Craig doesn't think much of seeing Kenny walk up to school. He just keeps smoking his cigarette and staring at his shoes when the boy sits down next to him and leans back against the brick wall, hands shoved into the pockets. When Kenny doesn't ask to bum a cigarette and just sits there, staring out across the yard, Craig realizes something must be up. He looks up, an unimpressed expression on his face. "What?"
Kenny doesn't speak at first, and Craig can barely make out a small smirk peeking over the fur lining the hood of his worn parka. It's a smirk that says 'I know something you don't know', and Craig couldn't care less – really, he couldn't – but he figures he'll get dragged into whatever scheme Kenny has concocted eventually and it's better to get it over with now.
"Didn't know you could see me," the blond says, and if Craig hadn't spent so much time around him lately he probably wouldn't have been able to decipher the muffled phrase.
Craig rolls his eyes and takes another drag. "The fuck are you on about McCormick?" Craig half expects Kenny to go off on a pot-induced pseudo-philosophical rant about how the impoverished are invisible or how society doesn't value kids who grew up on the wrong side of the tracks. He purses his lips and looks over at Kenny to see if his eyes are red and half-lidded, and he's mildly surprised to find that they aren't.
"Might as well tell you before anyone else does. I'm dead, man," Kenny says with a smile, the kind he gives when he's said something just to get a reaction out of someone. Craig looks at him like he's lost his mind and half-heartedly flips him off before he turns back to look out across the courtyard again.
"Whatever, dude."
The next day at lunch, he gets the news from Clyde that Kenny has been reported missing. Craig starts wondering how many people Kenny has managed to rope into this harebrained scheme, but he keeps his mouth shut and his face as expressionless as possible, taking a sip of his water and discretely slipping his headphones into his ears so that he doesn't have to listen to his friends bitch and cry over a guy they barely knew.
"It's j-just so weird to think he-e's missing. What if he's dead somewhere, oh Jesus!" Tweek squeaks out, his right eye twitching shut every time he stutters.
"Yeah, I was over at his house just last weekend. I never thought he'd just disappear like this... We were really close," Clyde says, choking back tears and Craig resists the urge to vomit.
"Buying weed from him doesn't make you best friends," Craig drones out. He starts scrolling through the music on his phone and trying to find something he hasn't already listened to a million times.
"You could be more sympathetic, Craig. We've all known Kenny since grade school. Just because you don't have feelings doesn't mean you can be mad at Clyde for expressing his." Sometimes Token's righteous defense of the meek and weak act really pisses Craig off.
"He's not really missing. You guys are crying over nothing." Craig says simply.
The anger in Token's eyes intensifies, morphs into something beyond rage, but he doesn't say anything. Never let it be said that Token Black lacked self-control.
Craig looks over at Kenny's regular table, and when he sees that its empty, he figures this must have been some sort of scheme to get all of them out of school for a couple days without any repercussions.
Craig opts to walk home, deciding that he can't handle a bus ride filled with whining bitches with fake tears in their eyes. When he's halfway there and Kenny strides over to him, he almost punches him out just for putting Craig through all of this bullshit today. Knowing Kenny, he would probably like that though, so Craig settles for curling his hands into fists and shoving his nails into his palms.
"Hey sunshine, you miss me?"
Craig seethes and instinctively flips him off. He hopes Kenny will go away, but he doesn't, so Craig stops walking and takes a deep breath, preparing himself for the mental roller coaster that he is about to embark on. "Why are you letting everyone think you're missing?"
"I tried talking to them but nobody can hear me except for you. I told you dude, I'm dead."
"I don't believe you," Craig deadpans before continuing to walk.
"No I'm being serious!" Kenny seems exasperated. He doesn't follow Craig, but he calls after him, "If I show you my body will you believe me?"
Craig turns around and stares at him for a second, contemplating how he should proceed. "Sure. If you show me your dead body, I'll believe you."
"C'mon then," Kenny says, turning on his heel and walking off away from Craig. For a brief moment, Craig considers walking home and forgetting all about this, but his curiosity gets the better of him, and he follows Kenny, staying a few paces behind him the whole time.
When Kenny starts taking Craig through the woods, he briefly considers the possibility that Kenny is a serial killer and he came up with the idea of playing dead so that he could murder Craig and get away with it, but Craig also recognizes that he probably deserves to be murdered for walking into the woods with somebody who is claiming to be a ghost. He debates what Kenny's modus operandi is and whether or not the rest of his crew are in on it, and before too long he starts to smell something unholy wafting through the trees. He zips up his jacket and pulls it up to cover his nose and mouth.
"Holy fuck dude, it smells like shit out here," he murmurs through the fabric, but Kenny doesn't seem at all bothered by the stench.
And that's when he sees it.
Off in the distance just through the trees, Craig sees a body surrounded by vultures. Its in the same orange parka that Kenny is wearing, and the same worn jeans, even the same raggedy shoes. He starts moving towards it more quickly, convinced that this is a mirage, but the closer he gets the more the stench hits him, and before he can stop himself, he's doubled over with his hand on a tree, spilling his guts onto the forest floor. He tries to stop because he knows he has to see it up close to prove to himself that this isn't some elaborate prank, but he's shaking and the smell just seems to be getting worse.
He thinks he feels a hand on his back, but its so light that he can't be sure.
"Where the fuck do you get off on doing this kind of shit to people McCormick? Get some rotting meat and dress it up like you and then drag me out here for no goddamn reason" Craig says in between gags.
"It's not a joke. That's really me."
Craig wishes that he would drop the whole act because he's starting to believe him. He feels Kenny's hand creep up to his shoulder and he shrugs it off, coughing and trying to still his racing heart.
"Whatever man, let's just get out of here. I'm done with this shit." Craig takes one last look at the body that's still lying several yards away, and he wishes he had a stronger stomach. He hopes this doesn't make him a pussy.
The walk back to Craig's house is silent until they're on his street. Craig doesn't know when exactly he decided to start playing along with Kenny's bullshit game, but maybe if he does Kenny will yell "gotcha" and run off into the sunset so that Craig can get back to his nice and boring life.
"What were you doing in the woods?"
"Walking."
Craig sighs. "Why were you walking in the woods?"
Kenny shrugs, "Why not?"
Craig trudges his way inside and up the stairs to his room, with Kenny following close behind. He leaves the door open for Kenny and wonders if ghosts can walk through walls like they do in the movies.
Craig shrugs off his coat, chullo, and shoes before throwing his bag off to the side and grabbing out his pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He sits on the bed, his back against the headboard and lights his cigarette. He inhales deeply and stares at Kenny; he tries to make out any signs that he's a phantom and not a real person. He looks for transparency, even translucence; he looks at the skin on Kenny's face and tries to determine if it's any more pale than it normally is, but fuck if he knows what Kenny's normal complexion is.
"Okay McCormick, I'll bite. What do I need to do to help you…pass on?" Kenny just laughs at him, and there's that smirk again, the same 'I-know-something-you-don't' smirk, and Craig just wants to wipe it off of his face with his fist.
"I don't know dude. I don't think its like that. I mean…. usually when I die, I just wake up in bed the next day and nobody remembers."
Craig nods, tapping his cigarette against the ash tray he keeps on his nightstand. The way Kenny is just standing there is making him nervous. He feels those blue eyes burning into the side of his skull and its starting to make him feel jumpy.
"Do you want to sit down? I don't know if ghosts need to sit down or not."
Kenny smiles at that and doesn't say anything, just sits with his back against the footboard of the bed and bends his legs so that he isn't touching Craig.
"Can I put my hand through you?" Craig has never been the best at crafting sentences.
"Yeah man," Kenny replies quickly, leaning towards Craig and holding his hand out. Craig puts out his cigarette on the ashtray. He reaches up and holds out his index finger, moving it slowly towards the back of Kenny's hand. He's surprised when he feels cold skin there. He presses in harder, but it's of no use; Kenny is like a solid mass beneath his hand, but the skin sort of slips over the other boy's muscles and Craig pulls his hand back, sufficiently weirded out.
"Is it like that everywhere?" Craig asks.
Kenny opens his mouth to answer, but he hears footsteps coming up the stairs, and when Craig's mom stops in the doorway and asks what he wants for dinner, she doesn't seem to notice the other boy in his room.
When she leaves, she closes the door behind her, and its quiet for a little bit before Kenny says, "you can feel if you want." Craig figures he's going to hell anyway. Craig doesn't see Kenny take off his parka or his shirt, but they're gone in the blink of an eye, and he doesn't question how, assuming it's a ghost thing. Kenny climbs up the bed and lies down next to where Craig is sitting, between him and the wall, and he puts his hands behind his head, completely unashamed at his half-nakedness. Craig would roll his eyes but he can't seem to tear them away from Kenny's chest. The blond has graciously closed his eyes, maybe trying not to make this anymore awkward than its going to be.
Craig reaches down and places his whole palm over Kenny's belly, stretching his fingers as far as he can to touch as much skin as he can. He slowly sort of moves his hand up and down. A mix of disgust and arousal hits Craig in an instant, and when he feels his hand start to move up towards Kenny's nipples, he pulls himself back and sits up, hunching over to try to hide his boner. Kenny opens one eye and looks up at him, laughing and patting Craig's thigh before allowing it to rest there. Its light and Craig hates the electric pulse it sends to his dick.
Before too much time has passed, Kenny's hand slips down to Craig's thigh, and then up to his crotch, where he presses down in a way that makes Craig shudder, and then he's just there, Kenny is there, crouching between his bent knees, with his hand still pressing Craig's erection through his jeans and his stone cold lips tracing up the side of Craig's jaw. Craig hears a faint click of what he thinks is the door locking, but he pays it no mind and tries to remember how to breathe. He feels his pants being undone, and he moves his legs to help Kenny take them off of him. They're pulled off at an impossible speed, his boxers following suit, and when he feels something wet and lukewarm on his dick, he isn't sure what to think.
He looks down to see blond hair waving in the breeze that is being created as Kenny's head bobs up and down, and Craig lets out a single, "fuck" before he throws his head back and hits it too hard on the headboard.
He feels fingers running all over him, under his shirt, around his thighs; he feels them cupping his balls lightly and when he feels them move down to his perineum, he's coming without any warning. He bites his lip to hold back a moan, and he doesn't know if ghosts should swallow things, but Kenny doesn't seem to mind.
In an instant, Kenny is there behind him, adjusting pillows and petting his hair, placing light kisses on his forehead as he comes down, and when Craig reaches for Kenny's cock, he feels those cold fingers grab his wrist gently and place his arm back down on the bed.
Craig curls up to Kenny, and he ponders whether or not he should be involved with someone like him, someone who attracts this sort of insanity when Craig would be perfectly happy to avoid these situations for the rest of his life.
When he feels Kenny's lips press against his, he admits defeat and takes solace in the fact that at least Kenny is more like him than Stan or Kyle or Tweek or even Clyde. Kenny is chill; he doesn't let the fact that he's dead make him all emotional and needy. No matter what happens, he accepts his situation and goes on with it, sucks a few dicks and smokes some weed and tries to get through his life without fucking anything up too bad. Craig appreciates that.
"Does this make us anything?" Craig asks, trying to maintain his normal emotionless tone and very nearly failing.
"It makes us whatever you want," Kenny says, still petting his hair.
"Can ghosts still date?" Kenny smiles and nods at him.
After a relatively awkward dinner with his family, Craig gets a quick shower and comes back to bed, where he hopes Kenny has been waiting for him. When he opens the door and spots the blond, he manages to hold back his smile, and when he curls up under the blankets with his ghost boyfriend, he feels an odd sense of complete.
Craig watches Kenny stare out of the window and prays to whatever god is out there that Kenny will still be there when he wakes up in the morning.
