AN: Hopefully you guys wanted a whole fic of Craig and Clyde being dorks, because that's what this is and I'm having entirely too much fun writing it. Let me know what you think if you like, and please enjoy!

Editing because there's cover art now! Drawn by the fantastic Cheesebirb. Just, look at how good it is. Dang.

"Hey, Craig."

It was all the warning he was given before a hand touched his knee.

Craig stilled immediately at the contact, but paid no attention to the perpetrator. Instead he looked across the living room from his couch to Token and Tweek's, mortified to find them staring.

Then the hand started sliding up his thigh.

"D-Dude!" Craig stammered – he actually fucking stammered – as he hastily shoved Clyde off of him. Clyde didn't mind the rejection. On the contrary he withdrew his arm without complaint, smiling very slowly as he lifted his pointer finger. Craig got his meaning immediately, but was hardly collected enough to scowl.

"What- what just-?!" Tweek looked completely lost.

"No idea," said Token.

Craig only realized as the static in his head began to clear that the TV had been turned off and he was the new focus of attention. Never mind Clyde, whose grin was currently eating more shit than a medically ill terrier; no, they were looking at him for answers. Unfortunately for them, the feeble noise he ended up making when he opened his mouth was hardly informative.

Clyde took this as an invitation for his own input. "I can demonstrate again," he offered, and by way of elaboration, turned to Craig and started leaning over.

"No you can't!" Craig protested heatedly. Literally, he could feel his face heating up. He snapped his eyes shut and turned away, wishing this moment – no, this entire night – no, absolutely everything – out of existence completely.

"Ahem."

No such luck. Craig opened his eyes to see Clyde leaning comfortably back on his side of the couch, now holding up two fingers. "You absolute bastard," Craig groaned. To that, Clyde crossed his arms and threw his head back in a hearty cackle.

"…So." Oh, hell. Token. "Are either of you going to explain why Clyde's being so…"

"Gay?" Clyde asked, sitting back up at once. Underhanded prick had no right to be this exited. "It's gay," he affirmed, smiling over at Craig and giving his shoulder a nudge.

Craig closed his eyes again, but when he opened them they were all still there, judging. Teasing, in Clyde's case, but Craig did his best to ignore him and that sinking feeling he got that he might try to 'demonstrate' again if Craig was silent for too long. That was the last thing he or anyone needed right now. His adversary had already done enough damage, including but not limited to creating this scenario in the first place.

Since this was really happening, and they did need a proper explanation, Craig had to be the one to give it. He needed to take control of this situation; needed to save face where he could. With that decided, Craig took a deep breath to ready himself, then looked up to face Token and Tweek.

"Okay… it's like this."

Actually, it all began the first day of their sophomore year. With Stan and Kyle, of all people.

Not everyone saw them walking hand in hand through the school halls that morning, but by the start of second period, most people had caught wind of it somehow. Everything was confirmed by Kyle himself at lunch where he got into a screaming match with Cartman, loudly proclaimed his love to Stan, and subsequently received detention with him for the excessive PDA that followed. Rumor had it the detention actually worked out quite well for them, too.

Naturally nobody came close to caring about their updated relationship status as much as Cartman, but that didn't mean it wasn't a point of curiosity.

"So, Stan and Kyle, huh?" Clyde had said that weekend while they watched commercials on his couch.

"Yeah," Craig replied. "Eventful summer, I guess."

"Right?" Clyde sat up a little. "How does stuff like that even happen? It's like, they've been best friends since forever and then suddenly: gay." He illustrated this point with his hands, gesturing nonsense before bringing them together. "Can you even imagine?"

Craig glanced over at Clyde to see him continue his illustration by poking his fingers together a couple of times. Then he closed one of his fingers against his thumb to make a circle, turned his wrist around so it was facing the other way, and stared down at this new image with contemplative focus.

"Actually… yes." Craig shifted away from the television and towards him. "Because Clyde," he inclined his head, and lowered his voice too for good measure, "I want you."

Clyde froze just as he'd dared to penetrate his finger through the reverse side of his circle. He turned his head to look at Craig, eyes impossibly wide and mouth falling open. "Wh- wha?"

It was an impulsive, offhanded joke, and it was supposed to be laughed off as such. Maybe Craig hadn't been obvious enough, or maybe Clyde was too distracted by his diagram. Either way, it went clean over his head.

Given the confusion, Craig really didn't think he could be blamed for having a little more fun with it. "I want you so much," he said, looking deep into Clyde's eyes as he moved in closer. He barely made it an arm's length before Clyde flinched and scrambled away.

"Dude!" he exclaimed in very real panic.

Craig pulled back, shoulders shaking in silent laughter as his ruse cracked away. "Your face!" And still Clyde leaned away from him, cautious and confused. Shit, what did he think he was going to do? Craig shook his head, laughing a little more audibly. "Oh man, that was great. Sorry dude, it looks like I win gay chicken."

"…Hey," Clyde said slowly, brain catching up with him at last. "Hey wait, no! That doesn't- I didn't even know we were doing that!"

"It's okay, Clyde. Some of us are secure in our sexuality, others not so much. It's nothing to worry about, really."

Craig could only gloat for so long, though, for Clyde's retaliation was as swift as it was startlingly effective. He pushed away from the safety of his armrest to launch himself at Craig, puckering out his lips absurdly. It wasn't something that should have made Craig's blood run cold, yet there he was, backing right the fuck up into his own armrest and praying for mercy from the vengeful duck-faced duck flying straight for him.

Then Clyde stopped, and Craig realized his mistake.

"Would you look at that?" Clyde said. The smug in his voice was so dense it was dripping. "Looks like it's a draw now."

Craig had cursed at the truth of it. It had ended in a draw that night; a perfectly appropriate time to call it even and call it quits. Which he could have done, easily. At the same time though, Clyde would be the one with the last laugh, and that was something he simply could not allow.

"Bad move, Donovan. It's on."

And now here they were.

"So," Token said, slowly, "you two are locked in a game of gay chicken you started five months ago. Am I understanding this correctly?"

"Yes," Craig said, as coolly as he could manage given the circumstances.

"What are you even playing for?"

"Victory."

"Ngh! Five months? You guys have been having kiss-offs for five months?"

"It's not really kiss-offs," Clyde told Tweek. "I mean, it kind of is, but sometimes we just flirt and stuff. If it's gay it counts. Like earlier! When I was doing this," he waggled his eyebrows a couple times as his hand went back to Craig's thigh.

"Will you stop that?!" Craig stood in protest. "Look, up until now we only ever did this in private," he explained, only to realize after the fact how much worse that might sound. Might and definitely did, from the way their rays of judgment now hit him even harder. Rather than just standing there and taking it, he turned his frustrations down to Clyde. "This is why it's supposed to be private!"

"I don't remember that rule."

"It was implied!"

Clyde yawned loudly and stretched out his arms wide before folding them behind his head. Then he kicked his feet up on Craig's spot on the couch and smiled at him. "Whatever man, all I know is that I have three more points – because that totally counted just now. Watch yourself," he winked, "I'm catching up."

"You're winning?!" Tweek asked Craig in disbelief.

"Of course he is," Token said blankly.

"Ten-eleven," Clyde informed.

"I guess it's not that much, for five months anyway," Tweek said to Token.

…What they didn't know didn't hurt them.

But, fitting right in with the rest of the night, Clyde opened his mouth and ruined it. "Oh, no man it resets by the month. The overall score is two-three. Soon to be three-three," he added with a sly glance Craig's way.

Goddamnit, Clyde.

"Wait," Tweek said, mind working quickly. "T-ten-eleven?! You guys, it's only the sixth!"

"Okay, that's it for me," Token said, standing. "Good night, everybody."

"Don't kick me out Token, please, I don't want to walk home with them! What if they keep playing? What if they make me play?!"

Token paused. "Okay, Tweek can stay."

"What, really?" Clyde sat up. "Come on guys, it's no homo. Don't be so no homo-phobic!"

"Aah! I'm not!" Tweek said with sudden worry.

"I just need a night to come to terms with the kinds of people I keep as friends, and adjust," said Token.

Clyde opened his mouth to protest further, but Craig grabbed his arm and pulled him up before he could do any more damage. "Come on, it's getting late anyway. We should just go." Honestly, Craig was relieved. The sooner they were out of here the better.

"Fine, fine," Clyde said, holding up his hands. "See you guys tomorrow."

"Bye gays- GAH! I mean guys!" Tweek twitched horribly. "Bye guys!"

Craig shoved his hands in his pockets, as deep as they could go. "Yeah, see you," he muttered as he turned to follow Clyde out, his slow, long strides keeping up with Clyde's short and lively ones. When they made it outside of the warmth of the estate was when Craig ironically started feeling less stiff. He needed a good burst of cold air right now, for what he had to deal with.

"I'm going to give you a chance to explain yourself."

"Oh man, that was awesome," Clyde said emphatically as he swaggered through the front gate. "You should have seen you! Sooo fucking embarrassed! Seriously, I don't think I've ever seen you so red. It looks good on you," he taunted.

"You're pretty confident for someone who had to cheat to catch up, and still isn't winning," Craig reminded as they hit the sidewalk.

"Cheating, strategy; tomato, tomato," Clyde said.

"You know that you're supposed to say them differently when you use that expression, right?"

"Okay, let me try again: tomato, your face five minutes ago." He grinned proudly. Idiot. "I found your weakness dude, and it's PDA. So did you want to forfeit now, or…?"

So maybe it was true, and maybe he wasn't the biggest fan of public displays of fake gay affection. Craig was well aware that it was a stupid game before Tweek and Token's reception, but that was kind of the whole point of it: dumb, competitive fun. They were just messing around, and that's what made it so entertaining. That and the fact that he and Clyde were on relatively equal footing, at least in general. After everything that happened tonight, the scales had now tipped in Clyde's favor.

Which reminded him. "Clyde, you seem to be forgetting something."

"Ha, okay. What?"

Craig spun on his heel and seized the front of Clyde's collar, stopping them both in their tracks between the streetlights. Clyde's breath hitched vaguely in response, but Craig didn't want to alarm him into retreat. No surprises, and no tricks. He kept his eyes level on Clyde's, keeping their physical contact to a deliberate minimum as he moved in. At least until he brushed his lips against his ear. Clyde was playing with fire, after all, and he needed reminding.

"Right now, we're alone."

Craig loosened his grip on Clyde's collar, then released it entirely as he streaked his hand against his chest. He could feel his opponent's frigid stillness, and it warmed him to the very core. Victory was a sweet sensation, but the assuring moments leading up to it were sweeter.

"You sure you want to do this?" Clyde fronted as he recovered somewhat, inching closer. Rough hands fell against Craig's hips but hesitated to travel beyond them, confirming what Craig already knew: he'd thrown Clyde off his game.

Now, a step further.

He opened his mouth not to respond, but to take the very edge of Clyde's ear between his teeth and nibble it delicately.

Craig's reward was a strained, satisfying as all hell gasp. Did he realize his predicament now? He almost felt sorry for him. Clyde could plead for mercy at any time, though; all he had to do was take a single step back and Craig would graciously grant it. Since he didn't, it was time to go in for the kill.

Craig pulled his teeth away from Clyde's ear but left his tongue, trailing it in a descent along his jaw and keeping it slow. At the same time he moved his hand away from Clyde's chest to put it over one of his hands, grasping it firmly to keep it in place – and to guide it down his own pants.

Not even that long ago, the thought of doing something even close to this to his best friend had been unthinkable. Now… well, it was amazing how many boundaries were pressed for the sake of competition.

"Fuck," Clyde managed feebly as Craig felt one of his hands let go of him and the other attempt to pull out of his pants. Craig allowed it, releasing his grip and freeing Clyde to step back and witness his final gesture – because for all his advances, Craig still had one hand entirely free, and thought it only prudent to ready an appropriate greeting for the loser.

"Jesus Christ dude," Clyde wiped his hand fervently on his pant leg like Craig's hip bone gave him gay cooties, "that was- hey! Rude!" he objected when he looked up.

"See this?" Craig smirked as he held his middle finger higher; more in his face. "This is my newest point."

Clyde let out a huff of hot air. "Shove it up your ass," he retorted.

"How about yours?" Craig replied in a low voice, and with a much quicker wit than he was usually capable of. It gave him a sudden surge of confidence that he channeled to his hands as they reached out and grabbed the ass in question.

"Dude!" Clyde shrieked and shoved him away at once. Then comprehension dawned and his shoulders sank. "…Dude."

Craig wanted to laugh, but didn't; it would make it more poignant when he pulled back both of his hands in tandem, now displaying twin obscenities. "Hey Clyde, look how many points I have now."

"Eat a-!" Clyde started, but his eyes flickered in the abrupt realization that more crude language would only drive him into the very same trap he'd just fallen in. "…Pie."

This time Craig did start to laugh, but it steadily died down as he found himself considering this. "I think I actually want pie now."

"Sucker," Clyde snickered, taking the shred of triumph where he could, but only for a moment before he too slipped into a frown. "Me too…"

Craig started walking again and pulled out his phone as Clyde fell into step beside him. "It's almost ten."

"Shit, really?" Clyde leaned over to look at his phone. "I guess Token didn't just kick us out for being not-gay. Hey, can you update the score? Ten-twelve."

"Thirteen," Craig corrected, tapping open his and Clyde's shared document where they did all of their scorekeeping.

"Oh, right. Dick," Clyde said fondly.

"Pussy," Craig responded in kind. "Where is your strategy now?"

"Oh, I'm not worried," Clyde said, so dismissively that Craig felt his confidence shake. He wasn't? After all that? "I'll see you at school tomorrow, right?" Clyde asked, eyeing him keenly.

Craig looked back, wary of the implications. He... "You wouldn't."

Clyde hummed. "I guess we'll see."

Well.

Shit.