"As Tall as Cliffs," Margot and the Nuclear So and So's
xxx
Craig had the vague sense of height and lurching movement, and decided he was astride a horse- Jasmine. Jasmine snorted and pawed the ground, her breath clouding white in a cold dusk. Craig reached for the reins, heard clinking, and realized that he was wearing a suit of armor.
A dark forest full of twisted roots cornered him on three sides. He hoisted a lance in his left hand and looked around for his competitor.
A rumbling growl— like an earth slide, grating stone on metal, a force of nature— rattled his armor. Faithful Jasmine turned, unperturbed by the unearthly sound, and Craig saw his enemy. A serpentine creature, jagged claws gripping the earth, moonlight glinting darkly off its violet scales. He was gripped by its dangerous, ethereal beauty. Smoke billowed out of its nostrils.
Craig slammed down his helmet visor, narrowing his field of vision to a slit. He squared the lance in his arm and patted Jasmine's neck reassuringly. He dug his heels into her flanks, and she took off running with warrior instinct.
The lance glanced off the dragon's armor, splintering into a thousand pieces. Craig was thrown backwards to the ground, but he jumped up again, sword in hand, running at the beast. It roared, shaking sleeping birds out of the trees. As he ran at it, as he attacked, it shrunk until its head reached his shoulder.
His sword glanced off its skin, and Craig tossed it to the side, using the weight and momentum of his heavy body to launch himself at it. It squirmed under his grip, snorting out angry streams of smoke.
His grip wasn't enough to stop it from squirming, but it couldn't quite get away. He stared, suddenly arrested by the strange beauty of what he held. Wide eyes stared back at him, through him, and he was suddenly sure those dark eyes knew him better than he knew himself.
The dragon opened its mouth, baring a mouth of fangs. He knew it was about to blow flames, frying him to a crisp probably, but he couldn't move. He realized it was talking, had been talking the whole time, whispering urgently.
The dragon's forked tongue darted out, and he understood one whispered word.
"Craig!"
Craig woke up in horror. His reeling, fuzzy brain realized where he was, what had happened, what he was doing. He scrambled away from his newly-released prisoner.
Tweek stared at him with wide eyes strangely identical to the dragon's, save for the terror and confusion echoed in Tweek's.
Oh my God, Craig, you stupid fuck, he mentally berated himself. What had he done?
Tweek was shaking and avoiding Craig's eye. They were both speechless.
Craig glanced around the room. A few other bodies littered the floor, all still asleep. The sunlight streaming in past the curtains was a pale yellow. Craig guessed it was about six AM, and grasped his lurching head.
"Oh, god. I'm uh- What..." he forcibly stopped his stuttering mouth. The fuck was that?
The silence stretched on, and nothing seemed able to put it or Craig out of their collective misery. Perhaps only a few seconds passed, but they felt as long as an eon to Craig.
"Sorry?" he said finally, at last.
"No, it's- uh..." Tweek's face flushed a deep shade of red, and his eyes instantly dropped to his lap. His trembling got worse.
Craig groaned, and leaned against the wall. His whole body felt shaky and sick, his stomach especially. He hadn't eaten that much, and had drank a lot. He didn't remember deciding to cuddle with Tweek exactly, just a vague recollection of how warm he was, how soft his hair felt, how good and right he felt pressed up into him.
Craig closed his eyes and swallowed, forcibly blocking out that train of thought.
"You cheated on our mates last night," Tweek said quietly, trying not to wake anyone.
Craig chuckled and shrugged one shoulder. "Sorry again."
"Do you want to go make breakfast?"
Craig cracked open an eye, and made a face. The thought of food turned his stomach.
"Come on, you big baby," Tweek said, standing and holding out a hand. "We've gotta get up."
Craig only made it a few yards out of the room before he had to stumble to the bathroom and spill his stomach into the toilet. Tweek hovered in the doorway, looking unsure of himself.
"Are you okay?"
"Fabulous." His voice echoed against the porcelain. He reached up and flushed, but didn't move from the toilet. "It's fine. I'm a morning puker."
After a few minutes he stood up. He swished some water from the sink, then found a bottle of mouthwash. Tweek followed him into the bathroom, took a matching swig of mouthwash.
"So I take it that's a no on breakfast then?" Tweek asked, as they walked to the kitchen.
Craig gagged, and beelined for the sink just in case.
Tweek laughed at him. Bastard.
"I need to go home," Craig said. The thought of the upcoming day waiting for him filled his stomach with butterflies. The rude, ugly kind of butterflies. Maybe some other kind of insect. Cockroaches, maybe. His dad was leaving tonight.
"Okay," said Tweek. Craig realized he looked disappointed, and wasn't sure what to make of it. How long had they...?
"Listen, I feel like I keep apologizing for awkward shit between us, but like..."
Tweek shrugged, sucked his lips behind his teeth. Craig could tell he was gnawing at the inside of his mouth. His blonde hair was especially unruly in the morning, sticking straight up like a golden halo.
"I dunno. Sorry, I guess," Craig finished lamely.
Tweek nodded. He was blushing again and staring at the floor.
"Well, uh. I'm going to go then," he said, walking slowly towards the door.
"Ngh... N-No, yeah, I need to go too," Tweek said, walking with him. "Can't waste a whole Saturday on a hangover. Just promise you'll brush your teeth when you get home. The acid can erode your teeth, and decay can reach your bloodstream and really fuck everything up, you know."
Craig smiled. He kind of secretly liked Tweek's paranoid rants.
"Promise."
xxx
Tweek's home always smelled like coffee. Probably an obvious side effect of his family's source of income.
"Hi honey," his mother greeted him from the stove, where she stirred a large pot of oatmeal that smelled like it was burning.
"Hi mom."
"You got a package," she said, pointing to the corner of the living room. It was huge, flat, and filled Tweek with a special kind of terror. A new blank canvas he was supposed to fill for the upcoming art show.
"What on earth did you order?" she asked.
Tweek sighed, and poured himself a mug of coffee. "Nothing."
"Are you hungry?"
"No. Maybe later."
Tweek beelined for his room at the end of the hall. His room was his sanctuary. Most people at school didn't know he painted, mostly because he never talked about it, but his room was filled with half-finished paintings and art supplies. His room was small: a twin bed, a nightstand that was usually littered with coffee mugs and brushes, and his easel and tarp in the middle of the floor.
Tweek took a long swig then set the coffee on his nightstand, shoving a few pencils out of the way. He collapsed backwards on his bed and pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes. What had he done? What was happening? God, what must Craig think of him? Probably that he was some prude, stuck-up weirdo.
His phone buzzed loudly against the wood of his nightstand. He flopped onto his stomach and opened it. It was from Red.
Did u find him?
Tweek couldn't help a smile through the tight lurch in his stomach.
Did I ever. Too much to tell...
She responded almost instantly.
Smoke in fifteen?
They met in the park between their houses sometimes. Tweek agreed, then forced his legs to stand. His hands were shaking again, making it hard to lace up his shoes.
"Are you leaving again?" his mother asked, as he passed her in the kitchen.
"Ngh-No. Just going for a walk."
"Okay hun, stay warm."
She was already sitting on a swing when he got there. It wasn't so much a park, really, more a square patch of yellow grass and a swing set. Didn't really attract too many kids, what with all the smashed beer bottles and cigarette butts. He sat down on the other swing.
"Hey."
"Hey." Red took out a cigarette, and held the box out, offering one to Tweek.
"Thanks," he said.
"Sure. Seems only fair if I'm going to pester you for gossip."
Tweek sighed, and took his trusty green lighter out of his pocket.
"Circle of trust?" he asked, staring down at the two objects in his hands. He heard the flick of Red's lighter.
"Always." She blew out a cloud of smoke. The smell intensified his craving, and Tweek lit his own cigarette.
"I have no idea what happened last night," he started lamely.
"You mean you blacked out? I didn't think you were that drunk!"
"No! I mean... I don't understand." He sighed, took in a deep drag and held it in his lungs an extra second.
"I found him in his neighbor's stable."
"Classic Craig."
"Right? And then we pretty much crashed out at Token's house. Which is where it gets weird."
"How so?"
"We... I mean, he like... We cuddled?"
"Cuddled?" Red burst out laughing. "I'm sorry, that's adorable. God, that's adorable."
"Shut up."
Tweek blushed, scowled, and took another drag. It tickled his nose on the way out.
"What prompted that?"
"I don't know. Craig's a handsy drunk? He was really drunk. I think it's just one of those things."
"So did you tell him how you feel?"
"No."
"Did you talk about it at all?"
"Not really. No."
"Why not?"
"I don't know. God, everything's just all fucked up now. I can't... Ugh. Don't pressure me."
"Sorry."
Tweek one last heavy drag, then crushed out the ember on the end of cigarette against the pole of the swing set.
"No, I'm sorry. So, you and Kenny again?"
Red smiled shyly. "Yeah. Guess so."
"What happened?"
She shrugged. "The usual shit."
"You think it'll be different this time?"
She laughed. "Doubt it. But I keep going back to him like the stupid, naive girl I am, so."
"You must really love him."
She flushed deep red and made a face at him. "Tweek..."
He realized he shouldn't have said that, and stared at his feet. He couldn't even get this relationship right.
"Listen, I've got a shift soon. I'll see you Monday, okay?"
Tweek nodded and watched her leave. He swung back and forth, his feet never leaving the gravel. When the nicotine wore off and his hands began to shake again, he walked home.