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“Dude… this is fucking magnificent.” Clyde sighs, gazing wide-eyed at the screen before them.
“Yeah,” Craig agrees simply with equal amazement in his tone.
Normally Clyde rejects his roommate’s insistence to view all the horrifically boring documentaries he enjoys, but now that the delicious Rice Crispy Treat edible has kicked in, he concurs that it is an amazing program. The pair lay side-by-side on their tummies on Craig’s creaky full bed, absolutely enthralled in Disney+’s Into the Canyon. Hardly any of the narration has resonated in Clyde’s THC-addled brain but the production value and picturesque scenery of the Grand Canyon is more than enough to maintain his attention.
“I wonder what it smells like.” Craig says.
“Probably like… Like fuckin’ fish or something.”
“You think the Grand Canyon smells like fish?”
“I dunno, there’s water at the bottom. Fish live in water.”
Craig rolls his head to the side lazily, hazels narrowing a confused stare behind drooping eyelids. “There’s not that much water, man, it’s in the desert.”
Clyde points at the screen, “What do you mean?! There’s a river!”
“Well, pft, yeah, but just, the water to big fucking rock ratio is pretty… uh, different.” Craig tries to amend, losing his train of thought halfway through.
“Well… I don’t know… maybe it smells like… fucking, uh, mud, then.” Clyde hypothesizes again, this time earning a hearty laugh from the man beside him. He watches out of the corner of his eye with a hazy smile as Craig hides his face against Clyde’s shoulder. “I don’t know! I don’t know what a big rock smells like!”
Craig snorts in between chuckles in the way that makes him sound like a backed-up garbage disposal and is reserved only for Clyde’s unjudging ears. Once he composes himself, he poses, “Maybe it just smells like dust.”
“I dunno what dust smells like, bro. I do my best to avoid that. I got allergies.”
Craig hums, “Uh, okay, you know like, when you’re at an old person’s house or in an attic or some shit and it smells like… stale?”
“Uh… I think so.”
“That’s dusty.”
“That makes sense.”
“But, it’s so open, so it probably doesn’t smell stale.”
“Probably not.”
The pair fall silent again, continuing to peer in wonderment at the aerial shots of one of America’s most popular tourist destinations. If Clyde were not incredibly stoned, he would be hyper focused on the fact that Craig’s head remains resting against his shoulder. Though it does not register in his mind as it usually does (as a loud alarm of arousal and confusion blaring in his skull to warn him to stay as far away from his best friend and crush as possible before he inadvertently blurs the lines), he dares not move and break the contact. It is an extremely peaceful ambiance the two have created.
“Wait…” Clyde starts after the bout of quiet that has nearly rendered Craig asleep. He waits until he hears a hum of confirmation from the other man that he is cognizant before posing his inquiry, “Don’t we live near the Grand Canyon?”
“What?”
“Isn’t it not that far from here?”
“What are you talking about, it’s like, a day away.”
“There’s no way it’s that far! Isn’t it in Arizona?”
Craig whines and rubs his noses against Clyde’s flannel. “I don’t know.”
“Yes you do!”
“Stop making me think, dude, you’re ruining my high.”
Clyde giggles proudly, “Wow, I never thought I’d see a day where I’m smarter than you.”
Craig’s whine turns to a growl. “Fuck off, you’re the on who thinks the Grand Canyon is close to us in Colorado.”
“It said that the Colorado River flows through it!” Clyde exclaims.
“The Colorado River is really fucking long, genius.”
“Whatever, I feel like that was a pretty logical assumption.”
“Compared to your usual baseless assumptions, I’ll agree to that,” Craig quips with a short chuckle. “Why don’t you just Google it?”
“What the Grand Canyon smells like?”
Craig snorts again before correcting, “How far away it is,”
Clyde really would under normal circumstances. But right now, he does not want to sacrifice the placement of Craig’s head against him and their bodies pressed so closely just to retrieve his cellphone from the back pocket of his jeans. He grumbles, “Don’t feel like it.”
“I guess I have to do everything myself.” Craig mumbles to Clyde’s surprise and disappointment. He was not banking on his generally quite lazy friend to take the initiative to sit upright and snatch his own phone from his nightstand.
Trying to contain his sadness at the loss of contact, Clyde shifts to his side to cast his eyes over to Craig. He takes an absurd amount of time to come up with the answer to their inquiry: “It’s 10 hours away.”
“What’s it smell like?”
“Hold on…” Craig trails off, typing away at his phone. “It says… Once you've identified one, smell its bark—you'll be rewarded with a rich vanilla-like scent.”
The pair exchange confused glances before Clyde puffs out a chuckle. “What the fuck does that mean?”
Craig joins the laughing fit and shrugs, “I don’t have a single fucking clue.”
“That sounds like a weird Instagram poem!” Clyde wheezes as the two fall into one another, both far too amused. He steadies himself upright and watches Craig’s hand grasp his knee for support. He swallows, “I guess we’ll never know, man.”
Craig hums, nodding in agreement. His gaze seems far off again, zoning out and going nonverbal. Clyde easily joins him in the state, inadvertently starring intent at Craig’s handsome profile, framed immaculately by his dark, tousled fringe. His brain wanders off on a brief, half-coherent daydream before Craig suddenly snaps him out of it with a suggestion. “We should go see for ourselves.”
“You mean smell for ourselves?”
“I mean we should get in the car and drive there.”
Clyde snaps his neck toward Craig and furrows his eyebrows. “Are you being forreal?”
Craig shrugs his shoulders, “Neither of us work tomorrow, right?”
“I don’t…” Clyde confirms. He swallows hard and peers over to the television, still displaying images of the landform in discussion. “You really think we could do it?”
“Yeah, I think we can drive.” Craig quips, sending his friend a wink when Clyde glares.
Clyde lets out another laugh, “You’re crazy, bro!”
“No I’m not. It’s not a short drive but we can do it, it’ll be fine,” Craig repeats. He puts his weight on his feet and stretches his back out. When he peers down at Clyde he grins lazily, attempting to purdade him with a hand gesture, “Come on, let’s go smell the Grand Canyon.”
Another laugh is released, and wide brown eyes examine his friend’s face, “How is this your idea?”
“What do you mean? I can be spontaneous.”
“Sure, but more like, spontaneously good at Mario Kart,”
“Do you want me to go without you?”
“I’m trying to figure out if this is some kind of fever dream, dude, give me a second!”
He manages to make Craig laugh with this one, but the man remains seemingly determined. He watches him shuffle around the room, slowly collecting socks, shoes, and a hat.
“C’mon, let’s go.”
At this juncture, he knows it is happening. Craig is way too lazy to carry on a gimmick this long. Clyde lets a broad grin stretch his lips and he hops up to join him, “Alright, let’s fucking go!”
The pair share a clumsy high-five before Clyde dashes into his own bedroom to prepare for the journey. Once clothed, they fill a duffel bag with water bottles, Coke cans, and loose snacks, cackling at one another for their high-opinions of what is essential . The next thing Clyde knows, he is committed to spend at least 20 hours alone with Craig.
To kick off the trip, Craig drives and Clyde controls the music. He clicks on some early 2000’s pop radio and digs into a half-eaten bag of Doritos they shoved into their travel bag. Once Craig has GPS situated on his own cell phone, resting on the magnetic holder stuck to his dashboard, he plunges his hand into the chip back to scoop out a few for himself. He comments, “You still use Pandora?”
Clyde nods, replying with a mouthful of cheese dust, “Yeah, it’s great! I don’t ever have to choose what to listen to, it does all the work for me.”
“That’s why you just make a playlist of all the songs you like,” Craig counters before chomping down on the snack.
Clyde sniffs, “Don’t pretend like you didn’t learn all the songs you like from Pandora. Especially from 80’s Greatest Hits Radio.”
Craig grins fondly at the memory. “That was good shit, I’ll give you that.”
“See?” Clyde chortles, slipping a few chips between his lips. As he hums along to Taio Cruz and watches snowy mountains and endless evergreens come and go out of view from the passenger window, he feels the beginning of sobriety coming on. Fatigue also starts to burden his eyes, but he does not dare give in while Craig is wide awake beside him.
Craig looks good like this. Other than the fact that Craig always looks good, Clyde can’t exactly pinpoint why . He’s in a beanie, sweatshirt, and athletic shorts like usual when he is merely lounging around the apartment, and maybe that’s it. Usually he dresses up or throws on a flamboyant button down and cuffed chinos when he leaves the apartment. This also looks really good on him, but Clyde thinks he prefers him like this—comfortable and soft. He likes to know Craig feels at home with him.
All of a sudden they have been driving for an hour. After announcing this fact with a yawn, Clyde asks, “Are we out of Colorado yet?”
“What?” Craig snaps, clicking his eyes quickly to his friend, “No, not even close.”
“Really? How long will it take?”
“Not an hour , idiot,”
Clyde sends him a glare, pouts a lip, “I’m not an idiot! How the hell am I supposed to know how long it takes to drive through our state?”
“A modicum of common sense and basic knowledge of geography,” Craig explains with a smirk.
“Good thing you’re driving, then, oh, brilliant one.”
The way Craig tells Clyde to go fuck himself under his breath, he can tell he is sobering up as well. He at least somewhat hopes he is considering he is in control of the vehicle they share. Either way, he trusts Craig in the end. He trusts him enough to accidentally drift off after reclining against the headrest behind him.
_
Craig feels an immense sense of relief when a quick glance through the glass panel windows of the small shop reveals a public restroom. He veers his car up to an empty gas pump and lets out a breath. Four hours was more driving than he had done in a long time and his unsuspecting joints are in desperate need of a break.
After putting the vehicle into park, he glances over to find Clyde still completely zonked out. He would be irritated at being left awake alone during a good chunk of the journey but Clyde is just too goddamn adorable when he’s asleep. His reasoning for not
waking him up kind of makes Craig hate himself but he has already long since accepted he is stupidly in love with his dumb best friend.
He savors the last few moments of Clyde snoozing peacefully beside him. His mouth is hung wide open and all of his boyish features are still. Instead of looming over him and peppering his face with kisses until he is eased into consciousness like he wants, he grasps his shoulder and pushes him around, “Get up.” Clyde groans out a noise that sounds like humhna and Craig stifle an enticed grin. “Wake up and come make sure I don’t get kidnapped while I pee.”
Clyde sucks in a deep breath through his nose and scans his surroundings. “Okay. Wouldn’t want to put those poor kidnappers through that.”
“Hilarious.”
The two exit the vehicle and stretch before heading inside. Craig is unfortunately forced to explain to his friend that he does not need to actually physically enter the single-stall restroom with him in order to offer protection, but allows himself a amused, charmed smile in the solitude of the restroom. While waiting for Clyde to take a turn, he checks his messages, grimacing when he sees multiple from Tweek in all caps. Unable to conjure the energy to type out responses to his friend’s frantic musings, he presses the ‘call’ option as he replenishes his gas tank.
“Dude, where the hell are you guys?!” Tweek shrieks as soon as the other line connects. “We were supposed to hang out after I got off work and nobody’s home! Are you guys alright?!”
“Shit, Tweek, I’m really sorry, I totally forgot you were coming over,” Craig sighs, a guilty frown pulling at his lips.
“It’s - It’s honestly fine, I was really tired, but I just got really worried about you two! What are you doing? Are you in a safe place? Do you need me to come help?!”
Craig attempts to put on a soothing tone to ensure they are not actually being kidnapped, “Yeah, dude, relax, everything is cool. We decided to visit the Grand Canyon.”
“WHAT?!”
It is a deafening response that he should have anticipated, but his eardrums pay the price and continue to do so as Tweek lectures him, “Are you guys insane?! What are you even talking about, what do you mean you’re going to the Grand Canyon?!”
Craig stifles a laugh as he explains, watching the price on the pump rapidly ticks up, “It’s not that big of a deal, dude, we’ll be home, like, tomorrow night. We were watching a documentary about it and thought it would be cool to check it out.”
“You’ve officially fucking lost your mind, man! Do you know how many people a year die at the Grand Canyon?!”
“Enough to make you freak yourself out about it for a full week back in high school,” Craig retorts, “which could mean anywhere from 5 to 5,000.”
“Oh, ha-ha, let’s all laugh at Tweek because he is actually cautious and aware of potential hazards!”
“Don’t worry, we’re going to be fine. We are looking after each other.”
Tweek sighs, “You are… are you sure being with him alone that long will be good for you, though? I mean, you make a good team, sure, but aren’t you kind of… torturing yourself?”
As if on cue, the object of Craig’s affection comes strides out of the gas station. His heart clenches at the implication of Tweek’s words, and as usual whenever the topic arises, he mildly regrets opening up about his feelings for Clyde. He swallows and nods to no one, “I’ll be okay. Don’t worry about me.”
“I’ve been consistently worrying about you every day of my life since childhood, man. I’m allowed to be concerned about you willingly going on a spontaneous joyride alone with Clyde.”
“Tweek, it’s fine, dude. I appreciate the concern but, seriously…” He trails off, soul soaring again as Clyde approaches with a soft smile and a questioning eyebrow. “Uh, do you want to talk to him?”
“Clyde—?”
“Who is it?” Clyde mouths.
“Yeah,” Craig confirms, mouthing back, “Tweek.”
“Sure, put him on. But think about what I said!” Tweek warns.
“Okay, dad, here he is.” Craig deadpans and passes the device off.
“What’s good, Tweekers!” Clyde greets, leaning back against the closed door of Craig’s vehicle. “Oh, shit, no way! I’m super sorry, I forgot! We got pretty baked and probably just forgot.”
Craig zones out, ignoring half of Tweek and Clyde’s exchange and dwelling on the advice given to him. It was an admittedly astute observation that came in conjunction with Craig’s own wavering confidence in his ability to cope with his repressed romantic feelings.
His eyes magnetically find Clyde’s sleepy but smiling face, handsome profile on display for him to admire. Even if it is occasionally difficult to compose himself in the man’s presence and even harder to accept that nothing will ever come of his feelings, having Clyde in his life at any capacity is beyond worth it to him.
_
“Dude, Craig, you gotta pull over and let me drive,” Clyde insists again.
The driver rolls his tired head to the side to pin him with a half-hooded glare. “M’fine, it’s only another two hours.”
“Exactly, bro, it’s two hours! There’s no way you’re gonna be able to make it upright! And no offense, but I’d rather not die via car crash in the middle of nowhere with you.”
They are making their way down a dark, desert highway that eerily resembles where Thelma and Louise committed their harshest crime (and killed themselves). Clyde had shamefully fallen asleep for another hour after their gas-stop, but has since probably overcompensated for the quiet he left Craig in with music, jokes, and talking.
Craig finally surrenders control of the vehicle and begins to look for a suitable spot to pull over. Clyde sits upright and pops his knuckles and neck, preparing to take the wheel. He is not a huge fan of driving in general but he is eager to explore the open, endless road of the exciting new terrain. Even more so, he is hopeful that Craig will actually let himself rest.
Before switching seats, they allow themselves a moment in the fresh air. Clyde gazes behind them, surprised to find morning sun chasing its way out from behind the horizon. He hums, “I can’t believe how long we’ve been driving.”
“I can,” Craig grumbles, rubbing the back of his neck, “or, at least, my body can.”
Clyde snorts and places a comforting hand on the taller man’s shoulder. “Should’ve brought you that extra edible,” Craig idly agrees as the two continue to stretch and take in their environment. Clyde grins at the alluring scene, “It’s incredibly beautiful out here.”
“That’s gay.” Craig jests.
“ You’re gay.”
“You’re half-gay.”
“Touché.”
Craig chuckles and nudges their shoulders together. Clyde’s heart picks up at the contact as he says, “It is really cool. I’ve only ever seen this kind of thing from the backseat of the car.”
When they had sufficiently enjoyed their stop, the two piled back into the car, Clyde in front of the wheel. Craig immediately puts the seat back and lets out a satisfied groan. “I’m so fucking happy I’m not upright right now.”
Clyde laughs, “Told you you needed a break. Take a nap, I got this!”
“If you crash my car and kill me I’ll haunt you.” Craig threatens.
Clyde grants him a challenging smirk, “What if we survive?”
“I’ll kill you and throw salt at you if you try to haunt me.”
“Seems a little harsh. What i f I die?”
“I’ll kill myself and fight you in Hell.”
Reaching over to pat Craig’s thigh, he replies fondly, “I love that half of the options involve us spending eternity together.”
“ Gay.”
Craig shuts his eyes and Clyde lifts his iPhone to scrutinize their location on the map. Before he can return to the Google Maps application, he is distracted by a few conspicuous text messages from Tweek. His stomach fills with rocks when he thoughtlessly opens the conversation.
Hows everything going??? Are you guys being safe??
You could at LEASt tell me youre alive asshole im worried
Well based on clydes snapstory i can see youre fine so thanks for nothing.
Clyde said you’re trying to pay attention to the road sry. But still. Would be nice if u had him reply.
Idk if you’re going to see this but I think this would a good a time as any to tell clyde how you feel about him. I mean when are u gonna be alone for hours on end with him again??? Just think about it, try to not to be afraid (: have fun and pls for the love of GOD don’t take selfies by the canyon!! That’s how most people fall in
“Craig, what does—“ He pauses, cocking his head to the side to address his friend. His mind is racing and he cannot contain the combination of curiosity and concern the messages from Tweek grant him. “How do you feel about me?”
“What?” Craig wonders simply, completely in the dark.
“Tweek said this would be a good time to tell me how you feel about me... “ Clyde’s words dissolve in his mouth by the end of the sentence. The increasing intensity of Craig’s pretty hazel gaze worsens his symptoms—especially when he sits upright and grasps for his cellphone.
Craig wets his lips as he scans the messages before muttering beneath his breath, “Damn it, Tweek.”
“What does it mean—do you…”
Clyde stops. Everything stops. The world around them pauses and nothing exists but the unfamiliarly vulnerable expression ghosting Craig’s handsome face. An entire hour could have passed as far as Clyde knows before he finally finishes his interrogation, “Do you have feelings for me?”
Craig remains wordlessly caught under Clyde’s expectant glare, unable to make any muscle in his face move to indicate any semblance of a reaction; however, this deer-in-headlights reaction was just what made Clyde deduce the answer and granted him the confidence to first declare, “Because I have feelings for you.”
Breath hitched and eyebrows furrowed, Craig searches the other man’s face as he qualifies the announcement: “Like, I really, really, really fucking like you a lot and I’ve been attracted to you for so long with no idea what to do about it and it’s been tearing me up inside so if you can put me out of my misery and tell me you feel the same please, please do.”
Clyde is vaguely discouraged when Craig remains speechless. Fears that it was too much too soon attack his mind, but they are all swiftly extinguished by Craig leaning in to him. Though extremely eager, some nerves persist as he draws increasingly closer until the nape of his neck is cradled in Craig’s hand and their mouths connect.
The pair kiss passionately, relief and tension tumbling from their shoulders for the first time in such a long time. Clyde feels free and happy and so, unbelievably in love with his best friend, he may just fucking cry like an idiot as per usual.
And he does tear up.
“Are you fucking crying right now?” Craig wonders breathlessly, having pulled back when moisture strikes his cheek.
“I’m sorry, I’m happy!” Clyde defends with a soft laugh.
Craig smiles brightly and slips both hands up to either side of Clyde’s face, swiping away any tears with his thumbs. “I’m so happy. I love you.”
“I love you,” Clyde practically gasps before he is pulled into another sweet kiss. “Why didn’t you just tell me?!”
Craig counters with a raised eyebrow, hands still gently holding his face, “Why didn’t you just tell me? You’re the one who is open and romantic.”
“Yeah, but we’re best friends! I never wanted to do anything to jeopardize that.”
“My reason is not unique, Clyde, obviously I didn’t want to fuck up our friendship either. But believe me, I have really, really been tempted.”
“God, me too,” Clyde hums, rushing back to crash their lips together again.
_
It took a lot of convincing, but Craig finally let himself fall asleep. It isn’t much, but it is certainly better than the alternative of absolutely no rest whatsoever for almost 24 hours. The familiar rage of being woken up prematurely fills him as he is jostled about. He huffs out a long groan of protest before squinting his eyes open to find his favorite person staring down at him.
“Hey, we’re here.”
This also helps to perk Craig up. After recovering from the initial anger and shock of awakening and remembering he is a person, he recalls he and Clyde were on a journey to the Grand Canyon. He weirdly cannot believe they made it.
He is coaxed out of the vehicle with an assortment of kisses, tickles, and annoying singing. All make him feel a warmth inside that compensates for his exhaustion. Eventually they are standing on dusty soil before the Grand Canyon.
“Wow,” Clyde says with a sigh, hands on his hips as he gazes at the vast, breathtaking array of rock structures that curve into one another and stand firm against the elements of nature.
”Yeah,” Craig sighs. “Definitely doesn’t smell like fish.”
“Smells like... honestly, smells pretty normal.”
Something about the sight truly moved Craig. Having emotional reactions to this kind of thing was never something he quite expected of himself. Then again, he did approach the cliff’s edge hand-in-hand with Clyde, who he never thought he would have a chance with.
Heart full, he slings an arm around Clyde’s shoulders and pulls him against his chest. They hold one another tightly and stare into the burnt orange canyon’s magnificent features, glistening with the reflection of the intense Arizona sun. It is an experience unlike any other; it makes him suddenly want to thank a deity for producing such glorious sights and such amazing people.
“So, where are the faces?”
Craig pauses his inner euphoric epiphany to address the shorter man with a scowl. “The what?”
“The faces,” Clyde repeats, gesturing to the structure, “you know, of all the presidents?”
Craig remains silent and in place, electing to save his enraged and amused response to Clyde’s idiocy for the 10 hour ride back to South Park.