When Kenny had left Craig's later that evening, after ignoring the heaviness between them, strumming slow tunes and crooning deep lyrics, he had wandered home in a daze, barely registering the biting chill on the wind that promised snow. Between his parent's bickering loudly he had snatched a beer out of the fridge and retreated to his room, popped his earphones in to drown out the escalation of his life, and drank. When the beer barely touched his nerves, he reached under his bed and grabbed the hidden whiskey bottle, put the glass to his chapped lips, and guzzled.
He had always been comfortable with Craig, they grew up together, they both shared a strange bond with the abnormal, they were band mates and partners, despite the treacherous voice Craig harbored to sing, he was a musical genius with instruments and rhythm. Their separate groups of friends had their clashes in the past, but they always seemed to bond closer over the fact. Kenny had never found any guy, let alone tall, gangly, awkward Craig attractive. No, Kenny was the guy you went to for a cheap thrill when you were a young boy of the nineties with dial up connection and no access to porn; Kenny, he could hook you up with an edition or two old Penthouse or Playboy. He was the "boob man", the boy that always had a girlfriend in a school yard crush, the boy that was just that side of the tracks that made the girls go wild.
And yet, now he felt dizzy in the presence of freckled, scarred, devious Craig.
"God, it wasn't supposed to go this far," he mumbled to himself from numb lips, world spinning despite how tight he shut his eyes. Spinning 'round and round, much like how he felt at the barest brush of lips with the Tucker boy. He rolled over and stared at the bright smile of his sister in the pristine frame on the side table, and cursed, seeing her in his mind's eye, hands overdramatically on her cocked hip, brows furrowed, over exaggerated frown creasing her round cheeks. He could hear her, voicing her displeasure at his actions.
"I can't believe my big brother would sell his dignity, and for what? A chance at a free ride to fame with some rich friend's connections? Success is never free, Kenny. I'm so disappointed."
"Don't be," he said to himself, tears pricking the back of his eyes. He was so proud of his little sister for going so far in her short little life, even thinking for an instant she may be disappointed...that hurt him worse than death itself. That he couldn't be someone she could look up to like she did when she was little.
He could see her slight upturned smile, the shine of her braces, the cocked eye brow, the best of her attitude on display. "What would you expect, faking it with someone? One of you was bound to fall into the comfort of routine."
"God, is that what this is?" he said with a harsh laugh, sucking his lipring into his mouth, chewing on it out of nervous habit. By the careful way Craig moved, averted those meadow green eyes, cheeks a soft palette of pinks, clearly the Tucker boy had fallen prey to fleeting emotion. The smirk after a brief hallway kiss for their "fans", the sweaty, entwined palms, how easily Craig smiled while they strummed tunes. And that nervous smash of mouths, those long, freckled fingers shaking as Craig held the worn edge of his hood and kissed him.
But what Kenny hadn't been counting on was the feeling of his heart stop on contact, the rush of blood to his head that took in the sweet smell of Craig tainted only by the acrid edge of nicotine on his clothes. It was new, exciting, and scared him to death to think that bored routine was becoming something else. That, maybe, he liked Craig
" So, what're you going to do about it, Ken?"
...
Two in the morning, the only light in the earthy room was the blue emitting from the computer screen the Mole typed furiously on, hands sliding expertly over the keys, grey eyes scanning the document he was preparing through thick-rimmed glasses. Like the creature he was named for, he preferred the nocturnal hours of the early morning compared to the putridity of daylight and what society considered to be normal. It's when he did his best work, like the draft of the new piping grid the town had called on him to create, with his expertise in knowing every square inch below the town's feet.
He felt rather than heard the presence of another in his room as the chilled wind seeped in through the window for just a moment before it clicked shut softly. He rubbed his eyes, hands pausing just above the keyboard as he waited patiently.
"I have a problem," came the voice, just slightly askew.
Christophe turned in his chair and looked the figure over briefly that stood in the corner, hands shoved deep in his hoodie pockets, hood draw up around his face, face half in shadow. When his family had moved into the bigger house, he had requested the room with the rose terrace under the window just for this reason. He felt pity for the boy born into unfortunate circumstance, felt draw to the boy that shared the experience of death with him. So when the McCormick's struggled to pay utilities in the dead of winter, Christophe had allowed the boy to sleep in his room and always found him gone before sunrise. He was one of the few kids of the town that didn't bother Christophe to be in his room.
"And what's zat, Kenneth?" he asked, being reminded of when Christophe had broken into Kenny's room to question him.
"I may or may not be attracted to Craig. Hint...I am," he said with an odd grin to his voice.
"I zought we already had zis discussion," he said softly, watching the blonde carefully.
"That was then, this is now. Then, I faked it to keep my contact for fame happy. Now, well, shit, faking it turned into something else. I kissed a boy, and I liked it. Or well. Craig kissed me, and I didn't say no."
"So, zen, you 'ave not kissed 'im? Zen, 'ow do you know you'd like et, Kenny?"
That caused the blonde to stop for a moment and step out of the shadows and flop dramatically on the Mole's bed. "Oh, fuck, you're right."
Christophe folded his fingers over his lips in thought. "But, clearly, you 'ave a problem, because you are vairy drunk, and I know you do not drink in excess."
"My problem is I'm suddenly gay for Craig, Chris. Me, boob-man Kenny, has a sick little crush on Craig. What kind of fucked up shit is this? Fate is being cruel, dude." He sat up and shook his head, blonde hair flying. "I'm not gay. I'm not. I've never had a gay little bone in my body. Like, I can't even imagine comfortably touching another dude's junk. Weird's me out, Chris, seriously, this is morally ambiguous and a problem of conscious here. So tell me how, tell me why my head gets dizzy and spins when Craig is awkwardly close. Tell me why he kisses me and I lose my step and fumble. Tell me why I feel like this."
Christophe looked his friend over, Kenny of the huge personality, Kenny of the hidden emotional depths he barely let show beneath the charisma and charming wall he built to protect what, apparently, was a very fragile heart. He was clearly distraught with a realization he hadn't quite come to a conclusion yet about. The Mole sighed. "I can't tell you why, Kenneth. But, maybe I can guide you to zat answer. What does our lovely Craig make you feel?"
"Disgust at myself for even thinking these things," Kenny spat before looking up into the deadly calm gaze of the Mole, and sobered. Staring down at his lap, he fiddled with idle strings from his ripped jeans. "Like I can actually do something with my music and make Karen proud, like I'm actually someone worth being."
"I've told you ze same sing, and yet, you are not 'aving an issue of conscious about me, so, zat must not be et."
"Well, you haven't kissed me either," Kenny scoffed, rolling his eyes.
"Well, zat ez easily fixable," Christophe said with a shrug as he got up and walked to the bed, finding it hard to hide the grin at Kenny's deer-in-a-headlights expression. "You want to know ef you're gay, or ef et's just Craig? Well, 'ere's your chance, before I change my mind about zis."
Fumbling Kenny sat up on his knees and looked down at the bed, anywhere but the looming figure in front of him, and almost seemed like he was going to back out of it before he rolled his eyes and made the move, closing the few inches between them. He barely tasted the nicotine lingering on the Mole's lips before pulling back, having felt absolutely nothing more than he would kissing a dog. Albeit, a dangerous, deadly dog.
"And?" Chris asked, amused, arms folding over his chest, head cocked, shit-eating grin barely faltered.
And then the realization hit Kenny as he flopped back into the overly plush bed sheets and threw his arms over his eyes, hiding from the world, ears burning at what it meant. "Shit, I do have a fucking crush on Craig."
"Zought so," Chris said, bemused, as he returned to his perch on his office chair and stared at the slumped form on his bed. "Ze problem ez, you are already in a fake relationship wiz 'im." Words mimicking the sweet, haughty voice of his sister Christophe asked, "So what are you going to do about zat, Kenny?"
...
The falling snow couldn't damper the growing fire between them. The week dragged on, with stealthy glances and pink cheeks, avoidance at every opportunity. Craig felt like a solder iron had burned him deep on top of the gaping chasm in his chest related to his loss of Tweek, now his own stupid actions seem to have pushed Kenny away. He should have known better, the McCormick boy was only in it for as a favor, of course he would withdraw when Craig made an advance away from prying eyes.
"Jesus, I'm an idiot," he mumbled to himself as he walked to history class, hands deep in his pockets, head down. There had been no thinking, just the feeling of drowning deep in Kenny's voice as he crooned, echoing lyrics off the walls of his basement; there had been no thinking, just need when he nervously kissed the blonde singer. It was as if his body was acting against his head's wishes, something he just couldn't stop, but now he regretted as the singer dodged him at every opportunity.
He barely paid attention as the teacher droned on about the Enlightenment, instead his eyes flickering ahead to the figure by the window, hood drawn up around his face, making a feeble effort to hide his furious texting under the desk. The way the blonde's nose crinkled in thought, how he sucked in his lip jewelry as if deep in thought about the conversation stung. Craig could only imagine what Kenny was talking about and with who, and all possibilities turned his stomach. It was strange how much he felt, thinking he was losing this good friend, above all else. They had been friends for years, between their separate musical talents, their penchant for nicotine slivering through their lungs, their own hidden depths and discomfort with people. Kenny was the first and only person he had told about Tweek, slobbering drunk down by Stark's Pond, howling his self-loathing about being in so deep with a boy, cursing himself for causing Tweek's own self harm. It was strange how much it hurt to think he was going to lose this connection with someone else as overlooked as himself.
Sliding his phone from his pocket he clicked on Kenny's contact, sucking in a breath at the sharp pang that cut through him looking at his contact image, a candid portrait of the blonde laughing, a mic in hand, spotlights bringing out the blue of his eyes. "we need to talk i think," he sent, shoving his phone back into his hoodie pocket.
He saw the moment the blonde looked at his phone and noticed the message, the way his shoulders tensed and his thumbs hung over the screen in ponderance. When Craig's phone buzzed in the depths of his pocket, he felt his heart beat heavy as he looked down at the brief message. "after the ball game ok"
Typical Friday's consisted of either a show at Tweak's Coffee Shoppe, or a bonfire, except on game day. And not only was it game day, it was the last football game of the season, since the snow had come early this year. And with the last game, usually came an after party full of shenanigans at the local Beef of Brady's, with karaoke and covers. It also involved most of the school making fools of themselves and having a blast, just to loosen up and have fun before the impending doom of looming midterms.
"see you there ken," he texted back as the bell rang. He stayed in place as everyone clamored to escape and get ready for the big game, kept his head down to avoid the sight of his friend escaping quickly. With a sigh he pulled himself up, grabbed his bag off the floor and slung it over a shoulder as he headed out.
"Hey Craig?" he heard a voice that stopped him. There was Tweek, face full of concern, waiting at the doorway, shoulder against the frame.
"Hey, Tweek," he said slowly, shoving shaking hands in his pockets. "Something up?"
"With you, maybe," the blonde said pointedly, a scowl on his face. "You're being remarkedly distant. Something wrong? And don't tell me 'nothing', I know you a bit better than that."
Pulling up his walls he looked away, knowing how well the blonde could read his face. "Would it really matter? What's it to you?"
Tweek balked for a moment, and Craig wanted to hit himself at the look of pain that crossed his best friend's face. Damnit. "Just because we aren't...well...we aren't what we were, doesn't mean I stopped caring, Craig. You should know that better than anyone."
"I know, and I'm sorry," he said, taking a deep breath and letting it out, shoulders sagging all the while. "I'm sorry for a lot of things lately. Don't worry about me, Tweek, I just have a lot of things to sort out. Thanks, though, really, it means a lot to know you're still looking out for me. See you at the game, Spazz."
The snow was constant, falling as a thin veil over the barren town as the sun sank low before 4'o'clock, sinking slowly behind the towering mountains, street lights flicking on early to pool globes of luminescence on the growing sheen of white. The first snow of the season always excited people, breathing a fresh air into romance and people's lives, until the snow just refused to stop and shoveling the streets became a chore. He watched kids building crumbling snowmen with delight, reminding him of his own carefree childhood.
"Bet none of you are gay for your friends though," he mumbled to himself as he drove his old truck slowly through the streets, a headache blossoming between his brows at every inch he neared the high school. He wasn't sure exactly how the conversation he was dreading was going to happen, but he knew he had to have it. Because something had to give, even his bandmates were suffering because of the tension between himself and the blonde singer.
"Don't be so miserable, Craig," came the sing-song voice to his right, and he cursed himself for forgetting Tracie was bumming a ride to the game from him. Her green eyes flaring, copper hair in delicate curls around his face, she huffed. "It's going to be a fun night."
"Says the girl excited about bendy straws," he said with a snort, rolling his eyes as he received a middle finger in response.
Craig pulled into the packed parking lot of campus and circled until he found an empty spot, already hating himself for coming, but Clyde was his friend and this was his thing, so of course he was going to come out and support him. He barely put the truck in park before Tracie was unbuckled and out of the truck.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, slow it down, Trace," he said with a sigh as she bounced on her heels, cheeks turning pink to the cold. Reaching into his wallet he pulled out a twenty dollar bill. "Get something to eat and something warm to drink so you don't freeze. Text me when the game is over, and be careful, it's slippery out here."
She threw her arms around her brother and left gloss marks on his cheek as she smiled. Stepping back she reached up and adjusted her brother's crooked lapringer and smoothed his thick jacket down. "You know what's crazy?"
"Hmm?" he asked as he tied her scarf into a messy knot at her throat, brow raised curiously.
"You dote on me. You apparently love me in some sick twisted way, and yet, you have a real hard time loving yourself. Give it a try, Craig. You don't give yourself enough credit. You've got something going for you."
"And what's that?" he asked carefully as he shoved his keys and phone in his pocket.
A smile. "You're the best big brother there is. Now come on!" she said as she grabbed his arm and lead the way up to the football field and flashed their student IDs for access. She gave him another quick kiss on the cheek before bounding off for a group of freshmen girls, ignoring the giggles and dreamy-eyed looks sent his way from his sister's friends.
Craig made his way up to his usual spot sitting beside Token and Nikkole, Christophe and Tweek to the other side, Kyle, Cartman, and Butters a row up. Tweek threw him a smile and handed him a cup of hot chocolate, Christophe gave a nod without words. As he sat down, warmth soaking into his palms from the Styrofoam cup, he shuddered, and it had nothing to do with the cold.
"Yeah, I know how you feel," came a voice behind him that made him turn and his heart stop, Kenny perched behind him on the bleachers, hood pulled up loosely, bangs catching soft snowflakes. "Last time I visited Karen, those girls were all over me from a distance. It was insane. And full of jailbait. Very unnerving."
"Those rich Christian private school girls had never seen a gutter urchin like yourself, of course they stared," Cartman said with a snicker, receiving a half-hearted middle finger in return.
"Sure it wasn't my rugged bad-boy charm?" Kenny fired back, but Craig could see the slight furrowing of his brows, the slight tension as the dig cut deep.
"Of course not, that just made them want to dump holy water on you," Eric responded as he dug his fat paws into a bag of caramel popcorn.
"I dunno, it seemed to work on me," Craig heard come out of his mouth. Kenny's shocked look, jaw slack was the only reaction he saw before he turned back to the front and cursed under his breath.
"Gayyyyyy, you are so gayyy," Cartmen whined between handfuls of popcorn.
Before the bickering could continue the cheerleaders filed out in a long-sleeve number, white tights protecting against the cold, furry-topped boots laced up calves. Wendy's black hair shimmered as she lead the troop with Bebe backing her every move. Soon after the two teams strolled out and the game started.
The snow seemed to let up just enough, but the players still slipped around the frozen field fiercely. Craig sipped his hot cocoa and stayed facing ahead, even as Bebe took a seat between him and Christophe, a glimmering smile on her face as she seemed to have her eyes on everything. It was unnerving the way she looked at him for just a moment and seemed to know exactly what was going on in his brain.
He rarely turned around except during pauses when Kyle passed him an earbud to listen to a new rhythm he had come up with, a new sound a new lymric. And every time he noticed that Kenny had disappeared just as easily as he had come. At quarter time down, Craig got up, pulling a cigarette from his back pocket and wandered own and behind the bleachers, passed the concession stand, out toward the dugouts of the baseball field, leaving the noise and lights behind. Striking flint, he inhaled deep and let out a breath of smoke to the falling sky.
He smoked in the silence he created, and was putting out the nub and tossing it in the trash when he noticed the familiar orange parka sprawled on top of the dugout, cigarette between serene lips that barely moved when he asked, "That comment you made, was that truth?"
Craig shrugged, amazed at how deep in his thoughts he had been to miss his friend within mere feet on him. The forgotten, and unmissed. "I don't know. I still haven't really figured it out myself."
"Me, neither."
Craig raised a brow at that. "What?"
Kenny sat up and pulled his hood over his face, shadows hiding whatever was written there. "Nothing. I'm not ready for this conversation yet, and I don't think you are, either."
The raven-haired boy felt the adrenaline that flamed through him, raising his temperature, making sweat pop under his jacket between his shoulder blades. "Is there ever really a good time for it?"
"Probably not," Kenny answered as he slid gracefully off the dugout roof to his feet like a cat and zipped his jacket up in the front. He looked up, blue eyes twinkling unsteadily under his blonde bangs. "I've got bigger fish to fry at the moment, though. I need a clear head, which is just so goddamn hard around you. Shit, Craig."
Craig stood stock still, face letting nothing show as the blonde ran a hand through his hair. He could barely breath on the inside, but on the outside he knew he was calm and collected.
"There is one thing I need to do though, that I need you for," Kenny offered, glancing up under impossibly long lashes.
"Hmm?"
"This," the blonde said a moment before closing the distance between them in one long stride, wound his fingers up under the brim on Craig's hat in one motion, and pressed their lips together in the other. Craig felt his face turn beat red as the blonde released his hair and leaned his forehead against Craig's.
"Well, this further complicates things," the blonde offered a moment before he pulled away with a curse, turned, and strode back toward the stadium, leaving Craig standing alone with a hand over his mouth and his heart leaping in his chest.
"What the...fuck," he cursed, lips still tingling at the contact, head spinning impossibly, feeling unusually warm as the snow continued falling around him. With the way the blonde had been so careful to avoid him all week, the last thing he expected was that. Now, he was just as confused as before, unsure of his next movement.
"Son of a bitch," he mumbled to himself as he shook his head, hating this dizzying spell McCormick seemed to put him under. When he was so sure the only right thing to do was end the fecade he had placed Kenny into, now...now he wasn't sure it was so false, for either of them.
Shaking his head, he followed the same route of his orange-hooded counterpart, following the delicate steps trudging through the fallen snow. He barely noticed the faces of his friends turn toward him as he slid back into his seat, barely noticed the edition of a sweating, grinning Clyde, barely noticed his ex-lover's hand laced with the leather-gloved hands of Christophe, barely noticed the concern in those hazel eyes.
Until he leaned around the foreign boy and ask, "Are you okay, Craig? You look a little flushed."
He could feel his ears burning against the question, but instead he just shrugged. "I'm fine." He glanced up, and saw Tweek pass Christohpe a concerned look before taking a long sip of the thermos at his side. The Mole, a brow cocked defiantly, met his glance with a half-turned smile that seemed to say I know what you were doing.
Before his mood could turn sour, the intercom buzzed and cracked. "Ladies and gentlefolks, this halftime entertainment will be performed by the lovely South Park ladies with a special guest as a reminder that tonight after thee game will be a good time at Beef's!"
The music started slow, familiar to it seemed all the girls whom let out a roar as the beginning notes of "Wildest Dreams" rang over the intercom. The cheerleaders stood in the middle of the field in a line, heads down, waiting, it seemed, for the guest star.
"He said let's get out of this town, drive out of the city, away from this town. I thought, heaven can't help me now, nothing last forever, but this is gonna take me down!" came a familiar voice, male in nature that crooned the high notes perfectly.
"Oh my god, that's Kenny," he heard Kyle say with a devilish grin on his face as it seemed everyone was looking around for the boy singing Taylor's new hit song.
"He's so tall, and handsome as Hell, he's so bad but he does it so we-ll; I can see the end as it begins, my one condition is," the voice sang impossibly high, hitting every note without so much as a crack of voice.
It was then someone noticed the figure standing at the top of the bleachers and everyone turned as a chorus of hoots and hollers rang out, as there stood Kenny, a long blonde wig styled to Taylor Swift perfection, a stylish black rockabilly dress hitting him at just the knees, lips painted signature red, a mic in hand. "Say you'll remember me standing in a nice dress, staring at the sunset, babe. Red lips and rosy cheeks, say you'll see me again even if it's just in your wildest dreams!"
"Princess Kenny is back," Cartman snorted as their blonde friend swept down the bleachers in his beat up Converse. "You woulda thought he grew out of that gay shit."
Down below, he joined the cheerleaders that had paired off to follow suit of him and Bebe, whom at this point had wrapped her hands in his wig, playing the role of the guy. "I said, 'no one has to know what we do', his hands are in my hair, his clothes are in my room. And his voice is a familiar sound, nothing last forever, but this is getting good now," he sang as he gently pushed Bebe away and all of the 'girls' in the role stalked around their played male counterparts.
Craig watched the dance like the others, but he felt entranced by Kenny's vocals, and it didn't help that those made-up blue eyes caught his on more than one occasion. And it made him laugh to himself to think that shy, introverted Kenny that had been minutes before hanging out on a dugout, staring at the falling snow by himself, was shaking his ass in makeup and a dress for the whole school to see. Comfortable in his vocals, comfortable making others smile and laugh, but so uncomfortable in his own skin, with his own emotions.
Kind of like me, Craig thought to himself. Lost in his thoughts he barely noticed his friends part as the boy in the dress perched a row below Craig and stared up at him with a shit eating smile, until Clyde nudged him so hard he barely kept himself from falling forward.
"Say you'll remember me standing in a nice dress, starting at the sunset babe," rolled off Kenny's tongue, lipring stark against the satin red of his lipstick. "Red lips and rosy cheeks, say you'll see me again even if it's just in your wildest dreams, ohhhh, in your wildest dreams."
The air crackled at the final notes before everyone, including the opposing team, rose to their feet in applause, hooting and hollering. Clyde, the big oaf that he was, wrapped his arms around Kenny's middle and lifted him high, laughing, into the air, wig coming dislodged and falling, his blonde hair a mess underneath. He looked in his element, face lit up from the inside as everyone cheered.
"Well, what to y'all think of my new digs?" Kenny asked as he did a little spin, still glowing.
"Bebe looks better in 'er dress, you're missing a little up top," Christophe mused, receiving a joking punch to the shoulder from the blonde nestled to his side.
"Such a debby downer, Chris," Kenny huffed dramatically as a shiver wracked through his body, raising gooseflesh on his tattooed arms. Flicking a glance toward the silent Craig he said, "Well, I'm freezing my gnads off and I could use help with the zipper. Wanna come?"
He ignored the looks sent his way as he got up and followed the McCormick boy down the stairs, ignored the whispers that followed as his eyes trailed the boy.
"I didn't know you had this," he said as they ducked behind the bleachers and headed toward the bathroom, running his fingers along the image of a small adorned upside down cross on Kenny's neck with intricately tattered devil wings dripping down his shoulder blades. His heart jumped at the quick intake of breath from Kenny at the contact.
"You didn't really think the Grim Reaper was my only ink, did you?" Kenny asked with a cocked brow as he jiggled a key and ducked into the girls bathroom.
"Guess I never really thought about it," Craig said with a shrug.
"If it weren't for the eyelets I coulda got this on and off by myself. I don't get how girls do it," Kenny said as he turned toward Craig. The Tucker boy knew the pains of girlish clothing, as he had been helping tie, lace, buckle, and snap his sister's dresses from the time they were small. With ease he undid the two eyelet snaps at the top and unzipped the back of the dress before averting his eyes, much to Kenny's dismay.
"Man, being boyfriends and all, I thought you'd appreciate the show," Kenny said lightly as he ducked into a stall and pulled the dress over his head and threw back on his ripped jeans and a black Maroon 5 t-shirt. He fluffed his hair to perfection and stepped out.
"Yeah, about that," Craig started, lips turned downward, green eyes staring at the cracked tiles of the floor. "Come on," he said as he ran his hands through his hair nervously, pulling at the raven locks as he held the door open for the singer and they started back.
"What about it?" he blonde asked as he pulled a cigarette from his pocket and lit up, the small flame warming his finger tips. Craig stopped, noticing the lack of jacket on the boy and pulled his off, draping it over Kenny's shoulders without a thought. "You don't have to do that, mine is just up in the bleachers and I'm use to the cold."
"Yeah, I know, and yeah, I do, because being perpetually cold sucks and I don't want you to be," Craig said fiercely, eyes flashing for a moment before he pulled his phone out as it buzzed and looked down at the smiling face of his sister beckoning through text.
Can I go to Janie's after the game? i don't want to go to the party and i don't want to go home and be alone please Craig pretty please?
U dont have anything for a sleepover in the truck, he sent back quickly as he glared patiently at Kenny, whom - with a huff - pulled his arms through the grey coat's arms and zipped it up with rolled eyes. But in truth, the blonde was thankful for his friend, and in truth, was drowning in the dizzying scent of Craig wrapped gingerly around him.
"So what did you want to talk about?" the blonde asked as he took a drag of smoke and handed it to his friend, whom took it with a deep breath and exhaled toward the dark sky.
"I'm an asshole for bringing you into this," Craig finally said, and Kenny noticed the stony set of his jaw, the way his nails dug into his palms. "For making you fake being someone you aren't. I know you aren't into dudes. So, I'm sorry for that."
"Thanks for realizing that, I guess," Kenny said, swallowing hard around a lump that grew in his throat as he realized where this was going. "But don't forget, I never did say 'no'."
Janie's mom will take me home to get stuff come on Craig please? i'll owe you forever! his screen lit up as he did everything to avoid looking at the boy in front of him.
"Yeah, I know, but I mean, ever since...ever since I kissed you, you've been off. Different. Avoidant. And I can't blame you for that, but in the same regard, I don't want to lose you as a friend, either." He typed back a simple sure and added but you better text me as soon as you get there so i know youre safe.
"Couldn't lose me if you tried, Tucker," Kenny said half-heartedly, not liking the way Craig's eyes darkened and he held himself, almost like a wounded animal on guard.
"Yeah, well, before it gets that far, I just want to stop this. This faking it bullshit. I don't want you caught up in a fake relationship when you could be in a happy, real one."
"Again, I don't remember telling you 'no' ever. And have you really been faking it?" he asked, balling his fist into the pockets of Craig's jacket.
"No!" Craig answered, throwing his hands in the air as he paced tight circles. "At first, yeah, I guess, but that went out the window those first couple of staged kisses. So it needs to end before I get too deep in it, when there's still room to get out."
"So you're breaking up with me," he said rather than asked, knowing the answer already. "Because you're afraid of your feelings. Classic Craig."
"Because I'm afraid to impose my feelings on someone that could never respond to them," the raven-haired boy shot back. "Because I can't reasonably fake something that somehow became real."
"Never say never," Kenny mused to himself as he shook his head. "Well, this further complicates things."
Exhausted Craig glared. "And why do you keep saying that?"
A tired smile as Kenny shook his head and started the journey back to the bleachers, too tired to argue, a sudden burning in his chest making it hard to breath. "Don't worry about it now. See you later, Craig."
...
Warmth and laughter boomed behind the thin panes of restaurant glass that could barely contain the good time inside as the highschoolers took over the local Beef of Brady's. Lighting a low glow of orange lanterns, the ambiance was cozy as the kids sat around high top tables munching on wings and fries, celebrating the win with the football players. Looking around at the familiar faces of the kids he grew up with, Kenny smiled. There was Clyde, getting loud and rowdy with Bebe tucked under his arm, there was Kyle sitting up on the stage belting out some tune for karaoke night.
But he was just outside all of the fun, standing under the bright green awning, thread-worn hood pulled up and over his face, a cigarette bobbing between his lips as he watched the snow fall in quick, peaceful little flurries, unaffected by everything but the wind.
"Wouldn't that be nice, to be so unaffected and forgotten," he murmured to himself, closing hs eyes against a stray set of headlights.
He felt warmth from the door opening, heard the jingle of the bells over the door, and smelt the nicotine to his side before the accented voice filled his ears.
"Why are you 'ere, alone, sulking?"
He took a deep inhale of his smoke before letting it fall to the ground and sizzle out in a pile of snow at his feet. "Craig broke up with me, didn't want to impose himself on such a straight guy as myself."
"And, of course, you are so chicken sheet compliant, you let 'im walk away, didn't you?" Chris asked, but the guilty forlorn look was enough of an answer. "Stop being so selfless, and act, for once in your life. Ef you don't, you will always wonder what ef, when instead, you could find out as much by doing somezing about et."
"You only care because you won't have competition to worry about," Kenny scoffed, and Christophe smiled wickedly as he shrugged.
"While zat ez a bonus zat 'as crossed my mind, you need to learn 'ow to be 'appy, and ze first part of zat ez talking to Craig, not folding your cards like you 'ave. Zink about et, Kenneth," Christophe said, placing a hand on the blonde's shoulder before wandering back inside. He turned and watched the concerned look plastered on Tweek's face, that seemed to melt with a mere touch, the barest hint of lips. Man, that would be nice to have, he thought to himself as his eyes travelled to the brooding Tucker boy a table back with Clyde, arms crossed over the table. Did he really want that melty, gooey feeling with that asshole? A boy, something he was never interested in in the first place, and least of all a stubborn, headstrong one such as Craig. But maybe his ruthlessness was part of the charm.
"Damnit," Kenny hissed as he pushed open the double doors and strode up to the stage, much to the delight of the crowd that hooted and hollered, a soft chorus of "Kenny, Kenny, Kenny!" going up around the establishment. He sucked in a breath and let it out, the nerves escaping as he looked out over the faces of old he had grown up with.
"Hey, guys," he started awkwardly. "Thanks for the riot at the game, I'm glad you liked our performance, and special thanks to Bebe whom helped coordinate it. Bebe, you rock, soulsister!" he said and reveled in the bubbling laugh that escaped her pretty red lips, much more glamorous than Kenny's had been. "But let's take it down a notch. Let's get real for a moment. A good friend essentially told me I'm a giant pushover, a little bitch if you will. And you know what? Chris is a huge asshole sometimes, but he's right. I am. I'm compliant. I give in and give up way too easy. When a challenge arises, I'd rather surrender than fight. It's a good quality in some, but damnit, that's not who I want to be.
"I'm terrible with emotions, I mean dudes, aren't we all?" He received a couple hoots and claps in response that made the anxiety he was feeling less, like he could actually breath as he looked out over these kids he knew and loved. "I get up and hope to pass my classes, I use my vocals to express myself when times get hard and things get tough. I have a song for every occasion in my head, there's not a moment a lyric isn't floating through this dense and dumb brain of mine.
"Which is why I have to do this, because I'm a fucking mess when it comes to communication. Not too long ago, you may remember how Craig and I were outted as a couple. Well folks, jokes on you, that was fake." Whispers travelled the packed room at the revelation. He caught the questioning grey eyes of Christophe and continued to pace the stage, ignoring the boring green gaze glued to him. "You see, Craig was actually with someone else, and things escalated so he wanted to make them jealous, and I was a good candidate. I mean, who can really ignore my rugged charm?
"The problem that rose, is sometimes when you fake something long enough, you forget you're faking it. You forget what you were before. On all accounts, I'm a healthy straight guy with a normal sexual function that loves to see some boobs. And then this asshole barges in like the Kool-aid man and turns that upside down and makes me feel things. Things I didn't know I was capable of feeling for another bro."
He took a breath and closed his eyes as ice slid through his veins as he voiced what he had been trying to deny all week since Craig had kissed him in the basement. But it was at the game, when Kenny had taken the plunge and kissed him and electricity set him on fire, taking his breath away, he knew he was in too deep, he knew what he didn't want to happen had happened.
"I kissed a boy tonight, and I liked it. I wasn't expecting to, I actually really hoped I wouldn't, that I'd be way grossed out, but that's not what happened. So Craig, I know you technically broke up with me, and I'm such a self-loathing jerk that I let you, but this is how it really is."
He walked to the back of the stage and scrolled through the music choices, settling with a quick nod, feeling like he was drowning at what he was about to do, his breath hard to catch, heart beating a mile a minute. He had never been nervous in front of people, always been in his element on the stage bouncing around and belting out lyrics, but this time was different, this time was personal, and he hoped to whatever God still cared that this wasn't a huge mistake.
Electronic synthesizers slid through the packed room that had become remarkably hushed during Kenny's speech, awaiting eyes watching to see what was going to happen. Taking a deep breath he turned to the crowd, mic in hand, shaking.
"Woke up sweating from a dream, with a different kind of feeling. All day long, my heart was beating, searching for the meaning," he crooned, forcing the shake out of his voice as he took a beat on the beat up wooden stool perched on stage, legs feeling weak at what he was doing. "Hazel eyes, I was so color blind, we were just wasting time. For my whole life, we never crossed the line, only friends in my mind, but now I realized."
He glanced to the petrified face in the back that seemed to be melting to the floor, mouth hanging open, green eyes wide in terror. "It was always you, can't believe I could not see it all this time, all this time. It was always you, now I know why my heart wasn't satisfied, satisfied. It was always you, no more guessing who, looking back now I know it was always you, always you."
It was Bebe whom started the slow clap to the beat, her red lipped smile bright as the others at her table, and around her joined in. Within seconds it seemed like they all were clapping in time to the rhythm of his voice. "All my hidden desires finally came alive, no I never told a lie to you so why would I start tonight?"
Kenny barely registered the lyrics of one of his favorite songs that tumbled from his lips, just focused on not having a heart attack as he sang to the boy sinking in his seat in the back with the red face, bringing the dusting of freckles out against the blood pooling in his cheeks. He barely noticed as the last line fell from his numb lips, "It was always you."
The crowd went wild as they looked between the flustered boy in the back and the blonde on stage, that for the first time looked awkward in place in the spotlight, shifting his weight back and forth on the balls of his feet, unsure what to do at that point.
It was Clyde that spoke first, punching Craig in the shoulder with a toothy grin. "Well Tucker? What do you have to say about that, huh?!"
"Fuck you all," he said queasily, holding two signature middle fingers up to the world as he shakingly rose to his feet and stumbled out the front door into the cold. Kenny's smile barely faltered, while it felt like his insides were being replaced by baked potatoes, again; instead, he set the mic back in the stand and trailed after the boy, legs like jelly as he bolted through the door and called after him.
"Tucker, damnit, Tucker...wait!"
It was surprising how much distance the raven-haired boy had put between himself and the restaurant, having nearly cleared the block and was turning around the bend to where the parking lot was located. He'd never noticed how tall the fucker was until he had to play catch up.
"Craig, goddamnit, please," he begged as he turned the bend, head down, not seeing the stockstill figure standing there that he ran straight into.
"Ouhff," was the sound Craig made as Kenny ran into him, putting a foot forward to keep them counterbalanced and upright. "Watch where you're going."
"Well you weren't really slowing down there, Craig," Kenny spat, pushing away from the boy, head filled with the musky scent that lingered on his skin from faceplanting into his back.
"You really think I'd leave you alone?" Craig said, a hint of something in his voice...disbelief? Sadness? Anger? Kenny wasn't sure, but it made him take a step back and truly look at his friend. "What the fuck was that, Kenny? Why didn't you just tell me at the game?"
"You were real damn sure of quitting me, Craig, you didn't leave a lot of room for talk," he said, rolling his eyes, trying to ignore the deep set throb in his chest.
"God, you're so frustrating," Craig said, exasperated.
Kenny laughed, seeing through the charade. "You're just embarrassed, which is hilarious, considering they had already thought we were a thing. Now, it somehow has depth and realness to it, and you pull away. Classic Craig."
"Don't, Kenny," he warned, voice low with threat.
"Why not?" Kenny asked haughtily, his own anger lighting the surface. "You said you weren't faking it - well, motherfucker, I haven't been, either. Why is that hard for you to accept?"
Grinding his teeth, Craig shoved his hands in his pockets to keep from lashing out. "You have no idea what you're getting into, being with another guy. Being with me. It's not all sunshine and butterflies and bikinis, McCormick."
"So teach me," the blonde goaded, blue eyes fierce as he stared down Craig. "You're so smart and all that jazz, so teach me what it's like."
"And when you don't like what it entails and quit? That sure sounds like it's going to suck for me," Craig said slowly, taking a step back, putting distance between them and the idea. He didn't know if he was ready to be hurt again.
"So I'm not worth the risk, is that it, Tucker? Funny, I was worth it when it was convenient for you, but now that I'm emotionally vested, you don't want a part of it."
"This isn't fair, McCormick."
"Yeah?" he laughed, a barking sound as he stepped close, not letting Craig escape, and shoved a finger into his chest. "Try being me. And then talk about how unfair the Fates are, Tucker."
"Damnit, Kenny," Craig breathed as he tried to take a step back, but the blonde wasn't having any of that - he grabbed Craig by the wrists, grip like a vice.
"You're not running from-"
He couldn't finish his sentence as Craig leaned down the few inches it took to swallow his words, the sweet taste of Dr. Pepper passing between them. Kenny felt electricity run along his spine as Craig's tongue ran along his lips and teeth pulled gingerly at the ring in his lip. He groaned, allowing just enough space for Craig to shove his tongue, melding together at the mouths. Craig pulled back with a shuddering breath, green eyes spring pools that stared down at the fairhaired boy that had slackened his grip and let his hands fall away from his wrists.
"I told you, I wouldn't leave you alone."
"Shit, Craig," Kenny said catching his breath, lips tingling from the contact.
"You sure you want to do this?" Craig asked, eyes searching the flushed face of Kenny.
He reached out, long fingers entwining with the freckled ones of Craig, having made the decision hours ago. With a crooked smile that softened the terror in his blue eyes Kenny said, "Didn't I make that clear when I sang and it was always you?"
A/N: Well shit, that escalated quickly. I've never been a fan of Crenny, and then, bam, these two wrote themselves. The first song is "Wildest Dreams" by Taylor Swift. The second that Kenny sings is "It was Always You" by Maroon 5. Well, all I can say is things get juicy in the next installment of Clear Skies! xoxox Corrie