05.31.2012
Craig Tucker: Hey Stan
Stan Marsh: hey.
Craig Tucker: I'm going over to Kenny's today, just thought I'd let you know
Stan Marsh: ...yeah.
Stan Marsh: have fun with that.
Craig Tucker: You okay?
Stan Marsh: no.
Craig Tucker: Oh, um, what's wrong?
Craig Tucker: If it's Kenny, I've been telling him I'll make time for him for like a week now, and I don't want to blow him off again
Stan Marsh: good guess
Craig Tucker: ...do you not want me to go? Because I don't think I could choose between you and Kenny
Craig Tucker: I mean happiness wise
Craig Tucker: I can't let you both feel shitty
Stan Marsh: ugh
Stan Marsh: no
Stan Marsh: don't
Stan Marsh: just fucking go
Stan Marsh: ignore me
Craig Tucker: I'm not going to fucking ignore you, I love you
Craig Tucker: So tell me what I can fucking do
Stan Marsh: you can't do anything right now, I'm just fucking pissed off
Stan Marsh: that's it
Craig Tucker: At what?
Stan Marsh: at myself
Craig Tucker: For?
Craig Tucker: Look, I have an hour before I told Kenny I'd come over. I was going to do some homework, but I can just come talk to you or something
Stan Marsh: no
Stan Marsh: I don't want to see anyone right now, ok
Craig Tucker: Well what if I want to see you
Stan Marsh: I just don't want to talk about it
Stan Marsh: I want to sit here
Stan Marsh: smoke my cigarette
Stan Marsh: throw it on the bed, kill myself in a bedfire
Stan Marsh: and then just die peacefully okay
Craig Tucker: Fuck you, okay
Stan Marsh: Okay
Stan Marsh: that's fine
Craig Tucker: Don't fucking say shit like that
Stan Marsh: that's all I fucking hear every day from Kenny
Stan Marsh: I guess it's catching
Craig Tucker: Don't let it be fucking catching
Craig Tucker: There's nothing wrong with you, you just catch a lot of shit
Craig Tucker: So I'm going to come see you, and then go talk to Kenny and see if I can get him to calm the fuck down
Craig Tucker: And then hopefully it won't be as bad
Stan Marsh: no
Craig Tucker: No to what fucking part
Stan Marsh: I don't want to see anyone right now, I want to be alone
Craig Tucker: Fine.
Stan Marsh: those tapes are fine at your house right
Stan Marsh: because I don't want them over here
Stan Marsh: my dad would probably pop them in to see what movies they were
Craig Tucker: Yeah, they're fine
Stan Marsh: okay
Stan Marsh: I kind of want you to just hold me for the next five hours
Stan Marsh: or all night
Stan Marsh: but you need to work things out with kenny so whatever
Stan Marsh: i don't want you to have to choose
Craig Tucker: Well I'll come over and see you for a while, then go make sure he's okay, then come back
Stan Marsh: okay
Craig Tucker: I'll come over now, then
Stan Marsh: if you want
Craig Tucker: I do
Stan Marsh: you don't have to
Stan Marsh: I won't be pissed if you don't
Craig Tucker: I'm coming over, I want to see you before I go see Kenny
Stan Marsh: ok
Stan Marsh: my mom is downstairs
Stan Marsh: so um
Stan Marsh: I guess good luck getting past her without her noticing
Craig Tucker: I'll be pleasant
Craig Tucker: And she'll let me past
Stan Marsh: yeah..just don't get kicked out
Craig Tucker: I won't
Craig Tucker: I'm leaving
Stan Marsh: okay
Craig gets what he needs before heading out of his house. He's a little annoyed that he's leaving his homework, but he doesn't actually care. He didn't want to do it anyway, and Stan is more important. He makes his way out to his car and makes the quick drive to Stan's house.
When he gets there, he's already got his hand on the knob to just walk inside, but then he remembers that Stan had said his mom was downstairs. Maybe it would be a good thing to knock, since she apparently already doesn't like Craig even though they've never met.
That kind of pisses him off – the fact that every parent assumes he's a "bad influence." That's what all the fucking parents think. Why do they even think that? Craig doesn't do anything that bad, especially not publicly. Ugh, whatever, he doesn't care. He just has to make her like him, right?
He knocks and waits for someone to answer.
The door opened after a few minutes had passed; but it was Stan's mother, Sharon. She looked at Craig with a brow raised, and then opened the screen door, but didn't invite him inside.
"Hi, you must be Craig. Stan told me to tell his friends he's not feeling well right now, do you want me to give him a message?"
Craig stares up at her, giving the most sincere smile he can manage. He feels extremely fake, though. In reality, his blood is running cold with the amount of anger he's starting to feel. Stan's 'friends.' She's ignoring the fact that Craig is the boyfriend and not a friend. He already hates her.
"Hey, yeah, I'm Craig," he says, maintaining his kind disposition. He thinks he should shake her hand or something, but that's more of a thing you do with dads. "I'm actually not going to be here long, I have somewhere else to be. But Stan said he needed me for something, so may I come in?"
It's taking all of his energy not to just push her out of the way. He doesn't take shit from people, and honestly, if Stan hadn't said her opinion mattered, he would push her out of the way. He'd do it to his own parents, too, if they fucking disregarded Stan like that.
"I suppose," Sharon said, opening up the door so Craig could walk in. She hadn't made any distinct expression the entire time, so it was difficult to tell if she was feeling anything at all. Truthfully, she wasn't happy to see Craig, but she wasn't exactly angry to see him either.
"You might want to bring him the kleenex, it's in the bathroom. He always forgets it."
It was more of a 'you should know to do this' comment then a suggestion, and it came off a bit like a warning.
"Thank you," he says, stepping inside the house. He considers staying downstairs and chatting for a minute to try and make more of an impression, but she's already pissing him off this much so he really shouldn't. He nods his thanks to her one more time for letting him in before heading up the stairs. What a bitch.
He stops in the bathroom on the way to Stan's room, though, because he figures she meant something by the Kleenex comment. When he opens Stan's door, he sees him face down in his pillows. Why is he face down? "You okay?" he asks, shutting the door and making his way over to sit on the edge of the mattress beside Stan. He sets the tissues next to him and puts a hand on Stan's back, letting him know he's there.
Sharon watches Craig go up the steps as she shut the door, and then walked off to the kitchen.
As Craig opened the door, Stan glared into his pillow, but didn't move his head. He really had hoped Craig would just move on to Kenny's place and not come over to ask him about what was wrong. Kyle didn't get it, no one got it, he was alone and miserable.
"Fine." He said sarcastically, muffled by the pillow. If he turned, Craig totally could see he had been crying, and he didn't want him to look at him. It was embarrassing.
Thinking for a second, Craig moves himself to be laying on top of Stan. He lays exactly on Stan's back, tucking his arms in on either side of Stan in a weird kind of hug, his legs laying on Stan's. The only part of him that isn't on Stan is his head, which he'd laid next to Stan. If nothing else, it would make Stan laugh because it's kind on an awkward thing to be doing. But really, Craig just wants a hug after dealing with Stan's mom. She hadn't really done a lot, but it had been enough to royally piss Craig off and make him need confirmation that Stan wants him. And whatever's bothering Stan, he probably needs a hug too. So whatever, Craig will do it this way since Stan apparently doesn't want to move.
"Better?" he asks, trying to sound more happy to be with Stan instead of pissed after dealing with his mother.
Stan turned his head to the side, his brows knitting together as he felt Craig...what, hug-top him? What the hell was he doing? It did make Stan smile, though, and he tried not to move his face in a way Craig could see him from the top - but he did want to talk, so it was necessary to un-muffle his voice.
"Yeah. You make a great blanket." Stan said apathetically, and then sighed as he snuggled down in his bed, not fighting. His voice sounded a bit strange from crying, but he was trying to cover it up. Then he realized that there was a box of kleenex nearby him. Goddamnit, how did he know?
"Ugh...damnit, Craig."
"I'm glad my blanket skills can be of good use. I practice," he says, his efforts in not being pissy coming out in sarcasm. It's not mean sarcasm, though, more humored. Though, when Stan curses, Craig frowns again. "What?" he asks, wondering what he'd done.
"How did you know I was crying. Goddamnit, why do you know me so well." Stan didn't know that his mother had given Craig's a heads up- instead, he took it as intuition or keen observation skills.
"I don't care if you hang out with Kenny...I'm just pissed off. I'm pissed off that he's so depressed and I can't do a goddamn thing because I'm depressed and together we just make this huge mass of depression and it's depressing me and I just want to curl up and die. I don't care if I'm not supposed to say it, I'm miserable."
Craig doesn't say anything for a minute, just listening to Stan's almost raw voice. He tightens his arms a bit on Stan's sides in an attempt to hold him closer, even though they're already as close as they can be. "You shouldn't want to die…" he says quietly, now more just sad than pissed. He doesn't want a suicidal Kenny and a suicidal Stan. Craig might just have to lock himself up in his room for a while if all he gets is talk of death.
He moves his head to where Stan had turned his face and just kind of presses his lips to Stan's forehead, letting them linger there. He doesn't want Stan to actually be this depressed. It sucks.
Stan heaved another heavy sigh, and reached underneath him to find Craig's hand. Gripping the other's fingers gently, he closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of being hugged.
"I don't want to die...just sometimes. Like...the times when you're not here, I want to die sort of, but I won't, okay."
He rubbed the other's hand soothingly, his eyes still closed.
Craig removes himself from Stan's forehead and shuffles a bit down Stan's body so he can lay his head on Stan's back. He feels Stan caressing his hand and he just sighs tiredly.
…wait. Stan just pretty much said that Craig is the only thing he lives for. What the fuck, that's not even possible. Stan has so much more than just Craig, he's sure. Because if not, that's… pretty fucking intense.
"You better not, because I'll kick your ass if you leave me with a corpse," he mumbles. It's supposed to be encouragement to live, but he's not sure how it'll come across.
"I'm never going to leave you," Stan said before he could stop himself, but once it was out, he sighed again heavily and thought about the way Craig's body felt against his. He was still sore from the night before last, to the point he was covered with anti-pain cream and had taken some medication, but he really didn't care.
"I'm sorry...I'm just...Kenny, he just keeps telling me he's going to commit suicide and die and all these ways and I can't do a damn thing about it and I keep making it worse and then he says he doesn't want to be friends but not really..it's so confusing..and I just want to be a good friend again."
Craig actually feels himself heat up a little at Stan's first comment. That hadn't quite been what Craig had meant, but it's… nice to hear.
"I'm, um, I'm sure Kenny will come around eventually. It'll just take some time. Really, I'm not that special; he'll find someone better and move on. Just give it time," he says. He's sure it's true. He's just not sure how far off 'eventually' is. Hopefully going over there today will help.
"Eh...I think I fucked my relationship with Kenny when I let him blow me in the back of my truck," Stan muttered crossly, knowing it was true. That was the can of worms, technically - everything had been weird after that. He really missed hanging out with Kenny - besides Kyle, Kenny had always been there for him, and it was really hard to have him be there but be miserable.
"I don't think it's repairing itself anytime soon, dude...just...let's just not talk. I guess...just hug me until you leave and then come back. ...but try not to like, get caught, my mom will throw you out if she smells pot or something. My dad probably won't give a shit, but my mom will."
"I'll spray Axe or something, it'll be okay," he says absently. Really, the smell of pot doesn't stick like cigarette smoke does. But he'll spray anyway, just to makes Stan sleep easier. He just continues to hug onto Stan and doesn't say anything more.
He stays quiet until it feels like forever has passed. Craig turns his head to look at Stan's alarm clock and notices that it's been almost exactly an hour. "Hey Stan? I have to go now. But I'll be back as soon as I can, okay?" he says tiredly. He's still frustrated and a little upset about all the talk of death, but more just tired. Tired of everything. He starts to get off Stan. Expecting the other to sit up as well so they can say good bye.
After the hour had passed, he slowly moved once Craig did to sit up and give him a hug. He did pause though, and after a moment he said, "Hey Craig...?" He wanted to ask him something, and it had been on his mind for a couple of days.
"Can I ask you to do something for me?"
Craig returns Stan's hug and pulls back with an interested brow. "What is it?" he asks, wondering why Stan sounds hesitant to ask. He wonders if Stan has figured out yet that Craig does virtually everything Stan asks every damned time.
Stan stared at Craig for a minute, looking rather apprehensive. Then he finally spoke, and he used a very monotone voice. "...like, the next time we do it, can you promise never to forget the lube even if I ask to forget it, because I think you put my ass out of commission for at least a week. I mean, I love you and all, but it hurt. A lot. It's okay then..but...just, not again, okay?"
Craig gives an awkward little half smile and a not quite nervous laugh. He rubs the back of his neck and says, "Um, I told you it would hurt… But yeah, never again," he agrees. It actually freaks him out a little that Stan is actually admitting to being hurt by that. That's one of Craig's worst fears in this relationship, ever since Stan cried that one time. "But, I'm going to go, okay?" he says, leaning forward to give Stan a kiss. "I'm sorry I hurt you," he says sincerely, before pulling away from him and standing up to leave.
"Well, I didn't say I hated it, I just...it was a lot. Umn...yeah, go," He said with a frown, not wanting to elaborate. Craig already thought he was a freak, he wasn't going to get into that too. He fell back on his side, his head on his pillow as he watched Craig go.
Craig gives Stan a wave as he turns toward the door. "Yeah, I'll try not to take too long; love you," he says, purposefully ignoring Stan's comment. He figures it's not really something Stan wants to get into, and probably not going to be a short conversation. And being late on going to see Kenny would be bad.
Craig wanders back into Stan's house, hoping to God that no one is downstairs this time. He gets lucky and makes his way into Stan's room, being as quiet as possible. He's as high as a fucking kite, though, so he's not sure how quiet he's actually being.
"Stann," he whispers dramatically, snickering a bit because why the fuck is he being quiet? He quickly approaches Stan's bed and al but pounces on it, curling up next to Stan. "I missed you," he says in that same loud whisper, giving Stan what's probably a sour kiss. He probably tastes highly of weed, and if you don't smoke it's not always pleasant. After a moment, he says, "Oh my God why do you smell like pizza? Do you have pizza?" he asks, suddenly craving a slice. And some orange juice. He really wants some fucking orange juice.
Stan had curled up on his bed in his clothes, and he even left his shoes on. His eyes were closed when Craig entered, and when the other approached his bed, he furrowed his brow as he felt the other pounce on it. He was really dreading this whole interaction - he hadn't ever seen Craig high since they were dating. He was positive that Craig showed up high to school probably a few times, or maybe saw him out somewhere when he was totally soaring through the sky, but he hadn't ever loved someone who smoked pot.
When he planted a kiss on his mouth, he had to keep himself from gagging. He couldn't suppress the, "Ugh," after it though, and he opened his eyes and narrowed them as he looked at Craig. When he asked about pizza, he frowned, not wanting to tell him why he smelled like pizza. "Ughhhh...do you want me to go get you something from the fridge," He asked, reaching out to run his hand through Craig's hair. Even if he was pissed, his Craig was back and he really wanted him there - high or not.
Craig leans into Stan's touch, loving the feel of Stan's finger in his hair. They just feel really good, okay? "No, don't fucking leave, I want you right here," he says, pulling Stan into a tight hug. "I missed you," he says again, not really realizing he'd already said it. He just talks a lot when he's high, and sometimes repeats himself. He closes his eyes and hums happily as Stan continues to play with his hair. He really likes that Stan likes playing with his hair.
"Ughhhnnn, you smell like axe..." Stan moaned, a bit pitifully as he was pulled into a tight hug by the other. It didn't really bother him that Craig smelled like pot, because sometimes Kenny did when he came to school, but really, why did they both have to have addictions that made them act...weird? He wasn't complaining though, he was getting the hug that he wanted. Absentmindedly massaging the other's scalp, he sighed again, still looking at Craig's face. He was kind of adorable like this. And the way he was reacting to him playing with his hair, it reminded him of a puppy. Stan fucking loves puppies.
"You're cute." He commented idly, and then shut his eyes, still rubbing the other's head.
"Heyy, I'm always cute," Craig says, his lips turning into a bit of a frown. He quickly forgets about it and moves on, though, looking to Stan's face. "Mm, you're cute too," he says, leaning towards Stan's face to touch their noses together. He nuzzles Stan and closes his eyes with a content smile on his face. The only thing that would make this any better would be a fucking bucket of… of food. Of McDonald's fries. "I love you," he says, leaning in to peck Stan on the lips again.
Goddamn, it's been way too long since Craig has been high. Everything just feels so perfect, and nothing seems to matter quite as much. What's so bad about their lives, anyway? Everything seems pretty damned good right now. Come on, he's god a fucking cute boyfriend that he loves; what the fuck else matters?
"Yeah, I guess." Stan murmurs, feeling the other brush their noses together in an eskimo kiss. Well, that was weird, but still, it was sort of nice. And when he nuzzled him, Stan smiled, still thinking of how he acted like a lovable puppy. Why wasn't he like this when not high - then he could enjoy how their kisses didn't taste like crap. "I love you too, Craig. But really, it's late, and I'm tired...so just hug me and go to sleep and I'll like, make you something in the morning before school, okay."
He rubbed Craig's head a little faster to ruffle it for a moment like he would on a dog's back, but then went back to massaging delicately with his fingers. "Get some sleep."
Craig just hums his agreement and hugs Stan close. "Yeah… 'm tired," he mumbles, letting his eyes flutter shut. What a fucking perfect ending to a day. Laying in Stan's bed with Stan in his arms and… Stan. "I love you so much, dude," he says. His brain feels like it's floating on air, and it's making him really sleepy now that Stan mentioned being tired. He settles comfortably into the mattress, his head on Stan's pillow. He wants to pull the blankets up over them and just curl up under them and sleep forever with Stan pressed up against his chest. But he's way too lazy to even try to reach for the blankets. He's too tired.
Stan sat up after a few minutes, and then reached down to pull the covers up over Craig. He was still dressed, so he slowly took off his shirt, and then tossed his shoes on the floor as well as his pants, and then he curled up next to Craig, returning his hand to the other's head as he massaged his scalp until he drifted to sleep.
"Welcome back," Craig mutters, winding his arms back around Stan again. He's so warm under the blankets and so comfy next to Stan. So fucking comfortable. It's like he's never laid in a bed before now, and Stan's body just feels like it fits perfectly in his arms. He makes another content noise and buries his nose down in the top of Stan's hair. "Night," he says, feeling himself start to drift.