The funny thing was, we had been somewhat friends most of our lives, living in this tiny town in buttfuck nowhere. I mean, I'd never really thought of him as more then a fun drinking buddy at the time, let alone even a genuine friend, not like how I was with Tweek that is, but that's besides the point.
We were at a party, drinking heavily, shot after shot, my good pal Kenny hanging by my side. We were both shitfaced, fucked up, and drunk out of our minds. We ended up branching away from the group of people, bored with the scene and ready to explore the halls of this unfamiliar house. Somewhere in between all that though, we'd started arguing over god knows what, probably something dumb, I don't remember. But when he called me gay, that was when I snapped, my fist colliding against his jaw with a resounding crack, followed by a few more unfocused punches. "Fuck you", I seethed. Nobody called Craig Tucker gay, and Kenny was no exception. I turned to walk away, caught off guard, as Kenny threw his own punch, hitting me square in my side, cracking several ribs. I doubled over, the lack of oxygen causing everything to go black.
The next morning I awoke in the hallway of a house I didn't recognize. "Jesus fuck!", I cried out when my movements caused a sharp pain to shoot up my side. I carefully lifted my shirt, my mind going blank as I saw a fist sized bruise over my birthmark. I panicked, scrambling to remember what had happened the night before. Someone had touched my mark, and I couldn't remember a god damn thing. "Shit."
Kenny's head pounded as he slowly woke up, groggily. "Oh goddamn it!" He hissed with pain, clutching at his chest and cheek. He hurt all over and he had no idea where he was or what exactly happened last night. Which was kind of bizarre and made him fear for the absolute worst. "Fuck. What the hell happened last night?" He muttered, squinting his eyes due to the harsh sunlight pouring through the blinds.
What he could remember from last night wasn't pleasant, to say the least. He stumbled through the strange houses halls trying to find the nearest coffee machine, walking past several passed out people on the way. remembered that he ended up being dragged to this party by his drinking buddy Craig. He promised that there would be good booze, so Kenny agreed to go. Then he remembered the fighting. It started out playfully, and him getting a little to horny for Craig's liking. The other had snapped at him and Kenny remembered making a remark about how it didn't matter since he was already gay. Then he was on the ground being wailed on. After that, not much else came to his mind. Fuck.
Kenny flinched at the memories once they slowly came back to him. Yeah not his smoothest moment that was for sure. Sighing he finally found the kitchen and began to make a pot of coffee. Luckily for him the people who owned the house had the expensive shit, and that always seemed to do wonders for his hangovers on the rare occasions he got them. "There we go. Now time to check the damage." Kenny mumbled to himself as he slowly raised his shirt up.
"Oh fuck!" He swore loudly, noticing that the birthmark on the left side of his chest had been bruised over. "God fucking damn it!"
Craig, on the other hand, was still trying to peel himself off of the floor without causing too much pain. He was severely hungover, and probably needed to go to a hospital, but that could wait if he could just make it to the damn kitchen. He sucked in a breath, arms shaking as he picked himself up, his side on fire as he finally stood to his feet. He should of known better then to get in fights while drunk. Shit like this happened a bit too much for his liking.
He stumbled down the hall, stopping at the head of the staircase, internally groaning, before sucking it up and carefully taking a step down. God this hurt so bad. He huffed as he made it to the bottom of the stairs, leaning against the wall as he caught his breath. He had broken a sweat, and he'd be surprised if he hadn't at least broken two ribs. Whoever did this threw a mean fucking punch.
He pulled himself from the wall, wincing as he did, before taking another breath, trying to seem casual as he walked into the kitchen. Craig Tucker was good at hiding things, especially pain as he eyed some random people scattered about from last nights endeavors. He notice a certain blonde, leaning against the counter. "Hey Ken", he gave a quiet nod, greeting the other boy. He bit through the searing pain, leaning against the counter despite his bodies protests. He poured himself a cup, grinding down on his teeth as his side began throbbing. He he tried to take slow, calculated breaths, as he brought his drink to his lips.
Kenny slowly rolled his shirt back down and focused his limited attention on the coffee maker. "Fuck. Hurry up you stupid machine." He wined as he lifted a hand to his temples. God his head hurt, and so did the rest of his bruised body. Craig had really done a number on him. Craig. Kenny cringed slightly at the thought of his name as his mind flashed back to the bruise over his chest. Could he have been the one who hit him there? The answer was mostly likely yes and he really didn't know what to think of it.
While Kenny was lost in thought he didn't really notice the raven haired teen stumbling into the kitchen nor that the coffee was done. It was only when he heard Craig's voice that Kenny noticed the other. "Oh, hey Craig. You look like shit. What happened to you last night?" Kenny asked with fake concern as he tried to play off the situation coolly. He couldn't help but feel some satisfaction at the amount of pain the other looked to be in. He now knew that he at least didn't give in to his ass whooping without fighting back first.
"At least my face is fine", he joked as he noticed the other boys growing bruise on his chin. He took a sip of his coffee, grimacing at the taste. He really wasn't a fan of coffee. "So who'd you fight this time?", he said cooly, swallowing the forming lump in his throat. What if Kenny was the one that he'd fought? Fuck, if he could just remember. He took in another shallow breath, trying to concentrate. Ow, this fucking hurts. Wait…what was I freaking out about? He tried to make sense of his thoughts, as a sharp pain burst throughout his chest.
"Shit", he accidently said aloud, grabbing at his ribs. The pain was getting to him as he doubled over. He was quickly overwhelmed with a sense of fatigue. He fought it, desperately trying his best to keep his eyes open, taking another large gulp of coffee in hopes it might help; it didn't. "Th-this coffee sucks", he tried, his eyelids feeling heavy. His breathing was labored and heavy as he tried supporting himself with shaky hands, grabbing into the counter edge tightly. His ears were ringing, he could hear a muffled voice, shouting probably, but he couldn't make out the words.
Colors dances across Craig's vision, blending into one other as he tried to decipher what was happening. Pain exploded across his skull when it hit the floor, and the last thing he could make out was the color orange before everything went black. He really should've went to the hospital first.