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Craig falls back onto the grass with a laugh.
"I feel weird," he says, it comes out in a mumble, words slurring together. He tries to say it again. It's worse the second time.
"Happy?" Kenny quips. "Yeah, that must be kind of weird for you."
Craig laughs again, for some reason he finds that funny. It isn't. It's just something that is.
I am not happy.
"You've never been drunk before?" Kenny asks, leaning over him. He raises his eyebrows in a way that Craig's brain likes. He pulls Kenny's hoodie strings until he stumbles.
"Sit down with me," he says.
"You're laying down," Kenny says, but he sits anyway.
"I've been drunk before," Craig says, suddenly realizing what Kenny asked him. "But like, alone."
"Oh," Kenny says. "That's kind of sad, Craig. But not gonna lie, I've done that too."
Craig shakes his head, "No, you have friends don't you, Kenny? You're never alone."
Kenny laughs, tipping his head back. Craig watches the way his blond hair sticks out of his hood. He wants to touch it. So he does. Kenny lets him.
"My friends are assholes," he says.
"That's true," Craig says, smiling. He tries to nod but decides it isn't worth the trouble.
"My home life isn't the greatest, you know," Kenny continues, more serious. "I am alone. More than you know."
"I'm sorry."
He is. He did know that about Kenny.
"It's okay," he shrugs. "But you do know that you do have friends, right?"
Craig shakes his head, stars blurring above him. He feels cold suddenly.
"My friends are assholes," he laughs, then his vision blurs a little. Softer, he says. "No, they're not. I am."
"Oh, Craig," Kenny lays down next to him. "If you weren't drunk, I'd kiss you right now."
"Why?" Craig asks, he turns to look at Kenny. It's a better view than the stars.
"Because you're sad. And I'm a sucker for damaged bad boys."
Craig tries to decipher his tone. He can't tell if Kenny's joking.
"Or because I like you. Do I need a reason?" Kenny's looking at him.
"It's just something that is," Craig says.
Kenny's smile is beautiful. Craig tells him so.
"You can kiss me," Craig says, seriously. "If you want to."
Kenny's smile fades, then twists into something sad. "If you still want me to in the morning, I will."
"Promise?"
He blinks and when he opens his eyes again everything is moving.
"Kenny?" he says, closing his eyes against the dizzying movement.
"I'm here," he hears his voice behind him, quiet. The music almost drowns him out.
More awake, aware. He realizes he's being carried. He wiggles a little.
"Dude, calm down," he hears another voice, ahead of him.
"Let go of me," Craig mumbles, kicking. "I can walk by myself."
"If you say so," the voice, Stan, he realizes now, says. Then Stan lets go of his legs and Craig drops to the floor. Kenny sets him down more gently.
He stands up, leaning against the wall to steady himself.
"Told you I could," Craig says, petulant. He frowns.
Stan laughs. "You're not walking yet, bro."
Craig takes a few unsteady steps. Then he stops because he has no idea where he's going.
"So stubborn. I can see why Kenny likes you."
Craig vaguely hears Kenny shushing Stan. He's trying to remember where he is.
"Wrong direction. Come on," Stan says, patiently. "Just let me be a good host or whatever. I'll get you set up in the guest room."
"Okay," He reaches for Stan's offered hand. "I don't want to go to sleep though."
"Sure, you don't have to. But if you do, a bed is a lot more comfortable than the ground."
Craig makes a sound in agreement.
"Kenny can have Tweek bring you some coffee if you really want to stay awake. Probably some water too."
Tweek.
There's the real reason Kenny shouldn't kiss him.
"Yeah, Kenny can bring me Tweek," He says. I need to see him.
"Yeah, that works too," Stan says, starting to lead him to the guest room. "Kenny?" He asks, looking back. Craig looks back too. Kenny's staring at the floor, his hood casting his face into darkness. "Can you get Tweek?"
"Sure, Stan," Kenny says, turning abruptly. Craig tries to watch him walk away, but Stan is pulling him along.
"He'll be fine."
Craig isn't so sure.