10.

Token's house was their first - and only - stop, because when they pulled up to the enormous house, Clyde came out on the grandiose awning with Token. Tweek was glad of the fact because he was starting to get uncomfortable seated next to Craig in the confined space after they spoke about Craig's parents. It wasn't that Tweek was particularly upset that the Tuckers didn't care for him very much - that was something that he'd known for quite a while. Rather, Tweek found Craig's insouciance on the matter to be more disconcerting.

"Nice parka," Token chimed as he made his way into the seat behind Tweek.

Craig turned his head to survey what Token, who was inarguably the best dressed in their grade, was wearing. "Thanks."

"You're on time for once!" Clyde greeted happily.

"You could walk, you ingrate," Craig fired off at him.

"Yeah, yeah."

They all could have walked. They probably should have, actually, because Stan's house wasn't far from either of their places. Tweek supposed it saved him the chore of making small talk along the way though, and that in itself was worth the added carbon emissions. He still had Craig's parents on his mind when they parked on the street in front of Stan's unassuming home.

They got out of the car and filed up the driveway, chatting happily amongst themselves while Tweek tried to fight off the familiar curl of unease in his gut. He could do this. He wanted to do this. Not just to prove to Craig that he could be a normal, functioning teenager, but to prove it to himself.

The first thing he noticed when they came in through the front door was Eric Cartman sprawled dramatically across the couch. Tweek didn't think that he would be there - in fact, everyone looked surprised, save for Kyle and Stan, who were stretched out on the carpet, controllers in hand. He didn't see Kenny anywhere in the room.

"Hey, guys."

"What's up?" Clyde asked, sliding easily into place on the carpet.

"Just playing some Overwatch," Stan said.

"Shame," Clyde replied through a chuckle as he kicked off his shoes. "That game is so much better on PC."

"That's what I'm saying!" Kenny's voice came sharply from the kitchen.

"Dude, just shut up about that. It's fine on Xbox," Kyle growled. Tweek had a feeling that this wasn't the first time they'd had the conversation.

"Whatever you sa-a-ay," Kenny called behind a laugh. He poked his head into the living room to survey the group that had gathered there.

Kyle huffed, sending him a glance between mashing buttons. "You don't even own the damn game, Kenny."

Kenny scoffed, clearly scandalized, as he took a step back and clutched his cheeks. "Not legally, no," he admitted after he dropped the act.

"Didn't you learn that piracy kills industry?" Stan shot off sarcastically.

"How do you even pirate Blizzard games?" Clyde chimed.

The rest of the group moved to take their seats on the living room floor to watch the match unfold, a layer of jackets and shoes adorning the rest of the floorspace. Tweek perched on the couch's arm, opting to keep his jacket wrapped around himself, and sent Cartman a wayward glance. Cartman had remained uncharacteristically silent through the exchange, laying on his side, arms gathered under his chin. He was staring glassy-eyed at the television. At least if he was a whining mess, he was a whining mess that was easily distracted by video games.

"I ain't spillin' my secrets," Kenny sing-songed from his spot in the kitchen.

"Anyone want a beer?" Clyde offered, content to drop the subject as he started to sift through his backpack.

The chilly beverages were passed out in kind. Tweek had to have Craig open his bottle with the bottle opener that he kept (always and forever) on his keychain.

"Cartman?" Stan asked, handing a beer out toward him.

"I'm good," he answered sullenly.

"Really dude? You gonna be like this all night?"

Cartman grunted through an irritated fuck off. "You wouldn't understand."

"Right," Stan grumbled sarcastically as he turned his attention back to the match. He took a long, deliberate swig from his own beer.

Tweek glanced at Cartman again, a little uneasy. Their eyes met briefly.

"What are you staring at?" he growled.

"N-Nothing." Tweek turned his attention forward and ran his hand down the length of his beer to collect the condensation on the pads of his fingers.

"Dude, did you catch the new announcements from Blizzcon?" Clyde asked the two boys playing the game in question.

"That Hogger costume was fucking amazing!" Token interjected loudly.

Clyde cast him an odd look. "For Overwatch, Token."

"Yeah, dude. Moira's a major hottie."

"She's trans," Kenny announced as he finally made to join them in the living room. He was delicately carrying a decorative contraption of hoses and glass that Tweek had never seen before. It resembled a vase, but somehow mechanical and alien in nature. It was set down on the coffee table that was pushed off to the side of the room. "I'm calling it right now."

"What?"

"Come on, it's so obvious," Kenny continued dramatically. "She's super tall. Look at those shoulders - God, what I'd give to get my hands around those. And those hands-"

"Dude. You can't just assume someone is trans like that," Kyle said boredly, not tearing his eyes from the screen.

"Who made you the Social Justice Police?" Kenny asked, miming his hands up like he was scared.

"I'm serious, Kenny. You can't just tell something like that by looking at someone. That's transphobic as fuck."

Token started to laugh. "Where did you even learn that word, dude?"

Kyle rolled his eyes, some color rising to his cheeks.

"No, you're right," Kenny answered as he settled into the fold. "I mean, I'd bang her either way. I don't care what kinda parts she's got down there, it's-"

"O-O-Okay," Token cut off, still chuckling. "Before you dig yourself an even deeper hole here, let me remind you that this is a cartoon character that we're talking about."

"So?" Kenny insisted, falling into his own fit of laughter. "While we're on the topic of cartoon characters, I found this really great show you guys should check out."

"We're not watching one of your disgusting hentai flicks," Stan hissed, casting Kenny an all-too-knowing look.

"Oh, come on! The plot is good! I swear!"

Tweek tapped Craig's hip with the toe of a socked foot. "What's hentai?" he whispered.

Craig tipped his head back to look at Tweek upside down, eyes wide and frowning. "Uhh. That might be a conversation for another time."

"When are they gonna make Torb's daughter a hero? I mean, if we're gonna talk about hot Overwatch ladies…"

"Okay! Enough about what video game character that you want to stick your dick inside of!" Kyle howled loudly. "Have some fucking shame."

Tweek smiled to himself and took another swig from his beer. Kenny caught his eye, grinning smugly. "What's that?" he asked, nodding in the direction of the coffee table.

"That's my hookah," Kenny piped up. "I already packed it. You gonna smoke tonight?"

Tweek tilted his head to the side. "I mean, that was kind of the point of coming here, wasn't it?"

"You mean you didn't come here to see little ol' me getting verbally abused by my nearest and dearest?" Kenny asked, voice thick with an accent that Tweek couldn't quite pin down.

"How does it w-work?" Tweek continued.

"Well, if these couch potatoes would get off the damn Xbox sometime this year so we can smoke, I'd show you!"

"Cartman's the couch potato," Stan grumbled, sending Cartman an irritated look over his shoulder.

"I'm grieving here!" Cartman moaned.

"Dude, just shut up already. You brought this on yourself."

"Oh my God, would you two just get a room?" Kenny shot in.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Stan deadpanned.

"Seriously. Just fucking make out already."

Stan rolled his eyes and went to set his controller down, but he thought better of giving in so easily and instead turned to give Kenny a good, hard shove.

"Mm, yes. Take your blue balls out on me," Kenny continued to jab, now supplanted on his ass, hands propping himself up behind his back. "Harder next time, daddy."

"I have a girlfriend," Stan ground out. "Girl. Girlfriend. Why's everything gotta be so fucking gay with you?"

Kenny shrugged. "I call 'em like I see's 'em," he settled behind a grin that ate up most of his face, clambering toward the coffee table before Stan could get another shove in edgewise.

Cartman groaned and sat up, looking pissed, but he didn't look like he wanted to get into it with Kenny. Kenny started to push the table back to its original position. He had to kick the jackets and shoes out of the way. Tweek caught Token gingerly snap his up to avoid the abuse and Tweek was glad he'd kept his jacket on, because Kyle was opening all the windows in the living room.

"So, Tweek. You don't want the keef to burn. You want it to be just close enough to the heat source that-"

"Uhh, what's keef?" Tweek asked, looking around the room. He wasn't so sure when he'd fallen in with a crowd that was so familiar and comfortable around drugs. It was starting to freak him out a little.

"Okay," Kenny said. "So you know when you have like, big marijuana plants? And how it's kind of sticky on the flower parts?"

"No?"

"The flower is the part that you smoke," Kenny clarified, brandishing the coal he was about to light in a pair of tiny (kinda cute, actually) tongs.

"Okay," Tweek answered, trying to follow along.

"Keef is like pollen," Craig cut in, attempting to speed the process up. "It gets you fucking blasted."

"It's not pollen," Kenny cut in, frowning.

"I don't know i-if I want to get blasted," Tweek said uncomfortably, shifting to bring his arm around himself.

"Keef is-"

"Yeah, yeah, just light the damn thing already!" Clyde moaned, waving his hands around from his spot on the carpet.

"Hey! I'm trying to teach!"

The room collectively rolled their eyes because, well, it was Kenny, and the hookah was technically his. And so was the keef. All that besides, Kenny seemed genuinely proud of his set up, and silently, everyone came to the agreement to at least pretend to be interested in Kenny's rambling. Tweek reasoned that Kenny had done it on his account the week before, hunched over tiny plastic models while they tiptoed around talking about Craig, so he owed him that much at least.

As it turned out, Kenny's excited babbling had deflated somewhat, so he ended up setting the coal into place and sucking on the end of a long hose. He was making an odd face.

"You can come over for some hands-on lessons sometime, Tweek," Kenny added thoughtfully through a weak exhale. He went right back to sucking on the weird plastic tube.

"Excuse me?" Craig barked, but it wasn't quite accusatory. More to save face, Tweek thought.

Kenny waved his hand in dismissal. "I was joking," he forced out, eyes watering as he coughed. The smoke was coming more heavily now. "I don't want your boyfriend."

"Rude," Tweek said.

Token, Craig, and Clyde started to crack up and Kenny passed off the hookah hose to Stan on his immediate right after explaining that the hookah was now "rolling." Tweek took that to mean that it was ready, though he wasn't quite sure why it hadn't been ready from the start. The familiar, sickly-sweet scent began to fill the room. Kenny had stuck the other hose into his mouth and continued to suck down the smoke happily as he came to cross his legs on the carpet.

"All right, that's enough you addict," Cartman rang out. He made a grab for the hose that Kenny had been hogging - it was handed off without complaint, if just a tad bit lazily.

Everyone started to gather around the table after that. Craig settled onto the couch next to Tweek, though made a point of sitting as far away from Cartman as the position would allow. Nobody seemed too keen on sitting between the two of them in the ass-crack of the loveseat, so they contented themselves with parking their asses on well-worn throw pillows and wrapping up in sweatshirts. Tweek didn't move from his perch and worked his way through his beer until Craig passed him one of the nozzles.

"You gotta put your thumb over the hole," Craig explained quickly, demonstrating the motion.

Tweek started to laugh.

"No, not like that," Craig drawled, amused at the insinuation. "When someone else is smoking. They can't pull if you don't."

"Sure."

Tweek tried a small puff off the contraption. It was smoother than hitting one of the dirty pipes that Craig and Kenny had floating around the dregs of their backpacks, and he decided that he liked the bubbling noise that the hookah made when someone was smoking. It reminded him of blowing bubbles in his chocolate milk as a kid. The smoke tasted vaguely cold on his tongue.

Craig patted him on the back and Tweek handed off the hose as a second round of drinks got passed around. Tweek resolved himself to the fact that this was most definitely going to be his last one for the night, lest he create a repeat of what had happened - now three weeks ago - at Cartman's house.

Eric Cartman was pretty silent through their banter. Tweek wasn't exactly sure why Eric was there in the first place. Stan and Kyle didn't seem so interested on supporting him through his relationship troubles, though Tweek knew he didn't have the whole story. Cartman always had the effect of becoming the center of every conversation, the butt of every joke, drawing all eyes to his outrageous antics… it was bizarre seeing him so defeated and quiet, simply along for the ride. It almost made Tweek feel better about his own wallflower nature.

Perhaps Stan and Kyle really were his best friends. Tweek thought that was a little sad to entertain too deeply, as he'd always figured Cartman had taken to his new football buddies with ease and gusto, but maybe the two of them were good for the self-absorbed narcissist taking up too much space on the couch. Tweek had the feeling that Cartman usually fell back on the other two as somewhat of a crutch, however, and his sympathy switched to Stan and Kyle.

Well, someone had to do it.

"You said your parents went to Hawaii?" Token asked when a lull in conversation hit.

"Yeah," Stan answered. He was leaning on his side, eyes heavy and looking relaxed.

"Why didn't you go?"

Stan shrugged slowly. Or maybe Tweek was just perceiving it in slow motion. He couldn't tell. "It's a business trip. They're only there for like, two days. Something about volcanoes and minerals, fuck if I know."

"Enough time to catch a tan," Clyde hummed.

"I don't tan," Stan said, rolling his eyes.

"You totally shoulda gone."

"Naw."

"Think about all the honeys in bikinis," Kenny cooed as a faraway look took over his face.

"Coulda taken that elusive girlfriend of yours," Craig teased.

Stan flipped him the bird. Craig returned the gesture in kind.

After his second and less conservative puff of smoke, Tweek started to feel fuzzy around the edges. His head felt like it was spinning, though not with quite the same worrying intensity of last time, more like he might slide off his perch on the couch arm if he moved too quickly. He declined another pass on the hookah. Craig shrugged and took his turn for him while Tweek toyed with the peeling label on his beer bottle. He still didn't like the taste.

They ended up ordering takeout after the hookah made another round across the table and Tweek instinctively cleared the history on his phone, lest Craig go looking for more ammunition to assault his virgin, nubile mind with. Kyle was the one that called in the order though.

"Only two more weeks until break!" Clyde rang out happily, shifting in his spot with glee.

"You get those hotel rooms booked, Craig?" Token asked.

"Yep."

"How much do we owe ya?"

Craig turned his head toward the ceiling, thoughtful for a moment. "I think it worked out to be something like, forty per person for the weekend."

"Oh, splurging on the five star accommodations," Kenny teased.

A snort. "Right."

Tweek pulled out a wad of small bills and handed them off to Kyle when he got up to get the takeout from the door. "Thanks."

"It's a non-smoking hotel," Craig continued pointedly. "If I gotta drag my ass down a flight of stairs to smoke a few cigarettes, then so be it. But God help any of you if you cost me a two-hundred dollar smoking fee."

"Yes, yes. We know," Kyle drawled. "Big scary Craig, knows how to use his fists. Got it."

"You weren't really the one I was worried about," Craig said, turning his attention away from Kyle and instead staring down Kenny.

"What?" Kenny gasped dramatically. "How could you, Craig? I thought we had something special."

"Hardly."

Tweek bit down on a laugh and started in on his mushu pork. Kenny took his own container of fried rice and used the opportunity to get closer to the table to weasel his way across Cartman's knees so he was sitting on the floor, directly between Cartman and Craig as they ate. Cartman didn't seem to mind as his attention was on the food in front of him.

"Good?" Craig asked, glancing up at Tweek.

Tweek gave him a thumbs-up through a mouthful of food. Craig seemed content at that, assured that Tweek was eating his fill.

The coal atop the hookah had reduced itself to a gray ash. Tweek thought it looked soft to the touch, but he didn't give in to the compulsion to stick his finger in the middle of it, because it probably would have singed the pad of his finger right off.

"So… you two are talking again," Kenny noted aloud. Tweek thought he sounded amused, if a little chiding, in his remark.

"Yep." Craig didn't seem to want to go into it any more than that, which left Tweek to offer Kenny a small, apologetic smile.

"Well, that's good. I was getting worried there for a second."

Craig sent Kenny a warning look through a mouthful of Chinese food, as if Kenny were approaching territory that wasn't to be tread. Or at least, tread on with proverbial boots as clumsy as Kenny's.

Kenny bounced his crossed knees in jovial complacency as he popped a wanton into his mouth. "C'mon gramps. I'm on your side here."

"Well, I guess I should be thanking you then," Craig mumbled out half-heartedly.

"Yeah, I guess you should."

Tweek sucked in a sharp breath. "Dude, Kenny," he cut in through a quick shake of his head. Leave it to Kenny to worm his way into uncomfortable conversations.

"Not you too!" Kenny started to wail. "Really. I'm hurt."

"No, you're not," Tweek hissed under his breath.

Another casual shrug. "You got me!"

Tweek cleared his throat and cast an uneasy look at Craig, who was stiff, but at least visibly resigned to taking the conversation civilly. "I did appreciate the advice, though."

Clyde, Token, Stan, and Kyle were back to pouring over their game with enthusiasm, chuckling between each other and drunkenly yelping at the screen. Cartman, now sitting erect on the couch, was silent and back to staring at the screen with those deadened eyes.

"Glad someone does," Kenny pouted.

"What about you, anyway?" Tweek demanded suddenly. "I n-never hear any drama going on in your love life."

"Drama?" Craig asked with no attempt to keep their conversation quiet. "Is that what you call it?"

"Um." Tweek clammed up and stared at the carpet for a half-second too long. "I didn't mean it that way."

"Mm."

Kenny was looking on their exchange carefully, holding his tongue, and Tweek was glad when he eventually drawled out a, "me? Drama free zone over here." An insistent and honest wave of the arms followed. "No strings attached. Nothing to complain or bitch about. Plenty of freedom to dive into whatever bodily orifices of my choice."

"Gross," Tweek snorted, but he was back to stifling a chuckle, content and high and trying to spear a piece of pork with his chopsticks.

"So says you," Kenny said smugly.

"But you don't have like, a special someone? Through all of that… orifice d-diving?"

Kenny looked thoughtful for a moment as he worked a piece of chicken, the muscles of his jaw rolling with the exaggerated effort. "A few," he settled on cryptically. "But that's not really important."

"A boy or a girl?" Tweek pressed, genuinely interested.

"Oh, Tweek," Kenny cooed dramatically. "I didn't know you were so interested in who I'm tryna fuck. What, you trying to get at me?" That earned him a swift - yet not intentionally painful - kick from Craig.

"No. Really, just honest curiosity." Tweek glanced over to Craig, wishing he could telepath stop trying to murderkill Kenny with your eyes I'm trying to make friends here that's what you wanted right? Right?

"A little of both," Kenny admitted. "And everything in between, of course."

"What does that mean?"

Kenny winked at him with another one of his conspicuous grins hanging on his lips. "Gender is a social construct, my friend."

"So says the guy fetishizing trans Moira," Craig said, his tone a barely measurable amount less steely than it had been.

Thank you.

"Oh, come on. You know I'm right about that!"

"Still transphobic," Kyle called from his place in front of the television, not skipping a beat.

Kenny rolled his eyes. "What about you, Tweek?" he asked, this time more quietly as he leaned in closer. His chin was inches away from Craig's knee which, as far as Kenny was concerned, was the worst place for it to be. "Come to terms with that latent homosexuality yet, or are you still telling yourself otherwise?"

It was Tweek's turn to roll his eyes. "I never d-denied it."

"What about you, Craig?"

"Hm?"

"You gay or naw?"

"No," Craig rumbled curtly, and Tweek didn't miss the flash of interest on Kenny's face.

"I think your recent fashion t-taste begs to differ," Tweek teased, off-kilter, though it was more to cover up the fact that he was trying not to look visibly taken aback by Craig's words.

A disinterested shrug from Craig rubbed against the outside of Tweek's thigh. "I like what I like."

Tweek started to fidget.

"See, that's how it's supposed to be," Kenny interjected, content. "Shouldn't have to think about it so much."

Except that Tweek was thinking about it. A lot. He snuck a glance at Craig through his disheveled hair - he'd relaxed, at least, and had decided that ignoring the two of them to stare at the gaming match was a better use of his time. Tweek chomped on his lower lip and turned Craig's words over in his head. Well… he supposed he'd never really asked Craig. Whether he was gay or not. It made his heart pump a few beats quicker to think about as his brain kicked into overdrive, trying to navigate the buzzing haze of THC and alcohol.

"Will you guys cut that gay shit out?" Cartman grumbled.

"Oh, Eric. Feeling left out?" Kenny asked, scooting to lean against Cartman's leg this time and fluttering his eyelashes.

"Dude, get off me," Cartman grumped.

"We can talk about you and Heidi if you want," Kenny insisted, and Tweek wondered if this had been Kenny's plan all along. "This is an all-inclusive space here."

Cartman did little more than grunt at that.

"Pretty bold move you pulled there on Thursday," he continued to prod.

"Don't want to talk about it."

"You're a bit young to be getting hitched though," Kenny plowed on.

Cartman glared down at Kenny and Tweek wondered how his face wasn't full of holes with all the death glares he'd been getting tonight. "I said I don't want to talk about it."

"Yes, you do."

Stan snuck a glance over his shoulder, but it went unnoticed to everyone except for Tweek, who couldn't give the gesture much thought through the new flurry of information behind his spinning eyes.

"Really, Cartman. What's been going on?"

Cartman was quiet for a few moments and looking like he was weighing his options, but Tweek didn't think the guy had ever passed up an opportunity to talk about himself. He relented behind a tired sigh. "I love her."

"I figured as much," Kenny answered in turn.

"I just… I don't know, Ken. I'm always fucking things up."

Kenny whistled between his teeth at the unexpected admission. "Don't be so hard on yourself. What's a few rumors about your girlfriend sleeping around with a popular band compared to a lifetime of marriage?"

Cartman moved to shove Kenny, and he might have actually done some real harm had the maneuver connected, but Kenny had snuck his way between Craig's knees.

"Shut up," Cartman hissed.

"Dude." Craig looked down at Kenny, who sheepishly untangled himself from his brief (and smart - Tweek didn't think even Cartman possessed the misguided folly to go after Craig) haven between Craig's knees.

"I'm not the one who started the rumor," Kenny said pointedly to Cartman.

Cartman maintained his silence by rolling his fingers in his hands, cracking the knuckles.

"Were you jealous?"

More silence until an eventual and quiet, "yes."

Cartman opened up after that. Tweek could hardly keep track of the conversation, though he felt that he should, because there was a small part of him that was honestly interested in whether Eric Cartman was finally outgrowing his inability to find fault in himself. Instead, Tweek kept going over the idea that Craig might someday outgrow him. A silly childhood ruse that had blown itself out of proportion and was, quite possibly, only maintained because it was somehow easier or more comfortable or just familiar…

Craig sent him a look of confusion. Tweek just forced a smile and put more salty noodles into his mouth.

"What do you think, Craig?"

"What?"

"Oh, come on! We're doing some real character development here!" Kenny griped.

"I don't know what the question was," Craig insisted boredly.

"What do girls like," Kenny repeated, and the look Craig gave him at the question screamed why the hell are you asking me, but Kenny was quick to rephrase. "In terms of a stable relationship. I'm out of ideas on that one. Long-term isn't really my thing."

Tweek made a face.

"Jeez, Tweek. Lighten up a little. You basically count as a girl," Kenny said dismissively.

"What?" he squeaked, his grip tightening considerably on the empty beer bottle in an attempt at keeping his fingers from twitching too much. Craig looked at him for a long moment.

"Support her," Craig relented, tearing his eyes away from Tweek and toward the other two. "Girls like to feel like they're in charge. Let them be."

"Already got that one," Kenny said as he ticked off a digit on his finger.

"Don't be clingy," Craig added, this time directed specifically at Cartman through a sharp scowl. "Girls hate that shit. Just roll with it. Let her have some space."

Cartman snorted. "Fat lot of good that's done me so far."

"And then there's the self-pity thing," Kenny added solemnly, ducking to avoid another aggressive shove à la Cartman.

Craig rolled his shoulders. Somehow, this conversation seemed to affect him more than Kenny's insistent prying about his own relationship, and Tweek wasn't sure what to make of that. "I don't fuckin' know, Cartman. Apologize to her."

"Did that one already!" Cartman growled.

Kenny nodded sincerely and peered over at Craig. "He showed me the texts."

Craig ran a hand over his face, still refusing to look at the two of them. "No, I mean in person."

Cartman nodded glumly in resignation.

"Girls don't like it when you chase them-" Kenny seconded that "-so just talk to her. Like she's a human being. It's not that fucking hard."

Cartman got to his feet and stretched, still swathed in his Letterman jacket, which was starting to look a little big on him. "I'm gonna step out for some air real quick," he announced. "Got some thinkin' to do."

"Don't hurt yourself," Craig shot off automatically.

Kenny picked up Craig's hand so he could tap a high five against his limp palm. Craig snatched his hand back when Kenny was finished.

"Oh, fuck you guys. Don't know why I even bothered in the first place."

Tweek set his takeout box on the end table and arranged his chopsticks so they weren't sticking haphazardly out of the half-finished food. He settled them across the top, then decided that they would probably be exposed to more airborne bacteria that way, and stuck them back into the noodles. He repositioned them a third time before accidentally knocking one of the wooden sticks onto the floor. Tweek stared at it, frowning and feeling betrayed, but the gust of cold air as Cartman let himself out convinced him to just leave it be.

"I think we made some real progress there," Kenny chimed happily. He scooted to take Cartman's spot on the couch. Craig found a more comfortable position, now that Kenny's slighter frame allowed him to not be forced into the corner of the loveseat in an attempt to stay out of Cartman's personal space. Tweek felt even colder in the chilly room without Craig's body heat at his side.

"If you say so."

"You'll see. I am the best relationship therapist." Kenny stuck his thumbs out and shoved them into his chest, puckering the fatigued fabric of his sweatshirt. "It is me."

"Great career choice," Craig said, rolling his eyes.

Kenny just laughed. Clyde handed the controller behind him with a frustrated huff and Craig took it, looking like he was happy to get away from the awkward bravado that had just taken place. Kenny eventually got to his feet and collected his hookah to shuttle back to the kitchen.

Tweek watched Craig play for a few minutes before he stood up as well. "I'm gonna, uh, go talk to him," he mumbled quietly, tilting his head in the direction of the door.

"'Kay."

Tweek slipped into his shoes and swallowed, half content to have his own chance to duck outside for some fresh air. He hoped it wasn't just him, that everyone felt the suffocating weight in the living room, but Tweek sincerely doubted it.

Cartman was standing outside on the narrow porch, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his athletic pants, just staring wantonly down the street. He didn't look over to acknowledge Tweek as he stepped out to join him.

"Hey," Tweek offered in a weak greeting.

"Hey yourself."

"Um." He rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed. "Okay."

Cartman let out another weighty sigh. "Sorry."

Tweek didn't think he'd ever heard that word from Cartman's mouth before. It was almost surreal, but Tweek was quick to shove that out of his head.

"So…"

"You think I should go talk to her?" Cartman asked, projecting his inner monologue on Tweek.

"I don't think it c-could hurt," Tweek offered gently. "I mean, that was pretty sweet what you did. You know, at the school. For Heidi."

Cartman sucked on his teeth. The effort sent a small cloud of condensation sailing out in front of him. "Yeah, it was."

It didn't feel so cold outside wrapped up in alcohol and "keef," whatever that really was. Tweek still fitted his fingers into the pockets of his jeans to match Cartman's easy stance. "I'm sure she loves you too," he continued softly. It was his turn to project.

"I know. I just don't know if she should."

A breathy hitch. "Yeah."

"Yeah."

They held their silence, both their brains turning over could have's and should have's, for a few minutes. It felt like hours to Tweek, but they passed comfortably, even if the person he was sharing the contemplative moment with couldn't possibly understand.

"I'm gonna go get my girlfriend back," Cartman finally broke, his mind made up. Tweek watched him skirt around his side and head down the steps toward the sidewalk.

"Good luck."

And with that, he was left alone on the stoop. Tweek wondered how long he could stand being out there in the cold. How long it would take for Craig to wonder what was up and come out to join him. Ten minutes more? Maybe a half hour? He didn't think he'd be so lucky and, right now, all he really wanted to do was be alone with his thoughts.

Tweek eyed the playground across the street.