Disclaimer: Clearly, I don't own South Park (much to my continued disappointment).
A/N: so... this has been sitting around on my computer for a little while now, and I never bothered uploading it because...
Well, honestly, I have no idea.
I've got the entire story plotted out from start to finish, and the first three chapters already written out though, so there is that.
...
Unresolved
1
...
"Come on, dude," Craig says again from where he's spread out across the length of Tweek's bed, chullo hat on the floor and dark hair in such a mess that Tweek wants to runs his fingers through it. "You promised you'd go."
Tweek, only just having climbed back up the stairs after getting them both another huge mug of coffee to share (really, Craig ought to feel blessed – Tweek doesn't share with just anyone), rolls his eyes. "Ugh, you know I hate parties. And crowds—"
"And loud noises, and lots of bodies, and drugs and alcohol and good music and having fun, and just about everything else… yeah, I know. But you promised, honey." Is he actually pouting?
Making a sound of disgust, the blonde takes a huge gulp of the scalding drink, sets the mug down on the table wish a sloshing clunk, and shoves at Craig's legs until the taller boy shunts over a ways. Tweek flops down beside him, the lengths of their arms and sides pressed together.
It takes all of a second for Craig's bare toes to hone in on the baggy length of Tweek's pajama bottoms, so he can warm them up on his calves.
Much flailing, grunting and tickling ensues, abating only when Tweek's fists are full of Craig's hair and the taller boy is half sprawled on top of him, chilled hands pressed high against Tweek's ribs, beneath his green t-shirt. Their legs are tangled, cold toes forgotten; their kicking was so violent that the blanket that normally lives at the foot of the bed is now in a heap on the floor.
For a long beat of silence, both boys gather themselves, Tweek feeling flushed and breathless and more relaxed than he does with anyone else. Craig's small, crooked smile and pink face is so close that each puff of air from the other boy's mouth fans out across his cheek, and makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Tweek isn't sure when it became commonplace for him to see Craig this way, but it's been pretty much half their lives now. At eighteen, they've been 'boyfriends' for eight years. At some point, they were bound to grow comfortable with one another, he supposes. (The fact that it happened after 'dating' for just a handful of months was a huge shock to Tweek. In fact, it's still a surprise now.)
"I didn't, actually. Promise I'd go, I mean," Tweek says, huffing, (mostly because he already knows there's no way he'll get out of it now). As much as Craig's bugging him about going to Token's, the other boy hates big parties too, and they've ditched so many over the years (usually claiming to be out on dates) that their friends have started getting pissed at them. Nowadays, everyone just bribes or threatens Craig until he caves, and then the two of them go through this routine of grumbling and roughhousing and lazing around until the last minute. Inevitably, they turn up rumpled, red cheeked and late. Everyone just assumes they'd been making out or fucking or something, Tweek supposes.
His fingers clench a little harder in Craig's hair at the embarrassing thought, and Craig hisses a breath.
"Shit dude, that's still attached to my head, you know," he says, sliding one hand out from under Tweek's top (Tweek's stomach does some weird twitchy thing as Craig's fingertips skate over it), and gently tugs the shorter boy's fingers free. Then his hand is on the pillow beside his head, Craig's grip encircling his wrist, and they're staring at each other again. From this close, he can see every nuance, every fleck of silver in his eyes, every long eyelash and freckle and imperfection. Tweek is hyperaware of their breathing, and his heartbeat, and the warmth and weight of Craig's body on his—
And then, like a hundred other times over the last eight years, Craig blinks and the moment is over. Unlike when they'd been younger and they'd scrambled away from one another, embarrassed and awkward and unsure of their own weird pseudo-relationship, now Craig just lays his cheek down on Tweek's shoulder. The press of a long nose against his throat and lips a hairs width from his skin sets Tweek's nerves on fire.
They stay like that for so long, the light outside the window starts to fade, and Tweek finds himself wondering if maybe Craig's fallen asleep. Perhaps they won't have to go to the damn party—
"Please, babe?" Craig says, and his voice is little more than a mumble against his neck; he shivers. "Token'll kill me. We didn't go last Christmas, and you know he was a pain in my ass right up 'til summer vacation."
Gulping, Tweek runs the fingers of his free hand through Craig's hair so that he can avoid replying for a little longer. It's soft, slipping through his fingertips without a single tangle catching; when Tweek turns his head just slightly, he gets a waft of citrus shampoo and cigarette smoke. Craig waits silently, doesn't bother pushing Tweek for a response – knows him well enough to give him the chance to think.
"What's in it for me, huh?" Tweek finally asks, his voice equally quiet.
"I'll let you hog the covers for the next month, and I won't complain once," Craig says instantly, the barest teasing inflection in his voice.
The blonde snorts. "Weak, Tucker. We don't even share a bed when we crash at mine." His parents still won't let them. Not like they need to worry about anything ever happening.
Craig pulls himself up onto his elbows. "What're we doing now then, huh?" The hand still under Tweek's top moves, the pad of Craig's thumb accidentally brushing over his nipple.
A shock jolts through him.
Tweek squawks, flails, elbows Craig in the side of the head and falls off the bed.
There's a beat of silence before Craig peers over the edge, a shit-eating grin on his face.
Tweek gives his pseudo-boyfriend precisely three seconds to enjoy his brief victory.
The scuffle that follows wastes another nice chunk of time.