Hiya :) So this is a fic I've started writing, it's Cryde, and was actually beta'd by someone (for once) so hopefully there won't be any awful grammar mistakes or anything :P There's probably only going to be one more chapter but I haven't started writing yet so expect an update in about a week-ish. Also, if anybody wants to beta anything I write in the future, it'd be much appreciated, just drop me a message if you're interested :) And if anybody reading this has Tumblr and posts, at least partially, South Park related stuff, PLEASE give me your url and I'll follow you, cuz I need more SouthPark blogs to follow :P

OH, and thanks for reading my story :D Reviews always welcome, Enjoy :D


'...And that is how you find the median gradient of two intersecting parabolas.' My math teacher, Mrs Johnson, drones on and on. But I don't hear her. I'm too busy staring out the window, looking at two birds outside. The way they glide so effortlessly through the air, twisting around one another, it takes me out of the dull, stuffy math classroom, making it impossible for me to focus on anything else. I don't know my birds particularly well, but If I had to guess, I'd say they're sparrows. All I can do is to not burst into tears right then and there at the incredible display of Mother Nature's beauty that I'm witnessing. Flying, swooping, twirling around one another, gliding all over the place, but never straying from the other's grasp, the two birds dance in the clouds, like two eternal loves set free from the bounds and chains of this world. The two creatures, so full of the power and wonder of life, rising up from the earth into an eternal angelic existence built entirely around one another. They land on a tree branch and the slightly smaller bird tilts it's head and snuggles up in the feathers of the slightly larger one, whispering affections and perfections into each other's ears, with a heavenly connection only found between two people entirely and wholly in love.

Damn it, I think to myself. Why can't I have that with someone?

All of a sudden I jolt back to reality as something hits the back of my head.

'Ow...' I say, though it doesn't really hurt. Turning around, I see a piece of paper scrunched up, and on the floor behind my desk. Well, that and the blank face of Craig Tucker staring directly at me.

Craig is my best friend; we hang out together all the time inside and outside of school. When people think of Craig, they also think of Clyde. Or when they think of Clyde they think of Craig, it works both ways I guess. It's just because we're always around each other. Him and me weren't all that close in Elementary, the only time we ever would hang out would be when Token and Tweek were there, meaning him and me were never spending any real amount of time together alone. That changed, however, when we were 12. In fifth grade Tweek had moved away. His Dad's business had run into the ground, Tweek's bullying was getting ever-worse, so his parents decided to just up and move, a completely fresh start. I think they moved to Wisconsin or something, I'm not sure. So that left just me, Craig and Token. By then, things between Craig and me were slightly better. We would often walk to and from Token's house together, and because of his pool and massive television, we spent most of our weekends there, meaning we also spent a lot of time walking together. Then one night changed everything.


'Hey dude, you almost here?' I asked down the phone. Token was due at my house any minute, along with Craig. I'd rented the original Star Wars trilogy, bought a lot of popcorn, and the three of us were going to have a sleepover.

'Yeah, uhh, I can't come Clyde.' Token said, hurriedly. I could hear a lot of commotion in the background, somebody screaming in what seemed like pain, somebody else screaming with what seemed like surprise.

'W-What? Why not? What's going on, Token?' I demanded.

'My mom's going into labour, dude! We've gotta get to the hospital!' He yelled, evidently freaked out by what was happening. To be entirely honest, being the innocent 12 year old I was, I hadn't even known she was pregnant. I just presumed she'd gotten fat.

'Labour? You mean you're having a brother?' I was in shock. 'B-But what about Star Wars? Me and Craig can't be alone all night, it'll-'

'Clyde, I gotta go, I'm sorry!' He said and promptly hung up. I was left sitting on my bed with the dial tone held up to my ear. I felt like crying.

Me and Craig can't be alone together, not for a whole night, I thought to myself. I mean, sure, we were friends, but not really. Token was the one that held our little group together. Without him we were just two socially awkward kids stuck next to each other.

Oh God, I began to feel a mini panic attack coming on. Oh no, me and Craig, this is going to be a disaster! He'll realise that we aren't friends and then he'll stop talking to me and then so will Token because of that an-

My internal crazy-rant was interrupted by the sound of somebody ringing the doorbell. Craig. Fuck.

I jumped off my bed and stuck my ear up against my bedroom door, listening as my mom let him in and told him that I was waiting upstairs.

'Thanks Mrs Donovan.' I heard him say in that monotonous tone of his. Then came footsteps, the door handle turning, and I only just managed to jump out the way in time, hitting my shoulder on the floor, before the door swung open and Craig Tucker stood before me. I looked up at him in the same blue hat he always wore, the same blue jacket and with a sleeping bad under one arm. My eyes began welling up with tears at the pain that was throbbing in my shoulder. I tried not to cry, I tried as hard as I could, but it was no use. Before I knew what was happening, a river came flooding out as I sat on the floor bawling. Craig just looked alarmed. He'd never seen my cry before and had no idea what to do. So he stood awkwardly at my door for a minute, before warily making his way over to my bed and sitting down.

'U-Uhh...Where's Token?' He asked.

'H-He's n-n-not c-coming.' I spluttered. Craig nodded slightly in acknowledgement and carried on sitting silently, not sure where to look or what to say. He waited another few minutes, before realising that I wasn't going to stop crying any time soon, then said,

'Clyde, are you okay?' I could tell he was uncomfortable, but being in such a state, I didn't particularly care. Standing up shakily and walking over to the bed next time him, I just about managed to get the word 'Yes.' out, but it was obvious that that was a lie. Craig sighed heavily, then saw the Star Wars films lying on the ground. He walked over, picked one up, and slid it into my dvd player.

'C'mon, we'll watch a movie, that'll help...I hope...' The last part was muttered under his breath so that I couldn't hear it, but I did anyway. Shuffling along on the bed, I made room for Craig and he jumped down next to me, stretching his feet out. As the movie started, I mentally noted how much taller Craig was than me. Following his actions, I stuck my feet out too and they barely made it past his knees. Still shaking slightly, with only a few tears rolling down my cheeks now, I nudged up closer to him and leant me head down on his chest.

'Dude, what the hell-' Craig tried to put up some vague sort of resistance, but seeing how bad a state I was in, he just sighed disapprovingly and let me stay there. I still remember how his heartbeat felt against my ears, in perfect timing with the Star Wars theme tune. That made me giggle slightly, and before I knew it, I was perfectly happy again, sitting upright and deep in argument with Craig over who would win in a fight – Darth Vader or Yoda. As any chance of the evening being as incredibly awkward as I'd thought it would became nil, our argument became so intense that we didn't pay attention to the first film in the slightest. After A New Hope we went downstairs and ate pizza, drank lemonade and argued a little bit more about Star Wars. We then went back upstairs again and watched The Empire Strikes Back. For the whole of that film we did silly impressions of the characters on screen, causing each other to burst out in fits of hysterical laughter. Finally we watched Return of the Jedi, eating popcorn and throwing it at the screen and booing whenever the bad guys came on. Within the last half hour of the movie however, we were entirely out of popcorn, and because it was late we were both a little sleepy. Craig had moved into his sleeping bag on the floor by this point and I was under the covers in my bed. Then, we turned the volume of the movie to low and spent about an hour chatting and gossiping about people in school, who liked who, comparing girls, stuff like that.

'So who do you think Kenny will go out with next, Craig?' I yawned, eyes drooping with tiredness. There was no response. 'Craig?' All I could hear was his slow breathing. Leaning over, I could see him fast asleep, eyes shut tight, chest moving up and down rhythmically. For a few minutes, I stared at my sleeping friend, happy at how the evening had gone. Then I began to think about Craig...How hopefully, we'd be closer now. I started realising how much I wanted to be closer to Craig. How much I loved just watching him sleep. And that's when the realisation of how I felt hit me.


'Dude, what?' I mouth silently, unsure why Craig had threw that paper at the back of my head. Then, I notice something. How...Quiet everything is. Shifting back to face the front of the class, I notice that everybody has stopped talking and is turned, facing me. I can feel as all the blood rushes to my head, my cheeks turn bright red, and I look up at Mrs Johnson. Her beady eyes are glaring over the rims of a pair of devil horn glasses, down her long, thin, pointed nose, directly at me.

'Clyde Donovan, feel free to start paying attention any time you please.' Every word is spoken meticulously, with a hint of malice, and I know she's being sarcastic. Sarcastic in the mean sort of way that teachers are when they get mad about something. I groan, knowing full well that this means I'll have to-

'Stay behind after class.' She snaps.

A couple of kids snigger, but after a sharp look from Ms Johnson, they promptly shut up and everyone gets back to working. I wait a few minutes until the volume level is at a suitably low murmur and Mrs Johnson is typing something or other on her computer before turning around to face Craig.

'Nice one.' He smirks.

'Shut up, Craig. Oh God, that was so embarrassing! Now she's going to give me a detention, my parent's will kill me!' I whisper, frantically. Craig's always tells me that I worry too much, that I let little things bother me way more than they should, that I'm 'far too uptight for a fourteen year old'. But then, he also complains that I'm the opposite; I get excited and overly-happy at the smallest of things, such as finding a penny, waking up on Friday, dreading school, and then discovering that it's actually Saturday, or whenever I see a movie with Leonardo DiCaprio topless in it, which is surprisingly often (But that one I'd never tell Craig about).

As I'm having a mini panic attack, Craig simply chuckles to himself and gets back to quadratic equations, not wanting to induce the wrath of Mrs Johnson and earn a detention himself. I quickly realise that this would most definitely be a bad thing and turn back to face the sheet of meaningless numbers and letters on my desk. They fill the page, countless squiggles, all with some sort of hidden meaning that I feel I should get but just don't, like they're all collaborating and leaving me out, laughing at me in the process.

God, I hate math.


'A-And then she yelled at me!' I moan, trying my hardest to hold back the flood of tears that I can feel brewing inside of me. 'She t-told me I'm worthless and that i-it'll be a wonder if I d-don't fail her class.' It gets harder and harder with every breath.

'Dude, she's just a stupid math teacher.' Craig sighs, kicking a stone as we walk down the street toward our houses. One perk of living next door to your best friend (Whether or not Craig admits it, we are, in fact, best friends) is that you always have somebody to walk home with. That is, when Craig isn't sick, or pretending to be sick. Which is a lot.

'I k-know but I-' Suddenly it gets too much and my eyes become wet. Craig glances at me for a second and sighs once more. Our friendship has gotten to the point where I can cry in front of him without it being awkward or embarrassing, though I'm not sure if that's because we're megaclose or just because I cry too often.

'Come here.' He mutters and, slightly unwilling, grabs my hand with his, intertwining my cold, shaking fingers with his warm, gloved ones. Craig has always been incredibly physical-contact-ophobic, never being near a person when he doesn't have too, which means no hugs, no leaning my head on his shoulder when I'm tired, no falling asleep at his feet. The only exception is when I'm crying. He suddenly seems to feel compelled too hold my hand if we're in public, pull me into a half-hearted hug if we're at one of our houses, or occasionally, if it's night time and I'm sleeping over at his house or he's sleeping over at mine, he'll let me sleep under the covers next to him. I still don't know why Craig acts like this when I'm upset, but whenever I ask, I always get the same jokey answer:

'My parents always taught me to comfort a girl when she's crying.' Usually, this makes me giggle a little, ever so slightly lifting the clouds of anxiety and despair within me.

After a couple of minutes, I sniffle and lean my head against his shoulder, the water works having been reduced to virtually nothing, and whisper,

'Thank you, Craig.' He looks down at me with a completely blank expression, as ever, and whispers back,

'Lift your head up. I don't want people thinking that we're, you know, like that.' That phrase stings a little bit, but I quickly oblige, not wanting to annoy or anger him at all. The rest of the walk back home is silent; me recovering from my small outburst, and Craig just trying to get back to his room, the place where he spends about 99% of his free time, as fast as he can. And yet despite his worries about people thinking that me and him are 'like that', his constant looking around for any kids we might know and hurrying past those we do know when we pass them on the streets, he still keeps a tight grip on my hand the whole way home.


'Mum, I'm home!' I yell, not knowing where she is but hoping that she'll hear me, and run straight up to my room. I instantly walk over to my desk and switch on the computer that sits there. Usually, I'm not such a loser that I go straight from school to computer to bed, but recently I've started spending more and more time online. Why? Because of redracer505.

The morning after Craig and I watched Star Wars, I'd woken to the dreaded knowledge that yes, I do, in fact, like Craig Tucker. My friend. Who is a boy. My initial reaction was to freak out. Like, completely freak out. I spent a good part of the day crying, because I was scared of accepting myself as anything other than normal (And normal, at that age, meant straight), because I didn't want Craig to hate me, or my parents or anybody else really. In the evening, my Mom came into my room, concerned. She knows that I'm a crier, but even for me, this particular crying spurt had lasted quite a while. She sat me down and made me tell her what was wrong. Of course I lied, made up some story about having too much homework or something stupid like that, but I realised then that things couldn't go on like this. I couldn't hate myself, or any part of who I am, because hating myself makes me cry and crying makes people worry and ask questions, which I did not want. So that night, after everybody else had gone to bed, I sat down in front of my computer and spent about an hour googling pictures of boys and girls, some deliberately sexual, some artisticy, some just normal shots. I made myself look at all these different photos, all these different people, and judge how much I liked each one. My plan was to find out for definite that night who I was attracted to so that I could start accepting that, to stop any future crying over this matter. And of course, I did. I found myself more curious over picture of guys than pictures of girls, generally more willing to look at those photos. So after that night, I made the decision to forever more identify as being gay.

Calling myself gay didn't make any difference to me, especially considering the fact that I didn't tell anybody, so for about a year and a half, I all but forgot about it, only occasionally pretending I liked girls when my friends talked about their crushes, and stealing the odd glance at Craig every now and then in gym class. About 5 months ago, I was on the internet, when I came across a chatroom website. Everybody had started using chatrooms, they were 'cool' for some reason, because we'd been told about pedophiles online and apparently it was funny to lead on pedophiles and take photos of the conversation. So while I was looking for a pedophile to talk to, I saw that the website had an 'LGBT chatroom'. And simply out of curiosity, I clicked the link and suddenly found myself surrounded by people just like me. The young people that were confused, and the older ones gave advice. It was through there that I met redracer505. We'd started chatting and discovered that we were both 14 year old boys who liked other boys. For safety's sake we decided not to share our real names or where we lived, but despite that, redracer505 somehow grew to become my secret Internet boyfriend.

As Safari opens up, I quickly type in my username, tac0mast3r, and wait eagerly for redracer505 to come online. I have to wait only a few seconds before a chat box pops up.

Redracer505:

Hey Tacoman, you there baby? Xx

Tac0mast3r:

Yeah, hey :) xx

Redracer505:

Spent all day thinking about you :P how's your day been? Xx

Tac0mast3r:

I was thinking about you too 3 my day's been all right... Could have been better :/ How about yours? xxx

Redracer505:

Aww, what happened? :( Mine was boring, nothing interesting ever happens where I live, haha Xx

Tac0mast3r:

I don't wanna talk about it. xxx

Redracer505:

Okay, but I'm here if you do, babe :) Wanna hear a funny story? :P Xx

We carry on talking for another half hour or so before he says he has to go, something about his mom dragging him out shopping. After he's gone offline, I walk over to my bed, put some music on and lie back, eyes shut, thinking about how awesome it would be if I were to ever meet my internet boyfriend, how we could start dating in real life. Everything would be perfect then because I wouldn't need anybody else or want anybody else-

Then my phone vibrates.

Craig Fucker calling

And my stomach turns summersaults

And I can't stop grinning.

'Clyde? I need your help with something...'