Pretty Lady's point of view:
Craig has been getting rather inventive with his talent lately. My big, idiot brute of a roommate. He was learning so slowly but things would pick up soon. I could see it in his art.
Once he had discovered that Tweek was crushing on him, the transition began. Where he'd been very literal and realistic before, he was becoming obscure and interpretive now. He was more about the underlying meaning of his creations and I think that was because Tweek had kept his hidden for so long. How it had remained hidden, nobody had any idea. It was hard to blame Craig, though, when he was clearly so very excited about this "epiphany" or so he called it.
Nature was his interest currently and he liked to paint trees with leaves the color of Tweek's hair. He drew hands that could only be Tweek's pushing up through dirt, as small as the sprigs of grass surrounding them and embellished with drops of dew. Little birds in nests uncharacteristically soft turned out to be resting on Tweek's blonde mop of unruly locks. One night he'd presented us with a portrayal of Tweek stuck inside of a pill capsule.
"When Tweek called, he left this with me." Clyde held up Craig's sketchbook which was reaching the last of its blank pages. On it was a detailed depiction of Clyde getting attacked by a flock of crows and yellow canaries. The canaries had Tweek's hair and the crows had quiffs. "If you look closely, there's blood on their beaks. I think it's time that he see a doctor," my boyfriend—as equally retarded as his best friend—said.
I sighed and took the book from him. "It's supposed to be open to interpretation." Flipping through it, I saw new versions of Tweek and nature combined into the same body as though he were some kind of fairy or nymph. "Maybe he's just hurt by how discouraging you've been and wanted to let you know."
"Totally," Clyde scoffed. "Because he was the most inspirational best friend when I first tried hooking up with you."
"Yeah. Hooking up, asshole." I shoved his shoulder and it bounced off the back of the couch. "You straight up said to Craig: 'She's convenient, dude.' All you wanted to do was have sex with me."
He rolled his eyes and swooshed his hand around. "It's not my fault we got a roommate with nice tits. I didn't think stuff like that actually happened." Stuff like holding out and just being roommates for a time before anything happened.
"Craigslist can do that," I mused, grinning because I had nice tits.
It made no sense when he frowned at me. At least until he grumbled, "Speaking of Craig."
My body deflated and I fell back against Token's legs which were pulled up onto the couch. We made eye contact as my head lolled to the side. I made a noise of exasperation because Clyde was being the moodiest brat. He was upset that his best friend's attention had been drawn away from him, but Token was Craig's best friend too, and it wasn't like he was complaining.
"You need to let this go," I told him. "Craig is so excited about this, Clyde. He's interpreting it as something completely different, but he's infatuated." There wasn't a single molecule that existed inside of Craig that believed he had affectionate feelings for Tweek. That introverted man might've known that the blonde had intense feelings for him, but he was hopeless when it came to himself. He thought he found it funny when all he really thought was Yeah, I like you too. Another epiphany would be needed for that, though.
That phone of his—it was certainly a baby maker if there ever was one. Had Tweek been a woman, that is. Neither of them could stop talking to each other and Craig was always psyched to give the blonde a call. Tweek's work and school schedule had been memorized and Craig had made it a point to let us know that even when the blonde was busy, Tweek would still try to figure out a way to keep their call going. Doing that certainly hadn't impaired Craig's ego, and I almost felt bad because Tweek was unknowingly egging on his conceited crush.
Clyde mumbled something incoherent beneath his breath about all of the faggots in the world. I'd had a talk with him about saying that in front of Tweek to which he'd then thought up every other possible derogatory name he could. Ones like fruit cup, marshmallow, gay fuck, and his most creative name to date: butthole that eats dick. He disliked the blonde so much, had felt like such even before he and Craig had become a thing. I didn't quite understand why he treated Tweek the way he did, and it wasn't based on being from South Park, because Kenny hailed from the same town and yet that blonde was at least tolerable. Clyde's attitude made me sad.
With my eyes, I pleaded silently for Token to send in reinforcements. He blinked once, considering the backlash Clyde would inevitably give. If ever he was opposed, he threw a temper tantrum like no other. After pursing his lips, Token sighed resignedly and opened his mouth to speak. "What?" The brunette snapped, eyes darting threateningly between Token and I. "You both love Tweek. I fucking get it. Stop conspiring against me."
"I do love, Tweek. I love Tweek for Craig," Token said. Yes, my thoughts purred. Justice. "There's practically no chance that Craig will ever get hurt because Tweek isn't capable of doing that to him." Clyde indignantly turned his head away from his best friend's words, but Token continued anyways. "Craig got a real late start with the whole relationship thing while the rest of us already experienced that. We've been through terrible girlfriends and know what to expect. Craig doesn't have a clue. You know that, Clyde. So let him have the one that won't ruin him because I'd really rather not see him with one that will."
Backlash for everyone except his best friends, it would seem, because Clyde said nothing. He clenched his jaw and nestled his cheek against a pillow, just staring at the dark television screen while we listened to Craig laugh about something from inside his room. I'd noticed that he was laughing, not a sardonic chuckle or snicker when Clyde accidentally stubbed his toe, but actually expelled genuine laughter a lot more than usual. "Clyde," I murmured. His eyes shifted. "How long have you known?" I was referring to Tweek's crush.
He looked away. "Everyone has always known," was the only thing he said.
We all heard Craig's door open and gave each other quick glances before looking over our shoulders to stare at the mouth of the hallway. When Craig appeared, he saw our trained eyes and stopped to stare back at us. He had his phone against his ear and said, "I'm being watched." Tweek must not have liked the sound of that. "I mean by my friends, not the government."
Token and Clyde grew disinterested—they must've heard that one before—while I continued to watch. Craig wandered over to the fridge and pulled out a soda before turning around and walking over to the couch. He stepped onto it despite Clyde's protests and sat down.
"Can you repeat everything you just said?" He asked, pressing a button on his phone and setting it down in front of him. Using his free hands, he opened his soda.
"I said the government can't—Sweet Jesus, I can't believe you're making me say this again—what if they're listening?" Tweek cried, most likely unaware that he was on speaker phone. "They've got it out for us! Haven't you ever read 1984? George Orwell? I'm all about government conspiracies, dude."
Craig grinned when my brows rose curiously. Leaning toward Token, I whispered so as not to alert Tweek of our eavesdropping and asked, "The government?"
"It's—" He began.
"Classic Tweek Tweak," Craig finished, able to simultaneously speak to both the blonde and me.
Hushedly, Token agreed. "That explains it."
The blonde on the other line made a noise of outrage. "Classic Tweek Tweak?" He cried.
In what must've been a small fit of excitement—for he lifted his finger as if to say "Listen to this"—Craig completely ignored him and said instead, "Guess what."
For a second the blonde was silent. Craig had been so offhand that I don't think he was sure how to react. Then he asked, "What?"
The expression on Craig's face was smug. Whatever was going to come out of his mouth had a very determined purpose. "I was looking in the mirror today and I realized that I am just one ugly dude."
Tweek responded quickly. "No, you're not." It sounded as though he'd hissed immediately after, regretting his hasty remark, which was probably wise because Craig had an insatiable grin.
"You don't think I have an ugly mug?"
This time the blonde's answer came more hesitantly. "No, I...I wouldn't say that you do."
"That's good." Craig was pleased. "Neither do you. I'm actually quite fascinated by you."
A smirk wound through his lips as he listened to Tweek sputter in response. "I—that—uh...really?" It was apparent just how flattered he was by his fragile, airy tone of voice.
"Do you believe me?" Craig asked, placing his phone on his knee as he sat back comfortably, arms bent behind his head. He wasn't wearing a shirt and I was half tempted to take a picture and send it to Tweek just to fluster him further.
To redeem himself, Tweek pulled quite a risky tactic and disregarded Craig's question. "Maybe." The niorette couldn't be bothered with evasions. He was straight-forward and precise. So when all Tweek said was "I heard that you like to draw me," I found myself surprised that he wasn't prodded at for a more satisfactory answer.
"Yeah, there's a lot." It was a difficult task for Craig to dredge of any kind of shame.
"Don't lie," Tweek laughed.
After taking a sip of soda, Craig said, "I'm being dead serious."
"Oh." The blonde wasn't taking the confession very seriously, though. He wanted to be sarcastic instead. "Are there any naughty ones?"
He would soon regret making such a joke because Craig's answer was, "Just a few."
Tweek's abrupt silence made the atmosphere thick was amusement. The only one who wasn't feeling any entertainment was Clyde who grimaced and glared at the phone. Token's enjoyment was enough to make up for my boyfriend's foul mood, though. Maybe I should break up with one and just switch to the other.
"So what are you doing?" The blonde hurriedly asked, switching subjects for reasons that were obvious.
"Was that a diversion?" This poor kid was never going to get a break.
"No!" Except it was. "I-I'm actually very curious. About what you're doing. Yeah."
"I'm talking to some gay kid," Craig blatantly replied, staring up at the ceiling. He inhaled deeply, torso jutting out. A stretch was coming, and the wide berth of his ribcage expanded as he arched with the instinct. His biceps flexed, tightening involuntarily. It was interesting to look at these aspects of Craig and know that Tweek thought of them as pleasant.
Even when we first met, I'd never been interested although it'd been clear to me that Craig was an astoundingly attractive man. His beauty was the vicious kind, coupled with his blunt personality. The two were compatible with each other and created an ominous appeal. He was constantly assumed to be the type of guy who only accepted the invitation of those who were self-assured. Sometimes it happened when we went out and more often than that it happened at parties, but he would attract the attention of women who were detrimental to boys.
Craig was no regular boy, though—didn't know how to succumb to the hurt a girl like that could put him through—but the fact remained that the only people who thought they could present themselves to him were stupid girls. He might've been all striking eyes and pretty lips, but there was a very inverted charm beneath those features. One that no one could see because they didn't think it existed. Craig would beckon less petty people if he softened the intensity of what was already there, not that he'd be interested in them either. I think it took a lot of inspection to find, and one would need to search for a while before happening across it. These delicate aspects of him, they were disarming once noticeable.
It was his laughter when he shared an inside joke with his best friends and the glassy, fragile look in his eyes when he spent time with the dogs. It was his content expression every time he returned from visiting Stripe and the deep sarcasm covering up all of that sweet brother stuff in his voice whenever his sister called. And now there was Tweek: the boy who Craig would get slightly unfocused smiles for. In moments like those, I could tell how great his feelings were. But then his lips would turn up egotistically, and he would never realize his feelings if he remained as conceited as he tended to be.
I'd always known that he was in an impossible league far beyond that of normalcy. Just by looking at him I could tell that he was disconnected from intimacy, and not once had he ever looked at anyone in anything that was remotely even close to interested. Clyde and Token never pushed it and I had learned to never question it. I guessed that was what patience was, though. Because of course Tweek would come along and make Craig question it himself.
"Wow," Tweek muttered. "You can be so charismatic sometimes. So dreamy."
Craig cracked up laughing because Tweek had been telling the truth. To the blonde, he was literally the dreamiest man alive.
Oh, their interactions made me the happiest girl.
The sound of a muffled yawn quieted Craig's laughter down. "Are you tried?" He asked, sniggering still.
"Just a little."
"Are you laying in bed?" His sardonic smirk proved that Craig was going somewhere with this.
"No," the blonde snorted. "I'm sitting in the pots and pans cabinet."
"That's actually believable if you think about it—"
Tweek interjected, snapping, "Of course I'm in bed."
"What are you wearing?" Craig quirked his brows at us. Clyde rolled his head and grumbled, sinking further into the couch. I reached out and punched him in the thigh for being uncooperative.
"Nothing!" The blonde cursed himself and added, "Not nothing nothing—just nothing important, y-you know?"
Actually, Craig didn't know. I often walked into his room to wake him up for work and found him passed out naked in his bed, sometimes on his stomach and sometimes on his back. His butt had the most adorable dimples, and his dick was quite remarkable. Tweek was going to be a very satisfied young man one day.
Craig bent down to lean over his phone. "I sleep commando."
In my head, I could see Tweek's mouth working but no words escaping. It took him a second, one clear pause that had me biting down on a giggle. All of us were still incognito and I didn't want to be the one to ruin it. "I can't tell if you're joking or not," he finally managed to force out.
His denial was adorable and Craig thought so, too. "I can assure you that I'm not," he promised.
"W-Well that's nice," Tweek squeaked.
There was one of those unfocused smiles on Craig's lips. After a moment, he recalled, "You never told me what you were wearing."
"Clothes, Craig. I'm w-wearing clothes."