They were sitting in his living room, illuminated by the TV and overhead light, as the sun had already begun its descent beneath the horizon. Tweek's parents had gone out, giving them space for their "date". They'd just done what they usually did when they hung out- played games and eaten snacks, enjoying the company. They had hardly noticed his parents absence, aside from the occasionally deep silence during lulls in conversation.
Neither of them saw the significance of an anniversary; they hadn't celebrated any lesser ones before now and they hadn't really wanted to celebrate this one either, but of course they had to keep up appearances, or their year-long charade would be discovered. Weeks and months weren't necessary, but the same couldn't be said for the first annual.
Tweek had to admit, there was something different about today. There was a strange underlying tension between them, though it had gone unacknowledged. Both were more careful with their words, and their usual irreverent humor was more docile, wholesome even (in some cases). Both of them had glanced at the other on separate occasions, only to catch the other staring, before they both looked away, flushed and embarrassed.
Tweek was confused. He had been confused for a while too. In the time they'd spent together, Craig had become his best friend, of that he had no doubt; He was sure he was Craig's best friend as well. But is that all they were? The town clearly didn't think so, but what did those idiots know? It was their fault this situation arose at all; was it weird though, he wondered, to not resent them for it in the slightest? But they were just friends, only doing this to placate others, weren't they? He could almost believe that. Almost.
His feelings toward Craig were a tangled knot of emotions and thoughts and he didn't really think himself ready to try and unravel it. He could put no words to it, but deep down, he knew it was more than friendship. But was it the same for him? Talking to him would be the fastest way to find out, but what if he didn't feel the same? If he misjudged, misread things, it could ruin their friendship. It would be far worse to lose him completely than to keep silent. And still, Craig had been there for him, listening without judgement of his insecurities, and vice versa; yet this topic had gone undiscussed.
He glanced over at Craig, watched him focus on the game, his brow scrunched in concentration, his eyes trained on the giant abyssal snake monster he was currently fighting. Suddenly, with a storm of arrows from a Lord of Cinder, the loss of 80k souls, a big red "YOU DIED", and a shouted "Fuck!" from Craig, he tossed the controller onto the couch and covered his face with his hands.
"This game is a load of shit," he commented from behind his hands.
"You're only saying that because you died," Tweek laughed, taking a drink of his coffee. Craig said nothing, but moved one hand to flip him off. Tweek laughed again, before adding "Aldrich ain't shit man, you'll get him, just keep at it!"
"Easy for you to say, you beat him on the first try," Craig replied, moving his hands and looking dejectedly at the screen.
"That was mostly luck, my phantom, and I guessed what he's weak to."
"Yeah yeah, whatever dude." Craig picked up the controller and sighed, then directed his character to use the bonfire he'd respawned at, and headed back to Firelink Shrine. Looking at Craig, Tweek made a snap decision. He took a breath, gathered his courage, steeled himself for the worst, and took the plunge. "Craig, can we talk?"
Without looking, Craig replied "We are talking, dude."
Tweek looked down at his coffee, held in hands shaky from nothing that had to do with caffeine, face burning crimson, and said softly "I meant about... us."
For a moment, Craig didn't react. Tweek quickly glanced up, and saw a flurry of emotion, though he only identified panic and concern before Craig's face was a smoothly inscrutable mask again. He carefully set the controller back down and turned to Tweek, giving him his full attention, asking "What's on your mind?" Though he tried to hide it from his face, he hid nothing from his intonation, suffused with profound emotion as he hadn't ever before. It was a stark shift from his usual near-monotone, impossible to ignore.
Tweek swallowed hard, and took another drink of coffee before proceeding. Addressing his cup, he said "We've been doing this. . . 'dating' for a while now."
"Right. . ." Craig said, questioningly.
"Well, I guess this is going to sound dumb, given everything that's happened-"
"It won't. Don't second guess yourself, alright?"
Without looking up from his mug, he nodded, and took a deep breath before continuing. "Is this all we're going to be?" his voice quivered as he asked, despite the reassurance. He put the mug down, and glanced at Craig's face only for that glance to meet his stare.
Craig looked slightly uncomfortable, blush creeping over his face, but he asked "What do you mean?" with that rare sincerity, stirring something in him; the eye contact unbroken, Tweek dropped the pretenses:
"You, me, together: us. Are you. . . do you think you're going to want more from this?" His face flushed, Tweek began talking faster, his thoughts coming forth like a flood "And if not, how long are we going to have to keep pretending? How long could we even keep it up? And then, I guess, we won't be getting so much allowance money any more, but who cares right? Could we even fake break up and stay friends without people getting suspicious?" Almost hyperventilating now, he couldn't have stopped if he tried (he didn't) "Is everyone just going to fall apart again? Are you just going to be stuck with me? And I really like you, not just as a friend and I don't know how to feel about that and I want you to like me that way too but I want you to be with me because you want to not because you have no choice and I-"
"TWEEK!" Craig yelled, grabbing his shoulder and silencing him. Red in the face and on the verge of tears, Tweek sniffed out a weak "Yeah?", voice full of apprehension.
Craig wore a small half smile, his normally intense gaze now tender; he leaned in close and said quietly, reassuringly, with the mystifying wholeheartedness so alien for him "Shut up, dude."
The next moment was burned crystal clear in Tweek's memory; the way the setting sun was reflected through the window in Craig's eyes, beautiful pools of pale blue. Their hands wrapped around each other, bodies almost touching, the wild fluttering of his heart, matched by Craig's own. They leaned in closer, eyes almost closed. . . and their noses bumped together, surprising them and making them both laugh. This time turning their heads just a tad, Tweek saw Craig smile as he closed his eyes. The warmth of their breath, the soft contact of their lips, uncertain at first, a little awkward, but electrifying, glorious. The feeling of a sudden roaring inferno inside his chest, the simple desire for this moment to not end, the need for nothing more than to be close to his boyfriend.
When they separated, though still in a close embrace, the were both breathless like they'd run for miles. They stared into each other's eyes silently, catching their breath. Beneath it all, the bond between them hadn't changed, but grown in a way that defied definition. The tension between them had gone, and in its place, only light remained.
"Wow," they said as one, which then of course elicited a simultaneous laugh from them.
"We've been missing out on that for a whole year? I feel kinda cheated," Craig said, his face alight with poorly disguised joy and colored with passion.
"Yeah. . . we should probably start making up for lost time." Tweek replied, sounding almost dazed, his features flushed and arraigned in an expression of exhilaration.
"You know, I was hoping you'd say that" Craig said to him, his smile widening as he leaned in close, stroking the side of Tweek's check; it burned where their skin made contact, and another, more rational part of his mind noticed their matching goosebumps before his attention was drawn elsewhere.
The soft light of an overcast Colorado sky woke him. It took him moment to realize he wasn't in his bed, as he was still not fully conscious. He sat up, stretching away the sleep from his limbs, and glanced around the shadowy room which was bathed in the pale rays of the before dawn.
The TV and game console were off. His parents coats and shoes were near the door, and there was a note on the counter. Everything else was exactly as it was when he fell asleep, even. . .
He looked down at his boyfriend, still slumbering beside him. He smiled as he remembered last night. He felt so relieved, like a gargantuan burden had been lifted from his shoulders. For the first time in months, he didn't care about what anyone else would think of them, everything was as it should be.
His stomach rumbled, stirring him from his thoughts. He carefully got up and put the blanket back into place over Craig (he assumed one of his parents had put it over them), grabbed his phone off the end table and headed into the kitchen.
Turning on the coffee maker as he passed it, he unlocked his phone to check the time and looked around the kitchen for something to eat. 5:45? They must have fallen asleep earlier than he'd realized for him to wake up so early.
He was in the mood for something warm, but he needed his coffee before he could decide what, so he impatiently waited for the brewing to finish. After he fixed his mug, he mentally debated the merits of oatmeal vs frozen waffles. In the end, he decided on some cereal for simplicity's sake, and also because he didn't want to go to the trouble of cooking them.
He grabbed the first brightly colored box he saw out of the cupboard and after quickly filling his bowl, then returning the box and milk to their places, he scarfed down the stuff without even noticing the brand. He thought it tasted a little odd, but it wasn't terrible so he just ate as fast as he could without choking; he wanted to get back to Craig.
He rinsed the emptied bowl, grabbed his coffee and returned to the living room. He was pleasantly surprised to find Craig just arisen, sitting upright, curled under the blanket.
He crossed the room before his boyfriend was entirely lucid, so Craig was surprised by Tweek's soft "Good morning". Craig's sleepy eyes found his and they shared a contented grin. He lifted the blanket, offering Tweek the place beside him. Taking the spot quickly, they cuddled close underneath the covers.
"My parents called yours, so you're probably not going to be in trouble," Tweek said quietly.
Craig sighed, and at the same low volume, monotonous as usual, said "I'm gonna have to thank them for that, won't I?"
"Well it'd be polite. They did do something nice for us," Tweek replied. He said "You don't have to be anxious about it, you know. They like you!"
"I'm not anxious. I'm just not excited by the prospect." Craig said with the slightest hint of trepidation.
Tweek didn't reply, and for a while they they sat, comfortable together in the quietude.
"Tweek. . . you're the best that ever happened to me," Craig said, disturbing the silence with that beguiling, newfound earnestly.
Blushing, taken aback, Tweek turned to look at him, stuttering out "What?! Craig, I- I don- I mean- you really-"
Craig silenced him with a look, blooming red and bittersweet "I mean it. You're my best friend and. . . you make me a better person. I'm never happier than when we're together, and I'm sorry it took me so long to realize that," he heaved a weary sigh, and asked "How long did you felt like this, before talking to me yesterday?"
"It dawned on me over the past couple months. Did you ever think. . .?" Tweek trailed off.
When Tweek didn't finish his question, Craig thought a moment, and said "I didn't think we would be more than friends; I guess, I just assumed you wouldn't want to. I realized my feelings, but I gave up on them," Craig finished demurely. Tweek nodded, and held him slightly tighter.
"I wish. . ." Craig sighed softly, looking at the other boy, his wordless apology written on his face.
Tweek simply replied, "I know."
As they say, huddled together in silence, a pillar of crimson light shone suddenly on them, surprising them both. They looked out the window, and saw dawn break over the Coloradan mountains through a perfectly positioned gap in the thick layer of clouds.
Around lunch, Tweek was aimlessly looking through the fridge, not knowing what he wanted to eat, if anything. Craig had left a couple hours before, returned home to shower, change clothes, and face his parents; they made plans to meet later, so Craig seemed relatively confident that his parents wouldn't be too upset.
"Tweek, honey, could you come here?" his mother called. Entering the dining room with his parents seated waiting of him, he immediately assumed the worst.
"Am I in trouble?" he asked quickly, alarm plain on his face and in his voice.
His dad responded quickly "No son, not at all!" Then seemingly regretting his choice of words, he turned to his wife.
"We were just wondering how your date went last night. . ." his mom trailed off.
"Oh! um... It was fine," he said, confused. As soon as he said it, he could tell this wasn't what they really wanted to know. His father furrowed his eyebrows and his mother pursed her lips. He vaguely wondered what they thought had happened.
Inhaling deeply, his mom asked "So you boys had fun then?", with an edge to her voice that hadn't been there a moment ago. He didn't like how she stressed the word "fun", as if she wasn't talking about anything like video games. . .
"Well yeah. . .?" he replied, still very confused. "I love spending time with him."
"So what did you do?" his dad asked. As he did, his wife shot him a dirty look that only served to befuddle Tweek more. He assumed he was just missing something.
He opened his mouth to speak, but his mind immediately jumped to the kiss (kisses, more accurately) and he closed it again. They and the conversations that book-ended them were extremely personal and intimate; could he really just casually tell someone about them, even his parents? No, not directly, not in full detail.
"We played video games, hung out and. . . talked." he said simply, and despite himself, he felt his cheeks go warm at the mention of the conversation. He hoped they hadn't noticed his moment of hesitation, but part of them knew they were watching him too closely to have missed it.
His mom sighed. She seemed frustrated, though he couldn't imagine why. His dad was looking at him intently, saying nothing. He wondered if they could tell he was holding back.
"Is everything alright?" he asked them before either of them could respond; he sounded more concerned and less confused aloud than he actually dad now heaved a heavy sigh, putting one hand on his knee and the other supporting his face as he looked down, seemingly deep in thought. His mom looked uncomfortable, her hands slack in front of her, not meeting his eyes.
Suddenly, his father straightened, looked him in the eye, and said in a controlled, yet slightly stern voice "I'm just going to ask: Son, did you and Craig have sex last night?"
He definitely wasn't expecting that. He supposed, in retrospect, bursting out laughing wasn't the best response.
"What, are you kidding?", he asked through the laughter.
He regretted that almost immediately. The looks they gave him quickly silenced the laughs.
"No, of course not!" he said sincerely, blush creeping over him, "We're only 11!"
His mother didn't appear wholly convinced. His father wore an unknowable expression, his gaze piercing. He tried to not appear guilty.
His parents exchanged a look, and some wordless communication passed between them.
"Alright," his dad said, finally, a note of resignation in his otherwise even tone "if and when you decide you're ready, I hope you remember to be safe, and that you'll trust us enough to tell us."
He was torn. Despite his words, Tweek could tell they still didn't believe him. It's not as if he's well-known for dishonesty either. Should he tell them more? He didn't want them to think poorly of him, but the events of last nights were between him and Craig. . . He came to a difficult decision:
"I- we. . . only just kissed for the first time last night." he admitted, blush growing deeper, looking down at his hands, his voice quiet "so you won't have to worry about that for a while. . ." he looked up at them slightly, and saw they appeared entirely dumbfounded.
"What?" he asked, even more confused.
"You've been dating for a year and only kissed last night?!" his mother exclaimed loudly. His father looked at her, surprised further by her reaction.
At her words, Tweek grew extremely red, and only partly from embarrassment. It was onerous in the extreme to even tell them that much, and now she was judging them?! A rare spark of defiance bloomed in him. He wasn't easily angered; very little seriously bothered him in that way, and his natural anxiety made aggravating him a trying task indeed; he was more likely to get scared, but he hardly expected this from his PARENTS of all people. It was ironic, he thought, with how supportive they've been through all of this; until now apparently.
"So what!? Why does that matter?!"
"You don't actually expect us to buy that, do you?" She scoffed.
"Yes I do!"
"That's completely ridiculous. You need to tell the truth, young man."
"I am!"
His father's voice, cold and calculated, cut off his mother's response, bringing forth aggravated confusion from her, ignored as he spoke to his son: "Enough. Tweek, go to your room. This discussion is over."
Almost in tears from anger, Tweek stormed out. As he left, he heard his parents talking; he tried hard to ignore them, lest the sound of their voices annoy him more. As he paced around his room, and watched as the time before his date fell away, and passed. His anger turned to anguish, and the indignant tears from before threatened to overwhelm him. His heart raced and he felt short of breath like he'd been running for miles. He looked down at his shaking hands, seemingly so distant. The rage had gone, but left a parting gift.
He felt the familiar grip of paranoia set in as his overactive mind imagined unbidden the worst possible outcomes of this latest catastrophe. Cold sweat and panic rolled down his shoulders and back, the cool blaze of adrenaline sweeping into his veins, he realized that this was going to be a bad one.
His thoughts were scrambled and incoherent, disorders wrapped up in his chaotic emotions, the icy grip of dread prevailing amidst the maelstrom. Terror threatening to overcome the last of his reason, he pulled his phone out and quickly alerted his lifeline of the impending torrential downpour of his feelings with the most descriptive text he could muster. Worries bit at his every thought, and the world spun and flashed.
Will he try to respond? What if my connection is bad? What if he doesn't notice it? What if he ignores it? What if he's mad with me for missing our date? He's probably busy. He won't have time to come. His parents won't let him. My parents wouldn't let him in anyway, with that argument still fresh.
He curled into a ball and sobbed softly as the corners of his mind closed in.
How long he spent there was a mystery. In retrospect, it would seem to be both momentary and eternal, an uncounted age where he sat alone among swirling grey stormclouds. And then, he'd heard someone speak his name.
Blinded by tears and gibbering senselessly, nothing he tried to say seemed to make sense, which only served to frustrate him further. It was as if he couldn't hold his thoughts uniform enough to be expressed.
The other person shushed him. Pulling him into a close embrace, they dried his eyes and whispered to him words of comfort that cut through the swirling thunderhead of his thoughts. Through his delirium, he heard them hiss something angrily. Another voice responded, and was gone. Before long, he thought no more, and his restless demons gave way to agitated dreams.
As he drifted off, he heard Craig whisper to him, and pull him into a tighter embrace; "I love you," he said, the warmth and care in his voice soothing his tense mind.