- Craig -
Texting Tweek before work allowed Craig to go in in a better mood than usual. His Security outfit fit uncomfortably, he had to have his shirt tucked in, at least until he was alone, then he could undo it. Soon he was the only one and he set up in the room with the cameras, glancing between them and his phone as he texted Tweek.
Eventually Tweek asked if he had something to tell him. Craig stared at that message for a long time. Eventually, he got up and did his cursory walk around the mall, checking that everything was as it should be.
When he got back to the camera room, he looked at his phone again, that unanswered message glaring at him. But soon a flurry made his phone buzz like crazy. Tweek was worried because he hadn't answered.
He wondered how Tweek knew to ask if he had something to tell him. No one knew he had some feelings for him. He told Tweek he was fine, leaving his question unanswered.
It had hit him, after Wendy's funeral, that he needed to start being honest with the blond, and himself. He just wasn't sure how to do it. Not over text, that was for sure. But he wasn't good with people, but then..., Tweek wasn't like other people. He was Tweek.
Maybe he should tell him. Craig mused on this for the majority of the rest of his shift. It's only after he gets Tweek's going to sleep text that he decides. He'll tell him.
About an hour later, he finishes his rounds and sits back down to send a text to Tweek.
It's a simple enough text, so why does his heart start beating faster? And why is he shaking?
But he sent it, a simple text. "Meet me at Stark's Pond tomorrow, evening preferably, but let me know if you have to work and I can just pick you up after your shift."
He used to know Tweek's schedule, it never changed. Tweek was like that, he loved routine. Said they made him feel "normal". Craig could understand that, he liked his routine too, it was nice and boring. No surprises.
Not like...
Not like what happened with Wendy.
Craig sat in his truck after clocking out. He just stopped, one hand on the keys, the other on the wheel.
He knew what she had written on last, not just her facebook post, but the simple note she had left. And he wondered, who was she talking to? Sure, he had never liked her, but she had gained his respect, she was a damn intelligent person. She had..., everything. A loving family, a full ride scholarship. He leaned back in his truck, taking a long exhale.
What the hell was wrong with her that she would take her own life? When everything seemed so damn perfect?
Not for the first time, he opened his phone and played Up All Night by Blink-182. He closed his eyes and lost himself in the song.
Still trying to figure out why she would do that. Because if she could fall, so could he.
And how many times had he stood at that cliff himself? Not just figuratively. He had gone out to the bridge before, stood at its edge, gazed out at the river. Felt the wind on his face. But he had climbed back through and went home. His eyes drifted to the seat next to him, beneath which sat his 9mm pistol he had for emergencies, it was locked with a combo only he knew. He had sat with it in his hands, contemplating its cold steel. He had even gone so far as to cock it and put it against his temple. But he never pulled the trigger, he just put it back beneath his pillow, where he used to keep it as a teen. It had gotten it months before moving out, and slept with it every night, just in case.
He did other things as well, but they were more for simple pain, than actual desire to die in those moments. He still had faint marks on his abdomen and forearms where he had put lit cigarettes out on himself. He had a few cut scars on his upper thighs as well. His knuckles were permanently scarred from his habit of punching brick walls.
It just went around and around in his head, if she could fall, so could he. What had pushed her over the edge? What kept him from going over that same edge?
He didn't know. He started his truck and went home. Once inside he peeled off his uniform and took a hot shower, trying to shake the thoughts away. Instead he focused on what exactly he would say to Tweek. He had to get it right, for himself, to tell Tweek. Because he needed to know, just in case. He finished his shower and found some boxers to throw on before having breakfast of eggs and some water from the tap. Exhausted, he drug himself to bed, and fell asleep, though it wasn't the most restful.
When he woke up, he checked his phone and found answering messages from Tweek, saying after work would be best and that he hoped Craig was home sleeping and not murdered on his way home. Craig replied that he had been asleep and he'll come to the shop later that night. He went to the bathroom first, and then went about finding proper clothes before going to visit Stripe and offer him a treat and let him run around his room a little. Stripe squeaked happily at him and trotted around the room some before coming to nestle in Craig's lap. Craig pet him absently as he thought of what to say to Tweek.
He'd had to be honest with him. He knew that and wanted to be, but why did it fill him with dread? He sighed as he stroked Stripe before placing him gently back in his cage. He told Stripe he would see him later before leaving the room to make something for food. As it was microwaving, he went up to his phone, and plugged it in after checking the time. He had a while yet, to figure how to say what he wanted to to Tweek.
He decided to go ahead and take his truck since it was getting kind of chilly out.
He idled in the parking lot for a few minutes before deciding to go in and get a coffee while he waited the next fifteen minutes for Tweek to be ready. Tweek greeted him with a smile and made his coffee before resuming cleaning. Craig leaned against one of the booths by the door and sipped his coffee. He was still unsure what to say exactly, but what he was sure enough of, would be good enough.
Finally, Tweek was ready to go and they went out to his truck. Craig started it and turned the heat up before pulling out and driving them to Stark's Pond.
"So what did you want to meet about?" Tweek asked, looking at Craig expectantly.
Craig fiddled with the heat before answering.
"I ... I uh, do have something to tell you."
Tweek waited, a million things racing in his brain, but he waited for Craig to speak.
He exhaled for a while before he started, "I like you Tweek. Not in a platonic way. Hell, I don't know what kind of way it is exactly. But I want to be with you, like ... all the time. When you're not with me, I'm thinking about you. I don't expect anything from you, I just..., I just wanted to tell you. In case something happened and I never got to tell you first."
Tweek is quiet for a long time, so long that Craig looks over at him and sees the blond is staring at him with tears in his eyes.
"Tweek what's wrong?" the concern filling his voice, Craig reaches out to his friend but stops short, unsure if after that revelation if anything has changed between them.
Tweek swallows the lump in his throat and takes a deep breath, looking away to wipe the tears that had welled up.
"Craig," he sniffles before unbuckling his seatbelt and launching himself at Craig across the cab of the truck. Craig is surprised but catches his friend easily. He squeezes him hard, in what he hopes is reassurance, as Tweek sobs into his chest.
"Tweekers what's wrong?" Craig asks softly, rubbing his friend's back in small circles.
It's muffled but he says, "I care about you so much."
Craig hugs him tighter, both arms around him.
"You've got no idea what that means to me."
Tweek presses his face further into Craig's chest, taking fistfuls of his shirt.
They sit like that for a long time, eventually, Craig offers to give Tweek a ride home. Tweek says yes, if Craig will stay a while.
Craig checks his phone, and tells him he has about an hour before he's got to go to work. Tweek nods in understanding and they go to Tweek's where Tweek gets Craig more coffee and they relax on the couch together, Tweek curled up against Craig.