Craig watches Clyde hurry back to his own house from his window. Clyde's reaction to the upcoming date plays on repeat in Craig's mind, the brief flash of anger in his eyes only serving to make Craig angry as well. What right does Clyde even have to be mad at him? He doesn't have a stake in this game. If he pulled his head out of his ass long enough then maybe... Craig doesn't know. He doesn't even want to finish that thought.

His stomach is knotted up, and his lips are still tingling where Clyde's had been only a few minutes ago. He starts to bring his hand up to his lips but stops himself. He's no anime schoolgirl, and this ain't some teen romance novel. Craig just hopes his date with Tweek will be enough to finally take his mind off everything.

His phone buzzes, a brief text from Tweek lighting up the screen. He wants to know if Craig is still up for tonight and if they can meet at seven. Craig answers on autopilot, his gaze still fixed on Clyde's house.

His mind shouts all sorts of things at him. He should go over there, storm in, and demand to know what Clyde's problem is. He should find out what exactly it is that Clyde wants from him, and why he can't seem to make up his mind one way or the other. He should ask him why it is that he can't seem to get Clyde off his mind ever since this whole thing started, why the feel of his lips haunts him for so long. He knows he won't do any of these things, he's too much of a coward, and he's not even sure he wants all the answers in the first place.

His phone buzzes again, his screen lighting up and finally startling him out of his thoughts. He glances down, his eyes drifting over the words.

From: tweekers

Great! I'll come pick you up at seven! You should dress nice!

Craig's about to reply when his phone buzzes again, a new message replacing the first.

From: tweekers

I mean you can wear whatever you want! I'm sure you'll look great no matter what! You always look pretty!

From: tweekers

Wait that's not what I meant! Don't read that last text!

Craig laughs at Tweek's rapid fire texting. The boy has problems. Very endearing problems. He decides to text back quickly before Tweek has a stroke.

To: tweekers

dude chill. i know what you meant. ill dress nice dont worry. thanks for calling me pretty btw

Craig smiles to himself, able to picture clearly in his mind the look that's most likely on Tweek's face right now. That adorable mix of panic and embarrassment that leaves his cheeks flushed and his eyes wide as saucers. Craig only wishes he could be there to see it. Instead, he puts his phone on its charger and grabs some clothes, heading for the shower to get ready for the night.

Craig wastes as much time as he possibly can taking a shower and picking an outfit but still manages to have nearly an hour left before Tweek is supposed to arrive. He looks in the mirror one more time, messing with his signature hat a little before taking it off.

His hair is a shaggy mess of jet black in dire need of a cut. His mom used to meticulously take care of his hair for him, keeping it perfectly cut and combed in spite of the hat he wore at all times. Eventually he got too old for his mom to brush his hair for him, but he was never very good at keeping up on it himself.

He's about to pull his hat back on but pauses, worrying at the fabric before setting it down on his desk. He leaves his room and carries himself down the hall to Ruby's room, knocking on the door before he can change his mind.

Ruby answers not even a second later, already dressed in her pajamas. "What's up?"

"I need some help with my hair," Craig says, fidgeting with his sleeves. He's having trouble getting used to the long sleeved button up he's wearing, wishing he could change back into his signature hoodie or sweater.

Ruby looks him up and down and gestures for him to come inside. "Don't you look fancy," she says in a way that isn't the least bit mocking. She pulls out her desk chair and gestures for him to sit. "You look good," she adds and grabs a comb.

Craig takes a seat and tries not to look in the mirror too much. He's never been self-conscious by any means, but something about staring at his reflection for too long unsettles him.

Ruby starts by running her fingers through his hair, making a noise when they get caught. "When's the last time you brushed your hair?"

Craig shrugs, wincing when she drags the comb through a tough knot. Ruby tuts at him but doesn't say anything else, focusing her attention on getting all the snarls out of his hair.

It isn't long before his hair is tangle free. Ruby is moving his bangs around with her fingers, trying to decide which way to let them fall. "You should let me cut your hair," she says, rolling her eyes at Craig's sputters.

"No way. Remember what happened last time I let you near my hair with scissors?"

"To be fair, I was six. I've gotten a lot better since then!"

Craig glances at the clock. Forty five minutes left. He sighs. "Fine, but if you make me look stupid, I'm reading your diary to everyone."

Ruby smiles and presses her hand over her heart. "I swear I won't make you look stupid," she says and hurries out of the room to grab her supplies.

She comes back a moment later with a towel which she wraps around Craig's shoulders, her scissors, and a spray bottle, which she then begins spraying over Craig's hair with no warning.

Craig fights back the shiver wanting to run through him and keeps his eyes firmly shut as Ruby starts cutting. He supposes if she fucks it up too badly, he can just wear his hat on the date. He doubts Tweek would care.

His nose is itching horribly by the time Ruby starts brushing off his face. "All done," she announces and pulls the towel off him.

Craig blinks his eyes open, squinting while they readjust to the light. His reflection stares back at him. His hair. It isn't bad, he's surprised to find. It looks good actually. A lot shorter and better styled than before.

"Wow," is all he says, running his fingers through his bangs. They're short, no longer able to hang in his eyes and just skimming the top of his eyebrows.

"Do you like it?" Ruby asks, already wheeling the vacuum into her room.

"Yeah," Craig says, pulling his eyes away from his reflection to look back at his sister. "Thanks, Ruby."

Ruby smiles at him and shoos him out of the chair. "Don't mention it, big brother."

She starts up the vacuum before Craig can say anything else. Craig just smiles and leaves the room, shutting the door behind him.

He finishes getting ready with just a minute to spare, settling himself on the couch to wait. He feels strange leaving the house without his hat but tries not to think about it too much. He wants this date to be special, and he knows it won't be if he ends up getting too hung up on old insecurities.

A light knock on the door gains his attention, and he stands, grabbing his coat off the hook as he pulls the door open.

Tweek is standing on the other side in a green button up, a tie pulled loosely around his neck. He managed to do up the buttons on his shirt correctly, Craig notices. His tie is tied sloppily, but he still manages to look nothing short of endearing.

Tweek is looking at him, a blush on his cheeks, and holds out a hand. "Your hair," he says, and Craig is suddenly overcome with anxiety, his hand darting up to mess with it before he can stop himself. "Your hair looks beautiful," he finishes, and Craig smiles, dropping his hand down to take Tweek's instead.

Tweek leads him to the car, his parents' old beat-up station wagon, and opens the door for him, shutting it for him too once he's settled. Craig watches Tweek cross the front of the car, the redness on his cheeks lighting up more under the glare of the headlights. Craig smiles to himself, glad for once that things seem to be going well.

Tweek gets in the car and buckles his seatbelt. He keeps fidgeting with his clothes and hair before he pulls away from the curb.

"Where are you taking me?" Craig asks once they've bypassed South Park's admittedly abysmal downtown.

"It's a surprise," Tweek answers and keeps driving straight through town.

Craig doesn't say anything else after that. He listens to the music on the radio, an old, slow song, and watches Tweek drive. He keeps his gaze locked on the road, his hands set perfectly on the steering wheel. Craig keeps looking down at his tie. He wants to fix it but knows it would be disastrous to try while Tweek is still driving. He'll just have to do it once they stop.

Craig gets so lost in thought that he almost doesn't notice when Tweek pulls up in front of a restaurant. He glances around at the surrounding area and realizes that Tweek has driven them all the way to North Park. He takes in the fancy decor and landscaping surrounding the restaurant and suddenly feels completely underdressed.

"Is this okay?" Tweek asks. He must have taken Craig's silence as a negative reaction.

Craig looks back at him and smiles. "It'll be the fanciest dinner I've ever eaten," he says and leans across the console. "Come here."

Tweek stares at him, wide-eyed, a bright blush overtaking his face. He sits frozen as Craig takes hold of his tie and loosens it.

"Let me fix this for you," Craig says, and Tweek releases a breath, relaxing slightly. Craig tries not to laugh as he sets to work retying the tie. He pulls the knot up to Tweek's throat and notices how he shivers when Craig's knuckles brush his neck. He looks Tweek in the eye. The blush is still there, but he maintains eye contact. Craig feels something building, something drawing him closer.

Instead, he pulls away and unbuckles his seatbelt. "All better," he says.

Tweek unbuckles his own belt, quietly thanking Craig before getting out of the car. The moment is thoroughly broken, but Craig still feels a racing in his chest and a bubbling in his stomach as Tweek crosses to his side and opens the door for him.

He stands there a moment, the lights from the restaurant shining behind and around him as he reaches for Craig's hand. His hair is lit up in an almost ethereal glow that makes Craig's breath catch in his throat. He helps Craig out of the car, leads him to the restaurant doors. He's a perfect gentleman the whole way, holding open doors, pulling out chairs. He even has a reservation. Craig is almost overwhelmed by it all.

He can't remember anyone ever doing anything so nice for him. He can't remember anyone ever trying so hard just for a date with him. Hell, he can't even remember any other time he's been taken on a proper date. Kenny didn't exactly count considering most of their "dates" consisted of them melded together anywhere they could find some privacy, his mouth on Kenny sprawled on the musty mattress in his room, Kenny's fingers in his hair tangled up in the back of Craig's truck. And Clyde... well, Clyde was Clyde.

Craig looks across the table at Tweek. His eyes are still locked on the menu. Craig looks him up and down, the messy hair he had tried and failed to tame, the slightly open collar of his shirt.

Craig wonders what it would be like to try and do any of the things he had done with Kenny with Tweek instead. He would probably taste like coffee. He already smells like it most days. He wonders what it would take to get Tweek to touch him, if he would shiver and shake like he does when he's nervous.

He starts to imagine what it would be like, Tweek's head between his knees. He's horrified when imaginary Tweek all too quickly turns into Clyde instead.

Craig squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head. He reaches up to tug his hat down and nearly panics when he remembers it isn't there.

"Craig?"

Craig freezes and slowly opens his eyes. Tweek's looking back at him, his gaze full of concern.

"Are you okay?" he asks, and Craig is suddenly flooded with guilt. Here is someone who's only ever been nice to him, who checked up on him when he was feeling down, who went out of his way to take him out on the nicest, maybe even the only, date he's ever been on, and Craig still has his mind on someone else.

Tweek reaches across the table and takes his hand, squeezing gently. "Do you want to leave? We can go somewhere else."

Craig looks at their joined hands then back at Tweek. He squeezes Tweek's hand and smiles. "No, this is great," he says and feels slightly better when Tweek seems to instantly relax. "Thank you," he adds because really he should be thanking him, if not for the date, then at least for being a good friend to him all these years.

Tweek gives a small smile in return then looks back at his menu, his hand still in Craig's as his eyes trail over the dinner specials. "Do you know what you're getting?"

Craig flips open his menu and balks at the prices of most of the entrees. "We're splitting the bill, right?" he asks, and Tweek laughs.

"I can pay."

Craig shakes his head immediately. "No way, dude. This shit is expensive, and technically I asked you out first. So if anyone's paying, it will be me," he argues then internally cringes as he remembers the very meager sum he has in his bank account.

Tweek seems to notice the look on his face and laughs. "We can split the bill, then," he says. "I think I'm gonna get the," he pauses and pulls the menu close to his face, squinting slightly, "boo-la-bays?"

Craig gives him a bemused look then picks up his own menu, trying to find what Tweek is talking about.

"I think I pronounced it wrong," Tweek murmurs, muttering the word under his breath a couple times and shaking his head each time.

Craig scans the list of nigh unpronounceable words before coming across the one Tweek must be butchering. Bouillabaisse. Huh, Craig isn't even sure how he would begin to pronounce that word. French is lost on him.

The waiter comes up to take their orders and looks none too pleased with Craig's purposeful butchering of filet mignon, but Tweek stifles a laugh behind his hand at his horrible faux French accent, so he counts it as a win.

In spite of their inability to pronounce the food items, they come out perfectly, and before Craig knows it, they've both finished their meals and paid their bills.

They're back in the Tweaks' station wagon, the heat turned up and soft music filtering through the speakers. Craig is feeling relaxed and full from the food. He watches the scenery fly past the window as they sit in comfortable silence.

He's more thankful for what Tweek has done for him tonight then he can rightfully express. He looks across the console at him. Tweek is too busy watching the road and doesn't notice when Craig slowly reaches over and places a hand on his arm.

He jumps slightly but spares Craig a small smile before turning forward again.

"Thank you," Craig says before withdrawing his hand. Tweek looks confused but doesn't comment. Instead he places his hand on the center console, palm up, and smiles when Craig takes it.

Tweek pulls up to the end of the driveway and turns the car off, unbuckling his belt and turning in his seat to face Craig. Craig does the same from his side, trying hard to stop his hands from fidgeting. He knows that on any other date, this would be the moment leading up to the big kiss. Tweek doesn't lean in though, he smiles at Craig and opens his door, climbing out of the car before Craig can say anything.

Craig watches him cross the front of the car, unable to decide whether or not he's disappointed. Tweek opens Craig's door for him again and takes his hand to help him up before Craig can think about it too much. He says nothing as they walk up the driveway to Craig's front door, hands still clasped.

"I had a lot of fun tonight," Tweek says once they've come to a stop on the front stoop.

Craig squeezes his hand then drops it, a genuine smile spreading across his face. "I did too. Thanks for dinner," he says. "Thanks for everything, I mean. It was all great."

Craig fidgets with his coat sleeves, wishing more than he has the whole night that he had his hat on right now. He's feeling decidedly awkward, and he's not sure why.

Tweek doesn't look like he's faring much better. He keeps shuffling from one foot to the other with a look on his face like he has something to say but doesn't know how to say it.

"Well, uh, good night!" he says and Craig frowns slightly, reaching behind himself to grasp the doorknob.

"Good night," Craig says in return and turns to go inside.

"Craig wait!"

Craig turns back, hand still poised on the doorknob, and finds Tweek standing a hairsbreadth away. His hand finds Craig's arm as he steps even closer, his eyes slipping shut.

Their lips meet and Craig expects fireworks, butterflies, something that will say to him yes, yes, this right here, this is love. Instead he feels nothing. No floating, no knots in his stomach, no short circuiting in his brain. All he feels is a gentle hand on his arm and a sinking in his stomach.

He pulls away and takes a small step backward, his eyes meeting Tweek's as his slowly open. He has an unreadable look on his face that Craig isn't quite sure what to make of.

Tweek is quiet for a minute, fidgeting with the sleeves of his coat. He turns his gaze downward before he finally speaks.

"I didn't feel anything," he says, and he looks nervous, almost as if he's scared of hurting Craig's feelings, but all Craig does is laugh, startling Tweek into looking up at him.

"I didn't either," Craig says, and Tweek laughs with him.

They both stand there in the harsh glow of the porch light laughing hysterically over their failed date before Tweek finally sobers up and clears his throat, a small smile still on his face.

"I still had a lot of fun. We should do this again sometime. As just friends, I mean!" he says.

Craig nods in agreement. "I'd like that."

He doesn't protest when Tweek leans in for a brief hug, his lips pressing to Craig's cheek before he pulls away one last time. He waves as he heads back to his car, and Craig smiles and waves in return even as his heart begins to feel heavy.