Finally got some spare time to finish another chapter of this depressing fic! And just in time for finals too! (Thank the lord.)

Again: I really appreciate all the faves/follows/reviews you guys! Please feel free to give ANY feedback/thoughts/literally anything because I'm truly just wingin' it at this point, man.

BTW - since I know nearly everyone's stress levels are through the roof because of finals/midterms, I'd like to wish y'all the best of luck on your exams!


The Tweak Bros. Coffeehouse location in South Park has been given quite the makeover since Tweek was promoted to manager back in the early 2000s. The most significant renovation Tweek has done on the structure is adding a second story. The upper level was initially meant to be a photography studio for Craig, but it's now become a combination of a showcasing of Craig's works, a downsized library, and an additional area where students attending the local community college go to study for their midterms. It has definitely reeled in a lot of business and yet Tweek views it more as a curse rather than a blessing nowadays.

Other than that, he hasn't replaced the airy decorum from a decade that is now stowed away within the archives of the minds of Baby Boomers - much like a lot of small businesses in South Park during the era of gentrification have done - but, rather, has simply refurbished the establishment to fit modern standards in terms of aesthetics.

Tweek has come a long way since he was an inexperienced 19-year-old high school graduate who was hardly ready to be shipped off to college. Then again, a lot of things have happened over the last eight years.

Every week for the past five and a half weeks, Tweek and Kenny McCormick have been getting together to discuss various topics. Kenny is hoping to major in psychology and, according to him, their sessions are his way of gaining his required hours of experience. For the most part, Tweek only ever wants to talk about the past; Craig is the main subject of most of their conversations. Kenny and Tweek met through a friend, Tweek thinks. He felt an instant attraction to the younger blonde, though it has never been the mutual romantic attraction Kenny seems to think it is, and so time has flown by since they first began talking.

Ike Broflovski and Georgie Smith, two individuals Tweek has watched grow into fine young men, have been more than glad to take over for Tweek while he attends his therapy sessions. Ike had taken up a summer job at Tweek Bros. nearly three years prior and had quickly gained Tweek's trust. This was because Tweek had become a fill-in for the older brother Ike had lost to Princeton. They'd developed a rather close bond, and it was easy for Ike to see that Tweek has not been able to cope with Craig's death even to this day. Even Georgie worries about Tweek's well-being more often than not.

On this occasion, a good chunk of the 'fifty' minutes that Tweek got for each session has been wasted by Tweek's reluctance to climb the winding staircase so that they could have more privacy upstairs. Whether he cares to believe it or not, Tweek has only gotten worse since his little performance in the forest a couple weeks ago.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Kenny asks regarding the intervention Stan had held for Tweek, brows cocked expectantly.

"No," Tweek blatantly grunts and uncomfortably stirs in his spot. His eyes drift from photograph to photograph until the tears are too thick to see through.

"Okay," Kenny nods, "that's okay. Tell me what's wrong, then."

Tweek jerks his head to the side while sharply inhaling through his teeth. The heels of his loafers click against the hardwood flooring as he mindlessly bounces a restless knee. "I... I-I don't know what's wrong."

"Well, obviously something's wrong. Is it the pictures?" Kenny suddenly turns in his seat to look back at the framed photographs hanging on the wall. Then, without another word, he stands up and walks over to one of them. "Is it this one? The one with you and the VW bus? Man... Was that yours?"

"Oh, God," the older male suddenly cries out and fell forward as he hides his face in his palms.

Kenny watches the other in silence and draws in a deep breath, thereafter releasing it as a sigh as he turns his head and examines the photograph.

Tweek beams brightly at the camera. A gorgeous, sea foam green Strat is strapped to his left shoulder. He looks terrible: the deep shadows beneath his eyes do anything but complement his crystalline green eyes, a deep crimson is burned into chiseled cheekbones, and sweat plasters his otherwise disheveled blonde locks to his forehead.

Stan stands beside him, clutching his electric blue Les Paul like it is a squirming infant, as does Leo Stotch - the Shivs' bassist - who has his back turned to the camera in order to show off the Squier P bass that is nearly his size, and Jimmy, hidden behind the two guitarists, holds two drumsticks up rather than the crutches he now sports. Craig is trying to get Leo to stand closer to the rest of the band, and Stan is growing restless.

Tweek really shouldn't have been around the rest of the band. He shouldn't have been outside period. Still, Craig really wanted a picture of the members of the Shivs all together. This was going to be Leo's last gig with the guys, after all, because he was going to be moving to London to study abroad for a year after the end of their second semester of sophomore year.

"It's all my fault, Kenny," Tweek's voice disrupts the little scene the photograph sets. He's standing beside Kenny now and has his arms wrapped around himself insecurely. Unable to bring himself to take his eyes off of the photograph, the ever-flowing stream of tears running down freckled cheeks never ceases to dry up. "If it weren't for me - if I hadn't been so goddamn stupid, C-Craig... He'd still be with me today."

Kenny studies Tweek's features for a short moment, then directs the two of them back to the coffee table they were previously sitting at. Once he's calmed Tweek's nerves once again, the patient blonde gets comfortable in his own seat before asking: "... Can we try something new, Tweek?"

That word - "new" - has always made Tweek flinch. It makes him think about times when Stan wanted Tweek to learn new riffs that seemed to be impossible for human hands to play or about when Craig used to say that Tweek needed to buy a new pair of jeans because his current pair was looking kind of tight - and not in a good way. Change makes him uncomfortable. Tweek has always believed that there is nothing wrong with the "old" no matter how someone may put it.

Still, he can't help but let the ghost of a whisper pass his lips: "Y... Yeah, sure."

"I want to talk about you today, okay? Let's... Let's forget about Craig for right now, and let's focus these next fifty minutes on you."

"N-No..." Tweek instantly refuses with a firm shake of his head. If there's one thing he hates more than change it's himself. Especially after Craig's death. "I don't want to do that."

"Is there something you're hiding? Is that what's bothering you? What's been bothering you?" Kenny raises his brows, blue eyes locked on Tweek. He shrugs and then grabs his coffee mug, pulling it to his lips before taking a long drink. When he sets the mug back down, he's still staring into Tweek, and it's the type of stare that makes Tweek melt. Tweek doesn't know whether that's a good thing or a bad thing. "I don't need an autobiography Tweek." Kenny leans forward and places his elbows on his knees, eyes narrowing. "Who are you, Tweek?"

Oh, God. Tweek hasn't felt this type of pressure since the very first time he and Craig had had sex. Sober, heartfelt lovemaking, that is. Kenny's gaze makes him feel naked - and it's been a very long time since he's been anywhere near naked in front of anyone - and so it's an especially nerve-racking feeling. Kenny is asking to see all of Tweek - the good and the bad, the attractive and not-so-attractive aspects, and every nook and cranny that even Tweek tries to push to the back of his mind so he never has to think about. And somehow this wasn't right because Kenny is not Craig.

"... I'm... I'm Tweek Tweak," Tweek starts uneasily as if he isn't sure that the information he's about to disclose is true, "... Son of Richard Tweak, CEO of the Tweak Bros. Coffeehouse corporate chain. Big stuff, man. But... I'll be, uh, 27 in... Well, shit, in a few months from now. I studied at the University of Denver and got my bachelor's in business management. Um..." He looks to Kenny hopelessly. There's not much for him to talk about, for he feels he's not an interesting individual in any sense of the word.

"Tell me about your hobbies. Hell, tell me about things you would like to turn into hobbies." Kenny once again leans inward and beams the friendliest grin Tweek has ever seen. It seems like the room is slowly closing in on the two; Kenny has gotten very close and Tweek was just now realizing it. "I want to hear about your likes and dislikes and your passions and dreams."

"O-Oh..." Tweek looks down at the palm Kenny has rested on his knee. The touch itself is soothing, but it's been such a long time that he's forgotten how to react to these advances. Either way, Tweek chooses to focus on the fact that he's craving nicotine badly right now rather than think about Kenny wanting to fuck him. "I... I'm a musician, so... That's a passion-slash-hobby of mine. I appreciate music's ability to capture feelings I wouldn't be able to express through words. Like... Making music is so intimate - almost as intimate as sex itself, r-right? It becomes something that you'd want to protect or guard with your life. It becomes almost... Almost tangible, in a sense. I..." Tweek's voice fades as he looks to Kenny, who is staring right back at him yet again. Now Tweek thinks he's going insane because Kenny's face is nearly close enough to Tweek's that the older blonde can practically taste his breath. It's almost as intoxicating as a drag from a cigarette is, and Tweek can't help but let his eyelids flutter shut as he breathes the other's minty air in.

"Don't stop," Kenny practically murmurs against Tweek's lips. But before either of them are given a second chance to think, they've been locked into a kiss so dreamily loving and gentle that even Tweek understands pulling away would be exactly like disrupting the majestic scene with Craig in the forest. Tongues aren't quick to begin a fierce wrestling match; instead, they gracefully dance in such a way that Tweek must hold onto Kenny's shoulders lest he rapidly melts away.

Like a drop of blood in a glass of milk does a deep blush burn into Tweek's cheeks as skilled hands start exploring his body. They travel south as his body is rocked to and fro, and when he opens his eyes to gaze into a pair of glittering blue eyes, he finds himself stroking back soft, dark hair. The passionate kiss is deepened as a strong hand palms his aching groin, evoking a few stifled groans from both males.

"Craig..." Tweek croaks through gentle sighs more than once. His name is called out in that insanely erotic and nasal voice only once or twice - which is all Tweek needs to be set on edge. Only Craig knows how to unravel Tweek and thereby drive him crazy in the best possible way.

Except the Craig that Tweek is letting fondle him currently is actually Kenny.

Both of the blondes are visibly disappointed by this abrupt reality check, which has been brought about by the sudden phone call Tweek is receiving. Nonetheless, the older blonde awkwardly scuffles off of Kenny's lap before freezing in his spot once he reads the name of the contact calling. Kenny is too frustrated to question the other blonde's change in disposition right away, but Tweek's greeting definitely catches his attention:

"... C-Craig?"

"Hey."

There's an uncomfortably long silence that follows. Tweek is too shocked to say anything and so Kenny can't get any answers from him. 'Craig' - who Tweek has already convinced himself is just some asshole playing an insensitive prank on him - doesn't seem to mind this silence.

"Craig," Tweek finally echoes. The air has been knocked out of his lungs, making it extremely hard to speak. "Where are you? How did you get this phone?"

"You need to stop this, Tweek. I want you to stop."

Tweek goes pale as his eyebrows furrow. "S... Stop what, Craig? I... I'm confused! H - Who are you with? W-Why aren't you with me? Wh - Please! Can you just-"

"No, Tweek. You need to accept the fact that I'm not in your life anymore, okay? I don't want to be any part of this. You need to stop bringing me into everything. I'm destroying everything that matters to you - can't you see?"

"You are everything that matters to me, Craig! Why won't you tell me-"

"I'm not there, Tweek. I'm not anywhere, remember?"

"B-But you are here now! Craig - oh, my God-" Within moments, the tears have welled up in Tweek's eyes again as he clutches the phone in both hands. Kenny is too confused to do anything because he's now worried that Tweek isn't simply 'another grieving adult' but that he might have some serious mental issues.

"Don't cry, Tweek. Please don't. I... I just want you to be happy." There's another pause, but this one doesn't last half as long as the first. "I love you."

The call is ended instantly, and this becomes the first time Tweek has ever failed to return an "I love you" to Craig.

Kenny is left speechless. Tweek is uncontrollably sobbing while hopelessly trying to redial the number. Ike stands at the top of the staircase behind them, a tray with two steaming mugs of coffee in his arms. His eyes flit back and forth from Tweek's trembling figure to Kenny's obvious - and neglected - erection a couple of times before he clears his throat.

"I don't think he's ready for that yet, Kenny."