Well, hi there, everybody! Here I go, about to indulge in some shameless Creek bandwagon-ing. I know this ship has been alive and well for years but, of course, TweekxCraig became such a big thing last week and I figure I may as well jump on it while it's riding this wave. Hopefully it will turn into something good. And if not, it's still fun to try a new ship. Let me know what you think. This will most eventually become NSFW in places but we'll just have to see what the coming chapters bring.
Prologue: Tweek
Every year it had to happen.
Weeks of agitated anticipation for the unsavoury occurrence that always came around in early fall was always a dreaded mark on the calendar. Ominous days filled with absent-mindedly grinding his teeth, pulling at his hair or uncontrollable jittering whilst simply trying to function as any regular human always preceded the unwelcome morning that always came just as the leaves were beginning to change. Any hope of sleep the night before was all but a fantasy despite trying endlessly to lull himself into even an hour or so of blessed slumber. That was never going to have happened though. Experience could have told him that. As the sluggish minutes had pushed ever-slowly onwards into hours the sun eventually rose on the loathsome morning and he knew there was no escaping what was to come. From then the incessant twitching which had become such a well-ingrained part of his character didn't take long to begin.
As if set to a timer, the normal pangs of anxiety began to creep into his strained consciousness as he had lay in bed waiting for the morning light to force him from his safe, warm blankets. Any time there was something that filled him with apprehension he would always be awake several hours before the time came for him to have to spite his better instincts and leave his bed to face whatever it was that seemed to signal his impending doom. It was just the way he was and, as far as he could remember, was simply the way he always had been.
He had always been that weird kid that sat jittering and occasionally bursting out with a strained cry or wild exclamation of some kind. Well, that wasn't entirely true. He had always been pretty jumpy and agitated but its severity was always mediated by the situation. That was to say that there were days when things just seemed unmanageable and he would practically bounce off the walls from the pressure. Other days he would be able to keep calm and keep the anxiety under wraps. Lots of things would dictate how any particular day would go but generally he had been able to find ways of keeping himself from exploding at every little thing that threatened to tip him off of his perch.
Today there was no chance of those methods being completely effective and he knew that as soon as he got out of his bed there was no turning back. Hell, it wasn't really as if he had a choice. These appointments were always going to have to happen and if he decided he just couldn't manage to go then it would only be pushed to some other time and cause him even more worry as he waited. He just had to get it over with and deal with the fallout in whatever way he could manage.
Hearing the faintest bump emanate from somewhere in the house, he knew his mother must have gotten up and that the day's events were now set in motion. It was not something that helped as he tried to mediate the mounting need to shudder as he lay there staring up at the ceiling and he could already feel himself beginning to grit his teeth as thoughts of what he was going to have to talk about began to nag at him. He hated having to delve down into his psyche. He hated having to discuss the way he felt and things that had recently happened in his life with people who seemed to have no right to such information. He hated having to find out about things that were written about him by teachers and counsellors that to them appeared to warrant referral to someone who dealt with crazy people professionally. Who were they to say he needed to have everything he did broken down and analysed by teams of apparently-qualified people who would only tell him the same things he had heard hundreds of times before. He knew he was fucked up. He knew he was some kind of weird, twitchy freak who only by the grace of God had managed to make it this far in life. He knew he had no real way to control some of the things he did despite years of wishing and desperately trying to force himself to be normal. It was just the way he was and he knew he was never going to change. No therapist or doctor or whoever was going to be able to do that. He was damaged beyond repair and, wait-… no, he had never been functioning to begin with, or at least that's what he figured. He had always been a twitchy little nutcase and no amount of trying by any doctor was going to set that right.
With the mounting pressure that seemed to well up inside his head from overthinking and struggling to keep a handle on his nerves, he found himself fighting to keep it from letting itself out. Forcing his mouth to stay closed to prevent any explosive chirps of dread escape and plastering his fists to his sides to keep them from tugging at his hair, he found himself beginning to roll around in his sheets as he tried to focus. This only served to make things worse as it mixed with his exhausted state of mind from the night's lack of sleep. Why did he have to be this way? Why couldn't he handle pressure like everyone else instead of letting it mount up and crush him? Why did he always turn into a jittering, whining mess that was always only a breath away from going into a complete mental breakdown? Why was he always such a goddamn fucking freak?!
The stress that now seemed to be pouring thick and fast into his mind was only halted when he heard a faint but distinctive buzz resonate from his nightstand. Turning his head to its side he stared across the short expanse of bed that lay between him and the small table next to it to see the bright, white light of his phone's screen lit up and signalling outside contact. With a somewhat-steady hand he reached out from his sheet-cocoon of turmoil to grasp for it and slowly he brought it over to where he could see what was waiting for him. The little box on the screen showed the name Craig Tucker at the top before the message began underneath.
In an instant, it felt as if a wave of comfort and relief washed over him as he read the few short words that waited for him there:
"No matter what they say today, you don't need to change. You're perfect."
With a gulp and a deep breath, he let the phone fall to his chest and closed his eyes as he settled back down on his mattress. He had no idea how it was possible but simple words like those from that boy always seemed to suddenly block out all of his anxiety and fear. In fact, it was better than that. They were simply obliterated and all that seemed to remain was a feeling of safety, contentment and the knowledge that he was loved. More to the point, despite being sure of his own weirdness and wishing most of the time he could just be normal, words like those made him feel accepted just as he was. Forget the weirdness, the strangeness, the jitteriness, the crazy outbursts, the things that most people would avoid him for. No matter how nuts he considered himself, he was perfect. A perfect being in the eyes of Craig and that was what made him feel like he could carry on through all of the unrest that made up his tortured mind. Despite mountains of fear and a wish that he could just escape it all that followed him around most days, it was all held at bay when he remembered he was accepted by someone. He wasn't a weirdo. He wasn't an alien. He wasn't a freak or a monster or some kind of lunatic. He was someone that mattered to someone else, even if he didn't matter to himself. He was Tweek Tweak and he was wonderful.
Taking a second to swim in this sudden but surely temporary serenity, he allowed his head to roll over on its side as he opened his eyes to look out across his room. Not much had changed in there over the past few years and even though he was now pushing 18, everything in his room remained much as it had been when he was several years younger. The colour of the walls hadn't changed since he was a kid. The same furniture that had always been there remained in the same places. Aside from a change in posters on the walls and the things he used on a daily basis, everything had remained pretty much unchanged.
All of his stuff remained in various forms of disarray around the room although he liked to think he had gotten better in recent years in keeping it all in order. Perhaps it came from regularly stepping on Lego over the years that finally made him figure that at least clear floor space was something to try and maintain. He'd had tons of Lego and, to his knowledge, he'd never gotten rid of any of it. It used to really help him concentrate and even now as he teetered on the edge of adulthood, he still spent a little time every now and then just absent-mindedly playing with it. He found it funny that something he used to do as a kid still proved so useful to his older self. Keeping the Lego tidy though was something he'd come to learn was necessary. Those little plastic bricks used to get everywhere when he was younger and it is a universally acknowledged truth that they are the most painful thing that can ever be stepped on with bare feet. So, indeed, his room had become more orderly in some ways but still remained disordered in others. Kind of like him as a person really. It was nice to think that his room reflected him so well. Perhaps that was one of the things that helped him remember there were familiar places he could feel safe. In here he knew where everything was and everything that could possibly happen to him. Well, for the most part. There had been times when he hadn't felt so secure in that room. Nowadays it seemed, however, the things that used to cause him unrest such as the Underpants Gnomes or child abductors may have just been his imagination. It was hard to say since so many ridiculous things seemed to go on in the town of South Park but thankfully things in his home seemed to have become a little less nuts in recent years, even if he himself remained perpetually messed up. Not having to worry about anything unexpected really helped when he was having a tough day trying to handle the pressures of life and at least in here he could attempt to forget about all of it.
That being said, no fortress is completely impenetrable and as he continued to move his gaze across his room his eyes inevitably fell on the faintly glowing display of the digital clock on his nightstand. Neon green numbers silently displayed "8:12" and suddenly the cloud he had been laying on disappeared and plummeted him back into terror.
"OH JESUS!" he shrieked before bolting up out of bed and tearing across the room in a panic. Taking a moment to jitter back and forth he did his best to articulate any kind of plan for getting ready on time and, without thinking, his hands found their way into his hair and began to tug. It was something he always did when he was severely stressed out and although he hadn't actually yanked out any clumps of the messy, golden-blonde mess in recent years, it had indeed been known to happen when he was younger and threatened to happen again every time he found himself pulling.
Forcing his hands to release their grip he closed his eyes and groaned whilst trying to focus his energy.
Clothes! That was what he needed!
In an instant he tore open his eyes and bolted for his dresser in search of something that could make him look at least half presentable although most of the time it never really seemed to matter. No matter how hard he tried he always seemed to end up looking only half decent and that was simply one more thing he had to deal with on a daily basis. People had teased him in the past, after all wasn't it kind of a given that gays are meant to look fashionable and cool all the time? He hadn't even considered such a concept until one day when he'd heard some rather cutting comments as he'd passed some cheerleaders in the hall. He'd felt pretty flat for a little while afterwards but it was more the worry of what else they may have been saying about him behind his back that really got to him. Not that being gay was a big deal in South Park anymore. The town had been through who knew how many ridiculous social awakenings of one kind or another and by that point everyone was pretty numbed to the idea of other peoples' differences. He'd never even really taken on the label of 'gay' in his own mind. To be honest, he'd never felt that he'd had some sudden awakening and come bursting out of the closet as he expected perhaps he should have done. He had never figured he'd needed to since he'd always given himself the label of 'weirdo' and hadn't spent much extra time analysing himself. He didn't feel he'd needed to. Still, it was hard for him to feel like he couldn't even do his own sexuality right. It was just one more thing that had put him on edge to add to the ever growing list of reasons for not being able to handle life's pressures. Being 'gay' though was a logical label for him. Even if he didn't really think of himself as gay he figured he just fell into the category anyway, like being 'white' or 'male' or 'mentally fucked'. Perhaps that last one was a stretch but it still seemed just as valid a category for him to fall into as gayness. He liked boys, or more specifically one boy in particular and that's the way it had been since puberty had set in. He'd never needed to question it. He'd had more important things on his mind, like trying not to be a total basket case.
Being a basket case never really seemed to matter to Craig though.
Craig was awesome. Craig was perfect. Craig was everything Tweek wished he could be. He was cool. He was interesting. He was kind of bad boy that on the outside who didn't really seem to give a crap about anything. He was the type that seemed to get into trouble at school on a daily basis but it never really seemed to faze him. Of course, Tweek knew him far too well to know that was true, but it was still something he loved about him. Tweek knew that on the inside Craig could be pretty sweet, although there was no chance that he would ever let it show except to those closest to him. Whether he wanted it or not, Craig had an image and it was one that he just seemed to express to anyone who saw him without really seeming to try. He was so distinctive as a person and despite his pretty difficult upbringing he still somehow seemed to turn out as an awesome guy. On the inside he was genuinely kind. He was caring. And the best thing about him by far in Tweek's mind was that the two of them were together and had been together for years.
That in itself seemed quite an achievement on Tweek's part as he never figured he'd be able to hang onto anyone in a romantic way. Perhaps it was because they'd felt kind of obligated to be together since they were like…10 or something? Neither of them could really remember. It had all started back then though and somehow they had just seemed to develop their relationship from there. The exact point at which they had developed from good friends to genuine boyfriends wasn't clear but it didn't really matter. The fact was that they had now been official, out-and-proud, seriously-dating boyfriends for years and it was definitely something that Tweek wore like a badge of honour. More importantly, Craig was his rock. Whenever he felt everything was just becoming too much, Craig was always there to make him feel safe and secure. In an instant his anxiety would fade, his jitteriness and jumpiness would stop and whether it was real or not, he could feel normal when he was with him. That was the greatest thing about Craig: he made him feel normal. He made him feel loved.
"Tweek?" he heard his mother call from behind his closed bedroom door. How had she snuck up so silently?! "Sweetie? Are you awake?"
"AAH! Yes, mom!" he struggled to call back. "I'm getting dressed!"
"Okay, dear. Coffee's ready downstairs. Better get a move on, we have to leave soon"
"JEEZ! Okay, I'll be out in a second!"
Fuck! How long had he been thinking about Craig? Whipping his head around he shot a glare at the clock on his nightstand and saw that the time was now 8:21. Damn it! He did that so much! One of the ways he dealt with freaking out was to find a quiet, calm place in his mind and more often than not that was to think about Craig. Sometimes a train of thought could distract him and lead him to somewhere pretty far away from what he had been doing. It usually cost him more time than he wanted and right now he was definitely running behind.
Delving into the dresser he pulled out whatever came to hand and somehow managed to throw it on his body in a few short moments. His jitters were certainly starting to take their toll today and unfortunately they resulted in him buttoning up his shirt incorrectly – not at all a very uncommon occurrence for him. Without taking the time to check or run a comb through his hair he left his room, knowing he had to get some coffee in him to try and steady his fraught nerves.
Ahh coffee. That glorious, wonderful elixir that was both his greatest hero and worst enemy. He'd been drinking the beautiful beverage for longer than he could remember and he knew it certainly contributed to his impulsivity and hyperactivity. After all, he may have been akin to a jack-in-the-box on meth but he wasn't an idiot. Still, somehow it seemed to help him concentrate and even though it took virtually gallons of the stuff nowadays to even have the slightest effect it was one of his few saving graces in this terrifying world. Even better, it was practically religion in his house and it seemed there wasn't a single member of his family who didn't swear by it. Whether it was the cause behind his parents running a coffee shop or if the coffee shop had been a driving factor in turning his family into caffeine junkies – he didn't care. All he knew was that there was an uninterrupted supply of coffee into their home and that suited him just fine. If there was a word stronger than 'addiction' he didn't know, but that's what he had. Apparently kids like him were more prone to have addictive personalities, or at least that's what the apparently-trustworthy people he was going to see today would say. Oh, well. Who cares? Fuck them!
The short walk downstairs to the kitchen didn't seem to help too much with steadying his nerves but the scent of fresh brew certainly took a good stab at it. As soon as he entered the room he made a beeline for the pot that sat under the coffeemaker and didn't even acknowledge his dad who sat at the table with the newspaper whilst sipping his own enormous cup of joe.
"Morning, son" he said cheerily whilst clearly keeping his attention focussed on the paper.
"NNG! Good morning!" squeaked Tweek as he shakily poured himself a cup.
"Feeling alright today?" the man said without turning his gaze.
"Fine"
"Fine" he repeated pensively before taking a sip of his java, "fine like the soft grains of sand on an untouched beach on a warm summer's day, or-"
"GAH! Dad!" spurted Tweek with a cringe, "not yet, man! I can't take the metaphors this early!"
Tweek's dad just chuckled, "Just getting warmed up, son. Customers love it"
Tweek just screwed his eyes shut and took a long drink of the hot beverage in his hands. Sweet Jesus, it was good. Like that first drag on a cigarette in the morning or heroin coursing through a junkie's vein after plunging down on a syringe. Admittedly he wasn't quite as good with the metaphors as his dad but he certainly felt honest. At least, that's what he figured. He'd never even touched drugs aside from the meds he'd been prescribed over and over again to try and get his anxiety under wraps. He always gave up on those though as soon as they seemed to stop working. Despite being told to persist, something in his mind always told him there was no use in beating a dead horse. No matter which ones he tried they never seemed to work for very long. Some would really perk him up and make his jitters go into overdrive, and some would practically turn him into a stoner. None, however, really seemed to put him somewhere in the middle so he could feel like a normally functioning person. That, and Craig never liked him taking them. He always said they changed him and Tweek knew that if taking a pill was going to upset the one thing, or rather person, that he knew was effective in controlling his screwiness then he was sure as hell going to swear off of it before anyone could ask why. Since that was the case, he'd amassed quite a collection of unopened prescription bottles in his closet upstairs. He'd never really known what to do with them and hiding them away had in the past had shown to provoke far fewer questions than throwing them in the trash.
Lifting his head back up away from the cup and swallowing, he sat silently for a moment as he felt the hot liquid spill down his throat. He knew it wouldn't be long before this wonder-drug took effect and after only a few moments came the very familiar and very welcome period he experienced every morning between when the anxiety jitters stopped and the caffeine jitters kicked in. Of course, the former would eventually rear its ugly head once again and spend the rest of the day hand in hand with the latter and potentially turning him into a complete wreck if he didn't keep tabs on himself. However, for that roughly fifteen minutes every morning between that first sip when the caffeine kicked in he could enjoy just a few moments of calmness and actually think without his anxiety or hyperactivity disrupting it.
Taking a deep breath, he allowed his body to relax and looked out across the kitchen to see his mom entering with her coat and purse over her arm.
"Are you nearly ready to go, sweetie?" she chirped cheerily as she searched for her keys and pottered about doing mom stuff.
"You know, I can go by myself. I'm not a baby" Tweek replied rather calmly, taking advantage of the lucid interval he found himself in to speak with proper measure.
"Well, I just want to make sure you get there, dear"
"Why? Because I'm a flight risk?"
"Well…no. Just in case I'm needed" she said quietly but with a tone that very clearly said 'You're darn right, you are!'
"Fine" Tweek grumbled before taking another sip. He knew it wasn't worth starting an argument about it. When it came to these appointments he wasn't going to be given any chance to escape. His dad perked up,
"Fine. Fine like the freshly ground Arabica beans hand-chosen by our-"
"JESUS, MAN!" he cried and managing only just to hold back a convulsion over the cringe worthy drivel his dad was once again about to spout about coffee. "Let's just get out of here!"
With that he downed the remainder of his still far-too-hot coffee and headed for the door. It didn't take long for him to grab his coat, get his shoes on the right feet and then head out of the front door leaving his mom to scramble after him as he headed out to the car. Snow crunched under his feet as he headed towards the nondescript silver sedan in the driveway and jumped into the passenger side. He rolled his eyes as he sat there and waited for his mom to emerge from the house as well and knowing it was probably going to be a few minutes before she was completely ready. Letting his head fall back against the headrest he closed his eyes and sighed as he thought about the charade he was about to go through. Every time it was the same thing. He'd be trotted in, sat down in front of the same idiot he'd seen every year since he was 11 and asked about how he was FEELING. Then he'd try and tell him what was wrong with him as if he had no idea and then be told to try a new pill or go for more therapy. Goddamn, it was so fucking stupid! Nothing ever changed and nothing ever would so why didn't they just Xerox his file from last year. Or six months ago. Or whenever the hell it was he'd last had to go. He couldn't remember. It seemed like he'd been through so damn much throughout his life that they all just blended into one.
After a few moments of silent grief he remembered the text message he'd received that morning and immediately went for his phone in his pocket. Flicking through the various screens he made his way to the message and read it to himself once again:
"No matter what they say today, you don't need to change. You're perfect."
He smiled to himself weakly as he tried to find that sense of relief once again. It was hard this time though as now the time to get it over with was drawing near. Already he could hear all of reasons he was going to be told why he was definitely not perfect and in fact, really, really fucked up. He knew he should just try to ignore it but if he did then he knew his parents would get pretty pissed with him for not taking the session seriously. And so, he knew he'd also have to either blindly agree to being told why he was broken and useless or try and fight his corner only to be shot back down. Was it even worth trying? After all, they'd made up their minds that he was a disordered little runt that needed to be fixed and perhaps it would just be easier to let them think they were getting through. Perhaps he should let them. He was definitely fucked up and he wanted to change. Maybe he should just let them pump him full of whatever meds they wanted and allow himself to slip into a numb, quiet, less vibrant world where he might just manage to not be a total spaz.
But then there was Craig. His amazing, brilliant Craig that made him feel like the most important person in the world. How could he possibly allow himself to fall into some grey, drug-fuelled fantasy land and risk losing the connection he shared with his man? He loved Craig. He needed Craig. He couldn't bear the thought of changing and pushing him away. Would Craig even go away if he did end up whacked out pills? Or would he stay and fight to find him again? Tweek didn't know, and in fact he knew that even after having known Craig for pretty much his entire life there were still so many things he didn't know about him. Was that exciting or was it worrying?
Looking down at the message again, he read it through slowly and tried desperately to hold onto it in his mind. Letting his lips spread into a small but unmistakable smile, he decided he didn't care.
Every day of his life he felt as if he were teetering on the edge of a complete, cataclysmic mental breakdown and some days it felt as if nothing was going to stop him from plummeting over that cliff. He'd always lived with the threat of it all becoming too much and on occasion he'd desperately wished he could just escape it all. He didn't really knew what that actually meant and it was a road he'd always avoided going down. He didn't want to think what he might actually need to do in order to escape everything and he'd always felt it would be better to let sleeping dogs lie. Fortunately he'd found a bunch of distractions from those feelings of wanting out at various points in his life and the greatest of all was Craig. Through all of the torment and strife, Craig was the sure-fire answer to his problems. He was the one holding him back from that cliff's edge and some days the only thing standing between him and what seemed like oblivion. Was it wrong to put that kind of responsibility on someone, even if they didn't really know it?
Oh well. Who cares? He was already fucked up. How much more could this hurt?
He knew he wasn't perfect, but Craig thought he was. That was all he needed to feel okay.
Prologue: Craig
How old do you have to be to say "I'm getting too old for this crap"?
Lying awake in his bed with his eyes closed and having just put his phone down, Craig did his best to will himself into waking up. That was a pretty tall order though when you'd been acting as your boyfriend's emotional safety net for the past however many weeks it had been.
Dealing with severe anxiety can be pretty draining, but sometimes when that anxiety is someone else's it can be even harder. That was his life though, and he'd be lying if said it was constantly this bad.
Tweek had always been jittery. There was no arguing with that. Occasionally though there were periods like these when trying to keep him calm was like trying to keep a candle lit whilst carrying it through a carwash. These times were a struggle and he looked forward to when the morning's events were finally over and his boyfriend could go back to quietly simmering instead of boiling over. He had long been Tweek's security blanket for times like these when the pressure was really mounting and he'd come to be able to deal with it as healthily as he could. The worst times when Tweek became nearly inconsolable were fairly rare and most of the time you could barely tell when he was feeling jittery. Unless, of course, you knew the tell-tale signs. There were times like these though when it really became difficult to put up with his anxiety and hyperactivity and it became a struggle to know that he was perhaps the one thing standing in the way of Tweek and complete despair. That was a pretty big responsibility for a high school senior and not one he was completely sure he had willingly accepted.
A sudden rapping on his door jerked him several degrees closer to full consciousness and with a sneer he looked across the room from his bed towards the insulting noise.
"Craig! Get up, boy!" came his father's gruff voice. He didn't have the energy to produce a snide comeback to the moody blowhard of a man and so slowly set about hoisting his heavy, toned body out of bed.
"Did you hear me, young man?! Get your ass up and get ready for school!"
"Christ! Okay!" he shot back to the closed door. His answer seemed to be enough to shift his dad from the other side and send him to somewhere else in the house. Rolling his eyes and letting out a frustrated breath, he sat on the edge of his bed and sleepily ran his hand through his black bed-head. It was tough having an insomniac for a boyfriend as it meant he was practically on duty 24/7 if the other boy needed to talk. In the stressful periods, that turned out to be quite a lot and he was very aware that his sleep deficit was mounting. Hopefully after today he could convince Tweek to let him catch up on some shut-eye. After all, he figured he deserved it after all of the late night comforting. It made him feel good to know he was really helping his boyfriend get through his strife, but it was really hard work sometimes and something he wished he didn't have to deal with so much.
Oh, well. Perhaps that was just the give and take of an adult relationship – if that was what this was. If he wanted the good, he'd have to take the bad, even if the bad sometimes felt like he was trying to disarm an atomic bomb.
Forcing himself up from his mattress, he wandered slowly towards his door in nothing but his boxer shorts and pulled it open. Lurching out into the hall still somewhere between sleep and wakefulness, he pushed onwards towards the bathroom. As usual, when he got there and turned the handle, he found it to be locked and let out a grunt of frustration before resting his forehead against the wood.
"Damn it, Ruby!" he shouted to his sister on the other side who had become quite the image-obsessed teenage girl in recent months. "Move your ass, would ya?"
"Wait your damn turn!" she hollered back making Craig grimace. He didn't have the energy to carry out a fully-fledged argument this morning so he simply left his head where it was as he waited for his annoying sibling to be done.
After a minute or two the door was pulled open to reveal his overly-made up sister accompanied by a choking cloud of hairspray and perfume. Looking up to begrudgingly meet her gaze and coughing a little as he took a lungful of the fumes, he found her staring back with a half-surprised, half-disgusted look about her.
"Oh God! Eww! I don't wanna see any of that! Put some damn clothes on, would you?"
Standing there in nothing but a pair of white boxer shorts, he silently flipped her off and pushed forward into the bathroom, lazily barging past the girl who echoed his sentiments with her own raised middle finger. She left without saying another word. The Tucker family were the masters of the silent flip-off, the gesture having become the go-to response for many occasions when words were in short supply. When the door closed behind him, he stood for a second in front of the bathroom mirror just staring at himself and trying to make sense of the image before him. Faint dark circles surrounded his eyes and his hair was a complete mess. He looked pretty scruffy and could see his Tweek-related duties were taking their toll. It was at that moment though that he felt a smile crack his stoic, sleepy face and he had to chuckle to himself. He looked like a Craig-version of what Tweek looked like every day and it felt kind of sweet to have a little bit of his jumpy boyfriend stare back at him.
Despite all his faults and the amount of energy it took handling that explosive blondie, he still really cared for him and he made him feel pretty special. Most of the time it felt like the support in their relationship was all very much one-way, but he knew that wasn't the case. Family life for Craig wasn't a total thrill ride and having somewhere and someone to go to and make him feel better when things got tough was a real blessing. That, and it was nice having someone so special. Someone who cared for him as much as he cared for them. Someone who knew him better than anyone else. Someone who was excited just to be with him and who occupied so many of his thoughts. Some who looked up to him and idolized him. Someone who made him feel like a hero. Someone he…loved?
In an instant, that good feeling was dampened by that grizzly question that had been plaguing him ever more frequently as of late. Tweek loved him. He knew that. Tweek had loved him for who knew how long and he loved that Tweek loved him. The problem though was that he'd never really thought about love. He'd always just figured he and Tweek were together, it felt good and that was all there was to it. There had never really been more to think about and yet…now it seemed there was.
Did he love Tweek? He was supposed to, right? They'd been in that relationship long enough and felt so strongly for each other that love was surely a given, right? What did love even really feel like? Sure, Tweek was really special and he loved being with him. In fact, he was the only person he'd put everything aside for just so he could be with him. They'd done so much together. They made each other laugh. They'd had so many awesome experiences together and gotten through so many bad ones without breaking up – mostly Tweek's difficult episodes. They had plenty of sex. They had been each other's firsts and had gotten to know each other's bodies so well that screwing around was always pretty great. Being naked and pressed up against each other felt so special and was a feeling like no other he'd ever experienced. He wanted to be with Tweek and didn't want to lose the bond they shared and yet still the question burned…did he love him?
Love was supposed to be when your heart beats only for one person, wasn't it? It was supposed to be when they're the reason you draw breath and you want to shout about how much they mean to you, right? He wasn't totally sure those feelings were there though. Where they should have been he found only uncertainty and, looking himself in the eye in the mirror, he bit his lip apprehensively as he struggled with that feeling that made his stomach feel heavy. There was supposed to be no question over whether he was in love with that scrappy, whirlwind of a boy that filled up his thoughts and to whom he had devoted a great deal of his life. There was the problem though. He'd devoted pretty much the last seven years to him and there had arisen a nagging sensation in the back of his mind that kept asking "Is that all there is?"
He felt pretty crappy about that. After all, he had all he could ever need with Tweek. Someone that was devoted to him and would do just about anything for him. And yet, they'd been together for so long and he'd only ever experienced the parts of the life that deal with dating, love and sex with him. He'd been wondering for a while now if there was more that he was missing. After all, he didn't really have any kind of reference to work off of. All he'd known in that regard was Tweek and, although that was wonderful, he just couldn't help wondering what there was to see and feel with others. Was there more? Could there be much more? He didn't know, but try as he might to ignore those new feelings, he couldn't help but wonder. And still, the most important question remained on top of all of it: Did he love Tweek?
Why was it so hard to simply say yes or no?
God, he was a bastard! How could he be thinking about things like that? Tweek was great! He felt like a traitor for even allowing himself to mull these things over.
Looking away from himself and shaking his head, he cleared those troubling thoughts and turned on the shower. Slipping off his boxers and jumping under the warm water he did his best to wash out the birds nest that was his hair and encourage his body to come to life. Perhaps he could also wash those burdensome feelings away as well and, with a little luck, perhaps they would stay away for a while.
However, if recent experience was anything to go by, it wouldn't be long before they found their way back.
Tweek
Sitting silently in the waiting room, Tweek did his best not to let any groans or yelps escape from his mouth. His jitters had come back as soon as they'd arrived at the hospital and they'd really flown into full swing when they'd gotten to the door and he'd read the sign:
'Dr. Mitchell O'Neill MD. Psychiatric Services'
He was always majorly on-edge whenever he crossed over the threshold into the doctor's waiting room as he had always wondered if they had hidden cameras watching him. He never mentioned that during his sessions though. He didn't want them to think he was even more nuts than they already knew. He knew they thought he was a total loony and he didn't want to give them a final reason to send him off to the loony bin. He had to try and be normal whilst in here although there was a good chance that his stupid body or brain was going to betray him.
Whilst his mom had set about filling in some forms on his behalf he hadn't wasted any time in heading over to the machine in the corner of the waiting room and vending some swill that resembled coffee. God, it was gross! It would have to do for now though. Only about a minute or so went by before he'd downed the entire cup and was heading up for another.
By the time he was on his fifth or sixth, he decided any more would probably tip him over the edge into some place where he couldn't control his jitters with sheer willpower. He'd already wound himself up enough during the past week or so. Now they wanted to release him and watch him go like a toy race car. Well, he wasn't going to willingly let them have the satisfaction. He had to fight to stay calm. Or whatever calm meant for him.
"Tweek?"
"GAH!" he suddenly yelped as he was snapped out of focussing on relaxation. Looking across the room with wide eyes and an unmistakeable tremor, he saw the warm, smiling face of the psychiatrist he'd been seeing since he was a kid. "AH! Hi, Dr. O'Neill" he spouted before noticeably twitching a few times. So much for trying to hide his nerves.
"How you doing, buddy?" the doctor said as he came over to shake Tweek's hand.
"Fine" he managed to reply and knowing there was absolutely no chance that his outward appearance was going to express the same sentiment.
"Good, good. And Mrs. Tweak, so nice to see you again" the tall doctor carried on as he turned to the smiling woman next to Tweek. The two began their idle chit-chat as they usually did whilst he simply sat there and waited to be hauled into the room where it would be just the doctor and him.
'Just relax' he thought as he stared down at the floor and tried to control his breathing. There wasn't anything new about any of this. He'd done it so many times before and he knew that he just had to get through it. Just an hour yet and he'd be free for another year or so.
Reaching into his pocket as his mom and the doctor continued to chat he pulled out his phone hoping there might be something else from Craig waiting for him. He was left feeling a little let down when there was nothing but the empty lock screen staring back at him and quietly placed it back in his pocket. Oh well. At least he still had the message he'd received earlier that morning to keep him company despite how its effectiveness seemed to be waning. He couldn't wait to get out of here and get back to his boyfriend. He just wanted to be with someone who wouldn't make him feel like a freak. Someone who could let him feel normal at least for a little while.
At least he had that evening to look forward to. Craig and his best friends, Token and Clyde, had promised to take him out somewhere to help him forget about all of the mess he was going through. It gave him a lot of relief to know that that was his reward for the past weeks' anguish. Still, he couldn't help feel a little guilty about having forced them all to share in his turmoil. When it wasn't Craig keeping him under control, it was usually one of those two and he always felt sort of guilty whenever he was acting up. Not that he could help it, but he wasn't so self-centred that he wasn't concerned for their well-being as well. In fact, he cared much more about them not getting overly annoyed with his anxiety than keeping tabs on himself. Ultimately it all proved rather circular. He would become overly anxious, his friends would try and help, he would feel guilty about them having to look after him, he would become more anxious, and so on. It really was a crap deal for everyone involved but he tried to make himself remember that they were happy to do it, or at least it seemed they were. He figured he must have won the life lottery to actually find friends that would go so far to keep him sane, especially considering how much of a crackpot he saw himself as. They were really cool, and certainly another couple of saving graces for his topsy-turvy mind.
"Okay, well, we can't carry on like this all day" he heard to doctor say, snapping him out of his focus. "Ready when you are, buddy"
'Fuck you, Dr. O'Neill!' he thought to himself. 'I'm not your buddy! I know what your game is, man! I know what you're trying to do!'. He knew he was going to be analysed like some strange bacterium under a microscope, as if the doctor was going to try and decide whether or not he posed a threat to society. 'Well, not today, asshole!' He had to step up now and try to force himself to behave. Even if he was going to go down in flames, he wasn't going to go without a fight.
"Let's do this!" he said with conviction before hopping up and walking as stoically as he could into the waiting office.
Craig
"Hey, man." Craig said as he fell into Token's car.
"'Sup?" replied the cheery-as-always boy that sat in the driver's seat. "How's it going?"
Craig just gave him a half-hearted stare and Token could see he looked pretty haggard. He knew Tweek had been draining him recently and he returned the sleepy gaze with a gentle smile before turning away and pulling the Mercedes away from the curb.
The two drove in silence to the end of the street before Token piped up again as he made the turn in the direction of their school.
"You wanna go through the drive-thru or anything? You look like you could use some coffee"
Craig huffed. "Nah. Let's just go. I think I might sleep through math anyway"
"You really think you can afford to?" Token teased, receiving a raised middle finger in reply. "I'm just saying, man, it couldn't hurt to pay attention every now and then"
"What are you? A guidance counsellor suddenly?"
"Hey, senior year, man. Grades matter this year"
"Meh. I'll be…fine…probably…"
"You even planning on going to college?"
"I…I, yeah…I guess…" was all Craig could reply with as he stared out of the window. Token watched him for a moment before looking back at the road and could tell something was up. The two had been friends for years and he could always tell when something was bothering him. Much of the time Craig would come to him with his problems instead of Tweek as he knew his boyfriend couldn't always handle it. That, and the two just seemed to click really well. They got each other and could always figure out what the other needed to hear.
"Something up?" Token asked, already knowing the answer.
"Nah"
"Is it Tweek?"
"Nothing's up"
"It's okay to say he's getting to you. Hell, I'm pretty sure even he would be okay with you admitting it"
Craig just sat silently for a moment. Yes, it definitely was Tweek, or rather the same stupid thoughts that had been bugging him lately. Did he really want to farm this out someone else though?
"It's…nothing" Craig replied before abruptly changing the subject to talking about anything other than Tweek. Token just rolled his eyes knowingly and carried on driving. It was never a good idea to push Craig. After all, he didn't want to end up in a fight. A fight with Craig always usually escalated to some degree of violence as he had never been particularly good at vocalizing his grievances. Not that such a fight would ever really threaten their friendship but Craig had never been one to readily open up about his problems, or at least not about the more serious ones. If someone wanted him to open up, they had to let him do it in his own time. Otherwise a fist would probably be heading in their direction before long.
It wasn't long before the two of them pulled into the high school parking lot and began to get out. All around them were the cars of other students and their occupants lazily making the Monday morning march towards the large building up ahead. Here and there were various friendship groups idly chatting or just staving off entering the school for as long as they could. It was pretty cold out here though and it was clear that most had opted for the warmth of the indoors. With a fatigued sigh, Craig heaved his backpack out of the foot well and closed his door before turning and looking up at the school as he waited for Token. School had only started a few weeks beforehand but already it was getting tough. Token was right, this year did matter and he did want to do well. After all, the next step after this was college and he really wanted to get into a good school. Having a boyfriend so jittery though was an added pressure that he could probably do without.
Oh God! What an awful thought! Was he seriously thinking about whether life would be that much easier without Tweek? Did he honestly think that-…Oh, fuck it. Of course he was thinking about it. There was no use in pretending to himself that he wasn't. It may have been the cause of a lot of internal conflict for him lately but he sure as hell wasn't the kind of guy to lie to himself.
'Just try and forget about it' he thought as he reached up and rubbed his eyes and then, succumbing slightly to the strain, ran his hand through his hair and sighing exasperatedly. Turning round to look at Token, he was met with the sight of his friend looking at him with a look that said 'Are you seriously not gonna tell me?'
"Oh, shut up!" he said before turning and walking away. Token just chuckled and followed after him knowing that nothing needed to be said.
The two walked in silence as they made their way to the front door and for Craig that made the elephant in the room even bigger. Should he just get it out in the open? After all, there was no way he was going to figure out the answers he needed on his own. How would Token react though? He was just as much Tweek's friend as he was his. Then again, Token always seemed to be able to put these things in a new light and there was no chance he would tell Tweek if he was sworn to secrecy, no matter how hard the news was.
Shit. What was he supposed to do?
As they climbed the steps up to the front door, Craig paused as Token reached out and pulled it open. Looking back when he realised Craig wasn't right beside him, he turned and just looked at him without saying a word. The two remained that way for a moment, silently, as if each one was waiting for the other to blink.
With a strained gulp, Craig eventually closed his eyes and exhaled in defeat.
"Token, what would you think if I said I was thinking about-"
"Hey, fellas!" came a bubbly and far-too-cheery voice from behind him. "Nice day, huh?"
Craig groaned. "Not this early, Butters!" he grumbled before stepping toward the door to get away from the perky doofus that now stood next to him.
"Well, alrighty then!" came Butters' not-to-be-brought-down reply. "Mornin', Token!"
"Yeah, morning" Token replied feeling similarly unready to deal with Butters' perkiness before breakfast. Holding the door open he let Craig pass by with Butters tottering along behind him into the nondescript hallway. He watched for a moment as Craig marched away towards his locker and then just sighed as he wondered what it was Craig had been about to say. Hopefully it wouldn't take him long to bring it up again. Then again, when it came to Craig, who knew?
And there we go. How's that for starters?
So, could this be a thing? Are you already bored silly? I hope not. I have plans for what this could become and I really hope I'm not copying something that's already been done. If I have then I'm super sorry. I haven't read tons of Creek stuff so if I have then please rest assured that it wasn't intentional. If by some miracle you liked this though, let me know in the review box and I'll keep ploughing away at it. 'Til next time! X