"Clyde! Come down here a minute!"
Clyde sighs from where he's perched on the edge of his bed, his gaze aimed toward the Tucker house. He's been sitting for the better part of an hour waiting for... something. He's not sure what that something is. He's not sure about a lot of things anymore, and the more he thinks about it, the worse he feels.
He hasn't had a real conversation with Craig since Halloween night over a month ago. Not that he hasn't tried, but every attempt has turned stiff and awkward and Clyde can't figure out why. That's a lie. He knows why, he just can't seem to admit it all to himself or explain it all to Craig. He tried all those months ago with a hastily written letter left on Craig's dresser, but he knows that letter didn't even scratch the surface, nor did it make amends for all the terrible things Clyde did to him.
Clyde sighs again, his stomach clenching like it always does when he thinks about Craig too much, and slides off his bed. He's halfway down the stairs when his dad appears at the bottom, drying a dish while he waits.
"There you are. I was about to come up and get you," he says and walks back to the kitchen.
Clyde pads after him, hoping silently his dad isn't about to ask him to shovel the sidewalks. He stands by the counter and waits for his dad to speak, watching as he slowly dries more dishes and stacks them in the cupboard. He's starting to get antsy when his dad finally breaks the silence.
"What happened to that girlfriend of yours? I haven't seen her around."
Clyde doesn't say anything for a moment, moving to his dad's side so he can help wash. "We broke up a while ago."
His dad hums and keeps drying. "I always liked her. You two seemed like you got along well, and she was always polite."
Clyde snorts as he fondly reminisces on the days he spent with Bebe, her potty mouth worse than anyone else he knows. Everyone except Craig that is. He then starts thinking about how his dad would react if he were dating Craig instead and wants to laugh even more. He knows his dad definitely wouldn't use the word "polite" to describe Craig.
"What's so funny?" his dad asks, gesturing for Clyde to just stack up the rest of the wet dishes.
"Nothing," Clyde says and looks out the kitchen window, his heart jumping when he sees Craig has finally wandered outside with a snow shovel.
"Well, I'm sure you'll find another girlfriend soon," his dad continues, but Clyde is barely listening now. All of his attention is on Craig. "Donovan men never stay single for very long."
Clyde finally turns from the window and waves off the rest of his dad's speech. "Yeah, uh, do you want me to shovel the driveway?" Clyde asks and hopes the question isn't too suspicious.
His dad looks at him with raised eyebrows. "You're offering to shovel the driveway? Are you coming down with something?" he asks and steps closer to try and feel Clyde's forehead.
Clyde dodges his arm and shrugs. "I know you'll ask me to do it eventually, so I might as well do it now."
His dad doesn't look like he buys it, but he shrugs. "Well, it is good to see you take initiative in something."
Clyde doesn't wait for him to say anything else and bolts up the stairs to grab warmer clothes. He pulls on his coat and hat and some extra socks but can't find his gloves after a frenzied search. He sighs heavily when he remembers that they've been missing for a few months and makes a mental note to go buy a new pair as he bounds down the stairs and pulls on his boots. He speeds out into the biting air and to the garage door, fighting to keep his gaze away from the Tucker's yard.
Only once he's grabbed the snow shovel and started on the driveway does he look over. Craig has his back to him, but Clyde knows it won't be long before he's spotted. He slowly works up a rhythm, tossing the snow piles into the yard, as he waits for Craig to look.
But he waits and waits and has half the driveway done, and Craig still hasn't turned around. Clyde debates on making an obnoxious noise or maybe even calling out to him, but he isn't sure Craig would even want to talk to him if he knew Clyde were there.
Another twenty minutes pass and Craig is standing still now, soft plumes of smoke curling up into the air above his head. Clyde starts thinking about that night on Token's porch trying to learn how to make smoke rings and everything that happened after and before he knows it, he's dropped the shovel into the snow and started walking, his feet carrying him to Craig before his brain can catch up.
Once his brain does catch up, his stomach tightens uncomfortably. He debates on just turning tail and hauling it back to his own driveway, but Craig must have heard his crunching footsteps as he is now facing Clyde, an eyebrow raised and his shovel balanced in the crook of his arm.
Clyde stands there and stares, his brain screaming at him to "run, go, flee you fool." He's frozen, not sure what he should say or how to begin to say all the things he wants to say to Craig. All the things he has wanted to say to him for a long time.
"Hey Clyde," Craig says after a moment and digs his cigarettes out of his back pocket, offering one to Clyde. Clyde takes it and lets Craig light it for him, his brain still on autopilot.
Craig lights his own and gestures for Clyde to follow him. Clyde does. He takes shallow drags off his cigarette and follows Craig into his garage, taking a seat in one of the plastic chairs left out.
"Aren't your hands cold?" Craig asks, and Clyde almost doesn't realize what he's talking about until he glances down at them. His fingernails are blue and his skin is dry and chapped. He hadn't noticed before now.
"I couldn't find my gloves," he says and clears his throat. He takes another drag and watches as the exhaled smoke drifts up to the ceiling. Anything to keep his gaze off of Craig.
"Oh," Craig says, and Clyde looks at him anyway. "That's because I have them."
Clyde looks down at Craig's hands and sees the familiar gloves, suddenly remembering that he had loaned them to Craig during Token's party. Clyde almost wants to laugh at the similarities between then and now.
"You can have them back. I kept forgetting to give them to you," Craig says and sticks his cigarette between his lips so he can pull the gloves off.
Clyde shakes his head, waving a hand at him. "No, I gave them to you," he says. "You can keep them."
Craig looks unsure but pulls them back on anyway. "Thanks," he says and smiles in a way that makes Clyde's stomach knot.
"How have you been?" Clyde asks to distract from his screwed up feelings.
"Good," Craig answers and stuffs his cigarette butt in an old coffee ground container.
"That's a broad answer," Clyde responds and grins.
Craig snorts and smiles a little wider. "You get what you give."
Clyde laughs and tries to ignore the overwhelming urge he feels to kiss Craig again. He hands Craig his cigarette butt and ignores how his heart races when their fingers brush. He starts wondering when he'll get better at ignoring these things.
"How have you been?" Craig asks.
"I've been okay. My dad keeps asking about Bebe though," Clyde says and wonders why he even felt the need to bring that up.
"What, does he miss his future daughter-in-law already?" Craig asks, and Clyde can almost hear his eyes rolling in the way he says it.
"She was never going to be his daughter-in-law," Clyde says and glares when Craig responds with laughter.
"Oh yeah right. You know as well as I do that you would have married her right out of high school if I hadn't been there to fuck it up."
"You didn't fuck anything up," Clyde whispers and Craig pauses in his ensuing mirth, quickly sobering.
"Do you want to come inside? It's freezing out here," Craig says and stands before Clyde can answer. Clyde follows him to the front door without a word, doing his best to knock the excess snow off his boots.
He doesn't say anything as they shed their coats and boots and head up to Craig's room, the entire house silent save for the creaking stairs. Craig plops down on his bed, pulling his feet up under himself. He gestures for Clyde to sit too, and he does, maintaining some distance.
Clyde watches Craig pick at his nails for a few minutes before Craig speaks again.
"What's been going on with you?" he asks, and Clyde looks at him, not sure how to answer. "You haven't really been all there lately."
Clyde sighs and turns, stretching his legs out across the bed. "I know, I've just got a lot of stuff I need to figure out."
Craig is looking back at him and gives a quiet hum in response. "Anything you need help with?"
Clyde smiles at him but shakes his head. "No, it's something I should figure out on my own."
"If you say so," Craig says and shrugs, turning to mirror Clyde's posture from the other side of the bed.
"How are Token and Tweek?" Clyde asks as a means of changing topics.
Craig's gone back to picking at his nails, making Clyde wonder if it's a nervous habit. "They're good. Tweek's still paranoid about everything and Token's still a nagging mother."
Clyde smiles to himself. "I miss them," he says. "I miss all of you."
Craig looks up at him, smiling back. Clyde really wants to hug him.
"We miss you too. The group dynamic just isn't the same without you," Craig says, and Clyde really does hug him this time without pausing to over think it.
Craig hugs back with only a little hesitation but quickly shoves Clyde off with a laugh.
"Okay, that's enough of that," he says and Clyde laughs with him before moving in for another hug.
"Are you sure? Because I think you could use another," he says, trying hard to fight down his laughter at Craig's look of mock terror.
"No get away!" Craig yells and manages to dodge under Clyde's oncoming arms. Clyde darts around the room trying to catch him for a while before he manages to pin him on the bed, the "hug" quickly turning into a brief wrestling match.
Clyde, being the athlete he is, manages to get Craig in a headlock before Craig finally stops struggling.
"I give!" he says and pushes at Clyde's chest, muffled laughter bubbling up from under Clyde's arm.
Clyde releases him and stands up, his arms raised in victory as he pretends to relish in Craig's fake cheering.
"Alright, no need to rub it in," Craig says and laughs.
Clyde plops back on the bed and smiles at Craig again, feeling winded but good for once.
"I really do miss this, you know," Craig says and Clyde looks back at him, the smile gone now. "Spending time with you, I mean."
He's back to picking at his nails, but Clyde's mind is now reeling, and he can't stop staring. He wants to say something, but he leans in instead, his lips finding Craig's before his brain can even catch up.
He feels Craig's lips move against his for a split second before he's roughly pushed away. Craig is refusing to look at him now. It takes everything Clyde has to not flee like a coward.
"Why did you do that?"
Clyde stares down at Craig's bedspread, a dark blue littered with white stars. He starts counting them in his head.
He's up to ten when Craig's hand lands on his shoulder, and he's forced to look up.
"I can't do this, Clyde. I don't know what you want from me, and I don't think you do either," Craig says, and Clyde is sure his heart and stomach have switched places.
He starts to reply but Craig holds up a hand to stop him.
"I'm going on a date with Tweek tonight. I didn't expect you to know that, but you should know now," he says, and Clyde starts to feel sick to his stomach.
He immediately feels irrational anger boiling in his gut, but he manages to stifle it. "I'm sorry," he says, his head down to avoid meeting Craig's gaze. He doesn't want to see how Craig must be looking at him now.
He stands before Craig can say anything else and hurries toward the stairs, ignoring Craig when he tries to call out for him. He doesn't know what the hell he was thinking. Of course Craig would move on eventually. He would be an idiot not to.
Clyde is mortified when he feels the burning start of tears pooling in his eyes and pulls his outerwear back on with record speed, bolting through the front door and back out into the cold. He only lets a quiet sob escape once he's back in his own house, his back pressed against the front door. He can hear his dad shuffling around in the kitchen still as he bounds up the stairs, hurrying to get to his room before his dad can see and start asking questions.
He's lying face down in bed an hour later wondering how his life would be if he weren't such a coward when a quiet knock sounds on his door. The door clicks open without a reply, and his dad walks in.
"What happened, son? You only did half the driveway."
Clyde shrugs as best he can. "I wasn't feeling well," he says and cringes at how raspy his voice sounds.
He feels the bed dip next to him but keeps his face pressed into the pillow. It's only when he feels his dad's hand rubbing his back that he turns his head, his dad's worried gaze the first thing he sees.
"What's wrong? You haven't been yourself lately."
Clyde doesn't say anything for a while, not entirely sure what to say.
"Is it girl troubles?"
Clyde wants to roll his eyes but refrains. His dad always thinks it's about a girl every time he's upset about something. If only he knew the truth.
"I guess you could say that," Clyde responds after a moment.
His dad sighs and pats his back once before withdrawing his hand. "What is the problem exactly?"
Clyde sits up, turning to press his back against the headboard. "I'm in love with this person, but I already messed everything up and now they're dating someone else, and I'm angry about it, but I know I have no right to be."
His dad is giving him an odd look once he finishes but places a hand on his shoulder, a soft smile taking the place of the look from before. "If this person has already moved on, then it's best if you do the same. Especially if you've already messed things up like you said."
Clyde's shoulders droop, and he nods, his gaze fixed on the floor.
"If you are meant to be with this person, it will happen in due time. There's no use trying to force these things," he says and brushes Clyde's hair back.
Clyde nods and manages a small smile for his benefit. He waits for his dad to leave before scooting to the window, looking out past the Tucker house this time as he starts wondering about the future.