HC: Clyde doesn't smoke. He thinks it'll interfere with football. He gets his first taste of cigarettes by kissing Craig.
Up on the roof, alone and away from the crowd, Craig kept his solemn gaze on the heavens high above him. The stars, infinite as they were small, dotted the vast night sky. There was a morbid solace he found staring up at the constellations, though he knew absolute shit about astronomy. If he gave an actual fuck about school, he might've been able to name more than the Great Dipper, but Craig couldn't be bothered to give a damn. The teachers, the principal have all given up on him. It's a miracle to himself and everyone around him he hasn't dropped out of high school yet.
Crappy, auto-tuned music continued to play down below. Craig tried his best to block out the sounds, but it proved to be difficult when the people at Bebe's party must either be having the time of their lives, or a serial killer must be in their midst by all the shrill screaming grating against his ears.
He took a long drag of his cigarette, allowing the putrid toxins to fill his lungs. As he slowly blew the cloud of smoke from his lips, his view of the sky was momentarily obscured. The numbed emotions prickling in his chest was the closest he could feel to true happiness in this shitty town with its shitty people.
Laughter from his peers permeated the air, and Craig felt it was as distant as the stars. He could never be part of that. This wasn't his scene, wasn't his party. He didn't belong here. Never did. He should run far, far away where no one knew him and start anew. He could die in a ditch somewhere, Craig didn't care. He wanted out one way or another. Fuck everyone in South Park. Why did he even stay when there was nothing for him here?
Just as Craig questioned why, the reason himself popped his head up and joined Craig on the roof.
"Hey there loser, whatcha doing here all by yourself?" Sauntering over to where Craig laid on his back, Clyde sat down beside him with a cocky grin. The expression on the brunette's face caused Craig to boil with undue rage. It was a weakness he hated about himself for finding that stupid grin heartbreakingly endearing.
He kept his eyes on the constellations, stubbornly avoiding looking over at his friend. Only seconds past as he continued to ignore him, but Craig knew for Clyde- the ever so overly hyper teen- it must've felt like eons. Not even a full minute went by before Craig felt Clyde's foot nudge him at the ankle.
"Is that how it is? You're gonna keep ignoring me?" More nudging. "Too bad for you, the more you ignore me, the more I'll keep annoying you, Craig-i-roni~." Clyde took the opportunity to sing that hateful song. "Bad Craig, bad Craig, whatcha gonna do when they come for you~ Bad boy, bad boy~ Now the guitar solo riff!"
Sighing in exasperation, Craig bit down on the cigarette butt and took a deep inhale. "How'd you find me?" he drawled, the wisps of smoke leaving his lips to dissipate into the night air. He finally bothered to glance to his side and caught Clyde shrugging his shoulders.
"Token," the brunette explained, leaning back on his hands and tilting his head up to look at the sky too. "He said he saw you head to the back of the house. I figured you'd be up on the roof. You always had a thing for stars." The corners of Clyde's mouth curled up wistfully. "I can't blame you though. It's beautiful here."
Immediately, unable to stop himself, Craig's eyes drifted to Clyde's lips and drank in the distracted smile. A pang of yearning, bitter and ugly, weighed at his heart as he remembered the taste of Clyde's lips against his own.
Months ago at a different party, they were both drunk off their asses when Clyde suddenly kissed him. The details of how or why they started kissing were blurry, but Craig vividly relived the moment Clyde smashed their mouths together. The sweetness of Jungle Juice on Craig's tongue clashed with the frantic, rough hands tearing at his clothes. Clyde held him against the bathroom door with his body, forcing Craig's lips open with the pressure of his mouth.
Up until that night, Craig had only passingly thought of his friend as "cute" with his odd boyish charm. But when Clyde's tongue slid past the seams of his lips; the erotic strokes of that talented tongue against Craig's..."Cute" was the furthest thing from the noirette's mind, especially when he greedily swallowed all of Clyde's pretty little moans, his passionate whimpers as Clyde rutted against him.
The door banged against its wooden frame with every slam of the brunette's hips. Wanting more friction, more pressure, Clyde eventually grabbed Craig's ass, pressing their straining cocks together.
If it weren't for the loud, insistent knocking on the door and Cartman's yelling for "whoever it is in there to hurry up and fuck" so he could use the bathroom, Craig suspected the two of them would've gone much further than dry humping.
Craig never found out if it was mere speculation on his part or if his suspicion rang true. The next morning, neither of them talked about it. They went on about their day, acting as if everything was still the same and nothing had changed between them. Craig was fine with that, Clyde remaining his best friend. The months rolled by, and indeed there wasn't a major shift in their friendship.
Except, sometimes in his dreams at night, Craig could hear the desperate way Clyde panted his name.
Lost in his memories, Craig caught only the last half of the brunette's question. "- really fun?"
"What?" Craig scowled, annoyed he was so distracted he didn't hear Clyde speak to him. "Say it again."
Clyde laughed, the sound of it worming its way through Craig's caged heart. "You drunk or something? What's with you today?" The shorter teen smacked his shoulder, causing Craig's frown to deepen. "I said is smoking really fun? You've been doing it a lot lately."
"Why are you asking? You want to try it?" Being the absolutely asshole he was, Craig took a drag of his cigarette and purposely blew the smoke in the brunette's direction. "You changed your mind about it destroying your lungs and football career?"
"I dunno." Clyde hunched over and hugged his knees. "I'm curious? I never tried it, you know that. I know it's bad for you, but you make it seem like it tastes good or whatever."
"It doesn't," Craig said in a tone reeking of boredom, "Stay the good boy and stop thinking about it. It doesn't suit you anyway."
Clyde tilted his head and stared down at the raven curiously. "Then why are you doing it?"
Lazily, a grey puff of smoke swirled from Craig's mouth. "You wouldn't understand even if I told you." He didn't want to tell Clyde, his soft-hearted friend, it helped numb his emotions further. The thought of slowly killing himself by packing his lungs with poison, a sweet relief from this sad existence. Clyde would feel sorry for him, but there was nothing to feel sorry for. Craig willingly wanted this. As if to prove his point, he took a deep breath and allowed the smoke to completely fill his lungs. "What are you doing here, Clyde? Shouldn't you be off in a corner somewhere making out with a slut of the week?"
Clyde grunted unhappily at Craig's change in subject, but answered the noirette's question nonetheless. "The party just started," he said with a pout, "Who says I can't bag a hot babe by the end of it?"
Craig mustered enough effort to roll his eyes before shifting his gaze back to the sky. He stopped paying attention to Clyde's presence and the ridiculousness the brunette automatically brought with him, concentrating instead on the twinkling stars. He lost himself to the night beauty, the clamoring of the party a faraway sound. For a long time, Clyde stayed silent, sitting beside him as he allowed Craig his peaceful moment.
In the back of his mind, Craig found it odd Clyde remained so still for so long. When the brunette shifted, Craig assumed it was to leave the roof to rejoin the party, but Clyde only moved to block is view of the stars. The jock loomed over him, his green eyes shimming like the constellations above his head.
An eyebrow raised in question, the cigarette grew bright orange as Craig inhaled. Before he could open his mouth to ask what the fuck was Clyde was up to, the brunette deftly plucked the cigarette from his mouth and kissed him.
Lips soft and silky as he remembered, caressed his own as Clyde molded his mouth to fit across Craig's. The jock beckoned for his lips to part, and drowning in the sweet taste of the kiss, Craig could only give in to the request. Slowly, in small increments, Craig opened up to him and the huff of smoke billowed from his mouth and into Clyde's.
Tiny tendrils drifted between their lips as the brunette breathed in the grey cloud of smoke; then even that disappeared when Clyde sealed his mouth over his companion. In languid swipes and lazy strokes, Clyde explored Craig's wet heat with his tongue. Gone was the desperation and passionate lust from last time. In its place was a kiss sweet as it was gentle. The way Clyde worshipped his mouth, like he would die if Craig denied him, it felt as if they had all the time in the world to discover each others' secrets.
Gently, so gently, Clyde brushed his fingertips across Craig's cheeks, treating him as if he was precious, something he couldn't bear to see break. The guttural moans of the brunette that previously filled Craig's dreams, were all gradually being replaced by the content sighs echoing in his ears.
When their lips finally parted, Craig stared long and hard at the jock, not saying a single thing. In return, Clyde smiled softly and stuffed what was left of the cigarette back between Craig's mouth.
"I can see the appeal of smoking now," Clyde said, his cocky grin back on his face. "I can definitely get addicted to this." With those parting words, he rolled off of Craig and started towards the ladder at the side of the house.
Just as Clyde began to make his way down the roof, Craig shouted after him. "Are you drunk again?"
The brunette's amused laughter drifted back to him. "No, not this time." And then he was gone, back to the God forsaken party.
Craig stared at the spot where Clyde left, wondering about what all this could mean. He was afraid to think too much and put meaning behind the kiss when there was probably none. As he agonized over Clyde's cryptic words, his phone began vibrating. Craig took it out of his pocket, and scowled at Clyde's text.
{Text from: Crybaby Asshole} Told you I'd bag a hot babe by the end of the night ;)
A/n: That's the end folks. Haha...Finally my first real completed fanfic to the SP fandom yay... But the continuation of the text goes a little bit like this
Craig: You're an idiot
Clyde: But I'm you're idiot LOL.
Craig: Clyde, you ARE drunk aren't you?
Clyde: Off of love and you, yeah.
Craig: Wtf? Are you confessing? You like me?
Clyde: Maaaybe. Is that yes if I am confessing?
Craig: Clyde, are you fucking with me? This isn't funny.
Clyde: Nope not fucking. I'll make love to you, like you want me to~
Craig: Fuck you, Clyde.
Clyde: Just give me the time and place baby ;)
And then Craig smashes his phone because he can't deal with Clyde lol.