covering his torso. Seeing as he shyly nods, he reaches out to the olive green garment and offers it to him. “There you go. Deep breathes, Tweekers.”

Tweek just nods, as he pitifully struggles to put the sweater on. Kenny feels tempted to help once again, but decides against it. They’ve never been too close as children, and it’s only been a week since they begun hanging out. It probably wasn’t a good idea to get into the changing room anyways.

It takes him a little while, but soon, Tweek is dressed properly once again, his blond hair even messier than it already is on a daily basis. He’s taking deep breaths, thinking about the different stars that make up aquarius. Their odd names, that he had memorized so well, bring some nostalgic peace to his pressured heart. He’s still shaking, unable to look Kenny in the eye.

“I’m- Gah!- I’m sorry. Did not expect it to happen.”

“It’s fine, dude. I should be sorry for barging in.” Kenny’s voice sounds as cheerful as always, as he softly pushes Tweek out of the changing room and away from the mirror. “Do you wanna go home?”

“N-No, it’s fine. Just..” Tweek swallows hard, trying to keep breathing slowly, to suppress the shivers that run all through his body. “Let’s avoid fitting rooms for now. I can just… Eyeball it.”

Kenny nods, slowly guiding Tweek outside the store. The overly bright lights are probably not helping the situation at hand.

“...You’re a size M anyways.” He mumbles. “Maybe L at Forever21, since those assholes always size everything up”

Tweek looks a bit too surprised. He usually wears pretty baggy clothes, far from confident enough to show as much as an inch of skin. Even if he had just changed in front of Kenny, it was barely a couple minutes. How could he tell his size just from there?

“How do you know?”

“I worked there, some months ago.” Kenny realizes the conversation seems to distract Tweek, so he smiles to himself as he keeps talking. Tweek likes his voice so much he doesn’t bother to point out that’s not what he was concerned with. “My boss was such a dick, he tried making me work overtime for free. So… I quit.”

“H-How do you do that?”

“Do what? Quitting? You just…”

“N-No!” Tweek quickly interrupts, correcting himself. “I mean… Working, studying… It sounds like too much pressure!”

Kenny laughs, and Tweek finds himself staring a bit too much. He’d normally immediately retreat, but focusing on how pretty his co-star’s smile is certainly beats drowning in dread back in that fitting room.

“You’ve done harder things, Tweek. It’s nothing special” He shrugs, stopping in front of a different store to stare at something. “And it’s not like I have much of an option, anyways. I want to study, that’s for sure. But I also need to feed Karen. If I don’t want to give anything up, I’ll just have to work harder.”

“But that’s not fair!”

“Well, life isn’t fair, you  know that much.” He answers, but there’s no resentment in his voice. No anger, no venom, no hatred. “But there’s nothing I can do. Just… Keep on trying. For Karen’s sake, and for my own.”

Tweek sighs, not really wanting to continue talking about this. He’s had this conversation with hi sown reflection many times.He diverts his attention to whatever Kenny seems to be staring at.

“That looks like your old parka.” Tweek comments, approaching the display. “The fabric’s different, though.”

‘Well, I sure hope they didn’t use my curtains for this one, too.’ Kenny thinks, but decides against voicing any of it.

“Yeah, I was just thinking that” He answers instead, a bit of nostalgia leaking into his tone. “Really brings back memories, doesn’t it?”

Tweek nods, a fond smile upon his liips as he remembers a smaller, slightly less naive Kenny going around the town getting into trouble with his friends. From the corner of his eye, he stares at Kenny. He seems to be lost in thought, pale blue eyes firm on the parka.

“Well, we should keep looking for something dor you to wear to the party.” Kenny speaks, already starting to walk away, hands in his pockets. “I know what Bebe siad about arriving fashionably late, but I do have to get on time to make dinner.”

“Do you want it?”

“Huh?”

“I-I asked… If you want the parka.” Tweek repeats himself, trying not to sound too hesitant. “Orange’s your color anyways.”

“Tweekers, I do not…”

“I’m not asking if you can buy it. I’m asking you if you want it.” He insists, this time truly sure. “Ever since I arrived, you’re the one who’s been helping me out. Back in the shop and… When Craig showed up.”

“You don’t owe me anything, Tweek, I wanted to do those things..”

Tweek sighs, exasperated.

“Well,now I want to do this. So What’s your fucking size, dude?”

Kenny half heartedly smiles, giving up his fight.

“...Large.”

 Tweek nods, disappearing into the shop while Kenny just waited outside, feeling strange. He knows Tweek probably doesn’t have any bad intentions, but it still feels a bit uncomfortable. Almost… Embarrassing. He’s never had anyone he could really rely on, he’s never owed anyone anything. Sure, he had his friends. He had always been very close to Eric, but as much as he appreciated him, that guy’s not right in the head, and has never cared about anyone other than himself.

When Tweek comes out, bulky paper bag in hand and a bright smile in his face, Kenny finds himself forgetting any previous feelings, though. It’s not THAT bad to be a little spoiled from time to time, is it?

“Thanks”

“Well, you’re very much my chauffeur tonight, aren’t you?” Tweek manages to sound pretty relaxed now, as he offers the paper bag to Kenny. The golden haired youth takes it, gratitude spilling out of his eyes. “You can pay me back by not charging me for the gas.”

Kenny let go of a laugh. It’s not as if he was planning on making Tweek pay, anyways.

“Do you wanna go to that shop over there?” Tweek says, as he points towards a store Kenny never paid much attention to. “The jacket on display is pretty cool.”

The tallest boy just nods, even though his eyes seem plastered to the bag on his hand, a warm, fuzzy feeling in his chest. 

Fuck.

Chapter Text

As the sun sets, the old white truck reflects its last rays. Warm orange and red hues dance around the scratched-up metal, making it look slightly less shitty. In an orange parka that still smells just like the store, a young man taps on the steering wheel at the rhythm of some Peruvian flute band’s CD.

He didn’t really get why Tweek insisted on being picked up here, in the middle of nowhere, but he couldn’t bring himself to ask any questions. When the young man’s wild, untamed light hair makes its first appearance, leaving the small convenience store, Kenny realizes what it was. In his thin arms, a clear clinking sound reveals what he was so fixed on buying for today’s party.

Kenny is about to laugh, to point out that Tolkien probably has enough alcohol at home for three parties as big as this, but he decides against it when he notices the nervous twitch in Tweek’s left eye. The shortest blond looks even paler than usual, his watery green iris shooting from place to place, lips pressed against each other. His socks are mismatched, his shirt is buttoned in a way so wrong it’s actually almost admirable. Even his hair seems more all over the place than usual.

“Hey, Tweek!” He shouts, seeing as the pale blond looks around like some lost puppy. With the window already rolled all the way down, never minding the way his questionable taste in music leaked into the street, Kenny shoves his head outside the car. “Over here!”

The poor guy seems confused, but who could really blame him? He probably was expecting some old car, like those most kids in South Park sported. Kenny, however, had decided to show up in an ancient truck that had “TEGRIDY FARM: Farming with Tegridy” written all over the front and sides, just in case the huge logo that painted most of it wasn’t visible enough.

“Isn’t this…?” Tweek hesitated to ask, as he made his way to the only passenger seat available. The door stubbornly refused to open.

“Yeah, it’s Mr.Marsh’s. It’s a bit roughed up, so he was about to throw it away.” Kenny says, as he reaches from the driver’s seat and, rather forcefully, opens the door. The way the truck slightly shakes does not look too inviting for Tweek. “He lets me use it so long as I agree to run some errands for him once in a while.”

Tweek nodded absentmindedly. The strong smell emanating from the inside of the truck felt like a punch to his guts. It was a dreadful mi of overly strong lemon or pine (maybe both) air fresheners, as if trying to cover the still very distinguishable weed stink. It almost made him want to cough, even with both windows rolled down.

Kenny laughs, noticing the scrunch in Tweek’s nose.

“Yeah, sorry about that.” He already starts driving away, as Tweek rushes to put on the seatbelt. The car wobbles a bit, and it's rather slow. “I tried to get rid of the smell, but… Well, I guess you can tell it didn’t work.”

Tweek nodded, trying to breathe slowly through his mouth instead. IT didn’t really help.

“H-Have you tried an odor neutralizer?”

“That sounds fancy.” Kenny answers, as he takes a right turn. He’s clearly trying to drive as calmly as possible, but Tweek can still feel this uncomfortable ache in his stomach, slowly stretching to his throat. “I’m not sure that’d fit on my monthly budget, I’m afraid.”

The shorter man wants to tell Kenny he could get it for him, but decides against it. He didn’t want to come off as rude, and he had already crossed the line earlier today with the parka.

Instead, he clears his throat.

“What about coffee grounds?”

Kenny laughs as a response. He now takes a left turn, and Tweek feels his entire body shoot against the door next to him. The taller boy shares an apologetic smile. It just had been so long since Tweek even mentioned caffeine. He was starting to fear the kid he once knew had been abducted and replaced by the same aliens that go around anal probing people. 

“I guess I could try that one.” He replies, trying to continue driving as carefully as possible. “You still drink coffee? You know, the meth-free type.”

“I… Haven’t. Not in a while.” Tweek answers, his gaze lowering. Kenny wonders if his question was a bit too much. “I can’t say I don’t miss it, though. I just don’t feel ready just yet.”

Kenny nods, still tapping away his finger. Tweek realizes he’s also softly moving his head with the music, and can’t help but smile widely to himself.

Craig always hated that sort of music. He said it brought him bad memories, memories of that time he somehow ended up in Perú out of all places, and that weird guinea pig episode. Whenever they passed by one of those bands, be it in the mall or the street, they’d have to walk quickly until the sound was drowned by background noise.

It was nice to hear it peacefully once in a while.

They continue the rest of the brief trip in a comfortable silence. At some point, when Tweek felt one “El cóndor pasa'' away from jumping out of the window (Yes, listening to the music was calming, but he truly wished the CD had some more variety), Kenny started softly humming to himself, as if he had forgotten there was anyone else in the truck at all. Something about his voice made Tweek decide that maybe, just maybe, the song wasn’t that overrated.

The truck paused, and as softly as Kenny tried to steer the wheel, it was abrupt enough for Tweek to let go of a little “Eeek!”. Honestly, it was about time. Even though he had doused himself in cologne before leaving, Tweek was by now completely sure he reeked of nothing else than air freshener and weed.

He was about to rush out of the truck, when Kenny stopped him,  pointing with his chin towards his shirt..

“You may want to fix that.” The taller man commented, making Tweek rushedly and clumsily fix his buttons with shaky hands. Seeing how long it takes him, Kenny sighs. Tweek’s afraid he’s annoying him, but once he raises his green eyes from his own clothes, all he sees is Kenny’s soft, warm smile. “May I?”

Tweek doesn’t find the strength to answer, his face bright red. He used to misbutton  his shirt all the time as a kid: He always had shaky hands, a distracted mind and parents who wouldn’t look twice his way if it wasn’t to give him his daily to-do list.

It’s not like he ever really grew out of his habit, either. It was Craig who would normally help him with his shirt. When they broke up, he simply… Avoided this sort of stuff.

But this shirt, it just was so pretty. And the fabric felt nice against the skin on his chest, soft and velvety…

Without mustering a word, he simply nods, and Kenny quickly fixes up his shirt. Tweek tries hard to look away, reminding himself where he is, who he is with. Kenny’s hands were rougher than Craig’s, warmer to the touch. Unlike Craig, who’d button up his shirt to the very last button, Kenny makes a point to leave one of the buttons undone, showing off his slender neck. He does his best to focus on the differences. He convinces himself there’s no tenderness in the way Kenny’s hands fix his collar, even though there’s not really any need for it. He pries his eyes away when he finds himself losing his breath over just how breathtaking Kenny’s baby blue eyes look so up close, how long his eyelashes are.

“There you go” he finally says, leaning back on his seat once again. Kenny’s eyes examine his work, running up and down Tweek’s torso. The shortest man can’t help but feel a little bit freaked out by it, but he does his best to act as put together as he can manage. “Old habits die hard, huh?”

You have no idea, Tweek thinks, as he tries hard to open the damn door again. It takes Kenny leaving the door first and pulling from the outside for the door to finally give up and let Tweek go. He secretly hopes that by the end of the night he’s not too drunk to open that damn door.

Kenny stretches, and finally Tweek gets a good look at his outfit. Of course, the parka had stood out to him even inside the truck, its bright orange color definitely hard to ignore. Other than that, every single item of clothing that covered Kenny’s body was nothing but pitch black. Be it his t-shirt, with a generous collar, or the probably-too-tight-to-be–comfortable jeans he had surely wriggled and struggled his way in, nothing could even pass for a darker gray. 

“For someone who enjoys wearing a frilly, shiny pink dress every afternoon, you sure dress… Different, now.”

Now it’s Kenny’s  cheeks that turn a dusty shade of pink, as they both walk along the sidewalk, the gate of Tolkien’s residence visible already.

“That’s just for the theater, I’m afraid.” He replies, trying to sound as unbothered as possible. “I didn’t know you liked it that much.”

His idea to make Tweek even more embarrassed than him to stop him from asking any more questions seems to work, but he knows it’s just temporary. They both knew that nobody else ever wore the costumes on every single practice (it would be a hassle, to dress and undress repeatedly), and Kenny could probably just ask for a slight change in the script if he wanted to play a guy anyways. It’s not like making the theater a gay romance would change much, anyways.

“You do look pretty in a dress” Tweek manages to mumble. It’s a miracle, but Kenny does hear most of it. Enough to understand, anyways, and feel his cheeks heat up. “You’ve got a nice waist.”

“Hey, do you want a jealous Craig to wreck MY shit now?” Kenny jokes his embarrassment away, as they both finally reach Tolkien’s mansion. The gates, unlike usual, are wide open and they don’t even have to talk to anyone. Kenny’s glad, anyways, since he does not have a good relationship with any of the security guards in town. “Stan and Kyle are going to be inside, so I probably will hang out with them for a while. Do you wanna join?”

Tweek shakes his head. Stan and Kyle are nice guys, but they always end up getting caught in some ridiculous shenanigan Tweek wanted to know nothing about.

“I still have a lot of old friends I need to talk to” He makes up a half-lie. “I should probably… Go catch up with them.”

Kenny nods, but makes a mental note to ask Butters to keep an eye on Tweek. Sure, he’s a grown man now who can surely take care of himself, but it doesn’t really hurt to be careful. Not when there’s a certain someone out to get him anyways.

The lights made Tweek feel light headed even before he took the first sip off his drink. Honestly, he’s not even very sure about whatever is in his hand anymore. It’s somewhat sweet, so that’s nice. It also felt cold against his lips, even though it burned its way down his stomach and throat.

He was lost in a sea of people, pushing and pulling, lulling him into a weird sense of comfort. Some faces are familiar, he can make out people telling him the same things they always do. Telling him he looks healthier, steadier now. Some even hug him, but he doesn’t even bother returning the gesture, and just basks in the warmth of bodies. Everything feels so… Nice.

He has to blink very slowly to remind himself he does have things to do. 

Sure, he doesn’t exactly have friends here anymore. He’s not sure how his old group would react to seeing him again. But still… He needed to try. To get closure, in any way. And now, several drinks in, he has the courage to do it.

Tolkien’s easy to tell apart from the crowd. He has a distinguished air about him, and Tweek doesn’t know if its his designer clothes or the impeccable way his hair is cut (having enough money to pay one of those fancy barbers surely does wonders) but he just sticks out like a sore thumb amidst a bunch of stoned, drunk young adults that reek of both alcohol and sweat.

It takes him a while to make his way though the people, and his own drunken state didn’t help. Luckily, he too must stick out, because soon he notices Tolkien himself is looking in his direction, eyes wide in surprise. For a couple seconds, Tweek fears he’s about to get kicked out of the party. Maybe they’d ban him from South Park forever, for having been such a dick to his friends, to his boyfriend, Maybe they’d imprison him. Tolkien’s a cop, isn’t he? Plus, he’s rich. He probably could murder him and get away with it.

Against all his predictions, though, Tolkien smiles as he engulfs the blond young man in a warm, tight hug.

“Tweek! You’re back!” He says, a bit too loudly, but his voice just oozes affection. He take Tweek by the shoulders, breaking the hug but keeping him close. “Dude, I didn’t think we’d ever get to see you again!”

“I-I’m sorry” Tweek’s voice breaks, but he tries hard to keep up a sweet smile. “It was… It hasn’t been easy.”

“It’s fine, Tweek. What’s important is that you’re here. And look at you! You look so much better…” Tolkien seems genuinely excited, as he once again hugs Tweek. The blond boy almost feels like a young kid visiting his grandma. “I have to tell the guys about this!”

Tweek’s blood runs cold in a matter of seconds.

“No!” He screams, a lot louder than he wanted. He now is incredibly thankful to the very loud, very obnoxious music. “I-I… I’ll look for them. Please, don’t tell Craig I’m here.”

Tolkien looked at him in a mix of concern and curiosity before a sparkle of realization crosses his profound gaze. He remembers his friend showing up with bruised knuckles a couple days ago, and a sour mood that still doesn’t seem to dissipate. IT’s not really weird for Craig to get into fights, and he’s never been a particularly cheerful kid (especially since his boyfriend vanished) but he usually would already be bitching about whatever drunkard he fought a week ago.

He didn’t though. And now, finally realizing Tweek’s still slightly bruised nose, he understands why.

Tolkien swallows hard.

“I’m sorry, Tweek. He.. Never really learned how to manage his anger.”

“Yeah, I can tell '' Tweek answers, trying to laugh off the painful memories. “It’s fine. I… Should've done things differently.”

“Glad we can agree on something.”

The nasal voice behind him freaks Tweek out enough to let the shitty plastic cup in his hand squeeze, splashing himself with its content.

The blonde boy turns around slowly, although he already knows who is right behind him.

“Craig, back off, you’re scaring him” Tolkien’s voice is firm, almost like a father scolding his child. Tweek feels a bit better when he feels his hand upon his own shoulder. “You’re better than this.”

Craig scowled, and Tweek flitched even though the taller man didn’t move an inch.  There’s just something incredibly intimidating about the abnormally deep blue eyes that scrutinize his own. A gaze that he remembered full of tenderness and devotion, understanding and patience, now burns with the purest of hatred.

“No I’m fucking not, you dick.”He flips off Tolkien. The gesture is almost childish, but so incredibly Craig-like that Tweek can feel his heart ache, painfully sweet memories flooding his brain. “You have guts, Tweak. I backed off from that stupid theater club for your sake, but you seem to think what you got wasn’t enough.”

Tweek looks the other way. He hated being called by his surname. He just wanted to see the old Craig again, the dead pan kid who’d never call him anything other than “honey” or “babe”, even in public,making other kids gag. His childhood sweetheart, who’d tell him curious facts about the stars he never thought he’d care about. The kid with stars on his ceiling and his eyes, who’d hold his hand and kiss his cheek before going to sleep while RedRacer sounded in the background.

Instead, the man towering over him seems like some complete stranger. Cold eyes, covered by his raven hair. Did he stop wearing his chullo, or did he just not bring it?

He must’ve stared far too long, because the next thing he feels is a tug, and realizes there’s no longer any proper floor beneath his fit. Craig lifts him off the floor by the collar of his shirt like he weighed nothing more than a couple grapes. Sure, he had stunted growth, and was slightly underweight- that’s what taking meth during key developmental stages will do to you- but he didn’t consider himself to be THAT vulnerable.

Still, he couldn’t keep himself from staring a bit. Did Craig take up any sports? He wasn’t too into them when they were young, but people can surely change as time goes by. Tweek’s silence as he very obviously checked Craig out did not please the black haired boy, who in spite of Tolkien’s warning words, forcefully threw him against the ground.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Craig asks,  unmoving. At some point, Clyde must’ve arrived, because he’s right behind him, trying helplessly to pull him away from the scene. Craig doesn’t really budge. “Do you really have nothing to say?”

Tweek lies still on the floor, the only proof that he’s not knocked out being the way his body shakes and twitches. His brain is still foggy enough for nothing to hurt too much, nor make too much sense, but he can’t really find the strength to move. As he opens his eyes, he feels everything spinning.

Only one thing is clear in his mind. One feeling that he has buried deep in his chest, one feeling he’s had locked up in the basement of his soul.

He struggles to raise, but Craig doesn’t strike him down. As mad as he is, Craig seems to be at least curious about whatever the now slightly battered blonde is about to say.

“You…” His voice shakes, but it’s clear as day in Craig’s ears. He has spent so many years waiting to hear that exact voice again, he would recognize it in the middle of any choir. “You think it was -GAH- easy for me? You think I’m not mad? That I fucking wanted everything to happen the way it did?”

“Of course you’d make it about you! Should I feel sorry that you couldn’t even end our relationship like a normal fucking human being?” Craig refuted, feeling his own nails digging into his palms, a warm, unwelcomed sting in his eyes. “You’re a selfish dick, Tweek. No fucking wonder why even your aunt left you.”

Tweek launches himself forward, and before he even realizes what he’s doing, he’s on top of Craig. The soft cheeks he once kissed and nuzzled felt like nothing under his fist, numbed by the alcohol. He manages to get one, two, three good hits in before someone with strong and warm arms pulls him away. Craig, however, not to be one-upped, immediately retaliates.

It’s a messy fight, with both Clyde and Tolkien trying to pull them apart, but their words don’t even register on either of their minds. Just like many years ago, Craig and Tweek were in their own little bubble. This time, however, it felt more like some boxing ring.

Kenny for one has a very varied mix of feelings. Relief, knowing that asking his old friend Butters to keep an eye on Tweek was, indeed, the right thing to do. A bit of pride, too, seeing that Tweek was still the same troublemaker he had been in his childhood, not willing to turn the other cheek and take a beating. Even though Craig was definitely bigger, it’s safe to assume this time it’s the black haired boy who has taken the most hits. But, above all, he was just… Panicked. 

He’s usually the one who starts fights, not the one who gets in the middle. He’s pretty sure he’s died trying to do that before, though, and he vaguely remembers it not being a really pleasant experience.

He takes a deep breath. Finally, when he sees an opening, Clyde finally getting a firm hold of Craig, he swipes in, taking a very violently shaking and twitching Tweek in his hands, arms hooked beneath the shorter man’s, and offering an apologetic smile to Tolkien.

“Sorry, I think we should leave.”

He doesn't really wait for any response before he rushes to the doorway, ignoring Craig’s last efforts to  insult Tweek. When he finally manages to drag him all the way to the truck, he carefully tries to let him down on the back. He weighs less than he would’ve expected, but Kenny knows better than to comment on it.

“...Got anything to say?”

Tweek avoids his gaze, and the question feels almost like a bullet piercing through his already more than broken heart. With the cold night breeze, he can feel himself slowly sobering up. His aching knuckles, his bruised stomach, the slow and rhythmic way the blood is dripping down his hose (yet again), meeting his lips and jumping from his chin into the very much ruined shirt. Everything stinks of alcohol, and his hands feel sticky in an odd mixture of blood, sweat and what he guesses is the drink he spilled.

“...He deserved it.”

Kenny sighs at his response. It’s not like he wanted to babysit anyone tonight. His plan was to arrive, make sure Stan’s drunk state reminds in the “will sing his heart out to some edgy old lady music” rather than in the “will try to jump off a window screaming his undying love for Wendy Testaburger” category, and maybe hook up with some hot, faceless individual before getting home.

Still, it’s kind of his fault for bringing Tweek here. And, well, it’s not like it wasn’t true. Craig deserved that beating ever since he decided to be a dick in the theater group.

“Do you deserve this, though?” Kenny says, carefully checking Tweek for his injuries. He regrets not having a first-aid kit in his truck, and makes a mental note to get one in the near future. Tweek looks away, still shaking, quiet. “You don’t, Tweek. You’re a good kid”

“Gah- I’m not a fucking kid!” The shortest blond shouts, involuntarily stretching his arm and soon hissing in pain. He probably sprained his wrist, judging by the way it’s swollen. “Why does everyone treat me like this? You’re like… Five months older than me, at most!”

“Tweek, I know you’re mad, but I don’t think it’s me you want to scream at.'' Kenny's voice is sweet and soft, a lower pitch than usual. Tweek can’t say he was expecting it, but it sort of helps calming him down. He now realizes that, much like Tolkien had done earlier, Kenny has both his hands on his shoulders, keeping him steady. “I’m here to help you, alright? Not because you’re some kid, but because you’re my friend.”

Tweek doesn’t really know how to answer. He just tries his best to stay still, hissing a bit when he feels something against his pained back, scrapped raw from that first time Craig had shoved him. When something orange enters his field of view, he realizes it's the parka he had bought that very day, shielding him from the cold.

“You don’t have to-”

“I want to.” Kenny cuts him, still smiling, as he brushes a strand of hair off his sweaty forehead. Tweek flinches a bit, his scalp sore from hair-pulling (he doesn’t know whether he should be proud this time it wasn’t him pulling out his own hair or not.). “I think we should get you to the doctor, Tweek. You’re not looking to good.”

The way Tweek quickly and desperately nods completely shuts down the idea.

“I-I don’t have… I don’t…”

“Alright, no doctor then.” Kenny interrupts again, realizing the shortest guy is just making it worse for himself. There’s a lot of mixed feelings going through his pale face, and his anger seems to have morphed into a weird frustrated sort of sadness. “Do you have anywhere safe you can go?”

Tweek shakes his head. Definitely not his parents, not after what they had done. And the Tuckeres were quite obviously off-limits, so there goes all his connections in South Park.

“Do you live alone?” Kenny asks, and Tweek just nods as a response. The taller man sighs. It’s probably not a good idea to leave Tweek alone, not like this. He could get a nasty fever if any of those cuts got infected. “I think you should come with me, Tweek. I have some first aid stuff at home.”

Tweek looks at him with a horrified face. Kenny surprises himself finding it somewhat endearing.

“Hey, dude, I told you I moved out. My parents won’t be there, and neither will the weirdos in my old backyard.” The beaten up blond visibly sighs and relaxes, making Kenny almost laugh out loud. His memory was awful when drunk. “It’s only me and my sister, but we have a free room we kept for my brother. He’s never home, so you can have your own space, alright?”

Tweek nods.

Chapter Text

Alcohol stings, a lot, and Tweek hisses. Kenny just calmly continues patting the cotton against his bare back, trying his best not to waver. He still makes a point to trace small circles with his left hand, that he keeps in the shorter man’s shoulder to keep him as steady as he can.

Far from reassuring him, the gentleness in Kenny’s touch just makes Tweek feel worse, as he bites his lower lip,a copperish taste invading his mouth.

Alcohol is now far removed from his system, and so is whatever adrenaline he had. 

Most people aren’t really afraid of herbivores. Be it the deer and their slender legs or the tranquil cows that munch their time away on the green fields, most people treat them as harmless animals. Tweek, however, knew better. He knew that, when push comes to shove, he’d much rather share his space with a lion or a panther rather than with a startled bull, or a hippopotamus in any condition. Because when it comes to violence, fear can be so much more potent than anger. When an animal thinks that its either you or them who makes it out alive, they’ll fight twice as hard. No apex predator could simulate that power.

That’s why Tweek was so good at boxing, and usually came out victorious after every single street altercation. He has been afraid of everything, for as long as he can remember. When he sees his opponent, when he feels his gaze, there’s a very recognizable cold sweat that dances down his back. He blanks out and, by the time it’s over, he’s the last one standing.

Sadly, it also means that Tweek fights with absolutely no regard towards his own physical limitations. He will keep on throwing punches when his wrists get sprained, when his knuckles are bruised, bloodied, battered. And this time, that Craig son of a whore had gotten him good.

“I don’t think you’ll be able to lay down for a week” Kenny says, and even though his tone is slightly playful, the way he eyes the large red patch in Tweek’s back reveals clear worry. “Didn’t Bebe’s design for you include a corset? That’s gonna hurt like hell…”

Tweek doesn’t answer, but it doesn’t surprise anyone. He’s been quiet the entire way here, just nodding and shaking his head on occasion.  Kenny just sighs, as he gently helps Tweek turn around, now facing him.

“You gave Craig a good beating.” The taller man softly says, his voice low. He didn’t want to disturb Karen, who’s deep asleep in her room. He takes a new piece of alcohol-drenched cotton pad and now pats it on Tweek’s cheek, leaning a bit too close. “I guess he’ll now think twice before approaching you again.”

The sudden sadness in Tweek’s eyes doesn’t sit right with Kenny. Its almost as if he’d rather have his boyfriend be an aggressive dick than have him gone from his life. 

“Do you miss him?”

The question doesn’t even surprise the shorter blond, as he looks the other way. Kenny’s face is so close to his own he can feel his breath on his lips, the warmth emanating from his body on his own.

“How could I not?” Tweek’s voice sounds broken, shaky, barely a mumble that Kenny can only hear because of their short, almost nonexistent distance. He wasn’t expecting himself to be this sincere, but whether it's the accumulated heart ache, the physical pain or whatever alcohol is left on his system, Tweek can’t stop his words from spilling out.  “I can’t forget him, Kenny. Every single day I just… Keep thinking about him. I see his face everywhere, I hear his voice…”

Kenny sighs, Tweek feels it in his ear. The taller man has moved a bit to the left, just enough to comfortably reach the throbbing injury Tweek sports in his jawline. 

“Even now?” He asks again, continuing his job delicately but firmly as Tweek tries to squirm and turn away. “He’s done quite a number on you, too.”

“I’m angry.” Tweek admits in a defeated voice.  He closes his eyes momentarily in relief when Kenny stops patting his jaw. By the time he opens them again, he’s faced with baby-blue eyes, staring right into his soul. Somehow, he doesn’t feel too startled by their scrutiny. Just… Nervous. “I… I wished I hated him. I should.”

“Yeah… You should” Kenny replies, softly taking Tweek’s chin and making him turn his face up and down, left and right, carefully checking for any more cuts. “He’s a dick.”

Tweek cracks a smile, and Kenny leans away from him, his eyes now focusing on Tweek’s bare torso. 

“Maybe that’s just my type.” 

“Oh, c’mon, dude, you deserve better than that.” Kenny replies, starting to work on the red scratches around Tweek’s neck. He wouldn't ever say a word about it, but he enjoys the way his “patient” twitches and presses his lips on a thin line to avoid making any loud noises. “He’s not even cute enough to make up for his shitty personality.”

Tweek lets go of a breathy laugh that is quickly interrupted by a little pained scream that Kenny manages to hush by pressing his hand  against his mouth with a playful smile. He lets go sooner than Tweek would’ve wanted, missing the warmth against his lips. Kenny sighs, as he leaves Tweek’s neck alone. He knows far too well how it can sting, and he can’t risk waking Karen up.

“Yeah, his teeth are all fucked up” Tweek says, as if Craig’s smile isn’t his favorite view in the entire world. As if he didn’t cry himself to sleep thinking about him every night for over two years. “His voice is so weird, too. And can you believe he was wearing all black? It’s so obvious blue’s his color…”

Kenny notices the way Tweek’s voice ends up breaking, the way his chest shakes slightly against his own touch.  Even though there’s a vacant smile on the shorter man’s lips, iit becomes clear to him that he’s trying his best not to cry. 

“That’s rude. “ He says, still patting away, but now looking directly at Tweek. “I’m wearing black, too.”

Tweek sobs a little, trying to steady his breathing. Kenny tries his best to be as gentle as possible while he carefully places some band-aids wherever he thinks they might be needed.

“It looks better on you.” He does his best to keep his tone steady, to wipe his tears with the back of his hands. “Black brings out your eyes.”

Kenny lets go of a breathy laugh. It’s endearing, seeing Tweek try his best to remain as calm as possible, even though he’s all beaten up, even though he’s clearly not having the night of his life. Finally, he steps away from Tweek, picking up and closing the first aid kit, silently noting the slight pout in tweek’s lips as he walks away.

“I can get you some painkillers, but I can’t really guarantee they’ll do much.” Kenny says, putting the small white can back in its place. He turns towards Tweek, leaning against the counter. The ex-caffeine addict looks like some scared animal, bathed by the dim, warm light of the small kitchen, sitting timidly in the chair, now all patched up. “As for the heartache… All I can do is offer you a smoke.”

“I don’t really do tobacco.” Tweek replies, a bit awkward. 

“That’s great, me neither. Mr.Marsh gifted me some of his leftover product”

Tweek’s eyes go a bit wide in realization, and then he smiles, wobbling out of the chair. His improvised nurse quickly reaches to aid him, letting Tweek rest his weight on his shoulder.

“We can’t really do it here, though. I wouldn’t want my kitchen to stink.” Kenny says, patiently guiding Tweek towards a semi-open door he pushes with his left hand. “I’m going to need you to trust me in this one.”

Tweek wants to ask, but once the door is fully opened, he gets distracted.

It’s Kenny’s bedroom, that’s quite obvious. There’s a bed, somewhere beneath a messy bed sheet that has been just thrown on top and a couple magazines full of half-naked women.

The desk is tinny, but fully covered in notes and books, that spread even to the bed-side table and some parts of the floor. On the walls, even more half-naked women smile vacantly at Tweek, with the only exception of  the pictures right next to the desk.

The one on the left is of a much younger Eric Cartman, who pulls Kenny into a half-remembrance in front of Casa Bonita. There’s another one, where Tweek’s recognizes Kenny’s old gang, dressed in their Sunday best. Right next to them, bright golden balloons read “HAPPY PROM” rather obnoxiously.

Tweek smiles to himself. Some things never change. Kenny might’ve doubled his size, but he’s still the same dirty-minded kid he had always been. Friendly to a fault, the kind of kid who’d put his life on the line for his friend’s sake.

It’s Kenny’s little “pst” that bursts the shorter blonde’s bubble, keeping him from analyzing any more pictures. He now realizes that the golden-haired man has headed straight to the window, his orange parka contrasting against the night sky, making it impossible to look at anything other than him.

It takes a second for Tweek to realize what’s going on. He quickly rushes towards Kenny, trying to pull him out of the window and inside the room.

“D-Dude, what on Earth Are you doing? Gah-!”

Kenny’s hand once again makes Tweek shut up, not moving even an inch from the window, as he points right behind him towards the fire escape stair.

“We’re on the last floor, the rooftop is right above us.” Kenny tries to sound reassuring as he can, stepping out of the window and into the rather unstable looking metal platform outside. He seems calm, though, as if he’s done it a hundred times before. After all, he pulled way more dangerous stunts as Mysterion. “I’ll be right next to you, alright? You don’t have to worry.”

“You’re drunk, aren’t you?” Tweek asks, scrunching up his nose. Kenny doesn’t really smell of alcohol at all, but then again, his nose was a bloody mess right now, so its not like he can fully trust himself.

“I didn’t drink a single drop, Tweek. I don’t do drunk driving.” Kenny answers, almost in an offended tone. “Being run over is an awful way to die, trust me.”

Tweek wants to question how on Earth would Kennny know that, but he keeps quiet, hesitating. It takes him a few minutes before mumbling a tinny “fuck it” and finally stepping out of the window and into the unknown.

He feels Kenny’s firm but gentle grab on his waist, avoiding the side that had been hurt and the center of his pained back. It only lasts for a minute, though. The moment Tweek seems to finally trust the platform, Kenny lets go with an encouraging smile. 

“Well done, sweetheart.” He says, his voice too sweet, the same tone he uses when talking to Karen. It feels weirdly demeaning, but Tweek doesn’t really say anything about it, focusing too hard on trying not to look down. “Let’s get this over with.”

Kenny keeps encouraging the silent Tweek as they make their way up a single flight of stairs. The shorter blonde feels so embarrassed by his fear he doesn’t even register that Kenny is still speaking until he reaches the rooftop, immediately rushing to the firm ground before turning around. He just plops down on the ground, ignoring the pain in his back, breath going up and down rapidly as he breathes rapidly.

He wonders when Kenny reached his side, lying down right next to him. He doesn’t really complain, though. His slow breathing helps him calm down.

“It wasn’t that bad, was it?” Kenny asks, only earning a soft punch on his arm. It’s Tweek who hisses, his bruising knuckles clearly hurting. “Easy there, tiger. Is this how you pay me back for helping you?”

Tweek rolls his eyes, but he finds himself smiling widely. He finally notices the stars right above him, gently twinkling like spilled sugar.

“Thank you, Kenny.” 

“Think of it as payback for your little parka stunt” He replies, handing Tweek something he has been tinkering with. It takes Tweek a couple seconds to identify the object. “Now we’re even.”

“I don’t think we are, '' Tweek replies, taking the pale blunt in his hand.The little piece of rolled up leaves pales in the moonlight, unlighted. Its smell is not too pleasant, but Tweek doesn’t complain. “I still owe you for the car ride.”

Kenny laughs, as he rolls up another blunt, with so much ease Tweek can’t help but marvel. His hands are really pretty. Tweek finds himself rolling over his back, now lying on his side just to get a better look at such craftsmanship. The pain feels much more bearable already.

“Well, my bright idea ended up with you almost knocked out in Tolkien's basement, so does it really count?.”

“That was fully on Craig” Tweek complained. “I know he’s mad, but dammit, does he still have to act like we’re ten?”

“Still, I left you alone. I should’ve brought you along.” Kenny seems to already be finished with his joint, as he unceremoniously puts it in between his lips. He’s now searching in his pocket for a lighter. “I knew that dude wasn’t right in the head. Hasn’t been for a while now.”

Tweek silently nods, hypnotized by the beautiful yellow glow of the flame that Kenny’s bright pink lighter spills on the navy night sky. His eyes closely follow it, as it approaches and finally lights his blunt, the warm lighting bathing Kenny’s face on its soft glow.  His freckles are more visible now, almost as if reflecting the infinite sky. The view is breathtaking.

“Y-Yeah…” He finds himself clumsily trying to follow up the conversation, face burning up. If Kenny noticed his staring, he didn’t mind. “I don’t really want to talk about it anymore, though.”

Distracted, he brings his own blunt to his lips, forgetting its not even lighted. Kenny chuckles, clearly entertained. Tweek’s about to make up an excuse, when he feels the taller man’s hands on the tape of his neck. He slowly approaches the basically shaking blond, who’s pretty sure the only thing keeping his body from twitching itself into the void is the tiredness in his muscles. Kenny’s eyes close as he closes up on him, and he feels himself doing the same. Soon, his joint is lighted by tha parka-wearing blond, who pulls away with a gentle grin.

“Then, why don’t you tell me something about the theater club?” Kenny asks, unbothered, casual. Tweek is dying silently. The smoke leaving the taller man’s lips floats up to the sky in a truly mesmerizing dance, and Tweek can’t help but feel jealous of it.“How are you liking the script?”

Tweeks first takes puff off the blunt. If weed doesn’t see him through this, nothing will. At least he’s glad the conversation has changed themes.

“It’s fine.” He answers, watching the smoke leave his lips, too, trying to concentrate on anything other than Kenny’s deep gaze. “I’m not really a big fan of the ending, though. Feels like… Unnecessary drama.”

“Yeah, I don’t really get why the prince kills himself.” Kenny continues speaking, closing his eyes, focusing on the fuzzy feeling on his head. “Wendy insisted it’d be deeper like that, though. Like some Romeo and Juliet situation.”

Tweek looks weirdly confused.

“What? No. I meant the princess's death.”

Now it's Kenny who rolls to lay in his side, facing Tweek directly.

“Her death is the logical conclusion to the plot, though” He argues “It’s the only way to break the curse’s cycle.”

“Well, that’s the thing! Is it really a curse?” Tweek’s eyes sparkle as he speaks, reflecting the moon above. “Sure, I guess dying THAT many times isn’t too pleasant. But she keeps coming back! She’s like… Practically immortal, right?. Wouldn’t it be more logical for her to, I don’t know, become a firefighter? Or an astronaut! She can’t really die, why not use it for the betterment of the world?”

“Maybe she has.” Kenny replied. It felt a bit too personal, but it’s not like Tweek could know why. Even if he had told him in the past, when they were still kids, nobody ever remembers. “But in the end, it must get tiring. She still feels pain, every single time… It’s probably driving her nuts.”

“So she decides to die? Feeling pain again?” Tweek insists. “It just feels… Wrong. It’s not the coming back to life that hurts her. It's dying. So why die again? And isn’t a magic blade found randomly by the love interest a bit too… I don’t know. Plot-convenient?”

Kenny laughs softly, before taking a long puff. Any coherent idea about the conversation leaves Tweek’s body, as he realizes how soft the other boy’s lips looked, how his curled eyelashes created a lovely shadow on his closed eyelids. 

“I guess it is.” Kenny says, opening his eyes slowly. “Don’t let Wendy hear you criticizing her script, though. She’ll probably bite your head off.”

Now it’s Tweek who laughs, the soft embrace of weed starting to warm up his brain, dulling the pain away. He finds his breath unconsciously synchronized with Kenny’s, slow and steady, peaceful as if about to fall asleep, never minding the cold or the hard floor beneath them.

Kenny stares deep into his eyes for a straight minute. Tweek feels nervous, but remembers his therapist’s advice. When someone’s gaze is making you nervous, you should focus on remembering their eye color. Look at them like you’d look at a painting, or a vase. Nothing scary, just… Something to look into.

It sort of helps, in a way, that Kenny has such a particular eye color. A light blue, with some specks of hazel here and there. Almost like a puddle on a cold winter morning. A warm, cozy fire bubbling up inside a cold glacier. Calming, and yet welcoming; Innocent and yet oh so mischievous, with the way they light up the moment Kenny has one of his oh so great ideas. 

Unlike Craig’s deep, ocean-like eyes that Tweek felt himself drowning in, Kenny’s were more like an inviting little pool you could simply float around in. They were daisies, jasmines, forget-me-nots. Summer nights in your childhood where you had nothing better to do than laughing.

Tweek doesn’t know for how long he’s been looking into his friend’s reddish eyes, but by the time he comes back to his senses, Kenny’s fondly smiling, tugging softly att his hand.

“You’re smoking the filter at this point, Tweekers. Not a great idea.” Tweek realizes Kenny’s right, and immediately puts away what’s left of the joint. “I didn’t know you were such an… Adept.”

“I-I’m not!” Twteek quickly defends himself, feeling his cheeks burning up. “M-My therapist prescribed them to me.  For withdrawal. I try my best to only smoke when I have no other option.”

Kenny nods, taking his own blunt away from his lips, the cloud of smoke flying towards Tweek, who is now more aware of the lack of distance between them than he was before. Breathing in the smoke, he closes his eyes, fearing he might stare again.

“It’s fine, dude. I get it.” The taller man says, smiling as usual. “I try not to overdo it, too. At least for as long as Karen’s saying with me.”

No more words needed to be said. There’s a mutual understandment, a mutual feeling: They don’t want to repeat their parent’s mistakes. They don’t want to hurt others the way others have hurt them, no matter how hard it gets. Sure, they might not be perfect, but they can still be better.

“In fact, I don’t think I’m really in the mood to keep going.” Kenny suddenly continues, offering what’s left of his blunt to Tweek. “Why don’t you finish it? I’d hate to see good stuff go to waste, and you seem to be doing pretty fine.”

Tweek finds himself giddy like a teenager, thinking about how it would be an indirect kiss. He quickly nods, taking the cigar to his lips without so much as a speck of hesitation. Kenny seems amused by his eagerness, still watching him closely.

“Does the prince need to die?”

The question surprises Kenny. He thought their little chat about the theater was long finished.

“I mean, sure, the love of his life just died, Boo-hoo.” Tweek continued, rolling his eyes. “It sucks, but… Is death really the only option? Are there no second chances?”

“There are.” Kenny replies, his tone mellow and calm. “Relationships are overrated, anyways.”

“Does the great Kenny McCormick not date?”

“Too much hassle.” The freckled man answered, ignoring any sarcasm present in the question. “I’m not really the settling-down type, anyways.”

“Yeah, I guess that makes sense…”

Kenny stares a bit, before feeling brave enough to ask the next question.

“What about you? Any Californian lovers out there?”

Tweek finds the question so ridiculous he can’t help but bitterly laugh. The idea of being with anyone other than Craig hadn’t ever even crossed his mind. Even after the breakup, even after how mad he got at him, there had always been a dim hope in his heart that, when they reunited, things would go back to the way they were. 

“Not really, no.”

“Listen, Tweek, I know you and Craig date all the way back, but…” Kenny pauses, wondering how he should word it. “You can’t let your youth go to waste, dude.”

“I’m gay, Kenny.” Tweek says, a slight bitterness in his tone. “There’s not really plenty of options here, at Southpark. The only other gay kid my age literally hates my fucking guts, and I’m not about to date some dude from Denver.”

Kenny laughs. Tweek guesses that by now he’s done it a hundred times, but it still felt insanely gorgeous. His slightly messed up teeth felt so… Humane. So wildly attractive, not unlike the freckled beauty right in front of his eyes. Puberty had truly hit him like a truck.

“So you truly think that out of the around five thousand people in South Park, you and Craig were the only queer dudes our age?” Kenny states it as if it were obvious. “It’s the 21st century, Tweek.  We’re everywhere.”

Something about the way he says “we” leaves Tweek dumbfounded for a little while, enough to choke on his joint, coughing slightly.

It shouldn’t surprise him, he knows. Kenny’s known for being down for whatever with just about anyone, so it made sense he’d swing every single way known to man. Stil, given his rather obvious obsession with the “fairest gender”, it still caught Tweek by surprise.

If Kenny notices his surprise, he doesn’t say anything. Tweek is starting to identify a pattern here.

“We should head back now, Tweekers.” He says, already standing up. “I have a morning shift tomorrow and you need some rest.”

Tweek doesn’t know why or how, but he finds himself holding Kenny’s parka in between shaky hands, the chill of the night he had ignored this entire time suddenly getting a hold of his body.

“Can’t we stay like this for a little longer?”

Kenny sighs, turning around to face Tweek again. He wears an understanding smile, but he doesn’t even sit down again.

“I’m sorry Tweek, but my shift starts in… three hours and a half.” He shares, eyeing the glowing hand-me-down flip phone in hand. “It’s going to be a tough day, can’t really pull an all-nighter.”

The shorter blonde wishes the Earth would just swallow him whole. He feels bad for being this needy, for keeping Kenny up this late, for being such a selfish asshole. He doesn’t realize his own tears until the salty droplets that fall on his scratched up chin makes him flinch a little.  

He desperately doesn’t want to be alone, with his thoughts, with his memories. He doesn’t want to face reality, not just yet.

Kenny sighs. 

“Alright. Sleepover it is. Come here, let's get you changed.”

Chapter Text

Tweek wakes up in Kenny’s bed. He barely remembers anything after that conversation in the rooftop, his sleepy mind taking its sweet time to piece the memories together. He slowly looks around, silently thanking Kenny for keeping the blinds shut halfway down. Migraine is killing Tweek, and even the small amount of sunlight that creeps through the blinds is blinding enough.

Kenny, of course, is nowhere to be found. Only some of his smell remains trapped in between his sheets, the vague dent in how they fold clear indicators of his past presence. 

Tweek yawns, but his temporary peace is broken by the memories flooding in. Memories of him pleading, of him basically begging on his knees for Kenny not to leave. Memories of an overly patient Kenny helping him get changed on some of his old pajamas, even if he’s pretty sure the taller man was about to pass out from sleep deprivation soon enough. Memories of them, together, in bed, cuddling while Tweek cried himself to sleep as silently as possible, nesting himself in the strawberry blond’s warm chest.

His entire face burns, but he decides to ignore it. He’d apologize to Kenny later, he’s probably already working anyways.

He carefully stands up, groaning as he feels his entire body ache. He’s not wearing last night’s button up, and he wonders where it is. Definitely not in the messy room, though. There might be papers and magazines laying everywhere, but Kenny seems to keep his laundry on check. A bit unexpected, but not unwelcome.

A very sleepy Tweek makes his way out of Kenny’s room, his oversized pajama doing its best to stay in place. Karen, who is calmly eating cereals on the kitchen table. The memories of Kenny tenderly tending to his wounds flashes in Tweek’s blurry, hungover mind. He smiles through the shame.

“You’re up” Says the young teenage girl, a shy smile barely showing up. She seems nervous. “Tweek, is it? My brother left something in the microwave for you.”

Tweek nods, feeling her nervousness rubbing off on him as he heads to the microwave.

“You’re Karen, right? Kenny talks a lot about you” He greets, trying to sound as friendly as he can manage through the headache. “You’ve grown a lot since I last saw you.”

Karen mumbles something that Tweek can’t really understand, as he checks the contents of the microwave. Inside the tinny, worn down electrodomestic Terrance and Philip’s faces smile at him, imprinted on an old mug. The smell of lavender tea gives away its content, and Tweek smiles to himself. A small piece of paper lying next to it, crumpled and with a messy handwriting, almost like a doctor’s. He takes it out, and turns on the microwave before reading it, letting the cup waltz around the orange lighting.

“Mornin’, sleeping beauty! There’s painkillers in the left drawer and cereals in the cupboard ;)”.

He smiles to himself, taking out the warm lavender tea. Tweek takes a peaceful, long sip, trying to ignore his throbbing head. Something about Kenny’s kindness soothes th epain.

“Are you Craig’s boyfriend?”

The spell is completely shattered, making Tweek cough and spill some of his drink.

“Agh- That’s- That’s not- Ugh!” He tries to answer, clearly freaking out, but realizing he might be scaring Karen, who’s just looking at him with big, curious eyes. “I’m Craig’s ex.”

“S-Sorry” Karen rushes to apologize, blushing. “Tricia said… Nevermind.”

Tweek’s face immediately lits up, as he sits down right in front of Karen. It’s been so long since he heard anything from Craig’s sister…

It felt painful. To remember that once he had been considered just another member of the Tucker family, to remember the times where Tricia would wait in front of the door, waiting for him to come out of Craig’s room so she could talk to him or show him her latest drawing.

It’s been so long… 

“How’s Tricia doing?” He asks, trying his best to remain calm. He should’ve taken those painkillers. “She must be around your age now.”

Karen nods her head.

“We’re in the same class.” She explains. “She’s probably my only friend at school right now.”

“She’s a nice kid.” Tweek’s voice is soft and melancholic. “So… She told you about me?”

“She mainly complained about you.” Karen answers, even though she knows it's not what Tweek would like to hear. “Tricia told me her brother and you were going through a rough patch, so now he’s being all annoying and moping around… She told me it was all better now, though.”

A “rough patch” is hardly what Tweek would call all these years of nothing but silence, and “all better” probably doesn’t quite describe the current situation, but he decides there’s no real need to point it out. 

“How… How is Craig doing?”

He didn’t really want to ask that. Well, he did. Actually, it was just… Complicated.

He couldn’t help but still care about his ex boyfriend, even if last night they were at each other's throat, even if his handprint is around Tweek’s forearm. It felt so… Pathetic.

Karen looks at him with concern clear in her eyes, wondering what she should do. She didn’t want to hurt Tweek any further, but lying had never been her forte. 

“Kenny left his wallet at home” She suddenly changes the conversation’s topic, pointing to an old, pink wallet on the counter. “The Denny’s he works at should be on your way to your dorms, so… Would you mind?”

Tweek nods, putting his now emptied cup on the sink.

“A Denny’s…” He mumbles to himself, feeling guilty about keeping Kenny awake so late and potentially disturbing him even in his sleep. “Sounds like an exhausting job.”

“I’ll handle that.” Karen says, as she gently pushes Tweek away from the faucet, starting to clean the dishes right away. Tweek is amused, seeing how diligent the young girl is, but too hungover to out-polite her. “My brother left some clothes for you in the bathroom.”

Craig is drinking vodka like he has some personal vendetta against his liver. Clyde tries his best to reassure him, patting his back, but it’s pretty sure he’s just as wasted.

They had left Tolkien’s house hours ago, but Craig insisted on not coming back home. Clyde couldn’t blame him, not with how absolutely horrible his friend looked. A black eye. A busted lip. Bruises blooming all over his body, in places Clyde didn’t even know were possible.

But the worst part of all were his eyes.

Something inside Craig had broken four years ago, it didn’t take a genius to know. Ever since Tweek disappeared, he had been down. But the first year, they seemed to manage. Clyde remembers the smile on Craig’s face when he got a text, even in the middle of the class. He remembers his friend leaving early from a party because he had some weird online date set up with his then boyfriend.

Nobody other than Craig and Tweek knows what happened four years ago, though. All Clyde knows is that his best friend disappeared for an entire week, excusing himself from school saying he had caught a particularly persistent cold. IT was Clyde who dragged his ass out, who forced him to get back on track, to put some effort on surviving.

But it didn’t matter how hard any of Craig’s friends tried, how his parents tried to cheer him up, the Craig they knew was long gone. The sparkle in his eyes had dulled, his soft smiles had completely disappeared. Even his flipping-off habit came back stronger than ever, getting him into trouble with the school again.

Eventually, everyone learned to live with this new version of Craig. Sure, it wasn’t as fun as it used to be, but it’s not like they could just dump their friend. 

It was different now, though. Craig no longer felt like a shell, like an impenetrable wall nobody could decipher.

The guy who slumps over Clyde’s kitchen table, with enough booze in his blood to rival Stan Marsh’s, is a broken man, but not an empty one. If anything, Craig just seems like an overfilled glass of water. His tears escape from his eyes without any regard for his pride, his sobs come out broken and pained, almost as if he wanted to scream and had no energy to do so. Clyde would’ve never thought his best friend could be such an ugly crier.

“Craig…”

Cluyde tries to reach out to his friend, who immediately looks back at him. Bloodshot eyes, tear-stained red cheeks, Craig’s never looked so vulnerable in the many years they’ve known each other.

“I fucking hate him, Clyde.” He says, in between sobs, taking yet another swing from the bottle of Vodka in his hand. “I wish he… I wish he…”

Craig can’t bring himself to finish the sentence. What’s the point, anyways? They both know he’s lying. Everyone does. How the fuck would he hate Tweek Tweak? 

Loving him had become such a big part of him he felt as if, by letting go of his beloved blonde bundle of nerves, he’d be letting go of himself too. Tweek had destroyed him, body and soul, but it's only in his memory that Craig can find any solace.

“Why?”

Clyde can’t really answer. It’s taking enough of his willpower to stay awake and halfway-sober, let alone play the therapist. But he truly cares about his friend, so he takes a deep breath and, for the first time in his life, thinks thoroughly before he speaks.

“Maybe you should talk to Tweek, Craig.” He gently assures his friend. “You know, after you apologize to him.”

Craig stares at his own hands before breaking down crying again, sobbing loudly, almost crying. Clyde’s just glad he doesn’t have neighbors.

“I didn’t- I didn’t want to- I didn’t mean to-”

“Shh… It’s alright, dude.” Clyde, once again, tries to reassure his friend, patting his back. “Let it all out.”.

It’s not like Craig needs any encouragement to keep on crying, but the brief vulnerable look he shares with Clyde lets the brunette know his presence is still appreciated. Craig throws himself into the table, spilling the bottle of vodka on the floor. It bounces lightly against the plush carpet, probably a few inches shy of breaking. Clyde resists the temptation to pick it up, and focuses on his friend instead.

“I can’t, Clyde, I fucked it up.” He cries, knuckles going white as he holds into his own arm. “I wasn’t enough now- hic- why the fuck would I be good now? I… I fucking hate that asshole!”

“No you don’t.” Clyde argues, against his best judgment. He’s starting to feel tired of his friend’s denial. “Craig, I don’t know what happened back then, but you know Tweek isn’t some… Stuck up asshole.”

“He isn’t…” Craig acknowledges, still sobbing, staring down like some scolded kid. “But… He just… He’s so amazing, Clyde. How could he- How could anyone- see anything in some fucking dipshit bore like me?”

“Craig…”

“He’s probably hitting it off with fucking Kenny right now…” The black haired man cries, breathing rapidly, shaking, almost like a kid. Clyde does his best to reassure him with a half hug, but it doesn’t feel right. It’s like he’s trying to scoop out the sea with a spoon. “I-I bet he thinks I’m just… Some dick who couldn’t get over him.”

“Well, you did punch him square in the face.” Clyde blurts out, but quickly tries to correct himself. God, he really shouldn’t have drunk too much. “I’m sure you can still talk this through with him, dude.”

Craig wipes his tears in the sleeve of his shirt, his puffy red eyes closing for a brief instant. God, he’s going to hate himself in the morning. Not that it’s anything new, though.

“Yeah I punched him, I get it!” He shouts. “I didn’t… I didn’t know… I just…”

Craig’s angry face only holds up for a couple minutes before he completely becomes undone in Clyde’s arms, sobbing louder than he remembers doing in his entire life, completely drenching his friend’s cozy hoodie.  His entire body shakes, no matter how hard he tries to hold onto Clyde.

“I love him so much, dude.” He cries out. “I can’t… I can’t fucking do this. I can’t face him. My heart won’t take it.”

“I know, Craig.” Clyde sighs, petting his hair. “But you can’t keep doing this. You’re hurting him. And you’re hurting yourself. You two need to talk this out.”

Craig tries to talk, but he can’t stop crying, the sobs won’t let anything other than hiccups and mumbles leave his lips. Clyde keeps patting his head, ignoring his own dizziness. He and Craig have never been too touchy, so it feels a little bit awkward, but Clyde decides to leave all teasing for tomorrow.

The black haired man swallows hard, trying to gain back some composure. “He-He probably thinks I’mm a fucking monster. I hit him, for god’s sake!”

“Well, he got you pretty good, too.” Clyde says, his voice warm and reassuring. “I’m just saying… If there’s one person who would forgive you, even after everything you’ve done, it’s Tweek.”

Oh. There it is.

A tiny speck of hope blooms in Craig’s deep navy eyes, reddish as they are.

“Y-You think so?”

“I know so.” Clyde reassures him with an encouraging smile. “He might be hurt, but Tweek is a nice kid. And he has always cared about you.”

Either he’s finally completely dehydrated or he’s calming down, but Craig’s crying seems to slow down a bit. Clyde offers him a tissue, hoping to keep his hoodie as clean as possible. His puffy-eyed friend mumbles a small “thank you” before blowing his nose in it, his hiccups slowly disappearing.

“And… What if he doesn’t? What if he’s mad?”

“Then I’ll be right here for you, man.” The brunette states it as if it was the most obvious fact in the world, as if caring for Craig was as easy as breathing. “And you’ll at least get some closure.”

“T-Thanks, dude.” Craig speaks amongst sobs, but the soft smile on his lips is too obvious to ignore. “That’s pretty gay, though.”

Clyde playfully smacks Craig in the arm, standing up as gracefully as he can after drinking all he has.  “You’re pretty gay. And stinky. You should get a shower.”

“Like you’re doing so much better, Mr.Febreze.”

He doesn’t know where his friend managed to regain enough strength to joke around, but he’s so proud he doesn’t even feel like being offended.

“Fair enough.” He shrugs, helping Craig stand up, almost tripping over the bottle on the floor. “Tough words from someone who was crying like a baby two seconds ago, though.”

Craig rolls his eyes, putting his weight on Clyde’s shoulder, still sobbing a bit. “Dick.”

Clyde chuckles, slowly walking towards the bathroom. Craig definitely seems a bit better, but he’s definitely drunk enough that dropping him would mean letting him fall asleep on the floor.

“Love you too, dude.” He jokes, while he gets Craig inside the empty bathtub. They’ve done it before, but it’s always too messy. While Clyde tries his best to keep Craig from squirming around, he removes his shirt, sticky with whatever drink Tweek partially spilled on him. “We really can’t keep doing this, though. Bebe’s totally going to kill me tomorrow for leaving her alone at Tolkien’s.”

Clyde leaves Craig’s underpants on, but does away with his jeans, making use of all strength his numb arms still have. He’s seen Craig do the same for him a hundred times, but still doesn’t understand how the black haired man always does it so fast. It takes him at least ten minutes to get Craig ready for a quick shower.

He’s testing the water, trying not to give his best friend hypothermia, when Clyde finds sharp blue eyes staring into his soul. “Uhm, dude…”

“Do you think it’s possible to love someone too much?”

Clyde swallows. He’s not used to his friend being the sentimental type, and he definitely doesn’t have  a lot of confidence in this topic. He had had a lot of luck, finding Bebe so early in his life, and establishing a sort-of-healthy relationship with her. But Clyde didn’t have one single romantic bone in his system, and Craig knew it. So why ask?

Sighing, and noting that the water is already lukewarm, Clyde takes the shower head to spray Craig with water unceremoniously, as if he was spraying a nasty cat with water.

“Oh, shut up, you sap.” He answers, not minding the water splashes that invade his bathroom. His eyes dart to the door, though, as he hears some knocking on the door. Clyde looks at his watch. Who the hell is knocking on his dock at five a.m? “I’ll  be right back, dude. Don’t move.”

Clyde disappears through the door, and a terrible feeling of emptiness fills Craig’s uneasy heart. Without his friend, the water feels cold, he feels pathetic. Half-naked on a bathtub that doesn’t even have enough room for his legs. The water turns a weird shade of orange-y red when in contact with his wounds, and Craig has to stop himself from crying.

Tweek’s hands used to be shaky and hesitant when they linked with his own. But tonight, there was no hesitation, not a speck of doubt. Did that mean Tweek’s hatred was more sure than his love was?

Craig feels like he’s about to throw up. He struggles to get out of the tub, trying to reach the bathroom, his shaky hands reaching out for anything to hold onto.

It happens quickly. Something fluffy in his hand. He tries to put his weight on it, but it just falls alongside his entire body, and he barely has enough time to cover his face with his arms before hitting the cold and harsh bathroom floor.

Craig’s not sure if the blood is new or if it’s some reopened injury from tonight’s bawl. The “snap” that he heard was pretty concerning, though, but all he feels is… a dull, weird ache that creeps through his arm. It goes on a painful crescendo as the adrenaline from the fall fades, though, and soon Craig finds himself screaming for Clyde’s help, tears pooling on his eyes once again.

Everything became a bit blurry afterwards. There were voices he didn’t know. A lot of hands on his body. Cold, cold air against his wet and bare skin. The worst pain he’s felt in years making his heart race like a rat on drugs. There’s a small”pinch” feeling, though, that stops him from squirming and shoves the pain in a cloud of warm, fuzzy fog.

The very last thing he remembers is lying down somewhere, hearing Clyde talk to someone in a very nervous manner, and wanting to calm his friend down. 

“I bet I look pretty in bisexual lighting.”

“That’s the fucking police, dipshit!” He heard, as the strange hands moved whatever he was laid on and took him far from Clyde.

Chapter Text

Kenny sits in the Staff-only room, a cigarette in his lips that clearly doesn’t give a flying fuck about the “DO NOT SMOKE INDOORS” poster that was probably put there because of him to begin with.

He’s fucking exhausted, but at least the toughest part of the morning is over, and he has pretty long break now. Usually, he’d use it to take a quick nap to make up for the lost hours of sleep he tends to accumulate through the week, but today he feels uneasy.

His sleeping-around reputation didn’t spawn randomly out of thin air. Kenny prided himself in being extremely out-going despite his quiet, weird personality. He loved parties, and would hang out with just about anyone so long as he was promised a good time.

But last night? Last night was different.

Obviously, the “no sex” part was different. Sure, sometimes some of his partners would end up backing away, but then they’d simply leave his house. To have someone in his arms, all through the night, silently clinging to his oversized shirt as they sobbed, it was a truly new feeling. 

He shouldn’t have offered it to begin with. He had thought it wouldn’t be any different than sleeping with his little sister, cuddling her nightmares away, telling her fairytales that he improvised. 

But it was. Oh, it definitely was. Kenny had barely even gotten any sleep, being overly conscious all through the night of the shorter, decaffeinated blond that snuggled against him. 

Tweek is an extraordinarily strong young man, even though he himself doesn’t seem to realize it. Not only is he out there fighting addiction, the same thing that had ruined Kenny’s entire family, but he doesn’t hesitate to stand up for himself and face his fears.

It makes Kenny feel so… Miserable.

Honestly, he hadn’t been too fond of Tweek growing up. He was a weird, twitchy kid who’d constantly scream about everything being “too much”. Kenny never understood it. If it’s too much, why doesn’t he just quit? His perseverance came off as nothing but an annoying treat.

When he heard the rumors, though, guilt started eating him alive.

He remembered all those times that Tweek would show up at his parents house asking for the backyard’s keys, the times he’d pick up strange parcels. Of course Kenny knew something shady was going on, but he didn’t expect it to be that bad. I mean, selling laced coffee is one thing, but drugging your own kid? Not even Kenny’s parents would go that far. Not when shit’s this expensive.

It was guilt that made him intervene when Tweek showed up in the theater club for the first time. Of course, the shorter blond’s cute face was a nice extra. Soon enough, Kenny found himself digging those grateful glaces that Tweek would shoot his way, pale green eyes focused on him and him alone.

It’s a weird feeling. Attachment, but not quite. More like… A savior complex, of sorts. Maybe some of Mysterion’s habits never washed out.

It sucked, though, because now he felt even worse. Honestly, he joined the theater club because he liked dressing up and having fun. Tweek, however, takes it so seriously he can’t help but feel like an asshole when he stumbles with his lines.

Kenny breathes out, reaching to the very bottom of his lungs. 

“Good morning. Or should I say… Good mourning?” Kenny chuckles, bitterly, taping the cigarette to shake off the ashes. His eyes focus on an imaginary audience as he speaks. “I’m sorry. That was terrible. I’m… Not in a great mood.”

The young man takes another drag of his cigarette, wandering about the room, furrowing his brows as he tries to remember his next lines.

“Died again.” He continues. It’s ironic, really, that Wendy would base the script off his “jokes”, not knowing the reality behind them. “Poison apple, this time. I guess the author was feeling a bit… Classical, huh?”

“Yes, such is the nature of my curse.” Kenny recites, the words leaving a bitter aftertaste in his mouth. “It’s kind of like that one movie… Groundhog Day? Just add some extra blood and guts and you’re set.”

Kenny sighs. They should’ve had Jimmy check the script. Wendy’s not really great at humor, is she?

“I know I've been cold, but... I can’t make the prince go through this, too.” He continues acting, even though the words are all too familiar to him. Even though it’s out of character, he can’t help but smile pitifully. “He’s all I ever wanted. And that’s precisely why I must never have him.”

Even though he’s pretty sure at this part of the script he’s meant to kneel, Kenny feels too lazy to do so, deciding that looking up to the sky is definitely good enough.

“Why? Why must I suffer so much? What’s the point of living like this? Gods, if you care about me, give me a signal!”

Kenny stands there, in silence, for one, two and three seconds. He then makes a little “pop” sound, smacking his lips, before taking a drag of his cigarette. An anvil is supposed to fall on top of the princess, crushing her to death. Cartoonish, yes, but definitely a painful way to die. Not the most, though. At least the adrenaline would be enough to dull out most of it, and it was fairly quick…

“You’re good.” An unexpected, slightly scratchy voice surprises Kenny enough to accidentally let go of his cigarette. “Shouldn’t you use your break to, well, I don’t know, take a break?”

Kenny breathes deeply, stepping on the lighted cigarette, not wanting to burn down the Denny’s. He turns around to face a warmly smiling Tweek, who stands in the doorway.

“I didn’t take you for the peeking type.” He teases. “Are you stalking me?”

“You left your wallet at home.” Tweek answers, not missing a beat, as he hands Kenny his wallet. “Butters let me in, I hope you don’t mind.”

Kenny smiles, putting his wallet into the pocket of his jeans, trying to play it cool. He might be a little bit dramatic when he’s on his own, but he’d much rather not have Tweek Tweakers out of all people possible know that. “You’re a lifesaver, man”

“I guess I owed you” Tweek recons, shrugging.

“How are you doing? Your wrist is not looking too good.” He comments, pointing at the other’s swollen red wrist. “I told you you should go to the doctor.”

“I-It’s fine, it’s just a sprain” Tweek replies, his smile not faltering a second. “I don’t really like going to the doctor’s anymore than strictly necessary.”

Kenny nods, a bit nervous. He’s not, by nature, a very chatty person. He’s spent his entire childhood and teen years fading in the background, trying to remain quiet and only speaking when he truly thought he had something meaningful to say (meaningful, of course, by his own non-traditional definition). When it comes to Tweek, though, he often finds himself desperately wrecking his head for another conversational topic, something that might keep them talking, even if it’s just for a couple more minutes.

“Thank you.” tweek’s voice surprises him. When Kenny looks at him, he realizes how pretty he looks, red cheeks, eyes that advert his gaze, nervous. “And, well… Sorry.”

“You have nothing to feel sorry for, Tweek.” He reassures him, gently pating his hair while staring into his face. Tweek’s alright with physical contact, right? I mean, he did hug him through the night, so it should be alright. “You can trust me, if you need a shoulder to cry on, or a place to crash in.”

Tweek sighs.

“Thanks, Kenny.” He says, but something about his tone doesn’t feel right. Kenny feels a nervous sweat creeping down his neck. Something’s wrong. “I just… Want to make sure we’re on the same page.”

Kenny swallows hard. Why does it feel like he’s giving him the “don’t get your hopes up” kind of talk? And why does it make his stomach feel so uncomfortable?

“Y-Yeah man.” Kenny tries to sound as unbothered as he can manage. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to ask for your hand in marriage anytime soon, Tweekers.”

Tweek laughs, his cheeks still bright red. He feels silly now, seeing how Kenny seems even taken aback by the notion of any misunderstanding happening.

“I know… I know I was very clingy yesterday, and I don’t want to overstep any b-boundaries. I’m just… A bit touchy” He explained. There was a very obvious untold explanation that anyone who’d been around Tweek and Craig while they were dating would know, though. They were always holding hands, hugging, and walking side by side. After three years of continuous physical touch, no clue Tweek was left a clingy, lonely mess. “It gets worse when I’m drunk.”

“It’s fine, dude. I don’t mind it, I like it too.”

Kenny smiles, and Tweek immediately feels at ease.

Honestly, he can’t deny that Kenny has a pretty face. And he’s caught himself staring more times than he’d like to admit, sure. But it felt so… Weird. They had barely been on good terms for a week, and yet Tweek was already crashing at his house like they were childhood friends or something.

It felt wrong, almost as if he was exploiting Kenny’s kindness and guilt.

“Sorry.” He apologizes, clearly a weight having been lifted off his shoulders. “How’re you doing?”

Kenny sits on one side of a pretty shitty sofa that takes up almost half of the tiny break room. He taps on the free space next to him, becoming a very obedient Tweek to sit right by his side.

“The rush hour is almost over, so I guess I can’t complain.” He jokes, trying to avoid answering truthfully. If Tweek knew just how tired he’s feeling, he’d probably carry the guilt to his deathbed. 

Tweek manages a weak, bittersweet smile. It doesn’t matter if Kenny tries to hide his exhaustion, his deep eyebags are an obvious giveaway. It’s no surprise, of course. Tweek knows all too well the way the service industry dries you to the bone. It was the very same thing that royally fucked up his life, afterall.

Not really wanting to dwell on bitter memories, Tweek lazily looks around the humble break room. As expected, it was a pretty shitty place: Grey walls, barely anything that would prove actual humans worked there. The only “decoration” it showcasted was a picture of Butters and another blonde boy with a head full of curls and a nervous smile, and what Tweek could only describe as a particularly busty ashtray.

“Y-you know, you should make this place a bit cozier. Maybe bring a plant or something. It feels depressing.” Tweek suggests, trying to make conversation, trying his best not to stutter. Hungover makes everything harder.

Kenny chuckles. “I’m not exactly a plant guy, Tweek. They have the very bad habit of dying under my care.”

Tweek goes blank for a while, thinking about the plants that litter his dorm. He started taking care of them years ago, when his therapist told him taking care of another living being could have a positive effect on him, and after his aunt repeatedly refused to allow a dog into their house. It was none other than Craig himself who had the brilliant idea. They even named their cactus together. “Maybe you could get some low-maintenance one. I don’t think you can fuck up taking care of a cactus, if you’re given the proper instructions.”

Kenny shrugs. “It’s fine, dude. I don’t really spend too much time anyways.”

Tweek points at the overfilled ashtray, a smirk upon his lips. “C’mon, Kenny, I’m not an idiot.”

Kenny laughs, ignoring the burning sensation on his cheeks. “Busted.”

“That’s what I thought.” Tweek says in a playful tone. “I could bring you one of mine, if you want.”

 The dirty blond seems genuinely surprised, rapidly blinking his pearly blue eyes. He’s not used to having people help him out, other than maybe Butters from time to time, and even Butters didn’t give much thought to the break room. “You’d do that?”

“Of course!” Tweek exclaims, eager to do something, anything, nice for his friend. “I have way too many anyway.”

Kenny smiles, feeling a warmth in his chest. Tweek’s sweetness feels so genuine, so sincere. As if there was nothing more natural for him than to worry about Kenny, to care for him. 

He can’t help but feel undeserving of his tenderness. Kenny’s usually the one going out of his way to help others, the one who spent countless nights patrolling the city for other’s well being. The self-sacrificial hero who was destined to greatness, but never happiness. Why would Tweek show him such kindness?

“I guess I could give it a chance, if you insist..”

Tweek nods, feeling a sense of satisfaction at being able to make Kenny’s day just a little bit brighter, more bearable. He still felt greatly in debt, but he guessed he’d have to pay it off little by little. 

“I can bring you this orange kalanchoe I got not too long ago…” He says, and Kenny tries his best not to look too confused about whatever the hell a kalanchoe is. “When are you free?”

Kenny bitterly smiled. “Honestly? I only get some nights free. But I get extra long breaks when I work overtime, and I don’t have any exams anytime soon, so… Maybe we can arrange something next week, I guess.”

The concern in Tweek’s face is so obvious it takes all of Kenny’s restraint not to laugh.

"Dude, I think you may be overworking yourself."

Kenny shrugs. "Well, what am I supposed to do? Gotta pay the bills somehow. And then I have to study, and then I have to take care of Karen, and then I have to do the housekeeping…"

"Right, right…" Tweek agrees rushedly, knowing all too well how stressed Kenny must feel. . "But you can't work yourself to the bone, dude, it’s not productive! You need to take breaks, take care of yourself.”

“I have to take care of my sister.”

“And what about you? You matter too, you know?" Tweek quickly replies. “I’m sure Karen’s as concerned about you as you are about her, and so are your friends. Jesus, even I am concerned about you, dude!”

Kenny's heart flutters at the words, but he tries his best to ignore it. "I…"

Tweek sighs, blushing again, and Kenny wishes he could take a picture to hang on his bedroom wall and pray. Maybe not just pray. Actually, praying might just be what he should do after this meeting.

“I’m sorry.” Tweek apologizes. “I… Didn’t mean to scream at you.”

“It’s fine, Tweakers. I’m glad you care. I’m just… Not used to it.”

“To what? People showing you basic human decency?”

“Mattering, I guess” Kenny tries to laugh it off, clearly uncomfortable. “Sorry. I guess last night’s catching up to me, I can’t think straight.”

They sit in silence for a few moments, the tension palpable in the air. Tweek is even more flustered than before, and it’s far too obvious. Kenny just feels giddy like a teenager with a crush, and he hates himself for it. He wants to say something, anything to break the uncomfortable ice, but no words leave his mouth. He feels like he's already said too much, like he's already put himself out there too much. He doesn't want to scare Tweek off, doesn't want to ruin whatever it is that they have. Whatever they could have.

It almost feels like he’s sitting next to a ticking bomb. He knows it's going to hurt like hell, but part of him can’t help but want to look at the fiery beauty of the explosion.

He doesn’t dare even look again in Tweek’s jade eyes, he’d stop breathing if he could.

But then Tweek leans into him, his head resting on Kenny's shoulder, and all thoughts of holding back disappear. Kenny tentatively puts his arm around Tweek, feeling the other boy relax into him. So much for being on the same page.

They sit like that for a while, not saying anything, just enjoying the comfort of each other's presence. It's a strange feeling for Kenny, who's used to fleeting connections and one-night stands. But he can't deny that he likes it, that he wants more of it.

Eventually, Tweek sits up, looking at Kenny with a soft smile. "Thank you. For everything."

"Of course, Tweek. Anytime." Kenny replies, his own smile matching Tweek's.

They both stand up, and Tweek pats his own pants, shaking off some ash. Kenny wonders how it got there. "I should probably get going, I've got a project due in a week. But I'll see you later, right?"

Kenny nods more eagerly than he would’ve liked. "Sure."

As Tweek leaves, Kenny can't help but feel an odd sense of longing. He wants to see more of Tweek, wants to get to know him better, wants to explore this strange new feeling that's taken hold of him. And now, he’s left alone with himself, killing time in this dreadful prison-like room.

Something stops Tweeks right in front of the door, though. Kenny realizes he’s looking at his phone screen, frozen in place, pale eyes wide in surprise. 

“Tweek?” Seeing as how there’s no response, he sneaks a peek from above the shorter guy’s shoulder.

Unknown number: Hi, Tweek, it’s Clyde :) 

Unknown number: Uk, from highschool

Unknown number: Bebe gave me ur number I hope u dont mind

Unknown number: Ik ur mad @ Craig, bt

Unknown number: Hes kind of hospitalzed rn

Unknown number: maybe visit?

Unknown number: he wants 2 talk 2 u.

Tweek’s slightly  shaking, Kenny notes. He’s having a full blown panic attack.

“I-I didn’t- I didn’t…”

“You got him good,” Kenny intervenes “but not that good, don’t flatter yourself. Whatever’s sent Craig to the hospital,  it wasn’t your fight.”

He sounds a lot more secure than what he really is, but Kenny does his best to play it cool once again. Yes, Tweek had really gone crazy on his ex, but Kenny vaguely remembers seeing Craig standing up, cursing to get on Tweek’s nerves once again. Either he had the pain tolerance of a God, or Craig Tucker was a bigger problem maker than he thought possible.

“Gah! Jesus! I need- I  need to go.” Tweek scrambles around, like he forgot he just had to cross the doorway. Once he figures that out, he immediately starts walking away at full speed. Kenny closely follows him with a concerned look in his face. “I-I need. Where? Where does the b-b-bus..?”

Kenny watches as Tweek’s trembling hands try to tap on the bus schedule app. He sighs, as he takes the phone away from him before he lets it fall against the floor.

“I’ll drive you there.” He states, his voice reassuringly firm. Tweek calmed down a bit. Kenny wasn’t trying to diminish his anxiety, to tell him it’d get better. He was actively helping, just like Craig used to do. Just thinking of his name hurts. “Butters! Mind covering my ass for an hour or so? You still owe me for last thursday!”

Butters, behind the counter, seems conflicted. However, he still sighs, forcing himself to smile, giving a thumbs up as Kenny and Tweek rush their way out of the Denny’s and into Kenny’s very much weed-smelling, run down truck.

This time, the door doesn’t pose any obstacle to Tweek, and Kenny has to peel his mind off the idea of just how strong the pale man could be when he needs to. 

Kenny absolutely floors it, but the old truck can only do so much. In the corner of his eye, he sees Tweek constantly checking his phone, as if he was waiting for another message telling him it was all a sick play. He’s grinding his teeth, his eyes so wide open they might just pop out of his head.

“Tweek, damnit, you need to chill.” he says, a bit more roughly than he should. “Craig probably got too drunk and took a bad fall or something.”

Tweek grabbed his blond hair, pulling at it like he hadn’t in years. “B-But what if he isn’t? W-What if he got into a t-traffic accident? -Gah!- W-What if he got some… Internal inju-injury or some shit! Jesus!”

Kenny rolls his eyes.

“Then the entirety of South Park would already know! It’s a small town, you know? A big accident wouldn’t be ignored like this.”

“What if everyone knows? What if they didn’t t-tell me, because I hurt him? God! What if I’ve killed him?!

Kenny sighs. “I watched that fight, Tweek. It was admirable… For how wasted you two were. You got some nasty bruises, some scratches here and there, sure. But you didn’t snap his back or something, alright? He’s fine. I promise.”

The strawberry blond’s words seem to calm Tweek down slightly, but it’s obvious that he’s still nervous, his ticks more present than they’ve been in years. He even slightly but quickly rocks back and forth, pressing his lips on a fine line.

Kenny turns on the radio, and makes sure some soothing music comes out of the old fashioned artifact. Tweek looks at him like he just shot his grandfather.

“Kenny, ugh! Now it’s not a good time-”

“Just breathe slowly, alright? We’re only five minutes away.” Kenny’s voice is steady, sweet and comforting, in contrast with how roughly he’s driving. Tweek obviously is ignoring his advice, still rocking back and forth.“Hey. Hey, dude. Listen, c’mon. Just… Breathe in…”

Kenny himself takes a deep breath. Tweek kind of wants to rip his head off -do you know how many people will see you having a panic attack and pull that “breath” bullshit on you, like it’s going to fix the situation at hand?- but he still tries to match the taller boy’s breathing. 

“There we go.” Kenny mumbles, eyes firm on the road. He shoots Tweek a reassuring smile. “Everything’s going to be ok, Tweekers. And I’ll be right here, by your side, to see you through this, alright?”

Tweek nods, still struggling to breathe. He swallows some saliva, he tries to steady himself, but it’s to no avail. He can’t keep his mind from wandering to the darkest possibilities. 

“Name three blue things you can see.”

Tweek looks at Kenny with a clearly confused look. Weirdly enough, the confusion kind of helps.

“Hey, go easy on me. I’m ad-libbing here.” Kenny jokes, taking a left turn far too suddenly. “You don’t have to-”

“The sky.” Tweek interrupts, pretending like he hadn't heard him, scrutinizing his surroundings as Kenny drives. “Uhm… The car right next to us.”

He’s clearly struggling to find more things, and Kenny can’t help but let go of a deep breath. When he’s distracted, Tweek’s breathing eases a little. He wasn’t expecting to find his bright green eyes staring so deep into his own, though.

“Your... Your eyes.”

Kenny swallows hard, and forces himself to smile.

“Ok, what about, uhm… Three mildly annoying things?”

“The smell of your truck.” The response is so fast it makes Kenny laugh under his breath. “The seat’s kind of uncomfortable. And…  Agh! Your music taste- Is this fucking Beyonce?”

Kenny’s face twists into one of exaggerated offense, and it makes Tweek smile a bit through the panic. “Rude.”

Tweek seems about to retaliate, but his gaze softens when he’s met with Kenny’s. “T-Thanks, man.”

Kenny takes what Tweek hopes is the last turn, already reaching Hell’s pass hospital.  He notices the shortest man’s nervousness is resurfacing, and so he decides to make one less effort to help him stay calm as he rushedly maneuvers the truck into the limited parking space.

"Hey, you know what we should do when we get there? We should get cake or something. I know this great little café that just opened up a few blocks from the hospital. We can sit and talk for a bit, take our minds off things."

Tweek looks at him skeptically, so offended he seems to forget about his panic.. "C-Cake? You want to get cake now? When Craig might be f-fucking dying or something?"

Kenny shakes his head nervously, turning off the engine. Tweek basically throws himself onto the road, so he rushes to his side.. "No, no. Not instead of going to see Craig. I meant, as in… After we see him. Just to destress a bit, you know? You're all wound up, man. It'll be good to take a breather."

Tweek doesn't look convinced, but he doesn't argue either, seemingly content with rolling his eyes as he basically runs towards the hospital’s entrance. Kenny’s glad he has long legs, so he can keep with him easily.

The lady behind the front desk smiles at them both. Tweek is the first who tries to talk, but he’s obviously not making any sense, so Kenny gently pushes him to the side.

“Hello.” He speaks in a calm manner. “We’re looking for a friend, Craig Tucker?”

The nice woman smiles elegantly, as she looks for something in her computer. She seems to find whatever he’s looking for in her computer soon enough, because she looks up again.

“Oh, right, they said he’d be receiving a friend today.” She points towards the empty, cold hallway to her right. “He’s in room 104, near the elevator.”

Tweek barely has the time to mumble a little “thank you” before quickly rushing in the direction she pointed at, making Kenny once again rush right behind him.

It  barely takes them a couple seconds to get there, to the half-opened door to Craig’s room. And Tweek can basically feel his heart shoot out of his chest.

Craig was a very cute kid growing up.

He had these very weird, deep blue eyes that Tweek didn’t even know were a biological possibility until he met him. Truthfully, that might be the real reason the Asian girls liked their pairing so much.

Craig was a cute dude with a somewhat charming trouble maker persona that would appeal to some girls. Tweek… Well. He probably just happened to be in the right place at the right time.

Their entire relationship was built on a coincidence, on a lie. It started as a performance, and Tweek was just stupid enough to buy into it.

Now he was suffering all the consequences of his acts.

Craig laid in the hospital bed with his brows furrowed, groaning and trying to cover his eyes with his arm to keep the sunlight away. Tweek stared at him at a safe distance, half hidden behind the door, taking the one chance he finally has to properly take a look at his ex.

He's as pretty as ever. Jet black hair, sharp eyes, a small nose. He’s always had this weird apathetic air about him, which only made it all the more heart melting when he’d display genuine kindness or interest. 

And the best part of all… Craig looked ok.

I mean, sure, a lot more bruised up than Tweek himself was. He had a cast on his arm, which was probably pretty painful. But he didn’t look like someone with hours left to live, like Tweek had imagined.

Kenny’s hand surprises Tweek enough that he has to cover his own mouth to shut down his vocal tics. He silently thanks the taller man with a smile.

“I didn’t bring you here so you could stare, Tweek.” He whispers into Tweek’s ear, and the shorter blond can smell the nicotine on the other’s warm breath. “Go talk to him, I’ll be right here.”

Tweek breathes in deeply, and prepares himself to fully open the door. Right as he pushes the white wooden structure, he hears Kenny say one last thing.

“Tweek…” There’s a certain hesitation in his voice. “He’s hurt you before. Don’t let him do it twice.”

Chapter Text

Migraine was killing Craig in ways it never had before. Honestly, it made the dulled pain in his arm feel like a caress. He sighed, looking at the white wall in front of him. Where on Earth was Clyde? He said he was only going away for a couple minutes to pick up something from the cafeteria, but it must’ve been at least half an hour.

When the door opened, he found himself looking hopefully in its direction. Sure, Clyde was annoying, but something about his presence was reassuring.

All his hopes vanished, of course, when Tweek Tweak was the one standing in the doorway. Pale. Shaky. With an unreadable expression.

Craig scrunched up his nose. He smelled like weed and shitty, cheap air freshener. Did Tweek smoke? Is that why he’s no longer as twitchy? Did he abandon recovery?

He sighs, trying his best to stop his throbbing head from asking anymore questions. He shouldn’t care about Tweek Tweak, not anymore. Who cares if the clothes he’s wearing are obviously someone else’s?

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Craig spits out in a broken voice. All the crying last night had pretty much ruined his throat

Tweek twitched a bit, keeping his distance, as if Craig was some wild animal about to strike and not his ex boyfriend. The black haired man feels a pang of guilt on his heart, but managed to remain as expressionless as ever.  “Clyde texted me.” Tweek rushedly explains. “H-He said you wanted to…  T-talk.”

Craigh throws his head back, pressing his lips together. God, he was going to fucking murder Clyde.

“Of course he would say that…” He mutters to himself, even though the blond can obviously still hear him. Craig eyes Tweek with sharp eyes, and he realizes his ex boyfriend is nothing short for terrified.

He looks away. His entire body has started to hurt twice as hard, almost as if his brain was trying to blame his aching body for the pain in his heart.

Yes, he told Clyde he would talk with Tweak. But he was drunk, he was stupid, he was vulnerable… It was a dumb mistake. 

But here he is now. The love of his life is standing right in front of him, looking at him like he was some monster, and Craig can’t really argue against that, honestly. Not after last night. 

Some memories were blurry, but he still recalls just how beautiful Tweek’s face looked, bathed by the colorful lights at the party, as he punched him harder than Craig ever has been. He perfectly recalls the softness of the skin in Tweek’s neck as he held it forcibly in between his own hands.

“I can’t do this right now.” He manages to say, trying to erase all the memories, trying to keep his emotions on check. “Get out.”

Tweek is obviously distraught, but he doesn’t move an inch. 

He feels a bit scared, but he’s not really sure of what. It’s not like Craig can leave the bed he’s hooked up to. Even if he did, Tweek’s pretty sure he could take him.

Still… Facing the man he once loved more than anything in a hospital bed made him sick to his stomach. He had done this. He doesn’t exactly recall when, but at some point during the fight, he had broken Craig’s arm. He had hurt him. And now Craig’s at the hospital.

Tweek sighs, starting to walk towards Craig, who feels his palms grow sweaty. He came to South Park to face his fears. To face all his past mistakes, not to commit new ones. Tweek knows he can’t back out now.

The blond man sits by Craig’s bed, who doesn’t even move, stoic like a stone statue. 

“N-No, Craig.” He says, trying to sound sure of himself. Craig has to stop himself from reassuringly taking his hand. “We can’t- We can’t keep doing this, Jesus! We need… We need to talk. I-I need to get my life together. We both do.”

Craig balled up his one available fist, frustrated. He knows he should apologize. Honestly, he’s not even such a proud person, so why doesn’t he?

Fear.

His heart beats so hard on his chest he feels like he’s about to pass out. He hopes Tweek doesn’t realize the spikes in the cardiac diagram. All these years, he’s been terrified. Unable to face the truth, the reality, that Tweek Tweaks wasn’t coming back, and that him, Craig Tucker, the stone-faced, most apathetic kid of South Park was fucking destroyed by it.

He couldn’t handle it. The heartbreak. The loneliness. The Tweek-shaped hole in his heart. It terrified him, knowing that he was so vulnerable. So helpless.

So he breathed deep and, once again, shields all his fear beneath a thick coat of anger.

“Do you want an apology? Is that it?” Craig blurts out, and he wants to throw himself out of the window. “Listen-”

“A-Actually” tweek nervously interrupts. “I wanted to apologize. F-For… Well…”

Craig realizes the way the blond man is staring at his cast, guilt clear in his big green eyes. “You didn’t do this, Tweek, don’t flatter yourself.” He catches himself explaining, still hating the idea of making his stupid ex-boyfriend feel this anxious. Weirdly enough, Craig found out that Tweek suffering physical pain was much easier to deal with than emotional one. 

It’s probably because, even back then, at the theater, where he acted out of pure instinct and little more, Craig always knew he didn’t stand a chance. Sure, when they fought as kids, it always ended in a draw. But ever since that first fight, Tweek had grown quite fond of boxing, while Craig’s interests were mostly focused on stargazing and other nerdy stuff his classmates would tease him for.

Maybe, from the very start, all Craig wanted was to get fucked up. To get Tweek to hurt him even more, to get Tweek to hate his guts, just so he could stop feeling this awful thing in his heart he once called “love”.

Tweek sighs.

“I-I didn’t want things to end up- to end up like this.” He struggles to say, and Craig realizes how Tweek’s knuckles have gone white, grabbing the hospital sheets as a lifeline. “I… I need closure, Craig.”

“You have some nerve saying that, after what you did” Craig immediately shot back, his voice rising in spite of the pain. “Do you have any idea how I felt when you stopped replying?”

Tweek looks away, clearly unable to answer. “I thought something terrible had happened to you, Tweek!” his ex continues, his voice growing unsteady, his eyes watering up. “I didn’t know what to do. I asked everyone, anyone, hoping they’d know what happened.” Craig sighs, eyes closing for a second as the painful memories invade his already aching head. “And you know what they’d say? They said, ‘Craig, your little homosexual boyfriend is having some me-time with his aunt in California. He’ll be back’. Like I was some… Dumb child asking silly questions.”

Tweek tightens his grip on the sheets. “I-I’m sorry… I shouldn’t-”

“Save your apologies for someone who gives a shit, Tweek, “sorry” won’t cut it this time. You can’t just… Waltz back into my life. You can’t expect me to act as if nothing happened. ” Craig quickly cuts him up, clearly on a roll. “I reached out to our friends, to your friends, to your family… It was almost as if you had… Vanished into thin air. Without a single word, a single clue to let me know how you were doing.” The poisonous, bitter frustration leaks into every single angry word that leaves his lips. His accusing eyes meet Tweek’s with fiery wrath. “Why, Tweek? Was I not worth an explanation?”

Craig’s slightly surprised when he feels warm tears, no matter how hard he tries to keep his composure. All these years of questioning and blaming himself, all these years of hoping that everything had been nothing but a particularly long nightmare, were finally catching up to him. The little drawer he had hidden all his feelings in was finally over-filled, and all the unspoken words were spilled all over the floor. “Tweek, I tried, I tried so much. Where did I go wrong? What did I do to deserve this?”

Tweek hasn’t seen Craig cry in years, but it’s something else that blossoms in his heart.

“W-Well, I don’t know, Craig. Agh! Maybe the part where you started acting like a self-righteous asshole about my recovery.” The black haired man looks at him like he has absolutely no idea what Tweek is talking about. “I was an addict, damnit! Of course I’d struggle! You-You can’t use logic for everything.”

Craig swallows hard. He seems to back down a little. “Listen, Tweek I- I freaked out, ok? I didn’t want to see you hurt yourself any further. I just-  I wanted to help.”

The blond man rolls his eyes. Kenny looks closely from behind the half-opened door. Oh, how the tables turn.

“W-Welll, it didn’t fucking help!” Tweek argues “Jesus! Do you- Do you have any idea how difficult it was? Every fucking day I- I had to fight something so m-much bigger than myself. And when I got to my bedroom, when I checked my phone, wanting to talk to my boyfriend. Y-You know what I was faced with?” Craig looks away, trying to wipe away his tears, unsure of what he should even be feeling anymore. Tweek now speaks in a forcibly nasal voice, mocking Craig’s. “Honey, you shouldn’t do that! Babe, your therapist is right. Tweek, j-just don’t! Calm your tits, honey!”

“Well, maybe you needed to calm your tits, Tweek.” Craig defends himself. “Did you ever think of that?”

“I did! Every. Fucking. Day.” The blond immediately shoots back, his eyes hazy with tears. “Every fucking morning, I’d-I’d wake up reminding myself I needed to do better. Augh! Every fucking day I had the doctors tell me I needed to do better. And every single time w-we talked, you reminded me I had to do better. That I had to be better. Do you know how much pressure that is? T-Too much!”

“Tweek, I… I just wanted you to be healthier. Happier.”

“W-Well, it didn’t fucking work, dipshit!” Tweek keeps going, tears running down his cheeks too, mirroring Craig’s. “I had enough demons to deal with, Craig. I-I didn’t need you to be one of them.”

The black haired boy wants to reply, he wants to excuse himself, he wants to lie down and die, just hoping he would be given another chance. A chance to start from scratch, a chance at a life where he hadn’t ruined the one thing in his life he cared about.

Tweek kept on talking. “A-And now, four years later, instead of, I don’t know- talking about it, like mature adults? You, ugh!, you fucking punch me! W-What the fuck is wrong with you.”

“Oh, so now you want to talk about it! I spent months thinking you were dead, Tweek!” Craig was once again trying desperately to defend himself, and it only made the pain in his chest grow. “You could’ve ended it normally, you could’ve talked to me, but you didn’t. I was so… I was so fucking pissed. So frustrated.”

“I was fourteen and addicted to crystal meth, Craig. What’s your excuse for last night?”

“I..” Craig can’t find the words. He can’t find any excuse. Instead, he looks down, silently sobbing, ashamed.

“You could’ve really killed me for real, you know?” Tweek continued. “Did you know you could’ve sent bone fragments from my nose to my brain? Or given me a concussion. I would have fallen and then-”

“I get it, I get it!” Craig did his best to shut Tweek up. “I- I’m sorry.” He practically sobs, his angry façade dissipating. “I didn’t ever mean to hurt you- I would never…”

“But you did, Craig.” Tweek replied, shaking his head. “You did back then, and you’re doing it now, too.”

“Well, Tweek, you hurt me too!” Craig held onto the last bit of anger he could manage. “You were fourteen, sure, but so was I! I was fourteen and I thought my boyfriend had fucking overdosed or some shit!”

Tweek looks so hurt that Craig immediately regrets the words that have come out of his mouth. 

“No. You don’t get to do this, Craig. Not to me. Not now.” He said through gritted teeth. “You don’t get to make me feel guilty for what happened between us four years ago, not after behaving the way you did. You don’t- You don’t get to keep hurting me like this. You, augh, you fucking hurt me, dude! You fucking beat me up!”

“I…” Craig breathes in deep. “I know I was an asshole. I just… I didn’t… I didn’t understand why it was so hard for you to not do something.”

“Well, that’s kind of how addiction works, Craig!” Tweek wipes his tears away with the sleeve of his shirt. It smells like Kenny, and it sort of helps him calm down. “It’s- It’s not something I could control. I was young. I was… I was fucking stupid. And yes, I made a mistake. But can you blame me?”

“I don’t blame you-”

“But you did! All of the fucking time! Gah- You didn’t… You never even… Realized how badly you were hurting me.” Tweek says, now fully crying, sobbing. Craig stops himself from reaching out, and Kenny gets ready to intervene if things go wrong. “I-I know you were a kid, too. And I-I know you shouldn’t have been put through all of that bullshit. All of my bullshit. But damnit, I didn’t ask for all of this to happen!”

Craig’s eyes soften, and his heart aches. Gathering all the bravery he has, he puts his one healthy hand on Tweek’s shoulder. It’s the first time they’ve touched in a non-violent manner in years, and it sends shivers up Craig’s arms, a giddy sensation that only fuels his guilt further. “...Tweek-”

“But I’ve-I’ve been working on myself, Craig!” He quickly tries to cheer himself up, but it doesn’t keep the tears from flowing. Kenny stares silently, feeling guilty, like he was intruding in a private scene. Which he kind of was, but it's not like he'd stop anytime soon. “I'm clean. I have been for a while. I- I got my shit together. And I… I thought we could…”

Craig immediately pulls his hand away, eyebrows furrowing. “I want to believe you, Tweek, I really do.” He says, but there’s not a single trace of understanding in Craig’s voice, and it only sinks Tweek deeper into despair. 

“Then believe me, you asshole!” Tweek finds himself pleading. 

“I just…” Craig started to talk, but his voice faltered. "I can't trust you, Tweek. Not again."

Kenny sighs, stepping in. There are lines that shouldn't be crossed, words that shouldn't be spoken. He can't watch Craig diminish all of Tweek's effort. It was about time, anyway: If he leaves these dumbasses to fend for themselves, it’ll go on forever, and he can’t stay off-work for that long. 

Yeah, that was it. His concern had nothing to do with Tweek’s cute tear stained face. Kenny was just… A very diligent worker.

Craig’s eyes sharpened the moment he saw the taller blond step into the room, quickly shooting Tweek an incriminating look. “What is he doing here?”

“H-He drove me here!” Tweek quickly explains himself. He doesn’t understand why he feels so guilty. “I don’t have a license.”

“Yeah, sure, whatever.” Craig answers, closing up like a clam once again. Kenny wonders if it was really a good idea to do this. “Of course you’d bring your boy toy over to shove him in my face. Real mature, Tweek.”

“Jesus, dude! H-He’s- Kenny’s n-not-”

“I’m his friend, dipshit.” Kenny says, his stable voice reassuring Tweek. He’s used to situations like this, anyways. Kind of what comes with being the town’s tramp, as Cartman would often joke. “And I’m tired of you two doing… Whatever this is.”

“Yeah, not suspicious at all to be on great terms with the town’s drug dealer, Tweek! I see your recovery is going great.”

Tweek is about to answer, but, once again, Kenny cuts him off. “See? You’re doing it again.” He sighs. “You’ve got your head shoved up so far up your ass, you can’t understand people change. You can’t fathom someone changing, because you can’t fucking face change, Craig.”

"And what the hell would you know about me, Kenny? We haven’t talked to each other since  elementary school!” Craig replies, incredulous. 

“I don’t know much,” Kenny admits. “but I know you’re being a coward. And I know you’ll regret it if you don’t give talking a chance. Both of you will.” 

The young freckled blond looks at both men in front of him. In all honesty, Kenny couldn’t bring himself to give less of a fuck for Craig. God knows he didn’t even like that guy. He was too violent, too rash. But Tweek did. Tweek liked Craig, and that’s all that mattered to Kenny right now. Because if he had realized one thing, it was that seeing Tweek Tweak smile is enough to lift off the heavy burden of guilt that has been on his shoulders for five years now. “Craig, you’re not angry. Not at Tweek, at least. If you truly didn’t care for him, you wouldn’t be like this after four whole years. And you know it.”

Craig looks away, trying to look as serious as he can. His puffy eyes and reddened cheeks don’t really help, though. It’s pathetic, Kenny thinks, but he can’t help but envy the worried look Tweek throws his way. “Of course I care!-” The black haired man tries to defend himself. “I just… I don’t want to go through it all again.”

“So?” Kenny keeps on pushing, a slight tiredness to his voice. When did he become a part-time therapist? “You’re scared?”

“I’m terrified!” Craig admits, and immediately regrets it, reddening even more. Still, he somehow can’t stop the words from coming out. “I can’t do it. Not again. I loved you- I loved you so much, you have no idea, Tweek. You meant my entire world.”

Now it’s Tweek who blushes, a clear look of guilt in his eyes. Kenny kind of wants to hold his hand, but he’s pretty sure Craig would kill him on the spot.

It’s almost funny, Tweek thinks. He always thought he was the scaredy cat in his and Craig’s relationship, but maybe he was wrong.

“I-I’m not here to hurt you again, Craig. Not this time.” He argues, surprised to find that his voice is back at a normal volume. Kenny smiles at him, encouraging the short blond to go on. “I know what I did was wrong. I know it was s-selfish. Stupid. But I’m not the same scared teenager I was back then, I swear.”

Craig looks a bit angrier. “You smell like weed, Tweek.” He sighs. “And those clothes aren’t yours, are they? Is this how you’re going to convince me that you’ve changed? That you’re clean? For how long, Tweek? A week? A month?”

Kenny swears he can hear something break inside of Tweek, with the way his wide open eyes get eerily still, his body completely unmoving. Somehow, it’s even more worrying that any twitches he might have, and it takes all in Kenny’s self restraint to not drag him out of the hospital room at this very instant.

“Four years.”

The words crash against Craig like violent waves against a cliff. He can feel his blood run cold. Oh. He was a terrible person.

"I-I didn't do it again, Craig. I didn’t- I didn’t break our promise." Tweek says, beginning to shake again. This time, Kenny doesn't stop himself from gently resting a hand on the crying blond’s shoulder, making Craig feel even worse. "I did- I've done everything. The therapy. The- The meditation. the meds. I still do."

Kenny feels Tweek’s hand grow shakier, sweatier, and he tries his best to reassure his friend, patting his messy hair. He makes direct eye contact with Craig, who is quite clearly planning his murder. Something about Kenny feels a bit better, knowing he can make the black haired man jealous. 

“I’m not asking you to get back together and f-forget what happened, Craig. Not even I can forget it. Not after what you did.” He continues speaking, but his eyes don’t even meet Craig’s anymore. “All I want is… forgiveness. I can’t live with you hating me, Craig. I-I really- I can’t-”

He ends up slurring his words, taking a deep breath to stop himself from crying again. He hates this vulnerable situation he got himself into. He hates Craig’s hurt eyes, as he seems to think his next words through.

The black haired man sighs heavily, closing his eyes for a couple seconds. He couldn’t handle it. His resolve crumbled on the altar of Tweek’s sincere gaze, his anger dissipated when he heard his vulnerable words. He had spent four entire years trying to hold on to the anger, the betrayal, the pain… Anything to keep himself from feeling what he had always felt. The very thing that had pushed Craig to the mess he had become.

Craig Tucker loved Tweek Tweak. He did in the past, just like he did now, just like he’s pretty sure he’ll always do. It’s just the way things are. The way they’ll always be.

“Get out”

“W-What?” Tweek asks, his eyes twitching, his skin crawling.

“I said Get. Out.” Craig repeats, carefully pronouncing every single syllable. “I can’t deal with this right now, Tweek. I don’t know what you were thinking, showing up here.”

“Dude, we didn’t just go through all of this for you to-”

“Shut the fuck up, McCormick.” The black haired youth spits. “This is our business, not yours. I don’t want your help. I don’t want your sympathy.”

Craig’s knuckles go white as he clutches his hands, trying his best to keep his lower lip from quivering.

“I just want you to get out. So do it, before I call the nurse.”

Chapter Text

Kenny loved his friends. Really, he did.

Ok, Cartman was an asshole, sure. But he was his friend. His best friend, at that. As much as he joked about his family’s background, as many fights as they had, Kenny couldn’t help but feel close to him. Kyle and Stan were nice, too, but sometimes they just seemed to live in their own little bubble. They were best friends, a very close duo, and Kenny couldn’t help but feel out of place at times.

Tonight was one of these nights. He had work, even though it was a Sunday, even though it was starting to get late. While Stan and Kyle hung out, while they spent their monthly allowance drinking and partying, Kenny rotted away at Skeeter’s.

Skeeter's was particularly rowdy tonight. One might think that Gerard, Randy and their likeness would mellow out with age. Truth is, not only did they somehow get worse, but more people started frequenting the place. Even though it is a Sunday night, next Monday was a national holiday- Kenny wasn’t too sure what it was about, but he also didn’t really care. He still had plenty of university work to catch up with, so it's not like he'd get any rest.

Plus, he hated shifts like these. He had agreed to work on Sundays and Tuesdays only, knowing the bar was often halfway empty during these days. But this? This was hell. First off, it was boring: Nothing to see but the same old faces doing the same old things. That was kind of a given, though, the kind of thing that comes with living in a small town. But what messed with Kenny the most was something else. 

There was nothing to do, even after his shift ended. Kyle and Stan were probably already too drunk to even answer his text messages, and he wasn't about to hang out with Cartman –He had been in a foul mood lately, and Kenny didn't want to put up with his tantrums today.

Even Karen was having a sleepover at her friend's house. Tonight there was nothing awaiting Kenny except a cold, quiet flat and his shitty porn magazines. 

The blond man sighs, checking his watch. Five more minutes, and he'd be free. Maybe it'd be boring, but it sure does beat working on a weekend

The old wooden door creaks, and Kenny forces himself to smile as nicely as possible to welcome the guest. The man who makes his way to him isn’t his usual customer, though. Almost like a God-sent angel, with a case of bed hair as terrible as ever, a very recognizable blond man smiles at him.

“Tweek?”

“Why do you sound surprised?” Tweek replies, a tinge of anxiety in his tone. “I can leave, if you want me to.”

“No, no,  it’s not that.” Kenny rapidly corrects himself, showcasing a nervous smile that makes Tweek feel slightly more at ease. He’s warm, in a weird, almost refreshing, way. “I just wasn’t expecting you out of all people to be here on a Sunday night. I guess Craig really got to your head.”

Tweek shakes his head, slowly, as he takes in the sights at Skeeter’s. A couple familiar faces, slightly drunk, too focused on their own fun to even notice Tweek walking in. He liked it, in a weird way. The anonymity feels comforting.

He then turns to Kenny, his gaze so soft and sincere it makes Kenny feel slightly weirded out. Not a lot of people in South Park give off that sort of feeling. “No, it’s not that.” Tweek says, taking a seat right in front of Kenny’s spot at the bar. “Craig is… Not great at communication. He may seem tough, but feelings really freak him out.”

“He’s an asshole, that’s what he is.”

“Kenny!” Tweek tries to scold his friend, but the smile on his face is too obvious to ignore. “He’s just slightly… Constipated, emotionally. Yesterday was probably as close to an apology as we can get.”

“Yeah, sure.” Kenny sighs, quietly scrubbing the bar top. “So you’re over him?”

“I’m… Trying.” Tweek acknowledges, breaking eye contact for a moment. Kenny feels slightly guilty for asking now. 

“So, if it's not heartbreak, why are you here? You don’t strike me as a Skeeter's sort of guy..”

Tweek nervously cleans his throat, before putting a small, cardboard bag on top of the counter. “Remember when I told you coffee grounds would get the smell off your truck?” 

Kenny blinks a couple times, almost in disbelief. “Is that…?”

“I- I hope you’re not offended.” Tweek quickly adds, slurring his words a little in his nervous rush. “I just thought… I kinda owed you, for helping me with the entire Craig thing. It'’s not like coffe grounds are expensive, anyways.”

The freckled man smiles, grateful. Usually, he doesn’t really get any help from strangers. Rather, it’s always him helping people out. Even when people do give him things, it just feels… Weird. Like they’re trying to buy their way into a better afterlife and Kenny just happened to be the quickest, most efficient route. 

But Tweek felt different. He was returning every bit of kindness Kenny had thrown his way, with a smile so sweet it felt as if accepting his gifts was a gift on its own. As if he genuinely cared, as if he really paid any attention.

“Thanks, man.” Kenny mumbled, trying his best to sound unfazed. 

“Just leave it in the truck overnight, and it should clear the smell out. Be careful about leaving it for too long, though….” The shorter blond indicated, leaning slightly over the bar, his olive eyes twinkling slightly beneath the shitty lighting. Kenny finds himself holding his breath, staring so deep into Tweek’s face that his words mesh into an intangible mess.

Kenny wonders if Tweek’s hair is as fluffy as it looks. Sure, it’s a bit messy, but it kind of reminds him of daffodils. Of the warm sun on a winter afternoon.  He vaguely remembers running his sleepy fingers through Tweek's head as he slept just one night ago, warm in between his arms, his face nuzzled on Kenny's chest. The feeling is so vivid, and yet so distant. So comfortable, and yet it makes Kenny's heart ache in longing.

Why did someone as jittery and anxious as Tweek make his heart feel such warmth and comfort? Why-?
“Kenny? Kenny, are you alright?” Tweek waves his hand in front of Kenny’s absent face. He seems concerned, and the slight pout in his lips draws a smile on the taller man’s.

Kenny takes a deep breath, trying his best to get himself together. “Yeah, sorry. Just… Thinking.”

“About what?”

“Nothing that matters.” Kenny answered, a bit court, but his tone is gentle enough to not scare Tweek away. If anything, he just sounds… Defeated. “So… You came all this way just for this?”

Tweek anxiously looks away. “I… I guess I did. I didn’t really have much to do. I-I know I could’ve brought you the plant I told you about, but I walked here and I was afraid I’d let it fall and then it’d die and then you’d hate me and-”

“It’s fine, Tweek.” Kenny reaches over the counter, gently resting his hand on top of Tweek’s with a reassuring smile. Tweek visibly relaxes, his shoulders drooping, his eyes briefly closing as he basked in Kenny’s warmth. Small as it is, the contact sends a very particular, very unwelcome, fuzzy feeling all through Kenny’s chest. His entire body screams at him to not let go. 

“You didn’t have to do this, you know.” Kenny softly says, his voice low. It was almost as if the rest of the bar blurred around them, as if they were in their own little bubble. “You being here is more than enough.”

Tweek looks down at his hands, still resting on the bar’s counter. His pale skin almost glows in the bar’s warm lighting, Kenny’s warm skin tone making his own look even whiter in comparison. He finds it disgusting, but Kenny looks at him as if he were an angel fresh out of heaven. “I know. I just… Wanted to. You’ve been really nice to me, Kenny. We’re friends now, aren’t we?”

“We are.” The words feel bittersweet in Kenny’s tongue, as he pulls away to do something behind the counter. Tweek curiously looks over, paying more attention than he should to his friend’s slim fingers at work. “You’re acting more like a stalker, though, seeing how you seem to track me down.”

“K-Karen told me!” Tweek quickly explained. Kenny smiles, watching the shorter blond’s furious blush through the corner of his eye. 

“So my sister likes you, huh?” 

Tweek nods softly, the smile upon his lips so heart warming Kenny has to force himself to look away so he can focus on finishing his job. “Yeah, I, uh, I think so. I mean, I hope so. It was a bit awkward, but I liked her a lot. She’s a good kid.”

Kenny hums in agreement, barely audible through the clanking of mugs and glasses as he roams through one of the cupboards. “Well, of course she does. She’s my sister, you bet your ass she’s got good taste.”

Tweek giggles, thinking about how unexpected Kenny’s “proud older brother” side was. He still remembered how upset Kenny would get at the mention of his parents even thinking about going for another kid, but Tweek guesses people, after all, do change. He himself was probably the best example anyways. “Thanks, I guess?”

A soft clink catches Tweek’s attention. A warm, sweet smell crawls its way to the short blond’s nose. “It’s on the house.” Kenny softly says, his eyes gentle. His turn is now long over, but he suddenly doesn’t feel like leaving anymore.

“You’re too nice, Kenny.” Tweek says, a warm pink dusting his cheeks as he took the hot cocoa cup in between his hands. He blows gently before taking a small sip, and Kenny finds himself staring a bit too much at his lips. “It’s really good. Maybe I should come visit you more often.”

Kenny nods a bit too eagerly. “Yeah. You should.”

“I didn’t really think you’d be into things this sweet, though.” Tweek mumbled, almost to himself, staring at his own reflection in the dark brown cup. “You look more like a salty snacks kind of guy.”

“Oh, I like plenty of sweet things.” The taller man replies, a sly smirk to his lips, the thrill of risk in his heart. He should really stop himself from speaking, but he doesn’t. “Why else would I like you?”

Tweek violently coughs, choking on the cocoa, face red as the setting sun. “Oh Jesus! W-What?”

Kenny innocently bats his eyelashes. “I said I like you. You’re a good guy, Tweek, and a great friend. I like spending time together.”

The decaffeinated blond is ashamed enough he seems about to go out and throw himself into the road in hopes someone would run him over. He tries his best to play it off. “O-Oh, so that- That’s what you meant.” He clears his throat. “I-I like spending time with you too, Kenny. Feels nice to have a friend that I don’t… That I don’t share with him.”

Kenny doesn’t quite know how to feel. Part of him feels glad, victorious, almost, as if he had just won at his own little game. Another part of him wants to groan, the reminder that Craig Tucker is the one and only man in Tweek’s mind far too obvious, far too heavy on his mind. He tries his best to keep up his smile, though. “That’s good.”He tries his best to regain the reins of the conversation, to ignore any mention of Tweek’s ex lover. “I was just thinking… The other night was pretty nice, wasn’t it? You know, except the whole… Fighting, injury part. I thought, maybe it’d be nice to repeat it in calmer circumstances.”

Tweek goes quiet for a little time. The memories are still a bit blurry, but the feeling of warmth in his chest when remembering that day, almost as if Kenny’s body was pressed up against him again. He smiles through the shame. “Y-Yeah, I guess that sounds pretty nice. I’d like that.”

“It’s a date, then.” Kenny says with a sharp grin, as he expertly unties the knot of his apron, not breaking eye contact. Tweek tries to focus on the cocoa mug in front of him. He knew Kenny’s usage of the word ‘date’ is not as strict as most people’s, but it still felt so… Weird. “What are you doing tonight?”

“I…” Tweek feels a bit uncomfortable, clumsily trying to find the right words. Kenny ignores the disappointment that unravels in his stomach. “I don’t really feel like smoking, not tonight. Don’t wanna make it a habit.”

Kenny smiles, as if he wasn’t nervous enough to throw up a couple minutes ago. “Don’t worry, Tweakers. You don’t need to get high so we can spend time together, you know?”

“Oh” Tweek hesitated a bit before giggling again, and Kenny swears it's the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. “I’d love to, then. It’s a bit cold, though. Are you sure the rooftop is a good idea?”

Kenny shrugs. “The sky is really pretty tonight, though.” He wasn’t sure, though. When he started his shift, the sun was still shining brightly. “And… Well, you look nice in my parka.”

The taller man laughed it off, and Tweek felt himself joining, even through his nerves. It was nice to be next to someone so carefree, someone able to balance Tweek’s anxiety off.

“Sure, man.” He said. “So, will you give me a ride?”

“You bet your ass I will.” Kenny winks, slowly walking away from the counter,squeezing in between some of his usual customers to get to Tweek. The kid who was supposed to work right after his shift was nowhere to be found, but he decided it's not his job to care. “Let me pick up my keys and leave the apron, I’ll be right back.”

Tweek nods, taking another sip from the warm cocoa. He wonders why Kenny didn’t give him alcohol, or even tea. Hot chocolate felt… Weirdly childish, in a way. He usually hated this sort of thing.

People often treated him like some little boy, be it either because of his pitiful past or his very sexual orientation. They cherry picked  the aspects of him they wanted to consume, and got so caught up in their own consumption they forgot that Tweek, too, was a breathing human being.

But did Kenny treat him like a kid?

It wasn’t easy to tell. He was kind, maybe too much. But he didn’t feel patronizing, nor overprotective-  Kenny had been the one to offer him weed, and he had been the one to help him patch things up with Craig, not speaking on his behalf but rather helping him voice the messy thoughts in his head.

Whatever Kenny’s intentions were, Tweek found himself smiling fondly as he finished the warm cocoa, eyes fluttering shut as he ignored the rowdy crowd at the rundown wine bar.

It may be selfish, it may end in disaster,  but Tweek wanted to quietly bask in Kenny’s warmth for a bit longer. 

Chapter Text

Ah, yes.

It had been two weeks since his little hospital visit. A lot of things had happened, and, at the same time, none at all.

He and Kenny had made a habit out of that night at Skeeter’s. Tweek would often show up at whatever job Kenny had taken that day, and then they’d keep out eachother company for a couple hours. Sometimes they smoke, sometimes they just vacantly stare at the stars and talk about anything that crossed their minds.

It was nice. It’s not like Kenny was his only friend- he was slowly warming up to the rest of the theater club, and some of his classmates were not that terrible- but he was probably the closest to a best friend he could have. Not like he’d ever voice it, of course: Cartman is Kenny’s best friend, and Tweek would rather fight a drunk bull than an angry Eric CArtman.

On the other hand, things with Craig were… Static. He started showing up at the club like a week ago, after presumably being forced to by the university’s rector. He didn’t speak to anyone, he didn’t look Tweek nor Kenny in the eye. Craig would just silently follow any of Wendy’s orders,  polishing the last props silently.

The silence was odd, very uncomfortable, but Tweek preferred it to any heated arguments, let alone any fights. It’s not the way he wished his relationship with Craig would’ve ended, but things never go the way Tweek wanted them to. At this point, he’s learnt that he has only two options: Accept things the way they are and keep on pushing, or fighting against his fate until he burns out. And Tweek happened to really enjoy this whole “being alive” thing, so he decided to just… Ignore Craig.

He smiled widely, as Kenny quickly approached him, still in his costume, almost like a child expecting praise. Tweek silently hoped he wasn’t caught staring in his ex’s direction. “Kenny, you did great.” He softly says. The girls often paid a little bit too much attention to both blond’s exchanges, so Tweek had learnt to keep his distance and his voice barely above a whisper. “Have you been practicing during your breaks again?”

“No…” The taller man replies, looking away. His nervousness is suspicious, and Tweek raises an eyebrow. Kenny immediately decides its best to change the conversation topic, now looking over at the entire club. “So, uh…. I guess it’s over, huh?”

“Yeah, tomorrow’s the big day.” Bebe points out, taking a sip from her vanilla iced coffee. “Feeling nervous?”

“The performative arts students are going to be tough critics to please….” Wendy mumbles.

Heidi immediately chimes in. “Wendy, we’ve been practicing this for weeks! And you’ve done a great job as a director.” She pats her friend’s back, smiling brightly. “I have faith in us, guys. And if you fuck up, well, at least your costumes are pretty enough nobody’s going to bat an eye.”

Bebe proudly nods, clearly proud of her designs. “Yeah, I’m sure those theater nerds aren’t expecting something this cute!”

Tweek giggles at their banter. Bebe had grown to be quite an energetic woman, but maybe that’s what made her so endearing. She stood up for herself, and wasn’t afraid to voice her opinions. At times, Tweek couldn’t stop himself from envying her.

Kenny softly nudges Tweek’s arm, and the shorter blond’s little bubble bursts. “We should get things ready for tomorrow.” The tall man says, and the way his eyes focus on Tweek’s makes him feel as if he could see right through his tiny smile. 

Tweek nods, and is about to head to the stage to help pick up the props when Wendy holds him back. “Are you dumb?” She asks, but immediately corrects herself. “Sorry. Didn’t want to sound rude.” The black haired girl clears her throat. “But… It’s probably better for you to head out. I need all the actors to be well rested tomorrow, the rest of us will deal with this.”

“Well, if I get to leave early I’m not complaining.” Bebe jokes, shrugging. “Tomorrow will be a long day.”

“Yeah, Tweek, let’s head out.” Kenny beacons his friend, but something in his eyes tells Tweek there’s something else he’s not saying out loud. A secret plan Kenny’s not ready to share just yet, here and now. “Why don’t I give you a ride?”

It’s dumb.

Tweek lives in the dorms, which means it takes him less than five minutes to reach his bed. Even Kenny’s car wasn’t that close, and most people here knew it. If the girls weren’t suspicious of any romantic tension between the two, this would definitely be the last nail in Tweek and Kenny’s coffin. 

But, of course, curiosity killed the cat. And, well, Tweek was already far too used to this sort of gossip anyway. Might as well give them something new to talk about. 

So that’s how Tweek ended inside Kenny’s truck again. It was as uncomfortable as ever, but he had eventually kind of grown into it. It also smelled way better than before, although Tweek suspects that might just be him getting used to it. “So… What’s your plan?”

Kenny smirks at his question. “Well, you look pretty nervous, Tweakers.” He answers, almost mockingly, but Tweek is too used to it to even flinch. “I thought maybe some guy-time would help you relax.”

“Guy time?” Tweek raises an eyebrow. “I wonder what your definition of that is.”

“I was thinking… Maybe a shitty slasher movie? Stan recommended a new one.” The taller man shrugs, starting the car. The engine is too noisy, but there’s nothing they can do about it. “You could stay over, and I’d give you a ride tomorrow morning. You don’t have anything to do before the play starts, right?”

Tweek shakes his head, shifting in the passenger seat and looking out of the window as the car clumsily maneuvered itself away from the parking lot. “I’m not really big on those kinds of movies, though. Give me nightmares and shit.”

“Don’t worry dude.” Kenny says with a smile,  trying his best to drive smoothly. The setting sun hit the window at just the right angle, and the reddish light of the sunset bathed Kenny’s golden locks in the most beautiful of auburns. “We’re talking about a Stan Marsh kind of movie here. It’s probably bad enough you’ll laugh your ass off.”

The pale blond can’t help but chuckle. “Alright, alright. Should I pick up my stuff then?”

“Don’t worry dude, I can lend you my pjs again.” Kenny answers, and Tweek immediately blushes a bit, trying his best to stay facing the window, hoping his friend doesn’t realize. “The grocery store will close soon, and I need to buy dinner. Karen’s a growing girl.”

Tweek nods, and Kenny turns on the radio. Yet again, it’s Peruvian flute music that fills the air. “You’re as original with your meals as you are with your music.” Tweek points out. 

“Rude.” Kenny complains, pouting. “I’m creative as they come.”

“Yeah, sure. What’s for dinner today? Cereals and hot pockets?”

Kenny wants to be offended, he really does, but he finds himself chuckling carelessly. Yeah, that was his exact idea.

“You know, maybe I should do the shopping today.” Tweek shrugs. “It’s the least I can do for your sister. She’s always nice to me, and, just like you said, Karen is a growing girl. You can't keep feeding her trash.”

The smirk upon the freckled man’s lips only grows. Tweek realizes he’s got some sharp fangs. “You’re making it sound like we’re married, Tweekers.”

The paler man freezes for a bit, and Kenny catches the way his ears turn bright red out of the corner of his eyes. “Don’t get your hopes up, McCormick.” He tries to shoot back, but there’s a certain shakey quality to his voice he can’t quite disguise. “Just trying to be a good friend.”

“Sure thing, man.”

And with Kenny’s teasing tone, a new silence is inaugurated. He starts humming along with the music, just like he had many times before, softly bobbing his head to the beat. Tweek smiled to himself, staring at Kenny’s reflection in the window, still not daring to face his way. 

He liked being this close to Kenny, but looking into his eyes was a little bit too much. It felt… Slippery, in an odd way. Being with his co-star was too nice, too comfortable. Tweek had gotten attached too quickly, and he had grown into the giddy feeling in his heart a bit too fast.

Kenny felt like the recklessness he never had, the youth he felt he had lost many years before it started. He was easy to love, and Tweek knew it all too well. There’s a reason he has a reputation, even if he spends most of his time too busy to even meet his friends. Kenny had the kind of aura that’d make people trust him instantly, he was capable of that quiet reassurance you didn’t know you needed.

Tweek felt as if he was dipping his toes in the nicest, cleanest of pools. He felt excited, ready to give life another chance, and yet…. The memories of the suffocating ocean would never fade.

“Tweek?” Kenny asks for him, and the way he pronounces his name, as if it came to him as naturally as breathing.. Tweek turns to the drive seat, but it’s empty. Instead, someone gently knocks in the window. “Didn’t you say you wanted to get the groceries yourself?”

He blinks a couple times, and immediately gets out of the car, trying to smile through his embarrassment. “Sorry, I think the nerves are getting to me.”

Kenny eyes Tweek suspiciously, but if he has any questions he doesn't voice them. Instead, he just starts walking towards the grocery store, and Tweek immediately follows. “So… Any plans for tonight, chef?”

“I said I’d get the groceries, not that I’d cook.” Tweek points out, although he knows already he’s going to be in charge of the cooking anyways. “What kind of things does your sister like?”

Kenny pouts, and his eyes sparkle in just the right way to make Tweek’s heart skip a beat. “So you’re not going to ask me what I like?”

Tweek rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t bother disguising his grin. “Alright, Kenny. What would you like?”

“Chicken!” he immediately answers, and the cheerful tone is so genuine Tweek almost feels bad for his sarcastic question. “Fried chicken. Can we get fries, too?”

Tweek sighs, and takes a mental note of getting KFC for the Mccormick siblings. It’s not that his fried chicken recipe is particularly bad- I mean, it’s probably healthier anyways- but he guesses it doesn’t stand a chance.

“Alright.” He concedes, already starting to make his way to the fruits and vegetable aisle a bit too quickly. Kenny doesn’t seem to struggle catching up, though. “But you’re still getting extra vegetables. With this weather and your diet, it’s a miracle neither of you have vitamin deficiencies…”

Kenny simply shrugs, taking the plastic bag with the hand-picked vegetables from Tweek’s hands. “Guess you’ll have to cook for us more often.”

Tweek’s not sure how to react, so he immediately focuses his attention on checking the rest of the aisle, just in case he forgets something. “Do you have spices at home?”

Kenny looks away with an apologetic smile, and Tweek is about to sigh when he decides against it, simply patting Kenny’s shoulder with a little smile. “Don’t worry dude. I’m an expert at these things.”

Kenny smiles at that, and Tweek feels how his pretend-confidence grows into an honest one. He’s been living by himself for a while, and he always loved baking. Cooking wasn’t quite the same, but since he had quitted coffee he had started to focus more on the savory side of things. It was just too depressing, to eat his muffins with tea or plain water. So, eventually, he had tried his luck with the more savory side of things.

As they walk down the meat aisle and Tweek expertly eyes the different pieces of chicken, he feels a pair of eyes firm on the back of his neck. A self-conscious chill runs down his back. “What?” He asks, turning around to face Kenny. He’s a bit closer than Tweek had expected.

“Nothing,” his friend replies. Even though his words hardly offer any reassurance to Tweek, his warm smile kind of helps him relax. “It’s just nice to see you like this. Confident.”

“Oh, I was plenty confident when I beat Craig’s ass.” Tweek tries his best to joke his own blush away, finally taking one of the plastic packages. 

Kenny lets go of a breathy snort, taking the containment out of Tweek’s hands. He seems rather insistent on carrying all the weight, and it’s not like the other man was complaining. “Yeah… You’ve grown a lot. Onstage, too.”

Tweek looks away, but he’s clearly smiling, as he mentally goes through the grocery list he had improvised. Slowly but surely, he walks towards the checkout line. “I try.”

Tweek’s eyebrows furrow. Kenny can’t really tell what he’s so angry at, but when he follows his friend’s gaze he encounters an obnoxiously colored “OUT OF ORDER” sign on the self checkout machine.

Taking in a deep breath, he looks for something in his own pockets, and, without making any eye contact, hands Kenny a leathery object,

“Your wallet?” Kenny asks, too dumbfounded to protest as Tweek takes all the groceries himself.

“Smalltalk sucks.” Tweek barely audibly mumbles, still not making eye contact. “Just… Please?”

The taller man fondly smiles, as he ruffles Tweek’s already messy hair. “Sure, man.”

Tweek simply nods, clearly not wanting to dwell in the subject anymore. 

“So…” Kenny improvises, looking around them. There’s not a lot of people at the grocery store, and he bets the cashier is working to end her shift. She’s rushing a bit, so it shouldn’t be long before they can finally head back home. “How’re your classes going? Did you finish that one project?”

“Agh, no.” Tweek rolls his eyes. He’s annoyed, but the way he talks with ease again makes Kenny feel a bit better. “My Introduction to Physics teacher sucks ass. All he does is mope about his divorce and fail my assignments without any proper explanation…”

“Oh, woe is you! If only you had a particularly hot physics major that could help you…” The taller man dramatically states, a bit too loud, as they approach the very tired-looking cashier and Tweek begins putting down the groceries one by one. She says something about the total, and Kenny uses Tweek’s card to pay with a court smile. 

Tweek rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t say anything, not in front of the exhausted lady. Kenny keeps his grin as he takes the grocery bag, already walking out of the building.

“I’m not kidding, y’know?” He continues, letting the grocery bags on the pickup truck’s back. Tweek kind of wonders if they won’t just roll away into the pavement, but he decides not to speak about it. It’s not like he knows nor cares about this rundown vehicle that already has disrespected gravity repeatedly. “I can help you with that sort of stuff.”

“I know…” Tweek admits, struggling to get the copilot door open, as he always does. IT eventually gives up, and he plops himself into the seat. “But you’ve got enough on your plate as it is, Kenny.”

Kenny sighs, taking his place behind the wheel and fastening his belt. He looks uncharacteristically serious as he stares deep into Tweek’s eyes. “You’re my friend, dude. Helping you is kind of my entire thing.”

Tweek looks away, suddenly feeling nervous. “I… I’ll think about it.”

Kenny smiles again, as he starts the car, noisy as always. They both drive rather hastily through South Park's poorly lit streets, heading towards Kenny’s modest flat.

Karen is waiting in the living room, just as she always is. The moment her brother opens the door, she’s already smiling widely, a beautiful, hopeful sparkle in her eyes as she quickly sprints towards the door, immediately tackling Kenny in an enthusiastic hug.

“Took you long enough!” She gleefully greets him. “What were you doing out there, huh?”

Kenny chuckles, as Tweek gently takes the grocery bags out of Kenny’s hands, setting them on the kitchen counter. He hugs his sister back tightly, raising her in the air just like he had done when she was just a child. “Hey, I’m here now, ok? Tweek even agreed to cook dinner for us.”

“I didn’t-” Tweek tries to reply, but seeing the hopeful look in Karen’s eyes, he just sighs. “I’ll do my best.”

Karen lets go a little “yay!”, punching up her hand in the sky as her brother sets her down, ruffling her hair. “Don’t forget you promised to help me with my math homework, though!”

“How could I forget?” Kenny nods, stretching a bit. Sitting in the Tegridy truck really doesn’t help with his aching back.. “Let me wash up and we’ll get right to it, alright?”

The middle child of the  McCormick offers his little sister a smile as he heads towards the bathroom, and Karen decides to head into the kitchen too, looking for their blond guest. 

“Tweek?” She asks. “What are you cooking?”

“Your brother asked for fried chicken.” Tweek answers, as he washes the vegetables, his sleeves rolled up to his elbow. “Do you like it?”

Karen nods, looking over his shoulder. “That doesn’t look like chicken, though.”

“It’s for accompaniment. Or side, whatever you call it.” The blond man explains, cautiously putting the vegetables aside with a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry. I know all the greenery looks kind of yucky, but I promise you’ll love it.”

“Well, at least I’m sure you’re a better cook than my brother.” She jokes, shrugging. “Hey, can I lend you a hand?”

“You can start beating the egg while I prepare the spices.” Tweek hands her a fork and a bowl. It wasn’t even close to the size they needed, but it looked like the McCormick sibling’s household didn’t have many options. “We’ll add the buttermilk then.”

Karen nods, getting an egg from the fridge. She cracks it on the bowl, and soon starts following Tweek’s order. He does the same, adding the spices and the flour in a different bowl and mixing as gracefully as he can.

“So…” The 14 year old girl starts speaking, and Tweek feels his heart soften. For such a timid kid to start smalltalk, she must really be trying to get closer to him. “Are you going to sleepover tonight?”

The question surprised Tweek a little bit, but he didn't allow his surprise to mess with his work, and kept on gently mixing the ingredients. “Oh, did Kenny tell you?”

“No… But he usually doesn’t shower before dinner, even if he’s gross.” Tweek tries not to laugh at Karen’s honesty, as he sets the bowl aside and searches for the buttermilk. 

Tweek carefully pours the buttermilk into the beaten egg, and signals Karen to keep mixing. “Yeah, Kenny told me I could stay over tonight. I hope you don’t mind it.”

“Not at all.”  Karen replies in a cheerful tone, spilling a bit of the mixture on the counter. “It’s nice to have you around. My brother looks a lot happier.”

Tweek immediately feels himself blushing, so he tries to focus on chopping the chicken. “Y-Yeah, it’s nice being here too.”

Karen hums, backing away as Tweek gently takes the bowl off her hands and places the chicken pieces inside. “You know, I've been talking with Tricia again.”

Tweek swallows hard, as he sets the bowl aside and goes back for the vegetables. “You have?”

“Yeah. She’s my best friend, I told you.” Karen shrugs, staring as Tweek begins peeling some carrots. “Can I help you with that?”

“It’s fine. Kenny would probably kill me if you cut yourself anyways.” Tweek jokes, ignoring the nervous knot on his stomach. “And, uhm, how’s Tricia doing?”

“Same old, same old” the young teenager sighs. “She keeps complaining about her brother. Apparently he’s acting all weird again.”

Tweek feels the guilt start to resurface, and misses his own fingers by millimeters. At least he’s already finished cutting up the carrots, so he starts preparing the pan. “Well… I’m sure Craig will eventually bounce back. Maybe ‘acting weird’ is just a step towards healing.”

The oil begins sizzling, and Tweek picks up some of the carrot sticks to drop in.

“Do you still like Craig?”

The question surprises Tweek so much he lets go of the sticks at once, making the oil splash a little. A burning drop lands on the back of his hand, but he’s too nervous to even realize. 

Kenny asked him this same question like twenty times a day. Tweek didn’t really like it, but at least he didn’t struggle with answering, with being sincere. Kenny had the inviting kind of aura that would make it just oh so easy to talk to him.

Karen, on the other hand? There was fire in her firm stare. Her question wasn’t out of curiosity, nor concern. It felt as though there was something else, something dangerous.

Chapter Text

When Kenny entered the kitchen, what awaited him was truly a sight to behold. His favorite person in this entire world, Karen, happily teasing his adorable friend as he cooked dinner. He had some flour on his nose bridge, and Karen’s shirt had gotten stained with something Kenny can’t quite identify.

It feels so… Domestic. A budding moment that could eventually bloom into a full blown routine.

Tweek  wouldn’t complain either. The sound of the opening door had caught his attention, although he could not turn immediately -he didn’t really want to get any more burns today. When he eventually managed to look over his shoulder, still managing to keep an eye on the sizzling pan out of the corner of his eye, he felt his face violently redden.

Kenny still smelled of shampoo. His skin, still moist, glistened beneath the slightly intermittent kitchen light. It held a bit too tightly to his oversized white shirt that clung to his chest and shoulders far too close for Tweek’s comfort. Even his hair was still wet, sticking to his forehead, to his neck, strands of gold drawing rivers on his skin.

“Hm… It smells really good.” Kenny’s voice snaps Tweek out of his trance, and he tries to get his act together once again. Something about his face must give him away, though, since Kenny now looks at him with concern obvious in his face. “Hey, man, are you ok?”

"y-Yeah! I'm just…"

Tweek trails off, nervous. He’s never been good at making things up underpressure, and he can already feel his entire body run sweaty. What is he supposed to say? ‘Oh, yeah, just checking you out dude! Hahah. Just platonic bro-stuff, y’know?’. Yeah, no. It doesn’t sound too great. Maybe he should just start digging, and he’ll be able to bury himself soon enough…

Karen sighs, stepping in between the two men and breaking the odd tension. “Hey, dinner is almost ready, so why don’t we do my Math homework?”

“Yeah, you guys should get to that.” Tweek nods, turning back to the burning furnace. He tries to convince himself that the heat in his cheeks is nothing but a reflection of the bright flames. “It’ll be done soon, so you better hurry!”

Kenny nods, but he doesn’t even pretend to be convinced, as Karen drags him to her bedroom. Tweel can feel his eyes on him, even after Kenny has already turned around, a chill running down his back.

He quietly stirs the pan, still feeling his heart beating hard enough he fears it might just burst out of his chest. Kenny was a nice kid, that’s it. He had shown him kindness, and he was sort of cute, in his very own way. But that’s it. They were just… Friends. 

Tweek knew he couldn’t do this, not to Kenny. A new love won’t just drive out an old one, and four entire years of memories can’t just disappear. He couldn’t give away his heart, when it had never been his to begin with. 

Craig sighs, a cloud of mist leaving his lips, the cold evening air ruffling his hair. It was always cold there, in South Park. The sun had set long ago, and now its warm, golden rays bathed some asshole therapists down in California.

Craig checks his phone again. It’s 8:27, and he knows he should be patient. There's only three minutes left,  and impatience is only going to make it more unbearable. Of course, that’s the logical reasoning. But logic doesn’t stop Craig’s nervous heart to force him to look yet again at the screen. 

This time, it lights up.

Bae<3: yyuo wont believe what happend

Oh. He had left a bit early today. That wasn’t usually a very good sign.

You: What’s wrong honey? :3

Bae<3: Craig?

You: No, honey, I am not stalking u

You: I replied fast bcs i was waiting for u lol

Bae<3: oh

Bae <3: thank u mahn

Craig chuckles, a bittersweet feeling in his stomach. He’d wait for forever if it was for Tweek, even after his hair had grown gray and his limbs tired and fragile. 

You: So what happened? Did that crazy doctor ask smth weird again?

Bae<3: ohno, tha t lady got fired 

You: xD

You: Well she deserved it lol

Bae <3: hahskkfha

Bae <3: but that awasnt what i wanted to tell y

You: do u wanna call? :3 u can tell me about it then

You: I miss ur voice

Craig also misses the softness of Tweek’s hair, his cool skin beneath his own. The beautiful twinkle in his olive eyes, bright enough to light up the darkest of rooms.

He doesn’t say any of that, of course, and he just picks up Tweek’s immediate call with the most foolish smile anyone has ever seen.

“Craig! Ugh! You will NOT believe this! I sweat it’s”

Craig takes a deep breath. Tweek’s voice sounds shaky, scratchy, and panicky. Whatever he continues saying is too fast to even understand. “What’s wrong, honey?” He hopes his own tone calms down his boyfriend, just like it always does.

Tweek seems to realize none of what he’s saying is getting through to Craig, because he tries his best to speak in a calmer manner. “The new kid at rehab sneaked in a lot of really shady stuff. I told him- We all did, we told him he’d get us in big trouble! The wardens are totally going to kill us, Craig! And I talked with the kid, so I’ll be the first kid they’ll suspect, and then they’ll tell my aunt and then she’ll disown me and I’ll go back to foster care but since I’m so old already they’ll end up sending me to a shady organ trafficker and then-”

“Woah, woah. Tweek. Calm down, babe. None of that is going to happen.” Craig tries his best to sound as sweet and reassuring as possible, but his voice comes out monotone as always. He silently curses his genetics. “Why don’t you tell the doctors about this?”

“N-No, the new kid has tabs on me! This is a serious thing, Craig! He’s got whole packages of the stuff- That kid is dangerous! What if he’s secretly some drug lord’s son? If I snitched on him he’d send his entire family after me! They’d murder me! Wait, no- They-They’ll probably torture me first! And then they’d send my aunt pictures, and then they’d send my-”

“Dude. Chill.” Craif this time answers a bit more rough and stern that was necessary. “You’re being paranoid right now.”

“No, Craig, you don’t get it! You don’t know what it’s like here! He’ll fucking end me! And then he’ll cut my corpse in so many little pieces that I won’t ever be able to have a proper funeral, so I’ll go to hell and Satan will torture me for eternity, and my grandma up heaven will-”

“Tweek.” Craig interrupts. Tweek immediately shuts up, an uncomfortable feeling stirring his stomach. There’s something about hsi boyfriend’s tone that just doesn’t feel right. “Did you take anything again?”

There’s silence on the other end of the line, and that’s enough of an answer for Craig. He takes in a deep brath, but not even the cold, fresh air flooding his lungs is able to soothe the roaring fire that is rapidly devouring his last bit of patience.

“You were clean for MONTHS, Tweek. I don’t think you know what you just threw away-”

“B-But the new kid- he..!”

“He what, Tweek? He forced that shit down your throat? Up your nose?” Craig asks, his tone bitter, dark, poisonous. “You can’t keep pushing the blame on others.  You have to face your responsibilities-”

“I am facing them, Craig!” Tweek shoots back, even though they both know it’s a lie. “If you would just listen to me-”

“No, no I won’t. Not this time. You listen to me.” Craig interrupted. “Now it’s the new kid, but last time, it was your aunt’s fault. And what was it that other time? An accident? Bad luck?  A crazy coincidence? Anything other than yourself, huh?.”

“I’m trying by best!”

“Your best? THIS is your best? Tweek, you’ve thrown away MONTHS of effort-”

“I know it! I know it better than you do!” Tweek screams, and just from the tone of his voice Craig can already tell he’s crying. This time, however, he’s too pissed to act like he cares. “Jesus! You’re such an asshole.”

“I just care about you, Tweek. Is that such a crime? To care about my own boyfriend?”

It takes a while for Tweek to talk again. “Craig, I… I’m sorry. I won’t- I won’t do it again. I swear.”

“You always say that, you know?” Craig insisted. “You say you’ll get better, you sweat it won’t happen again… But it happens, Tweek.”

“Not this time! I swear!” The blond’s voice is desperate, pleading. It ties a knot around Craig’s throat, but his pride helps him stay firm. “I know it isn’t easy but I… I want to do this, Craig, I really do. For you. For us.”

Craig rolls his eyes. “Sure you do.” and he just hangs up the phone. He’d love to say he felt regret, that he immediately realized he had done something wrong, but his pride blinded him. It wasn’t the first time this happened, anyways. He’d just wait a couple days, and then he’d message Tweek apologizing. The cycle would just restart, once more, hurting both of them in the process. But at least they were together, and that’s all that mattered to foolish little Craig.

It hurt so much to hang onto his boyfriend. It felt as though Tweek was made of the smallest shards of glass, and Craig was desperately holding them in his hand, no matter how deep the cuts were. But the shards keep spilling out, millions of minute crystals leaking all over the floor. He tried hard to not mind the blood, he braved his pain away. 

But his little apology message never got read, or even arrived at its destination. He’d never hear Tweek’s voice again, not for a long time. 

Five years and a heartbreak later, the truth was painfully obvious to Chema, who laid aimlessly in his bed. He had become so consumed by his fear of letting go, he never realized he was pushing Tweek away. And now?

Well now it was too late.

All he had was a broken arm to match, and a terrifyingly cold empty space in his bed. If he just had realized it sooner, Tweek would’ve filled his cast with doodles and adorable little messages. But right now, the only visible thing in the white plaster is Clyde’s obnoxious signature.

Craig wanted to cry his heart out, but nothing came out. Apparently, he wasn’t drunk enough this time.

He just vacantly stared at the ceiling, hoping to wake up, to discover it had all been nothing but a terrible nightmare that'd soon be over. He just can’t believe it, not if he wants to hold onto whatever sanity he has left. He can’t believe he ever hurt Tweek. He can’t believe he ever left, just like that, not one good bye kiss. He can’t believe he had seen Tweek cheerfully chatting with Kenny, so gorgeous, so full of light, as if nothing had ever happened. Getting in his car as if it was out of habit.

Craig closed his eyes, knowing all too well the memories would just keep replaying in his head for what’s left of the day. 

Tweek was staring holes in the humble computer that rested on Kenny’s stomach. The terrible special effects didn’t seem to really get to him, the blood so brightly colored it almost looked a neon shade of pink. Rather, he seemed quite invested in a certain character. Kenny noticed how Tweek’s shoulders would tense at times, and he couldn’t help but chuckle, resting his arms on top of the shorter man’s shoulder.

Tweek seems to catch on Kenny’s laughter, and immediately turns around to face him. “What’s wrong, dude?”

“Sorry. You just look…” Kenny thinks twice about how he should continue his sentence, dragging the last word a little bit. “Like you don’t actually know what’s about to happen.”

“Well, I don’t. That’s the entire point of the movie, isn’t it?”

“C’mon, dude, you can’t be serious!” There’s an amused tint to Kenny’s question, free of judgment. “I mean… Look at her! Blonde girl, big tits, skimpy Halloween costume?”

Tweek’s face immediately twists. “What? Gross, dude! Why would I stare at her chest?”

“That’s not the point, Tweekers.” The freckled young man shakes his head. “She’s had a sex scene! And she was with the stoners in that first scene.”

“So?”

“So she’s going to have a completely fucked up death. Obviously.” Kenny shrugs. “She’ll probably be naked and all too.”

Tweek sighs. “Well, I don’t think so. She’s like, the least insufferable character in this God-awful movie. Why would they kill her off?”

There’s a playful sparkle across Kenny’s eyes, who immediately smirks sharply.”Why don’t we make it a bet, then?”

The shorter man seems to think about it for a second, staring at the screen for a little longer, as if the answer was hidden somewhere in the overly gruesome scene.  “And what would you bet?”

“If I win, you take me to that place I told you about when I took you to the hospital.”

The response’s so quick that it sends a smile up Tweek’s lips. Did he really want to go there that bad? Well, Kenny was on a tight budget, so it does make sense he would be waiting for someone else to treat him. The pale man reminds himself to keep this in mind: He wouldn’t have made Kenny wait for so long if he had known this.

“And what if I win?”

“I don’t think you have to worry about that, Tweekers.” Kenny teases, and Tweek swears he’s never seen someone look that great with a gap in their teeth. Was ‘fucked up teeth’ his type?

Kenny seems to realize his friend’s distress, so he moves ihs hand from Tweke’s shoulder to the side of his head, gently inviting the shorter man to rest his head on Kenny’s shoulder. Tweek doesn’t fight it, pulling on the old but cozy blanket to cover both of them more comfortably. Kenny ran hot, and he could feel his warm skin through the thinning fabric of the worn down pajamas, but nights in South Park weren’t known for their gentleness.

It doesn’t take a long time before the most pointlessly gruesome scene in the movie plays out.

The cheerful young blonde is cornered in a dark shed, big blue eyes widening in fear as a shitty montage of the masked serial killer knocking her out takes over the next scene. 

Kenny’s basically vibrating with excitement, even though he tries to keep a somewhat straight face as he watches Tweek’s reaction.

To his surprise, however, there’s no fear on Tweek’s face. He just stares firmly into the scene, not even flinching, with a strange sense of detachment. It almost feels as though he’s studying it.

When Kenny’s gaze returns to the screen, a naked blonde actress helplessly tied in a dimly lit basement welcomes him back. She looks terrified, trying to speak through the gag in her mouth, her mascara running down her cheeks.  Tweek holds his breath, almost as if he’s trying to figure out how she’ll talk her way out of the situation, or how she’ll reveal this was all part of her plan all along.

As the killer raises his chainsaw, Kenny feels Tweek’s body tense up next to his own. But it’s no use: The villain strikes, and a series of chilling screams take over the terrible soundtrack. Honestly, this actress did not get paid enough.

Tweek sighs, defeated. “Alright, alright… You were right, she’s dead.” Tweek sighs, relaxing his shoulders. He doesn’t feel like giving Kenny the time to rub it in his face, though. “Does next Thursday after your shift work for you?”

Kenny nods, his triumphant smile all too obvious. He clicks out of the movie, a couple embarrassing advertisements pop up from the sketchy pirate site. Tweek looks away, grossed out, and Kenny tries his best to pretend to have no interest in the busty girls in his area.

“You wanna watch something else? It’s getting late.”

Tweek just shrugs, not moving from his position. He doesn¡t really feel tired, and leaving Kenny’s warm, comfortable bed sounds about as enticing as sticking his entire head in a boiling pot.

Kenny seems to ponder his options for a little bit, and ends up closing the computer and putting it aside. He doesn’t move from the bed, though, and because of the way they're both laying- with Tweek trapped between the wall and his friend’s body- it doesn’t look as though he’s asking the shorter of them to leave.

The freckles man breaks the silence with pleading eyes and a soft tone that should be illegal. “Can we talk for a bit?”

Tweek chuckles under his breath, trying to ignore the way his heart skips a beat, convincing himself he’s just glad to remain under the blankets. “Are you that nervous about tomorrow?”

“Just a bit” Kenyan acknowledges, much to his friend’s surprise. He always looked so cheerful, so impulsive… Certainly not the type to overthink some shitty theater function nobody actually cares for. “Aren´t you?”

“Obviously.” Tweek answers immediately, not even thinking twice about it. “But at least I get to be with my friends. If anything goes wrong, I know you guys will be there to help me.”

Those are strange words from a man who had spent his entire childhood and early teenager days thinking about how everything would go wrong, howñ everyone secretly hates him, how he was alone against the word. Kenny smiles, softly ruffling Tweek’s wild hair. “Well I sure hope you’re glad you’ve got me as a costar, huh?”

Tweek teasingly shrugs, feigning indifference. “Eh, It’s alright, I guess.”

Kenny laughs, trying to keep himself quiet. Karen was sleeping right on the other side of the wall, and he didn’t want to disturb her.  “Oh, c’mon! I bet you’re dreaming about the closing scene.”

Tweek feels his face burn, and he forces himself to look away. “It’s just another scene.”

“Oh, yeah?” Kenny teases, leaning in a bit too close for Tweek’s comfort. “And why do you always get so nervous, dude?”

“Because it’s cliché!”

The entire play is.

A prince from a far away kingdom meets a beautiful princess and falls in love at first sight. Just how childish is that? Tweek guesses the entire curse thing is trying to make it more mature, but the ending scene felt as if it was a cheat copy of some God awful Elizabethan play.

“Then, why don’t we make a bet?” Kenny asks, his tone playful and his smirk a bit too obvious.

“We literally just made a bet” 

“Oh, c’mon, you’re no fun Tweek!” The taller man insists, and the look he’s giving Tweek? That has to be considered a form of sorcery.

Tweek sighs. “Alright, alright… What’s your great idea?”

He should’ve known. Kenny McCormick should’ve come with a big warning sign, one that warns you about the kind of trouble you’ll get into, one that warns you to NEVER fall for his stupidly beautiful puppy eyes… And honestly? With his reputation, Tweek should’ve known. But he’s always had a soft heart, and it's not until he sees the borderline foxy smirk in his friend’s lips that he realizes how he’s messed up.

“Let’s play chicken.” Kenny proposes, his voice playful, teasing, and Tweek already feels his face grow hotter and hotter. “Whoever pulls away first during the last scene loses.”

Tweek clears his throat. “Didn’t- Didn’t we already agree we’d just pretend?”

His friend just chuckles, and the sound that comes out is low, mischievous. “We don’t have to do this, if you don’t want to. But where’s the fun in just pretending?” The way he drags his words, the slightly breathy way he speaks under the guise of not disturbing Karen, it all sends Tweek deeper and deeper into distress. “I bet it’ll be fun. We’re just friends, you don’t need to overthink this.”

Tweek groans, but even in the dark Kenny can tell he’s blushing harder than ever.

“Fine, whatever. But what are you betting?”

Kenny leans in, gently pulling Tweek his way too. The paler man feels his friend’s warm breath against his ear, his warm hands in his cold back. “Anything the winner wants. For a week.”

His voice sends a shiver down Tweek’s back, anticipation blossoming on the pit of his stomach. He shouldn’t do this, he shouldn’t fall for Kenny’s traps. But the way he says it, the way Kenny’s words keep resonating in his head even after he’s gone quiet, it’s all threatening to drive Tweek crazy.

“Ugh, you make it sound gross!” Tweek pushes Kenny away, but his tone isn’t offended. Rather, he’s playful. He doesn’t even remain away from Kenny for a long time, soon putting his head back on Kenny’s shoulder. “But you’re on, McCormick. You bet your ass I’m going to make you do my homework all week.”

Kenny throws his head back and chuckles a bit, now putting his arm around Tweek’s shoulder in a more friendly manner. “In your dreams, Tweak. You’ve got a beautiful week of doing my laundry coming your way, dude.”

Tweek playfully and gently punches Kenny’s arm, his smile making Kenny’s heart flutter. Not that he’d say anything about it, anyways. “It’s a deal, then.”

Kenny absentmindedly hums something similar to a “yes”, gently tracing little circles with his thumb on Tweek’s shoulder.

He knows it's wrong to tease his friend like this. Someone he doesn’t even know that well to begin with, at that. But it was so, so tempting, to see the way Tweek’s entire face would turn red, the way he’d squirm and look away. With most people in South Park being used to Kenny’s peculiar attitude, he hardly even got a response from them anymore. Tweek, on the other hand? He was full of surprises. A promise of excitement in this dull little town.

“I-It’s getting late.” Tweek’s voice brings Kenny back. “We should probably sleep.”

Kenny realizes the way his friend is looking at him. He probably wants him to move so Tweek can leave his bed and head to the guest’s bedroom. Well, technically, Kevin’s bedroom. 

“You can stay here.” He mumbles, pulling Tweek in a hug. “I’m too comfy. And it’s cold outside of bed.”

Oh.

Oh fuck.

Tweek can feel his heart beating furiously, as Kenny’s warmth becomes even more obvious against his body, his familiar smell making him slightly dizzy. They’ve done this before. 

Kenny is a touchy man. And  Tweek has been touch starved for five whole years, so it kind of felt natural for them to share some physical intimacy. But this? This feels different. Either because of the bet, or the way Kenny looked particularly enticing when partially bathed in the dim moonlight, Tweek feels a bit nauseous. He bites his lip, looking away. “I’m not sure if…”

“Don’t get all shy on me now, Tweek…” Kenny keeps pouting, hugging him a little bit tighter. “We’ve done it before, haven’t we?”

“I was drunk!”

“Correction, you were high,” Kenny points out, and even if he can’t see it from his position, Tweek knows he’s smiling. “C’mon dude. I won’t do anything funny, I swear.”

Tweek takes in a deep breath, as if he was trying to drown the conflicting feelings in his stomach. He then sighs, and his entire body relaxes in Kenny’s arms. It just feels so nice. To be touched, to touch someone, after all this time. For five whole years, all he had were other people who came and went, mainly angsty teenagers who got into drugs as a way of rebelling. He thought maybe that’d be his life. Maybe that was his fate.

But now he just felt so at ease. So comfortable. Kenny’s breath on his neck, warm, steady,  feels so right.

“Okay,” Tweek whispers, and it sends a shiver down Kenny’s back that he’s not addressing any time soon. “But you better don’t hog all the blankets.”

Kenny pulls away, and Tweek almost feels pitiful, missing his warmth. It gets a little better, though, when he sees Kenny’s bright smile. “I wouldn’t dream to.”

The taller man shifts in bed, making himself more comfortable, and Tweek decides to do the same. He faces the wall next to him, trying to give his friend space. Unsurprisingly, he soon feels Kenny turn around too, pressing his chest against Tweek’s back, and wrapping an arm lazily around him.

It burns. It burns so sweetly. Kenny nuzzles his face in Tweek’s hair, pulling him gently into his embrace. He shouldn’t, but Tweek finds himself basking in his warmth like a cat in a warm sun bathed couch. Maybe it's the loneliness, maybe it’s Kenny’s easy friendliness, but Tweek swears he hasn’t felt this comfortable in years.

He closes his eyes, enjoying the moment, feeling sleepiness slowly overtake him.  Kenny is awake, though. He can feel him, softly caressing Tweek’s side. Is he nervous, perhaps?

Tweek decides to break the comfortable silence. “Kenny?”

“Yeah?”

“You’d die pretty early too.” He says, and he feels Kenny’s breath hitching. “In a slasher movie, I mean.”

“Oh- You meant- Of course…” Kenny laughs, and the way his chest shakes slightly makes butterflies dance on tweek’s stomach. “Are you slut-shaming me?”

“I’m making an observation.” Tweek shrugs, jokingly. “But seriously, it’s so lame…”

“What is?”

“The entire thing!” Tweek groans, and the way he moves his head makes his hair tickle Kenny’s nose. “It’s just like in the theater. Pointless death.”

“Well, I guess it’s cathartic.” Kenny shrugs, and Tweek wonders since when did he use big words. “Or funny. Maybe? I don’t know.”

“It sounds horrible…”

Kenny giggles, and kisses tenderly the top of Tweek’s head. “It is.” He acknowledges, tiredness making his voice a bit lower-pitched than usual. “But now, young man, it’s time for sleep. I am not showing up with eyebags tomorrow.”

Chapter Text

“Speed? That’s vintage” The kid comments, with a mocking tone, as he eyes the ‘peace offering’ that Tweek shoves his way. “So very… Early 90s of you.”

Tweek swallows hard, looking away. He was risking his own neck here, sneaking that sort of stuff in. If anyone realized it, they wouldn’t let him go. Worse, even, he’d probably have to start rehab all over again, just like he had done at least a dozen times already. 

“Listen, this is it. Leave it or take it, but I can’t keep putting myself out there for you to…”

It was fast, but Tweek would have reacted soon enough to cover his face. He didn’t though, fighting against his most basic instincts, letting the kid’s knuckles be  met with his cheekbone in a painful impact.

It was better to take a beating than to start a fight he didn’t even want to win. 

You don’t wanna mess with someone who has it this bad. The therapists said it all the time: Meth consumption leads to decreased levels of serotonin in the orbitofrontal cortex, anterior cingulate cortex, and temporal cortex. Tweek has no idea what any of those words actually mean, of course, but he had memorized it after a year locked up in the rehabilitation camp. 

What he knows for sure, and by his own experience, is that when there’s meth on your veins, all you can think about is kill or be killed, fight or flight. Of course, people like Tweek would never fight, unless prompted to.

But this kid?

He didn’t seem to question his morality, as he picked Tweek up by the collar of his shirt. Tweek felt his eyes water from the impact, his vision growing slightly blurry, wonky. It was hard to breathe through his nose, so he guesses he’s probably either bleeding or badly bruised.

The kid leans in, close enough his forehead almost collides with Tweek’s. “I think you’ve misunderstood me, blondie.” Tweek can hear his heartbeat echoing in his own  ears, his breath rapidly hitching, the adrenaline rush hitting him so hard even the throbbing pain in his cheek feels numb. “I make the rules here. Unless you want me to tell the nurses about your little slip?”

He lets go of Tweek, but his words are by far enough to bond the blond kid in place. Hands cold. A sweaty back. 

“I asked for ice, and that’s the least you’re getting me.” The kid grunts, and Tweek braces himself for another hit. “Understand?”

Tweek stays still for a couple seconds, staring hard at the kid. His entire body is tense, but inmovile. Tweek swallows hard, and the copperish taste of his own blood keeps him grounded. “Understood.”

The new kid goes away, and Tweek’s let alone with his guilt and the unwanted cargo. The dirty, dirty feeling that would follow him all through his stay in this damned place. Knowing what he’s doing is wrong, but also knowing he’ll only get into much more trouble if he tries anything funny. Putting up with the pain, with the paranoia, just to get out of this white-walled hell.

The worst part is knowing it all could be over so fucking quickly. Relief is right there, waiting for him, but he knows he can’t. He shouldn’t. He promised Craig. And Tweek’s already let him down enough times. 

It always goes wrong. In the dream, anyway.

Tweek tried so hard. He put up with so much, and yet he never fell. Not again.

But in nights like these, he sees the yellowish powder calling his name, tempting him. 

He knows he’s dreaming because he gives in. His brain is torturing him again.

It feels so good. So euphoric, so exciting. Tweek can feel himself so much better than he ever has, his heart beating fast enough to match his speedy thoughts. His skin feels like its on fire, his feet dont even touch the floor.

Tweek feels alive. On top of the word, at that. And it fucking terrifies him, because he’s already aware he’ll soon wake up beneath a lifeless roof, with nothing in his system other than last night’s fried chicken.

He tries to remember it’s not real. His brain is just trying to convince him he needs to go back- but it’s not true. It never felt this nice. It was- It was fucking stressing. It felt like he was constantly verging on a heart attack.

He isn’t sure if it was his self awareness, or the rush of emotions going through his body, fake memories taking over. But Tweek soon finds himself waking up, rushed breathing and pale skin pearled with sweat.

It’s fine. IT’s over. He’s… Wait. Where is he?

He struggles making out the blurry shapes around him, his eyes still getting used to morning clarity.  Fuck, the migraine is killing him. Why? He didn’t drink this time, did he?

Tweek closes his eyes, trying to calm himself down. It’s probably just the stress getting to him, so, without opening his eyes, he tries his best to take in a deep breath. 

Obnoxious body spray. The distant smell of Tide laundry detergent mixed with a familiar scent.

Tweek breathes it in, then out.  He feels a very familiar weight in his lower stomach, something tickling his cheek. It’s slightly annoying, but he doesn’t want to  open his eyes nor move an inch.

It’s warm. He had missed this. Feeling real, touchable, tangible. Existing in the safety of someone else’s comfortable embrace. Tweek slowly opened his eyes, smiling when his gaze meets with Kenny’s sleeping face, who’s drooling slightly.

‘He’s such a mess’ he thinks, as he softly brushes some runaway strands of hair from Kenny’s forehead. The freckled man lays on his back, one leg over Tweek’s body, his head nestled on Tweek’’s neck. He moves in his sleep like an agonizing worm, but in a way, Tweek guesses it’s… Endearing. 

Trying his best not to disturb his friend’s slumber, Tweek cuddles a bit closer to his warm body. He doesn’t know exactly, but it feels nursing, healing. A comforting beam of light in the uncertain dark sea his life became before he could ever make a choice. He still can feel the leftover anxiety from tonight's nightmare, and any solace he can find is more than welcome.

Kenny’s slow breathing eases his own. Tweek never thought he’d ever be this close to someone again, he never thought he’d deserve it. But here he is. A lovely morning at Kenny’s bedroom, heartbeats mingling and tangled bodies. It's not the rush of dopamine meth used to give him, but in its own way, it also makes Tweek feel alive. On top of the word, in control.
He wishes he could stay like this forever. Vulnerable, comfortable. Not alone. But a quick glance towards his phone screen advises him otherwise.

Tweek tries to untangle himself from Kenny’s anaconda embrace,  immediately being faced with Colorado’s merciless cold. Careful as not to wake up his friend, he struggles to get out of bed, the cold floor beneath his feet feeling like ice daggers piercing away at his skin.

Tweek hopes Kenny doesn’t mind it, as he takes his friend’s slippers and makes his way to the kitchen. It doesn’t take long before the all too familiar smell of coffee fills in the room, making Tweek’s stomach twist. Not even the warm cup of lavender tea he made for himself manages to drown out the strong coffee scent.

He takes in a deep breath, deciding it’s best if he doesn’t linger. The breakfast is done, and it’s already getting late. He should probably wake Kenny up now, if they want to make it to their last rehearsal in time.

Tweek makes it back to Kenny’s room, sitting down gently by the edge. He softly nudges Kenny’s shoulder. Seeing how the strawberry blond just softly  grunts and turns around, Tweek decides to be a bit firmer, pinching his friend’s cheek.
“Hey man, wake up. Today’s the big day.”

Kenny’s eyes slowly flutter open, and the sight is just too funny for Tweek not to crack a smile. Golden locks stick out in every direction known to man, a zombie-like expression to match Kenny’s scrambled morning brains.

“Tweek?” He mumbles, his voice slightly hoarse from sleep. “Why are you in my bed?”

Tweek sighs, opening the blinds to allow more light to come through, earning an almost childish whine from the blue-eyed man in bed. Tanned as he might be, his genetics were just not made for sunny spaces. “Don’t tell me you forgot last night.”

Kenny throws his head back, groaning loudly and covering his face with his hands. When he takes his hands away, he stares up at Tweek with the face of a kid who just got told Santa had forgotten his house. “I forgot?” He murmurs something Tweek can’t make out (but he guesses is some sort of curse). Regardless, the pale man giggles softly, heart softened by his friend’s morning grogginess. “Who topped?”

Kenny’s question is met with an old pillow thrown right at his face. Tweek doesn’t seem angry, though, as he’s smiling widely. “What on EARTH were you dreaming about, man?”
The man in bed doesn’t reply, instead taking a huge yawn and stretching his back like some scared cat. The way his clothes slightly climb up his torso when he does so doesn’t go unnoticed by Tweek.

“I already made breakfast, so hurry up before it runs cold.” 

Kenny grunts again, but slowly starts to climb out of bed. He stretches one more time, now folding his arms beneath his head, and Tweek has to peel his eyes away, clearing his throat.

“I’ll wait for you in the kitchen, so you better get ready.” He says, already heading out of the room, ignoring the playful smirk on Kenny’s lips. “Wendy won’t forgive us if we don’t make it in time.”

Craig would rather not see the theater play, but he didn’t have many options. He needed to prove that he was indeed involved in the club so he could get that god forsaken extra credit that he probably wasn’t going to need anyways. 

It’s not like he had anything to do. The props were already there, the costumes had been sewn for over a week. Wendy was a ruthless director, who signaled everywhere all at once as if she had a hundred hands.

It was painful. Seeing Tweek, in that beautiful attire, plastic jewels shining beneath the warm light of the spotlight, the makeup that Bebe had forced on his face glistening like crushed pearls. His shoulders had gotten a good deal wider in the past four years. And when he spoke? When he acted?

Tweek felt so different , and yet so familiar. He was no longer a terrified young kid who can’t rest still for his dear life, but rather a charismatic young barbaric prince from a far away kingdom. His voice was steady, his arms didn’t shake nor even waver.

And his eyes?

His gorgeous eyes, green pale as laurel leaves, looked so firmly at the person he shares a stage with.

The first scene sucked. Craig had to stare, silently, as Tweek looked at Kenny in front of him as if he was a deity, a creature so beautiful it had bewitched the prince the moment he laid his eyes on it. Tweek was a damn good actor, enough to make Craig’s guts rest uneasy, nervous. Jealous. 

Kenny seems to feel his gaze, because for a second Craig swears they’ve made eye contact. It’s brief, though, and soon Kenny is back to twirling his obnoxious dress and horrible wig.

Craig does his best to keep his cool, sighing, trying to convince himself that there definitely wasn’t a smirk in Kenny’s flamingo pink lips as they crossed glances. He just tried to enjoy the play, doing his best to forget who the real people behind the characters are.

The rest of the scenes were all a little bit better. Craig already knew this, after being forced to stand and watch all through several rehearsals.  Now Tweek and Kenny’s characters parted, as the prince was sent on a quest to retrieve a magical item meant to end the princess’s curse.

But it was nothing other than the calm preceding the storm, and Craig knew it far too well. The final scene was approaching, the reunion was near, and he could feel the sweat on his palms, the dread scratching his very insides.

Tweek emerged from the backstage, and he realized he had never really noticed how beautifully Kenny’s dress glistened beneath the scene’s bluish light. The sequins looked like morning dew on top of the pink fabric, modestly pale because of some color theory Tweek had never cared about. 

When Kenny, or rather, the princess, walked towards him, quickly engulfing him in a tight embrace, Tweek closed his eyes, resting his hands on his friend’s waist to keep them both from falling over. Kenny’s body is just as warm as last night, perhaps even more. It somehow reassures him.

“My love! Thee hath returned!”

Tweek forces himself to look stern, trying to get into his character. It's never been this hard.

“Dids thee knoweth?”

Kenny steps back, and Tweek has to swallow hard to stay put, standing upright, looking angry.

“Whatever doth thee mean, my prince?”

“Dids thee knoweth about the dagger?”

The princess looks away, and Kenny bites his lower lip. He never did that, not during the rehearsals. Tweek gets a feeling he’s doing it on purpose. 

Motherfucker

“Mine own sweet prince, there’s nay other option…”

Tweek violently stepped foreward, making Kenny step back until his back was right next to a cardboard wall. It was all in the script, but the way Tweek leaned in, his eyebrows furrowed, his nose mere inches from Kenny’s was completely improvised. 

“Didst thee have fun playing with my heart?” He asks, and the low rumble in his voice almost makes Kenny break character. “I’ve allowed thee to calleth me a barbarian, even if’t be true mine own land is by far richer and more quaint than yours hast ever been. But I shall not allow you to make a murderer out of me, princess.”

Kenny sighs, and the way he arches his neck, letting the spotlight softly bath his long eyelashes is nothing short for sinful.  He then looks at Tweek with big, pleading eyes. Tweek was starting to get a bit too used to that look. “Tis only through death that I may rest! Doth thee not understand?”

 Damn, he’s good. He can’t cry on command the way Tweek can, but the way his voice trembles, the pained look in his face… He really is selling it.

“I won’t. I can’t.” Tweek answers, closing his eyes for a brief moment. “I can not bear to inflict thee any pain, my love.”

“Then free me, my prince!” Kenny pleads, leaning into Tweek, holding his hands and bringing them to his own chest. “Only that dagger can put an end to mine own suffering, and only thee shall beareth it,”

For a second, Tweek can feel himself forgetting his lines, his role. He can hear his own heart racing, as Kenny’s pleading eyes are a bit too close to his own, as his friend’s warmth crawls through his hands and into his back.

It’s fine, though. If anything, it just helps sell the entire “enamored prince” a bit better. When Tweek goes back to reality, he sighs, and pulls away from the princess. 

“But my princess… If I were to do it…”

“I’ve hath lived a most wondrous life, my prince.” Kenny speaks, and there’s a darkness in his eyes that actually makes Tweek want to hug him, to tell him everything will turn out fine. “I’ve met the braver man this land hast ever seen, and I’ve loved that gent so dearly. But my prince, mine own loveth, allow me to rest. I cannot beareth anymore sorrow.”

Tweek sighs, walking away to the center of the stage. “We couldst wait! Thee clouds live one more decade, haply two, and once the timeth is right…”

The princess follows him, dress twirling as he turns. “The time is right now, my love. I’ve hath lived for twenty years, and I’ve did enjoy mine youth. Put me to rest now, my darling, for that’s all I wish for.”

Tweek holds onto some memories. He remembers what it felt like, to be taking away, to find out the truth, to find himself alone. Completely, utterly alone in a situation that he had never wished to be in. He allows fragmented memories from last night's dream reply in his head.

Soon, his eyes are wet.

“Then I shalt joineth thee.” He states, his voice raspy but firm. The prince’s heart is broken, but he’s sure of his decision. “If’t be true we can’t be together in this life, at least alloweth us to rejoin in death.”

Kenny smiles, and Tweek turns around. They finally stand there, in the center of the stage, looking at each other. “Let us rest, my prince.”

The princess takes the first step, and they both embrace each other. Kenny holds on a bit too tight, taking in a deep breath, letting Tweek’s faint smell flood his lungs. Lavender, isn’t it? It’s weak, probably because Kenny’s own smell overpowered his after a whole night together.

But it was nice. Just the two of them, desperately holding each other. Because it was a play. It was fake.

Kenny didn’t have to think about guilt. Tweek didn’t have to think about Craig. It was just a princess and a prince, in a dumb university play, holding each other on an empty stage.

“I love thee, my princess.” Tweek says, and even though his voice reaches the audience, Kenny feels as if he’s speaking to him and him alone. “And in our next life, I shall love thee still.”

Without letting go of their embrace, Tweek pulled away slightly to get a better look at Kenny’s face. The light bounced off his light eyes, making them shine brighter than ever before. His freckles, up close, were much more numerous than Tweek would’ve thought, spreading over Kenny’s nose bridge and cheeks. Tweek smiled to himself, even though tears streamed down his cheeks.

“Then fulfill thy duty, sweet prince.” Kenny recites, sounding raw enough that some members in the audience are already beginning to sob. “Giveth us the second chance we deserve.”

He was lucky, really, to have such a lovely friend. Sure, Kenny might be a little bit rough around the edges, but he’s a nice young man  with a heart of gold and a boyish charm to him. And Tweek knew that he could always rely on him. On nervous nights such as yesterday’s, on boring days that feel long enough to be weeks… Kenny would be there for Tweek and Tweek would be there for Kenny. It had been a little less than a month since they both truly got to meet each other, but it all just felt so… Natural. So easy, so comfortable.

Maybe that's why it came natural to him to just cup his cheek, caressing the side of his face with a fond smile. 

“Won’t thee say it, my love?” He asks, leaning closer to Kenny’s face. “Won’t thee admiteth thy love?”

Tweek leans in, and he can feel Kenny’s breath merging with his own, his gaze oh so firm and oh so tender and oh so very fixed on him. It felt as if the entire word was spinning, and the two young men were at its center, holding on through the storm. 

Kenny looks down at Tweek, batting his eyelashes with a melancholic smile. “Words wouldst not suffice, my prince, to convey mine love. There’s nay language deep enough yond couldst fathom the depths of my affection.”

The shorter of them takes in a deep breath, his hesitation a bit too real for the stage, but fitting enough he doesn’t bother hiding it.  

It’s a bet. A game. A stupid little consensual thing that he’s doing with his friend. It was Kenny’s idea, to begin with. 

Tweek starts leaning in, slowly, almost closing his eyes. He looks at Kenny through his eyelashes. He’s not moving.

Is he going to back down?

The “prince” swallows, fearing he’ll mess up the entire play at the very last minute. Kenny’s breath is on his lips. His nose brushes against his own, and Kenny wraps his arms around his neck. 

It all happens in a second.

Excruciating pain crosses every inch of Craig’s body, his stomach revolves, his eyes water.

Tweek’s  leaning in when Kenny rapidly closes the distance between their lips. Instead of a chaste, sweet peck on the lips like the script is meant to go, Tweek feels as Kenny bites down on his lip. Hard.

It takes all the strength in his body to not pull away, praying nobody in the audience realizes it, as he tries to focus on what comes next. Kenny had at least been kind enough to bite him in an angle in which most people from the audience wouldn’t be able to tell whether it was an actual kiss or not.

Tweek takes the plastic dagger from his belt, not letting go of the “fair maiden” in his arms. In one swift motion, he pretends to stab Kenny on the back with the magical dagger, and his friend’s body grows limp, finally breaking away from the painful “kiss”.

Kenny’s heavy, but Tweek is a strong young man. When the strawberry blond lets himself fall on Tweek’s arms, he gently lets him down on the scenery’s wooden floor. Fake blood soon puddles beneath Kenny’s body, soiling his beautiful pink dress.

“Sweet dreams, my love.”

Tweek’s words are met with nothing but silence. The princess lays there, lifelessly, like an abandoned rag doll. He sobs, drying his tears with the back of his arm, spreading blood all over his face in the process.

Tweek lays down next to Kenny, ignoring the sticky red liquid seeping through his clothes. He takes the dagger to his chest, and closes his eyes. “We shall be reunited soon.”

And just like that, he pretended to stab himself, bursting the bag of fake blood on his chest and soiling everything again. Tweek makes a point to breathe as delicately as possible, trying to look dead enough for his picky audience.

A recording with Kenny’s voice sounds as the blood spreads through the wood planks, and both lovers lay together.

“And as we did lie there, side by side, our lifeblood minling together, I knoweth we hadst finally found peace. The curse wast broken, and we were free at least. Free from pain, free from suffering, and free from this endless cycle of death and rebirth.”

The curtains slowly begin to fall, and Tweek finds himself wishing they did so faster. 

“We may die here, but our souls won't fade. For where there is loss, there is also hope. Even in death, our love shall be everlasting.”

And just like that, the curtain falls.

Tweek immediately rises from the bloody puddle,  finally letting his expression be genuine. He furrows his bows, angry. “That wasn’t in the script, dude.”

“No, but it was fun.” Kenny shrugs, trying his best to stand up. It isn't easy to do so, with his over-the-top princess gown. Even though he’s clearly grumpy, Tweek offers him a hand that he gladly takes. “Are you mad?”

Tweek sighs, exasperated, but it’s far too obvious that his annoyance his only superficial. ”You were supposed to kiss me, dumbass.”

“I didn’t know you wanted to kiss me that badly.” Kenny smirks, and Tweek immediately reddens.

“That’s not what I mean, and you know it!”

It was meant to be a kiss. A chaste, delicate kiss. And that alone made him shy away. There’s no way in hell Tweek was expecting Kenny to just straight up bite his lip like that!

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Kenny asks, softly cupping Tweek’s cheek to examine his lips, running his thumb on his friend’s lip. It’s hard to tell with all the fake blood. “Sorry, man. I was just joking around.”

Tweek takes Kenny’s hand in his, and pulls it away from his face. “I-It’s fine. I’m fine.”

It’s pathetic, the way his anger is so easily subdued. But how could he be mad, when Kenny looks at him with those big eyes of his? He always looks so angelic, so pure. Blinding, like the sun on a summer morning.

“I’m glad.” Kenny softly says, before breaking in a wide smile. “Because that was fucking hilarious.”

Tweek rolls his eyes, but before he can reply, Bebe and Heidi are already there.

“It’s curtain call time, lovebirds. You can make our later.” Bebe teases, pulling lightly on Tweek’s sleeve. Both men try to answer, but soon the curtain is rolling back up and they rush to their places once again.

It’s stuffy. The dressing room was small, asphyxiating. It didn’t help that it was the only one available, making all four actors share the limited space, using the bathroom for anything that required any privacy.

Tweek tried his best to get rid of the red that had stained his face with a makeup wipe Bebe had given him, as his friends shared some muffins Wendy’s parents had brought.

“So, what did you guys think?” Kenny asks, stuffing his face.

“Better than I expected, that’s for sure!” Bebe answers cheerfully, leaning back on her chair as she glances in Tweek's direction. “I never knew you were this talented, Tweek. You came back just in time.”

Heidi nods in agreement, swallowing what was left of her blueberry muffin. “Yeah, it was great! I mean, that kiss scene? It was so hot!”

Tweek chokes on his own spit, much to his friend’s amusement. At least his suffering serves somebody. Kenny, on the other hand, seems unbothered as always.

“Yeah, we totally nailed it, huh?” He proudly states, brushing off some crumbs from his mouth. “I thought improvising a little bit wouldn’t hurt.”

Wendy clears her throat. “Well, it was risky.” she points out, clearly not a big fan of this entire ‘improvising’ thing. “But it went well, so… Congratulations.”

Bebe sighs, putting her arm around her best friend. “Oh, Wendy, c’mon! Cheer up!”

“Yeah, Wendy.” Heidi agrees. “I’m not letting you go to the party after this if you’re going to act all uptight.”

The black haired girl rolls her eyes, but her fond smile isn’t fooling anybody.

Suddenly, “El Cóndor pasa” fills the room, and everyone turns towards Kenny, whose phone vibrates in his hand. He offers an apologetic smile, as he steps out of the room. “Sorry. My sister.”

Tweek nods absentmindedly, trying to refocus on cleaning his face. He can feel the girl's firm stare on the back of his head, though, and Tweek fears the worst.

“So… You and Kenny, huh?” Bebe is the first to ask, her teasing smile white enough to film a commercial. 

“I-It’s not like that-” Tweek tries to explain. “We’re just friends.”

“Yeah, sure.” Bebe insists, mockingly. “Just friends who bite each other and arrive together in the morning.”

Tweek flinches slightly. “I- Gah- I’m telling you, it’s not like that! We just slept together.”

Oh.

Fuck.

That sounds wrong, and when he realizes it, Bebe and Heidi are already laughing their asses off. Even Wendy is chuckling. 

“Not like THAT” He tries his best to fix the situation. “We had a sleepover. And you know how Kenny is…”

“Yeah, he’s a pervert.” Heidi shrugs, but Wendy softly pushes her a bit.

“Well, he is.” Tweek admits, remembering the tons of magazines in Kenny’s bedroom. “But that’s not what I meant. It’s more like… He doesn’t really have many boundaries, you know? He’s a very physical guy. I feel like he probably does this with anyone he comes across.”

“Well, he is a slut.” Bebe nods. “But the way he looks at you… I don’t think it’s the same, Tweek.”

The young blond man sighs, not really knowing how much of their shared history he’s allowed to share. “He just… Pities me. It’s a long story.”

Wendy seems to be about to comfort her friend, when Kenny comes back into the room, smiling brightly. He immediately approaches Tweek, absentmindedly putting his hand on his friend’s shoulder.

“What did I miss?” He asks, unmoving, and his amused smile is perhaps the clearest proof that he had heard something. “I sure do hope you weren’t gossiping behind my back.”

Tweek tries to reply, but Bebe, as always, is by far faster. “Oh, don’t worry dude,” she replies, and the way she pushes her blond curls from her shoulder makes Tweek fear for his life. “We were just talking about your crush on Tweek.”

Kenny laughs, but the blush in his cheek is obvious even to Tweek.

“What, you guys jealous?” Kenny winks Bebe’s way, but it has about the same success rate as trying to bribe a wolf out with carrots. “Don’t worry. There’s enough McCormick to go around.”

Bebe sighs, rolling her eyes, but she does give up on the topic. “Ugh, you’re disgusting.”

Kenny dramatically pretends to be hurt, but soon breaks into a very particular smile. Apologetic, almost. “Well, not tonight. I’m afraid I must leave early, ladies. Duty calls.”

“So you’re not coming to the party?” Bebe seems bewildered by this idea. “That’s so lame.”

“Yeah, Kenny.” Wendy agrees. “You’ve worked pretty hard for this play. Isn’t ‘work hard party harder’ your entire thing?”

Kenny cringes, looking away. “Yeah, well. My sister’s ill, so I should probably head back.”

Oh.

Most girl’s faces twist into one full of pity. Everyone knew about the McCormick situation, how Kenny had to take care of his little sister from such an early age. It was admirable, but above all, it was an uncomfortable situation.
Nobody dared say anything other than their brief ‘byes’ when Kenny walked out. Only Tweek, who knew pity far too well, followed him closely.

“Dude, wait!” He called, running through the parking lot, hair sticking up in every direction. “Ken!”
The freckled man turned around, parka lightly glistening in the twinkling lights. “Are you alright, dude?”

They are both face to face once again, and Tweek stares up at his friend with the intensity of a dying sun. “I should be asking that.”

Kenny graces him with a half smile, hand immediately reaching for light blond locks. When did it become  a habit? “It’s fine.”
“That’s the issue, man!” Tweek immediately screams, not realizing just how loud he’s being again. “You’d normally be like, totally freaking out if your sister was ill. So why aren’t you?”

The golden haired seems amused by Tweek’s observations, and immediately and subconsciously rewards him with a wide, bright smile. “She’s not really ill.” Kenny leans against the white truck, sighing. “Karen is an awful liar. But she wants me to go home, so I’ll go. Maybe she feels lonely.”

“I know you’re trying to do your best, as her brother. But…” Tweek ponders his next words carefully. “Remember to take care of yourself too, alright?”

There’s a couple seconds of awkward silence. Kenny struggles to keep his eyes off Tweek’s slightly reddened lower lip, and Tweek struggles to keep a straight face, clearly aware of the situation.
“Y-Yeah, man.” Kenny improvises, caressing the back of his own neck. “I was kind of tired, anyways.”

Chapter Text

The party was going great, just  not for Tweek. 

He missed Kenny, and Bebe was too busy looking for her boyfriend to spare Tweek a second thought. Not that he’d blame her, anyways. Tweek knew all too well how much Bebe longed to be with her lover after a tiring, stressful function. 

It hadn't been all that terrible. He had enjoyed being onstage, just like he always did. Kenny was a good costar, even when he’s apparently possessed by some rabies-having possum or something and decides to bite people without any previous warning. 

The girls were also nice enough to let him join them in Wendy’s car, since Tweek was nowhere near getting a driver’s license. They had gossiped all the way, and sure, it got a bit on Tweek’s nerves.

But it was ok. Someone -probably Kenny, knowing how he is- even left some burn cream for his stupid little injury. Tweek didn’t even think anyone would notice.

Yeah, people in South Park were weird, but they were his people. He tried his best to mingle, to fit in.

Tweek spent more hours than he’d like to admit walking around, completely sober, trying to strike up conversation with once familiar faces. Some congratulated him for his performance, others asked about what had become of him after all these years, but none really managed to truly drown the uneasiness in his stomach.

His feet are already tired, and his head hurts from all the vibrant and flashing lights, when Tweek decides to give up. He silently heads to the balcony he spotted the second he got inside this wretched house. It looks quiet enough that he’ll manage to call a cab without ruining his throat.

That’s when he spots him. His figure cut against the bright moonlight, head buried in between his arms. The man’s back softly shook, and Tweek could tell he was crying even from their distance.

Against all his instincts, that are loudly screaming at him to retreat, to turn around and pretend he didn’t notice, Tweek approaches Craig with a  gentle smile.

He softly taps the raven haired man’s shoulder, trying to get his attention. 

“Craig? Are you alright?”

It takes a little while before Craig raises his head, and Tweek immediately realizes how watery his eyes are, how red his face looks, only partially obscured by his messy hair. He just silently stares at Tweek, almost as if he couldn’t believe he was there, as if he was trying to discover some fault in his appearance to prove himself the man in front of his eyes is nothing but a ghost, a cruel joke his own brain is paying on him.

Tweek sighs, sitting next to him. “Don’t tell me you still can’t handle your liquor…”

Craig doesn’t respond. Instead, he just drops his head again, completely ignoring his concerned ex boyfriend right by his side. Although Tweek knows he could be offended, he simply sighs, letting him do whatever, but never stepping away.

He eyes the busy room, just one door away, and still so far away. People’s faces are distorted by the light, but it still doesn’t take too long for Tweek to spot a familiar man in one corner, throwing up so hard he might as well get a Guiness Record. His girlfriend helplessly pats his back, not too sober herself. Looks like Clyde is out of the question here. 

“I’ll take you home.” Tweek says against his best judgment. “You still live with your parents, right?”

Craig grumbles something, and Tweek doesn’t even bother trying to understand. He’s probably cursing him up to his twelfth generation, anyways. 

“I’m taking that as a yes.” Tweek leans in, trying to help Craig stand up. He’s always looked bigger -the pros of not being addicted to meth, I guess- but Tweek is much stronger than he looks. It doesn’t take much effort to pick the black haired man up, putting his arm right beneath Craig’s to keep him upright.

Craig squirms around, though, almost making both of them trip. It pains Tweek’s heart, seeing how the man who once had trusted hinmn whole hartedly now resisted even the slightles of touches.

“Craig, I’m just getting you home. I promise.” He tries to reassure Craig, and for a second, he gets his ex’s attention. “I’ll go then. It’ll be like I was never here to begin with.”

He must’ve said something wrong, because Craig immediately begins sobbing again. It’s clear he’s trying to restrain himself, gritting his teeth to quiet his sobs. But it doesn’t work. Has it ever worked?
“Don’t.”
It’s a small voice. Barely audible, at that. A soft, broken whisper that’s almost meant to himself. Craig’s voice has never sounded this vulnerable, this pained, this naked. It almost makes Tweek feel guilty hearing it.

“Don’t leave me.” he continues, and the many feelings that cross his eyes make it clear that if the words are spilling out, it is without his consent. “Not again.”

Tweek takes a deep breath. It isn’t right to take advantage of Craig’s drunken state. He’d probably rather die than say these things while sober, and he’d definitely kill Tweek if he ever reminded him of this.

But he can’t do this. He can’t just ignore Craig, who had been a lighthouse for him through all these dark years. He can’t ignore the one man who’s been there with him through it all.

“I’m not leaving.” He tries his best to look him in the eye, despite the awkward position. Tweek hopes at least his tone is firm enough to reassure Craig. “Unless you want me to.”

It surprises Tweek a little. Still, it feels so natural. It feels… Nostalgic. Craig hugs him, a bit too tightly, putting his entire body weight on Tweek without a single care.

Craig reeks of alcohol and bad decisions. It isn’t nice, and it certainly isn’t how Tweek remembers him. But it’s been so long, who could blame him? Time hasn’t been kind on either of them, no matter how hard they might have tried. 

There’s something wet against his neck, and Tweek guesses Craig is crying. Awkwardly, but as gently as he can, almost as if Craig was made out of the thinnest of glasses, he caresses his back. 

Karen sits with her eyebrows slightly furrowed. She dangles her feet off the tall stool, looking away. Kenny hates these sort of moments, where he has to stop being the caring, gentle older brother and instead has to act like a father. Being strict is against his very nature, at least when it comes to his little sister, but Karen is already grown. 

“So, what’s going on?”

There’s only silence as a response. Karen opens her mouth for a second, but nothing comes out. Kenny can tell she’s gone slightly paler, and his heart sinks a bit into his stomach.

“I’m not angry, Karebear.” he sighs. “I just want to know what’s bothering you. Did kids at school say anything mean again?”

Karen shakes her head, and it sends a wave of relief through Kenny’s body. “So what is it, then? Were you lonely?”

Karen doesn’t answer straight away, and Kenny waits as patiently as he can, trying to hide how hurt he really feels.

Since when did Karen struggle so much to share her feelings with him? Had they grown distant at some point?

“It’s-It’s not that. Not exactly.” Karen starts explaining herself, playing with the sleeves of her sweater nervously. “I’ve been… Talking with Tricia.”

The guilt in her eyes says more than her words. 

“So this is about Tweek?” Kenny asks, his voice tired. It doesn’t seem to surprise him much. “We’ve talked about this before, Karen. I don’t know what Tricia told you about this, but it’s not going to happen. Just because I have a new friend, it doesn’t mean I’m going to…”

“I’m not jealous of Tweek. He’s nice.” She immediately interrupts. “It's… It’s not that. Tricia told me about Craig.”

Well, she didn’t need to. Everyone knows about Craig and Tweek. They used to be the town’s loveliest couple back in the day, and now they had turned into the juiciest gossip that people would spread around. He’s heard it all.

Some hope they’d be reunited. Others criticized Craig for his brashness. Another good bunch of them seemed to have heard of Tweek’s good relationship with Kenny, and that’s the kind of gossip Kenny had chosen to ignore. He had always wished it wouldn’t reach Karen. 

“They dated, but it was a long time ago.” Kenny states, his tone a bit more bitter than he’d like it to be. “The rest are just rumors.”

“That’s what I told Tricia!” his sister replies. “But, uhm. I… Last night, I… I talked with Tweek.”

“About the rumors?” Kenny tries to sound as understanding as he can, but anyone who has ever met him could be able to tell how uncomfortable he’s feeling. There’s plenty of things he’d prefer his sister not knowing.

She nods. “I just- Tricia’s brother was really sad…”

“I know, Karen. “ Kenny swallows hard. His sister is old enough to know these things, but she’s always been a naive girl. He’s not really sure how he should tackle these sorts of topics with her. “So, you talked to Tweek about Craig, right?”

She nods again. “I wanted to know. No, I needed to know.” Karen this time looks up at Kenny, and the pity in her eyes shocks the air out of her brother’s lungs. “You can’t do this to yourself, Kenny. Not again.”

He closes his eyes, breathing slowly. “It isn’t like that, Karen. Not this time. You don’t have to…”

“But I do! Kenny, Tweek is a lovely man. I like him a lot.” She cuts him off, and Kenny is not sure if he’s more uncomfortable because of the topic or proud because of the fluent way Karen’s expressing her opinion. “But he’s not yours.”

“I know.”
“That’s what you said last time! And you know how that ended.”

“This is nothing like last time.” Kenny defends himself, a little louder than he should’ve. He immediately sighs, letting his shoulders drop, rubbing his eyes in frustration. “Karen, I know what happened with Butters still bothers you, but I promise you, this is nothing like that.”

His sister seems a bit relieved, looking at him with her big bright eyes. But there’s clear concern, still reflected in her sweet little face. “Are you sure, Ken? It’s just… I don’t know. You two have been really close lately and I…”

“Listen, Karen. This is, uhm, kind of adult stuff, ok?” He tries to reassure her, clearly struggling to find appropriate words. “He’s my friend. He’s cute, though, so maybe you’ll see him around home more than the others. But that’s it.”

Karen immediately seems grossed out. “So you want to bone him?”

Kenny’s face immediately grows bright red, as he gesticulates a bit too much. “Karen, who on Earth taught you that?”

“I’m not a kid anymore!” She complains. “And I still don’t think it’s a good idea. You’ve always had a thing for blondes.”

"I haven't befriended Tweek because he's blond, Karen." Kenny sighs, wondering how he should word his next sentence. “You know how mum and dad sometimes did things with their friends in the backyard, right..?”

“You are not hanging out with that guy just because you feel bad our parents gave his parents meth.” Karen quickly interrupts. “You’d be banging the entire town then.”

Kenny seems outraged. “Who is teaching you this stuff?”

“You are!” She replies with a mischievous smile. “And Tricia. Maybe. A little bit.”

Kenny shakes his head a bit, but his eyes gleam with nothing but pride. The siblings only stand to keep themselves off each other for a couple more seconds, before Kenny engulfs his sister in a warm hug.

They’ve been close since forever, and Kenny has died more than once for her, even if Karen doesn’t quite remember. Trying to be mad at her feels so unnatural, he can’t keep up the serious façade for long. 

Tricia giggles, knowing all too well she can get away with practically everything, as Kenny ruffles her already messy hair. “Alright, missy. But you better not let your teacher know I taught you this, okay?”

Karen rolls her eyes. “I’m fourteen, Kenny. I’m supposed to know this stuff!”

“You were such an adorable little girl just yesterday, how can you say this?” Kenny pokes Karen’s cheek with a teasing smirk. “I bet soon enough you’ll be looking to get married and settle down… Will you make me an uncle?”

Karen breaks into a fit of laughter, the idea of leaving her brother so ridiculous it sounds like some bad joke.

Tweek has somehow managed to drag Craig to the Tucker’s front door. He’s stopped crying sometime along the way, but Tweek can still feel the slight quivering of his body against his own.
“Do you have your keys?” Tweek asks. It’s late enough that Craig’s parents would probably murder him if he were to wake them up.

Craig weakley nods, clumsily searching through his jean pockets. Tweek breathes deeply, trying to remain as patient as he can afford. After a good minute of searching, Craig finally hands Tweek the keys.
Mumbling a soft “thanks”, Tweek jams the keys in, opening the door and dragging his drunken ex in.

The lights are on. Thomas Tucker is standing there, in the doorway, looking about as inviting as he used to be when Craig and Tweek first started dating.

“What are you doing with my son?”

Fuck,
Fuck, fuck fuck fuck fuck.

Tweek feels sweat dripping off every inch of his skin, his heart beating like a wild horse. Craig tries to say something, but all that comes out is mumbly nonsense.
“I’m- I’m sorry, Mr. Tucker.” Tweek apologizes. “He was drunk, and-”
“You did this to him.” The tall, redheaded man incriminated him, and Tweek didn't have the strength to fight it. “You have no right to be here. Give me my son.”

Thomas tries prying Craig forcibly off Tweek’s arm, but the black haired young man holds onto his ex with almost superhuman strength. “Don’t leave.” His words are almost inaudible again, but even his father manages to hear him. Thomas Tucker  immediately shoots Tweek a glare so dirty Tweek’s sure he could drop dead there and then for all he cared.
“Craig, you’re home. You need to let go.” He tries to reassure the man who clings onto his shirt, pushing him away carefully. It doesn’t help, though, as Craig only hugs him tighter. “Your dad’s here.”

Craig hides his face in Tweek’s chest, ignoring the way his father tugs at his waist with increased strength. “Don’t leave. Don’t leave me again.”
It hurts. It hurts so much, in the depths of Tweek’s heart. And it must’ve hurt his father’s too, because he eventually lets loose. 

“We’ll talk later.” Mr. Tucker almost threatens. “You know where his bedroom is. Keep the door open.”

Tweek nods, struggling to bring Craig to his room, the drunken man still squirming, holding so tight Tweek fears he might just choke to death or something. 

The stairs at Craig’s house have never been so long. His door has never felt this heavy, this hard to open. But the inside of his bedroom hasn’t changed a bit.

The stars glued to the ceiling glow faintly, illuminating in their greenish light the space-themed posters, the notes and books spread there and here. Stripes greets Tweek with a cheerful little chirp, and Tweek wonders if it's the very same one they had once parented. She does look rather old.

Tweek tries to pry Craig off him, to lay him in bed, but it doesn’t work. He just keeps holding on, repeating the same sentence like it’s some sort of soul-saving mantra. Tweek ends up giving up, throwing himself on Craig’s half-made bed, and dragging his ex boyfriend with him. At least he's lying down, even if he hasn’t let go.

Craig breaks down crying again, trying to be quiet, now stubbornly wrapping his legs around Tweek’s torso.

They’ve never been like this. It’d usually be Tweek who seeked the comfort of Craig's body, it would normally be him who’d cry all through the night. Maybe that’s why he found himself so completely lost. So hopeless. 

What should he do? What should he say? 

It feels like anything Tweek could come up with would only hurt Craig even further. As if they were meant to hurt each other, no matter what, and they were just fools trying to avoid it.

He just let him cry. He’s not sure for how long, but not even Mr. Tucker dared cross the open doorway.  Craig barely had ever opened up to his best friend, Clyde, but this was in a completely different league. 

Some hours must’ve gone by, because Craig seems to have started sobering up, little by little. His eyes were bloodshot as ever, but his breathing had steadied a bit, and his grip wasn’t as strong. It was almost hesitant.
Tweek tenderly brushed a couple tears off Craig’s cheek. Why did it come so easy?

“Are you feeling better?” He asks, his voice sweet and mellow, and it just breaks Craig’s heart further. “Maybe I should get going.”
“No. Stay. Please.” Craig insists, and for a second Tweek wonders if he was wrong. Maybe he wasn’t doing better. “I… I have to do this now. I won’t have the strength when I’m sober.”

Tweek’s heart skips a beat. Ah. There he is. Still tipsy, sure, but there’s some sanity behind those beautiful deep  blue eyes. 

Tweek closes his own eyes for a second, trying to clear his mind. He’s laying on his childhood sweetheart’s bed, just like he had a hundred times before. He’s in his arms, clinging to him tightly, and he looks as beautiful as the day they parted. 

He hesitantly pushes back some of the black strands that obscure Craig’s face, taking his sweet time to look at him. Watery as they are, his sharp ocean eyes never lose their allure.

“Last time…” Craig mumbles. “Last time, I wasn’t fair to you. I… Pushed you away, because I was afraid.”

Tweek gently nods. “I know, Craig, and I don’t hold it against you. We talked about this with Kenny, didn’t we?”

Craig winces at the mention of Kenny’s name, almost as if Tweek was rubbing salt on an open wound of his. “No. We can’t… We need to do this. You and I. That’s it.”

Tweek opens his mouth to speak, but Craig quickly presses his hands against Tweek’s parted lips. The young blond doesn’t struggle, far too lost in Craig’s drunken beauty to say anything.

“I’m sore for that time at the hospital.” Craig says, and his voice breaks in the most beautiful way. He holds back tears as he can, the buzz of alcohol reddening his cheeks even more than the shame or the crying. “I’m sorry for what happened all these years ago. I’m sorry I haven't talked to you for weeks, and I’m sorry I didn’t apologize when I had the chance.”

Tweek struggles a bit, trying to gently remove Craig’s hand from his mouth, but the black haired man doesn’t budge, still desperately trying to get all those nasty feelings off his chest before soberness comes and takes away his brashness.

“I’m sorry I got so caught up in my pain I never saw yours. It must’ve sucked, being locked up all the way in California. God- It must’ve been fucking terrifying, to be surrounded by all those doctors and nurses, without your parents, without your friends. And I could’ve helped, but I didn’t. I didn’t back then, and I sure as hell am not helping now.” 

Craig seems to be content with his speech, as he lets go of Tweek, who looks at him with his big green eyes as if he was seeing a once in a lifetime kind of event. It kind of was, in a way. Craig had never been the sentimental type.

“I… I’m sorry too, Craig.” Tweek struggles to say. Unlike his ex boyfriend, he has no alcohol to ease his words, to numb the anger and the pain, but he does his best to keep going. “I should’ve done things better. I  was just- God, I was terrified. All these things were happening, and I didn’t know how to handle them! I- agh- I messed up. Big time.”

Craig quietly sobs, as he buries his face back into Tweek’s chest. This time, Tweek returns the embrace with almost as much strength, struggling to hold back as not to break the black haired man’s back.

“I’m sorry for just… Showing up like this, without a warning.” Tweek continues. “It mustn’t have been easy for you.”

Trying to steady his breathing, Craig shakes his head. “No, I’m glad you did. I’m glad you’re back.” He slurs his words a little bit, and Tweek wonders whether it's the alcohol or just the shame, slowly creeping even through Craig’s drunken haze. “I… I needed to see you again. I wasn’t expecting it- I didn’t- I didn’t respond the way I should have. But I missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too.” Tweek whispers, and it almost feels wrong. Like he shouldn’t me saying this, not to Craig. But this is the reason he came back to Barbate: To fix all the messes he had left behind. To face all the things he couldn’t face back then. “I was angry, too. And petty. Kind of trash talked you a lot, with my old camp buddies.”

Craig seems about to answer before Tweek interrupts him. “But, well, I did go to therapy. You didn’t get that privilege.”

There’s a prolonged silence, filled with nothing but firm glances and an occasional quiet sob. They both know therapy wasn’t a privilege. They both know things haven’t been easy for Tweek. But, even if it’s just for a second, both Craig and Tweek want to convince themselves there might be hope ahead.

“So… Four whole years? That’s a long time.”
“It is. It wasn’t easy.”

Craig rubs his watery eyes before speaking, as if trying to put together his bruised and shattered pride. “I.. I didn’t understand back then why your parents would do this. And I won’t pretend like I do now. It was awful.”

There’s very transparent resentment in his voice, and Tweek almost feels grateful for it. People often pity him, but Tweek wasn’t a sad little boy who’d cry himself to sleep.

He was fucking pissed. He was angry. He was outraged. Why? Why did he deserve this? Why did the people meant to nurse and protect him do this shit to him?

It surprises Tweek to feel something soft against his forehead. He wonders when Craig had left his tight embrace, tenderly kissing his forehead. The small gesture almost makes Tweek cry.

“You’ve grown a lot, Tweek.” Craig softly whispers, and Tweek can tell that the fog in his eyes is dissipating little by little. “I’m proud of you.”

Tweek smiles, nodding, ignoring the mixed feelings stabbing his chest. “It’s pretty nice. Being clean, I mean. My heart feels… a lot slower.”

There’s a couple more minutes of silence between the two of them. Tweek fears Craig might already be feeling too sober for any of this, and he wonders if he should go now. The black haired man doesn’t move his arms from his ex boyfriend’s waist, though, so that doesn’t look like a good option.

“I regret it every day.”

Silence. Tweek looks at Craig with a questioning look. “Regret what? Hitting me?”

“I mean- that too. You’re stronger than me, though. You could’ve blocked it.”

“Sorry I wasn’t expecting my ex boyfriend to hit me in the face without a previous warning!” Tweek replies, and immediately sighs. “Sorry. No. We shouldn’t do this.”

Against all of Tweek’s guesses, Craig lets go of a deep chuckle. His blue braces catch Tweek’s attention, and he soon finds himself smiling too. The more things change, the more they stay the same.

“So… What do you regret?” Tweek asks.

Craig softly caresses Tweek’s cheek, tracing his jaw slowly. He has a slender face, and there’s very little left of his baby fat, in contrast with Craig’s rounder look. It’s different- but it’s nice, in its own way. No matter how much he changes, Tweek will always be Tweek. And as long a Tweek exists, Craig will be there to love him.

“Letting you go.” Craig whispers. “There’s nothing I’ve regretted more in my life.”

Tweek feels his heart skip a beat, and his face runs hot.

There it is. That stupid, soft look that Craig always reserved for him and him alone. Half lidded eyes, a warm side smile. He looks like some lovestruck fool about to do the stupidest thing you can think of.

And he kind of did.

I mean, saying this kind of stuff to his ex? What was he thinking? He wasn’t drunk enough for this, that’s for sure. Even Craig started blushing in realization.

“Craig, I… We can’t pretend like nothing happened.” Tweek tries his best to let him down gently. “We can’t go back to how things were.”

“But-”
This time, it’s Tweek who presses his hand against Craig’s lips, with a gentle little smile.

“Shush, before you say any more things that you’ll regret tomorrow.” He softly says. “We can’t go back in time, Craig. But we can start over. We can be friends.”

Craig’s eyes water again, and the word ‘friends’ echoes in his brain like a bittersweet proof of his defeat.

Was it Kenny? Or was Craig just foolish, to hold onto a relationship that took place none other than in primary school? Was it so stupid to think Tweek could just forgive his sins, when he had hurt him so badly?

“I should get going.” Tweek sighs, taking his hand off Craig’s mouth and covering his own as he jawns. Craig wonders if that counts as an indirect kiss. “Your dad’s going to kick my ass.”

Craig faintly nods, trying to smile. It looks wrong, for someone so deadpan to showcast a fake smile at that- with so much sadness in his eyes. But Tweek pretends like he doesn’t notice, and it only breaks Craig’s heart even more.

“It’s ok. My mum still likes you, she won’t let him do anything.”

She's not the only one who still likes you, Craig thinks, but it stays at just a thought. He just lays there, quiet, trying his best to hold back his tears, alcohol barely managing to numb his pain. Trying to savor the last few minutes he knows he has left before Tweek leaves him alone with his thoughts and his remorse. 

Tweek clears his throat, already pulling away from Craig. As he’s already getting out of the bed, Craig reaches out for him, holding onto his shirt, stretching it slightly. Tweek wants to complain, but he’s soon met with Craig’s crystalline gaze, eyelashes fluttering, letting some runaway tears slide down his cheeks.

“Is it him?”

Tweek clenches his jaw. “It’s nobody, Craig.” His voice is a bit harsher than he’d like it to be. “I just want to make things right.”

“Then why did you kiss him?” Craig keeps questioning, raising to his knees, trying to pull Tweek in his direction. The young blond doesn’t flinch. 

“I didn't kiss him. You know how the script goes.” It was a half-lie, but Tweek didn’t want to give any more explanations than what he was due. “We pretended. It’s all acting.”

“No, you made the face.” Craig shakes his head as he speaks. “I would never forget that. You always… You always had that expression in your face, back then.”

The face Tweek made when they were about to kiss. The slight hesitation, the doubt, the ever so gentle quiver of his lips, green eyes focused on the other’s lips. On Craig’s lips. And, now on… Some other bozo’s. 

Craig could feel tears pooling in his eyes again, his stomach knotting in the most painful way. Tweek doesn’t answer, and that’s enough to confirm Craig’s worst fears.

“It’s not like that-”

Once again, Craig shakes his head, letting himself fall back down into the bed. “N-No, it’s fine. You don’t owe me any explain-”

“Shut up, Tucker.” Tweek rather brashly interrupts. The black haired man wonders if maybe he’s drunk enough he’s started to imagine things. “I don’t owe you anything, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to let you drown in your self pity.”

“I’m not-”
“Let me speak. I let you speak when you wanted to.”

Craig looks away, like a kid who just got told off.

“I appreciate what we had. And I’m sorry I broke your trust, and I’m sorry I broke your heart. I’d be lying if I said I’ve ever forgotten you.” Tweek struggles to say as calmly as he can. He’s already had this conversation a hundred times in his head, in his prolonged midnight chats with Kenny. But he never in his life would’ve thought he’d end up having it with Craig himself. “But I can’t live in the past. Neither of us can. We were children, Craig. You can’t keep acting like a jealous teenager, not when we broke up four whole years ago.”

Craig doesn’t have the strength to say anything, a mixture of shame and dejection brewing in his chest.

“What I do with Kenny is none of your business. What I do with anyone is none of your business.” Tweek continues. “But no. Kenny and I are friends. That’s it.”

There’s relief. There’s pain. It’s a strange mix, invading every cell in Craig’s body. Tweek isn’t dating someone else. Tweek isn’t dating someone else but he still won’t go out with him. Tweek is single. Tweek doesn’t want Craig anymore. 

He swallows hard, unable to find any more words. The warm and unexpected smile Tweek throws his way doesn’t help at all soothe the burning ache in his heart, quieting the sobs that leave his body.

“I know it won’t be easy. We have a long road ahead of us.” Tweek softly says. “But I believe in us, Craig. I believe in you. What we had back then is over, but… I’ve already lived five years away from you. I miss you, even if things aren’t the way they once were.”

Chapter Text

It’s awkward.

Kenny studies physics. Craig studies astrophysics. Of fucking course they’d share classes in this smalltown university. It’s a miracle they had like three specialized astrophysics teachers. 

They had shared classes for a while now, and there had never been any sort of issue. I mean, sure, they hadn’t  been on good terms since elementary school.  They were kind of friends once, and Kenny might or might not have been Craig’s first crush, long before he was even on speaking terms with Tweek. But they had fallen off a long time ago.

Craig convinced himself Kenny’s friends were a bunch of assholes. Kenny convinced himself Craig had better things to do than hang out with him anymore. And so, they just drifted away. They respected each other, they sometimes would greet each other. But that’s about it.

Now? Now it’s different.

Kenny has been feeling Craig staring holes at the back of his neck for over a week now. And sure, he understood. Kenny had been pretty much plaguing Tweek from the moment he came back to Barbate, and Craig had always been, well… Craig.

But honestly, did it have to go on like this? They had broken up four whole years ago, for fuck’s sake. At this point they've spent more time single than they did together. So what was all this drama about?

Kenny brings out his phone, making sure that Craig can get a good glance from where he’s standing, sitting right behind him. 

You: Hey

You: U still up for today?

Tweekers💛: yEa

Tweekers💛: Meet me @ Denny’s?
You: Nah dude, dw

You: I'll pick u up

You: I got the day off lol

Tweekers💛: do u?

Tweekers💛: I hope ur not asking buttrs to cover for u agani or smth

You: Shhhhhh

You: Did u already have lunch?

Tweekers💛: Yeah

Tweekers💛: u want some? I brought xtra

You: U know I do ;)

You: wanna come hang after this periods over?

Tweekers 💛: k!😊

Kenny lets down his phone. He doesn't need to look back to know that he’s got Craig’s full attention, all of the black haired man’s rage.

It’s fine, though. He’s always loved to stir things up, once in a while.  Kenny leans back on his chair, following the prissy professor with his eyes as he leaves the room.

Craig no longer has a reason to stay in this class. This is it, the only lecture they share, the only hour they see each other. But Kenny knows Craig’s going to take some time leaving this place. He’s probably too lost in thought to even realize the lecture is over anyways.

“He’s a good kid.” Kenny says, taking Craig by surprise. “He didn’t deserve what you did back then.”

Craig stays frozen, wondering if his mind is just playing tricks on him, if Kenny is really, actually, talking to him. Did he do it on purpose? The texts, the way he had stared into his eyes back in the theater. Did he get off annoying him, is that it?

“I know,” he answers, trying to keep himself together “maybe better than you do.”

Kenny laughs, already standing up from his seat and beginning to pick up his stuff. He doesn't even turn back. “Listen, my sister likes you. And you were a nice kid, back then…” The freckled man stretches, lazily, as he eyes the door. Tweek should be here soon. “I don’t have a say on whatever Tweek does. But I hope you know I’ll keep an eye on you.”

It’s just a second, but Kenny establishes eye contact, and mixed feelings invade every corner of Craig’s body.

Of course he used to have a crush on this guy. He’s got this wild charm to him, gaps in his bright smile, hair poorly cut, probably a victim to walmart scissors. Eyes so enchanting, so inviting.

But right now, Craig swears he’s never seen a more punchable face. 

“Don’t give me that look. I’m trying to be nice here.” Kenny continues, and his smile is almost teasing. “Just don’t let me catch you hurting him again. I take very good care of my friends, you see.”

Craig doesn't even get a chance to reply. Soon, a very recognizable head of bright blond hair makes its way inside the classroom, and Kenny doesn't miss a beat. They’re standing there, so damn close Craig could just reach out and touch them. But he doesn’t. Tweek hasn’t even realized he’s there and maybe that’s for the better.

They chat about something, and Craig doesn’t even manage to hear nor understand, Kenny’s words still echoing in his head. Whatever it is they talk about, it seems like Tweek and Kenny are inside their own little bubble, their own little world, where Craig doesn’t even have a right to exist.

He quietly leaves, trying his best to stay out of Tweek’s sight. If he hadn’t noticed him yet, it’s better to keep things this way. The last thing he needed was to be the third wheel to the one and only love of his life. 

“Was that..?”

“Yeah.” Kenny doesn’t need Tweek to continue to know what he’s talking about. “He comes over for the Physics lectures once in a while.”

Tweek smiles a bit, nostalgic. Craig had always been a bit of a nerd, and it’s not hard to imagine him studying physics, taking all those notes with his messy handwriting.

“He’s studying astrophysics.” Kenny points out, when he notices Tweek’s interest. He may not trust Craig, not after all the shit he said back at the hospital, but he does his best to keep Tweek happy. “Clever guy, if I do say so myself.”
Tweek smiles, but Kenny can tell in his eys that his friend is no longer there. Not in the way he should be. 

He remembers. All the times they’d lie with their backs in the grass, in Craig’s backyard, staring at the stars.

He had learnt Craig was an Aquarius. That was the constellation his father glued on his ceiling, and that’s the one he had taught Tweek by heart. They’d look up at those bright little dots, and Craig would point at them, reciting their names like it was poetry.

Aquarius wasn’t always out, so sometimes, Tweek would learn about a different constellation. Orion, Draco, Lyra, Aries...  None of those stars would ever outshine the ones forever trapped in Craig’s eyes. 

Kenny clears his throat, wrapping an arm around Tweek’s shoulders. “So, how was your morning? You look tired.”

Tweek rolls his eyes a bit, trying his best to leave his memories of Craig behind. “Yeah, my professor is not helping. I don’t understand anything- I mean, what on earth is percolation? I thouguht that was a music thing”

Kenny laughs, and Tweek guesses his question must’ve been silly for someone with a full-ride scholarship in physics.His lectures were probably a child’s play compared with Kenny’s, anyway. 

“I told you, I can help you with that.” Kenny shrugs, already walking out of the door with Tweek by his side. “Maybe over some cake. Your treat. You do owe me”

“I’m never making bets with you again.” Tweek says. “But yeah. That’d… That’d be nice, man. Thank you.”

“That’s what friends are for.” Kenny ruffles Tweek’s hair, ignoring the way some of the other students start staring at them. Let them gossip: who cares? “Also, if you have to retake the test in summer we won’t be able to hang.”

“I thought you were leaving with Stan and Kyle for the summer.” Tweek mentions. 

“Well, Eric  isn’t coming. And you know what they say: three’s a crowd.” There’s an awkwardness in Kenny’s tone that doesn't go unnoticed by Tweek. “Randy did offer to pay for my trip, though, so maybe I’ll go for a weekend or something, then return.”

“And have you told the guys about that?” Tweek asks. “Because I’m pretty sure I just saw Stan in the hallway talking about what a blas you’ll have.”

Kenny sighs. “They’re… Insistent. Kyle doesn’t want to be in charge of Stan anyways, and Stan knows it’ll be boring without me.”

Tweek eyes his friend for a bit, and isn’t surprised when he sees Kenny’s complicated expression. He’s clearly torn.

“If it’s about Karen, I can take care of her.” Tweek offers. “Your friends miss you. You deserve to have some fun of your own.”

“It’s not that- Both Randy and Gerald have offered to take care of her.” Kenny presses his lips together for a bit before continuing to speak. “It’s just… Stan and Kyle are best friends. I’d rather not… Y’know.”

“And you’re sure they aren’t bringing Cartman? I mean, he is an asshole, but they’ve been friends since, well… Forever.”

There it is. The darkness in Kenny's eyes whenever anyone mentions his best friend. “Eric isn’t doing great right now. People don’t… Approach him a lot.”

Tweek just nods. Eric Cartman had been enough of a menace as a kid, God knows what kind of monster had puberty turned him into. It doesn’t look like Kenny really wants to talk about it, either.

“So.. You said you had leftovers?”

Kenny smiles, eyeing Tweek as he searches through his messy backpack. “It’s just a couple sandwiches, so don’t get your hopes up.”

“Better than nothing” Kenny shrugs, eyes sparkling in delight when Tweek hands him a couple sandwiches. “God I could kiss you right now.”

Tweek laughs. “No, thanks. I think I had enough of that last time.”

“That wasn’t a kiss!” Kenny defends himself through a mouthful of white bread and tuna. “Doesn’t count.”

“Does that mean I won the bet?” The decaffeinated blond shoots right back, smiling, as they both make their way to the little staircase they had come to baptize as their spot. “I mean, you didn’t exactly pull away, but…”

“I feel like biting is a step above kissing, so technically, that means I win.” Kenny continues to speak while ravenously eating. Tweek wonders if he had breakfast this morning. “Unless you wanna give it another go?”

Tweek stares with a mix of horror and amusement as Kenny effectively downs both sandwiches in what must be a record-beating time. He’s glad, really. After all, he’s been packing extra food specially for his friend for a couple days now, knowing how Kenny would often skip lunch to save a couple more dollars. 

“Dude, did you eat the tinfoil too?” Tweek answers, smiling. “There’s no way I’m letting that nasty mouth anywhere near me.”

Kenny lets out a mocking gasp, holding his hand to his chest in an overdramatic gesture. “Excuse you, only one of us uses chapstick as far as I’m aware, and it sure as hell isn’t you.”

“That you stole from your last fling.” Tweek immediately points out. “I’m not sure she’s happy about that one.”

Kenny shrugs. “Well, who cares? I’m pretty sure she stole my lighter anyways.”

Tweek giggles, shaking his head. “You’re impossible, man.”

As they slowly reach the staircase amidst laughs and knowing smiles, they set down on the rough concrete steps, ignoring the half empty cans lying there and overlooking the bustling halls of the university. 

Kenny stretches his lanky limbs over the staircase, and Tweek takes a sip out of his water bottle. 

“So… Percolation, huh?” He takes a deep breath. “It’s a fancy name, but trust me dude, it’s easy. It’s just kind of like.. I don’t know. A fancy way of saying ‘spreading’”

Tweek arches an eyebrow, clearly not too content with his friend’s explanation. Didn't he just say he'd explain over cake, later on?  Was Kenny that eager to talk about his major? “I don’t think I’m following.”

Kenny sighs, having to remind himself that Tweek’s education was pretty messy. “Do you have water?” The pale blond nods, immediately handling his friend his water bottle. “Thanks. So… Look.”

Kenny lets a couple drops of water fall onto the dry cement beneath them. It turns a darker shade of gray when in contact with the liquid, beautiful shapes forming as the material absorbs the water. Tweek had never paid much attention to that.

“So that… Is percolation. “ Kenny continues explaining. “Something flowing inside a chaotic material. Like a sponge absorbing water, or the smoke mixing with bong water.”

“I don’t think I’ve heard you say the word ‘water’ more times in my life.” Tweek teases, taking back his bottle. “So, that’s it? Just… Absorption?”

Kenny laughs, leaning back. “No. Not quite.” He points out at some poor girl through the hallway. “See that girl? She’s got a nasty case of genital herpes.”

Tweek immediately cringes. “I did not need to know that-”

“That dude over there gave them to her, I’m pretty sure.” Kenny continues, ignoring Tweek’s protests. “And he probably got it from the girl he cheated with a week ago.”

“I thought you didn’t like gossip.”

Kenny shrugs. “I still have ears. But that’s not what you should be focusing on, dude.” He shakes his head. “The spread of that herpes? That, too, is percolation.”

“So it isn’t just materials?”

“It’s a pretty wide concept.” Kenny continues. “The way electricity spreads through materials is also percolation.”

Tweek nods, finally starting to understand this concept -or, at least, he kind of thinks he is-. But more than anything, he’s kind of captivated by the sparkle in Kenny’s eyes as he explains. It’s nice to see a different side of him, once in a while. Kenny’s always full of surprises.

“So percolation is all about… Things mixing, and interacting with other things, right?” Tweek asks, a speck of doubt in his voice. Kenny nods. “Is love percolation?

The freckled man next to him gives out a hearty laugh, mouth fully open, head thrown back. “That’s a bit of a stretch.”  He answers. “Syphilis is percolation. Gonorrhea is percolation. VIH is percolation.”
Tweek rolls his eyes. “Aren’t you just the sweetest, McCormick.”

Kenny playfully nudges his friend, a sly smile on his face. “Well, I’m trying to be a good teacher, y’know?” 

“Sure you are.” 

Kenny giggles again, looking somewhere in the distance. Tweek takes the chance to stare at his face. His straight nose, his freckles, his pierced ears.

“Love is a chemical reaction and a load of societal pressure.” Kenny continues, against all odds. Tweek is pretty sure he’s been caught staring. “Gossip, on the other hand, is percolation.”

“Man, percolation kind of sucks.”

Kenny shrugs. “I like gossip, sometimes. Especially when it doesn’t involve me.”

Tweek sighs. He knows there’s a lot of gossip about him lately, all across town. Some people must’ve spotted him carrying Craig home last time, and rumors about them getting back together have spread like wildfire. At this point, it seemed like the entirety of South Park was trying to force their way into Tweek’s private life. Was it Kenny? Was it Craig? Who was South Park’s number one pitiful kid doing?

At this rate, Tweek could feel himself go crazy.  

“Well,” he argues, “I think rumors suck.”

“Is the idea of going out with me that repulsive?”

Tweek is shocked for a couple seconds before he laughs, knowing all too well that Kenny’s just trying to distract him.  “I don’t want a reputation for dating guys who feed off aluminum foil.”

Kenny pretends to be offended once more, but soon falls into a comfortable, reflective silence.

“Yeah, I guess it must suck for you”, he replies with a sympathetic tone. “I mean, you just got back and now all these people are making up shit about you.”

Tweek nods, clearly frustrated. Enough that he doesn’t even pay attention to Kenny looking for something in his backpack. “That’s it! I mean, sure. I was gone for a long time, I understand some people are going to be curious about me.” He complains. “But they just won’t stop twisting every little thing I do, making assumptions about how I feel, how I act, how I think- it’s just… Agh!”

“Yeah, it must suck ass,” Kenny nods, handing him a small object that Tweek recognizes immediately. Now he’s kind of sad he didn’t get to watch Kenny roll it. 

“Exactly!” Tweek exclaims, ceasing his animated hand gestures to allow Kenny to light his blunt. “At least when the rumors were all about you, I felt a bit more at ease.”

“You did?” Kenny raises an eyebrow, with the most shit-eating grin Tweek has ever seen.
“I mean, yeah. I’m pretty sure you’ve gone out with so many people, it’s not going to be big news or anything.” Tweek shrugs. “No offense.”

“No offense taken.”

“Yeah, but Craig?” Tweek takes a long drag before continuing to speak. He needs it. “That’s how we started dating, remember? To please the town. I refuse to let South Park decide my lovelife for me any longer.”

Kenny nods, watching as smoke leaves Tweek’s mouth as he speaks, forming flowy patterns in the air. Like a majestic serpent, dancing in suspension right before his eyes.

“Is this percolation?” Tweek asks. Kenny nods. “I wished my interactive lessons were a bit more like this.”

“I mean, I’m always here if you need help with your lessons.” Kenny reaches out, placing a comforting hand on Tweek’s shoulder. “Or with anything. I bet I could shut down a couple rumors, if you’d like me to.”

Tweek stares at the glowing ember in between his fingers. It twinkles with the cold air, vomiting more of its milky breath. He hands it to Kenny, who gladly takes it “It’s fine, dude. I should… Learn to live with it. It’s not like all rumors will die down suddenly, right?

Kenny breathes in the intoxicating smoke, closing his eyes briefly to enjoy the tingling sensation. “I guess.”

Silence establishes itself in between the two friends, as they pass the blunt back and forth, the unspoken decision of skipping any lectures after this being nothing new. Tweek needs the break, he needs to calm his nerves, and Kenny can’t deny there’s little in this life he enjoys more than staring at the pale man when he smokes.

It’s so majestic, and yet so delicate. The way his green eyes reflect the reddish ember. His messy blond locks shaking in the air. His slender fingers, bringing the carefully crafted blunt to his lips.

Oh.

He shouldn’t stare there.

Kenny immediately looks away, trying to smile his shame away. At least he hopes Tweek hasn’t realized anything.

He tries to focus on the almost distant sound of the university, busy students here and there, professors giving lectures behind closed doors, janitors complaining about the recently mopped floor.

“Hey, dude,” Kenny speaks up, breaking the silence. Tweek looks at him with reddish eyes. “You know what else is percolation?”

Tweek raises an eyebrow, with a curious look in his eyes. “What is?”

Kenny breathes out smoke in Tweek’s direction with a smile, giggling a bit as Tweek wordlessly complains, closing his already watery eyes. “Laughter.”

“Laughter? Who are you, Twilight Sparkle?”

The lanky man beside him laughs, passing Tweek the blunt once again. “I mean it, dude! Especially yours.” He tenderly stares at Tweek, glossy eyes making him look somehow even more beautiful than usual. “You’ve got a contagious laugh, Tweekers.”

“You’re the first person ever to say that, weirdo.” Tweek says, but his smirk can not be hidden. “Are you trying to hit on me or something?”

Kenny immediately smirks, and the playful glint in his eyes is oh so obvious, it makes Tweek’s stomach do a flip. “I’m just saying… That laugh of yours could drive more men to war than any hymn.”

Tweek rolls his eyes, ignoring the roaring red creeping through his face. “Are you really trying to sweet-talk your way into more sandwiches?”

Kenny gasps, dramatically staring at Tweek with wide eyes. “How dare you accuse me of such treachery…” He immediately breaks into a smile. “Is it working, though?”

The shorter man giggles a bit. “I didn’t know you’d fall this low, McCormick.”

“What do you mean ‘low’?” Ken asks, still overdramatic as always. “I’m just a man of culture, dude. A sandwich connoisseur, if you will. It takes a lot of effort to appreciate the artistry of your culinary creations, you know?”

Tweek snorts, passing the blunt back to Kenny. “They are just sandwiches, dude. Bread and whatever you have lying in your pantry, it’s not that hard.”

Kenny takes a deep puff, blowing the smoke on Tweekk’s face again. “How dare you. These sandwiches, my dear Tweek, are a masterpiece. The flavors mix together, dancing in perfect sync, telling a hundred different tales of love and betrayal.”

Tweek bursts into laughter, and Kenny’s heart freezes for a second. It truly is beautiful. “You’re outrageous, dude, what the hell.”

“Outrageous. That’s a big word.” Kenny mocks him. “Personally, I’d like to say I’m more like… Delightfully unpredictable.”

Tweek rolls his eyes, chuckling, and the sound carries as much fondness as it does exasperation. “That’s an understatement.”

Kenny leans in closer, and Tweek can feel his heart beating faster. There’s an unmistakable playfulness in his friend’s eyes. “That’s what you like about me, though. I balance you out.”
“You do?”

“You think too much.” Kenny continues. “Life’s too short for that. We need to embrace the unexpected, let our hair down, and smile in the face of danger. Enjoy the wild ride, if you will.” 

“You really went from Twilight Sparkle to inspiring quotes in a facebook mom’s blog, huh?” Tweek teases. “What else do you have in stock for me?”

“I make a mean grandmother impression. I’m a man of many talents, you know?” Kenny shrugs, and Tweek finds himself forgetting the already almost burnt out blunt. “Wanna see?”

“Sure. Hit me with your best shot, Ken.”

Kenny clears his throat, with a mischievous smile. “Do you smoke pot?” Tweek just arches an eyebrow. “Because weed look cute together.”

Tweek laughs again, and Kenny swears he’d give his soul away just to store that sound in a jar to carry around. “That was fucking awful, dude.”

“Yeah? Like you can do any better, dude.”

Kenny’s teasing smiley makes Tweek nervous for a couple seconds, but the comfortable buzz of weed gives the shorter man the confidence he needs to face the challenge. “Are you Jean Claude Van Damme? Because,  Damme, you’re hot.”

Kenny laughs again, holding his stomach. “Who on Earth is that guy?”

“You don’t know Jean Claude Van Damme? Dude!” Tweek exclaims, blushing from head to toe. “You know, the guy from Bloodsport? Universal soldier?”

Kenny keeps smiling. “Dude, you’re such a nerd.” He teases. “That pickup line sucked major ass.”

“You’re just uncultured.”

“If that’s how it’s going to be…” Kenny retaliates. “I might be a physics major, but I'm no Bohr in bed.”

He did not just say that. Tweek laughs a bit under his breath.

“Are you a boxer?” Tweek continues. “Because you’re a knock-out.”

Kenny rolls his eyes. “Monothematic. Boring. We just had a physics lesson and you’re thinking about random dudes and boxing?”

“You’re so picky. Your first attempt wasn't even about physics.” Tweek complains, but he keeps his amused smile. “So… Are you a centripetal force? Because you spin my world around.”

“That’s what I’m talking about!”

And just like that, hours go by, amidst shitty pickup lines and playful banter. Tweek’s pretty sure he hasn’t laughed this hard in years, and Kenny would swear he’s never felt so seen in his entire life. Engulfed in smoke, something seems to flower in the pits of their stomach, in the center of their souls. A sweet, sweet melody. A honey-like substance that percolates their hearts.

Chapter Text

After a brief stop to pick Karen up from her highschool to drop her at home so she could get her daily homework done, Kenny and Tweek are already headed to the bakery Kenny had recommended.

It’s the middle of the afternoon, and the streets of South Park are bustling, as Kenny and Tweek leave the now non-stinking truck. Soon,  the smell of freshly baked goods surrounds them.

“Smells nice.” Tweek comments, ignoring the nostalgic tug in his heart. It’s not different from how his parent’s coffee shop used to smell like. “Is that the place?”

Tweek points out at a small building, painted in an obnoxious pastel pink. It could easily be mistaken for just a house, if it wasn’t for the small ‘open’ sign in its door.

Kenny shrugs, already walking inside. “Don’t judge a book by its cover. I’ve heard this stuff is good.”

Tweek just nods, following closely. It’s not like he’d be the one eating here, anyways, so who cares? So long as Kenny enjoys himself and stops bothering him about bets and debts, he’ll be happy. 

They take a seat near a window, the sunlight hitting Kenny’s hair just the right way- then again, does it ever not? At this point Tweek isn’t even surprised by it. Or maybe he’s still high. Who knows? Who cares?

“You ok, dude?” Kenny asks “You’ve been kind of spacey since you got out of the car. Bad trip?”

Tweek shakes his head. “Nah, dude. It’s been nice, hanging with you and all.”

Kenny smiles, and God does his smile do something to Tweek’s guts. “I’m glad. Because you are treating me.”

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s get this over with.” Tweek rolls his eyes with feigned annoyance. “And remember to get something to-go for Karen.“

Kenny chuckles a bit. “I thought you were all about that healthy lifestyle.”

Tweek blushes a little. Did he come off as too pushy when he made dinner that one time? Had he become one of those annoying almond mums? “I-I just…”

Soon, Kenny reaches out to him, patting his head. “It’s fine, dude. I’m thankful you take such good care of my sister.”

Tweek sighs in relief, closing his eyes, the warm feeling spreading through his head. When did he depend so much on Kenny’s gentle touch? Since when did he crave his affection so badly?

“Well, Karen’s a nice girl. She deserves nice things.” He mumbled, his voice laced with nothing but sincerity. “You too, dude.”

Kenny laughs. “Don’t get all sappy on me, Tweekers. You’re making this look like an actual date.”

Tweek blushes furiously, eyes widening like two moons in the middle of his face. “S-Says you! Can you even keep your hands to yourself?”

“I don’t know,” Kenny shrugs. “Can I?”

He doesn’t move his hands, fingers still lingering in Tweek’s messy hair. The paler man panics, but the server soon arrives like some heaven-sent miracle, smiling their way.

“Good afternoon, gentlemen.” She cheers, adjusting her beautiful auburn hair beneath her shoulder. “May I take your order?”

Knowing all too well how Tweek struggles talking in situations such as this, Kenny immediately intervenes, an easy smile on his lips. “Well, we’re not too sure what we should order, right, Tweek?” The shorter man nods. “What would you recommend?”

The young lady keeps smiling, now leaning against the table. There’s something about the way she is eyeing both men that sends chills up Tweek’s back. “Well, today’s recommendation would be the cinnamon rolls. They’re quite popular around here, but we still have a couple in stock.”

Kenny’s entire face immediately lights up. “That sounds great! We’ll take two.” He shares a quick glance with Tweek, who just nods. Sure, Kenny had been pretty annoying all day, but he did deserve to treat himself once in a while, and it’s not like pastries would send Tweek into debt. 

The shorter man clears his throat. “Please add some extra pastries, miss.” Tweek smiles, gently, and good lord he’s so angelic Kenny feels like he’s dying again. “We’ll trust your taste.”

The young waitress nods, jotting down their order. “Alright, got it! And would you like anything to drink?”

Tweek sends a distressed glare Kenny’s way, clearly not wanting to socialize any more than what was strictly necessary.

“I’ll take… A cappuccino?” That sounds fancy, Kenny thinks. He’s never really tried it. He then looks at Tweek. “Would you like some tea?”

The smaller man shakes his head, with an awkward smile. “N-No, I’m fine. Thanks.”

Kenny shares an apologetic smile. Of course Tweek would struggle being here, with all the memories from his parents' abuse. It was a shitty idea to begin with, but how could he take it back now? It’s far too late.

The waitress however doesn't lose her smile, instead smiling gently at Tweek. “Are you sure, sir? We’ve also got a variety of juices, if you’re interested.”

“It’s-It’s fine. Really.” Tweek struggles to say, his hands running cold from anxiety. Where did his comfortable high go? “You’re too nice.”

“I live to please.” The lady replies, and Tweek tries his best to convince himself it’s just his imagination, and she certainly didn’t use a weird tone when she spoke to him.

Kenny just smirks, as she walks away, leaning in and resting his chin on his hand.

“Didn’t know you had it in you, Tweakers.”
“Shut up, McCormick” Tweek mumbles back, feeling his cheeks burn. “Don’t make me regret this.”

The freckled man raises his hands in the air, jokingly. “Yessir.”

It doesn’t take long before the waitress comes back, a tray full of sweet treats and Kenny’s smoking hot capuccino.

“Here you go, gentlemen.” She grins, bending down a little bit. Kenny’s eyes wonder for a second to her bosom, bot Tweek doesn’t even seem to realize what she’s doing. “Enjoy your food!”

Her eyes, a beautiful shade of dark blue, linger on Tweek’s for a moment more than necessary. 

They look just like Craig’s, he thinks, immediately blushing. Kenny seems to notice how his friend fumbles with the silverware, and with a suave smirk he decides to intervene. “Thank you, ma’am.”

“Of course, sweetheart.” She replies, a bit uncomfortable. Had she misinterpreted the situation? Was this some date? “Just holler if you need me.”

The waitress awkwardly goes away, and Tweek visibly deflates, anxiety abandoning his jittery body, soon returning to normal. Or, well, as normal as Tweek could get.

Kenny stares deep into his eyes, and the rosy, glassy look he still has after today’s smoking session, gives him a special sort of charm. “Looks like someone’s got a fan, huh?”

“Shut up, McCormick” Tweek doesn’t seem too amused by this situation, a slight pout in his lips. “I thought all of South Park knew I was gay by now.”

“It’s not such an small town, dude. And most people here haven’t seen you in half a decade.” Kenny shrugs. “Poor girl thought she had a chance and she shot her shot. Can’t say I blame her, though. You are quite the catch.”

Tweek ignores the way his heart skips a beat, rolling his eyes, exasperated. “You are having far too much fun with this.”

Kenny simply winks, already digging in, taking a piece from a cinnamon roll with the delicacy of a caveman. “You still love me, though.”

Tweek decides to ignore his friend’s comment, quietly staring as Kenny stuffed his face with pastries.

He has no manners, but it’s cute, in its own way. Again, that’s Kenny’s entire charm, right? Being a mess, but an endearing one. He’s a disaster, sure, but the kind of disaster you actively want to destroy you. Or maybe that’s a Tweek thing. Should he reach out to his therapist about this, too?

 It takes the taller man a couple seconds to realize something is odd, something is out of place.

“You’re not eating?”

Tweek looks away, visible uncomfortable. It was time he told Kenny, anyways. “Sorry, it just… It’s hard for me, to, uhm…” He swallows hard. “To eat or drink stuff other people make. You know, with all that happened with my parents and all…”

Ah.

So that’s why he brought all those bottles to Token’s place. Or why Tweek always brought his own lunch, and never went to the University’s canteen. Why didn’t he realize it earlier? Kenny feels like an idiot. 

“Oh, dude I- I’m sorry. And I brought you here, I’m such an idiot-”

Tweek gently shakes his head. “Nah, man, don’t worry. It’s a nice place, I am enjoying myself.”

Kenny looks down for a little, looking guilty. Soon enough, though, a memory crosses his mind. “You tried the hot chocolate I gave you, though.”

There’s a bittersweet smile on Tweek’s lips that for a second throws Kenny off, but the blush on his cheeks sort of reassures him. “Yeah. You are different?”

“So you trust me?”

“I trust your guilt.” Tweek’s tone is rash, but completely sincere. A bit too much, even. “I’ve seen it, the way you look at me sometimes.”

“Tweek, I don’t-”
“I know that’s not the whole reason you hang out with me, don’t worry.” He reassures his friend, still smiling as warmly as he can afford to. “But it’s the reason you’d never hurt me. Your conscience wouldn’t put up with it.”

Kenny looks away, silently, suddenly not that invested in the food. It’s uncomfortable, feeling this transparent, this exposed. When was the last time someone figured him out this easily? It almost felt insulting.

Tweek just sighs. Maybe it’s time to come clean. 

“I know you were the one who snitched on my parents.”

Oh.

Oh hell no. How did he know? Does this mean Tweek had been secretly hating him all along? Is this some intricate plan to poison him? Fuck, that’s a painful way to go. Maybe he should kill himself before the poison takes effect. Maybe he should-

“Dude. I don’t care.” Tweek says, and Kenny wonders when did the shorter man get a hold of his shoulders, staring deep into his panicking eyes. “If anything, I’m grateful. You did pretty much save my life.”

Kenny swallows hard. “I ruined your life, Tweek. I’m the reason they sent you away-”

“My parents were giving me laced coffee, Kenny. You know what that shit does to your system when you’re a kid?” Tweek explains, pain obvious in his expression. “If you hadn’t done what you did, I probably wouldn’t be here. You were my hero, Kenny.”

There’s an uncomfortable silence between the two of them. Kenny had carried the guilt in his heart for five years. He thought he was responsible for all of Tweek’s issues, that he was the actual, secret villain in his story. And now Tweek was… Grateful?

It didn’t make any sense.

“At first I didn't understand why you were acting like that, but then I guessed… You probably were blaming yourself.” Tweek shrugs, still smiling. “It was probably a shitty move to keep quiet until now, but I… I guess I didn’t really know how to tell you.”

Kenny sighs, awkwardly, unable to meet his friend’s gaze. “I… I understand you. It’s fine.” He clears his throat, trying to regain his composure. “So… You trust me, right?”

Tweek nods. “Yeah. I mean, you wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to your sandwich dealer, right?”

Tweek’s poor attempt at humor does bring a warm smile to Kenny’s lips, who finally looks his way again, shoving the half-eaten cinnamon roll his way. “Well, I’ve tried this one, and I’m not tripping balls or foaming at the mouth, so… Wanna give it a try?”

There’s clear apprehension in Tweek’s gesture, but, taking a deep breath, he does reach out to take a piece of the pastry, making direct eye contact with Kenny.

“If anything happens, you are not getting out of here alive.”

“Try it.” Kenny insists, his smile more natural now. “It’s nice, I think you’ll like the glaze.”

Tweek sighs before biting in, and soon the sweet and familiar taste of cinnamon floods his senses. He can’t help but close his eyes for an instant, and Kenny swears he can see his friend ascending right before his eyes.

“Dude, this is great!”
“I told you this is a nice place.” Kenny shrugs. “When have I ever failed you?”

They exchange a wordless knowing glance. Tweek has always been too paranoid to eat anything he himself hadn’t cooked, especially since he left the camp. It was nice to find a loophole in his paranoia. And it was especially nice to have found it alongside Kenny of all people. 

Kenny takes a brief sip of his cappuccino, the foam forming a dumb mustache on his upper lip. “So, dude… If you were a pastry, what would you be?”

The shorter man raises an eyebrow, reaching out to wipe his friend’s face with a paper napkin. “Are we playing twenty questions now?”

“C’mon, indulge me.” Kenny pleads, batting his eyelashes dramatically. “Please?”

Tweek rolls his eyes, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “I don’t know… Probably crumble pie or something.” He takes another small bite of the cinnamon roll and silently swallows. “A bit messy, a bit all over the place.”

The man in front of him chuckles a little, clearly amused by his answer. “Well, I guess it fits you. Nice, sweet and homey. “

“Alright, now it’s your turn.” Tweek quickly deflects Kenny’s words, clearly uncomfortable with the attention he’s receiving. “What pastry would you be?” 

“Tough question…” Kenny lies back, with a pensative look in his face that definitely lasts way shorter than it should’ve, being replaced with a blinding smirk. “But probably something like… I don’t know. A lava cake? Or those fancy liquor-filled chocolates. Do you think they count as pastries?”

“Technically speaking, chocolates aren’t pastries.” Tweek points out, clearly not having lost all the knowledge he had soaked up at his parent’s coffee shop. “But we can let it slide.”

“Thanks, chief.” Kenny mockingly replies. 

“So, why would you pick that? Are they your favorite or something?”

Kenny shakes his head, still smirking, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “No. But they’re just irresistible. Dark. Full of surprises. A bit naughty.”

Tweek chuckles. “Woah, edgelord, calm down. What are you, twelve?”

“Rude.” Kenny protest, as he shoves a plate with another half-eaten pastry Tweek’s way. “You should try this one too, it’s pretty good.”

Tweek nods, grateful, already taking a bite. This time, however, he grimances a bit. “Too much yeast- you can have this one.”

“Really? Tastes good to me.” Kenny shrugs, taking the pastry back and stopping himself from making any unhygienic jokes. “You know, I was thinking… If you were a pastry, I don’t think you’d actually be a crumble pie.”

“Oh? And what would I be?”

“A cutie pi-”
Kenny doesn’t get to finish the sentence, before Tweek stuffs the pastry he had just given back right into his mouth.

“Don’t. You. Dare.” He slowly threatens. “We did enough pickup lines earlier today for an entire month.”

Kenny wordlessly and without any struggle chews the pastry, and Tweek tries to not think about how his lips just touched the tips of his fingers, as he puts his hand away. Something about the smug look on Kenny’s face lets Tweek know he definitely did it on purpose, though.

“You’re such a killjoy, Tweekers.”

“Trust me, dude, I’m doing us both a favor.” He shakes his head a bit. “I think we’ve embarrassed ourselves enough already.”

Kenny swallows the pastry, shoving the crumbs off his face with the back of his hand. “Excuse you, my lines are golden.”

Now it’s Tweek’s time to sport a playful smirk. “Oh, they’re something, alright. Just not sure if ‘golden’ is the right term here.”

“I am not hearing this from you, not after that shitty boxing pickup line.”

Tweek shrugs. “Don’t people like boxers? At least more than they like Physicists, I mean.”

Well, he doesn’t really know -or care- about what people like. But Kenny sure as hell liked boxers. Or at least, one boxer in particular.

Tweek didn’t look like much. He had a dry body, almost. You could tell something was slightly off about him, as if he was sick, or maybe his complexion was just… Well. Off. 

But it was so beautiful. The way he had seen Tweek go absolutely berserk when fighting Craig, the way his destructive anger would take a hold of his sickly looking body and turn him into some wild creature ready to rip someone’s head off.

As time had gone by, Kenny kept remembering that day with less and less concern and with a little bit more pride. 

“Well, I guess boxers do have some appeal.” Kenny concedes. “Maybe I should take up boxing, then. I could definitely gain some muscle.”

“I think you’re fine like this.” Tweek shrugs, blushing in realization a couple seconds after the words had already left his lips. “I mean- agh- Girls are like… All over you already!”

Kenny decides to let the topic go, for the safety of his own health. “Yeah, I do get a lot more action than you do, mr boxer.” He points out, before taking a look at the coffee mug that lays in front of him. Kenny hesitates a bit. “Uhm, I get it if it’s too much but… Would you like to try the cappuccino? Again, didn’t make me trip balls, so it’s meth-free certified.”

Tweek hesitates.

He hasn’t tried coffee in a long, long time. Ever since his father brewed him that last cup, not knowing it’d be the last one, not knowing how much Tweek would miss the taste.

He knows what he was addicted to was the meth. In comparison with the drug, the caffeine was basically harmless. It’s not coffee he was addicted to- and yet he always hesitates so much to drink it again.

It’s been five years. Five years where Tweek has cowered in front of the dark, brownish liquid, fearing his past would haunt him. Five years of letting his fear make decisions for him.

Tweek takes a deep breath, taking the cup. “Thanks.” he says, as he takes a quick sip.

It’s smoky. Pungent. A bit thicker and oilier than Tweek knows it should be, and yet with a weighty and full body. It’s a bit overwhelming, given that this is meant to be a cappuccino. The texture is off too- the entire point of this type of coffee is the creamy sensation of the foam, the contrast in between the milk and the expresso. A rich and intense experience paired with the silky milk. This is more like… A foamy over roasted late. It’s a good bean, though. They just probably hired a college student as a barista and paid them the bare minimum. 

“It had been a while.” Tweek mumbles, smiling, taking in the smell before handing it to Kenny. “Thank you. I feel a bit braver, when you’re here.”

“Keep it” Kenny shrugs, handing it right back. “I don’t really like coffee, anyways.”

“You just haven’t tried the right one yet.”

Kenny cringes slightly. “You know, I hate that line. Is this what all of you homosexuals feel like when you’re hit on by straight people?”

The shorter blond lets go of an exasperated sigh. “No, dude, I mean this. Coffee’s more versatile than you’d think. I bet I can find one type you’ll enjoy.”

Kenny’s face lights up the moment he hears the word ‘bet’, and Tweek knows he’s already got the freckled man on the palm of his hand.

´

It fucking sucks.

The walls around him are all filled with memories of gentler times. The stars in his ceiling seem to mock him, reminding him of all those nights of stargazing and sneaking out. Aquarius. Orion. Draco. Lyra. Aries...

He never even liked coffee. Craig was a tea kind of guy, raised by a tea kind of family. Coffee was bitter, coffee was unhealthy- But he loved when he could taste it on Tweek’s lips. He loved when he could smell it on all the shirts and hoodies they had shared.

There’s no remnant of that smell. Tweek no longer smells like coffee, and his room no longer smells like Tweek. The young blond boy who would wake him up screaming, the same boy who  tried to fix a universal nuclear crisis with his baking skills, he was no longer anything other than a memory.

No, that’s not true. Craig knows it isn’t. But reality is way harder to face. 

The way Tweek had smiled at him, the way he had tried to talk things through, the slight ticks that still showed up whenever he was nervous. Tweek was alive, Tweek hadn’t gone anywhere. He just… Didn’t love him anymore.

And why on Earth would he? They’ve been apart for so long. It’s a miracle he didn’t laugh in his face, it’s a miracle he doesn’t hate his guts. He should be happy Tweek even speaks to him. 

Craig’s phone won’t stop buzzing. He’s used to it at this point. Clyde always thinks that the best way to cure heartbreak is to go out- to have fun. But it just… It just doesn’t feel right.

How can he pretend like nothing is wrong?

He had lost the love of his life once. And now he had lost him again.

Why the hell did he have to get drunk? Why did Tweek, out of all people, have to find him? Why did he have to say all that stupid bullshit?  Why did he have to open up, just to get hurt?

Someone knocks at the door.

“Get out, dad! I don’t wanna hear anything from you!”

“It’s me, dumbass.” Tricia replies, already opening the door. The light that comes from the hallway is almost blinding. She scrunches up her nose. “Woah, your room fucking stinks dude.”

Craig immediately shows his little sister his middle finger. “Shut up, Ruby. What the hell do you want?”

She looks around, taking in the sight of a couple emptied bottles, some tissues laying around. Somebody clearly hasn’t been doing their laundry, either. The young teen doesn’t seem surprised. 

“Mom and dad are concerned about you, you know? Even grandma has been calling.”

Craig looks away, ashamed. “It’s not easy, ok?”

“Well, it isn’t easy because you’re a fucking idiot, that’s for sure.” Tricia is as foul-mouthed as ever, making her way to Craig’s bed and sitting down next to her brother. Craig now realizes she’s carrying a small red notebook with her. “Lucky you, your sister is a genius. You can start praising me now.”

Craig groans, clearly not amused by his sister’s words. “What the hell are you planning this time?”

Tricia smiles, beaming pure pride, as she spreads open her little notebook, revealing a very overly decorated bucket list. Her pastel markers really tie it all together. “This, my stupid, clueless, absolutely dumb brother, is my master plan. A foolproof plan that even you could use.”

“A plan for what?” Craig spits back. “Finding the brain you’ve been missing?”

“A plan to get you and Tweek back together, asshole. You're welcome” She replies, somehow managing to flip Craig back without letting go of her notebook. “No way in hell I’m letting my chance of being an auntie slip away.”

Crain immediately grows stern, rising from  his lying down position to look his sister right in the eye. “Tricia, you can’t force these things.”

Tricia shakes her head, clearly still determined to go through with her devilish plan. “I’m not forcing anything, dumbass. I’ve got… Intel, about Tweek. And I think you might have a chance.”

“Intel?” Craig raises an eyebrow, suddenly a bit curious. “What on Earth do you mean by intel?”

“That’s classified.” his sister replies with a smirk. “Anyways, here I have a couple ideas I thought may work for you… Y’know, it’s not like you have much to lose, anyways.”

He shouldn’t. Craig knows he definitely shouldn’t do this, he knows it’ll only bring him more pain. He needs to let go, he needs to stop sticking his grubby little fingers into the aching open wound in his heart. Who on Earth lets their fourteen year old prepubescent sister have a say in his lovelife, anyways?

Craig knows he should refuse her offer. He knows he should work on himself, instead of working on bringing back together a couple that maybe was never meant to be together to begin with.

But he can’t. Another victim of curiosity, Craig sighs. “Alright, I’ll bite. What’s your plan?”

Chapter Text

Tweek just wanted to study. It’s not asking for too much, is it?

Just one nice study session, some peaceful time at the library so he could find all those manuals the professors were talking about. He doesn’t ask for anything fancy- just enough to pass the semester.

But if Tweek is sure of one thing, it’s that the universe must hate him. Why else was he here, in some shady alley, facing someone so dreadful?

“What are you doing here, Melvin?”

The tall man laughs, and his eye twitches. Tweek knows that gesture a bit too well, and he instinctively takes one step back, trying to keep his distance.

“What? You thought you could just run away, because you sucked your way out of rehab?”

Tweek tightens his fist, pressing his teeth a bit too hard. “I left the camp because I came clean Melvin. You too could’ve.”

“As if.” The man insists, approaching Tweek with a wide smile. Tweek tries to back away, but soon his back is met with a wall. “I know men like you. You couldn’t come clean if you tried.”

Tweek sighs, his eyes darting to his sides, to the space over the man’s shoulder, looking for an escape route. “I don’t care if you believe me or not.”

Melvin steps forward, hitting the wall with his naked fist hard enough to be foolish. It’s close enough to Tweek’s face that he can feel the air shifting slightly right on his ear. “You seem to have forgotten your manners.”

Tweek’s eyes sharpen. Melvin is taller than him, but getting so close to Tweek had been a foolish move. A waste of his elongated limbs.

He was erratic. The man’s  body shook slightly, his head flinched to the side every couple seconds. 

It was dangerous, of course, but not unlike a wild bull would be. Luckily enough, this wasn’t Tweek’s first rodeo.
He quickly catches the way the man’s arm begins to move, slowly, from the wall behind Tweek. Their position makes it much quicker for the blond boy to anticipate his moves, expertly landing a hook right beneath (name of the man)’s ribcage.

“You know, this has always bothered me…” Tweek sighs, looking down as the man immediately folds over his stomach, falling to the ground and coughing violently. “You don’t really know where to hit people.”

With the way the man clumsily moves his mouth, only choking sounds leaving his throat, he guesses he’s trying to speak. He doesn’t care enough, though.

He overly gently kicks the man, just to face him better. Tweek gives him a pitiful look. “Take it easy. It’ll get better soon.”

Melvin groans, trying to get up with shaky arms and an uneasy breath. Tweek sighs, before landing a harder kick right above the stomach, slightly to one side.That’s where the kidney should be.

Tweek takes a step back, shooting Melvin a cold, disdainful stare that doesn’t seem to care about how the taller man screams even through his sore throat. “You thought you could get away with the same bullshit you pulled back then?”

Melvin winces, clutching his side, tears streaming down his cheeks. If it wasn’t the same kid who ruined all those other kid’s lives back at the rehabilitation camp, Tweek would surely feel some sort of pity. 

It’s ridiculous.

The same man that had haunted his teenage years, the same face that appeared in his nightmares, was right beneath his feet. Gasping for eyes, defeated, beaten. A pitiful moron, a fly. Fuck, he didn’t even break a sweat, for God’s sake. Why didn’t he do it sooner? Just for good measure, Tweek repeats his last hit. It’s not a strong blow- but it’ll do, to keep the man in place for a little while. 

Tweek crunches down, knowing Mevin is all too focused on his sharp pain to even think clearly. After years of boxing, he truly has learned the worst spots to take any hits. 

“Listen here, Melvin.” He says. “I have nothing against you. If anything, I hope you someday recover. I hope you become a better person, and I hope you stop destroying the people around you.”

He forcefully grabs Melvin’s chin, forcing him to look Tweek right in the eye. “But if you cross my path again, and you keep insisting on getting on my bad side… I hope you come ready. Because I’m no longer the little kid you had wrapped around your finger.”

Many feelings cross the man’s face. Pain. Humiliation. Rage. He makes an almost animalistic sound, unable to speak through his gritted teeth, and Tweek doesn’t pay much attention to him, already standing back up.

Trusting this has been enough to dissuade the man from coming back again, Tweek carefully walks around him, making his way out of the shady alleyway. He takes a deep breath, the adrenaline-fueled confidence slowly dying down.

He had lifted a weight off his shoulder, he had taken a stand he should’ve taken years ago. But right now, all he really wanted was to head to the library and bury himself in books for a while.

Tweek might be a fighter, but he’s not a beast. And the last thing he needs is trouble with the police. 

In the shades, a grown man in spandex swallows hard. Damn. That was unexpected. Kind of hot, too.

Mysterion smiles to himself. Maybe keeping an eye on Tweek wasn’t necessary today. 

"Oh, Kenny, I wasn’t expecting you here.” Tweek greets his friend with a bright smile, putting aside the book he had taken. His knuckles are reddish, Kenny realizes. “Studying for the finals, already?”

Kenny shrugs with a smile, pretending like he didn’t just follow Tweek here. “Nah, just back from the gym.”
Tweek eyes the sport bag on his shoulder, and it seems to be enough to satiate any curiosity he might've had, much to Kenny’s relief

“Have you been here for long?” Kenny asks, although he already knows the question. He has. 

“I’m not sure, but it sure felt like an eternity. I hate Maths.” Tweek sighs, clearly tired. “Maybe getting into architecture wasn’t the best idea.”

Kenny chuckles, ruffling his friend’s hair. “Well, maybe you should rest.” He says, as he takes away the book from Tweek’s desk, eyeing it curiously. It doesn’t seem that complicated, but then again, he probably shouldn’t hold everyone to his own standards.

“I can’t. My test is in a week and I…” Frustrated, Tweek rubs his temple. “I still don’t get it, honestly.”

He had just had a street fight with some shady dude in a dark alleyway, and yet, Tweek was now only concerned about some university test. Kenny can not help but find it extremely endearing.

“You know, I could help you with this.” Kenny points out, proudly smiling. “Especially over some nice dinner.”

Tweek giggles, letting go of his worries a little bit. “And by “nice dinner” do you mean KFC or instant noodles?”

“Hm…” Kenny rubs his chins, exaggerating a self reflective face with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “What’s the best pick up option on the way to your dorm?”

Tweek sighs, but there’s a fondness, a softness in his eyes as he stares deep into Kenny’s that make the taller man’s stomach do entire flips. “You’ve got to stop inviting yourself over to my dorm, dude.”

“Is that a ‘no’, then?”

Tweek rolls his eyes, already walking towards the rather easy to spot truck that’s clumsily parked in front of the library. “KFC sounds a lot better today, I can order from the app.”

Kenny’s face lights up, basically beaming as he follows Tweek like some excited dog about to go on a walk. 

He can’t help but stare at Tweek’s back as he walks, amused. HE had just watched this man absolutely destroy someone in one clean hit, only to then spend almost three hours locked up in a library like nothing ever happened.  Just what on Earth was going on in that blond head of his?

Relief. That was the only answer. Tweek tried hard to keep his muscles relaxed, to ignore the numbness in his hands. After four years of quietly letting that man do whatever he wanted to him, just so he could avoid getting in any more trouble with the nurse, he could finally get all the payback he had ever dreamed about.

It felt good to have the situation under control, he thinks, as he waits for Kenny to unlock the truck. “So, you hit the gym now?”

Kenny shrugs, already getting inside the vehicle and starting the noisy engine. “Not as much as I would like. I’m not big on the big exercise thing but… It’s a nice place to meet people.” He lies. Actually, he tried to go at least once a week, but nobody needs to know the effort that goes in to keep up his vigilante activities.

“Y’know, you should’ve told me before.” Tweek pulls out some gum from his pocket, and after taking one piece, hands it to Kenny. “Want some?”

Taking his right hand off the steering wheel, Kenny takes one piece. “So you come here often too?”

“I like boxing.” Tweek explains. Seeing what had happened earlier today, Kenny doesn’t really question it. “And boxing in South Park is always extra fun.”

Kenny grimaces a little, remembering that time he tried to get into the ring to test his abilities as a vigilante. “It’s ruthless.”

“Just like life itself.” Tweek jokes, and the strawberry in his breath reaches his friend, who finds himself gripping the steering wheel a bit too hard.

“Didn’t know you had become an edgelord in California, of all places.” Kenny teases, and instead of being offended, Tweek lets go of a bittersweet laugh. “Was the rehab camp that bad?”

“It sucked ass. More than the foster care system, and that’s saying.” Tweek’s eyes grow slightly dim, lost in memories. “Even now that I’m outside I still feel like I carry the camp with me. Sometimes when I wake up I expect the nurse to check in on me to ask if I’m taking my meds.”

Guilt blooms once again in Kenny’s chest. He can’t bear to look at Tweek, but he does his best to keep a half-hearted smile, reassuring, detached from his own aching heart.

“I’m sorry you had to go through all that, dude.”

“Don’t be.” Tweek shrugs, “It’s not your fault.”

Well, it kind of is. At least that’s what Kenny still believes, but he knows nothing will really come out of pointing it out, so he keeps silently driving, turning up the music. 

Tweek checks the KFC app on his phone, comparing all the menus available, occasionally asking his friend for advice.

It’s a comfortable ride. Tweek has not only become used to Kenny’s tacky music sense, but he has somehow come to enjoy it, soon finding himself humming along too. Kenny gently taps on the steering wheel, stealing glances at his friend through the retrovisor mirror.

“I know I said I’d help you with your Math…” Kenny says, and there’s a playful glimmer in his eyes. “But we could watch a movie too, you know? You look kind of tired today."

Tweek’s thankful. He has spent a good amount of time at the library, and throwing himself off a building sounds a lot more tempting than spending any more time surrounding himself by numbers. He cracks a smile, looking right back at his friend. “You wish. Last movie was terrible, I’m not going through that again.”

“It’s your taste that sucks.” Kenny shrugs.

“Yeah, that’s why I like you.”

“Hah, yeah, that’s-” Wait.” Kenny takes the next turn rather harshly, an indiscreet blush soon manifesting in his cheeks as he coughs, choking on his own throat. “You little shit-”

Tweek’s laughter soon fills the truck, and as offended as Kenny tries to look, he can’t help but smile like an idiot. It’s so pretty. The way the pale man scrunches up his nose, the way he bends and clutches his stomach. 

“You are lucky I’m in a good mood today, Tweekers.” Kenny teases, trying to ground himself, as he stops the truck. He’s far too used to being the playful one, and clearly doesn’t quite know how to manage anyone getting back at him. “But if you’re so worried about my taste in movies- Why don’t you pick something out today?”

"Because you don't even know who Jean-Claude Van Damme is, genius," Tweek shrugs. "I'm not about to let your uncultured ass  ruin good movies for me."

Instead of being even annoyed by Tweek’s insults, Kenny just chuckles, already stepping out of the truck. “Guess I’ll need someone to teach me, then.”

There’s something about the way Kenny softly purrs his words out that makes Tweek’s breath hitch.  The strawberry blond opens up the truck’s door for him, and the mischievous look that he always seemed to sport was oh so tempting. 

Kenny has the charm of a poorly-maintained roller coaster. He was a promise of equal parts thrill and comfort, a wild chance to let yourself go. His eyes were the breeze that caresses your hair and face to lift up your heart’s heavy cargo. His hair was the sunset seen from someone else’s rooftop. You could ´balance on the tightrope of his flirty words, and find yourself falling towards the net of his comforting, toothy smile.

“A picture would last longer, Tweekers.”

Tweek’s face immediately fires up, but he ignores it, stepping out of the truck and into the university dorm’s parking lot. “A picture wouldn’t look half as dumb.”

Kenny rolls his eyes, chuckling as he leans slightly against the truck, cornering his friend. “Oh, c’mon. You were just staring holes into my so-called ‘dumb face’.”

Without using much strength, Tweek manages to push his friend away, unable to establish eye contact. “Stop projecting, McCormick.” He tries his best to sound as unfazed as he can, making his way towards the dormitory entrance, Kenny right behind him like an overgrown lapdog.

“Your place sure is cozy.” Kenny comments, staring around. Wooden models of buildings, airplanes and overall strange shapes litter the tiny room, proof of Tweek’s architecture career. “You know, I never thought you’d pick this major, but it kind of makes sense.”

Tweek rolls his eyes, taking off his jacket and laying it on his messy desk. “And what were you expecting me to study, huh?”

“I don’t know,” the freckled man shrugs. “Maybe art or something? Even English would’ve made more sense.”

Tweek arches an eyebrow. “Because I’m gay? C’mon, dude. I’d rather have you call me a slur than this.”

Kenny just laughs, already sitting down by the bed, letting his sport bag settle in the middle of the floor. If Tweek minds it, he doesn’t seem to realize it. “No, idiot.” Kenny replies, patting the empty space right next to him. “It’s just… I don’t know. Architecture must be stressful.”

“Well, the technicalities can be a pain in the ass…” Tweek acknowledges, sitting down by Kenny’s side, pretending not to mind the way their knees brush against each other. He smiles, looking at his friend right in the eyes, the beautiful spectacle of baby blue and hazel never failing to amaze him. “But that’s when you come in, right? You did help me a great deal with the entire physics thing last time.”

Kenny stares back into Tweek’s eyes, smirking, as he reaches out to cup his friend’s cheeks. Unlike most of his friends, who’d swat his hand away, or most of his hook ups, who’d immediately jump him, Tweek simply lets it lay there, smiling gently. 

It’s nice being with him. It doesn’t incite any ravenous hunger, it doesn’t make Kenny feel out of place. Tweek is  comfortable, a presence he feels himself basking in. Something he can indulge in, someone he wants to indulge.

“I am a good teacher.” He acknowledges, slowly tracing Tweek’s jaw with his index finger. “Of course, spending some extra time with you is a nice plus.”

Tweek lets go of a breathy laugh, relishing the warm feeling that Kenny’s warm fingers spread upon his skin, slowly descending down his neck. It sends a shiver that crosses his entire body, but Tweek decides to ignore the fuzzy feeling blooming on his chest. “I already told you, McCormick. You won’t sweet talk me into giving you anymore sandwiches.”

“I’m not just using you for the free food, blondie.” Kenny chuckles. “Although I’m not complaining about it, either.”

They stand in silence for a little while, neither of them daring to break away, eyes fixated on the other’s. Kenny’s hand still lays on Tweek’s slender neck. Tweek’s hand has come to rest on Kenny’s thigh. It’s uncomfortable. It’s tense. It’s awkward. But neither of the men want it to stop, which only makes it all so much worse.

Kenny can feel a drop of cold sweat running along his back. 

He shouldn’t. He had told his sister there was nothing special about Tweek, he had reassured her. And it wasn’t a lie- it's not like he was head over heels for the ex-meth addict or anything. But he just looked so… Enticing. The way he depended on him, always searching for Kenny in the crowd whenever he needed some reassurance, the way he could perfectly stand up for himself, and yet still wanted to face things with Kenny by his side… It was so pretty. It made Kenny feel not needed, but wanted. And that was a rare thing in this town. 

There’s a strange, raw sense of longing in his gaze as it fixates on the man in front of him, and even Tweek seems to notice it. And god, is it beautiful.

When was the last time Tweek saw anyone look at him with anything other than pity? When was the last time someone saw him for who he was, and not for his sob story.

Someone who had seen him, ugly sobbing in the night, getting high and screaming at the void. Someone who had seen him bruise his knuckles, someone who had given him his hand when the one person who was supposed to just brought him down. 

Tweek loved Craig. He’d always do. Craig had been his first love, his first boyfriend. He had been the name he still occasionally cried on long nights of withdrawal and sleeping pills. But it had never been meant to be.

Sure, they could’ve gone back. That day, at the party, Tweek could’ve kissed his drunk ex boyfriend and made up. He could’ve woken up in his arms, he could’ve kissed his cheeks good morning.

But for how long would that hold up? Addiction’s ghost would never stop haunting Tweek. And Craig would still never understand it.

Kenny, on the other hand, sees Tweek for who he is. Imperfect, but whole. And he loves him.

Maybe it isn’t in a romantic way- I mean, Kenny McCormick, falling for someone?- but he had accepted Tweek in a way nobody else had. Not as a little creature to pity, but as a man. As a friend. As an equal.

Does that mean he loves Kenny?

It’s complicated. He could never forget about Craig.

But Kenny looked so handsome, his light eyes so alluring, the soft motion of his eyelashes so enchanting…

Maybe he didn’t have to love Kenny. Maybe Tweek just liked him, in a very special way. He liked his laugh, he liked the gap in between his teeth, freckles on his nose. He liked how his touch felt, warm, welcoming. How Kenny’s chest would rise and fall, his soft snores soothing Tweek’s anxiety.

The tension grows thicker, and Tweek could swear Kenny’s face is getting closer. Is he leaning in, or is Kenny doing it? He can almost feel his breath on his face, still smelling like the strawberry gum he had given him.

Just as Tweek’s heart is about to give up, the ringing of a doorbell fills the room.

“Our diner must be here.” Tweek says, breaking the silence and stepping away, heading towards the door with flushed cheeks. Kenny’s eyes linger a bit too much on his figure, but he doesn’t even bother to hide it.

Tweek kind of autopilots through his brief and awkward conversation with the delivery man. His hands are shaky, his eye keeps twitching- he’s pretty sure he’s said something weird, judging by the confused look on the delivery man’s face before he turns away and leaves.

Normally, having upset someone else would be enough to send Tweek down a rabbit hole of fear and baseless paranoia, but right now he can¡t even hear his fearful thoughts over the pounding sound of his heart.

He loves Craig Tucker. Whether he wants to or not, he does. He shouldn’t be feeling this way about anybody else, much less Kenny. They are friends, for god’s sake. He can’t ruin the one firm friendship he’s managed to establish with a dude in the last five years.

Tweek sighs, setting down the bags in his humble coffee table. Kenny’s already practically drooling at the mouth, clearly too distracted by the delicious smell of fried chicken to realize his friend’s confused feelings.

The heart can wait, but the stomach sure as hell won’t.

“So… Can you eat take-out or do I have to be your royal taste tester again?” Kenny jokes, already digging in with hungry hands. “I wouldn’t mind”

Tweek sighs. “You don’t have to. But it would be nice if you were to try it first while I set up the movie.” He shrugs. “You are going to help me with Maths after this, though. You promised.”

“So you’re sitting next to me on a weekend night, in front of a delicious bucket of kfc, and your first concern is math?” The freckled man teases, already stuffing his face with chicken. Tweek doesn’t even bat an eye, already used to his lack of manners. “You’re such a nerd, dude.”

Tweek works on connecting his laptop to the small tv, plumbing a bit with the birdnest the cables apparently have formed. “Whatever.” He mumbles, finally managing to get the screen to light up.

He puts in his password and begins looking through his video files, surprisingly full of pirated movies. “So… You wanna finally learn who Van  Damme is?”

Kenny smiles through a mouthful of fries, specks of salt on his chin, lips shining from the grease. Tweek is glad he has enough napkins to scrub clean his entire apartment. “Hell yeah I am.”

Tweel scrolls through his files, mumbling to himself. It’s not easy to pick a film that could convey his love for these sorts of movies. He ends up landing on Double Impact, right before heading back to the humble couch.

“So what’s this one about?”

“You’ll see.” Tweek answers with a mischievous smirk, ignoñring his nervous heart. There’s no reason for him and Kenny to be sitting this close- his couch is definitely not that small- but neither of them seem to say anything about it and Kenny doesn't pull away. “All I’m saying is that Corinna Everson is on this one.”

Kenny has no idea who on Earth that is, but he decides to let the movie speak for itself. Tweek clicks ‘play’ and soon the distant echoes of cheesy lines, gunshots and explosions fill the room, numbing the uncomfortable feeling stirring in Tweek’s heart as he absent mindedly chews on a fry. 

Weirdly enough, TWeek can’t bring himself to concentrate on the movie. It’s one of his favorite ones, but his eyes keep on drifting towards the man next to him. Kenny focuses hard on the movie, lips curling in a smile at the ridiculous violence taking place on the screen, eyes twinkling in excitement at the most tense moments.

The flickering light from the screen bounces off his face, defining his features. A small straight nose, slightly downturned eyes full of mischief and life. A long neck, halfway hidden beneath his orange parka.

Oh.

Why did he keep it inside Tweek’s dorm? It’s not cold at all.

At least the color orange fits him. If Tweek had to make a bet, he’d bet that Kenny’s heart couldn’t be any other color than orange. Warm, welcome, uplifting… 

He just has a way with people, with words. He makes Tweek feel at home, even when the shorter blond has never had such a thing.

A warm feeling on his thigh bursts Tweek’s bubble, making him twitch lightly. His eyes darted to Kenny, who is now staring at him tenderly with a knowing smile. Only then does he realize that all he’s hearing anymore is the music playing during the credits.

“Should we get to math, then?”

Kenny’s question barely registers on Tweek’s flustered brain. He finds himself reddening immediately, head to toe, standing up to put some distance in between them.

“Yeah! I’ll,  uh-” Tweek drags his words a bit, clearly not at his brightest moment. “-clear up the table.”

He begins hastily gathering the empty and greasy take-out containers, hands shaky and breaths lightly hitched. Even as he walks away to push the trash into his humble trash can, he can feel Kenny’s gaze on him, intense, only flustering Tweek further.

Tweek tries to compose himself, as he takes his notebook and sits back on the couch, this time keeping his distance. 

“So… I-uhm, I’m struggling with the theory part.” Tweek says, clearing his throat. “You know, formulas and stuff. It’s not my forte.”

Kenny shrugs, taking Tweek’s notebook and glancing over his notes. “Woah, dude. Your handwriting sucks.” He earns a soft, playful punch in his shoulder, which he welcomes with a playful smile. “That’s no way to thank your professor, you know?”

“Good thing you aren’t my professor, then.”

“You’re no fun” Kenny pouts, but soon a  mischievous smile takes over. “Talking about fun… Why don’t we make this a game?”

“I’m not five, Ken-”

Kenny presses his slender index against Tweek’s lips, clearly not into the idea of having a boring tutoring session. Tweek would normally complain, but damn, it’s hard when Kenny looks this tempting.

“We’re playing a game.” Kenny states, taking back his hand. “For every question you get right, you get to ask me something.”

“Why would I-”

“You’ve been staring holes at me the entire movie, Tweek” Kenny teases, clearly amused by the way Tweek’s cheeks light up. “Plus, it’s fun. What else would you want?”

Tweek rolls his eyes, feigning an annoyance that is fooling absolutely no one. “Sure, whatever.”

“Alright..” Kenny says, smiling widely as he keeps going through Tweek’s notes, clearly struggling to make out what is written there. He flips through several pages before he seems to find something he deems worthy of asking. “So… What’s the formula for Phi?”

It’s hard to recall anything right now, the electric tension between Kenny’s now kind of distant body and his buzzing too loudly on Tweek’s ears. He swallows, digging through the archives of his brain.

“Uhm, phi is the… Golden ratio, so that’d be one, plus the square root of five divided by two.” Tweek recites. “That’d be approximately 1.618.”

There’s pride in Kenny's smile as he reaches over to ruffle Tweek’s head. “And you were stressed over your test? You’re doing great, dude!” He congratulates Tweek, and the shorter man can find himself relaxing a little bit. “Shoot your question, man. You’ve earned that.”

Tweek nods, feeling a bit shy. “So, uhm… Why do you hang out with me?”

Kenny cracks a smile, amused. “I felt responsible. You know, I am technically the reason they took you away from your parents.” He shrugs. Both Tweek and him already knew this. “You’re nicer than I expected, though. I quite like you now.”

Tweek breaks eye contact, feeling nervous, not really knowing what to day. “That’s, well, I guess that’s good?”

Kenny chuckles, clearly having the time of his life. It’s just too fun, seeing Tweek fumble with his words, with his hands. He wears his heart on his sleeve, but maybe he doesn’t even notice it. Tweek is just too transparent, too obvious. 

“Hey, I also have a Math test coming soon, so…” Kenny has a mischievous glint in his eyes as he hands Tweek back his homework. “Why don’t we make this a two-way thing?”

“S-Sure, man.” Tweek smiles, going through his well-read notes. He already knows where to find the formula he wants to ask Kenny about. “In Trigonometry, what’s a Pythagorean identity?”

Kenny smirks. “It’s an equation that relates the trigonometric functions of an angle in a right triangle.” He answers, way faster and way more smoothly than Tweek would’ve expected. “Why do you look at me like that?”

Tweek’s clearly taken aback by the brazen question, eyes widening in almost horror. Kenny feels the strange need to soothe him, but he manages to keep his cool.

“I- uh. You’re, uhm-” Tweek stumbles, clearly struggling to speak properly. “Oh Jesus! Sorry, man- You’re just…”

“Pretty?” Kenny suggests, and Tweek wants to believe that his sweet tone is only mocking him.

“Yeah- Whatever.” Tweek shakes his head, trying not to mind his friend. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

“You mean my pretty head?” Kenny teases, and oh God, he’s so lame, but it’s so cute… “So, what’s the Structural  Load Formula?”

Tweek swallows hard. “The sum multiplied by x times i.” He answers, a bit too eager to ask his next personal question. “Why didn’t you take off your parka when you came in?”

“Well, the parka is kind of my thing, isn’t it?” Kenny shrugs, but just as he speaks, he takes off the orange coat, as if to prove a point. “You could’ve told me if you wanted me to start taking off my clothes.”

Tweek throws one of the pillows he has laying around his coach right at Kenny’s face, who just laughs lightheartedly. “What’s Euler’s buckling Formula?”

“No need to be so uptight, Tweekers.” Kenny complains, rolling his eyes. “Pi squared times E times I, divided by I_effective squared.”

God he’s good. Tweek feels kind of jealous, honestly. How on Earth did Kenny learn so much, if this formula shouldn’t even be that important for physics anyways?

“So… Are you thinking of seeing people again?” Kenny asks, discreetly getting a bit closer to Tweek. Their knees touch again. “It’s been a long time.”

Tweek looks away. He feels nervous under Kenny’s firm gaze. He knows the right answer, and he knows the truth isn’t it. But there’s no way on Earth he’d lie- Not to Kenny, not after all he’s done for Tweek. “I-I don’t think it’d be easy for me.” He recognizes. “It’s not just Craig- I just… I don’t know. I feel like a bomb that’s just waiting to blow up. A boat waiting to sink. I don’t want to bring anyone down with me.”

‘I’d love to be brought down with you’, Kenny thinks, but he doesn’t say anything. He just gently cups Tweek’s hand, smiling his way. “You’re a better person than you think, Tweek. You’re stronger than anyone I’ve met.” He reassures his friend. “It’s ok if you’re not ready for anything serious- but don’t ever forget you’re as deserving of love as anyone else.”

Tweek smiles, grateful, but looks away. “Thanks.” His words are a bit drier than he’d like to, clearly uncomfortable by the situation. “But let’s just… Keep going.”

Kenny nods, but he doesn’t pull away, his hands still on Tweek’s face. “What’s the Flexural Stress Formula?”

Fuck. That one is always confusing.

“Uh.. Sigma is equal to the product of the bending moment M and the distance c, divided by…” Tweek presses his lips together for a second. “The product of the moment of inertia I and the distance y.”

Kenny seems a bit surprised. “That’s a good one right there. You might just pass this subject, Tweekers.” He says, in a half mocking tone. “Hope you have a question to match.”

“Actually, I do.” Tweek shoots back. He feels his nerves growing and growing in his stomach, his heart pumping blood with so much velocity he fears his veins will simply burst. “Why did you bite me?”

Kenny laughs, so close to Tweek’s face that he feels the sound echo in his ears.  The taller man’s thumb softly caresses small circles on Tweek’s skin, sending shivers up his spine. “I panicked. Can you blame me?”

Tweek rolls his eyes. “You’re supposed to answer seriously, dude. Isn’t that the entire point of the game?”

Kenny shrugs, putting away his hand. “I am being serious.” He states, but Kenny doesn’t give Tweek enough time to process his words. The last thing he needs is for the shorter blond to panic. “But let’s keep going. It’ll get late soon, Tweekers”

Tweek sighs. “Euler’s Column Formula?”

“Pi squared times E times I, divided by I_effective squared.” Kenny’s response is almost immediate. “Were you hoping I’d kiss you back then?”

Fuck.

There it is. Tweek’s heart is going to burst, he’s going to explode. They’ll have nothing to bury other than his stranded bits, that they’ll have to peel off his walls and ceilings.

No. No, it’s fine. He’s just blushing. That’s it. Maybe shaking a bit. Maybe shaking a lot. “That- That question is not-!”

Kenny sighs, but he doesn’t back down. Instead, he leans in, smiling through half lidded eyes. “You’re right, that was a dumb question. Let me reformulate.”

His lips are slightly parted, Tweek realizes. Kenny’s cheeks are tinted a soft peachy tone that contrasts with his light blue eyes, so enchanting, so mesmerizing… The strawberry blond hair points in every direction, almost surrounding Kenny in a halo, a godly like. Tweek has never been this sure angels were real.

“Can I kiss you?”

Chapter Text

“Can I kiss you?”

Tweek’s heart skips a bit. Kenny is mere inches away from him now, and he can tell by the eager look in his friend’s eyes that it’s taking all in his power to keep himself away from Tweek.

How long has it been since the last time he felt desired, wanted this badly? How long can he keep himself away from Kenny, when he just looks so promising?”

“We shouldn’t-”

“That’s not my question, Tweek.” Kenny interrupts, his tone gentle as ever, making Tweek’s heart melt into a puddle. “Can I kiss you? It’s a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ question, blondie, you can do this.”

Tweek doesn’t find the words to reply, he doesn’t find the strength to be coherent right now. Instead, he just leans in, his quivery lips meeting Kenny’s rather forcefully. He doesn’t even feel in proper control of his body, panic and desire in equal measure making him move as if it's pure instinct.

Kenny doesn’t take long to reciprocate, and Tweek can feel his needy hands wandering over his waist, his back, his neck. 

 He can’t help it. He wants to commit Tweek’s shape to memory, the slight way his body shakes beneath Kenny’s palms. He shouldn’t. He’s disappointing Karen, he’s disappointing his own instincts, yelling at him to pull away, to get out while the water is just lukewarm if he doesn’t want to boil to death.

Tweek pulls away, lips slightly swollen, eyes watery and skin pale. Kenny immediately panics. Did he do something wrong? Did he hurt him? Did he overstep..?

“I’m- I’m so fucking sorry, I-” Tweek stammers, and Kenny’s heart sinks. “I shouldn’t have- this isn’t- I’m sorry, Kenny, I-”

“If you don’t want to, it’s ok, Tweek.” Kenny tries to look as calm as always, gently pulling away. His voice sounds a bit hoarse. Surprisingly, Tweek holds his hand in place, right on the shorter man’s cheek. 

“It’s not that! Gah!” Tweek immediately says, a bit too loudly. “I just- I don’t want to ruin this. To ruin us.”

Kenny’s uneasiness fades a bit, and he smiles gently, kissing Tweek’s forehead.

Yes, it’s wrong. Tweek is still pretty much hung up on Craig, that’s for sure, and he, well… Kenny’s not about to go around falling in love again. He can’t afford to keep getting hurt.

“This doesn’t have to ruin us, Tweek.” He softly coos, pressing his forehead against Tweek’s. “Just think of this as… A fun thing to do together. Like smoking. It brings us together, we both enjoy it: But that’s it.”

Tweek swallows hard. He does like smoking. He does like Kenny’s soft lips against his own. His hands running through his body. The proximity in between their bodies. I mean, it’s natural, isn’t it? The last relationship he had with another human being was back when they were both around 13. There’s many things he never really got to experience, and now all these new, inexperienced feelings, are overwhelming every little spec of common sense he ever had. He had yearned for someone to make him feel this way for so long- but that person was long gone. 

“Is it pity?” Tweek asks, fear apparent in his voice. “Is that why you let me do this? I don’t want to be your charity, this must be disgusting, and you should just-”

“Tweek-”

“-leave right now, while you can, and then I’ll just-” Tweek goes on rambling, ignoring Kenny completely, too lost in his panic to reason properly. “-go back where I came from, and then-”

Kenny sighs, taking Tweek by the collar of his shirt and pulling him in in a passionate kiss, effectively shutting him up.

Tweek’s eyes widen in surprise before shutting down as he succumbs to the warm feeling that suddenly covers every inch of his being. 

Kenny’s needy, hungry, contrasting off Tweek’s wariness. It’s no secret that the ex-meth addict is clumsy, inexperienced.

All he can recall were Craig’s chaste lips, sweet and short, full of tenderness but as childish as you’d have expected them to be. This, though? This felt so different, in such a beautiful way.

Tweek’s trembling hands climb their way up to Kenny’s face, his fingers soon nestling inside Kenny’s soft strawberry-blond locks, pulling the man closer. If Kenny’s taken aback by his advances, he doesn’t say anything. 

As static fills the tv screen, both men give into each other with the gentlest urgency.  Soon, their soft exploration of each other's shapes turns into something more. It’s wrong- it’s foolish. They both know it, but damn, isn’t it intoxicating. Exhilarating.

Kenny’s poisonous touch turns everything into a blurr, a misty background where nothing other than he matters. When he feels his warmth, when he feels Kenny’s breath against the nape of his neck, Tweek can let go of all his worries. 

It’s confusing, just like a particularly good trip would be. Something feels wrong, and yet Tweek finds himself too lost in Kenny’s hot skin, in his raw adoration, to even think about the conflicting feeling in his heart. 

He feels all common sense slipping away, his own sense of self dissipating as both him and Kenny turn into nothing but a mess of entangled limbs, two lonely planets that collide, hoping that in destruction they’ll find some solace.

There’s a whirlwind of feeling that blinds Tweek’s high, and amidst all the confusing shape, through his tear-filled eyes, he sees him.

Craig Tucker, deep blue eyes looking right into his soul.

The indulgent hours of the night go by sweetly as ever, but soon the ugly sun rises back up again. 

When Tweek opens up his eyes, he finds himself nestled into Kenny’s side, who’s spreading like some dried-up starfish, taking over his humble college dorm bed.  Tweek takes his time staring at the man right next to him, the living proof that last night was not some wild fleeting dream.

He looks pretty, even in the morning. Peacefully breathing in and out, his chest rising and falling again and again like the coming and going waves. He looks blissful, his neck now displaying small clues of their shared moments.

Kenny would make a great boyfriend. He’s understanding, he’s gentle, he’s funny. He has proven to be maybe the most selfless person in town, and yet he never gives out that “holier-than-thou” vibe that others do. Kenny feels, above all, human. Warm flesh Tweek can reach out, teeth that have sunk into his flesh with the most mundane of hungers.

But they’re friends. He’s probably just another name in the long list of people that have shared a bed with Kenny McCormick, just one more victim to his many charms. 

Maybe it’s for the best, Tweek wonders. He can still taste the remnants of Craig’s name in his mouth. Bitter. Sharp. 

Both the guilt and the shame weigh heavy on Tweek’s heart. He had his ex boyfriend’s name engraved on his heart, but his best friend's marks littered all over his body. He feels dirty, he feels more ashamed than he had felt in years.

How could he? How could he have let himself go in such a way?

He had used Kenny to fill a void in his heart. All he could hope is that Kenny, too, had gotten some use out of his body. Maybe, after having given every bit of his soul to Craig, his body was all Tweek could really offer anymore.

He did seem to enjoy it last night. The foggy memories play out like a movie on Tweek’s head, and a weird mix of shame and something he’s not quite sure he wants to name invades all of his body. 

He feels his face heat up, deciding that it’s best to get out of bed as soon as he can. He definitely needs a shower, and some cold water would be lovely to calm his spinning head.

He carefully crawls out, trying his best not to wake up Kenny, and making sure to spread the bed sheet over his friend’s naked form. Last thing Kenny McCormick needs or deserves is a cold.

Tweek immediately heads to the bathroom, avoiding the mirror. He already knows his neck is not looking too great, but right now it’s the least of his worries.

He had slept with his friend. As in, actually slept with him. And out of all the people he could’ve thought about, all of the names he could’ve called, it had to be his. 

Craig Tucker.

How could Kenny forgive him, after what happened?

I mean, it’s not like what they did was supposed to have any meaning. Kenny did say it was just like smoking- a bonding moment they could both enjoy. There’s no romantic implications, so there should be no jealousy, no compromise, no exclusivity. But still, to call someone else’s name? That feels flat out rude. Mortifying. Tweek kind of wishes he could just dig a hole in his dorm’s floor and hide there forever.

Since digging is not an option, Tweek steps into the shower, turning on the cool water as if that would wash away the guilty feeling in his chest.

He lathers himself in soap, taking in a deep breath to steady himself. At least he hopes they weren’t too noisy- last thing he needs is to get into trouble. I mean, he’s not even supposed to bring other people to his dorm, not for an entire night.

What if his dorm neighbor complains? What if he gets kicked out of the university? What if Kenny wakes up and decides to get mad and leaves?

Tweek would lose his best friend. Tweek would lose the one person that’s been there for him since he came back to South Park. Could he handle that? But what could he do?

He had fucked up, he had ruined their relationship big time. And all because he was still too caught up on the past, holding too tightly onto the memories of something that could no longer be.

It’s just… He can’t help but wish that things had been different. He wishes his parents had loved him, he wishes he had been a healthy kid. He wishes he could’ve stayed in South Park. Tweek just wishes that dating Craig was an option.

But a gram is all it takes. A speck of dust, almost. A bad day. A bad week. He knows he’s a disaster waiting to happen, and if there’s one person he can’t afford to hurt it’s Craig Tucker. Not when he loved him this much, even after all this time, even after all this bullshit.

Tweek almost obsessively scrubs his skin, eyes closed. Maybe if he scrubs enough he’ll get clean. Maybe if he scrubs enough that nasty feeling in his skin will disappear. Maybe if he scrubs enough his sins will go down the drain.

“Dude, you’re going to hurt yourself.” A hoarse voice behind him rings, and Tweek almost falls from the velocity he turns around with. A very sleepy but concerned Kenny stands next to him, soaked hair framing his face and neck. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry.” Tweek blurts out, hoping that the shower hides his warm tears. “I-I shouldn’t have..”

Kenny’s expression softens, as he delicately takes Tweek’s hands, prying them away from his arms. The skin there is reddened, self-inflicted scratch marks bright beneath the running water. “Tweek, I don’t mind it.” He softly lies, smiling tenderly. “Did you like it?”

Tweek looks away, embarrassed, simply nodding. Kenny leans in, kissing his friend’s forehead like its second nature. “That’s all that matters, Tweekers.”

Kenny’s comforting words only make Tweek feel even more awful, feeding his mixed feelings. He loved Craig, but Kenny was so sweet. He was everything Tweek could’ve ever dreamt of, he was everything Tweek could ever need…

But he wasn’t Craig. And Tweek feared his own heart hadn’t realized this last part.

A warm, fuzzy feeling in his head surprises Tweek. Kenny’s carefully massaging his scalp, spreading shampoo all over his head.

“Dude-”

“Let me do this.” Kenny interrupts, and Tweek doesn’t dare speak back. “I really like how soft your hair is.”

Tweek closes his eyes, throwing his head back so the bubbles don't get to his eyes. Kenny always does this, just like he did yesterday: He showers Tweek with love, with attention, with patience… All the things he knows he doesn’t deserve. All the things people like him know mean nothing but bad news.

“Hi. You’ve reached Tweek Tweak, thanks for calling. I can’t answer your call at the moment- but please leave any messages you may have after the sound.”

Craig took in a deep breath. It’s fine. You’ve got this. He exchanges a hesitant look with Tricia, who gives him a thumbs up. “Hello, Tweek. It’s, uhm, it’s me, Craig.” He wants to hit himself. God. Why did he have to sound this stupid?  When did he forget how to speak in English? “I know last time it was… Awkward, but I’ve been thinking about what you said.”

He’s not sure how to continue this. It’d be a lie, to say he’s reconsidered everything and decided that being Tweek’s friend was enough. It would never be. It would hurt worse than hell, it would burn like nothing ever has. But maybe, just maybe, pain is better than absence.

“I know I started on the wrong foot, but… I’d love to be your friend again.” He continues, his tone bitter, and even Tricia feels her heart drop a little, seeing the raw desperation in her brother’s eyes. “I was thinking, maybe you’d like to go to the amusement park sometime? Just to catch up- no funny business, I promise.”

Craig shoots Tricia a doubtful look, searching for approval. She nods, and it seems to reassure Craig a little bit. It’s weird for them to communicate without the constant flipping-off and sibling banter, enough to make Craig’s nerves worse.

“So, uhm, that’d… That’d be all.” Craig awkwardly says. “Hope you have a good day.”

Craig immediately hangs up, throwing himself back into his bed. God, he hated leaving voicemails. Why did Tricia have to insist so much on this being a call, when it would’ve been a simple text?

“Glad to see you’ve still got some balls” Tricia mocks, sitting down right next to him, scrolling through TikTok. “Maybe next time you can try to sound less like a lovestruck middle schooler, though.”

“I’m not taking dating advice from a fourteen year old-”

“Yes, you are.”

Craig rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t even make an effort to respond. Tricia’s right anyways. He’s pitiful, begging for advice even from his younger sister, knowing all of his hopes might be in vain.

But isn’t that what love is about?

Maybe it’s time for Craig to come to terms with this. He loves Tweek, he loves Tweek with so much of his soul, with so much of his being, that to stop loving home would mean losing himself.  He loves him in the same fundamental way he loves stars, guinea pigs or the color blue. We are what we love, and in his fear of facing his now one-sided affection, Craig hadn’t even realized he was hiding from himself.

He sighs. It still sucks, but it almost feels like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders. Now the ball is on Tweek’s court, and Tricia can stop pestering him.

“What do you think he liked about you?”

Craig is caught off guard by the question. He looks at his sister, who keeps scrolling through her phone, not making eye contact. Still, he knows she’s listening. “I don’t know…” He thinks back to all those years, and wonders what someone like Tweek could’ve seen in him. “We were pretty different, in all honesty. But I guess that’s why we worked out.” 

It’s odd, to remember how it all started. A relationship under pressure, sure. But he still remembers that time Tweek showed up at his house, right after the breakup, how he wanted to fix things, to make it right for him when there really was no real reason to.

“He said I made him believe in himself.” Craig continues, nostalgia apparent in his eyes, a warm smile that hurts so much more than tears ever could. “But that… That was a long time ago. He doesn’t need me anymore.”

“That’s good.” Tricia lets down her phone, looking as confident as usual. “I’m sure Tweek hasn’t forgotten all the times you were there for him. Maybe you messed up big time,  being a rude asshole and all that, but you just have to… Balance it out.”

Craig groans. “It’s not that easy, Tricia- It’s been so long…” He grimaces, remembering the last time he saw Tweek, grinning so beautifully he could outshine both sun and moon. Remembering the man he was smiling at. Maybe in a  kinder, softer universe, that man would’ve been Craig. But if there’s a God up there, it must hate him- because that smile was towards none other than Kenny. The very man who had very clearly bared his teeth Craig’s way, his warning words still clear in his memory. “He might’ve found somebody else.”

Tricia sighs. She really didn’t want to come clear about this yet, but it looks like she has no other option. “I know you’re worried about Karen’s brother.” She mumbles, almost as if she’s still unsure as to whether she should share this information or not. “But… I might or might have not asked her to lend us a hand.”

“You did what?”

“I had to! She and Tweek are like, super close now!” She immediately starts defending herself. After all, Karen, too, misses Tweek. “I just… Asked her to get information about Tweek, about how he’s feeling, how he’s doing…”

Craig knows this isn’t right. Tweek has always hated gossip, he has always hated this sort of thing, feeling pressure from other people. But his curiosity gets the best of him. “And what do you know?”

“He’s doing a lot better than you are, that’s for one.” She admits, half-mockingly. “But… He’s not over you, Craig. You still have a chance.”

Her brother looks away, a pained expression taking over his face. “We talked, too. I was drunk, but I remember…” He sighs. Remembering his mistakes is like rubbing salt right on his wound. “He was pretty adamant on the ‘just friends’ side of things, Tricia.”

“Well, maybe he’s afraid, dipshipt.” Tricia says, clearly not amused by her brother’s moping. “You’ve been a huge mess for a while now, I’m sure Tweek is still trying to figure out how to handle this situation. He’s a nice guy- but he’s never been the best at these things.”

Craig wants to reply, but Tricia’s right. Sure, Tweek was always the first to apologize, but he still was a proud man whose fears often outweighed his common sense. Assuming his feelings was hard, specially for someone as emotionally stupid as Craig has always been. 

Before he gets to speak up, however, his phone buzzes, and both his sister and him immediately leap towards it.

“Is it him?” Tricia asks, clearly hyped.

“It is.” Craig answers, equal parts excited and terrified. “God it is him!”

“Then read it out loud, asshole!” She complains, flipping her brother off. “C’mon!”

Craig breathes deeply, his hands shaking, his heart beating. God. God he can’t do this. He just can’t bear to open the small notification, Tweek’s smiling face looking as pretty as ever as his profile picture. Tricia rolls her eyes, immediately snatching his phone away.

“Hey!-”

“Hello there, Craig.” Tricia reads outloud, ducking her brother’s arm as he reaches out to get his phone back. “Thank you for reaching out, smiley face. I’d love to! Does next Sunday work for you?”

Next Sunday. Next Sunday. Tweek wants to meet him. He wants to see him. They’ll meet. Next Sunday.

Is this a dream? It must be. I mean, he was beating up Tweek on Tolkien’s oversized basement less than a month ago, how could this be happening now? 

He could see him, again, in the light he used to. God, Craig still remembers all their past dates, how beautiful Tweek looked when they rode the Merry-go-around, the window right behind him showing off the entirety of their small town, it’s light bathing Tweek’s figure like a halo. 

Tricia doesn’t remember ever seeing her brother look this pathetic. Blushing, but completely deadpan, his emotions so overwhelming his face just completely shuts off. She’d love to take a picture, just to torture him later on, but she decides to play the responsible sibling part, playfully nudging her brother’s arm.

“C’mon, let’s prepare your outfit. I’m not letting you show up in a hoodie.” She teases, with an encouraging tone. “We’ll also need to go over your manners, too. I’m not letting you make a fool of yourself.”

“But-”

“I already replied for you” Tricia smirks, throwing her brother his phone back. It bounces softly on the plush bed. “You owe me one, though.”

‘I really do’, Craig thinks, as he checks the text bubbles on his phone’s screen. He still can’t believe that Tweek is willing to meet up, especially in a place that had once been so significant for him.

But… He can’t really shake off the feeling that something is off. 

There’s no typos in that message. Had Tweek grown out of his clumsy habits? Maybe since his shaking problem has gotten better, he struggles way less with typing. Maybe he shouldn’t read too hard into it.

“Craig, hurry up!” Tricia's voice brings him back. She’s already out of his stuffy bedroom. “You’re treating me to ice cream!”

Chapter Text

Hello, it's the author here!

I haven't published in a while. If you've been reading my notes during the last few chapters, you may know this is because of my uni exams and stuff. 

Sadly I overworked myself and have been sick as hell lately. Did you know sleep deprivation makes you hallucinate? It's n o t fun.

Fear not though!! I'm back. I was hoping I'd publish next chapter today, but I still have to proofread it and I'm still recovering. Also I have two tests left lol. And my brother's getting married so that may keep me busy. Also I have a job. Hahan't

I still thought I'd let you guys know that I w I l l keep on publishing, and we're only halfway through with this fic. Thank you for your support and time<3 don't give up on me just yet!!

Anyways, since I'm desperately in need of motivation to keep on writing through my exhaustion, why don't you tell me how you're liking the fic this far? Any theories on what couple may be endgame? 

See you soon!!

Love,

Isaac<3

Chapter Text

Tweek puts down two plates of pancakes on the coffee table, eyeing Kenny with curiosity. He looks fresh as a rose, for someone who slept so little. Then again, he did sleep deep as a baby.

“That’s my phone.”

Kenny looks up at him with a sly smirk. “Yeah, sorry. I guess I must’ve confused it for mine.” He apologizes, not even trying to sound sorry in the slightless, as he hands Tweek back the device, his baby blue eyes soon focusing on the warm breakfast in front of him. “Oh, you spoil me, Tweekers.”

Tweek shrugs, checking the hour on his phone. “Well, I did owe you, so… Eat away, man.”

He doesn’t really need an invitation, but Kenny smiles widely at Tweek before stuffing his face with warm, honey covered pancakes. Tweek sits right next to him, taking a small bite of his own plate. The guilt had really done a number to his appetite.

Kenny seems to notice it. There’s eyebags beneath Tweek’s light eyes, lost in the void, in his thoughts. 

It’s no wonder, of course. Tweek was probably still mortified, and nothing Kenny could do to reassure him could really work. I mean, it’s not like Kenny himself was doing so much better.

Last night was… A mistake. One that he wouldn’t mind repeating, but also one that would most definitely ruin whatever is left of Kenny’s already broken heart.

He knew what he was getting into. Tweek’s mind was just so full of Craig, there was no place for anybody else. And if there was, it definitely wouldn’t be a place for Kenny of all people. There was very little someone like him could offer, because all he ever has had he had given away. Kenny lived his life for others, to please them, to make their lives slightly easier, everybody knows that. He himself had shattered his heart long ago, and he himself had handled every single shard away.

He chews on his pancakes with a smile, but he can’t even taste the honey. Maybe it’s for the best: He probably doesn’t deserve the fine things Tweek has to offer. All Kenny had ever done was bring misfortune Tweek’s way, and now destiny was making him pay.

“Did you text Karen good morning?” Tweek asks, catching Kenny’s attention again. “She must’ve been worried when you didn't go home last night.”

Kenny looks away, a bit embarrassed. Should he confess he had already sort of expected something like this to happen? “It’s fine. She went over to Butter’s home tonight.”

Tweek swallows his breakfast, feeling a bit nervous. He shouldn’t ask, but curiosity gets the best of him. “So… You two are pretty close, huh?”

Kenny takes in a deep breath, knowing this moment would eventually come.

It’s not like he’s a particularly secretive guy. He doesn’t share a lot, sure, but mainly because most people don’t give a shit to begin with. His only well-guarded secret this far has been Mysterion’s identity, and even that sometimes feels like too heavy of a responsibility on him. Kenny loves his friends and family very dearly: He’s died for them countless times. How could he bring himself to lie to them?

But he kind of had this general rule of not speaking about his past relationships. He has a reputation as a heartbreaker, as a dude who just gets around, and he’d rather upkeep it.

But when Tweek looks at him with those big eyes of his, how could he keep quiet?

“We dated, some time ago.” Kenny acknowledges, smiling through the painful memories. “Well, I thought we were dating. Butters was… Well. Poor guy is prone to misunderstandings, I guess. He just kind of assumed we were… Best friends or something.”

“For how long?”

“A little over a year.”

“Oh” Tweek seems genuinely surprised, and Kenny can’t really blame him. “That’s… A very long time.”

Kenny smirks, shrugging “Yeah, my longest relationship apparently wasn’t even a relationship to begin with. Ironic, isn’t it?” He takes the last bite of his breakfast, but he still can’t really taste anything other than his bitter feelings. “That’s kind of when I figured that this entire ‘dating’ thing was never meant for me, I guess.”

“I’m sorry, man. I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s fine.” Kenny interrupts, still sporting his boyish smile. “He’s happy now, and that’s all that matters.”

Tweek stares at Kenny’s. There’s a sense of defeat in his pretty face, stuck in this weird sense of contempt, almost as if he’s found comfort in his own misery, stranded in his loneliness. He remembers the hunger in Kenny’s hands as they grabbed at his body last night, he remembers the desperate way he whispered in his ear, asking for praises, for acknowledgment. 

Just how lonely was he?

“You can’t do this to yourself, Ken.” Tweek whispers, leaning in towards his friend (if that’s an appropriate term to use at this point), gently tugging a stray strand of strawberry blond hair behind his pierced ear. “You deserve to be happy, you know?”

Something in Kenny’s soft gaze flickers, vulnerability and longing intermixed in his pupils as he looks straight into Tweek’s eyes, making the shorter man’s heart skip a beat. Tweek is sure he’s never seen someone look this naked, this open, in his entire life.

Kenny sighs, closing his eyes for a couple seconds. It’s a bit too much. Finally having someone he can rely on, someone who pays him attention, who sees him for who he is and who makes a point to help him out through the dark and dirty. Someone this pretty, too, who just last night was staring up at him like he was the one and only love of his life, like the entire world revolved around Kenny.

But that’s just because he wasn’t staring at Kenny. It had been too good to be true.

“I know.” Kenny bitterly replies, already closing down again, putting on his perfectly practiced fake smile. “So, uhm, Craig kind of left you a voicemail. I guess he must’ve called while we were in the shower.”

Tweek’s face immediately changes, and for some reason that makes Kenny’s heart twist in jealousy. “He did what?”

“Yeah, I, uhm..” Kenny looks away. He knows he’s going to get it for this little mischief of his. “I might’ve texted him back in your stead.”

The short man pales, immediately reaching for his phone, fingers shaking a bit as he taps into Craig’s chatroom. He immediately shoots Kenny a glare that could’ve probably killed him on the spot. “Kenny.”

“Tweek.”

“Why would you do this?” Tweek asks, clearly freaking out. “Is this a date? I’m not-”

“It isn’t a date, Tweek. He asked you to hang out as friends, and I told him you’d love to. That’s it.” Kenny shrugs, trying his best to play it cool. “I thought it would be good for you.” 

Tweek’s eye twitches, and Kenny knows he’s pissed. “I could’ve replied myself.”

“Could you?”

Tweek looks away. “Maybe not in the amusement park. It’s- agh- it’s a dumb idea. It’ll feel like a date.”

Kenny sighs, slightly exasperated. “Look Tweek, if tonight has proven anything to us, it’s that clearly you’re still in love with Craig.” He says, trying his best not to sound as bitter as he feels. “And he clearly still likes you, so-”

“Just because we like each other it doesn’t mean we should date!” Tweek screams, clearly angry. “He’s not- He’s not like us, Kenny. He doesn’t know what we know, he hasn’t lived the kind of things we have. He’s not part of our world- and that’s for the best. I’d rather die than bring him down with me.”

“Craig isn’t a kid, Tweek.” Kenny replies, understanding Tweek’s point far too well. “If he thinks you’re worth trying, why not give him a chance?”

Tweek seems baffled by Kenny’s suggestion. “And what about me, huh? What happens to me, when the past repeats itself?” He shakes his head. “I survived it once, but I won’t go through this again, Kenny. I may love him, but that’s precisely why we can’t go back to what we were.”

There’s an awkward silence. Both of their words weigh heavily in the air, and for the first time, Kenny can’t come up with some snarky one-liner to alleviate the tension.

It had been a weird morning. Tweek clearly didn’t know how the hell he should react, not after what happened. He clearly lacked any previous experience, and the entire ‘Craig issue’ didn’t really help his case. He had spent the entire morning apologizing awkwardly, running away from Kenny’s gaze and touch, as if he just wasn’t ready to face his reality just yet.

His head today was just a mess. That kid had come back -although ‘kid’ would hardly describe him anymore-, his math test was obviously going to kick his ass, and he had messed up his one meaningful relationship in South Park.

He sighs, and Kenny looks at him with concern clear on his face.

No, it’s ok. Kenny didn't leave in the morning, and he wasn’t leaving now. He was still here, looking at him as tenderly as ever, putting his whole attention on Tweek.

Silently, Tweek takes what is left of his pancakes and puts it on Kenny’s plate, giving him an apologetic look.

“Sorry. It’s… It’s a bit weird.” Tweek acknowledges, awkwardly. “This whole thing, I mean.”

Kenny nods, a soft understanding smile forming on his lips. “It’s fine. I know this is new for you. But that’s why I’m here.”

Tweek breathes deeply, trying to find the proper words to organize his messy thoughts. He already feels his cheeks burning, his tongue twisting, his stomach knotting.  But as he lets go of all the air in his lungs, he manages to find the courage he needs.

It’s ok. It’s Kenny. If anybody out there isn’t going to judge him, it’s Kenny.

“So… What about us?” He finally asks. “What are we? What… What exactly happened last night?”

Kenny laughs. “You can’t pull that card, Tweek. You were completely sober- you know what happened last night.”

“That’s not what I mean.” Tweek corrects himself, still flustered. “I just…”

“We fooled around.” Kenny interrupts, seeing how Tweek is struggling to voice his thoughts. “We had some fun. At least I know I did- and I hope you did too.”

Tweek immediately reddens, twitching like he had years before. Kenny places a reassuring hand on his shoulder, and Tweek isn’t sure if his warmth is calming him down or driving him crazy. Then away, that’s what being near Kenny felt like as of late.

“I- I did. But that’s not the point.” The shorter man says. “I’ve never had this sort of… Relationship, before. I need to talk this through, Kenny. I don’t want there to be any misunderstandings between us.”

Tweek’s words bring an odd sense of comfort to Kenny. It may be stupid, but he feels slightly proud. He might be shy, he might be awkward, but at least Tweek is comfortable, and that’s enough for Kenny. 

He reaches over, cupping Tweek’s cheek against his palm. “I care about you, Tweek.” He whispers, sincerity obvious in his eyes, in his actions, in his tone. “That’s the most important thing of all. If you want what happened yesterday to repeat itself, then sure. You won’t hear me complaining. And if you want me to forget all that happened, if you want me to act like I was never here to begin with- I’ll give all those stars in Hollywood a run for their money..”

Tweek looks down, feeling guilt bloom in his chest one again. Is he being selfish? Is he being foolish? What’s the right thing to do, in a situation such as this one? And why does he want to do something different?

“I don’t want you to forget this, Kenny.” He speaks, uncertain, but sincere. “But… I don’t know. It feels wrong.”

Kenny braces himself for a deep conversation, wondering how he can make it less serious. He hates when his words feel too stale, too cheesy.

“Tweek, you’re a buddhist, right?” Tweek nods in response, finally establishing eye contact with a curious glint in his eye. “Yeah, so… I’m guessing you believe you’ll achieve something great when you let go of your cravings and stuff, right? I don’t think that part is too different from Catholics.”

Tweek definitely wasn’t expecting a surprise theology lesson, but he decides to follow Kenny’s lead. “Yeah. It’s the four truths: Life is full of suffering. We suffer because of our weaknesses. That’s why we must overcome attachment and cravings, and ascend.” He recalls words he had memorized years ago already. “What does this have to do with us fucking?”

Oh. That’s a crude word. It sounds so odd on Tweek’s lips that it makes Kenny let go of a breathy laugh. 

“Well, to crave something is human, Tweek.” Kenny explains with a sly smile that makes Tweek’s face grow hotter. “Sure, you can save up all the good things for when you’re dead or something, but… Is that the kind of life you want to lead? Waiting for death to come?”

Well, the morning after kind of sucks. It’s awkward, it’s a dull ache all through his body, it's full of regret and uncomfortable silences. But Tweek cannot deny that, even if it only lasted a couple hours, he had forgotten all of his worries so long as he had been in Kenny's arms. 

“I can’t tell you whether what we did is right or wrong. But I can tell you we liked it.” he takes in a deep breath before he keeps going. “You can keep on suffering, denying yourself what you want, but what would be the point? You’ll die, sooner or later, and you can’t be certain of what comes after.”

“I’m a buddhist, not a monk, Kenny. I’m not saying this because I want to ascend or some shit-” Tweek unexpectedly responds, his voice filled with a weird form of amusement. “I just don’t want to hurt you.”

“You’re not hurting me” Kenny lies, and God he looks so beautiful when he does it that Tweek pretends to believe him. “I don’t care if it’s him you think of when we are together.”

Tweek feels his heart ache, just looking at Kenny’s bittersweet smile. It doesn’t even reach his eyes. “It isn’t fair-”

Kenny tenderly takes Tweek’s hands in his, staring at him deep in the eyes with a warm gaze. “Tweek. You and I both know we aren’t the type to want or expect something out of a fairytale.” He shakes his head, softly, almost as in defeat. “We are just… Using each other to feel a little bit less lonely. And as long as we aren’t hurting anybody, who cares?”

´t´week detangles his hands from Kenny’s. “Why do you do this?”
“Do what?”

“You try to bring me and my ex back, and then you say all this stuff…”  Tweek runs his hands through his messy hair, tired, frustrated, confused. “Why? What do you want from me?”

“I just want you to be happy, Tweek.” Kenny answers, not having to think twice about it. “Whether it’s by Craig’s side as his boyfriend, or by my own as however you’ll call this, I just want you to get all the happiness you deserve.”

Tweek lets himself fall back onto the couch, pained, tired.  “I already told you, Kenny. You don’t need to feel responsible for me- what happened with my parents was out of your control.”

Kenny seems genuinely hurt by his words. “I’m not doing this because of that, Tweek. You should know that much.” He says, a bit more angrily than he probably should have. “I care about you. Do you really think I’d do anything like this out of pity?”

Tweek wants to argue, he really does. Nothing makes sense, not right now. But the way Kenny looks at him, so sincerely, so intimately… He just can’t help but believe his words. Is it wishful thinking? Is he falling into someone’s trap?

He doesn’t know. And right now, he doesn’t want to know.

Silently, he lies his head on Kenny’s shoulder, closing his eyes. Kenny seems to understand this as Tweek giving up any discussion they might have, and he smiles, breathing in the soft scent of Tweek’s shampoo.

It’s that feeling again. Like they are two people, locked in a dark room together, holding each other for their dear lives. Both castaways and life savers at the very same time. In this small town of South Park, where the impossible is everyone’s daily bread, only they could understand each other the way they did. Different as they are, Tweek and Kenny share similar scars, similar tales of broken pasts. 

Maybe that’s why it felt so good to be like this, together. So comfortable. Tweek’s anxious and generally pessimist nature balanced out Kenny’s nihilistic positivism. He made life look like something worth fighting for- and that is a new but welcomed feeling in Kenny’s life.

“Oh, did Wendy tell you about the Fine Arts students?” Kenny asks, breaking the silence after what feels like a small eternity.

“Not really.” Tweek admits, lazily closing his eyes for a second. Is this small talk? Kenny knows he doesn’t appreciate it.

“We might be asked to play again for their dumb festival.” The taller man replies, gesturing with his hands. Tweek realizes how well kept his nails are, for someone who works as hard as he does. “Apparently some kids for Denver are going to show up so now they want to pretend like South Park isn’t a shithole and we’ve actually got more than a couple theater students.”

Tweek’s face lights up a little bit. Normally, having to repeat a play might be too much pressure- but last time was so fun. He can’t help but look forward to it.