Tonight's lullaby: Floating Away in Every Direction by Hammock
Small Lifeforms
Chapter 10; Dive, dive!
Smoke rolls up and around Craig and Tweek's hot dogs, which dangle on the ends of twigs Craig yanked off a nearby tree. The flame licks at their skins until they're browning; the smell makes Tweek's mouth water. Small talk settles over the cracking wood and chirping crickets. It feels like so much more than that, though, as Craig talks about his day. Tweek leans in attentively and rolls his hot dog-stick as Craig talks about work and fixing a motor.
Tweek doesn't understand the words Craig uses; they're all far too technical, but he loves to hear them nonetheless.
Craig slaps his hissing dog onto a bun as he wraps up his retelling, then gazes at Tweek. The fire's orange glow reflects in his cool blue eyes. When he smiles they do too; their corners crinkle with joy.
Tweek wants to hear more. They've talked so much in the last few weeks about Tweek there's hardly been room for Craig to get a word in about his own life. In fact, Tweek knows next to nothing about it.
"How about you, how was your day?" Craig selflessly asks with his grin still on his face, but Tweek doesn't want the spotlight this time.
He wants to hear more about Craig.
"It wasn't bad. We've talked too much about me, though," he says as he rolls his stick in his hands to evenly burn his hotdog. "I want to know more about you."
"Oh," Craig says, befuddled, as if no one said that to him before, "but I'm boring."
"No, you're not," Tweek counters. "You showed up at Clyde's house in a sports car you built yourself. You invited me out to dinner and we wound up in the middle of the fucking woods. You're the most exciting thing that's happened to me in years."
Craig smiles to himself, "You make me sound cool."
"If not crazy," Tweek says, and they share a small laugh.
"I told you most of it," Craig says while staring into the darkness of the woods, "I spend most of my time under the hood of a car so life passes me by sometimes. Oh, I bought a house out here on the pond last year; I don't think I told you that."
Tweek listens attentively and watches Craig's face as he speaks. The fiery glow of their campsite dances across his sharp features. He's beautiful, just as he'd always been.
"Is that why I didn't see your car in the parking lot, you can walk here from your house?"
"We're in my back yard," Craig says as he points into the woods.
A subtle glow seeps through the cracks between the trees down the river. That's all Tweek can see of Craig's house, but he knows what it looks like. They used to ride their bikes up the trail and marvel at the little brick abode and its glorious view of the pond from the riverside. Too bad the last old bastard who lived there uglied it up with lawn ornaments and blatant neglect. Last time Tweek saw it, it looked damn near condemned.
"You bought the house where that old guy lived? The one with gnomes in his yard?" Tweek shivers at the memory.
"Yeah! The bank foreclosed on it a couple years ago and I got it pretty cheap," Craig explains.
Tweek gives Craig a look of conflicting emotions.
"Don't worry, I let dad take the gnomes for target practice. They're nothing but little shards of clay beards behind his house now. You won't even recognize the place when you see it."
While enamored with ideas of what Craig's home looks like, Tweek isn't satisfied with the conclusion of his question. Surely somewhere in the last six years something happened in Craig's life aside from watching the paint on his sports car dry.
It can't have all been rainbows and sunshine.
"So that's it, huh? Six years apart and you don't have any juicy secrets? You've at least dated since I've been gone, right?" Tweek inquires with a quirked brow.
"Well, a couple times," he admits.
"Hmm," Tweek ponders as he pulls his hot dog from the fire to give it a look over. Not black enough. Back in it goes. "Anybody I know?"
Craig rubs the back of his neck with a shrug, though the look on his face is very telling. "Maybe. Doesn't matter, though, none of them were as cute as you."
If Craig's intention is to distract Tweek with flattery, he's doing a fine job of it. He tries to hide just how much he loves the compliments by shaking his head, but his lips betray him with his smile. He wants to blame the atmosphere for his insatiable attraction to Craig, but it'd be badly misplaced. Every dumb line Craig's said since their reunion at the grocery store left Tweek's tongue in knots and a fire in his stomach.
Perhaps it's because Craig's affections for him never stopped burning.
Tweek yanks the stick out of the charred remains of what was once a hot dog and throws it on a paper plate in his lap. He doesn't ask for a bun and Craig doesn't offer one. Some things never change, and Tweek's obsession with gnawing off burnt hot dog skin like a corn cob is one of the grosser preferences he's held onto.
"I'm not gonna learn anything else about you if you keep beating around the bush," Tweek says. "I wanna know about your day-to-day. The ups and downs. It doesn't have to be anything extraordinary."
"Sorry. The last few years feel like crazy blurs that all run together sometimes. Days keep dragging on, but nothing ever changes," Craig confides, "Sometimes I get overwhelmed by my own… sameness."
He still smiles, but the tone in his voice is lower than Tweek's familiar with. For the first time since he's been home he catches a glint of something unfamiliar in Craig's gaze.
Sadness?
Such a lackluster opinion of life if strange coming from someone Tweek finds so extraordinary. When they were younger, Craig didn't have to jump off roofs onto trampolines to have a good time like Tweek and Kenny did. He was always comfortable wherever he was; home in his own skin. It's something about Craig he was always jealous of. Seems now, though, he's given into restlessness.
"Well, how about we walk out to the dock and sit like we used to? We can watch the stars and talk about how boring our lives have been," Tweek proposes.
Craig perks up at that, like Tweek knew he would. When they'd hit a snag in their teenage years they'd sneak out onto the wooden dock and look to the sky for advice. Craig knew every star personally. He told Tweek their names time and time again, though he never remembered, and read their horoscopes like an oracle.
They were usually wrong or so vague they didn't make sense, but it made Tweek feel better. Craig could peek into the future with a little help from his paperback copy of The Biggest Book of Horoscopes Ever, and no one could tell Tweek different.
They put out their fire and migrate towards the wooden bridge from their youth. They walk close together, much like they did on their stroll to the gas station. This time, though, has less to do with the dark and more with their undeniable attraction. With a bump of their arms Tweek's stomach explodes like the sky on Independence Day.
It probably doesn't help that he associates the bridge they're crossing with countless nights of running his hands over Craig's body. Things aren't like when they were young and in love, though; when Craig used to reach out and take a handful of Tweek's ass just because he felt like it.
Though, Tweek wouldn't mind.
They cross the bridge and head towards the water. A shattered reflection of the moon dances across the surface of the pond. Summer frogs chirp to one another, and that lone boat still clings into the dock. Most of all, the milky way glimmers above them, greeting them like an old friend. Star-streaked blues and purples weave into the mystery of the sky. The mountains stand like silhouettes of ancient behemoths against its stunning beauty.
Virginia's night skies were the same. They had pretty stars and steep mountains, too, but he never found a home in them like he did in Colorado. Without Craig around, the universe was a footnote rather than the title.
Tweek jogs ahead of Craig onto the pier. Like the bridge, it's an old wooden thing made up of logs and planks. There were at least five canoes tied here in Stark's heyday. Tonight, there's a single fishing boat. He makes it to the end of the dock, far out into the water, and takes a deep breath of the rich, mossy air.
"You definitely know how to pick a good date spot," Tweek comments when Craig sits down beside him.
"Why, thank you," he replies as he unties his shoes.
"What are you doing?"
"Sticking my feet in," he says as he yanks off his socks. Then, he scoots to the very edge to plunge his feet into the rippling waves. Tweek falls beside him to follow suit. A hiss whistles from between his teeth when he dips them into the dark and chilly liquid. It's refreshing, though. Hopefully no fish nibble his toes.
Avery would love this, Tweek bets. He's never swum in a pool, let alone experienced a pond like this. While that's entirely the fault of Tweek and his unbearable fear of his kid drowning, it doesn't seem fair. Avery should get to have memories like these, too.
Tweek's face droops a bit when he thinks of his son. He's probably still crying in the living room. The urge to call Bebe rattles in his chest like an animal in a cage. It's desperate and frantic. He texted her on his way to the pond, though, and she told him to shut up and enjoy the night. He's fine, she said, just get laid already.
He huffs at the memory and watches the gentle water dance around their ankles. He's lucky he has such great people in his life. He'd be lost without them. Bebe, Clyde; he's even felt grateful for Cartman a time or two.
Then there's Craig.
"I beat myself up for not coming home sooner," Tweek says. It's a sudden confession that takes Craig a beat to process.
"Why didn't you?"
"A lot of reasons, when I think about it. Coming back would mean owning up to the dumb things I did. I was worried Bebe would think I was taking advantage of her if I moved in, I still am sometimes. Then there's my dad. I was always terrified he would get out of prison and find me and Avery or something. I think I had good reasons," Tweek mutters. His toes in the water is a cold, stimulating feeling. Though, also a bit of a scary one; he doesn't know what could be lurking beneath them. "But when I look back on it, it was just because of fear. Like everything else in my life."
"Are you still afraid now?" Craig asks, and Tweek nods.
"My head is like that pier over there," he comments. His finger lifts to guide Craig's eyes to the other side of the pond. It's dim in the moon's light, but he can make out the wooden platform above the glistening waters if he squints.
"It feels like I'm always sick or something, and the antidote is on the other side. I want so bad to get there, but… the water. It looks pretty on the surface, but it's deep and massive and I don't know what's waiting for me underneath. It's all black. Sometimes I think it'd be easy just to close my eyes and jump in, to suck it up and take the plunge. I'll never get there if I just sit on this pier and never move. But the fear of drowning, of what might be in the dark that I can't see- It keeps me from going anywhere.
"I thought moving here was taking the big plunge. Turns out, I'm just dipping my toes in the water."
"Let's do it," Craig says.
"Um, do what?"
"Take the big plunge."
Craig hops up from the edge of the dock and lifts his shirt over his head. Tweek watches, wide eyed and in shock, as his companion strips down. He's wordless for a moment as he marvels at Craig's bare physique. He's a lot leaner than Tweek imagined, and his arms have built some muscle over the years. Tweek remains in silent confusion, enjoying his view, until Craig reaches down to unbutton his jeans.
"Jesus, Craig! What are you doing?! Keep your pants on!" Tweek demands as he jolts up and grabs Craig's bare arms.
"But my clothes will get wet. I'm gonna keep my underwear on."
"Wh- Don't jump in! It was a metaphor! What if someone sees you? What if you drown?"
"I don't know, and I'll never find out if I don't do it," Craig says, and Tweek's throat goes dry.
Craig's blue jeans are thrown atop his discarded shirt and he's left in only his briefs. His clothes are abandoned on the pier, as if such things mean nothing. The wooden structure groans and vibrates as Craig runs to the back of it, preparing for a running jump.
"Don't be stupid!" Tweek screams, but Craig runs. The glistening water ripples in warning. The fishing boat clanks in distress. Craig doesn't care. His bare legs kick beneath him as he sprits to the edge of the pier's safety and dives.
"Craig!" Tweek yells.
The pond quakes and quivers at Craig's impact, and he disappears beneath the inky abyss. Tweek scrambles at the end of the pier like Craig had, though lacking the same courage. When the pier stops, so does Tweek. He frantically scans the dark and endless pool of water. As seconds pass the tight knot in his chest strangles him.
Much to Tweek's relief, Craig breaches the surface, laughing. Tweek sits at the water's edge and watches as Craig paddles towards him.
"Jump in!" Craig yells, gesturing for Tweek to plummet in with him.
"No!" Tweek argues without missing a beat. "You're insane! We're in public and you're skinny dipping! We'll get arrested!"
"That sounds like fear talking!"
"Craig!" Tweek let out as a strangled, gurgling sound. And so, Craig swims up to the pier. He grips splintered edges of the wooden planks Tweek's sitting on. There's a hand on either side of Tweek, and Craig bobs in the water at his knees.
"You don't have to be afraid," Craig assures with a wet, lopsided smile. "I'll be in here with you."
Craig's grin captivates him. That same gushy, love drunk feeling flows through him in waves when Craig lays his chin against the cliff of his knee. It's a wonderful, freeing feeling. A new realization wracks through his core: The only thing stopping him from feeling more is getting in the water. Is fear.
"Well… Okay," Tweek says.
Craig watches as Tweek's clumsy fingers unbutton his red flannel. It slips off his shoulders. He tosses it with Craig's pile. Next comes his tank top. He feels exposed when he peels it away from his flinching stomach and lifts it over his head. Craig's eyes are burning into him, cheeks tinted red.
"If watching me undress is too much for you you're free to turn around," Tweek gathers the courage to tease.
"Would you rather me turn around?" Craig asks, and Tweek's cheeks tint the same shade of vermillion.
"No," he whispers.
His fingers clasp the metal stud at his midriff, and he pulls it free of the denim. The popped button exposes even more of him. Pale, nervous skin quivers with each of his quick breaths. Blond hair trails down and disappears under the band of his boxers. Craig's soft eyes drink it in.
"Help me," Tweek orders. Timidly, Craig's hands grip the legs of his pants to help him slide out of the restrictive denim. Shivers prickle up his ankles and into the most sensitive parts of him. It feels so good to be touched.
He wads up Token's borrowed jeans and tosses them behind him. The air of night is cool against his balmy flesh, and Craig's hands have found a home on his outer thighs. He closes his eyes and tips his head back, reveling in how different this moment is than any that came before it. The endless sky of stars above him paired with the dark unknown below makes him feel so small. For the first time, it's a comforting thought rather than a terrifying one. Water dances around his ankles, wood presses imprints in the backs of his bare legs, and Craig's fingers grip him as if he may slip away.
"You're beautiful."
Tweek blinks stars out of his eyes and looks at Craig, who stares wishfully at his exposed body and flushed face. Tweek had been called a lot of things in his twenty-two years of life. Scrawny or unapproachable on his best days. Once or twice Molly told him he was handsome. Beautiful, though, was something only Craig called him. As if he could see parts of Tweek that no one else could.
And right now, all that matters is what Craig thinks he is.
And Craig still thinks he's beautiful.
"Thank you," Tweek hums. "I think I'm ready."
With one fluid movement Tweek pushes off the wooden planks to stand. Craig's hands spread open and slide down his thighs to his ankles, as if he would die without the contact. It shoots hot electricity through Tweek's core and makes his skin tremor. Begrudgingly, Craig releases his hold to make room for Tweek's rebirth. He floats backwards and away, letting the black water take him.
Tweek doesn't take the same running jump. He presses his toes against the edge of the jetty with a steading breath. And then he jumps. His breath leaves him when he makes fissures in the water's surface. His eyes are clamped closed, but, through his eyelids, he can see the moon's light fade into darkness. Terror engulfs him as he sinks deeper and deeper into the inky depths of Stark's pond. His lungs are empty and the surface feels so far away.
Why did he do this? What if he doesn't make it back up? What if his burning lungs never refill with crisp air?
He kicks his legs, but keeps going down.
What if he never sees Avery again?
His big toe sinks into something. He jerks it away at first, until he realizes it's the muddy pond bottom. His feet sink into it and he pushes himself up. The dark fades as water pulses between his kicking legs, and he gasps in a desperate breath when his head breaks through the pond's surface.
"Oh, Jesus!" Tweek wheezes.
A pair of hands find him under the blueish tinge of the water. They prick and scratch at the curves in his side, which makes his already straining lungs quake with laugher.
"Craig, stop, I'm trying to breathe!" Tweek says. He smashes his joined fists against the surface, which sends an explosion of water raining down on them. Craig lifts his arms to shield his face from the rain Tweek made, laughing all the while.
In retribution, Craig sends handfuls of water pouring down on him. The once still, calm pond quakes like a sea storm as they battle with one another. Laughter explodes with each splash, and excited screams overtake the chirping crickets and sloshing water. Tweek tries to back away for more prime splashing real estate, but Craig ripples the water close behind him.
Tweek turns and raises his fists high above his head, ready to send pond water raining down on Craig. He's much closer than Tweek anticipated, though, and Craig grabs ahold of his wrists to deflect the blow.
Tweek's laughing too hard to struggle. Their legs brush together beneath the surface, but he's too enamored with this feeling to push away. Moonbeams reflect in Craig's wet skin just as it does the pond. His black hair wildly clings to his face, and his lips are tugged into a wide, joyous smile.
"What are you gonna do now, Tweek?" he teases with his fists still gripping Tweek's arms.
Tweek jerks his hands forward and they slide in Craig's grip. His pruned fingers settle on Craig's shoulders, and he pushes closer through the water. Their hot, trembling breath intermingles for a moment, then Tweek's lips brush Craig's.