Title: Same Stuff As Stars
Summary: Craig's always watching and never there and Kenny sees the stars.
Disclaimer: Don't know, don't own, don't sue.
A/N: This somewhat exceeded the word limit I set on myself of 2000 words but what can you do? First off, I know there are typos in here lurking because I saw them when I read through it the first time but when I went through again to fix them I couldn't find them. Pesky little things. So if you find some, please tell me so I can sort them :) Secondly, I love this pairing, so I enjoyed writing it :) Kenny/Craig friendship/romance.
Craig had a good memory. An impassive face, a fuck-it-all attitude, but a good memory. He could remember exactly how many times he'd been sent to the counsellor's office and what his mother had worn on her birthday and the song that had played on the radio the Monday before last. He never forgot a date or a time or who had pissed him off and why. He could list, alphabetically, every state in the USA and their corroborating capitals. If you really wanted to know, he could tell you, in detail, any conversation between any people he'd been near enough to overhear or be a part of in the past week. Yes, nearly everything he saw was taken and stored, placed in the back of his mind, behind the eyes that shut people out and kept until, or if, it was needed.
And so, whilst lying amidst the crisp, cushioning snow, with cold creeping up his spine but warmth by his side, he could answer his companion's question of how it had all started with ease.
"It started with a cheese and ham sandwich."
The boy next to him gave him a look of surprise.
"Really?"
"Yes. I bought you a cheese and ham sandwich."
He'd gotten a part time job at a supermarket in a neighbouring town. The work was dull but the people were interesting and the money was needed. He found that, in aid to distract himself from being constantly told to be polite and friendly to the customers and the repression of being able to flip off the annoying ones, he could get a sort of enjoyment out of studying the people around him and creating their stories and their lives. The woman with the frazzled hair and worry lines, she was a single, working mother, with more to do than time to spare. The girl dressed as a fairy was a dreamer who wanted to escape from the reality of life. And sometimes they were more interesting. The man with the smart suit and clipped tone who wouldn't meet his eye, he was a spy, tackling a mission to save America from the threat of an aggressive nation.
But when he looked up one day, on a break from the tills and instead stacking shelves, he was met with the steady gaze of someone he needn't try to figure out. If the photo backdrop eyes and untidy blond hair wasn't enough to give it away, then the orange hooded parka certainly was. Kenny McCormick.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, turning to face him properly.
"Thought I'd follow you, see where you sneak off to after school," Kenny replied.
Craig raised an eyebrow slightly and looked at him, really looked.
Kenny was an enigma, of sorts. Everyone knew he was dirt poor, quick witted and a virtuoso when it came to beauty and women. He laid bare these qualities and revelled in them with his outgoing, easy manner. But when it came to the other stuff, the important stuff, he was like a book with every word in a different language. His openness was so that Craig knew nobody really knew anything significant. It mildly infuriated him.
"Don't you have friends to be bugging rather than me?"
Kenny laughed, eyes twinkling.
"Stan's off with Wendy and Cartman and Kyle are probably torturing each other," he sighed, still smiling. "You were my best bet."
"Well, that's great," came Craig's monotonous reply, "now you've seen what I do after school you can piss off again."
He turned back to the crate on the floor and bent down to continue unpacking the food onto the refrigerator shelves in front of him.
"Nice view."
Craig flipped him off casually, not bothering to look at him as he did so, and began arranging the little boxes onto the correct places in relation to the labels.
"Now that's just bad customer service. I should complain."
"Go right ahead."
"Hmm," Kenny came closer, looking over Craig's shoulder. Craig scowled. "Are those sandwiches?"
Craig resisted the urge to roll his eyes and reached behind him to push Kenny back a bit. He twisted back around to look at him again.
"Yes. Sandwiches." He waved one in his hand. "Two pieces of bread with a filling in between. Fabulous inventions."
Kenny just nodded, letting his eyes linger for a second on the sandwich before looking away wistfully. He curled his fingers over the cuff of his sleeve and pulled gently, a subconscious act of protection that Craig didn't miss. Craig suddenly felt a wave of empathy for him. The boy was poor as anything and most probably hungry, judging by his skinny physique and the longing in his eyes and hell, Craig knew how that felt. His family wasn't exactly the right side of rich either and that was the only reason he had this tedious job in the first place. He put his hand forwards and forced Kenny to take it. Kenny looked up, taken off guard, and gave him a questioning glance.
"Have it," Craig said, "I'll pay from my wages."
For a second he wasn't sure if Kenny was going to hit him or stare at him with open wonderment and in the end it looked quite likely he might do both. His expression showed how amazed he was at this unusual selfless act but his cheeks darkened in embarrassment.
"I'm not a charity case, Tucker. You don't have to pity me." He tried to give the sandwich back.
Craig tightened his jaw slightly but let out a chuckle.
"Rest assured, I don't pity you. I don't really care either way. But you're hungry and you clearly have no money and if you really want you can pay me back," he stated bluntly.
Kenny seemed taken aback at Craig's frankness but smiled as though he appreciated it. He kept the sandwich and took a step backwards, watching Craig carefully.
"When does your shift end?"
"Around about…," Craig checked his watch, "now."
"Good," Kenny sat down suddenly, settling himself on the floor and leaning against the cool refrigerator, "want half a sandwich?"
"I don't think you're supposed to sit there," Craig muttered but, catching Kenny's eye, sighed and sat down next to him. "What's the flavour?"
Kenny flipped the box over to look at the label.
"Cheese and ham. Want some?"
"Yeah, alright," Craig took the offered bit of sandwich. "Technically we haven't paid yet."
"Well you're hardly worker of the month."
Craig gave him the finger again.
"Still going to complain about the bad customer service?"
Kenny glanced at him between bites.
"Nah," he grinned, "not today."
It was later in the week, during PE, that Kenny approached him again.
"Got another free sandwich?" he asked as he sauntered over. Craig gave him a blank look.
"You haven't paid for the last one."
"Aww, I thought it was a present."
"I thought you weren't charity."
Kenny gave him a wink and sent an appraising scan down over Craig's body, giving him a mock seductive look.
"Can I pay you in a different way?"
"Fuck off," Craig said, turning to catch a ball that had been aimed his way and chucking it back easily. Kenny laughed and touched his arm briefly, causing Craig to turn back sharply.
"I'll get you $3 or whatever it was to you tomorrow, alright?" He gave him one of his famous, winning smiles, his eyes smiling too, but before he could walk away again with that casual, swaggering stride he had, and before Craig even knew he was saying it, he called out to him.
"You can come eat at mine if you want."
Kenny cocked his head quizzically, arching an eyebrow in question.
"Well, I've got some money from my job, and we're doing alright at the moment, so if you wanted to come over, I'm sure we can fix something for you," Craig shrugged, non-committedly. He didn't say we're doing better off than you or come over so it'll alleviate some of the strain on your family to find enough to feed you but he could feel it in the air, could sense that was what was running through Kenny's mind, and creased his brow ever so slightly. That hadn't been what he meant when he'd said it at all. For the second time in a few days he was faced with the possibility of Kenny swinging at him and for the second time he watched him refrain and instead surprise Craig.
"Thanks, Tucker," he said jokingly but took a step forwards. His eyes turned serious. "Thanks."
Then he touched his arm briefly again before turning and jogging away, calling out to Stan. Craig just shook his head faintly and vowed to read people better from then on. Especially Kenny McCormick.
"Mpfph houmpf eph nimphf."
"Speaking with your mouth full isn't endearing."
"Neither's your face."
Craig just about stopped himself from rolling his eyes and took Kenny's plate from his place at the table, stacking it on his own. He stood up, taking the plates into the kitchen and uttered a throwback response.
"Glad you're so mature. Wouldn't want you acting like a twelve year old idiot with no other reply than "your face", or even "your mom", and a questionable intelligence ranking just above gnats."
He dunked the cutlery in the sink, leaning over to turn the tap on and felt, rather than saw, Kenny coming up behind him. He shifted his position so he was facing more towards the boy as Kenny leant up against the side, leisurely stretching his back and buckling one knee up to rest on the cupboard beneath the side board. The dying yellow light of the late afternoon turning dusk came in through a window and hit his face, outlining the edges and planes of his jaw and cheekbones and illuminating every eyelash on his now softly closed eyes. Craig let his gaze settle for a while. How he could look so aloof and assured and…breakable all at the same time was beyond him. He continued watching as Kenny raised his eyes to meet his stare, looking at him through half closed eyelids and letting a smirk play flickeringly on his lips.
"Are you going to do that washing up, Tucker?"
Craig tilted his head and shot him a vaguely annoyed glance.
"Are you going to help me?"
Kenny shot him a grin in return and unexpectedly pushed himself off from the side with his foot, spun around, grabbing Craig by the arms and twirling him away. Then, planted in front of the sink as he now was, he picked up a sponge and flicked a bit of water at him.
"Tell you what," he said, "I'll wash up. Kind of as a thanks."
Craig contemplated arguing but, seeing as there was little to no point, decided to simply hitch himself up onto the side and watch. Kenny hummed a little as he lathered the plates routinely, setting a gentle rhythm to the work. When he was done, rather than pulling the plug out like normal and letting the dirty water drain away, he dipped his fingers in it, running soft, rippling circles in the soapy liquid. Craig frowned confusedly and though he didn't say anything Kenny seemed to sense it and answered an unasked question.
"I like the bubbles. When I was a little kid I used to think they were a bit like stars," he looked up at Craig and coughed hurriedly. "A very little kid."
Craig didn't answer but wanted Kenny to continue, which he did.
"I think it's the way they glisten. When the water's dark and you shine a light on them they look like they're set in the heart of the universe. It kind of got me into astronomy and astrology. Two different things I might add," Kenny murmured, not looking back up at Craig.
Craig just sat there in a dumbfounded sort of silence, unsure where this personal confidential was coming from or why, but took it, adding it to his small collection of "notes about Kenny". Finally, in aid of having something interesting to reply with, he searched his brain for any information astronomy or astrology related. And to his perplexion, came up with nothing at all. Luckily, Kenny continued.
"We're all made out of the same stuff. Even you and I. We're all made out of the same stuff as stars," Kenny laughed quietly. "It brings everyone kinda close, don't you think?"
There was a pause, in which Craig tried to regain a grasp on the conversation but found it increasingly difficult as he looked at the person who, by talking about themselves, had only managed to confuse him more. He wondered if Kenny wanted an answer to his question but it seemed to be rhetorical, so he counteracted it with another question.
"Why are you telling me this?"
Kenny brushed his hair out his eyes, his wet fingers leaving glistening droplets of water on his fringe. Craig's eye followed the action closely.
"You're doing something nice for me," he said simply.
"Don't feel like you're getting special treatment," Craig warned. Kenny looked at him finally and grinned.
"Oh, 'cause you're just so lovely to everyone."
Craig gave him a fraction of a scowl and continued the conversation.
"So you're repaying me…"
"Yeah."
"…with information about yourself?" Craig asked incredulously but as he said it, he realised, and his tone evened out. Kenny looked at him pointedly and he nodded in assent. At least it proved Kenny meant to not give much of himself away and it wasn't just a failing ability in Craig to perceive people. He gave him a look to show he appreciated the gesture.
It wasn't until later that he thought about it and had to ask himself how Kenny knew information was the only repayment Craig needed.
After a while it became a regular thing. Kenny would come up to Craig at the end of the day, fall into step with him and no questions would be asked. A pattern was built, a habit, and sometimes it'd consist of going out, or accompanying him to work or just staying in and watching movies. Craig's parents liked the boy and his laidback manners and his little sister was fascinated by him, his easy smiles and disregard for Craig's apathetic attitude. It just became a part of life, and this didn't go unnoticed by their friends.
"Dude."
Craig stood by his locker, emptying his books into his bag and inclined his head to show Clyde he was listening. Clyde, leaning against the lockers, his arms folded, breathed in through his nose and gave Craig's profile a puzzled look.
"You've been hanging out with Kenny a lot lately."
"Your point is?" Craig closed his locker door and fixed his friend with an unnerving stare. Clyde either didn't notice or was used to it, because he just gave a half shrug and flicked his hair.
"You didn't use to."
Craig sighed.
"It's an arrangement we have. He eats at mine sometimes." He didn't volunteer any more information.
Clyde got a thoughtful expression on his face which, before Craig's eyes, slowly became more and more concentrated, as though he was trying to figure a highly complex sum out. His mouth worked as he chewed his lip, his face screwed up as his brain sifted through some challenging thought process going through his head. Craig almost smiled. Classic Clyde.
"I spend a lot of time with Bebe," he came out with in the end, which actually did make Craig smirk.
"Well done. You're going out with her. It's a good job really."
"Yes," Clyde said confidently but then the uncertainty crept back, "I'm dating her so I spend a lot of time with her. You spend a lot of time with Kenny…so are you dating him?"
If he hadn't been accustomed to Clyde and his unreasoned assumptions Craig was sure his mouth would have been hanging open in shock. As it was his eyes widened, as he felt conversely a flash of irritation and a strange sort of satisfaction. Not being able to find the words to retaliate back with, he gave him the coolest look he could muster and showed him his middle finger.
"So that's a…n-no?" Clyde faltered, his eyes worried.
"Yes, retard."
"Oh, okay," Clyde gave him a big smile, "anyway, I've got to go. I'm taking Bebe shopping. Then we're going back to mine."
He didn't wait for anther sentence from Craig but bumped his shoulder and turned away, practically skipping down the corridor happily. Before Craig could follow him out of school, someone stepped smoothly in front of him, barring his way.
"You can see why he came to that conclusion. It's fairly logical."
Craig looked at the person in front of him, who seemed agitated despite his calm tone.
"Piss off, Broflovski."
Kyle narrowed his eyes and put his hands on his hips. Craig wondered if he was trying to intimidate him and choked back a laugh at the thought. Kyle Broflovski had to be one of the least intimidating people he knew.
"We all know you've been spending lots of time with Kenny. What are your intentions?"
"Oh for fucks sake, I'm not dating him; you don't have to do the protective father act." Craig made to move around him.
Kyle's anger flared in his eyes and his cheeks built up a deep red colour in fury. He grabbed Craig's wrist to stop him from leaving, holding on tightly and Craig looked down in amusement.
"We both know you're nothing but a manipulative, unfeeling, sociopathic bastard who doesn't care about anyone," Kyle hissed as he clenched his jaw.
"Bit harsh there, aren't you?" Craig said, unperturbed, somewhat disinterested.
"Well if you aren't then tell me what all this is about?"
"It's not about anything," Craig exhaled, "we're just hanging out."
He watched Kyle's eyes soften slightly, his concern for his friend evident in them, and to his surprise, Craig felt a bit guilty for antagonising him. This feeling quickly dissipated at Kyle's next sentence.
"I don't trust you, Craig, not at all."
"Piss off," he repeated but Kyle held up a hand to stop him.
"But Kenny needs friends right now and if he wants to be friends with you, for some unfathomable reasons, then I'll have to. But he's my friend, okay, so don't mess with him."
Caught between snickering at Kyle's attempt to be threatening and his piqued curiosity at his words, he paused, then opted for the second.
"Why does he need friends right now?"
Kyle's face closed off and despite his best efforts, Craig could get no more out of him. His thoughts went back to the last time he'd seen Kenny, to try and pick up on anything he'd missed but could find nothing. Kyle looked at him a moment longer.
"Just don't make more problems for him okay?"
Half through his exasperation at being ignorant of knowledge and half because Kyle walked right into it, Craig murmured back his response silkily.
"I think you should be more concerned about your own problems, Broflovski."
"What?" Kyle whipped the hand that was still on Craig's wrist back so fast it was barely noticeable and then curled it into a fist at his side. Craig laughed and advanced a step, 'til he brushed his mouth against Kyle's red locks and whispered in his ear.
"Everyone knows except him. Don't be such a coward for once in your life, Kyle."
For a second he was allowed to relish in the shiver that went down Kyle's back before Kyle erupted into an explosive reaction. He pulled his fist back and jammed it into Craig's ribs, seizing the front of his hoodie and shoving him forcefully back against the lockers, trembling with rage. His eyes wide and his skin in starkly contrasting shades of red and white, he gripped the material between his hands, every part of him tense.
"You don't know anything, you fucking asshole."
Craig sneered in a way which told Kyle he'd clearly won.
"And people say I have anger issues."
Kyle let go abruptly and pushed Craig away roughly. He gave him a look of utmost loathing, which elicited a contemptuous, smug smile from the other. He turned away, to stalk off angrily, Craig calling after him.
"Hey Kyle, don't be weak, tell him how you feel."
Craig leant back against the lockers, shaking his head, and didn't notice Kenny beside him until he spoke.
"Was that Kyle? What were you talking about?" He asked curiously.
"Oh, about his feelings and stuff."
Kenny shot him a disbelieving, sceptical look but said no more about it. He pulled Craig's arm so he stood straight again and smoothed his clothes out.
"You're so untidy. Now I think we have a date with some pizza and World of Warcraft, don't you?"
There was a clock hidden somewhere in the room, ticking against the books, the bass to a relaxing wintery afternoon in the local library. A rare place of peacefulness, with the old heating system turned up a little too high and words stacked to the ceiling, it was a refuge to Craig, a sanctuary from the chaos of life. His brain worked too fast for the world around him, so when he wanted to he could retreat to here, where nothing existed outside these walls, where the world stopped for a while and his mind could wander freely into as many universes as he could release from the bound books.
At that specific time he was sitting at one of the tables, resting his cheek on his hand, poring over an ancient volume that described one universe in particular. He was tracing the constellations lightly with his forefinger, absorbing the words and devouring the meanings almost hungrily, much to the only other visitor in the rooms amusement. Apparently unnoticed, he slunk forwards stealthily, preparing to frighten him but Craig wasn't quite engrossed enough to miss the quiet tread on the floorboards over the singing clock and shut his book quickly, twisting his head round to fix his gaze on the newcomer. He let his guarded look slip a bit when he saw who it was.
"Aww, dammit, I wanted to make you jump," Kenny whined, finishing his journey and perching on the table, casting his gaze down to try and see the title of the book. "Whatcha reading?"
Craig ignored the question.
"Don't swear in a library."
"Did you just tell me not to swear?"
"Yes."
"Hypocrite. And I thought it was don't yell in a library."
"Silence would be preferable," Craig raised an eyebrow, tilting his lips into a faint smile, "especially in this library."
Kenny huffed.
"Anyway," Craig continued, "it just seems…disrespectful to swear in a library."
He ran his fingers over the dusty book, tapping it in a sort of fondness. Kenny stared at him, his intense blue eyes boring down onto Craig's upturned face, making him fidget uncomfortably. He felt like he was being scrutinised, analysed, which was the wrong way around for him. He didn't turn away though, for the irrational feeling of guilt if he did, and in the end Kenny smiled, as if he'd come to a conclusion, and he reached forwards to squeeze Craig's shoulder. Craig wondered why he felt like he'd just passed an assessment and why he felt happy at the fact he had passed.
"You surprise me every day, Craig."
"Is that a compliment?"
"Could be."
"Well if it's not definite then I needn't thank you for it."
"Ah, ever the cynical, Tucker," Kenny leant back, edging into a more comfortable position on the table. "Why are these damn books in the way?"
Craig frowned and Kenny backed up.
"Sorry, sorry," he held up his hands, "why are these delightful books in the way?"
"Perhaps because it's a table. That's where books go. Try a chair like a normal person."
Something akin to amusement danced in Kenny's eyes as he chuckled softly. As if proving a point he inched even further back onto the desk. Deciding not to enter into his childish game, Craig asked a question that had been puzzling him.
"How did you find me?"
"Your sister," Kenny said, "I went over to yours and she said you'd probably be here."
He must've noticed the slightly stunned look on Craig's face as he continued perceptively.
"She doesn't miss a lot. She sees everything. She's a bit like you in that way."
Craig struggled to stop his mouth from falling open in a gormless fashion and Kenny laughed, putting his hand under Craig's chin to raise his face and steady him.
"I don't miss a lot either. You've got more in that pretty head of yours than you like to let be known."
A flush decorated Craig's cheeks and Kenny let go, smiling. A hum rose through his closed lips and he swung his legs, a tied knot of naivety and knowledge. Without realising it Craig's throat became dry and he swallowed, casting his eyes back to the book under his hand. He shook his leg, tapping a tune into the wood in unison with Kenny's humming, until Kenny, who'd been watching him with interested eyes, slid off the desk and put a hand on Craig's knee to still the movement. Craig jolted away and scraped his chair backwards.
"Better get that book checked out so we can go do something fun. I didn't walk all the way to your house and then here to sit amongst crumbling old books," Kenny said, bemused at Craig's reaction.
Craig just concentrated on keeping his expression stoic and taking no notice of Kenny's laugh when he flipped him off.
"No, no, no…"
"Yes! Get him!"
"Mother of f-"
Kenny punched the air in joy, his hood slipping off his head from where it'd previously been positioned, tightened around his face as he'd played the game intensely. Craig gave a small groan and sunk back into the sofa, putting his head in his hands. Kenny turned to him.
"I believe I just owned you there, Tucker, for the fifth time, was it?"
His smug tone goaded Craig into snapping forwards again and grabbing the remote.
"Play again then."
"Competitive one, aren't you?" Kenny grinned. "Alright, prepare to be thrashed."
But before they could start another game, a noise came from the hall, a scuffling and a cussing and then the questioning call of Craig's mother.
"Craig?"
"Yes mom?"
"Can you help me with these bags, honey?"
Craig sighed and gave Kenny an apologetic look. His friend just widened his grin and waved him off, already turning to the screen to change the settings for his character on the game. Craig's lips twitched as he swung around to walk out of the room and assist his mother with the shopping she'd bought. He nodded at her rambling at the prices and why she didn't like food shopping, not really listening as the plastic straps dug into his palms, his thoughts in the front room with Kenny.
"Though thanks to your money I bought some really nice cake for Ruby's birthday. I mean, it was half price but normally I wouldn't even consider buying it…"
He nodded again inattentively. When she released him and went to pack the contents of her bags away, before he returned to the videogame, he noticed a floral scent as she swept past. He glanced back at her, noting the effort she'd made.
"You look nice today, mom," he stated.
She turned to him, smiling in surprise.
"Thank you, dear."
The pleasure of the compliment showed in her face and Craig wondered why he'd never told her thought before, especially considering the warm feeling it gave him to see someone else so pleasantly happy because of him.
When he came back to the living room, still a little buzzed, for reasons unfathomable to him, he paused at the doorway and just looked in. The boy inside sat in the same position as he'd left him in, fiddling with the controls, focussed on the screen. He leant against the doorframe and took in the figure in front of him. His face was illuminated by the blue flickering light from the television, pronouncing his delicate cheekbones and defining the dark circles under his eyes. His skin took on an ethereal quality, darkened as it was by the blue hue, a being from those stars he talked about. The swift movement of his long fingers over the controls while he held his body in perfect skilled control and the shine of the light around his hair had Craig forgetting he was staring for a moment. It was only the break of Kenny's motionless state that broke Craig from his reverie, as Kenny twisted his head to meet Craig's gaze.
"What are you looking at, Craig?"
Craig waited for the joking smile to come out, as it so often did, but Kenny's face remained serious, his tone soft and quiet.
"Nothing," Craig replied, straightening up and stepping into the room. Kenny matched his advance by standing up himself.
"Liar."
Craig kept his stance indifferent but his breath thrummed in his throat as Kenny walked forwards, only stopping when he was well within Craig's personal space. He tried to ignore Kenny's proximity and shut his eyes, like not seeing was not being. Kenny leant even further forwards, his breath brushing against Craig's face.
"I can't beat you if you're playing your own game against yourself," he murmured, shaking his head with a twinge of sadness.
Craig knew he didn't mean the videogame.
"You want to win?"
Kenny lifted his hand to brush the dark hair out of Craig's eyes, his fingertips lingering on his skin.
"I want you to find the right ending."
He pulled back abruptly, causing an involuntary sigh from Craig. He leant down to grab his bag, swinging it carelessly onto his back, and zipped his parka up to his chin. He didn't smile but his eyes held an emotion, a confliction of exasperation and knowing and resignation and helplessness. As he left the room, he spun back to leave a final sentence with Craig.
"Find the right ending, Craig."
Craig just remained where he was, frozen.
"Bye, Mrs T.," Kenny called as he went, opening the front door.
"Bye, dear."
Tweek watched enthralled at the white twirl, tendrils whisping into the frosty air and obscuring hazy lines across his friends face. Craig took another drag of his cigarette, his eyes falling shut on the inhale, before exhaling smoke in an elegant stream that swirled around him, masking and defining him at once. He felt, for the first time in twenty four hours, a calm settle over him, a fleeting interlude in the confusion he was currently feeling. He hadn't seen Kenny at school that day and a strange mixture of nervousness, concern and impatience had been lodged in his gut ever since he'd walked out of his front door the day before. Now, round the back of an old, disused shop, drawing in disease with one of the least confusing, most easily understood people he knew, he finally let himself relax and forget the paradox that was Kenny McCormick.
"Those are really bad for you," Tweek warned, fluttering his hand anxiously, looking at Craig with a combination of awe and worry.
"Does it look like I give a fuck? Have I ever?"
Tweek just shook his head and imitated Craig in his stance against the wall, one leg casually resting up against it, the opposite hand shoved in his pocket.
"No…" he said truthfully.
A silence settled between them, the comfortable silence that only exists between two really good friends, save for the background noise of the road and the gentle breaths as one of them inhaled the smoke first hand and the other passively. It was a few minutes before Tweek spoke again.
"So you know about Kenny, right?"
Craig turned to face him so fast Tweek took an instinctive step away. As soon as he'd heard Kenny's name all those feelings he couldn't comprehend came rushing back, filling his head again and chasing any remnants of forgetting out. He extinguished his cigarette on the wall beside him, its use worn out, and fixed an intense gaze on Tweek.
"What about him?"
Tweek smiled, happy to have gotten his full attention after having to deal with an unusually distracted Craig all day. He stepped forwards again, lowering his tone conspiratorially.
"I hear if you pay him enough he'll…make it worth your while."
"What?" Craig hissed.
"You know…blow you," Tweek squinted uncertainly, already edging back slightly.
"I know what you meant," Craig said, anger building up with every word. Tweek twitched, flustered at the turn in Craig's demeanour. "How do you know that?"
He came closer, his eyes flashing dangerously, his teeth gritted.
"I d-don't, I j-just heard it," Tweak squeaked fearfully, his eyes wide.
"Just heard it?" Craig's tone was low and controlled but his rage was still there, simmering below the surface. "You'd better hope it's not true."
Tweek just nodded, quaking, and Craig sighed, stepping backwards to let him go. Tweek took the opportunity gratefully and scurried away, throwing one last scared glance at the boy who was still standing there, emanating anger. Craig heard Tweek bump into someone around the corner but paid no heed to it, too wrapped up in his own raised emotions.
"…round there?"
"Yes, but…"
"Oh, I'm sure…"
"J-Just be…"
It was only when he heard that familiar laugh that he snapped out of it and looked up, just in time to see the reason for his fury walk around the corner, smiling that angelic smile. Craig breathed deeply.
"Hey Craig," Kenny said cheerfully, oblivious to the tension. In one hand he held an object of some sort and the other he swung by his side. His seemingly innocent casualness put a tight band round Craig's chest, until he remember just how not innocent he apparently was.
"Where've you been all day?" he asked sharply.
"Woah, why so interested?" Kenny laughed, "I've never been one to go to school religiously every day."
He eyed Craig's tense posture and mouth set in a line and slowly began to take in the negative air he was giving off. He took a stride forwards, extending the rectangular shape in his hand, that on closer inspection was a videogame.
"Look, peace offering, I bought you a game for that crappy old second hand PlayStation of yours," he grinned lopsidedly, but then his expression softened, "I didn't mean to get too personal yesterday, or push you too far."
Craig took the game, looked down at it briefly, then looked back up at Kenny. There was suspicion in his eyes now too.
"How'd you pay for it?"
"Is "thank you" a forgotten phrase?" Kenny joked, but his face was serious.
"How did you pay for it?"
Kenny narrowed his eyes, all traces of happiness and humour washed off his features. He pulled his parka around him tighter.
"Calm down, okay? What does it matter, it's a gift, if you're so goddamn worked up about it, I'll have it back."
He stepped forwards again, holding out his hand to take it back, but Craig didn't move. The tight band had returned, contracting and squeezing until he felt like he couldn't breathe properly, his lungs crushed under all the conflicting, abstruse emotions circling his chest.
"Tweek told me what you do," he managed to spit out angrily in the end.
"And what is that?"
"Don't play games," Craig growled, his own eyes narrowed furiously, "it's sick, what you're doing."
"Sick?" Kenny's cheeks flooded red, his jaw tightened in incandescent rage as Craig sensed he'd pushed him too far and he'd flicked like a switch. "Sick? You fucking bastard."
"At least I'm not on my knees for every guy that's got a dollar," Craig retorted, then winced as he heard himself say it. Kenny recoiled slightly, as if he'd been hit, and although he kept his glare in place and his fists clenched, there was still a flash of pain, and something else, that crossed his face for a moment. Craig could have sworn the pressure was enough to crack his ribs.
"It's not like I'm screwing them. And this time it was for you."
"I don't want you to do that stuff for me."
"You know what? Fucking fine. I'd thought you might understand, but that's all an illusion apparently," Kenny held up his hands like he was giving up and Craig suddenly realised what else had been imprinted on Kenny's face. Betrayal.
"What do you mean by that?"
"I mean that I thought you got what it was like to need money. And I think you'd do the same if you had to."
"What?" Craig spluttered disbelievingly, "I work in a supermarket, you're working as a-"
He inhaled steeply, halting what he was saying and biting his lip before he finished an unforgivable sentence. Kenny's cheeks darkened even more.
"As a what? Go on, say it," he said vehemently, his eyes pure ice.
"No," Craig shook his head, "I didn't mean it."
"But you're thinking it? Be honest, Craig, it's the one thing I can truly put faith in with you right now," he advanced towards Craig, his tone dangerously even and steady, "me, standing before you, am I just some whore to you?"
Kenny was standing so close he was reminded of the evening before, with their similar positions, and his breath tickled Craig's face, hot and quick. His arctic eyes were filled with heat again and when he was so near Craig could really see every shade of hurt in his face, it twisted his gut to know he'd put it there.
"Of course not," he replied, his anger fading.
Kenny inspected him closely.
"Why do you care so much Craig?" he asked finally.
It caught him off guard and before he had time to put the shutters down and think out the answer, his mouth responded ahead of his brain, stuttering.
"I d-don't…" Internally he cursed himself for seeming so unsure and the first thought that came to his mind was 'not exactly a good time to be adopting Tweek's mannerisms'. He knew how vulnerable he'd just made himself and naturally put up the defensive. "I don't care at all, Kenny," he stated, in a much more collected, impassive tone.
Unnervingly, Kenny just laughed bitterly and stepped back. He dug his hands in his pockets and whistled lightly through his teeth. His breath was white in the cold air, an echo of the smoke that had been there a few minutes before.
"I take back my previous statement. I can't even trust you to be honest." He went to turn away. "Liar."
And just like that the band, which had loosened with his anger, came back with a vengeance, shrinking its size and pushing his heart so hard Craig could hear the blood thundering in his ears and rushing in his veins. He grabbed Kenny's shoulders forcefully and twisted them both around, pinning him against the wall. Kenny's eyes widened with shock for a second, his mouth falling open in a way that only made the air so much harder to swallow. Then he smirked, losing that childlike quality on his face.
"You always were unpredictable."
"Shut the hell up," Craig muttered fiercely, his grip tightening, "what, you think you can just walk into my life and change everything? You think you can pull some pyscho-analytical bullshit and claim you know me? You're the liar, Kenny."
He held Kenny's once more shocked gaze for a moment longer, then, in an attempt to get this crushing compression off his chest, he let go, pushing himself away. He had to get as far away from Kenny as possible. It'd all happened because of him, after he'd come into his life. He needed to put as much distance between himself and the blonde boy who saw stars in soap as possible. He turned to leave but he felt a pressure on his arm and then a jolt as he was pulled swiftly back, spinning into Kenny who, not hesitating for a second, caught his hoodie in his grasp and captured his lips.
Everything stopped for an instant, the noise in his ears, the pain in his chest, as he froze, not able to react to Kenny kissing him. Kissing him flashed in his mind and with that trigger everything that was held in suspension came roaring back. The feeling of Kenny working their lips expertly, primal like, his arms encircling him possessively, protectively, drew out a strangely reckless sensation in Craig. He pressed even closer, opening his mouth so Kenny could trace every one of his teeth with his tongue. Grabbing his belt loops so they were as flush against each other as possible, he kissed him back fervently, feeling the crushing in his chest alleviate as he poured every sense of his being into their kiss, into Kenny.
When Kenny finally broke away, he smiled. Not spitefully or jokingly or regretfully but genuinely. Then he brushed the hair out of Craig's eyes, like he had the night before, and pushed him gently away, sidestepping around him.
"You still taste like those cigarettes of yours."
And like a spirit he was gone, leaving Craig standing there, dumbfounded. He ghosted his fingers over his bruised lips, his mind in the blankest sort of overdrive he'd ever known.
He only stirred when an edge of movement caught his eye. He looked over to the corner Kenny had just disappeared behind. Peeking around, looking anxious and uneasy, came the messily blonde hair of Tweek, with his big worried eyes and unsure expression. Craig looked at him vacantly for a minute, and then sighed.
"Did you hear all of that?"
Tweek nodded.
"S-Some of it," he said, not moving any closer. Craig noticed and felt a rush of guilt at how angry he'd gotten at the wrong person and beckoned him over. Tweek still looked reluctant to come.
"Come here, Tweek," he urged softly.
Assessing his tone of voice and appearing to decide it was neutral enough to be safe, Tweek shuffled forwards, still somewhat unwillingly. Craig closed the gap and looked down at him.
"I didn't mean to frighten you earlier. I'm sorry."
Tweek looked right back up at him and although seeming to be a bit taken aback by the rare apology, nodded. Before Craig could stop him he quickly leant forwards and wrapped his arms around his waist. Craig started.
"What…"
"He's done you the world of good," Tweek mumbled into his hoodie.
For what seemed like the millionth time in the past ten minutes Craig was lost for words, and didn't know what to think. In the end he simply wrapped his own arms around his best friend and said,
"Yeah, I guess he has."
It was another PE lesson, another hour of activity that Craig would rather not do, but it was cold, colder than usual, so on that crisp, frosty Friday morning he found himself running laps in a vague attempt to warm up. He could hear the calls and yells of the others in the distance and the muttered whispers of annoyance about being out there when it was cold enough for even them to complain.
As he ran past a football game he saw out of the corner of his eye a tumble of red and black and the lingering way Kyle stayed wrapped around Stan for as long as possible as they laughed. Craig laughed softly to himself too. He was always right, if only people would look long enough to see the proof. And if he wasn't mistaken, he didn't see Stan in any hurry to get up either. Idiots, he thought.
He ran on, basking in the pleasure he got from his observations being correct, and not concentrating on the dull burning in his thighs. This happiness was short lived, however, when he heard the sound of steps falling into his pace with ease. He didn't have to look to know who it was.
"Craig."
Craig merely bowed his head to acknowledge Kenny and kept on running.
"Are you ignoring me?" Kenny asked in between breaths.
"I nodded, didn't I?" Craig said, trying and failing to not snap and sound aloof. Kenny frowned.
"Can we talk about yesterday?"
With those five words every mental block in Craig's mind came down at once. He needed to block this out, block him out; he wasn't ready to talk about anything. He'd never felt more out of control of a situation in his life and he was never out of control. He knew nearly everyone inside out and no one knew him and that was the way it was supposed to be. He wasn't supposed to be feeling so many different things at once that he was no longer sure what he really did feel. It was too much.
And he panicked, doing the only thing he could think of to get away. He ran faster, pushing his body to get as far from the conversation he didn't want to have as he could. It was an impulse and stupid and it was broken easily by the words called after him.
"You can't run away from this Craig. You can't run away from yourself."
He stopped, slumped, knowing Kenny was right. All the energy he'd just had faded as the words hit home. Kenny was right. He couldn't just get away from it. He couldn't get away from himself.
Kenny caught up, breathlessly, his chest rising and falling sharply as he put a hand on Craig for support while he regained his breath. With his reddened cheeks from the exertion and his eyes bright from the chill, he looked so opposite to his ethereal usual looks, attractive in a very human way, that it was all Craig could do to not lean over and kiss him like they had before. He shook his head imperceptibly and restrained himself.
"Don't fuck with me," he said bluntly.
"You sure?" Kenny arched an eyebrow but seeing Craig didn't find it funny turned serious. "Alright, alright, I won't mess with your well protected heart."
I won't mess with your well protected heart. The words resounded in Craig's head, repeating over and over until he shut his eyes, as if the way they made him feel could be shut off from Kenny that way. There was a silence between them for a few seconds until Kenny interrupted it with another question.
"Can I come over next Friday?"
Craig opened his eyes, watching him warily, not sure if there was a trick in the question. When he saw Kenny's face was earnest this changed to confusion.
"But that's Christmas Eve." Kenny looked at him patiently like he knew he hadn't finished. "Don't you want to be with your family?"
"I'd rather spend it with you."
The weight of that sentence settled on Craig and all the implications, and suddenly he found he no longer cared. What was he to be scared of when he had the trust, a friendship, like this? The terror of not knowing or understanding just seemed like an adventure, a future to look forwards to. Craig sighed as he let go of the anxiety he'd held tight within him.
"Although," Kenny said, smiling, "I'll bring Karen if you don't mind."
And for once Craig smiled back properly. He was kind of amazed how well his face fitted into that expression.
"Anything for that kid."
Kenny extended his hand, and with it offered so much more, and after a second, Craig took it.
He watched their breaths in the air, like smoke by a fire, intertwining and mingling, wisps of words. The snow, freezing as it was, was insignificant compared to the warmth beneath them and knew it, licking at their clothes and trying to dig its icy fingers into their flesh. He could have laughed at this feeble attempt to split them apart but maybe he was just light headed from the happy smile on his friends face as they reminisced the personal timeline of their relationship. He reached across to clasp Kenny's hand in his, to warm his cold skin with his own chill, because with them cold and cold could make a spark of heat. Kenny tightened his grip and smile grew.
"So it was. I do love a cheese and ham sandwich. That was a nice one you just made me."
"Yeah, sorry, not exactly festive."
"Christmas is tomorrow. We can be festive then."
Craig gave a barely audible snort.
"I've never really done festivity. Ruby's the one who loves Christmas," he said.
"Yeah, same here with Karen," Kenny replied. He gave a slight laugh, clearly bemused, "I bet they're having a great time, right now, singing Christmas songs and doing whatever girls do on Christmas Eve."
"I hope they're having fun," Craig said, with straight honesty. He looked at the sky above them, the depths of the universe and a million lights lit from unreachable places. With his free hand he lifted his arm, as though he could catch one of those stars and bring it down to earth, to catch the ground alight and melt away the snow. Kenny followed this gesture with his eyes.
"Can you see the bubbles?"
Craig half laughed, half sighed in amusement.
"No, you freak. I see the stars."
"Shame," Kenny said, laughing, "You need to expand your imagination."
"Why?" Craig rolled over to face him, "I've got everything I need right here."
The stark moonlight illuminated the blush on Kenny's face and the bite of his lip as he tried to hide his delight at the compliment. He rolled to face Craig too and brushed the hair out of his eyes, as if it were a habit. If it's going to become one, Craig thought, it's not one I mind too much. He looked down at the contrasting colours of their sleeves until they met with their entwined fingers against the white.
"You know red is the coolest colour for stars and blue is the hottest. It seems kind of backwards."
Kenny looked at their hands too and smiled.
"It must be. I can't be having blue being hotter than orange."
That comment earned a chuckle from Craig and Kenny brought the hand at his side over to touch the smile before it left his face, as though he could hold it there for as long as he wanted.
"You're the most beautiful when you smile, Craig."
It was Craig's turn to blush, his cheeks darkening red. Kenny grinned and moved his head closer.
"Tell me more about our stars."
The intensity of his gaze froze Craig for a second but he quickly covered his embarrassment and complied.
"It looks like all those stars are out there, alone, shining in their own way."
"But?"
"Why do I get the feeling you already know what I'm going to say?"
"Because I do," Kenny teased, "but I still want to hear you say it."
Craig raised his eyebrows, letting his expression show Kenny how much of a child he thought he was. Nonetheless he carried on, rolling back onto his back and pointing to individual stars to aid his speech.
"Not all of them are. Sometimes there is a common centre of gravity and two, three, four or more even, stars can orbit around it. There's something there, that gravitational pull that keeps them together. A binary star system has two stars together."
"They shine together, revolve together, and create this light together, so bright, so far away they look like they are one. Binary stars are the couples of the solar systems. The lovers of the universe."
Craig rolled his eyes but Kenny's words brought out a soft feeling inside him, his every part of him taking a comfort he didn't know he needed in his voice.
"You are such a loser Kenny."
"So are you. But you're sweet, reading up on what really should be common knowledge, just for me."
"How'd you know that?" Craig asked sharply, wondering when he'd let slip about the book from the library or when Kenny could have possibly found it. Kenny gave him a pointed glance and Craig knew if he wasn't inhibited by lying down he would have shrugged.
"I know everything," he said matter-of-factly.
"Asshole," Craig kicked him with his feet.
"Right back at you. You love me really," Kenny kicked back but after a few seconds became still and serious. "You care about me."
Craig closed his eyes and knew there was no escape. It wasn't a question. He wasn't even sure he wanted to escape from it. He'd always been big on truth and facts and proof, and if that statement and the feeling in his chest when he looked at Kenny weren't enough to fulfil his beliefs he didn't know what was.
"Yes," he said simply, his eyes on the twinkling constellations.
"And that's why you reacted so badly to my," he paused, his lips twisting as if there was a bad taste in his mouth, "work. Not because of morals or pride but because you damn cared."
Craig stared up at the sky and exhaled slowly.
"Yes," he repeated. He couldn't deny anyone of those things. "I probably would have articulated my feelings better at the time if I'd actually understood them."
Kenny smiled.
"I bet you hated that."
"Just a bit."
"I hated it too."
Craig frowned and glanced at him, his brow furrowed.
"Hated me not understanding?"
"Hated you not understanding how much I hate everything I do. I hate myself for it. It hurt to have you hating me for it too."
The sincerity in his tone hit Craig like ten tonnes of brick and he quickly grabbed his hand again, holding on as though he'd never let go.
"I didn't hate you," he muttered urgently, wanting to dispel that thought from Kenny's mind as fast as he could, "I just felt hurt too. It was irrational and I'm…" he paused, then said it, "I'm sorry."
Kenny shut his eyes.
"I'm sorry too."
A silence settled, nothing but unspoken thoughts and burning stars and the lilting companionship they felt. It was Kenny who broke the silence, but what he had to say made it not an unwelcome interruption.
"I trust you."
Craig's response was instant.
"I trust you too." He shook his head slightly, "Wow…didn't even know I did." He smiled at Kenny, "But I do."
Kenny smiled back.
"Good. Look, I just…don't break that. Please."
He looked at Craig, his vulnerability showing, himself out on a line. Craig could see he was praying for the right response and Craig gave it, in all truthfulness.
"I won't. I promise."
This reassurance visibly relaxed Kenny. He took a deep breath.
"My parents fight a lot. They have these big arguments, violent ones. I can't stand it," his strong, determined voice shook slightly, shocking Craig as much as the first time Kenny had opened up to him. He nodded, telling him to go on if he needed to. "Kevin doesn't really mind, he just goes out with his friends. If I was on my own I could just block it out but…Karen. She hates it. It tears her apart."
"And that tears you apart?" Craig asked gently. Kenny nodded gratefully.
"Yes. So I take her out, if I can. And that needs money."
"Ahaa…" Realisation dawned on Craig, horrible, obvious realisation.
"And if that's not possible I just give her a big hug and we play a game. So many nights she's slept with me in my room. I worry about her, all the time."
"And I was a distraction from the life you have at home," Craig drew Kenny in closer and placed a chaste kiss on his forehead. Kenny leant into him instinctively.
"At first. Not now," he sighed. "I'm saving up, to get us away if home doesn't get better. I hate what I do but it's necessary. To have that back up."
"You need a safely net?"
"Yes."
If this was what heart break was, Craig hated it. The overwhelming feeling of despair and helplessness and contrastingly, protectiveness. He cleared his throat, his arms tightening around the blonde boy.
"I'll be your safety net, Kenny," he said, fiercely as though he could fight off Kenny's demons alone. Beneath his touch he felt Kenny loosen up, his whole body sag in relief as though a weight he'd been carrying for a million miles had been lifted. His eyes seemed to let go a bit.
"Thank you."
"No problem."
"For everything. I don't even know why you did all this for me."
"Because I understand."
"Yes," Kenny laughed slightly, "I guess you do."
The second silence lasted longer, with Craig's arm around Kenny, lying amidst that crisp, cushioning now, with cold creeping up their spines but warmth by their sides, the bubbles above them and the stars at home. A balance surrounded them, everything still and chill and perfect.
Until Craig's phone buzzed in his pocket. He was tempted to ignore it but Kenny nudged him with his elbow in supposed encouragement. Craig pulled the phone out and opened the text.
Merry Xmas!
-Clyde
"Clyde seems to forget his name shows up on my phone anyway," he muttered, but smiled at his friend's message. He tucked his arm around Kenny again, the movement natural. He leaned in to whisper in his ear.
"It's Christmas, Kenny."
Kenny placed a hand on his chest, over his heart.
"Best Christmas ever."