Jesus Christ! Wendy ran out and vomited, before anyone could even help or catch her she drove off with Bebe.
"Fuck!" Crumbling on to the floor, Stan pathetically cries to himself, I think that I probably shouldn't be seeing this play out.
Opening up the counter, Craig helps Stan Marsh off of the floor as the whole store watches and whispers.
"I'll be fine," He shrugs off Craig with a huff, he didn't even purchase anything. Leaving a bit bruised, Bradley chuckles next to me.
"Things keep getting crazier and crazier." Wiping down one of the machines, Bradley had quickly picked up the routine of Harbucks. I'm proud of him.
There's been an itch among the three of us that needed to process what just happened in here. The buzz of rubbernecking made making the orders much more difficult.
Once everything dies down, I begin to wipe my apron with my hands before being interrupted again. "Hey Tweek, could you help me with some storage? I don't know where anything goes back there."
Since I'm the only one who knows where anything is, I have to show Craig and Bradley every small intricacy that I know.
As we seclude ourselves in the back, Barbrady's in his office, so it's just Craig and I.
"So what do you need from back here?" I glance around at the boxes of napkins and assorted coffee beans guessing.
He forcefully grabs my waist and wraps his lips around my neck. "Jesus! Dude, we're at work, what the hell are you doing?" This forwardness that Craig exudes when he finally gets me alone is alarming to me, he might actually be attracted to me. Gross.
"Come on, who's going to come back here?" Whispering into my ear, Barbrady wouldn't be too terrible, just really awkward, Bradley on the other hand could let it out.
"I don't know, let's just go back to work, dude, we only have like two hours left." Slightly pushing against his torso, he doesn't really move back from the force.
"Fine." He pouts, "Later," he promises.
"Sure." He ruffles my hair, effectively ruining it and letting it stick up in odd places.
We go back to the battlefield and Bradley is pensively pressing a button, "I'm doing this right, right?"
"What are you making?" I glance over at the older gentleman patiently waiting.
"Just a latte." Worriedly, looking, he had done all the right steps.
"No, you're good Bradley." Another customer just walked in, dressed down in black, it's Henrietta, thank fuck she's okay.
"Hey Tweek," she greets me with that surly voice of hers.
Craig makes himself useful by going out and wiping down some of the tabletops.
"Black coffee?" Asking her usual, she nods.
"Not having any coffee was probably the worst part of being in the hospital again, apparently if it's too hot, I'll try and burn myself with it. Isn't that some shit?" She coughs into her dark long sleeved shirt, dress? Henrietta's fashion always confused me. I bet she buys her clothes online.
"Yeah, I guess, they were just doing their job." I accept her few dollars and her generous tip.
"I'll make it," I tell Bradley, I don't trust him with my best customer, if Henrietta stops getting her coffee here, nobody will give me anything more than the coins they don't want.
"Oh, uh okay." Bradley sits down on the one stool we have in the back and takes out his phone. He's probably texting Kevin, or something I presume.
Clearing her throat, Henrietta asks, "Tweek, who would do I need to talk to if I wanted to start a slam poetry night here?"
"Probably Barbrady? He's in the back. I'll get him." Revealing that he was eavesdropping, Bradley jumps up to grab our boss.
"Yeah, Pete's coming back to town soon, something about his mother being sick. My therapist also really wants me to."
"Dr. Quinn?" I can't help myself and blurt out my therapist's name.
"No, the guy. Dr. Lyons, but I've seen their name on the building." I nod to myself as I complete her drink.
Mr. Barbrady takes his sweet time coming out to the front, "I love that! What time were you thinking of having your little show, young lady?"
Henrietta winces a bit, I chuckle.
"Friday nights? We can start at seven? It shouldn't take that long." Henrietta attempts to smile.
Returning with a dirty rag in his hand, Craig stares at me specifically making me sweat, dude can you not?
"That sounds wonderful, I'll get one of these kids to type up a flyer for you, when do you want the first one to be?" Cheerfully smiling at Henrietta, Barbrady starts wiping the sweat from his forehead.
"Next friday would be fine, I already have a few readers coming with me." Henrietta explains, I'm happy that she's trying something.
"That's great," Waddling back to his office, Henrietta just shrugs her shoulder and takes her coffee to go.
Waiting for the shop to quiet down, Craig nudges me, "Sounds gay."
"Yeah, you are too." Bradley snickers with me.
"Tweek, check your phone, Kevin wants to make sure that tomorrow is good for filming." Thanks for reminding about impending school work, Brad.
Digging for my phone as I let Craig deal with one of our regular customers, I notice the blinking light and two new messages brightly displayed on the screen.
(From Kevin) Sunday at 3, okay? I want to film before the sun goes down.
(From Thomas) I hate Kevin so much, I think he's flirting with me with suggestive winky faces, what do I do?
Sighing, I make sure I'm texting the right people.
(To Kevin) Sounds good.
(To Thomas) Send them back? Idk man, Craig made out with me at work.
I regret immediately telling someone about what Craig and I do, but I needed to get it off my chest.
Before I put my phone back in my pocket, it vibrates again.
(From Thomas) You're so fucking lucky dude.
I scoff, getting sexually harassed at work by your cute friend is definitely not good luck.
(To Thomas) Whatever you say, dude.
It amuses me to no end that we call each other 'dudes', we're not in California.
As the day ends, Bradley, Craig, and I are closing up when Craig corners me at one of the booths.
"My mom told me to invite you over to dinner tonight, if you don't want to come, that's fine." Craig already deflects, I think he doesn't want me to come over, it'd be awfully awkward to sit with his family and eat their food.
Politeness has been always my downfall, "Yeah, of course, I'll go." I decide to let my mother know where I am, she gets worried and all when I disappear.
(To Mom) Craig invited me to dinner, I'll see you later?
My mother doesn't respond quickly and I presume she's busy or deeply offended that I'm not coming home. She can deal with it, I decide.
I walk my bike next to Craig aimlessly strolling back to his house.
"Don't fuck up and spill that we're gay." So audacious, fuck you too Craig.
"Do you think I'm stupid?"
Sighing, "No, just don't make a scene or suck my dick at the dinner table. You sure, you're ready to sit with my family for a couple of hours? You can bail if you really want to."
"It'll be fine Craig, what's to worry about?"
Politely trying to eat the tough steak in my mouth has become too much to handle. Jesus, Craig was right, this was a bad idea.
Ruby's sitting across from Craig and I, she's looking at us oddly, I think she's trying to investigate or something.
His mother sits at the one end of the table, while his father sits at the head of the table,
The giant speaks, "So Tweek, I don't see you at church often…" Mr. Tucker trails off, while his younger sister overdramatically rolls her eyes.
"Oh, my mom really doesn't like church that much." I place blame on my mother, even though I'm not lying, she always complains that the pews are too stiff and hurt her back.
"If you ever wanted to go dear, you could always come with us, you just have to get up really early." Craig's mother cracks a smile at me, she's trying to convert me into their cult, don't freak out Tweek.
"Yeah, why don't you come with us tomorrow," Craig knocks his one knee into mine.
"Okay, sounds...interesting," I try shoveling some mashed potatoes in my mouth, they taste processed and buttery.
"So, Craig tells me that he's doing better, I just wanted to thank you Tweek," so this is why I'm being fed, it's a reward.
"You're welcome," I guess I'll take the credit of Craig getting his shit together.
Dinner is mostly quiet, everyone is too busy trying to eat to make any small talk, this forced family dinner is exactly that, forced. I'm very glad that my father works himself to death so that it's mostly me fending for myself or just my mother and I eating.
Craig takes my plate away from me, I guess he thinks I can't wash my own dish. I slowly start to realize that I'm trapped in the Tucker household and I can't do anything about it. They'll probably murder me.
Rolling out his sleeping bag for me, Craig coerced me into staying over and somehow going to church before work, as well as film our video for health class. He better suck my dick for asking this much.
"My mom is probably confused that I'm having a sleepover." I shrug my shoulders as I sat on Craig's bed.
"Think we're too old for this?" He flattens out the makeshift blankets on the floor, I have a feeling I won't be sleeping on the floor though.
I pause, "Nah. We're studying, right?" We smile at each other as he climbs up next to me, his long limbs perturb me as they wrap around me.
"You have to be quiet." Whispering as he nips at my neck, my blood drains from my face as his hands snake under my shirt, nails scraping my torso.
Craig hinted that he wanted to start doing more when we would be alone. Smothering me with his saliva in my mouth while he crushes my boner with his weight.
We lost our shirts in a fit of lust, our lackluster bodies smack and sweat, I wholeheartedly think that Craig Tucker is trying to fuck me after his parents invited me to go to church with him.
Between muffles and moans "Craig, fuck me," slips out.
"What?" He stops kissing, however doesn't pull away his smoker's breath on my left cheek.
I realize my misstep, "Oh uh," He runs his hand over my crotch.
"I don't have any lube." He frowns, "Shit, dude."
"What?" Don't worry, Tweek, he's already stuck his tongue down your throat for him too many times to run away and out you. He's red handed as well.
"Do you want me to jerk you off?" Craig Tucker asks in the most dry and unsexy way possible and I still nod profusely.
He unzips my pants and barely pulls them down before grabbing at me.
I wriggle under him and I stare as he concentrates on making me burst. His hands were rough against my tender skin. After fifteen minutes and our faces redden with excitement and shame.
I reach and touch myself to finish, while Craig finally whips out his dick. Inspecting the size, Craig multitasks with his penis in hand and his mouth, making quick work assaulting my lips.
My eyes shudder and I orgasm, Craig makes a sound of satisfaction and cums on my chest as well. I feel slightly rude.
"I'll grab some tissues, stay still." He instructs and I stay put.
Cleaning the mess of me, "You okay Tweek? You look out of it."
Yeah, you just masturbated over me. "I'm good, a little shocked."
"About?" He inquires while he throws away the evidence in his small overflowing trash can.
"Just what we did, you know?" Craig only shrugs, what a strange boy.
I had to borrow a dress shirt from Craig to go to church, it was way too fucking early. I share a similar scowl with the Tucker children.
We arrive a bit early and I notice mostly the South Park families. The Stotch's, the Donovan's, the Marsh's. All dressed up, all looking sad.
The stain glass windows mix with sunlight cascading the depictions of Jesus into a mystical rainbow.
Church organs blare as Father Maxi walks down the aisle, the congregation all stand, I try and pay attention to what Mrs. Tucker is doing and try to follow. I feel very out of place.
Once Father Maxi reaches the pulpit, he echoes, "You may sit." Awkward murmurs fill the silence before he begins. The choir leads everyone in a hymn that I don't recognize so I lip synch my way through it.
I sit when they sit, kneel when they kneel, stand when they stand.
Father Maxi begins his speech, "Good morning everyone, I'm glad to see some new faces in our congregation. While flipping through the bible last night, thinking about what to say. I realized after some prayers," He pauses dramatically, I'm practically on the edge of my seat. I look to Craig and he has his eyes shut.
"As a church we always need to find a way to gather more people into God's heart. I was reading the Second Epistle to Timothy, chapter three, verse sixteen and seventeen. "All Scripture is breathed out by God and profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness, that the man of God may be competent, equipped for every good work."
Some of the other churchgoers nod in agreement to this.
"So as a congregation, I see it fit to try and reach out to nonbelievers, save their eternal soul from damnation, this is very serious, Amen."
I glance at Mama and Papa Tucker and now feel betrayed? I don't know, they only brought me here to be converted, which I guess was the whole point in the first place. Why else do other people bring outsiders to the mass of all places?
A collection plate of money is passed around, I ignore the small amount of cash and politely pass it down the pew. Next is everyone lines up to receive a Jesus wafer, I pass and stay in my seat, a few elders shoot glares at me, but I'm pretty sure if you weren't a believer you supposed to not eat Jesus, whatever.
I check my phone, two messages.
(From Kevin) How'd you like chess club? I just remembered to ask you lol.
(From Thomas) I got Kevin to open up to me a little bit? We should hang out soon, I have shit to tell you.
I sigh and pocket my phone, this should be over soon.
The four of us all agreed to meet up on one of the dead end streets in South Park. Craig and I were still in our church clothes, I forgot to text back both Kevin and Thomas. I was just annoyed.
Handing me a small packet of papers, Bradley briskly stated, "Here's your script." I flip through the papers, trying to remember my lines.
"Okay, I'm gonna film this, Kevin, you can pretend to hit Craig with my car right?" Thomas is in a shotty doctor's costume, I just hope we don't fail this dumb assignment.
As Bradley is fiddling with the camera, Kevin acknowledges me as Craig begins to lay on the dirty street.
"Looking spiffy, Did you get my text?" I realize that I'm still borrowing Craig's clothes, I feel myself blush.
"Oh yeah, it was okay, I just did it for Wendy's campaign." Shrugging, I admit the truth.
"Oh cool." He seems disappointed and glances at Thomas standing off to the side religiously reading his parts.
Filming doesn't take too long, we only have to refilm a few of Thomas' lines due to him accidently screaming 'shit!' Apparently I played the part of shell-shocked loved one well.
"Okay, that's a wrap." Bradley goofily claps as the sun begins to set.
Sticking out his hands, I help Craig rise to his feet and begin brushing some of the gravel off of his suit.
"We better get an A for this shit." We all laugh as Thomas agrees to edit the film together later in the week.
I wonder if Bradley would ever become a taxi driver as he drops me off at my home.
(From Craig) Just give me back the suit tomorrow at school, it's no big deal.
My mother catches me in the living room, "Hey sweetie, where've you been?" Sitting on the couch she's knitting herself a scarf for the harsh winter, I don't blame her.
"Just with the gang, we had to film something for health." I nod, even though she's concentrating on her art.
"Is that why you're dressed up so nice?" She pauses to look at me, she's smiling, I know she's just asking questions, nonetheless she's suspicious of me and I know it. She's my mother.
"Yeah." I lie. "I'm gonna shower, okay mom?"
She hums at me, as I retreat to my bedroom, guiltiness washes over me as I breathe in the scent of Craig's suit, it smells of detergent and his sweat.
AN: Hey cool cats, thanks for the warm reception, it makes me feel gay. Thanks Bonriensis, for figuring out the Interpol songs, you win! Thanks for all the reviews! Interrogate me on tumblr at Motherfuckercraigtucker. See you next time!
