Author's Note: Okie dokie, so I saw X-Men: First Class and it was freaking awesome, people. If you guys like slash, watch that movie because I swear to god, there is such a freaking canon couple.

Anyway, so here's the next chapter :) Dedicated to theyellowsky as always so really you all can review but she better review or else I'll kick her ass, and I suggest you guys check out her stuff and PM her cause she's a freaking beast. Yup, and super patient ;) Hope you (oh you know who you are) like this and you (yeah, you!) better review (or else!)

Chapter 2: A Bit Too Close to Home

"I – uh – don't think that this, you know, is all that good of an idea, Craig – I mean, what if I knock something over or – Jesus, what if -,"

"You already broke my lamp," he stated in a deadly calm voice.

"…a-a-accident, remember?"

Craig turned his back to me and headed back over to his stereo in the corner. This was day 2 of our little deal and Craig was sure that he'd found a way to get rid of some of the "pressure" – with moshing. As soon as his hand touched the dial, his bedroom was absolutely filled with the demented screams and thunderous bass of scream-o music. He was dancing – if you could even call it that – like he was possessed, arms and legs jerking around while his head was just a blur of his dark hair.

"Come on Tweek!" the shorter teen hollered over the heavy-metal. "Just dance!"

After another moment of hesitation, Craig grabbed my wrists and began to move them roughly as if I were a ragdoll. But soon, I found myself moving of my own accord. I even started to head-bang a little, my blonde spikes flipping around my face and obscuring my vision of the dark haired teen.

And then Craig shoved me. Hard.

My back collided with the wall behind me, my head snapping back to become acquainted with the firm surface as well. For the briefest of moments, I saw stars and suddenly wondered if I'd broken a brain cell or something, but then something else came over me.

I pushed back. Harder.

Craig stumbled backwards until the back of his knees hit square against his bed frame, causing him to fall backwards onto the deep blue comforter. I felt satisfied in pushing him down, but I still felt pretty bad – what if I injured him? I approached the bed and Craig's motionless form and reached out to poke him. But then Craig sat up, looking pissed just by the ever so slant of his brows and the grim line his mouth was taking on. He snatched my hand none too gently and yanked.

"Ack-!"

With a yelp, I toppled over onto the dark haired teen, who in turn grunted when my whole weight was on top of him. Craig squirmed out from underneath me and aimed to put me in some sort of headlock, which I quickly rolled away from.

But as soon as I had reached the edge of the bed, Craig pounced, landing right on top of me, straddling me and pinning my legs down by clamping his knees over my thighs. He leaned over to restrain my wrists, but as soon as his fingers made contact with my skin, I shifted all of my weight.

The sheer look of surprise of Craig's face when I turned the tables on him was priceless. We ended back at the center of his bed, me doing an awkward push-up position over him with my large hands grasping his forearms to hold him down. Craig's legs were now hooked behind on my lower back while my calves dangled gawkily over the side.

For a moment, we stayed like that until the fight and tension left both of our bodies, leaving the two of us to stare-down the other. I heard a faint thumping in my ears and I could my heart beating within my own chest, but when I looked down on Craig, I saw that one small portion of his neck was pulsing. As if in a trance, I freed one of my hands only to trail it down his jaw line with ghosting fingers and finally rest upon the place of interest on his neck.

"Huh," I frowned, "I – uh, well it s-seems you do have a-a – you know, a heart."

Craig just glared back, obviously not amused. I pushed myself up off of him and walked over to turn the music down. Behind me, I could hear Craig rummaging around in his back pack for his homework and then flop back down upon his bed.

"Okay, so explain this to me, smart guy," he demanded in that lightly nasally yet morose voice. I rejoined him back on the comforter, crossing my lanky legs to fit in beside him.

"Oh, this s-s-shit's really easy – ack! – not like you're stupid! Or –er, anything like that…," I trialed off, opting instead to just shut my mouth than ramble on uselessly. Frustrated, I pushed my tangled mess of blonde hair away from my face and blew the remaining strands away with a huff.

"Moshing didn't help?" Craig asked quietly.

I shook my head, but then added hastily, "Um, don't get me wrong, though! It was – uh – fun! Yeah, t-totally! Loads of fun, but uh…no, I'm still uh…still twitchy me."

Craig just shrugged, saying, "Well, I was hoping it would help just loosen you up. It'll take time but don't worry." He paused and stared down blankly at the open text book. "So…what the fuck is that?"

His finger landed unceremoniously on the symbol theta.

"Oh, it's just a, you know, like a-a-a, uh Greek letter."

"…why the fuck is there letters in math?"

"I – erm, I don't really know."

Craig pushed his math book to the floor with his finger with a quirk of his lips before glancing back at me. Papers flew across the carpet and I couldn't help but wince as there was the distinctive sound of crunching as the book's pages bent at wrong angles face down.

"How about some more moshing?"

Tutoring Craig was going to be more challenging than I thought.

. . . . .

Day 3 began with Craig announcing his lesson for the day.

"I'm going to teach you how to play guitar."

I nearly dropped my pencil – until of course my binder went smashing to the floor, effectively making everyone in my graphics art class turn and stare at the two of us. My only class with Craig, and he usually sat on the other side of the room from, that is as of recently, now opting instead to just take this one girl's seat, forcing her to trade spots with him.

"What?" I hissed. "Ack! I can't – I mean, no – yeah, I just can't. I would suck! You know, hence why I-I never uh learned cause it would just- just be awful."

He gave me that bored look.

"Meet me in the music room at three-thirty, and don't be late."

Overhead the bell rang, thus signaling the end of class. Craig swept everything from his desk back into his backpack like some sort of magician and disappeared out the classroom door – again like it was magic or something.

I wanted to punch Craig in the face because for the rest of the day I was worrying about how shitty I was going to sound on his guitar. Christ! There was no way – no freaking way – I was going to embarrass myself in trying and epically failing at playing an instrument. I learned my lesson with the trombone – never again!

But I suppose it was something of a miracle then how I was pacing the linoleum floor of the music room at 3:15…3:16.

As he's said, Craig showed up right on time, and just as he'd said, he was holding onto a dark wooden guitar in one hand. Craig just looked right holding the instrument, as if it were made just the perfect shade for his black jeans and dark blue hoodie, plus the usual chullo hat with the golden dangly-things. He arched an eyebrow at me expectantly before gesturing to the stack of chairs against the back wall. I quickly took the hint, snagging us two chairs.

It was weird, just him and me, sitting alone in a giant empty classroom. We sat in the stillness for a moment, Craig tuning up his guitar and muttering something about not having a pick, more or less to himself.

"So-so…how – er, d-did you learn how play – the guitar, I mean?" I asked, pointing awkwardly at it.

"Long story," he grunted, but then glanced up at me, adding, "S'got a lot to do with Cartman and them, and some pan-flute bands."

"Oh…," I trailed off, deciding the smartest thing to do would be to just can it. Instead, I fingered the hem of my plain black t-shirt, trying to pick off any loose strands of thread without pulling it all out.

"Alright," Craig finally said after playing a few chords, "just sit there and I'll play. Close your eyes and just relax."

The dark haired teen began to strum, his fingers plucking effortlessly at the strings in almost a hypnotic rhythm. Slowly, he formed a soothing melody and I found myself staring blankly at his fingers as they glided across the strings.

"Wow…you – uh, I mean – you're really g-good," I stuttered, feeling suddenly very self-conscious. Craig glanced up, those dark eyes studying my every move with such intensity that I forced myself to look away. The music stopped, the last chord echoing off the walls before fading away.

"Come here."

It was a simple enough command, but coming from Craig while he was looking at me like that. I felt as if there were rabid butterflies assaulting my stomach. Craig moved his guitar away from his lap and, with his free hand, patted his thigh. No, he's kidding…right? I thought frantically, trying hard to compose myself.

"C-Craig, I just – er, d-d-don't think-,"

He silenced me with just a tilt of his chin downwards, those eyes staring up at me so solemnly through his dark lashes. Biting my lip, I rose from my chair and took a few halting steps towards his, hesitating once I got within arms reach of the other teen. Craig grasped my wrist and tugged, effectively pulling me onto him which left me to wriggle awkwardly until I was able to turn around and sit – somewhat – properly.

The height difference definitely made things worse, me being like some over-sized child to an under-sized Santa Clause. And oh god, what if Craig thought I was too heavy, but he was just suffering in silence? Am I too fat? No way, I do cardio – but does that make you lose weight? And my bones! I'm tall, oh Jesus, Craig's probably dying!

Suddenly the guitar was being angled across my lap as Craig scooted forward with his arms reaching all the way around me to guide my own hands onto the correct spots. The dark-stained wood was cool under my fingers while Craig's palms resting on mine were starkly warm – but not too warm or sweaty, just like a I'm-not-a-zombie kind of warmth.

"Okay, grip the neck like this and then strum like this," Craig firmly presses his hands onto mine until I conform to his shape, which was hard, considering his hand was about half the size as my own.

I swallowed my fears, and cautiously plucked out a few notes. Craig played with the knobs at the end of the neck, occasionally instructing me to play a certain string. And then I mustered all the courage I had and let my hand drop down the strings and produce a semi-harmonious sound.

"That's good," Craig murmured, his breath rolling off my neck. For a moment, my muscles went slack against him, until I felt a shiver run down my spine.

"Uh, yeah! That – er – g-g-guitar's fun! But, studying? Y-yeah! Heh, cause…um yeah," I jolted out of his lap. Craig was watching me with that slow and curious way of his before he began to answer.

"…No, not today," Craig got up from his seat and slung the guitar's strap back around his shoulders. On anyone else, a guitar looks just douche-y but on Craig…it looked right.

With that, Craig walked off, his sneakers tapping against the classroom floor before the door shut softly behind him. I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding in.

Author's After Note Thingy: Alright, so we're breeching the pseudo attraction. I planned to make this fic fairly short, but aw hell with it, I'm gonna make it as long as I freaking want and write it as long as it takes until I'm satisfied with it, so yup. Hope you guys (and one in particular) liked it :D Review!