Work Text:
The South Park Elementary swing set was not in working order. Rust was climbing up it's metal columns on every side, and a piercing shriek was elicited any time Craig shifted even the slightest bit. He scanned the otherwise empty playground, and realized that the other equipment was in about the same condition. So fucking typical.
Craig would've preferred to have gone home right after the bell rang, but Tweek had choir practice and they walked home together on every afternoon that he didn't have appointments with his therapist. Craig checked his watch impatiently, his boredom becoming more excruciating with each passing second. It was already 4:30, and rehearsals were supposed to end at 4:15.
Scrolling through his Instagram feed for the third time in the last five minutes, Craig noted how lame his peers were. Stan Marsh had posted yet another picture of his dog, this time wearing sunglasses. What an idiot, Craig thought. Guinea pigs were clearly the superior pet.
The door to the chorus room opened suddenly, releasing a hoard of elementary schoolers. The kids came bounding out in a rush of chattering and laughter, and Craig's head shot up immediately, searching for Tweek's striking mess of blonde hair in the crowd.
"Craig!" Tweek called excitedly, rushing toward him heedless of the mulch beneath his feet stabbing into the bottoms of his sneakers.
"Hey, honey." Craig said fondly, stepping out of the swing and meeting Tweek at the playground's halfway point.
"I got a solo in that song I was telling you about!" Tweek said, clutching at Craig's jacket with one hand.
Craig's eyes lit up, and he enveloped his boyfriend in a warm hug.
"I'm proud of you." Craig said, and he was speaking in his Tweek Voice.
It was an established fact among their friend group that Craig spoke to Tweek differently than he did to anyone else. When he spoke to his boyfriend his voice was kind, and happy, and very, very soft. They transferred in one fluid motion from the hug to holding both of each other's hands in between them.
"Thanks Craig." Tweek said, his cheeks turning a light pink.
"Whose house do you want to go to?" Craig asked as they began walking toward the exit gate.
Their neighborhood was only a short distance from the school, so both boys were comfortable walking even in the cold of Mid October. Tweek thought for a moment, sticking his tongue inside his cheek.
"Yours." He decided. "I want to see Stripe."
Craig smiled. He loved taking care of his favorite animal with the most important person in his life. Tweek was quiet as they walked, gnawing absentmindedly at his bottom lip.
"Don't hurt yourself." Craig reminded him gently. "You might make it bleed."
Tweek smiled gratefully, closing his mouth and giving Craig's hand a light squeeze. As they passed Tom's Rhinoplasty, everyone's least favorite foursome stumbled out of the bar next door.
"I told you they wouldn't give us whiskey, dumbass!" Kyle Broflovski was saying, clenching his fists at other side. Stan Marsh nodded loyally.
"Yeah, dude." He agreed. "It's illegal."
"Fuck you guys." Cartman grumbled as they crossed the street. Craig rolled his eyes.
"They're such idiots." He muttered, and Tweek laughed.
"I know. Cartman was being an asshole in art class today."
Craig raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued.
"Yeah? What was he saying?"
Tweek looked suddenly embarrassed, letting go of Craig's hand to cross his arms in a defensive stance.
"Oh...nothing. Just the same shit about us. You know, our relationship and stuff."
Craig narrowed his eyes, annoyed. Why did everyone in this stupid town think his relationship was any of their business?
"What do you mean? What was he saying?"
Tweek sighed, seeming to regret bringing it up in the first place.
"Just the usual stuff. That you're only with me because I'm the only other gay kid in town. And that you're just gonna leave when I get to annoying. I would've punched him in the face if the teacher wasn't right there."
Craig felt his jaw clench. God, he hated when people said shit like that! They didn't know a single thing about his feelings for Tweek.
"Craig?" Tweek asked, noticing the change in his expression. "I know it's not true, you know. I know you care about me."
"That doesn't give assholes the right to harass you. I wish they'd get it through their heads that I like you." He paused, considering his next works carefully. "A lot."
Tweek smiled, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder.
"I don't think there's any way to convince people of that. You just can't let them get to you."
Craig groaned, frustrated. His eyes rested on a nearby tree. An idea struck him suddenly, and he gasped. They had already reached his bus stop, meaning they were on the outskirts of their neighborhood.
"Stay here." He ordered. "I'll be right back."
He rushed to his house, leaving Tweek stammering in confusion. Every step he took caused his backpack to bounce uncomfortably on his back, and he willed himself not trip over any stray twigs on the sidewalk. As he reached his front door he swung it open haphazardly, letting it slam shut behind him. From the living room, he heard his mother call his name.
"I'm just getting something!" He called back, making his way to the kitchen.
He opened the utensil drawer and pulled out a knife, not noticing his sister sitting at the kitchen table.
"What are you doing?" She asked suspiciously, ready to run to their mother and tell on him.
"None of your business!" He retorted, flipping her off as he tore out of the kitchen. She screamed something back that he didn't quite catch.
He stepped onto the front porch unzipping his backpack, and shoved the knife into the closest pocket. After making sure it couldn't stab him from behind the fabric, he raced back to the bus stop. As he reapproached his boyfriend, Tweek looked annoyed.
"Craig Tucker, what the hell do you think you're doing?" He asked, glaring. Craig raised his pointer finger, signaling for him to wait. He took off the backpack and knelt down, reaching inside for the knife.
"Jesus Christ!" Tweek exclaimed, stumbling as he backed away. "You're gonna kill someone?!"
Craig stifled a laugh, stepping toward him.
"Babe, no!" He assured him. "I'm not gonna kill anyone."
"Then what are you going to do?"
Craig didn't answer, instead walking silently over to the closest oak tree. Hesitantly, Tweek followed behind.
Craig folded himself into a criss cross applesauce position at the base of the tree, unbothered by the snow he was sitting in. With an unpracticed hand, he began carving into the tree. Tweek relaxed noticeably, realizing he wasn't actually dating a future serial killer. Craig was finished after a few minutes, gesturing toward his handwork proudly and turning to gauge Tweek's reaction.
"See?" He asked. "Its permanent. I wouldn't do this if I didn't really like you, huh?"
Tweek burst into laughter, covering his mouth with one hand.
"Oh my god, Craig!" He said, doubled over now. "You carved our initials into a tree? That's so gay!"
Craig pouted, grabbing onto a branch in order to lift himself off the ground.
"I thought you would like it." He said, trying not to whine.
Tweek stopped laughing, cocking his head to the side and smiling sympathetically.
"Aww." He said, moving in to grab Craig's hand. "I love it."
"You laughed at me!"
"Face it, dude. It's pretty lame." Tweek said, starting to laugh again.
Craig smiled sheepishly, staring at the ground. Tweek leaned in and kissed his cheek, causing a faint blush to spread across his face and on the tips of his ears.
"Let's go play with Stripe." Craig suggested, his smile widening nervously.
"Only if you put that fucking knife away."