Chapter Text
“ Gah! He’s here!” Tweek yelped, jerking the curtains closed and ducking out of view.
He had stood at the window looking out onto his driveway for at least fifteen minutes, alternating between nervously checking the time on his phone and picking at a stubborn piece of food that had lodged itself in the small gap between his two front teeth. He hurried over to the mirror that hung on the wall next to the front door, frantically smoothing his messy locks down, hoping to appear at least somewhat presentable tonight.
He took another quick peek through the small crack in the curtains to see Craig’s old beater parked at the curb, heavy exhaust spilling from the muffler and windshield wipers struggling to keep up with the icy rain that pounded against the car.
Tweek’s eyes slid to his phone, clutched tightly in his sweaty hand, as it vibrated and lit up with a short text from Craig:
i’m here :)
He closed his eyes and leaned back against the closed door, breathing deeply and willing his nerves to calm. He was jerked back to consciousness by the sound of the curtain rings scraping the rod as they were pulled back yet again to reveal Craig waiting outside. A peel of laughter sounded, high and raspy, not unlike his own but certainly more sinister.
“No! Nonono no , not you again!” Tweek begged, eyes wide as he lifted a hand to bat away at the tiny, winged imp that fluttered in circles around his head. It floated higher and higher until it was just out of reach as Tweek waved his arms to no avail, stretching onto his tippy toes, while the imp smirked at him, lamplight glinting off its slick fangs.
With a gusty sigh, Tweek dropped back onto his heels and hastily smoothed out his wrinkled button up. With a groan, he reached for the doorknob and twisted it, letting in a rush of frigid air.
The imp continued to cackle as it settled on his left shoulder, leaning against Tweek’s ear and whispering sarcastically, “Your chariot awaits, my prince,” before falling backwards in a fit of guffaws, clenching its belly and kicking its little cloven hooves in the air.
“Shut up!” Tweek hissed, rolling his shoulder to try to knock the imp off as he turned and locked the door behind him, “at least he has a car!”
Tweek stepped cautiously along the icy stone path that led from his front porch to the driveway. He shot up a quick glance at Craig, a shy smile and a hasty wave, before returning his gaze to the ground, careful not to slip.
“Why do you have to do this to me? Why are you here again!” he hissed at the imp, “Why can’t you just go away!”
“Oh, Tweek, you know I would never miss your first date!”
It pinched Tweek’s cheek between two clawed fingers, adding critically, “Even if it is at seventeen years old.”
Tweek huffed, “ Please don’t sabotage this, I really like Craig!”
“Oh, sweet summer child, I would never! I resent that you have so little faith in me. I’m simply here to make sure you don’t embarrass yourself. You want a second date, don’t you? You want him to invite you up to his room at the end of the night, don’t you ?”
“Jesus Christ!” Tweek shrieked, cheeks pinkening, “He lives with his parents!”
From where Craig sat, peering out the driver’s side window, all he could see was Tweek fussing to no one, seemingly with himself- but that wasn’t completely out of the ordinary.
“Just leave me alone! And be quiet !” Tweek warned one last time before yanking the door of Craig’s car open, sliding into the passenger seat and slamming the door shut before the imp could follow.
Finally away from its incessant tormenting, Tweek took a breath and turned to Craig.
“Hi,” Craig said, a closed-lipped smile stretching across his face, “you look good.”
Tweek smiled bashfully in return, glancing down at his slightly rumpled clothes and dirty sneakers. No matter how hard he tried, no matter how long he took getting ready and critiquing himself in the mirror, he always felt he looked disheveled. Although he did make an effort, spending at least an hour in his mother’s bathroom and even borrowing his father’s iron to try to press his shirt, he felt he still looked the same way he did every other day.
Craig, however, did not. Tweek’s eyes trailed over his body, taking in his neat outfit, perfectly coiffed hair, and the hint of spicy cologne that tinged the air. He was not wearing the typical faded hoodie and gray sweatpants that Tweek had grown accustomed to seeing him at school. He was wearing a crisp, white button-up under an extremely soft-looking and well-fitting camel colored sweater. Tweek’s eyes dropped to Craig’s lap, pausing just briefly on the stressed fabric between his thighs, and his gaze slid down his long legs clad in navy blue slacks. He felt his ears getting warm.
He had been staring.
“Oh! Um, thank you. So…so do you!” he said, awkwardly tearing his eyes away from Craig and to focus on the windshield in front of him.
He heard the crunch of the tires over the ice as Craig pulled out from the curb and onto the street, high-beam headlights illuminating the little crystals of precipitation that fell from the sky.
“So,” Craig began as he stopped at the stop sign just before the main road, “are you hungry?”
Tweek turned to look at him again, this time landing on Craig’s large hands that gripped the steering wheel at ten and two. His skin was lightly tanned, a cup of coffee with a splash of cream, and looked so soft. Fingernails evenly trimmed, clean, perhaps even a bit shiny. Tweek cocked his head. As of late, he had grown to think Craig was possibly the most handsome boy he had ever seen, but still he never thought of Craig as one to put so much effort into his appearance.
Oh, he had been staring again.
Right on cue, Tweek’s stomach let out a terrible growl. He winced and folded his arms across his belly, hoping to muffle the sound.
Craig glanced over with a chuckle, “Perfect.”
Just as Craig began to explain to Tweek where he had planned to take him to dinner that evening, Tweek felt a small weight reappear on his shoulder and blinked his eyes as a small puff of smoke clouded his vision.
“Did you really think you could get rid of me that easily?” the imp purred into his ear, giggling and tracing a sharp nail along the skin of his neck.
It leaned forward, interested, elbows resting on its furry knees, as it gazed at Craig. Tweek could hear Craig speaking somewhere in the back of his mind, could see his shapely mouth forming words, but he couldn’t concentrate for trying to quash the feeling of panic now that the imp had returned.
“Oh, look at him,” it sighed, gazing dreamily, tiny red hearts pulsing in its pupils, “so handsome . So dark, so tall.”
The imp hopped off of Tweek’s shoulders, fluttering down to the floorboard and running its hands along the leather of Craig’s shoes.
“Look, Tweek, would you just look at the size of these feet ?”
“ Gah , just- quit it!” Tweek yelped, stomping his foot and thumping his head against the headrest.
Craig immediately stopped talking, glancing at Tweek with concern before asking, “Oh, you don’t like Italian food?”
“What?” Tweek said, straightening back up and meeting Craig’s curious eyes, “Oh, no, um, Italian is great! That’s great. I’m sorry. I’m just- um.”
And that was the only explanation he could offer, so he sat back and looked out the windshield again, the tittering of the little imp echoing in his ear.
“ Bless him ,” it said with a series of ‘ tsk ’s, returning to its perch on Tweek’s shoulder, “he has a pimple. Oh, I’m sure he’s so self conscious of it. Tell him it’s okay, Tweek.”
“I’m not saying anything about his pimple ,” Tweek said through clenched teeth.
“You must say something,” it continued, “I’m sure he’s been agonizing about it this whole time. He won’t be able to enjoy your date at all for fear that you think he looks like a narwhal.”
Tweek groaned, turning to Craig who was once again saying words Tweek couldn’t focus on due to the menace perched atop his shoulder.
Craig did have a pimple. Right smack in the middle of his forehead, furiously red and no doubt irritated from incessant poking and prodding before he picked Tweek up. Normally, his dark, messy bangs likely would have covered it, but today his hair was parted neatly and combed to the side, a hint of a sheen from what Tweek guessed was pomade holding it in place. Maybe he really was worried about it.
“It’s okay, Craig,” he said quickly, causing Craig to shift his eyes from the road to Tweek’s face.
Tweek attempted a sympathetic smile.
“We all get pimples. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”
Craig’s hand immediately lifted to the offending spot, cupping it against his forehead to shield the blemish from view. His cheeks turned rosy red, rivaling the angry shade of the pimple.
“Oh,” he coughed, returning his eyes back to the road and biting his lip, “sorry. It-uh-I think it’s these damn AP classes. So much homework and the tests are coming up…just…stress. Uh, I’m sorry.”
He flexed his fingers against the steering wheel and let his words linger into silence. Tweek grimaced to himself, smacking his own forehead and whispered to the imp as he slumped in his seat.
“That did not feel good.”
The imp released a cackle to his left, wiping tears from its red eyes, “Look at his face!”
“We’ve been in this car for ten minutes and you’re already ruining everything!” Tweek fussed quietly, “Fix it now!”
As the imp crossed its arms across its chest and tapped its chin in a thoughtful gesture, Tweek attempted to patch things up on his own.
“So,” he began, “is this your favorite kind of music?”
Craig immediately reached out and turned the volume knob down, grabbing his phone and yanking the aux cord from it. He held the cord out to Tweek.
“Yeah, well, yeah kinda. But you can listen to anything you want. Sorry, I meant to say that earlier.”
Tweek smiled and shook his head, waving Craig off, “No, no. It’s fine! I like it.”
He plugged Craig’s phone back in and twisted the knob up again, listening closely to a song he faintly recognized.
His eyes crinkled as a wide grin spread across his face once he finally placed the song.
“My grandma loved this song!” he said happily, smiling over at Craig.
A small chuckle left Craig’s lips as Tweek noticed his shoulders relax. He tapped a finger lightly on the steering wheel to the tune of the song.
“My dad does, too. That’s where I heard all of this stuff. It’s all he ever listens to. I learned them all by heart from sitting in the garage with him while he worked on his car when I was little.”
Tweek’s heart swelled at the thought of a little Craig sitting in his dad’s workshop with him, legs swinging off the edge of a stool, still years away from reaching the ground. Big, inquisitive hazel eyes observing his dad’s every move, asking questions and absorbing all of the answers.
Tweek leaned forward and cranked the volume knob even further up as the song began to break down, the sounds of the guitar, bass, and drums swelling together into the penultimate moment of the tune. He clutched his hands to his chest as he exaggeratedly crooned along with the vocalist.
Craig laughed uninhibitedly, for a moment forgetting to hide his crooked teeth behind a close-lipped smile. He sang along with Tweek, although much more timidly, as they giggled together between stanzas.
The song faded softly as Tweek rolled his head to look at Craig, eyes tracing the curve of his face, the long slope of his nose. He felt relaxed, happy, lulled by the motion of the car and Craig’s careful driving. He had almost forgotten the previous fiasco until…
“I’ve got it! I know how you can fix it!” the imp whispered mischievously, twirling a stray golden curl of Tweek’s around its finger.
It hopped from his shoulder and onto the glovebox between them, gesturing enthusiastically to Craig’s leg.
“Put your hand…here,” it said, pointing to a spot a couple of inches above Craig’s knee.
Tweek balked, eyes wide as he shook his head minutely, keenly aware that Craig’s attention was currently on the road as they approached a busy intersection.
“No,” he mouthed emphatically to the imp.
“ Right, right ,” it said, bopping the side of its head with its palm, “ that won’t do.”
It rose slightly in the air, hovering as it traveled even further up Craig’s leg. After brief consideration, it stopped, tiny wings beating the air to keep it afloat, and looked up at Tweek with a devilish grin.
“Touch him… here ,” it insisted, caressing its tiny hand over a spot on Craig’s upper thigh, dangerously close to the slope between his legs.
Tweek’s face ignited and he felt his cheeks start to burn again.
Sneaking another glance at Craig, he checked to make sure his eyes were still focused on the road and heard him softly humming along to the radio.
“No,” Tweek mouthed again, shaking his head at the imp.
“Do it,” it said, tracing serpentine patterns in the fabric of Craig’s pants with its nail.
“ No ,” Tweek stressed again, eyebrows furrowed and jaw clenched.
“Yes!”
“No!”
“ Touch him! ” the imp yelled, surging up to Tweek’s face with fire glowing in its eyes. Dodging like a phobe from a wasp, he yelped, squeezing his eyes shut and throwing a hand blindly in the direction of Craig, until he felt the soft fabric of his slacks against his palm.
Suddenly, Tweek jolted forward as Craig slammed on the brakes. He cracked an eye open and glanced to where his hand had landed, at the top of Craig’s thigh, curved slightly along the inside, just inches from his zipper, the subtle heat from between his legs creeping along Tweek’s fingers.
Craig’s eyes bulged as looked down where Tweek was touching him. An awkward cough, a tinge of red creeping up his ears, and he stepped on the gas pedal again, accelerating slowly.
Tweek chuckled awkwardly as the imp’s laughter rang obnoxiously in his ear. He lifted his fingers to pat Craig’s leg, otherwise leaving his palm where it was. Would it be worse to rip his hand away, as if the warmth of Craig’s body had singed him? Or worse yet to leave it there, unsure if he was feeling Craig’s pulse or his own, daring himself not to look at the crotch of Craig’s pants?
He wrestled with the question until Craig finally pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant just as the sun was disappearing behind the mountains. Tweek let his hand slip from Craig’s leg as he hastily rubbed his cheeks, willing the tint and heat to dissipate. The restaurant looked crowded this Saturday night, which was to be expected as it was one of the few decent places to eat in South Park. Tweek hoped Craig had remembered to make a reservation.
A soft, golden glow spilled from the windows and onto the pavement outside, and Tweek could almost smell the warm, garlicky aroma wafting from inside within the confines of the car. He unbuckled himself with a “ click ” and reached for the door handle.
“Wait,” Craig said, reaching out a hand to stop him, “uh, stay right here.”
He quickly freed himself from his own seatbelt and hopped out of the car, shutting his door gently and hurrying past the front of the car and over to Tweek’s side. Tweek’s door popped open as Craig stood beside it, grinning sheepishly and gesturing for him to step out.
“I, um, forgot to do that earlier. Sorry,” Craig murmured apologetically, rubbing the back of his neck.
A gust of toasty air hit warmed Tweek and tossled the stray hairs around his face as Craig pulled open the front door of the restaurant. Craig walked up to the small crowd gathered around the hostess’ stand and learned forward so she could hear him over the chatter.
“Hi, uh, I have a reservation. For two. Under the name Tucker.”
The hostess led them past the many tables in the main dining room to a more private, quieter side room that was partially hidden behind a fake brick partition. Tweek and Craig slid into either side of the booth as she placed a menu in front of them each.
“Can I get you guys anything to drink?”
“Do you guys have rootbeer?” Craig asked, leaning forward and propping his elbows on the table.
The waitress nodded and turned to Tweek, a bright smile on her face.
“Um, water is fine. And a cup of coffee please.”
She scribbled on her notepad and turned on her heel, throwing back over her shoulder, “A rootbeer and a coffee, got it! Your waiter will be with you shortly!”
Tweek glanced around the room as Craig studied the menu in front of him. He ran his fingers over the worn, red and white checked tablecloths that were draped over every table in the restaurant. The walls were alternatively a warm, exposed brick and dark emerald green, reaching up to pitched ceilings and wood rafters that were draped with low hanging faux vines. The room was dim; a rust-colored pendant light hanging above them and a lantern on the table with a small, flickering flame. From the main dining room, Tweek could hear the bright sound of a mandolin playing, contrasting with a moody accordion and a man singing Italian songs in a deep baritone.
Craig lowered the menu and scrunched his nose, “It’s too corny, isn’t it?”
Tweek took a quick sip of his water and shook his head insistently, “No! Not at all! It’s really nice. I was just thinking…I haven’t been here since my parents stopped taking me with them on their anniversary dates.”
Craig shrugged one shoulder sheepishly.
“Well, I wanted to take you somewhere better than Shitty Wok.”
Tweek laughed, shuddering as he remembered his last visit to that restaurant and how it had left him hugging the toilet bowl for hours after.
“I am very grateful for that.”
Craig grinned and lowered his eyes back to his menu. Tweek took this moment to finally open his.
“So,” Craig began slowly, “ Antipasti . That just means…not pasta, right?”
Tweek suppressed a giggle, “Uh, no, it actually just means appetizers and stuff like that.”
“Oh,” Craig said, cheeks tinting. Tweek couldn’t help but find it a bit cute.
“Do you want one?”
“What?” Craig asked, eyes flickering up quickly to meet Tweek’s.
“An appetizer. We could get one if you want. The bruschetta sounds good.”
Craig hummed a bit as he skimmed over the menu. He furrowed his eyebrows as he tried to decipher the Italian words interspersed throughout.
“Uh, what’s that?” he asked.
“It’s like…little…toasts kind of. They pile it with tomatoes and feta and balsamic vinaigrette. I promise it’s not weird or anything. You’ll like it!”
“Okay,” Craig agreed easily, “we can get it.”
He lowered his menu and looked at Tweek contentedly.
“You sure know a lot about this stuff, don’t you?”
“Oh,” Tweek started, rubbing a palm against his cheek and chuckling softly, “I guess? Well kind of. My parents used to travel a lot. They took me to all sorts of places and were really into learning about all the different authentic cuisines.”
He paused for a moment, eyes glazing a bit and a corner of his mouth tugging upward as he recalled those long-ago memories.
“My mom used to cook a lot,” he continued, “and she showed me all kinds of different things to make. After we visited France, she spent weeks in the kitchen trying to perfect croissants. We never really did quite get the hang of it. That’s when I found out I really liked to bake, though.”
“I didn’t know you baked,” Craig said, leaning forward with a genuine smile on his face as he listened.
“Well, I don’t much anymore,” Tweek said, eyes dropping down to the already-tattered napkin between his fingers, “mostly just stuff for the shop.”
Craig pursed his lips, regretfully watching the fond look slip from Tweek’s face. He had felt something in his chest as he watched Tweek’s face light up moments before, the way his slightly coffee-stained teeth had shown when he was talked about something he cared about. Craig wanted to sit with that feeling a bit longer, decipher what exactly it was tugging at the muscles in his chest. He wanted Tweek to look like that again.
“What about this,” Craig said, “how about you come over some day and you can teach me how to bake something. We’ll do it together. Bake something you love.”
“Really?” Tweek’s face brightened back up as he looked at Craig hopefully.
“Absolutely,” Craig said with a grin.
Tweek looked back down at his fidgeting hand, this time to hide the tint on his cheeks and the grin that had creeped onto his face.
“Okay,” he agreed quietly, picking at the fabric of the table cloth with his fingernail.
Just then, their waiter arrived at the table and carefully sat their drinks down in front of them.
“One rootbeer and one hot coffee,” the waiter confirmed as he straightened up and patted his black apron. His pale blue eyes widened in recognition as he glanced between the two.
“Well, heya fellas! I didn’t expect to see you guys here! Why , Craig you’re lookin’ so spiffy I barely recognized ya!”
His eyes narrowed as he lowered his voice conspiratorially, “ Ooh , are y’all on a date ?”
Craig coughed awkwardly and lifted his rootbeer for a sip.
“Butters,” Tweek greeted, “I didn’t know you worked here.”
“Sure!” Butters answered cheerily, straightening up, “I’ve been working here for the last couple of months and, let me tell ya,” he leaned closer, “you can make some real motherfuckin’ money here with all the tips, ‘specially on the weekends when the out-of-towners come down.”
Craig made a face, “People come from out of town to eat here?”
“Well yeah!” Butters yelped, and Tweek glanced around to see if any other tables had been disturbed the commotion, “lots of those businessmen from up in Denver like to come ‘round to these smaller towns with their…with their escorts , away from the crowds. Do you know what I am sayin’?”
“Yes, I think we know what you’re saying Butters,” Craig said, closing his menu and clasping his hands over top, hoping Butters would get the hint that they were ready to order.
Butters chuckled to himself and pulled out a small notepad and pen from his pockets, “Well, I won’t keep y’all from your date ,” he winked at Tweek, “What can I get y’all to eat?”
“Um,” Tweek started, running his eyes back over his menu to find what he had decided on, “I will take the Agnolotti.”
“Well that’s an excellent choice, Tweek!” Butters exclaimed as he jotted down the order.
He turned and gave Craig a nudge on the shoulder, “And what about you, Mr. Stud Muffin?”
Craig winced as he opened his menu again, squinting at the entrees, brow furrowed, as he traced his finger down the page.
After a brief pause, he decided, “Give me the spaghetti and meatballs, please.”
Butters tittered as he wrote the order on his pad.
“You’ve found yourself a man of good taste, there, Tweek,” he tucked the pad and pen neatly back into his apron pocket, “Alright fellas, I’ll get that put right in. Shouldn’t take too long!”
Butters stepped back and gave the two of them a polite nod before he turned and disappeared behind the partition, typical spring in his step.
Tweek met Craig’s eyes with lifted brows. They both shared a small laugh as Tweek raised his mug to his lips.
“Agnolotti,” Craig said slowly, rolling the word around his tongue, testing how it felt coming out of his mouth, “that sounds really good. What is it?”
Tweek swallowed his coffee and hid a smile behind his napkin, endeared that Craig thought agnolotti sounded tasty just by the name itself.
“It’s a kind of pasta. Sort of like…ravioli? And that one has sweet potato, raisins, and pine nuts in it. I, um, I don’t really eat meat very often. Or ever. At all, really.”
A guilty look flickered over Craig’s face before Tweek waved his hands in front of him hastily.
“I don’t mind if you do though! I don’t really care. It’s kind of like…a thing my parents started. We’re sort of…Buddhists I guess. Or, we follow the Buddha’s teachings. Well- some of them. He said not to eat the flesh of another being. But- I really don’t mind if you do! I’m not one of those like…vegans or anything. It’s kind of become more of a habit than anything now…”
Craig looked relieved and Tweek noticed his lips part, his mouth begin to move, but he couldn’t make out what he was saying for the imp that had once again reappeared next to him.
“ Tweek! ” it hissed from his shoulder, “I am ashamed! You’re just going to let him act like that in front of you?”
Tweek glanced over at Craig, who was carefully picking apart a stick of garlic bread and inspecting it.
“What? He’s not doing anything wrong! I think he looks cu-”
“Not him ! The playboy waiter!”
“What?” Tweek asked, confused. Playboy waiter ? The only waiter he had seen so far was Butters .
“You’re looking spiffy, Craig . You’re a man of good taste, Craig ,” it mimicked in a surprisingly accurate, yet somehow sultry, impression of Butters, “Do I even need to remind you how he was looking at him?”
Tweek rolled his eyes and waved the imp off his shoulder.
“Butters wasn’t flirting with Craig. You’re just trying to ruin my date- leave me alone.”
It dodged Tweek’s hand and fluttered over to the opposite shoulder.
“He’s going to steal your man, Tweek. And you’re just going to sit here and watch it happen.”
“He’s not going to steal anyone-!”
“We already know Craig likes blondes , Tweek.”
“ Shut up, shut up !” Tweek hissed, slinging an arm to bat away at the imp. It soared up to the ceiling and Tweek missed, his elbow knocking against his nearly full glass of water and spilling it. He grabbed clumsily for it but it was no use; it had already sent a stream of icy water over the table and into Craig’s lap.
Craig jumped up in surprise.
“ Gah !” Tweek yelped, “I’m so sorry!”
He leapt up out of the booth, clutching his crumpled napkin in his hand and rushing over to dab it hastily over the wet spot on Craig’s lap, a string of incoherent apologies tumbling from his mouth.
“Tweek, Tweek ,” Craig said, grabbing Tweek by the wrists and stilling his movements, “it’s okay, it’s just a little spill. Let me- let me get some extra napkins and we’ll clean it up.”
Tweek watched Craig’s back helplessly as he left to find a waiter. He fell back into the booth, clutching fistfuls of his hair and huffing exasperatedly.
“I hate you! IhateyouIhateyou !” he whined, gritting his teeth as the now familiar tittering of the imp filled his ears.
“You’re messing everything up!” Tweek cried, laying his face against his arms folded atop the table.
The imp continued to laugh, “I think you’re doing a pretty good job of that yourself. ”
Suddenly, Tweek felt a soft touch on his back. He lifted his head up to see Craig with a wad of napkins clutched in his hand.
“Hey, Tweek. It’s really okay.”
Craig mopped up the mess, grabbing Tweek’s empty glass and sitting it upright, shoving the mess of goopy napkins to the side of the table. He sat back down in the booth and smiled at Tweek, no trace of hostility or annoyance detected.
“Good as new,” he said.
Tweek slumped in his seat. He’d only been with Craig for half an hour and somehow everything was going wrong.
“ He’s leaving with the waiter tonight. You’re going to have to walk home alone, ” the imp sung in his ear.
Tweek growled lowly under his breath.
“ Go away. ”
“Think of how hard you worked to get where you are, Tweek. You’re going to let some little cowboy twink steal it all away from you? I guess it’s all just as well though- he probably gets to keep his tips.”
Tweek stood up abruptly, knocking against the table, causing his mug to rattle dangerously, and pushed his way out of the booth.
“Where are you going?” Craig asked, looking at Tweek curiously.
“I, uh- I have to go to the bathroom!”
Without waiting for a response, Tweek rounded the corner into the main part of the restaurant. He had no idea where he was going, but he figured Butter’s bright blonde hair would be easy to spot.
After a few minutes of weaving in between tables, he caught sight of Butters slipping just beyond the swinging silver doors that led to what was presumably the kitchen.
Sliding through just as the door closed, Tweek reached out and grabbed the knot on the back of Butters apron. He whipped around, surprised, facing Tweek. Immediately, his brow crinkled with worry.
“Well, gee, Tweek. I’m sorry- did ya need something? A refill?”
Tweek took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. He had never noticed it before, but he and Butters were eye to eye, and he found himself wishing not for the first time that he had a couple more inches to him.
“No. No, I don’t need a refill, Butters,” Tweek said, eyes searching Butters for any sign of intimidation. Within his perpetually bright eyes, he found only confusion.
“Okay…so what brings you back here to the kitchen, then?”
“I,” Tweek started, hesitantly. Something fluttering above Butters head caught his eye, and he noticed the imp, grinning maniacally, nodding his head and gesturing for him to continue.
“I- I need to ask you to please stop flirting with Craig.”
Butters paused for a second, glancing behind himself, sure that Tweek must be talking to someone else.
“Flirtin’ with Craig?” he echoed.
“Yes. We are on a date and I’d really appreciate it if you would stop flirting with him in front of me.”
Butters looked at him for a moment longer, then he swiped a hand across his forehead, chuckling softly.
“Golly, Tweek! I wasn’t flirtin’ with Craig!”
Tweek searched Butters face, pure innocence, and felt his shoulders sag.
“You…you weren’t?”
“No! Gee whiz, I’d never do somethin’ like that to somebody on a date! In fact, I actually have me a date tonight, too!”
“You do?” Tweek asked, surprised.
“Sure! He’s gonna pick me up after my shift is over!”
“Oh,” Tweek said, suddenly feeling immensely idiotic.
Of course Butters wasn’t flirting with Craig. Of all the people he knew, Butters was the least malicious. He felt a sickly, hot feeling curdling his stomach, traveling up his neck and spreading across his cheeks.
“It’s alright, buddy,” Butters said, lifting a hand to Tweek’s shoulder, “Craig’s not really my type. In fact, he’s such a beanpole, I’d be liable to break him in half in the bedroom!”
Tweek jerked his head up at that, staring at Butters wide eyed. Butters only stared back, a soft smile on his face. He patted Tweek once on the shoulder.
“Now why don’t you head on back out there to your date? I’ll be back soon with your food!”
Butters skipped away further into the kitchen until Tweek lost sight of him. Standing there alone, he finally noticed the questioning looks and stifled giggles of the cooks and waiters that surrounded him. That sickening feeling in his stomach flared, and with his head down and shoulders slumped, he backed out of the kitchen.
Tweek ducked into the men’s bathroom on the way back to his table, daring a glance in the mirror and cringing at his beet-red face. He rubbed his shaking hands roughly against his cheeks, but was unable to scrub away his embarrassment. He hated confrontation, adamantly avoided it at all costs, to finally muster up the courage and for what? To stand up to Butters ? The guy wouldn’t hurt a ladybug; there wasn’t a nasty bone in his body.
Hands gripping the cold porcelain of the sink, he dropped his head and sucked in a couple of steadying breaths. This date was going horribly. All of the anticipation, the waiting, until Craig had finally asked him out after school last week- for nothing. Oh god , what if Butters told Craig what had happened?
Tweek groaned.
He heard the faraway sound of wheezing laughter, crescendoing until it was right next to his ear and he felt tiny taps on his shoulder. He jerked his head up to look in the mirror, seeing no one but his reflection, before turning to look at the imp on his shoulder, rolling and kicking with mirth, clutching its stomach and gasping for air.
Tweek huffed exasperatedly and threaded his fingers through his hair, “ Urgh ! I hate you! Get out, get out! You are ruining everything! You’ve ruined this whole night!”
“You made a complete… fool of yourself!” it panted between guffaws, catching its tears on a clawed finger.
Tweek growled and swiped at the imp, watching it soar from his shoulder and crash against a stall door. It fell in a crumpled heap against the floor, stunned for only a moment before a nasty grin spread across its face, jagged fangs glinting.
“Hmm,” it purred, “where was that fire when you were trying to defend your man’s honor ?”
Tweek stomped out of the bathroom, slamming the door shut on the imp’s words. As he made his way back to the table where Craig waited, he saw their food had been delivered to the table- two steaming pasta dishes and a colorful plate of bruschetta. Craig was sitting there, staring at his hands in his lap, plate untouched.
Craig glanced up as soon as Tweek reached the table, watching with imploring eyes as he lingered next to the table awkwardly.
“Are you okay?” Craig asked cautiously, “Do you, um, need to go home?”
Tweek took a deep breath.
“No. I’m good.”
Then he decided to do something that he didn’t understand why he did, and slid into the booth on the same side as Craig.
"Oh,” Craig said, surprised, scooching over a bit to give Tweek more room, cheeks pinkening almost imperceptibly.
But Tweek noticed.
Tweek leaned across the table, grasping his plate and coffee and sliding it over in front of him. He unrolled the silverware from the napkin and placed it neatly on his lap before twisting his fork into the pasta and turning to Craig.
“Do you wanna try a bite?” Tweek asked, spearing a thick piece of pasta with his fork and swirling it through the sauce, making sure to pick up a couple of raisins and nuts as well.
“Uh, sure,” Craig agreed, eyeing Tweek’s fork apprehensively as he held it out to him. Tweek watched as Craig leaned forward and closed his lips around the pasta. His teeth scraped along the prongs, a metallic sound that usually would make Tweek cringe, but he was too transfixed to notice.
Craig squeezed his eyes shut and swallowed the bite down thickly, reaching for his rootbeer and taking a long gulp.
“You don’t like it, do you?”
“Why are there raisins in it? Pasta isn’t supposed to be sweet.”
Tweek laughed as he watched Craig scrub his mouth with a napkin, taking another long gulp of rootbeer for good measure. He tucked into his spaghetti, looking much more at ease with his choice of entree. Finally, Tweek’s mind was quiet, there was no weight upon his shoulder, and he fell into easy conversation with Craig.
As they made their way out of the restaurant, only a sparse few tables were still occupied as the night had grown late. Tweek led the way to the exit as Craig followed behind, clutching both of their leftovers neatly packed in to-go boxes.
The parking lot was nearly empty; the snow had continued to fall while they had been inside, blanketing the street in a hush. The only noise they could hear was coming from the lone bench in front of the restaurant- electronic sounds coming from a small device clutched in the gloved hands of the only other person around.
He was unmistakable wrapped in a bright orange parka.
“Kenny?” Tweek asked, stepping closer to the hooded figure.
He looked up, pushing the oversized hood off his head and grinning up at the two with his usual cheeky smile.
“Hey guys!” he stood and wiped the stray snowflakes from his sleeves. Stepping forward, he clapped Tweek on the back.
“What are you playing?” Tweek asked, gesturing toward the Nintendo Switch Kenny held in his hand.
“Heaven versus Hell 2, dude!” he held the game up so Tweek could see, “I’m almost to level sixty!”
“Okay…” Craig said, “But why are you playing here ?”
“Oh,” Kenny said, pushing a few buttons on the device then tucking it into his pocket, “I’m waiting for my date ’s shift to be over. My date has a job.”
Kenny grinned widely, mischievous eyes sparkling.
“Tweek has a job,” Craig said.
“Tweek does have a job,” Kenny agreed, nudging Tweek with his elbow.
He turned to Craig, leaning in surreptitiously, “Guess we both found us some sugar daddies, huh Craig?”
Kenny cackled at Craig’s bewildered look as he thumped him on the back, eventually dissolving into a flurry of coughs.
“Damn,” Kenny rasped, craning his neck to peer over Craig’s shoulder into the window of the restaurant, “Are they closed yet? I’m freezing my ‘nads off out here.”
Tweek hurried to the door and pulled it open, motioning Kenny inside, “You should wait inside. I think they’re pretty much closing up. There weren’t many people left in there.”
“Thanks, Tweek,” Kenny said, patting him on the cheek, “you’re a peach.”
Kenny stepped through the door and into the warmth of the restaurant, spinning back around and pointing at the two of them with finger guns.
“I’ll see you two on Monday.”
Tweek let the door close behind him and glanced up at Craig with raised eyebrows. Craig only shrugged in response.
Soon they were both tucked back into Craig’s car, cranking the heat and blowing hot air into their chilly hands. Craig’s tires scraped across the icy pavement as he flicked his headlights on and took a left out of the parking lot. Just beyond the lot, walking along the sidewalk, Tweek spotted Kenny again, walking in the opposite direction with his arm slung around someone’s shoulders. He had his hood up again, and his companion was dressed smartly in a black peacoat with a teal hat pulled over his ears. Tweek peered out the window to try and catch a glimpse of Kenny’s mystery date.
“Woah!” he exclaimed, turning in his seat and looking out the window as they drove past, “Did you see that?”
“I did see that.” Craig said, as surprised as Tweek had ever seen him.
Tweek leaned back in his seat as he watched the couple grow smaller and smaller in his rearview mirror.
“Butters told me he had a date but I didn’t believe him,” he said.
“When did he say that?” Craig asked.
“Oh,” Tweek said hurriedly, recalling the humiliating scene in the kitchen, “um, he didn’t.”
Tweek felt a small pang in his heart as Craig pulled up to the front of his house and cut the engine, parked in the same spot he had been only a few hours before. He didn’t want the night to be over, felt like it had just started getting good; he grinned to himself as he remembered the cocoa powder dust that had clung to the outline of Craig’s lips as he scraped the plate of their shared dessert clean. Right now, he’d give just about anything if it meant he didn’t have to wake up at the crack of dawn for his opening shift at the coffee house, but his parents weren’t known to be generous when it came to the shop schedule.
He frowned to himself, pausing with a hand on the door handle, leftovers still warm in his lap.
“I can walk you to your door, if that’s okay?” Craig asked, leaning forward and peering past Tweek toward the front porch- the house was dark but a single lantern had been left on to illuminate the front door.
They lingered at the front door, both attempting to ignore the night that had only grown colder around them. Craig’s fists were shoved deep in his coat pockets, teeth quietly chattering and foggy puffs of breath spilling from his pale lips. Tweek dug around in his pocket for the key, and, once finding it, placed his to-go box on the bench next to the door and turned to Craig with a glum shrug.
“Well,” he said after a moment, “I shouldn’t keep you. It’s really cold out here.”
His hand hung limply at his side, half-heartedly clutching the key as he lifted his head to look at Craig.
“It’s okay,” Craig said hurriedly, before clearing his throat and continuing, “um, it’s okay. I’m not that cold.”
“I, uh, had a really good time with you tonight,” Craig continued. Chuckling bashfully, he looked down at his shoes, “I wish it didn’t have to end yet.”
Tweek dared a step closer to Craig.
“Maybe it doesn’t have to end…yet?” Tweek said softly, the end of his sentence lilting into a question.
He hugged his arms around himself, feeling the chill begin to creep into his toes, but he was damned if he was going to walk through that door just yet. He lifted a gentle hand, grasping the bottom of Craig’s jacket, thumb fiddling softly with the zipper.
Craig’s dark eyes looked hopeful as he cautiously took a step toward Tweek, nearly closing the distance, leaving just enough space for their body heat to radiate between them as their hearts pounded against their ribs.
Standing this close to him, Tweek had to lift his head to look Craig in the eye, an uncomfortable crick in his neck but nothing he couldn’t handle for the sake of such a view. Eyes locked, they both shared a shy huff of laughter. Going nearly cross-eyed, Tweek’s gaze dropped to Craig’s lips.
Their lips met, timid and closed mouth, but exciting nonetheless;Tweek felt the curve of Craig’s grin against his own. Both were sorely lacking practice, but their lips moved together tentatively, bodies feeling much warmer than they had just moments ago.
Suddenly, a deafening crack! exploded right over Tweek’s shoulder, leaving his ears ringing and brain rattling. He ripped his lips from Craig’s and drew back, clutching his chest and gasping.
“Jesus Christ ! What was that ?!”
Craig reddened next to him, stepping back quickly and stuttering out an apology that Tweek couldn’t hear as at that very moment another explosion erupted, this time right over Craig’s head.
The imp had returned. It was launching little fireballs into the air that burst above them and showered them in tiny sparks.
“ Fireworks! ” it shrieked with glee, tossing yet another into the air as it exploded in tiny glittering flares of gold, red, and orange. Tweek covered his ears with his hands.
“You always said you wanted fireworks when you had your first kiss!” it yelped, cackling maniacally.
“ Urgh! ” Tweek screeched, seething and glaring where the imp floated just a few inches above Craig’s shoulder, “Why would you do that !?”
Craig glanced from side to side, searching in the still, quiet night for what could have possibly changed Tweek’s demeanor so suddenly. Eyes wide and startled, he backed away from Tweek until his back hit the railing.
“I-I’m sorry Tweek! I thought that maybe you…I guess I misunderstood. I didn’t mean-.”
“ Gah! ” Tweek interrupted, staring as the imp grinned devilishly, poised to launch another firework into the air, “no! No! Urgh! I have to go! ”
Tweek jammed the key into the front door, twisting it nearly hard enough to break off in the lock, and rushed inside. He slammed the door frantically behind him, leaving his to-go box sitting on the bench and a bewildered Craig alone on the front porch.
Craig stormed up the stairs to his bedroom, ignoring his mom’s call of “ how did it go? ” from the living room. She had obviously waited up for him, but he hoped that was enough of an answer for her and she would not press him any further on details of his disastrous date.
He scowled at himself in the mirror, raking his fingers through his neatly combed hair, roughing it up until it was back to its usual, unkempt state.
“ So , where is he? You didn’t invite him in a for a night cap ?” a saucy voice called from somewhere behind him.
Craig didn’t turn around, continuing to glare at his own reflection in the mirror.
“It was our first date !” he groaned, “and thanks to you , there probably won’t be a second one. I should have never listened to any of your stupid advice!”
He whirled around to face the apparition he had first grown familiar with about seven years ago. It was a version of himself he discovered sometime around the fourth grade. It would often appear when Craig had a problem that his three best friends or gruff but well-meaning father couldn’t quite help him with. It had been hanging around ever since it learned that Craig had decided to ask his lab partner out on a date- the boy he had grown up with but only just started to look at it a different way.
The apparition was a pint-sized, ersatz version of himself with a sarcastic bite. It stood straighter than he did, its skin was perfectly moisturized and blemish free. Not a single black hair stood out of place as it sat crossed-legged, wrapped in a thick magenta robe with an fuzzy purple collar, peering through oversized rose-colored glasses from the edge of Craig’s bed.
“Why are you wearing sunglasses? It’s night time,” Craig scoffed.
The apparition squinted up at him, lifting a well-manicured hand to its brow to shield its eyes.
“Your cheap fluorescent lights hurt my eyes,” it quipped.
“Whatever,” Craig rolled his eyes and turned back to the mirror, scrunching his face up and rubbing a hand roughly across the skin of his forehead, smudging the concealer he had pilfered from his mother’s vanity before the date.
“Your stupid makeup trick didn’t work either. He noticed the the zit immediately. It didn’t even cover it up!”
“ Well, that’s because you’re a winter, honey, not a spring,” the apparition said, now hovering over his right shoulder, slowly shaking its head in pity.
Craig growled and shoved the apparition aside, stomping over to his dresser. He jerked open each drawer and grabbed whatever was on the top of the pile.
“And this,” he grunted as he yanked his sweater up over his head in one motion, “ monkey suit you had me wear!”
Clutching the crumpled sweater in his first, he glared at it with disdain, “I looked ridiculous!”
He hastily unbuttoned his undershirt and shucked off his slacks, tossing it all in a heap into the laundry hamper at the foot of his bed.
The apparition let out a scandalized gasp and dove into the hamper after the clothes. Resurfacing, it plucked a smelly gym sock from its head before lifting the sweater gingerly, staring at Craig mouth agape and outraged.
“This is one hundred percent cashmere . You hand wash this, you animal !”
It delicately draped the sweater over the back of Craig’s desk chair, smoothing it out with its small hands and frantically searching for any damage.
Craig, now much more comfortable in a pair of boxers, a faded Futurama t shirt with a hole in the armpit, and white tube socks, sunk dejectedly onto his mattress, burying himself in the blankets and pulling his comforter up to his chin.
The apparition watched him with pity, floating over to Craig and sitting atop the alarm clock on his bedside table.
“You’re being very dramatic, you know,” it said.
“You’re one to talk,” came Craig’s muffled response.
The apparition tapped on Craig’s phone screen, easily bypassing any security features because there were none, and began browsing through the app store.
“We’ll find you someone else. I’m sure there are plenty of closeted boys within a hundred mile radius who would love for you to be their gay awakening.”
It lazily scrolled through the long list of apps as Craig glared at the ceiling. After a few moments of silence, the apparition let out a pleased hum.
“ Ooh, this one sounds nice,” it clicked download, “ Grindr .”
Craig scowled and rolled heavily over onto his side, facing away from the specter version of himself, yanking his blanket completely over his head, “I don’t want someone else. I wanted Tweek !”
Just then, a small chirp came from Craig’s phone, laying inconspicuously between the two on his night stand.
Slowly, Craig lowered the blanket from over his face, eyes locking with the apparition before sliding back to the phone as it buzzed a second time.
Craig slung an arm over the nightstand just as the apparition dove for the phone. Caught in a short battle of tug-o-war, Craig finally ripped the phone from its clutches and opened his messages to see who the text was from.
Tweek:
hey im sorry i was weird tonight
i think it was bc i was rly nervous
i would like to go out again sometime if u want to
i rly enjoyed hanging out with u
especially that last part
:)
“Well, well, well ,” the apparition drawled as it peered over Craig’s shoulder to read the messages, crossing its arms smugly and leaning cockily against Craig’s lamp, “it looks like all of that advice you so desperately begged me for did work.”
Craig typed out a quick reply back to Tweek and sat his phone back on the nightstand. He settled back into bed, switching the lamp off and surrounding them both in darkness before the apparition could see the astoundingly relieved grin on his face.
Recalling the image of Tweek standing on his front porch, illuminated by the soft glow of the lantern, lips so inviting and waiting to be kissed, Craig pulled the satin magenta sleeping mask, a gift, over his eyes and fell fast asleep.