Author's note: Hey, thanks for hanging in with me so far! I can't tell you enough how much I appreciate the support.
The bells atop the door jingled with their usual enthusiasm as Craig stepped into the diner. Before the hostess could rush back to the counter, he could see his friend waving from a far booth across the way. He couldn't think why Clyde would have called him out so suddenly, unless it was trouble with a girl. Clyde was always tossing people back and forth, he could never keep track of who he was with currently. Bebe maybe? He decided it best to let his friend start the talking, and he'd figure things out from there.
"Hey douchebag, I was starting to think you wouldn't show." Clyde grinned, wearing the same sports jacket he'd donned since senior year in high school. Clyde was a mediocre jock at best, but he was still built better than most of the others in the town.
Craig rolled his eyes. "I'm on time, you're just early." He eyed the table apathetically, deciding that he definitely needed some caffeine. He flagged the waitress down, who looked equally unenthused that her table was turning out to be a typical coffee-only bunch, which waitresses attend to with blatant distain.
Clyde laughed, setting his menu to the side and folding his arms on the table. "So dude, I wanted to talk about the other night. Things got pretty hilarious, I even wound up getting back together with Bebe!"
At the very least, Craig could count on Clyde being predictable. "That's great Clyde. I am so greatful that you called me here with a vague text message late last night to tell me you're back to banging out some chick. Sooo happy."
With a grin, Clyde scooted closer and placed a hand over his friend's with a suggestive eyebrow raise. "Aw babe don't be jealous. If you wanna come home with me all you have to do is ask!"
Craig recoiled but couldn't help a chuckle. "God dude, you're so gross. Does that shit actually work on girls?"
"You'd be surprised. Confidance can go a long way with girls -or- guys."
The waitress set the coffee orders down, either paying no mind or being extremely good at pretending she wasn't hearing the conversation between the two.
Craig stared on, flat-mouthed. He knew Clyde was bi, and the guy wasn't usually one to make a spectacle out of it. Except around Craig, that is. "Okay then."
A smile splayed across Clyde's face, and he leaned closer to his friend. "You don't remember, do you?"
This got his attention. What the fuck could he be talking about... unless he was just messing around to get a rise out of him. "Remember what?"
Clyde chuckled, feeling like a teenage girl swapping gossip. "Oh man, you -were- pretty drunk. Also, I had no idea you were such a chatterbox! I really got to see a new side of the apathetic Craig Tucker the other night." He smiled at Craig's face, which was growing increasingly panicked.
"What the fuck are you talking about? What happened?" Fuck alcohol man, why the hell did he think it'd be a good idea to cut loose in front of everyone he'd ever known and everyone he's forced to see on a regular basis.
"Hah, calm down man." Clyde paused, and took a relaxed sip of his cola before continuing. "You've got a thing for the Tweeker kid, no big deal."
If a feeling could be made tangible, the whole world would have stopped. The waitress had stopped walking, and Craig's smug fucking grin would be unmoving. The only thing that could move was the sweat that Craig felt beading at the corner of his forehead beneath his hat, or the shuffling of his feet uncomfortably as his mind desperately tried to come up with a sarcastic comeback. "I-"
"Hey man calm down Jesus Christ, you look like I just told you Red Racer was cancelled or something." He chuckled, absentmindedly twirling his straw around in his cup.
"Clyde."
"Yeah babe?"
Craig would have strangled him if he weren't so incapacitated. "What -exactly- happened?" He didn't want to know, but he needed to.
He was met with another satisfied gossipy smile. "Well. Everyone's favorite emo kid decided to get a little tipsy." He waited for the eyeroll before continuing. Craig wasn't even emo but it irked him, and that was funny. "And before long, tipsy turned into red-faced stumble drunk."
Craig's brow twitched, wanting him to get on with it.
"So you kept asking to talk to me. Said you had something -really important- to say. I told you to just tell me, but every time you would just keel over laughing and go 'sHHHH- sHHHH Clyde- let's go... it's a secret!'."
"Oh God." Craig pinched his brow, wanting to crawl beneath the table. "I'm afraid to ask what happened next..."
"So you dragged me off to a corner of the room, and told me you had a crush on somebody. You thought they were -real- cute." He paused, and smirked. Craig's face was just too good, he wished he could somehow sneak a picture. "Then you said you needed to get some air, and went outside. By the time I caught up to your drunk ass, you were hanging all over the Tweeker. I just sort of put two and two together!"
"Oh my God." Craig put his head down into his arms, muttering against the table. "Oh my Gooood dude..." Fucking alcohol. Fucking parties.
Clyde laughed. "Chill out dude, your secret's safe with me."
Craig raised his head slightly, looking deflated as hell. "The biggest gossip in South Park is gonna keep a secret? Right, sure."
"Hey man!" Craig raised, slapping the boy on the shoulder. "How about one of your best friends since -gradeschool-? Have a little faith! I'm hurt..."
"Tch." Craig scoffed, sitting back in the booth. "Really Clyde it's... complicated."
"And really, Craig. I didn't plan on telling anybody! Don't you think the whole town would be ablaze with rumors by now if I did?"
Craig exhaled, and let a long sip of coffee give him time to think. Okay, maybe Clyde was telling the truth. Now Clyde knows he's gay, which he's fine with (well of course he's fine with it asshole, the kid's been trying to get in your pants since high school). Fuck, it wasn't like him and Tweek were going anywhere anyways. The kid would probably have a panic attack at the prospect of holding hands, let alone being in a relationship. Why'd he have to go and spill it? God, he was stupid.
Clyde's phone buzzed, and snapped Craig from his thoughts. "Hello? Ah, hey babe. Yeah? Sure, give me ten minutes... alright. Later." Clyde looked over sheepishly, digging though his wallet for some cash.
"Bebe?"
"Yeah. She wants to see me before she heads to a girl's night, something about having something to brag about." Clyde raised his brow, giving Craig a suggestive grin. He threw a few dollars on the table, and stood up. "Listen man, I just wanted us to be on the same page. I'm not gonna go spilling to anyone okay?"
Craig rolled his eyes, but he felt a little better than he had previously. "Sure man... thanks."
"I'll see you around, alright? Good luck with the spaz, I know you can do it!" He gave his friend a wink, before barely dodging a hurried waitress on the way out. "Seeya!" he shouted, before the familiar bell jingled to signal his exit.
So he had a crush on the Tweeker. What a grandoise way of making it official...
Craig scuffed his feet at a rock, wordlessly making his way back from the diner. He could see his breath in the air, it was colder than usual. With his hands in his pockets, he trudged onwards. How could he have been so stupid? Stupid alchohol and his stupid big mouth. This is why he didn't go out. He couldn't mess up and say something wrong if he went out. He couldn't ruin a friendship he's had since he was eight if he didn't go out. He sighed out his nose, yelping when his body came into abrupt contact with another.
"What the fuck?!" The man's voice raised.
The cup of coffee that he had been holding had been dumped all over them both. Craig yelled out, cursing at the scalding temperature.
"Hey kid, you need to watch where you're going!" Another man said, stepping up next to the one he had run into. Then another stepped forward.
Great... it was a group.
"Well it wasn't just me who wasn't paying attenion, you ran into me too ya know." God, stop talking just shut your big mouth you always make things worse.
The man raised his brow, tightening his fists. "You wanna be a smart guy, huh?" Craig gasped as a fist flew to his gut, making him fall to his knees. The other two goons quickly ran to the black haired boy, each holding an arm and keeping him steady.
Craig smirked. "This is it? God if you're gonna give me a pounding at least buy me dinner first."
The sarcasm wasn't appreciated as another blow hit him across the face. "You wanna keep talking shit, punk? What are you, a fag?"
The third blow hit, and Craig reeled back a scream. He looked angrily at his aggressors and spat a wad of blood up at the main one's face. "You're a fucking... weakling. Fight me without... these losers."
The man's eyes widened with lividity. "I swear to God I'm going to drain the life from your douchey little face-"
One of the other goons spoke up, nervously. "H-hey man maybe you're going a little far..."
"Shut the hell up!" He yelled, striking a particularly hard blow across the other side of Craig's face. "This little punk thinks he can mess with me and get away with it, so he-"
"T-THAT'S ENOUGH!" A voice came from behind the trio, causing them all to freeze up. Craig couldn't turn around to see, but he knew from the sound who it was; and he needed him to get out.
"Tweek, get out of here!" He yelled, fighting against the restraints of the two older boys. Tweek didn't need to see this, and he sure as hell didn't want him being a part of it. But as blood dribbled from the side of his mouth, he knew the shaky boy wasn't moving. "I said GO!"
"Aww how sweet" The leader of the trio looked to Craig, sarcastically. "Looks like your boyfriend showed up to save the day! Now I -really- don't feel bad; just killing a couple of fags after all."
Craig shouted, desperately trying to lunge forward as the man walked away from him. "NO- DON'T YOU FUCKING TOUCH HIM YOU PIECE OF SHIT! HEY!"
Tweek took a nervous step back from the aggressor. "D-don't aCK- come any closer! I-I mean it!"
A grin splayed across the man's face, and he cracked his knuckles. "Come on, don't you wanna play with your boyfriend? We're having a ball here."
"Wh-FUCK!" Craig managed to get an arm free, and pummeled his fist into the first goon's face. He managed to get a kick in at the other's stomach, sending him coughing to the ground.
"Oh JESus- g-get away from him." Tweek reached to his belt and unsheathed a serrated silver knife, holding it shakily at the man.
The man put his arms up, and took a step back. "Woah kid, shit calm down."
Craig looked up and gasped, simultaniously with the other two. "Tweek... just-"
The blonde's arms were shaking, tears welled in his eyes. "Get the fuck out o-of here! Or gAH- or else! Tweek tried to sound strong, but the way he was frantically twitching and on the verge of sobs he looked more like a desperate drug addict than anything. "I'll aH- fucking kill you if you d-don't leave RIGHT NOW!"
"C-come on man..." One of the lesser goons spoke up, already creeping his way out of the situation.
"You fags got lucky this time. Whatever, let's go." The man shrugged and pulled the collar of his jacket back into place, briskly walking away and out of sight from any potential onlookers.
Tweek shoved the weapon back into it's sheath, and ran to Craig. "O-oh my god aAH- Craig y-you're hurt!" There was enough blood on the boy's face to cover the purple-bruised skin that was quickly growing darker. Tweek couldn't hold back a sniffle, and he started wiping at tears he couldn't control.
"Hey, I'm fine Tweek... You shouldn't have rushed in like that. It was dangerous." God forbid they had touched a hair on the kid's head, he would've bashed their skulls in.
"B-but you nNA- you... LOOK at you! Craig I... you are..." Tweek's vision grew fuzzy, and the scenery shifted to a dull yellow.
"Tweek? Tweek are you okay?"
"I jes..."
Craig jumped forward to catch the boy's falling body before it hit the pavement. "Dude? Tweek?!"
"Nnn.." The boy mumbled, his eyes closed.
With a sigh, Craig looked down at his friend. 'He... he saved me.' He didn't smile. He reached his hand under his friend's weight, and hauled him up in his arms. No, this wasn't a bullshit bonding experience from some dumb fairy tale. Tweek could've gotten hurt, and that wasn't okay. He counted the blocks left to his house as he walked, every step painful. Just make it to that mailbox. Just make it to that lamp-post. When he finally made it through the front door, he dumped Tweek on the couch and fell to the floor himself. This was fine... he could rest here. He had made especially sure to lock the door behind him, for now he could... rest.