A/N: I stayed up entirely too late to finish this chapter... -is going to be so dead at work tomorrow- But, but I had to get everything in my brain out, and what's wrong with a little less sleep, right? Once again, thank you SO much to everyone reviewing... I hope you enjoy this, I really do...
Kenny was still alone in the Tweak's kitchen, sitting at the table, when he heard the knock on the door. Knowing it could only be Kyle and Stan, Kenny pushed himself up from the chair he was on and went to go answer it.
"Damn, dude, your eye looks awful," was Stan's greeting as he and the redhead came inside.
Kenny shrugged. "Yeah, it sucks."
Kyle looked at him in concern. "You okay?" he asked, tilting his head to the right and watching Kenny carefully.
Another shrug.
It was Stan's turn to look concerned. "What's up?" He looked around. "Where's Tweek?"
"Upstairs. Hiding from me." Kenny felt like kicking a hole right through the wall of the living room. "Because I'm fucking stupid."
Stan and Kyle shared a glance, and then they each took hold of one of Kenny's arms and led him to the couch. The three of them sat down together and Kenny leaned back, closing his eyes. Kyle and Stan waited for him to talk. Stan noticed that Kyle's hand was still resting on Kenny's arm, and he smiled to himself.
"I should've listened," Kenny muttered, not moving, not even opening his eyes. "I was just so... He said he liked me, and I just got so happy, so I said I liked him too, and he just...freaked out and took off upstairs."
At the words, "He said he liked me," Kyle had moved his hand from Kenny's arm so quickly it was like he'd had his hand stuck in flames. He pulled his legs up and wrapped his arms around them, resting his head on his knees.
Stan wanted to just push the two of them together and see what happened. Instead, he said, "I'll go talk to him." As Kyle moved to follow, Stan caught his best friend's eye, shook his head once, and directed his gaze towards the blond on the couch. They had a short argument with their eyes, which Stan ended up winning. Shooting Kyle a tell-him-now look, Stan went upstairs to go see Tweek.
Kyle sat beside Kenny, silent. He was lightly tugging on his own hair again. He didn't understand why Stan was so determined to get him to tell Kenny he had a crush on him. Kenny didn't want him. He'd pretty much made that clear when he'd hit on everyone but Kyle. Even before, when he was still dating girls, every so often he'd come over to Butters, or Stan, or Cartman, and greet them with a sly smile and a, "How you doin'?" He'd never done that with Kyle. Ever. Kyle sighed softly.
"I should have listened," Kenny said again. He turned his head towards Kyle and opened his eyes. "You warned me."
"But you said he said he liked you." It took all of Kyle's strength to keep his voice normal.
"He did." Kenny shook his head, shaking some blond hair in front his eyes like he wanted to hide. "But he also said that he's in love with Craig. I didn't listen to him, I didn't listen to you..." He laughed but it was hollow-sounding, and it made Kyle want to hug him. "Why do I suck so much, dude?"
"You don't suck," Kyle said immediately.
"Yeah, I do. I fuck things up all the time." Kenny gave Kyle a look. "I can't do relationships, I get in fights like three times a week, and I'm going to fucking fail eleventh grade because I suck so much." He let out a tired sigh. "I'd say I want to die but I can't even do that right."
"You can do relationships, Kenny," said Kyle, aware of the fact that, from Kenny's standpoint, his focus on that part of Kenny's mini-rant was strange. "You just haven't...found the right person to...do a relationship with. Or something," he finished, feeling himself blushing. Goddamn him and his hyper-tendency to turn red.
Kenny blinked at Kyle. He'd expected his friend to say something about Kenny wanting to die, not about his love life. He looked closely at the redhead beside him. Kyle had been the first person Kenny had come to when he realized that he liked guys just as much, if not more, than girls. (One guy in particular, but Kyle didn't know that—Stan did, but Kenny had made him swear on Wendy's life that he wouldn't tell Kyle.) Only four people knew about Kenny's attraction to the male gender: Kyle, Stan, Tweek now, and Kenny himself. Sure, he'd always hit on the guys, but that was mostly to fuck with Cartman. It wasn't that Kenny was ashamed; he just didn't see how who he wanted to be with was anyone's business but his own.
Since he knew Kyle wasn't likely to reciprocate his feelings anytime soon, if ever—Kyle was straight, and even if he turned out not to be, there was Stan (he could deny it all he wanted, but Kenny was pretty sure if Stan ever wanted any guy, it would be Kyle)—Kenny had tried to move on to someone else, but it never lasted. He'd relationship-hopped the way most people bar-hopped. And then there'd been Tweek. He was the first guy since Kyle that Kenny felt like he could see himself with—God knew why; Kyle and Tweek were nothing alike. But Tweek had had Craig, and Kenny, no matter what he told himself, couldn't truly deny that Tweek belonged with the other boy. He'd seen them together, Craig's arm around Tweek's shoulders, warding off bullies like Cartman. Nobody fucked with Tweek when he was with Craig. But it wasn't all about protection—it was the looks they gave each other when they thought no one was watching them, like they were the only two people in the world who knew some amazing secret. Kenny had seen that look before, between other people, and though he'd never had someone to share that look with, he knew what it meant. You only got that look when you really were head-over-heels in love with someone...
But then Craig had left Tweek, and Kenny had seen a chance... But he'd ignored Kyle, who'd tried to tell him to slow down; he'd ignored every gut instinct he had, that told him Tweek wasn't rightfully his, all because he was Kenny McCormick, proverbial screwup.
That was his reasoning behind his next move. He fucked things up; why not fuck up a friendship too? In one swift motion, he closed his eyes and leaned over to Kyle, pressing his lips against the other boy's even as his mind shouted at him, Yeah, good job, dumbass!
But then he felt Kyle kiss him back.
... ... ...
Stan knocked twice on Tweek's bedroom door. "Tweek?" he called softly. He heard a noise from inside. Taking that as an invitation to go in, he opened the door a crack and poked his head inside. Tweek was sitting on his bed, leaning against his wall. He was holding something close to his body, but Stan couldn't see what it was. Tweek was crying silently. At Stan's entrance, he looked up at him and hiccupped.
"Jesus, are you okay?" Stan came over to Tweek's bed and sat down on the edge. "What happened?"
Tweek took a deep, shuddering breath, and managed to say, through the tears, "I miss – him."
"Craig?" Stan knew it was a stupid question, but he didn't know what else to say.
Tweek nodded, burying his face in the thing he was holding. Stan now recognized it as Craig's black T-shirt.
"Isn't that the shirt he took yesterday?"
His voice muffled by the shirt in question, Tweek said, "It was – here – last night – when I got – home. That's—ngh!—why I called – Kenny."
No wonder Tweek was so messed up. Stan felt so bad for him. All Tweek had done was fall in love with Craig. He was an innocent in all of this. Stan was still pissed at him—Craig—for treating Tweek the way he had, but giving the shirt back meant that there was at least some part of the other boy that still felt human feelings. And, considering the black T-shirt in Tweek's shaking hands, those feelings just might be feelings for Tweek—so Stan understood why Tweek was clinging to the shirt. It was his one link to the person he loved most. And then there was Kenny. He'd said that Tweek had admitted to liking him, but looking at Tweek now, Stan knew the weeping blond's heart belonged only to Craig.
"It's going to be okay, Tweek," he said, feeling lame for sounding so cliché.
"But he's – Craig's – gone," Tweek whimpered into the T-shirt.
"But you have the shirt back," Stan pointed out. "Why would he go to all the trouble of giving it back if you didn't mean anything to him anymore?"
Tweek's sobbing slowed, until he was just sniffling. He raised his head and looked at Stan, and there was hope in his red-rimmed green eyes. "You think –?"
"I don't think you should give up completely," Stan said slowly, thinking. "I can't promise anything, but..." He trailed off, trying to put his thoughts into words. Finally, he said simply, "I think you belong with him."
"Me too," Tweek whispered, without hesitation. Suddenly remembering the night before, and who he'd woken up with, his eyes went big. "But – but Kenny – oh Jesus, I told him I liked him, oh – oh God, he said he liked me too, I don't want to hurt him, not after he's been so nice to me, oh God –!"
Stan glanced out the bedroom door into the hallway, and half-smiled. "I wouldn't worry about Kenny."
... ... ...
Kenny, ironically enough, was the first one to pull away. He stared at Kyle, his mouth slightly open, his eyes a little bit wider than normal. Kyle blushed again, but offered the other boy a small smile.
"Since when do you...?" Kenny was having trouble processing. He'd just made out with Kyle. Kyle Broflovski.
"Since almost four months ago," Kyle said, shyly.
"Why didn't you tell me, when, when I told you..." Kenny trailed off. He still couldn't believe it.
"I didn't think you'd want me." Kyle almost whispered the words.
"Moron," Kenny said, grinning now. "You, Kyle Broflovski, are the reason I quit girls."
"What about Tweek?" He had to ask. Kyle didn't want to be a contributor to emotional pain, for anyone.
"I like him. I do," said Kenny thoughtfully. "But I think...he really is meant to be with Craig."
"Are you okay with that?" Kyle had to ask that question too. He didn't want to be just another home run on Kenny's mental scoreboard.
"Who am I to stand in the way of destiny?" Kenny said with another grin. "Especially when there's an unbelievably hot redhead sitting in front of me right now?"
Kyle, blushing redder than seemed humanly possible, smiled happily and leaned in to kiss Kenny once more.
He'd never doubt Stan ever again.
... ... ...
"So, are you going to tell us anything or just sit there?" Token had his arms crossed. He was standing beside Clyde in front of the couch in the Nommel's living room. Craig was sitting on the piece of furniture, staring at the wall. He'd been silent for almost ten minutes, and Token was getting impatient.
Craig lifted an arm, like he was going to flip Token off, but after a second he just let his arm fall back to his side. Clyde blinked. He'd never in his life seen Craig resist the urge to use his middle finger.
"Dude," he said. "Come on. What's up with you? You obviously still care about him."
He'd said the three words back, and Tweek's eyes had lit up. Craig tried to ignore the sudden feeling in his stomach—like he was eight years old again, swinging too high on the swings, flying through the air, like he could let go of the chains and only faith would keep him aloft. The feeling of letting himself go completely, trusting that the sky would be there to catch him.
Tweek, of course, being Craig's sky.
Things had been different for Craig after that night. Every time he looked at Tweek, he felt that feeling, and the intensity of it scared the shit out of him. Every time he touched the blond, it was like he'd been hit by lightning. He'd never felt that way about anyone before and he didn't have a clue in hell what to do about it. So he started pulling away from Tweek, becoming more distant each day, until finally, he thought it best to just end things. But he couldn't just break up with Tweek for no reason; he needed a way out.
Thomas gave him that way out. Craig had already had kind of a relationship with him, before Tweek, so it seemed like a plausible reason for him to leave the blond. All he had to do was tell Tweek that he'd thought things through, and ultimately decided that he and Thomas were better together, but that he still wanted to stay friends.
But when he'd walked out of school that day, his arm around Thomas's shoulders, and seen the way Tweek was staring at him... His resolve had nearly crumbled completely. It had taken every ounce of his strength to walk up to his soon-to-be-ex-boyfriend and say to him, "I love Thomas." To watch Tweek run away sobbing, to walk away calmly with Thomas while his stomach twisted and his mind screamed at him in protest. But he had to do it. He had to.
"I had to..." Craig mumbled, trying to block out the image of the shattered look on Tweek's face...had it really only been two days ago?
"You had to what?" Clyde blinked in confusion.
"Tweek..." It seemed like Craig had lost his ability to form coherent sentences. Struggling to focus, he said, "I couldn't do it. I couldn't...be with him."
"Oh, my God."
Both Clyde and Craig's eyes went to Token, who was shaking his head, a look of combined disgust and disbelief on his face. "You fucking dumbass, Craig."
Clyde blinked at Token now. "Huh?
"You love him." Token rolled his eyes as Craig stared at him. "You're in love with Tweek and you're such a fucking wimp you couldn't deal with it, right?"
Clyde looked from Token to Craig. The black-haired boy's eyes were on the carpet and from the expression on his face, Clyde knew Token had hit a nerve. He looked back at his friend, standing beside him, and said, "Dude. How did you figure that out?"
Token made a noise somewhere between a snort and a laugh. "It's obvious when you think about it. The whole school knows there's something between him and Tweek, right?"
Clyde nodded; that was true.
"So there's no way you can deny that he—" Token pointed at Craig on the couch. "—cares about him. "
"But he dumped him." Clyde shot a nervous glance at Craig; he was sure that talking about him like he wasn't there would piss him off. But Craig, it seemed, was hardly paying attention.
"Yeah," said Token. "But we were all so focused on the fact that Craig left Tweek, we didn't really think about who he left him for."
"Thomas." Clyde didn't see where this was going.
"Right. And Thomas has Tourette's."
Clyde shook his head and shrugged, a bewildered expression on his face.
"Tourette's," Token said again. "You know, Thomas can't control what he says, so every few minutes he'll yell something totally random?" He could almost see the lightbulb turn on above Clyde's head as the brunet's eyes widened.
"Like Tweek..." Clyde looked at Craig. "Dude," he said quietly.
"He's so fucking head-over-heels for Tweek it freaks him out," Token said. "So he left Tweek because he's a dumbass, but he went right to the next-best thing to replace him. What I don't understand..." he continued, directing his words at Craig now. "...is when you turned into such a pussy."
Craig lifted his head and glared at Token, but kept silent, and it was his silence that provided all the confirmation Clyde and Token needed.
"Dude," Clyde said again, in the same quiet tone as before. "You need to go talk to him."
"I was going to," Craig muttered. "Yesterday. But you were there."
"So what, you were just going to give up?" Clyde couldn't stop himself. "If you really do love Tweek, isn't that worth it?"
It took a few minutes for Craig to respond.
"Craig?"
"Mm?"
"I love you."
"... I love you too, Tweeker."
It hadn't been a lie. Craig loved Tweek, with every bit of his soul. Token had been right, about everything. And Clyde was right too. Craig had to talk to Tweek. No more lying, no more running, no more being afraid. But he was going to try to do it the right way this time; he had to talk to Thomas first.
"Tomorrow," Craig said finally. "I'll talk to him tomorrow, at school."
Token opened his mouth angrily, but Clyde shushed him. He didn't want to push too hard. Getting Craig to admit as much as he had already had been nothing short of miraculous; if Token hadn't figured it out, Clyde was willing to bet Craig would've tried to feed them some lame, half-assed lie. And at least Craig had said he would talk to Tweek.
Clyde couldn't wait to see what happened tomorrow...