If you started here, go back a chapter for update 1 of 2!
"Please tell me you guys got matching ties," Ruby asks. She's sat on the edge of Craig's bed, watching as he keeps fiddling with his tie and his shirt sleeves. Craig never got the hang of dressing up. If he had a choice, he would wear t-shirts and sweats every day forever.
"You know it," he says, giving up on the tie after the tenth retie. He turns to face his sister, his arms held out. "What do you think?"
Ruby gives him a big thumbs up and takes a quick picture on her phone before he can cover his face.
Craig wasn't exactly nervous for the dance. He didn't have an actual date, although the giant poster board Jimmy and Tweek had used to ask him to go stag with them had found a permanent place fixed to his bedroom wall, so he didn't have to worry about impressing anyone. And yet his nerves have been off the chart all night and have only been getting worse the more time passes.
He's come to terms with the fact that his unnamed feelings for? about? Clyde won't get any better until they talk everything out. They'd grown a step closer in Thanksgiving, but that was nearing on three weeks ago, and for every step forward, there seems to be three steps back. Nothing to do now except what he's best at: ignore and avoid.
"Clyde's going, isn't he?" Ruby asks, at least having the sense to look sheepish when Craig glares at her. His theory that Ruby is somehow psychic has only been gaining more traction these days.
Ruby stands from the bed and pats Craig on the arm.
"I believe in you, Craig," she says, then leaves before Craig can ask what she means. Mystic Ruby and her never-ending wisdom.
Craig glances around the room one last time before deciding he has nothing else he can use to procrastinate. His mom will inevitably want pictures of him in his suit. He just hopes she doesn't expect him to pose.
He takes his time on the stairs, and just as he suspected, his mom is sat on the couch, disposable camera in hand. Her smile looks strained as she takes the first picture, but she says nothing as she takes another and another.
She follows him to the porch to take a couple more before setting the camera aside to mess with his hair. Craig lets her without protest.
"You clean up so well," she says as she brushes his hair back from his forehead, "if only I could get you to dress up more often."
"It's just not in my nature," Craig answers, overly aware of the tension in his mom's shoulders.
"Listen-"
A well timed and obnoxious car horn cuts her off before she can finish her thought, Jimmy leaning out the passenger side window.
"Gu-get in l-l-loser. We're g-guh-going d-dancing," Jimmy says then struggles for almost too long pulling himself back in the car.
Craig sighs and shrugs, already backing toward the car.
"My chariot awaits."
His mom looks like she still has something to say, but she settles for a tight-lipped smile and a wave as Craig clambers into the backseat. He'll make it up to her later. Craig waves back, but Tweek's already pulling away from the curb. His car radio is blasting 'so bad it's good' eighties pop that he and Jimmy are doing an awkward car shuffle to. They're both dressed in suits, Jimmy's crutches decorated with the stickers Craig gave him for the occasion. They look as awesome as Craig insisted they would, glittery stars and planets stuck with no semblance of a pattern and matching perfectly with the galaxy ties they had all decided on the week before.
Jimmy turns in his seat to aim a lopsided grin at Craig. "R-ready to b-b-boogie?" he asks.
"You know it," Craig says as deadpan as possible, his fingers worrying at the too-tight knot in his tie and the mess that is his hair. He misses his hat though he knows he shouldn't. Tweek and Jimmy will be with him. He has nothing to worry about.
Nothing besides having to watch Clyde and Bebe spend all night together, but no, he's not thinking about that. Not now.
"You okay?" Tweek asks, and Craig locks eyes with him in the rearview, a slight nod and a forced smile his only answer.
"L-lighten up, C-Craig," Jimmy says and twists in his seat to pass something back to Craig. "H-h-here."
Craig takes a small plastic case from Jimmy's hand, holding it close to the window so he can see what it is. "You guys got corsages? Losers," Craig says as he pins the flower to his jacket anyway.
"Technically it's called a boutonniere," Tweek says.
"Y-yeah. If you-you're gonna insult us, g-get it r-right," Jimmy adds, joining in Craig's laughter.
"Sorry," Craig says, sounding anything but.
They laugh and joke through the rest of the short drive to the high school, the jokes continuing on the walk through the parking lot and into the gym where they stop for throuple pictures spent laughing at the bewildered look on the photographer's face.
They make it to the dance floor only after Tweek and Jimmy assault the dj with an unreasonable number of song requests and manage to stay on the outskirts of the throng of students as they start their admittedly terrible dancing. Craig isn't ashamed to admit he has no rhythm, and Tweek and Jimmy aren't either by the looks of the moves they're pulling. Craig can't find it in himself to be embarrassed, happy to spend the night having fun for once.
"Hey Craig."
Craig pauses, his arms still awkwardly tangled around Jimmy. He pulls his arms free and passes Jimmy over to Tweek before turning to face the last person he expected to want to speak to him.
Bebe looks gorgeous as always, her hair pinned up loose and her red dress fitting her like a glove. Craig is sure if he had any inclination toward girls at all, he would have had a crush on her at some point.
"Can we talk?" she asks, and Craig shrugs, glancing back at Tweek and Jimmy. They both wave him off then go back to attempting a dance that looks like a cross between the running man and a series of fist pumps. Craig shakes his head at his pseudo dates before following Bebe around the edge of the crowd toward the empty tables.
Craig keeps his eyes peeled for Clyde but doesn't see him anywhere. He does spot Token and Wendy, easily the two best dancers in the entire gym. Wendy waves at them both, never breaking stride.
He sees Kyle too, milling around with Kenny and Eric and looking like he's about ready to stab the latter. Kenny gives him a wave then starts making crude gestures after pointing at Bebe. He responds to Craig's middle finger with a salute and a laugh. Nothing out of the ordinary with their group other than the inclusion of Stan's date. She's standing nearby, but no Stan in sight. Craig would be worried about that, but figures if Kyle isn't hunting him down, then he's probably not making an ass of himself.
Bebe stops once they're out of the way and out of earshot then moves in close so Craig can hear her over the music.
"Have you seen Clyde?" she asks.
Craig shakes his head. "He's your date," he says. He knows that's probably not what Bebe dragged him over here to ask, but he can be patient and wait for her to get to the point.
Bebe sighs, her eyebrows drawn and her arms folded. "Follow me," she says then turns on her heel and stalks toward the door of the gym. She doesn't look to make sure Craig is following, but she doesn't have to. Craig is curious and follows without question.
The door swings shut behind them, masking the sounds of the music and yells from their classmates. The hallways are dim and deserted. Craig's always thought the school was eerie when class wasn't in session, and how it looks now does nothing to change his mind.
Bebe picks a direction and starts walking, slowing so Craig can catch up.
"I wanted to apologize," Bebe says, her heels clicking a steady beat against the floor.
Craig hesitates, a frown working its way on his face. "For what?"
"For everything that's happened to you this year," she answers. She stops walking and leans against a random locker, bending over to pull her shoes off. "These heels are killing me."
"Why are you apologizing?" Craig asks. "You didn't do anything."
"I didn't exactly help things either," Bebe says. "Wendy always told me that watching the bullying happen and doing nothing is just as bad as being the bully yourself. I knew what Clyde said about you was wrong. I knew about his feelings for you, but I didn't say anything."
Craig sighs and leans against the lockers next to her.
"For that, I'm sorry," she says. "I just hope you can forgive me."
Craig looks at her a moment then nudges her with his shoulder, giving her a small smile. "There's nothing to forgive," he says then pushes himself up off the lockers, starting the walk back to the gym.
"I just want you to know that he really does like you, even though he's done a shit job of showing it," she says. Craig doesn't look back, but he can hear her bare feet padding on the linoleum behind him. "I tried talking to him about it once, but I couldn't really get anything out of him."
"I think this is something he'll explain only when he's ready," Craig says, commiserating with her inability to extract any answers from Clyde. He stops, holding his arm out for Bebe to take.
Bebe does and keeps pace with him as they continue wandering the halls.
"Thanks for taking the time to talk to me about this," Craig says. "It made me feel a lot better."
Bebe smiles up at him and opens her mouth to reply but promptly shuts it, both of them stopping in their tracks at the sounds of shouting coming from somewhere further down the hall. Craig looks to Bebe who inclines her head in the direction of the shouting.
They creep their way back toward the gym doors and stop before rounding the corner, the voices loud and clear now. Craig peeks around the wall anyway, finding a wobbly Stan standing with his back turned to them, something that looks suspiciously like a flask clutched in his hand. Kyle is facing him down, his hands clenched and his face beet red. Craig would find it funny if he didn't know for sure what that meant. Kyle's angry, and nobody likes him when he's angry.
"Just fuck off, would you?" Stan slurs and takes a long pull off his flask. He's barely staying on his feet as is. Craig isn't sure how much more he can drink without keeling over.
"No! I'm not going to fuck off, Stan," Kyle shouts and storms forward, his footfalls thundering in the quiet of the hall. Craig is impressed with how Stan holds his ground. Kyle isn't much to look at, but he is tall, and he frightens even the toughest when he's as angry as he looks now. "You always pull this shit! Wendy dumps you, and what do you do? You go straight for the fucking alcohol. Move the fuck on!"
"What I do about Wendy is none of your fucking business, dude," Stan answers, taking one more drink before whipping his empty flask down the hall. "Why should I care what you think anyway? You've never even had a fucking girlfriend last for longer than a week."
Craig looks at Bebe and finds her already looking back at him, her eyes just as wide as his feel.
"It is my business when you go around acting like a jackass everywhere you go. How about finding a more constructive way to deal with your problems! You're just like your fucking dad!"
It's no sooner the words are out of Kyle's mouth than Stan's on him, his fist colliding with Kyle's jaw. Kyle for his part manages to stay on his feet but looks ready to return the punch until Craig and Bebe get in the middle. Bebe manages to snag Kyle's arm and tugs him away and back into the gym, a string of expletives trailing behind them. The door swings shut with a heavy clank, leaving Craig to deal with a drunk Stan on his own. Joy.
Craig looks Stan up and down, noticing the disheveled appearance, bloodshot eyes, and a weird mix of anger and regret on his face.
"Dude, what the hell are you doing? If you're gonna get drunk at a school function, at least do it right. First rule of in school drinking: don't get sloppy," Craig says, hoping Stan will crack a smile. No such luck.
Stan moves to the lockers and slides to the floor, his face in his hands. "Oh fuck, I'm such a fuckup," he moans.
Craig sighs and joins him on the floor, patting his shoulder awkwardly and feeling a sense of deja vu from Token's party. "You're not a fuckup, dude. You just get in your head too much," Craig says.
Stan looks up at him with a glassy gaze. "What does that even mean?"
Craig winces at the whine in Stan's voice and shrugs. "All I know is you have got to quit the booze. That shit fucks you up too much, and it's not a good look," Craig says, a vivid mental image of Randy Marsh drunk and half-naked embedding itself in his mind before he can stop it. "And you should start listening to Kyle more. He's the smartest guy I know, and he cares about you."
Stan frowns at the mention of Kyle's name and drops his face in his hands again. "I can't believe I hit him. He's never gonna fucking forgive me."
Craig rolls his eyes and pats Stan's shoulder again. "Of course he will. He's your best friend."
"I wouldn't consider me a best friend if I were him," Stan replies, his tone sullen.
"You're doing it again, dude," Craig says and shoves Stan's shoulder. "You gotta stop beating yourself up. Kyle's forgiven you for worse."
As if on cue, the gym doors swing open again, and Kyle steps through, Bebe hovering a foot behind. Craig stands and gestures to Stan as he passes back into the gym.
"He's all yours," he says to a visibly calmed Kyle then turns back again. "Oh, and Stan?"
Stan looks up as Kyle takes Craig's vacated spot.
"Don't make me have to comfort you again, or I'll kick your ass."
With that, he follows Bebe back into the gym, hoping Stan's eau de booze isn't lingering on him. Bebe has her shoes back on, but her hair is a little looser, a couple tendrils resting on her shoulders.
"I don't think I've ever seen Kyle that angry before," she says. "I almost had to wrestle him back in here."
"If anyone could, it's you," Craig says then pauses in his tracks.
Clyde is standing only a few feet away, so close Craig wonders how he even missed him in the first place. Craig turns to say something to Bebe but finds an empty space where she used to be. He wants to be mad but knows that was her plan from the get-go.
"Hey," Clyde says, in front of Craig before Craig can even notice, and man does he really need to start paying attention to his surroundings.
"Hi," Craig greets, hoping his voice doesn't do anything embarrassing like crack or stutter.
"I, uh," Clyde says in an aborted attempt at a conversation. He looks away, his hand finding the back of his head.
He looks nice, Craig can't help thinking. His suit fits perfectly, his red tie the same shade as Bebe's dress, and his hair sitting on his head looking as if he had placed each strand in a meticulous display.
"I've been looking for you," Clyde says after a moment.
"Why?" Craig asks without thinking, and no, that wasn't what he meant to say. Why did he ask that?
Clyde doesn't say anything. He does step closer and holds out a hand. Craig doesn't react. He stares at the offered hand, his brain fried at the moment. Clyde shakes his hand around a little but doesn't drop it, a grin breaking across his face.
"Earth to Craig. Come in Spaceman Craig," he says and smiles harder when Craig manages to shake off his momentary stupor long enough to take Clyde's hand.
Clyde steps ever closer, his hands finding Craig's waist. The points of contact feel like fire lancing up Craig's sides. He hopes his face isn't as red as it feels. He feels the racing of his heart and the sweating in his palms and knows he will never understand how Clyde does the things he does to him while also managing to piss him off royally on even his best days.
"What are we doing?" Craig asks, his hands feeling shaky where they rest on Clyde's shoulders.
"Dancing," Clyde says, "I thought that was obvious."
Craig gives him a look in lieu of a real response.
"I should have asked you instead," Clyde whispers, leaning in close so Craig can hear. Craig tightens his grip on Clyde's suit jacket, holding him there so he can't back off again.
"I thought you were scared," Craig whispers back, his head angled so they can make eye contact.
"I don't have anything to be afraid of here," Clyde says. "I just want you to know that I still consider you my best friend, and I'm not gonna disappear on you again."
Craig doesn't want to believe it until he sees it, but he still smiles, a slight upturn of the lips, and nods.
"I still have things to work out, but I'm not gonna push you away while I work on it," he says. "I miss all our old friends anyway."
"You should come to Token's on New Year's, then," Craig responds. "We're getting the group together. No huge party. I'm sure they'd be happy to see you."
"Even Token?"
"I'll talk to him," Craig says then leans in to rest his head on Clyde's shoulder. The rational part of his brain is yelling at him to keep his distance, but the other part of his brain, the part that keeps thinking about how perfect they fit and how Clyde still makes his heart race in spite of everything, is drowning it out.
Clyde's head drops against Craig's shoulder then turns so his lips can plant themselves against his neck. Craig half expects Clyde to tell him he loves him again, and he isn't sure how he would react if it did happen now. They're in the middle of the gym surrounded by their classmates and the sounds of the Thompson Twins, and all Craig can think about is how Tweek and Jimmy definitely requested this song and when did he suddenly get thrust into a John Hughes movie?
If he's honest, he's also thinking about the smell of Clyde's cologne and how it reminds him of Token's party and how much he hopes he can still smell it on his own jacket later and how he really should ask Clyde what the hell that scent is and-
"Craig?"
"Yeah?" Craig answers but doesn't make any move to pull away even though his voice is muffled by Clyde's neck.
"You remember what I told you at Token's party?" he asks, his breath ghosting over Craig's neck. "I meant it, and I still do, you know."
He's quiet for a moment and stays close even as the song switches over to a faster-paced Billy Idol song that Craig is also almost positive Tweek and Jimmy are responsible for.
"I don't want to say it again until I'm sure I can give you what you deserve," he says then pulls away.
Craig is taller than Clyde but feels small standing before him now. He nods in response then snags Clyde's hands to pull him into a goofy dance to break the tension if nothing else. He smiles when Clyde breaks into laughter and smiles even harder when Tweek and Jimmy manage to find them, Token and Wendy trailing after them. Craig knows they had to have been watching from afar.
They dance in a large cluster of a group, none of them save for Token and Wendy possessing any semblance of rhythm but managing to have fun anyway.
Craig breaks away from the dance floor only once the dance has started winding down anyway and finds a spot at an empty table. Tweek and Jimmy are still at it, their attempts at dancing still the funniest thing Craig has ever seen.
"Hey!" Wendy calls after she has managed to disentangle herself from the clusterfuck that is their friends. She takes a seat next to him, sounding slightly winded.
Craig leans his chin in his hand, aiming a half smile at her. Token's on his way over too, his arms full of drinks that Craig's mildly impressed he doesn't spill even when Jimmy jostles him. He takes a seat on Wendy's other side and carefully sets the drinks down, passing one to Craig.
"Still battling things out with Clyde, huh?" he says, aiming a pointed look at Clyde across the floor where he's been trapped in a dance off with Tweek and Jimmy.
"I think we've called a truce for now," he says, sipping at his drink. "I invited him to our New Year's soiree."
He doesn't miss Token's eye roll and readies an argument, but Token shrugs instead, fiddling with the rim of his cup.
"The more, the merrier," he says, and Craig is eternally grateful that he's willing to try for his sake.
"You guys having a boy's night on New Year's?" Wendy asks.
"You're welcome to come too," Craig offers. "It can be a gender neutral night instead. We'll just have to change the banners."
Wendy laughs as Token kicks his shin under the table.
"What is with you and inviting people to my house?" Token asks, the smile on his face letting them both know he's kidding.
"I appreciate the offer, but I already have plans," Wendy says then turns to face Token in her seat. "Speaking of plans," she says in a low voice.
Craig sees the heat rise in Token's face even in the low light and downs the rest of his drink in a flash.
"Oh barf, I guess I'll be leaving you two alone," he says and stands. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."
The list of things he wouldn't do isn't very long, but it's the thought that counts.
He heads back to Jimmy and Tweek, who have finally released Clyde from their clutches and look tired enough to no longer have any dance moves left in them.
"Ready to go?" Tweek asks him, his hair and clothes a bigger mess than usual.
"Yeah, let's get out of here," Craig says, "you guys look like you're ready to crash."
"Sp-speak for yourself," Jimmy says in spite of looking like he's dead on his feet, "I could g-go all n-ni-night!"
Craig laughs and claps him on the shoulder. "Sure looks like it."
He follows Tweek and Jimmy out of the gym then, giving Token a thumbs up as he passes where he and Wendy are tangled together in semi-shadow.
It's only once they're nestled back in Tweek's car and back on the road that the events of the night catch up to him, but he finds he's too tired to sort through everything at the moment. He's sure Ruby will grill him for details tomorrow at any rate.
Tweek pulls up in front of Craig's house, twisting in his seat. "Tonight was a lot of fun," he says. "We should do this again sometime."
"Anytime, anyplace," Craig says as he steps out onto the curb. "Bye guys."
He waves them off as they take off down the road and turns to head inside, pausing at the sight of a familiar figure perched on the doorstep. Craig approaches slowly and drops onto the step close enough for their shoulders to brush.
"We still on for New Year's?" Craig asks.
Clyde smiles in the dim glow of the porch light and leans into Craig's shoulder. Craig can still smell his cologne. He should really ask about that.
"Is Token okay with that?"
"He said, and I quote, 'the more, the merrier,'" he answers.
"Then yes," Clyde says.
He doesn't say anything for a long while after, but Craig finds he doesn't mind. He feels relaxed, more relaxed than he has in a while. His brain is quiet for what feels like the first time.
"You know, I still wish I had asked you to the dance," Clyde says, his voice quiet.
"It's not too late, Donovan," Craig responds, and apparently that's all Clyde needed. He stands and holds a hand out to Craig for the second time that night, pulling him close. They dance close to no music except the far off sounds of traffic. It's too cold, but neither seems to mind.
"I wonder what your dad would have said if you had told him you were taking me," Craig wonders aloud. He doesn't miss the way Clyde's shoulders tense beneath his hands or the way their dancing comes to a complete halt.
Clyde pushes him back to arms length, his gaze flitting over to his own darkened house. Craig doesn't miss that either.
"It's pretty cold out," Clyde says, "we should head in now."
Craig wants to argue, wants to say anything to get him to stay and talk and open up to Craig finally. Instead, he nods and lets Clyde go. He stands where he is long after Clyde has already gone inside.
One step forward, three steps back, but he thinks he might have everything figured out this time.