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Craig hates his orthodontist immensely. Apparently having an overbite, spacing, and crooked bottom teeth means you must get metal brackets and wires glued to your mouth no matter how many times you tell your parents you absolutely do not want them. The aching and scratches on the inside of his cheek is not even the worst aspect of this horrid situation; it’s the fact that flashing a smile makes him look like a total and complete boner. This is so embarrassing.
The miserable teenager stomps to his homeroom at school with his jaw clamped shut. He’s managed to avoid most of the people who have had an interest in addressing him in the past up to this point, but he fears that he’ll have to use his mouth at some point during this period. Anxiety builds inside his stomach like a swarm of bees and he’s sure his cheeks were beet red. He prayed to any religion listening that he would not have to speak until he could get these terrible things pried off his pearly whites in eighteen months.
“Hey, Craig,” greets his best friend, Tweek, on entering the classroom. Craig’s heart flutters in its cage at the mere endearing sight of the coffee-addict. Characteristically, his light blonde hair is an utter disaster, and his plain grey pull over is a size too big. His entirety vaguely trembles constantly—a side effect of his over consumption of caffeine combined with the anxiety and ADD. Dark shadows reside permanently underneath big, beautiful green eyes.
Craig grants him a nod and a toothless grin, admiring how cute his butt looks in those skinny blue jeans as he ambles passed to reach his assigned seat directly behind him. He sighs to himself, fantasies of flirtatiously slapping his backside invading his thoughts. He’s been pining over this boy for only God and Clyde knows how long—stuck in the frustrating he-likes-me-he-likes-me-not zone. Being the extreme introvert he is, he refuses to make any kind of a move without being a thousand percent sure he won’t reveal something personal and embarrassing about himself unless it doesn’t have to be personal or embarrassing. Rejection is almost as dreadful as these dumb braces.
“Dude, did you see last night’s episode?” Clyde asks after taking his spot in the desk beside him. Craig peers over at his overly excited friend and shakes his head from side to side. This is the only moment he’s been thankful for his exaggerations and love of talking. “Holy fucking balls, dude, it was insane! Okay, you know that chick Rick was into? Her and her son got eaten by walkers! Oh, oh, but in the beginning, like one of the very first scenes, Daryl totally blew up that gang with this bazooka thing or whatever, it kicked ass!”
“What are you talking about?” Tweek inquires curiously.
“The Walking Dead, dude! Don’t tell me you don’t watch it.”
“Gah, why would I watch that?!” The blonde returns instantly. “Zombies freak me out! Plus, there’s way too much gore. Whenever I watch scary movies I have nightmares for a year!”
Clyde rolled his eyes humorously, “What doesn’t freak you out, Tweek?”
Tweek sighs, “It’s a short list.”
Craig chuckles softly as they all avert their attention to the teacher that announces the beginning of class. He manages to only be forced to mutter a few sentences here and there for the first four periods of the day. Luckily he isn’t known for being a talker anyways—most people just assumed he was in a mood. However, sitting with Stan and those assholes is a much more daunting task that he considers skipping entirely.
Wordlessly sliding onto the cafeteria bench beside Tweek, he keeps his head ducked as the guys carry on a conversation about Kenny finally getting his temps. He instinctively returns Tweek’s gaze when he turns to face him. Their lips mirror a bashful smile. “Hey.”
Craig mutters, “Hi.”
“Are you alright? You’ve been kinda quiet today.” Tweek inquires, perking his head to the side adorably.
Craig only nods in reply. The other boy isn’t totally convinced, but doesn’t want to annoy Craig by pressing. As earlier established, he was frightened of a lot of things—bothering Craig was a major fear of his. He just smiled half-heartedly and returned his attention to the rest of the boys.
Cartman notices Craig’s solemn disposition after a while, and being who he is, makes the comment, “Why’s up your butt, Craig?”
Craig gave him an uninterested glare before raising his middle finger towards him. “Don’t flip me off, you asshole, it was just a question!” Cartman barks back indignantly.
“Seriously, though, dude, you’ve been acting weird all day.” Clyde adds with more sincerity. It only earns him a middle finger as well.
“Whatever, they probably decided Venus isn’t a real planet or something.” Cartman grumbles, taking a dig at Craig’s fascination with the final frontier.
“I’m fine.” Craig spews shortly, covering his lips with two fingers. “Just really tired.”
Of course, his efforts to keep the metal nightmare unknown are in vain. Kyle turns his head to the side, narrowing his eyes at Craig. “Did you get braces, dude?” he questions innocently enough, but it sends Craig into an avalanche of rage and mortification.
“Uh, no,” Craig mutters shortly, searching for a spot on the linoleum floor to stare at and pretend he hadn’t been found far more quickly than he was hoping.
“Holy shit, he totally did! That’s why he’s being a little bitch!” Cartman concludes with an obnoxious laugh.
“Shut up, fatass,” Kyle growls in a warning tone. “It’s not even funny.”
“You’re right, Kahl. It’s fucking hilarious!” The fat boy continues to bring attention to Craig’s biggest insecurity.
Craig is fuming, and just when he was about to open his mouth to shoot a rude comment in return, the small voice of Tweek beats him to it. “Shut the fuck up, Cartman. You’re being a dick.”
Surprise colors everyone’s faces at the blond being direct with anyone. Usually he’s too nervous to ask people to get out of his way when trying to reach his locker, yet here he is, standing up to a bully. It brings a prideful smirk to Craig’s lips.
Cartman recovers quickly from the unexpected retaliation, scoffing, “You expect me to not make fun of someone for getting braces, spaz?”
Tweek rolls his eyes, “Just fuck off.”
“What, tinsel teeth can’t defend himself so he has to have his butt-buddy do it for him?” Cartman shot back.
Craig lets out a loud huff, covering his lips and feeling like crying. It’s extremely rare for anything that Cartman says to get to him, but this is his one topic of weakness. He feels so unattractive with these train tracks across his teeth. He wishes more than anything they would just disappear. Or, that he would.
“It isn’t fucking funny, Cartman!” Tweek continues to defend his friend, anger rising within him.
“You’re just pissed off that you’re gonna have to kiss chapped lips for two years.” Cartman shrugs. That was the straw to break the camel’s back. Before anyone else could see the tears welling in Craig’s hazel eyes, he abruptly stands and rushes out of the dining area of the school. All six boys fall silent at the table, exchanging unsure gazes. Cartman knows he pushed too far (and was frankly surprised that Kyle hadn’t jumped down his throat about it yet), but like always, he doesn’t really care. That is until Tweek rises from his sitting position seething with rage.
He shouts very audibly, obtaining the attention from other tables, “Why do you always have to make some kind of rude ass comment to everyone? Craig’s fucking insecure about his braces and you just keep pushing! Are you really that sad and lonely that your only sense of accomplishment comes from making other people feel like shit about themselves also? Because that says a hell of a lot about you, you pathetic asswipe.”
With that being said, Tweek struts out of the cafeteria in pursuit of Craig, leaving Clyde and Stan with their jaws on the ground and Kenny and Kyle cracking up. Cartman blushes furiously and sputters to concoct a clever reply. Nobody accepts it, however—he got put in his place by the least likely person to do so.
“Craig?” Tweek calls out when he reaches the dingy boy’s bathroom. He peaks underneath the stalls for Craig’s black, high-top converse. He frowns when there’s a concerning lack of them. “Where else could he be?”
Craig has been sitting outside in the chilly Colorado weather for five minutes now, wallowing in self-pity. Thankfully he succeeds in containing his humiliated waterworks as his listless gaze stares out at the falling snow against the brick wall of a neighboring building. Every once in a while he joins the goth kids out here for a cigarette, but of course the day he needs one most they’re absent. Instead he just watches the frozen precipitation gradually fall to the earth to join their brothers and sisters.
His stomach twists unpleasantly when he hears the door crack open behind him. Fearful of being caught by a teacher, he snaps his neck to see who discovered his hiding place from Cartman’s ridiculing. He breathes a sigh of relief when he sees that it’s only his favorite person in the world. Tweek smiles sadly at him, seemingly relieved to find him there.
The blond takes a seat on the cold concrete step beside him and rests his arms on his knees. Butterflies graze their stomachs when their thighs brush slightly. Tweek is quiet for a moment, choosing his words tactfully before speaking, “Y’know, I really hate my laugh.”
Craig signifies his confusion by knitting his eyebrows together. Tweek reads his misunderstanding and extrapolates, “It’s really high-pitched and irritating. I heard it on a recording once and I was like ‘Fuck, is that really what I sound like’? So, now I try really hard to keep it quiet and just chuckle when I’m around other people.”
Craig frowns, “But your laugh is adorable.”
Tweek grins. “And your smile is adorable with or without braces.”
His point becomes clear to Craig after that statement. He shakes his head and stares down. “I look stupid.”
“Craig, there’s nothing that could make you look stupid.” Tweek tries to explain, turning towards him. The flaps of his blue winter hat and tuffs of black hair disguise his profile, but he can tell that Craig’s frowning. “You’re honestly the best looking kid in this entire school, and I’m not just saying that to make you feel better. I’ve never been brave enough to tell you this, but I think you’re really, really cute…”
This confession catches Craig’s attention. He lifts his gaze to meet a forest green one, lips curling into a grin at the slightly flustered Tweek. If this had been anyone else, he would have fallen into a bumbling mess of twitches and stuttering—but something about the Tucker boy always seems to help him find his center. He shares a smile of his own, “You have such a nice little nose and your eyes are, like, two different colors, which is really cool, and your smile always makes me smile, too. Just being near you calms me down and makes me feel really happy. Anyone who feels that way about you isn’t going to give a shit about your braces, Craig, I promise. I’m sure they hurt and make you feel a little silly, but they don’t make you any less… perfect. They’re actually kind of cute.”
Craig’s head spins with this overwhelming information. Tweek thinks he’s attractive? This gorgeous beam of golden sunshine sent straight from Heaven itself thinks he’s worthy of taking a second glance at? Heart palpitating and full, Craig leans in real close and cups Tweek’s cheek. A spur of the moment action leaves them both gasping in a pleasant shock as their lips meet one another’s.
The feeling is indescribable. Despite the fact that both boys have reached their sixteenth year in this world, neither of them has found the occasion to have their first kiss before this moment. Gay boys are a scarce breed in their quiet, little mountain town. It was a whole new world; every worry and doubt and insecurity fluttering away. The only thing that matters is how Craig’s lips are soft and inviting and Tweek’s taste like shitty coffee and fit with his like a puzzle piece.
When they withdraw from the kiss Craig’s expression is apologetic and nervous. He lets his hand fall from Tweek’s cheek, “Sorry,”
Tweek smiles brightly, reaching for Craig’s retreating hand and tangling their fingers together. He giggles softly as he says, “Don’t apologize for finally kissing me. You’re so cute.”
Craig rolls his eyes, practically glowing. “Shut up.”
“Absolutely not, cutie,” Tweek hums, tapping the tip of Craig’s nose before raising their entwined hands. “How about we go back into the lunchroom and shove this in Cartman’s face?”
“Sounds perfect.” Craig spoke in agreement, uncaring of whether or not his braces were visible. Tweek notices this and smirks with self-satisfaction. The couple stands and heads back inside hand-in-hand, ready to make that fat bully eat his words.