Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Dude. That looks bad.”

Craig grunted, shooting a look at Clyde that would incinerate a sensible person on impact. Clyde being Clyde, he didn't so much as flinch.

He’d flip him off, but one hand was busy gripping his left arm, which had decided it no longer wanted one of its bones to stay inside it.

“What’s going on?” The Equipment-based hero, Toolshed/Magma/Dissever or whatever moniker the guy was using at the moment, stopped in his tracks and looked downright queasy at the sight of Craig’s arm.

“He broke his arm,” Clyde told him, which is totally unfair because that made it sound like it was Craig’s fault to begin with.

He was sweating now, and clammy, and his head hurt from where he smacked it on a parked car.

“That wasn’t my fault,” He snapped, feeling dizzy from just speaking. “Guy kicked me off the truck.”

He wasn’t sure they were listening. Dissever was staring down at Craig’s arm in morbid fascination. “That’s disgusting.”

“Well, fuck you for being an unhelpful dick,” Craig tried to launch himself up to a sitting position and look a bit more dignified, but ended up immediately heaving instead.

Dissever and Clyde winced. Clyde twisted his hat in his hands.

“We need to go to a hospital,” Clyde said slowly, unconvinced.

“Can’t,” Craig managed, spitting on the sidewalk. “They’ll ask what I was doing.”

“Skateboarding?” Dissever suggested.

“He’s too much of a nerd for sports,” Clyde said, very unfairly.

“I was on the swim team!” He reminded his idiot of a best friend, who shrugged.

“For like a summer, sure.”

“Say you got into a fight,” Terabyte, the technological Girl Wonder and Kicker of Ass was cruising up now, surveying the situation. “You’re young, dumb, and a boy. They’ll think it was some kind of schoolyard fight.”

“Saying you got into a fight is already code for ‘I’m practicing vigilantism, please arrest me!’” Craig argued. “That happened with Kite.”

Dissever did not look happy at the mention of his regular superhero partner. “Whatever. That wasn’t his fault.”

“And it’s not mine either!” Craig protested. “Forget it. I’ll go home and…figure some shit out.”

“Yeah, your bones are literally poking out of your skin right now,” Terabyte surveyed the wound with intrigued disgust. “Don’t worry. With Kite laying low for now, I have another contact I can put you in touch with.”

Clyde perked up. Craig narrowed his eyes.

Not that Tera was known for stabbing people in the back, but he hardly ever worked with her. Or Dissever, but these two assholes showed up unannounced and- well-

“Here.”

The Electronic hero apparently wasn’t averse to using old school technology, because she handed Clyde a physical piece of paper.

“Go to this address,” She said, gently moving Stan away from the two boys. “It’s a coffee shop…go around back, knock on the door, if it’s a grown man make up something and go-”

“What’s with all these-”

“-You want to talk to the guy. Our age, blond. He's cute in a different kind of way. Blue eyes, one’s colored half brown. You can tell him you’re a friend of mine, but…” Tera winces at Craig’s arm. “I doubt you’ll need to.”

Getting up and walking was a chore, but the shop wasn’t far.

Clyde was able to turn his sweater inside out, ditch his hat, but Craig didn’t want to think about attempting to take his shirt off.

“I’m going to fucking die,” He told Clyde, pale and sweating. “She’s set us up to die.”

“Just hang in there,” Clyde encouraged nervously. “Dude. I wish Tolkien wasn’t out of town, he would’ve totally had someone we could go to-”

“I need to sit down,” Craig said, and moved to do so, but Clyde grabbed his other arm roughly and gave him a little shake.

“Don’t!” He demanded, fingers clawing into Craig’s shirt. “It’s just around the corner, don’t give up yet!”

“I need to sit down,” Craig couldn’t see straight anymore, and everything was fuzzy at the edges. His mouth was dry and he was fucking freezing. He needed a rest. “Give me five minutes.”

“No.” Clyde’s grip hurt, now, and while the boy was far shorter than Craig he was also a lot stockier. He began bullying Craig down the street, heeding no attention to his (admittedly pathetic) whining.

Craig’s legs were shaking by the time they got to the back of the building.

It was still somewhat daylight and hot as balls. He knew it was hot as balls but he still couldn’t stop shivering, sagging against a dumpster and trying desperately not to throw up again as a wrecked Clyde began banging on the door.

Craig stared at him, beginning to slide down the rust-roughened surface onto the asphalt. He needed a drink of water. And a nap. And to find the assholes they beat up today and beat them up again for making him suffer this much. And then to go home and feed his children. They were probably waiting for their evening kale.

“What the fuck!”

The shrill squawk wasn’t the endearing noise of his beloved guinea pigs, but it was sharp enough to startle him out of his daze.

Craig stared up at the blond guy, Clyde twisting his hands behind him.

“What the fuck happened to your arm?!” The blond asked, stooping next to Craig among the garbage and debris. “Oh my god, that’s disgusting.”

He was really starting to get offended now. It was his fucking arm, he didn’t go around wearing it like this normally.

“Hey, fuck you too,” Craig managed. “Everyone lay off my arm.”

Oddly enough, the boy snorted.

He was interesting looking. Bit too fuzzy at the edges to look at his weird eyes, but he was weird.

He had nice, sharp, masculine features, but also long blond hair in absolute disarray. He might have freckles, his eyesight was getting a bit too bleary to notice, and was worrying his lip in his crooked teeth.

Blearily, Craig ran his tongue over his own teeth, permanently fucked up after his braces were taken off too early.

“You weren’t kidding,” The guy was saying to Clyde. “Jesus. Hold still.”

Craig, even in his delirious state, knew when a healer said ‘hold still’ you were in for a world of hurt.

The pain helped, though. He groaned, body tensing against the shock, and as he stared up at the sky he could feel his mind clear slightly.

“Who the hell are you?” He asked, trying to focus really hard on the nearest electric post.

“Tweek,” The blond said, voice trembling slightly with effort. “Mosquito said you fell off a truck.”

He did?! How fucking dare he.

“I was kicked off a truck,” He said, shooting a nasty look at Clyde. “I was trying to stop it from slamming into an intersection.”

“Well…” Tweek was holding his arm, he realized, but his other hand hovered oddly over his broken bones. “Did you stop it?”

Craig stared into his face, boney and dark eyebags and a definite sprinkle of freckles.

“Yeah,” He said, and got the strangest urge to talk himself up a little. Maybe to compensate for Clyde’s inaccurate commentary. “Jumped on the back of it as it passed. It’s how the bone busted through the skin- broke into the cab, stopped the car with one hand.”

Tweek’s eyes flit from his arm up to Craig’s, a grin showing off those crooked, ugly teeth. “Oh yeah?”

Heat fluttered in Craig’s stomach. “Yeah.”

“Nice.” His eyes really were two different colors. Prettier than what Tera made it sound, though. “How’d you hurt your head?”

Oh yeah.

“Hit it on a car when I fell off the truck,” He said.

Tweek grunted and made no further comments, to his great disappointment.

The pain was getting worse. Craig cringed against the dumpster, away from Tweek’s hand, which he realized was dripping water on his arm.

“Are you sweating on me?” He said, disgusted, and rather unfairly for someone who was currently sweating buckets.

“That’s freaking cool,” Clyde said, peering over Tweek to see.

“It’s not sweat, it’s condensation,” The blond said, offended. “It’s rain. And hold still, the worst is coming.”

“Great,” Craig lightly smacked his head against the dumpster to keep from screaming. “Love this. Love healing. Getting my bones snapped and snapped back into place makes me so happy.”

“Just keep your voice down when it does,” Tweek warned him. “My parents can’t know you’re here.”

What? Craig was panting, staring up at the blond as he tried to work the words through the haze. He lived at home with his parents? Maybe he was younger than eighteen. He looked Craig’s age, though. Maybe not. Maybe he just lived at home, and liked it, unlike Craig who was loving living away from home even if he had to share the apartment with Clyde for now. Weird, though. Some kind of…illegal drug dealer healer. Dealer healer.

“You need to breathe, dude,” Tweek told him. “Stop holding your breath.”

He wasn’t doing this on purpose. And he was good at holding his breath.

“I was on the swim team,” He blurted, that conversation still at the front of his mind.

“Yeah?” Tweek’s eyes flit back to him again, briefly, a confused but small smile on his face.

“In high school,” Craig said through gritted teeth. “So was my sister. On the girl’s team.”

“Cool,” The Healer said. “I thought you looked like you did sports.”

“He does?”

Craig was going to kick Clyde when he got up.

“Is your sister into hero work, too?”

“No,” Craig panted, “Just me. Little asshole wants to go to college instead.”

Tweek made a scratchy, grating sound that he realized with a flood of warmth was a chuckle. He got him to laugh.

“Honestly I want to go for astrophysics,” Craig blurted, “But I want to have fun and shit first before I get tied down.”

“What’s that?” Tweek asked. “Planes? Flight?”

“No”, said Craig derisively. “It’s space. Planets, stars, galaxies. Reading radio waves and shit.”

“Oh. That’s actually pretty cool.”

“Yeah, I think so,” He managed. “Like there’s all kinds of cool shit you don’t get to learn just in school or anything, there’s so much we don’t know and haven’t explored-”

“Like alien life,” Clyde supplied helpfully.

“Alien life. Black holes, odd signals coming from the depths of space. It’s fucking awesome.”

“You believe in aliens?”

He didn’t look like he was making fun of Craig, but you never knew. He stared into the guy’s face, ignoring the sharp burn happening around his broken elbow.

“Yeah.” He stared all the harder, but Tweek didn’t even look at him. “But you like…have to be really good at like math and physics and shit. To be an astrophysicist.”

Tweek grunted wordlessly, then looked him right in the eyes.

“This is going to hurt,” He said calmly, right before Craig’s vision went white.

He didn’t know if he passed out or if his brain just decided to jump offline for a couple seconds, but the next thing he knew, Clyde was sitting next to him holding his good hand while Tweek sat back on his heels and surveyed him with frantic eyes.

“Oh, good,” Relief flooded pretty, mismatched eyes. “I didn’t kill you.”

Craig stared at him. “Was that a fucking worry?”

Tweek shrugged.

Craig checked his arm. He still had blood and tears in his sweater, but pulling up the sleeve his skin was now healing-raw-red and sealed over. He could move it with minimal soreness.

“You definitely need to be careful for a couple days,” Tweek said, taking his arm again. Without the pain, Craig could feel how firm but careful his grip was. “Bone’s set and healed, but there’s always nerve damage and shit to worry about. If it’s not better in a couple days, better see a real healer.”

Even if it fell off, he definitely wouldn’t.

“Sure.”

Tweek smiled at him like he knew. His nose wrinkled slightly, a childish sort of charm in his peach-fuzz, angled face. He had freckles all over his nose. Craig couldn’t stop looking at him.

“Thanks,” Clyde said when Craig proved to be useless. “Seriously, that was terrifying.”

“Yeah, you’re welcome,” Tweek stood, stretching.

He wasn’t even winded. Not many people could heal like that and even stay on their feet…this guy was tough shit.

Craig stood up as well, finding he towered over this guy as well. Not as bad as Clyde, but Tweek still had to tilt up his head to look at him.

He was so skinny, he made Craig look well built. He had nice shoulders, though. Broad. Really bushy, heavy eyebrows. One raised at him, and he realized he had been staring for a pretty long time at this point.

“Craig,” He said. Clyde’s jaw dropped. “Thanks.”

Tweek’s other brow shot up to join the other, and he twitched oddly. Whatever surprise he had at first died down, however, and he slid a boney, long-fingered hand into a firm handshake.

“Tweek Tweak,” He said. “Don’t comment on it, I didn’t get to choose.”

A stupid grin fought its way on Craig’s face. “That’s so dumb.”

“The guy who’s falling off cars in the middle of hero fights shouldn’t call other people dumb,” Tweek threw back. “I saved your ass just now. You owe me.”

“Oh.” Clyde’s gaze connected with Craig’s and both realized the same thing at the same time.

Healing wasn’t cheap. Cheaper than the American Healthcare system, sure, and that was probably why it was outlawed, but it definitely cost more than the eight dollars Craig had in his pocket right now.

“I…” Craig stared down at Tweek. “I’m broke. I don’t get paid until next Friday.”

“I have like…five dollars,” Clyde said mournfully.

The blond rolled his eyes, a twitchy smile on his face. “Yeah, I’m not really surprised.”

“Hey!” Craig said.

“Easy,” Tweek poked him, hard, in the arm he just healed. “You do owe me. If I need a favor.”

Really? That was it?

Craig squinted at him, but Tweek didn’t look suspicious. Or annoyed. In fact, he looked strangely pleased.

“Okay,” he said slowly.

“Right now, I need to get back to work. My parents will literally kill me.”

Only then did it register that Tweek was in uniform. An apron was draped over the back steps, of course, and the guy was dressed in nice slacks and rolled-up sleeves that exposed strong forearms.

“Well,” Craig blurted as Tweek stooped to pick up his apron. “Good thing you're such an insane, crazy-good healer.”

It sounded dumb, even to his ears, but Tweek shot a look over his shoulder that seemed fairly approving.

“Yeah, yeah, sure,” The boy waved him off. “I get that you’re broke, Craig, you can cut that shit out.”

His insides squirmed pleasantly, and he bit the inside of his cheek to keep from saying anything else dumb.

“Thanks for helping us out,” Clyde spoke up as Tweek passed, offering a sheepish grin. “Sorry for freaking out on you.”

Tweek offered the guy a nice kind of smile, waving him off as he opened the back door back up. “Sure. Bye, guys.”

And he closed the door behind him.

Craig surveyed his sweater again. He was definitely going to have to throw this into the garbage. All the bleach in the world wasn’t taking these stains out.

Clyde took a deep breath, then walked over to Craig, grinning broadly.

And punched him in the arm.

“Hey, what the fuck!” Craig shoved him, cradling his newly-healed arm. “I just got this fixed. Don’t make me have to call that guy back out to sweat on me.”

“What do you mean ‘that guy’?” Clyde’s dark blue eyes sparkled with glee. “Dude. You two practically know each other’s entire history, you didn’t forget his name already.”

Craig jolted, sending a wary look towards the door and hastily steering Clyde back down the street.

“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about,” He said gruffly. “I hate when you go to healers and you just sit there, staring at nothing, total silence-”

“Oh, don’t give me that bullshit,” Clyde looked back over his shoulder at the alley. “You literally could not stop flirting with him the whole time.”

“That was not flirting”

“Sure,” Clyde’s look was so smarmy Craig could’ve smacked him back. “You just told him your name, that you were into sports, that you’re so smart and into physics and space and that you’re good at math and you got soooo hurt being a Good Guy Hero stopping cars with one hand with your big muscles and shit-”

“Hey!” Craig’s heart thudded in his chest. “Shut up! I don’t even remember that, I was busy fucking bleeding out.”

Clyde didn’t look like he was buying that for a second.

“Right, dude, sure.”

Dammit. He was definitely spreading this around their group, and now Jimmy and Tolkien were definitely going to be reaching out and heckling him about the healer kid.

Listen, it wasn’t even a big deal. It all could be explained away by him being in intense pain and needing something to focus on. Really, he should be lucky he hadn’t shared his address and social security. He hadn’t blabbed Clyde’s identity all over the place, so honestly he did pretty great all things considered.

He was definitely also not thinking about how good-looking the guy was, how he jumped into action despite being freaked out at a bleeding kid laying all over the concrete, and definitely wasn’t thinking about how if he got hurt again, he was definitely going back.

Because that would be super pathetic and embarrassing.

“I’ll say though,” Clyde said, startling Craig, “That was scary as shit, dude. I thought you were really going to die on me.”

“You wish,” Craig said lightly, but Clyde’s lips twisted.

“Nah,” The brunet scratched the back of his neck. “Seriously. I literally grabbed the poor guy and began crying at him.”

Craig snorted.

“You looked bad, though. Can’t believe he healed you and walked off like that.”

“Yeah,” Craig shoved his hands in his pockets. “Must be a decent healer or something.”

“Mm.” Clyde didn’t seem ready to tease him again, too lost in thought.

“Reminded me of mom,” He said, dropping that bomb between them with no warning, “The way your face looked. When I was telling you to keep walking.”

Craig froze, staring at the back of Clyde’s head as they continued walking.

Ever since his mom died- and she’d died, like…ages ago- he’d maybe heard Clyde mention her a dozen times or so. Like, total. It was a subject that Clyde still struggled with, Craig wasn’t so detached that he didn’t understand that.

He didn’t know what to say. ‘Sorry’ sounded off, he didn’t exactly get hurt on purpose. He didn’t know what else to say, though.

He settled for clapping Clyde on the back, roughly, and letting his hand linger there longer than necessary. Touch was easier than words.

The pinched look in his face eased, so maybe that was the right thing to do. He hoped so. He was one of Craig’s oldest friends, and he definitely owed Clyde something for making sure they got to the healing house without Craig collapsing in the middle of the street.

He’d try not to get too irritated at him when the text messages came slamming in later tonight, anyway. Good start.

Chapter Text

“What, did you finally come to pay me?”

The snark was totally unnecessary as is, the smarmy look on the guy’s face and the hands on skinny hips was just overkill.

Craig scowled, thrusting a hand out towards the healer.

Tweek squinted in the darkness, face turning disgusted pretty quick.

“What the fuck did you do to your hand?” The healer hopped off the back steps of the coffee shop, groaning as he got to Craig. “Jesus Christ. I’m going to throw up looking at it.”

“Didn’t have much of a choice,” Craig grunted, “Don’t be a big baby about it.”

He knew the accusation was totally unfair, because he was avoiding looking at his hand and it’s oddly-bent fingers also. But goddamn, the guy was so bitchy for someone who had to see tons of injuries all the time in this business.

“Didn’t have much of a choice,” Tweek mocked under his breath, making an odd little flick of his wrist. “Please.”

Craig watched, intrigued, as mist seemed to appear under Tweek’s palm, finally becoming heavy enough to drip onto Craig’s hand.

Ruby once spilled an entire bottle of nail polish remover on his shirtsleeve once. It felt kind of like that- like your skin was absorbing it, cold and too quick to really feel.

When his bones began rearranging himself, he got too queasy to watch anymore and he looked up, staring at the low-hanging clouds hiding the stars.

“Guy was coming at us fast,” Craig said, bracing against the pain, “I didn’t fucking know he was like…I dunno, made of rock or some shit. Maybe super tough skin. This is just from punching the guy.”

“Seriously?” Tweek tsked his tongue, a light little noise. “Almost done. Stop holding your breath, dude, you just make it worse.”

Craig exhaled, shoulders dropping from their tight hold. “I was just thinking.”

“Sure,” Tweek paused in the healing, inspecting his hand. “How does that feel?”

He had such cold, boney fingers. That ought to be a put-off, only that he was holding Craig’s hand in his firmly, confidently, running his fingers over the ligaments and pushing back fingers with care.

He flipped Craig’s hand over, pressing fingers against his palm, and Craig stared down at their two hands, his still-blood-smeared knuckles held in clean, careful hands.

“You’re holding your breath again, man.”

Craig realized too late that he never answered the question, too busy staring at the guy like a fucking moron.

“Feels fine,” He mumbled, taking his hand back and curling his fingers a few times. “Sore.”

“Normal,” Tweek stood back, crossing his arms as he regarded him. “So. Payment?”

“...What’s the cost?” Craig said flatly, “You take insurance? Payment plans?”

“Uh huh,” Tweek’s odd, mismatched eyes narrowed. “One second. Do this:”

He mimed curling his fingers, which Craig mimicked.

“Squeeze.”

Craig squeezed.

“Tight as you can.”

He obeyed.

“Now,” Tweek made a swinging motion towards his own smarmy expression, “Punch yourself hard as you can in your stupid face.”

“Oh, fuck you, man,” Craig flipped him off instead. “Hero work doesn’t exactly pay us anything.”

“You should get to work on that astrophysics degree then, huh?” Tweek shot back with gleaming eyes.

Why that sent heat crawling up Craig’s neck, he didn’t even want to know.

“Well-” He blustered, drawing himself up to his full height, “What about a different method of payment?”

The smarmy look dropped off Tweek’s face as if Craig had slapped it off, and instead his eyes became large.

Horror gripped Craig as he realized exactly how that could come across.

“I mean!” Holy shit it sounded like he was trying to come onto him like, ferociously out here. He wasn’t about to suck anyone’s dick out by the dumpsters or anything. “Is there- I’m a Brawler, is there any- I can help, or-”

“Oh, jesus.” The horror left Tweek’s face as the blond laughed. “Uh…let me get back to you on that, okay?”

God he fucked this up.

“Yep.”

Tweek lifted both his shoulders, arms crossed incredibly tightly. His too-polite smile was twitching oddly. “I’m going back to work.”

“Sure.”

Once Tweek had shut the door, Craig fled. Oh god that was humiliating.

He jogged back down the street, face burning as he inspected his hand. No more injuries, because he was never, ever coming back again.

-

Tweek stared at him.

Craig tried to pick the leaves out of his hair, wincing as the movement opened the wounds on his arm.

“Craig.”

The Brawler tried not to wince. “Yeah, what?”

“Seriously, man, what is wrong with you?”

He shot Tweek a nasty look, but the other was already walking towards him with a resigned look on his face.

“You’re covered in leaves,” Tweek twitched oddly, yanking one out of Craig’s sweater. “Just the cuts?”

“Yeah,” Craig avoided Tweek’s gaze, not that he’d admit it, staring instead over his head at the back door. “Wouldn’t bother you over dumb shit, but my parents are visiting today, so-”

“Ah.” Tweek’s hand made an odd movement, lightly hitting Craig’s forearm before settling again. “I get it. Hold still- I barely know where to start, dude.”

“Yeah.” Craig held out both arms, letting Tweek work on healing the small, numerous cuts.

Neither of them spoke. Tweek’s hands fluttered from his wrist up to the crook of his elbow, to his shoulder, across his chest to his other arm.

Craig tried not to flinch. Or think about how grateful he was that Tweek didn’t ask him to take off his shirt.

“Your parents,” Tweek’s voice was higher than normal, teetering on nervous. “Do they…know you do hero work?”

“Oh, fuck no,” Craig said immediately. “They’d kill me.”

“Ah.” Tweek grit his teeth. “Do they…know you’re not in school?”

“That they know, yeah.”

Tweek grunted in response. Craig finally looked at him again.

He was still healing, but his gaze seemed glazed and faraway. He was deep in thought and he had the suspicion it wasn’t about heroics or tragic injuries.

Craig spared another glance towards the backdoor. Then back at Tweek.

“Your parents know you do healing for dumbasses like me?” He asked.

He expected Tweek to get prickly. The crooked, toothy grin was unexpected but totally welcome as the blonde peered up at him.

“You think I’d be working out of my back door if they did?”

Fair point.

Craig didn’t offer a single word of complaint as Tweek finished up, surveying his work with satisfaction.

His skin didn’t even have a mark on it. He pulled aside the cuts in the sweater, looking down at totally-unblemished and not-sliced-to-ribbons skin.

“Dude, that’s fucking awesome,” Craig said easily.

“Whatever,” Tweek said, pleased. “Now your parents won’t kill you tonight.”

“Yeah, appreciate that,” The darked-haired boy took a breath. “So…”

“You can’t pay me,” Tweek said wryly. “I’m so surprised.”

“Shut up,” Craig said automatically. “Listen, I don’t…I don’t have a ton of money right now is all, and I know that Healing isn’t cheap, even if you make it look easy-”

“You’re going to pay me in compliments?” Tweek teased him. “I guess I’ll take it.”

Craig paused.

If he could flirt like a normal human being, he’d drop one casually just now. About how fucking strong Tweek had to be to heal and go about his day as usual where it would disable others. How good-looking he was. How he wasn’t afraid to sass Craig right back when the other gave him attitude. How damn interesting he was, how cute his smile is, how much Craig liked talking to him even if it was all teasing and snark.

How much he’d like to get to know him better.

But no. Because he was Craig, an emotionally-immature and terrified young man, he instead left the area immediately.

Tweek seemed surprised, staring after him even though he didn’t call him back.

Craig pulled his hat down further over his forehead, wishing he could cover his whole face with it and smother himself to death because he was singly the most embarrassing person on the planet.

No more going back. Tweek had shit going on, and probably had way better things to do than tend to his wounds for free. No more taking advantage. He had to go.

-

He could have kept to that promise. He really intended to, honestly, but he was walking home from the store. And sure, he should have just kept walking but he took the shortcut out of curiosity’s sake only. Just curious.

It wasn’t a big detour or anything, he just meant to pass by. But Tweek had been outside tossing insane amounts of trash bags into the dumpster and Craig was headed over before he really thought about it.

“Isn’t it kind of late to be out here,” He asked, and Tweek flinched so hard he smacked against the dumpster.

“Jesus FUCKING Christ!” Tweek screeched, gripping at his chest. “Craig! What the fuck?!”

Yeah, he definitely made the wrong call here.

“Sorry,” He held up his hands full of grocery bags. “I didn’t mean to scare you-”

“By sneaking up behind me in the fucking dark?” Tweek snapped, leaning back against the dumpster. “Holy shit.”

“I wasn’t sneaking!” Craig insisted. “I’m carrying like 500 bags of groceries how the hell did you not hear me?”

“I’m kind of busy,” Tweek crabbed, pausing when he saw Craig set his bags down. “What are you doing?”

“Helping,” Craig grunted, hefting a trash bag into his hand. “Dude, what the fuck is in these? Dead bodies?”

“Worse, coffee grounds,” Tweek laughed scratchily, fluttered his hands. “You don’t have to help, I got it-”

“Yeah, I know.”

He continued tossing away bags anyway. Tweek didn’t argue. In fact, the bastard let him throw them all away by himself.

It gave him a couple minutes to think. What was he going to say if Tweek asked him why he was here? Saying ‘I wanted to see you’ was not only creepy, but pretty cringe. He’d die before letting that off his tongue. ‘Just passing through’ was embarrassingly lame. ‘Didn’t even notice where I was’ sounded like he was dumb, and if Tweek needed more convincing that he was an idiot, this wasn’t it-

“Who the fuck eats that much kale?”

Craig looked over, where Tweek was apparently judging his grocery choices with great delight.

The guy grinned up at him from where he was crouched on the asphalt. “I didn’t think you were a health guy.”

Craig wasn’t sure if he should be insulted or not.

“I’m not,” He mumbled, going back to throwing the trash out. “It’s for my pigs.”

“Your what?”

“My guinea pigs.”

He didn’t care how much he liked Tweek. If the guy made fun of him, he was going into the dumpster next.

But no, Tweek was at his elbow as quickly as if he’d transported.

“Show me,” He demanded.

Craig had never been happier to oblige.

He dropped the last bag in, wiping his grimy hands on his jeans before taking out his phone and going to the folder where he kept Stripe and Spot’s pictures.

“Oh my god,” Tweek peered over his arm, broad grin lit by the phone. “You have two?”

“Yeah,” Craig was going to let Tweek hold his phone, but he kind of liked this. “Stripe and Spot. Stripe is three, Spot just turned one.”

He tilted the phone towards Tweek, letting the other scroll through.

“That’s so cute,” Tweek said, and he said it without being an asshole about it at all. He sounded totally sincere. “So they’re who the kale is for?”

“Oh yeah, they lose their shit over it,” Craig told him. “And cucumbers. Apples. Sweet potato. I tried giving them both blueberries but it’s meh. Stripe'll eat anything but Spot’s a picky little bastard.”

Tweek scrunched his eyebrows. “The calico is a boy?”

“Well, yeah. They’re not cats, they’re guinea pigs.”

Tweek didn’t look all too convinced by that, but he didn’t press. He admired a video of the two little assholes nibbling on Craig’s sweater sleeve and backed off a bit.

Craig pocketed his phone, meeting Tweek’s eyes.

The guy was smiling, that twitchy, affectionate smile with furrowed brows. Craig wasn’t sure exactly what to say, so he started gathering up his grocery bags.

“You’re not hurt today?”

“Nope,” Craig said. “It’s a goddamn miracle.”

Tweek laughed, a nice, easy laugh.

“No payment either,” Craig said, trying to get him to laugh again. “Spent it all on guinea pig food.”

“Well, I’d hate to have Stripe and Spot starve,” Tweek said, smiling. “I guess I can be paid in guinea pig pictures and free labor.”

“Cool,” Craig said, deadpan, and began quickly jogging away. “Glad the debt is paid off.”

“Hey, wait, that’s not- hold on- Craig!”

Craig ducked his head, hiding his grin as Tweek hollered after him in an annoyed tone.

God, the guy was so fucking cute. He’d show up to his place every fucking day with guinea pig pictures and big Brawler muscles of steel if it meant Tweek liked having him around the same way Craig liked hanging around. Easy shit.

-

He didn’t go back for a while, but when he did, he had the perfect thing to say.

Surem Craig’s wrapped-up sweater was pressed against his bleeding forehead, but he was in genuinely happy spirits.

He was gonna rock up, totally chill and unmoved. Knock on the door and be all Hey, since we’re starting from zero, now- and Tweek was probably going to call him an idiot but he was going to help anyway because he was a decent guy and seemed to care if Craig bled out or not.

So when the door swung open and he saw Tweek, he was disappointed for a split second that the guy didn’t let him speak.

“Right now?!” Tweek hissed at him, grabbing him with jittery hands. “Let’s go.”

And he steered Craig around to behind the dumpsters.

“Hi, what?” Craig said, wincing when Tweek tore away the sweater. “Ow, dude, what the hell?”

“Sorry!” Tweek said, voice pitchy even as he whispered. “Just stay quiet, let’s get this done.”

He was twitchy. I mean, Craig had noticed he was kind of twitchy from the start, but today it was bad.

Tweek was sweating, his fingers shaking, and his whole body seemed to jerk ever so often. He winced every time it happened, and Craig couldn’t keep himself from asking.

“Are you okay?” He said, and was leveled with a frantic look.

“No!” Tweek snapped. “Sit down!”

Craig sent a disgruntled look at the filthy ground, but sat anyway.

Tweek’s hands came to Craig’s head, and now Craig could see the dark circles under his eyes.

“I can’t talk today,” He said, “My Dad will not leave me alone and he’s going to come looking for me in a minute so we gotta get you out of here.”

“Oh.” He didn’t know what to say. “Sucky day?”

“To say the least!” Tweek bit his lip, bracing against another twitch. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine, Tweek.”

Tweek’s breath left him in a strained pant, so unlike his normal major-healing-is-easy-for-me demeanor that Craig was getting genuinely concerned.

“I can go,” He blurted, “I don’t want you to get in trouble or anything.”

The look Tweek shot him was so shocked that it made him feel self conscious.

“It’d be shitty,” Craig mumbled. “I don't want-”

“No, it’s fine,” Tweek seemed to calm down slightly, gaze a little more focused. “I’d just worry about you running around bleeding everywhere, anyway.”

Ah. Craig stared, unable to think of a single good, cool thing to say in reply. He’d be worried about him. Damn. Okay.

In the end, he said nothing, just sat like a Good Boy and let Tweek seal the jagged fucking cut in his head.

“You’re a mess,” Tweek said, trying to wipe him with the sweater. “How the hell do you always get so beat up, man?”

“I’m the tank,” Craig grumbled. “I take hits and dish it out.”

Tweek twitched sharply, but the slight smile was back on his lips. “I’m going to give you a doctor’s note telling everyone else to fuck off. Give you a break.”

That actually got Craig to smile. “You could come with me, sometime, you know. Keep me from keeling over when I’m punching the shit out of things.”

Tweek looked him in the eyes a brief moment before looking away. “I wish. I can’t, and if-”

“Do you want to?” Craig interrupted him.

Tweek looked back at him, the same height as Craig when he was kneeling.

“For real,” Craig said, “If you- I mean, if you want, I guess. I can help you figure out a cover story, or something, and the guys know about you so they’d help too…Mosquito thinks he owes you a life debt-”

Tweek laughed, softly. His mismatched eyes were solemn. “I can’t.”

“Tweek-”

“Listen,” Tweek said, and reached up to cup Craig’s face.

Craig stared at him, his mind going totally blank at the touch. He didn’t think it had anything to do with healing.

“I… the situation with-”

Horror filled Tweek’s eyes. The gut-twisting terror was so apparent that Craig stood up, ready to scope out whatever threat the Healer had sensed and annihilate it immediately.

Instead of a tricked-out robot, a horde of robbers, or a crazed supervillain, he was currently staring down a middle-aged man, who was looking between the two of them like he’d never seen people before.

Tweek shot up, grabbing Craig’s arm so tightly that it hurt.

“This is my boyfriend!” He said all in one breath, dropping that bomb on Craig without any prep or time to recover, “Craig, this is my dad.”

Chapter Text

He was in a fucking horror movie.

Craig froze still in the little back room of the coffee shop, not even listening as Tweek spoke rapid-fire to the guy who was apparently his father, too busy staring at the shelves.

Tweek’s face, cherubic, perfect, and sweet, stared back at him from every single item on the back shelves. Brown bags of coffee, green, silver, gold. Cold brew tins. Coffee mugs.

There were bags of generic coffee as well, huge ones, and the grinder by the door was either a massive one for coffee or a small one for humans, Craig wasn’t sure at this point which.

“It’s not important!”

Tweek was nearly shrieking, vibrating like a anxious chihuahua, and wringing his fingers into his apron. Craig couldn’t catch his gaze. Maybe he should make a break for the door.

“Just leave him alone, he was just leaving, he’s incredibly busy and he has no timeforyourshit-” Tweek twitched, so violently that it broke his rambling.

“Now, Son,” The man said, carefully switching off the possible murder-machine, “Your mother and I are very progressive, you know. It’s perfectly acceptable that you ended up gay.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about!” Tweek snapped, hands reaching up to claw at his hair. “Look, Craig has to leave. Right, Craig?”

Craig’s voice seemed to be jammed in his throat. Tweak the Elder fixated a boring, placid brown gaze on him that he only barely resisted flipping off.

“Why don’t you come all the way in, Craig?” The man offered serenely, a severe contrast to his son, “Tweek’s mother will want to meet you when she gets back.”

“No!” Tweek pulled at his hair, “Leave Mom out of this-”

Craig stared at Tweek, hoping he felt the incredulous ire boring into his skull. What the fuck was happening? Why had he just thrown him- I mean, yeah, he was super interested, but they hadn’t talked about this shit and Tweek didn’t even fucking know if Craig even liked guys-

“I can’t stay,” He blurted, the first time he’d spoken since Tweek had grabbed his arm and led him inside. “We’re going out.”

Tweek scrunched up his face, an expression Craig didn’t understand because they clearly were lying already anyway, and Mr. Tweak barely blinked.

“How late?” He asked.

Tweek swiveled to stare at his father and Craig remained impassive and calm on the outside even if he was sweating like crazy. He’d lied to his parents tons of times about going out. This part was easy.

“We’re going to go see some movie,” Craig lied, “It’ll be over by like…eight at the latest.”

Mr. Tweak hummed.

“Alright, but I expect you both to come right back here when it’s over,” He said. “And Tweek- your mother and I are going to have to talk to you. Being secretive like this is unnecessary.”

“Wh-” Tweek switched gears quickly, reaching for Craig without looking. “Right. I get it, I’m just going to…get my jacket. I’ll explain everything when we get back.”

“Of course.” Mr. Tweak stepped aside, unblinking gaze fixated on Craig. “I look forward to getting to know you better, Craig.”

Jesus, were these people aliens or something? This guy gave him freaky ass vibes.

“Sure,” He said, wrapping an arm around Tweek. “C’mon, honey, let’s go get your jacket.”

Tweek made a grumbly little noise at the nickname, which was totally unfair because if anyone deserved to be unhappy about all of this it was Craig. He avoided all the gazes of the weird little Tweeks on the shelf and followed Tweek out the door to a main area.

There was a long bar, normal as every coffee shop he’d ever been to. Place wasn’t any kind of cozy, though. It was all whites and greys and not in a cool modern way. Looked like the inside of a fast food chain. With a disturbing little twist.

“Why the fuck are there posters of you on the wall?” Craig said, slowing down to stare.

“Don’t fucking ask, keep going!” Tweek bodily shoved him towards the corner, where a blocked-off set of narrow stairs led into another part of the building. “Hurry up, man, before Dad changes his mind-”

Craig kept staring as he was led away. The pictures were cherubic as well, plump-cheeked and coy, perfectly-manicured nails almost as long as a woman’s, well-fitted and dark sweater showing off deceptively strong shoulders.

It didn’t look like him at all, just enough that he’d been catapulted straight into serious uncanny valley territory. Yuck.

The creepy feelings followed them as Craig realized they couldn’t walk side by side in the stairwell. Even one at a time, he felt a bit claustrophobic surrounded by unfinished drywall in the dark stairway, not a single light to brighten the ugly walls. It also wasn’t helped that Tweek, correctly guessing that Craig was still in a half a mind to run, made him walk ahead.

At the top of the stairs, it was like a normal hallway within a house. Like they’d been transported into a home of normal people. Tweek bullied him into a room, frantic hands clawing at Craig’s sweatshirt as he shoved him inside.

“Make sure you leave the door open, boys!” Mr. Tweak called from downstairs.

Oh fuck no. Nosy ass motherfucker was not pulling that card, especially not with two fucking adults.

Craig headed for the door, intending to flip him off and close it anyway, but Tweek still had his hands in his shirt.

“Wait, wait, wait!” Tweek said, “Let me get outside first!”

The tone was borderline begging. That was what made Craig stop.

He turned around, watching Tweek rush to a desk and begin shuffling around.

Jesus, his room was a fucking mess.

There was art all over the floor. Apparently Tweek did watercolors, and pretty sick ones. Nature, it looked like, mostly focused on the sky. If he wasn’t so freaked out he would definitely be checking out a green-blue nebula halfway sticking out from under the dresser.

His walls were covered in crooked posters and lined in shelves. He had a ton of plants. His clothes were all over the place, his bed was unmade, and he had shoes spread out over the room.

Craig was itching to pick up the clothes and throw them in the empty fucking laundry basket two steps away from the door. Jesus, dude.

“You wanna tell me what’s going on yet?” he asked, unable to keep the sarcasm from his voice. “I didn’t appreciate any of that shit, dude.”

“I know! I know,” Tweek pulled out a folder and threw it on his bed, reaching in and grabbing a handful of cash. “Just…just a second.”

He began thumbing through the dollars, muttering under his breath.

He was still twitching. And boy was he a far cry from the posters downstairs- deep circles even more pronounced in his gaunt face, fingernails bitten to the tips of his fingers, expression pinched and tired.

Something was super wrong and Craig was super uncomfortable.

“Okay, I’ve got it,” Tweek grabbed a hoodie from the floor and shoved something from the folder inside, along with the cash. “Let’s go, man, let’s go.”

He was totally good with that. Craig followed him nearly on his heels as Tweek rushed down the stairs.

“Have fun, boys!” Mr. Tweak called from the counter, but Tweek was already outside, the bell on the door not even finished chiming before Craig was outside too.

He had the courtesy to wait until they were out of sight to flip him off, if only to make himself feel a little better.

Tweek was nearly jogging away from the cafe. Craig caught up to him pretty easily. He even counted to twenty to give Tweek a moment.

Then he reached out and stopped him, jaw set.

“You know that I’m super pissed at you right now, right?” Craig told him. “I didn’t fucking agree to any of that shit.”

“I know.” Tweek tugged on his sleeve nervously. “Walk and talk, man. I’ll…yeah, I’ll explain everything. I promise.”

Reluctantly, Craig kept walking. Tweek walked alongside him, hands stuffed in his sweatshirt pockets.

“So…” Tweek winced, a twitch back in his face. “That was my dad.”

“Yeah.”

“I am so, so sorry about that,” The blond cringed, and when he turned towards Craig the boy made sure he was looking away. “I went with the first excuse I could-”

“That was bullshit,” Craig interrupted coldly. “And I’m not gay.”

That was a lie, but he wasn’t exactly out to everyone and their fucking grandmother and Tweek had no business involving him without him being in on everything. It healed a piece of Craig’s cruel, hurt little heart to watch Tweek deflate a little.

There was an extremely long period of silence. Craig hoped Tweek felt half as uncomfortable as he did.

“...I’m sorry,” Tweek said again, more quietly. “I went with the first thing I could think of. I didn’t even think about how you’d feel about it.”

Craig’s temper softened a little.

“Whatever,” He said, “I don’t actually want to see a movie, though, you know.”

“No shit, I don’t either,” Tweek muttered, checking his watch. “I just need to get to the bank.”

Damn it. Craig was in half a mind to just walk off and forget everything, but his damn curiosity was winning out.

“What, you gotta make a super urgent deposit or something?” He asked, “You take all your dates to the bank?”

“Well, it’s not a date if you’re not gay, is it?” Tweek shot back at him. “And yeah, actually. I’m opening a bank account. You don’t actually have to come along!”

Craig squinted at him.

“Yeah, I’m going to need you to explain all of this,” Craig made a motion at Tweek and then back behind them. “What in the actual hell is going on?”

Tweek made a frustrated noise, clawing his fingertips down his skin.

“Look, in no way did I think he’d actually let me leave,” Tweek said quickly. “I don’t know why he let you just march in, say we were going-”

“Let you leave?” Craig questioned.

“You wanna hear it or not?” Tweek grumbled at him. “Yeah. Let me leave. I can’t, usually. Leave.”

“Terabyte said you were our age,” Craig pointed out. “So you over 18 or not?”

“It’s not that easy!” Tweek shot him a fierce look. “When you moved out, did you have money for an apartment?”

“Yeah.” Craig said. “I saved up shit.”

“So you had a job, right?”

“Well, yeah.”

“I can’t get a job!” Tweek smiled, an unhappy, bitter smile that lifted into a sneer. “I can’t make any money. I’m not even allowed to leave the cafe- unless they come with me. I don’t have any money so I definitely don’t have credit, so I can’t put a down payment on anywhere to live.”

Craig closed his mouth. He shoved his hands in his pockets, watching as Tweek rambled more and more frantically in higher and higher pitch.

“So I thought to myself, if I can’t save money and I can’t have anyone cosign on an apartment, I could just live like…on the streets? No way, I’d never- I’d die, probably, and who’s going to hire a nineteen year old with no experience in fucking anything?”

“You work for your parents,” Craig pointed out. “Just say that.”

“Sure, right,” Tweek rolled his eyes. “Then they’ll want to talk to them, or they want references, and I’m never going to get those that my parents won’t get to first and tell them what a horrible child I am, running away from home and destroying the family’s economy-”

“Destroying what?”

Tweek sent him an incredulous look. “Did you get a look at…literally anything in the cafe?”

“What, you being slapped up everywhere?” Craig said dryly. “That’s pretty hard to miss.”

“I’m marketable,” Tweek scorned. “Because I’m Powered and damn good at it. My parents fucking built a fucking empire on my fucking face.”

“And you don’t get any money from that?” Craig watched Tweek miserably shake his head. “Dude. That’s fucked up.”

He knew he didn’t like Tweek’s dad. He knew it from the moment he first saw him. What a scumbag.

“So, if I’m getting away from them watching me for a minute, I’m going to open a bank account,” Tweek waved what Craig now realized was his social security card, “Establish a line of credit. And work on getting enough money to move out. I can’t fucking take this anymore.”

Now all the pieces were falling into place. He could finally get a look at the weird ass picture. How absolutely fucked up.

“So you’ve been planning this a while.”

“Yeah,” Tweek said, smile twisting. “Took my first opportunity I’d ever gotten since I made my plan.”

He looked at Craig apologetically, but now the guy was over it. He waved Tweek off, but the other continued anyhow.

“No, Craig, I’m so sorry I dragged you into this,” Tweek tugged at a lock of blond hair, wincing. “If he found out I was healing out the back of the cafe, they’d make me stop, so I went with what I thought of next and I am so sorry that I- I embarrassed you, and dragged you into my weird shit-”

Oh god, enough, Craig was starting to squirm.

“Dude, stop,” Craig rolled his eyes, trying to portray just how Not A Big Deal it was now. “It is weird shit. But I’m not pissed anymore. Your family sounds like serious assholes.”

The relief that shot through Tweek’s eyes made something in his chest twist uncomfortably.

“You could have planned this before, though,” He pointed out. “Like…let me in on literally any part of this.”

“Well!” Tweek twitched oddly, twisting his fingers. “Well. I… I didn’t want you to… I mean…”

He was stuttering. Oh god. Why was that so cute?

Craig stared, completely enamored, as Tweek’s cheeks colored a bright pink.

“Some cool-ass hero comes by and is dealing with their own shit, you don’t think ‘hey, can I tell you my weird life story even though I barely know you’, so it would have been like, weird for me to dump that on you, and anyway it was nice to just talk, I guess, so I never really even considered-”

“I totally lied, by the way,” Craig interrupted, his own ears burning. “I actually am into guys.”

Tweek’s eyes widened, rambling coming to an immediate stop.

“Oh,” He said weakly.

“Yeah.” Craig’s heart pounded in his chest. “I was just pissed at you.”

“Uh, yeah, fair.”

The two of them walked on. The silence was suffocating. Craig itched to say something. Tweek thought he was cool. He stopped by, beat to hell, and rambled about a degree he hadn’t even started yet to the point where Clyde made fun of him, showed him pictures of his guinea pigs, and generally made an awkward ass of himself and Tweek thought he was still tough shit.

God he liked this guy so much.

“You can use me, you know,” Craig said, causing Tweek to squeak slightly. “As an excuse. If your dad is somehow chill with that and you wanna escape.”

“Are you sure?” Tweek checked, scowling at the look he received. “Just checking, man, jesus.”

“I said so, didn’t I?” Craig said. “Yeah, man. And if you just like…wanna visit friends-”

“I’ve been homeschooled since sixth grade,” Tweek said. “Unless they’re ordering coffee or bleeding out on my back doorstep, I don’t even see anyone my age anymore.”

Jesus Fucking Christ. Could this guy not catch a fucking break?

“Okay, well if for some ungodly reason you want to hang with my horrible, asshole friends,” Craig reiterated. “That’s whatever. I meant it, we need a Healer on our team. So if you want to come out sometime with us while we patrol….yeah. Be fine with us.”

Tweek wasn’t looking at him. But Craig could still catch the edge of the soft smile he was wearing, looking down at his sneakers as the two of them walked.

“And if you got other stuff you need to do to get out, we can help you in return. If that sounds cool with you.”

“Sounds cool to me.”

Craig found he could breathe easier now.

What a shitty situation. No wonder the poor guy indulged Craig’s dumb antics, he was probably bored out of his mind at home. Craig was too much of a bastard, he would have already left, and burnt the cafe down to the ground to boot.

Tweek’s hand brushed against Craig’s, and he almost didn’t think about it except that he did it twice more.

Realizing what he was asking and full of shock, Craig reached over and curled his fingers into Tweek’s.

The blond smiled, still staring at the concrete, but those boney fingers gave Craig’s hand a warm squeeze and his heart shivered with the action.

“Thanks, Craig,” The Healer said quietly. “Seriously.”

Craig found himself unable to think of anything cool to say in response. He squeezed his hand back, instead, but that seemed to work fine.

The two continued walking, and with each step further away, Tweek seemed to relax more. He didn’t let go of his hand, though, not until they got to the doors of the bank and necessity required them to walk in one at a time.

Chapter Text

Craig dodged but it was close. The blade came inches from his head, close enough that the wind from the motion swipped through his fringe.

“Quit leaving yourself open!” Was the shouted advice, which Craig took the time to flip off before leaping back out of the range of the equipment-based villain.

“Aw, don’t do that,” Containment’s eyes sparkled with ill-suppressed glee even from behind his helmet. “You’re going to hurt your boyfriend’s feelings.”

“You’re next, you know,” Craig threatened, ignoring the muffled curses from the villain as he kicked him in the ribs. “You and Jimmy. And the blood-sucking asshole back there.”

“What the fuck did I do?!” The bug hero protested behind them.

Craig ignored him.

“All of you can-” Craig paused, catching the villain’s wrist as the blade came swinging. “Hey, can you fucking not for a second- all of you can fuck off with this. Don’t call him my boyfriend. I told you, his parents are super shitty, so honestly you’re like, being super disrespectful to him-”

“You realize he hasn’t told me to stop?” Tolkien pointed out, casually loading his arm rockets with small capsules. “Just you.”

“That’s no fucking excuse!” Craig scorned, twisting the guy’s arm until he yelped. “Keep this up and I’m fucking off, and I’m fucking off with the badass Healer, so you guys can cry over your wounds in some back alley, I don’t give a shit.”

“Is he badass?” Tolkien asked conversationally, glancing down the evacuated street where the Healer was hesitantly following Mosquito as the other carved his way through clearly arachnophobic villains. “He’s pretty quiet. Hasn’t done much.”

“Well!” Craig felt incredibly defensive on Tweek’s behalf. Not his fault that he’d never been out on hero duty before. “Give him some fucking time to get used to this. Jesus. What, you want him to come out here and immediately start shanking villains or something?”

“Nah,” Containment adjusted the arm rocket settings. “You just really don’t call many people badass. It’s new for you.”

He wasn’t sure how to properly respond to that. He felt like most answers were going to get him roasted no matter what.

“He is badass,” Craig muttered, and ignored Tolkien’s broad smile.

Seriously, though. The guy was the strongest Healer he’d ever seen in his life- that’s Healer with a capital H. Old school shit. This wasn’t a heal-mild-abrasion-and-get-winded kinda guy, he was a let-me-set-your-bones-seal-your-skin-and-then-get-back-to-my-12-hour-workday dude who didn’t bat an eyelash at the exertion required. Tolkien had no fucking clue. Not yet, anyway.

Another lackey came for his buddy, and Containment and Craig leapt apart as shockwaves rattled down the street, displacing litter and shaking asphalt.

“Where the fuck are these guys coming from?” Craig asked.

“Who knows?” Tolkien said, firing a capsule.

The capsule hit the ground at the feet of a villain, exploding into a rapidly-expanding substance that reminded Craig of an experiment he, Jimmy, Tolkien, and Clyde had done in high school. The substance expanded to the guy’s knees, locking him in place. The villain seemed stuck.

The villain also seemed extremely worried about this, shrieking like a maniac as he waved his sword at the sticky glob like it was going to do him any good.

“Like it?” Tolkien asked cheerfully. “Dissever and I collaborated on a few pretty cool non-lethal weapon ideas last year. Just made these.”

“Sure,” Craig said, watching the guy panic. “He can still use his arms, though. Not really incapacitated or anything.”

“Yeah, well,” Tolkien surveyed his work. “Much more volume and it was definitely going to suffocate people. Kind of defeats the purpose of nonlethal.”

Craig grunted. Point, he supposed.

The villain was incapacitated for now, but he had buddies. Craig wondered if they had a homing signal on each of them or something. Like wasps, Mosquito said once, if one was in distress they all came to fuck your day.

Craig dodged one bigger guy wielding sticks that made alarming zappy noises. In all honesty, having so many people under one symbol was super weird. He’d never seen so many villains so willing to fight together.

“You ever find out where these guys are coming from?” He asked before headbutting the guy and knocking him over. “Who they’re working for?”

“Not a clue,” Tolkien said, “And that’s not great.”

Definitely not. Tolkien was bidding for a law enforcement position and had his finger on a lot of high-up pulses. If he wasn’t able to find shit, something was definitely up.

Craig caught one of the little weasels by his shirt collar.

“Hey, you work for someone in particular?” He asked him, and got a sharp shock for his trouble.

He let go of the guy, cursing wildly, as Containment casually released another goo-canister.

“They’ve got to,” He said, “We don’t see teamwork like this for…well, forever, and now we see these guys at least every week. Something’s up.”

“God I hope it’s a fucking supervillain,” Craig sighed.

“You do hope?”

“Well, yeah!”

How did you not, if you were a hero? Any hero worth fucking anything knew, if you wanted to be someone you needed three things. A cool powerset, a cool name, and a cool enemy.

Craig was the toughest Brawler the city had ever seen. Not quite a Brutalist, given that he didn’t have enhanced powers, but he also had a pretty badass name- SuperStrike, alliterative and everything, and together with his team they could take down a villain no problem. Easy fucking shit.

What they really needed was a fucking challenge.

And Craig needed a reason to push off university for another year.

Mosquito came flying in, shiny with sweat and covered in various little insects just hanging out on his sweater and hat.

Craig took a few steps back.

“Are you guys just talking?” Clyde said in disgust. “What the fuck. We’re doing all the work over here!”

“Uh,” Tolkien gestured to the single gooped villain. “Excuse you.”

“Cool, I got like a dozen guys on the ground back there,” Clyde blustered, pointing so violently over his shoulder he nearly poked Tweek in the eye. “And then I come back and find out I’m being left out of conversation! Again!”

“We were just talking about our newest member,” Tolkien said, overly friendly. “You have a hero name yet?”

Tweek’s lips pressed tightly together. The mask hid his eyes, but the guy’s face was expressive. The Healer shoved his hands in Craig’s borrowed sweatshirt and mumbled.

Craig braced himself.

“What was that?” Tolkien asked.

“WonderStrike.”

Craig didn’t quite turn his head fast enough to avoid seeing the surprised brow-raise from Tolkien. Nor did he miss Clyde’s delighted guffaw.

“Wait, aw!” The brunet cooed annoyingly. “So- wait, we have SuperStrike and WonderStrike now? You stole part of Craig’s name?”

He wanted to crawl into one of the potholes in the street and die. Just curl up in the middle of one of the pits the city was too cheap to patch and let people drive over his body until he was blissfully deceased.

He pulled his hat far down over his face, stalking off before anyone could see him blush.

“Well it’s his fault I’m out here,” Tweek griped, voice pitchy but wry. “So yeah. I guess.”

“Awww.”

He was going to kick Clyde in the balls.

“I think WonderStrike sounds better, actually. Hey, Craig, does this make you the sidekick?”

Craig flipped him off without turning around.

“Neither of us are,” Tweek answered for him with a decent amount of scorn. “I’m definitely not anyone’s sidekick.”

Craig pulled his hat down farther, like he had as a little kid in embarrassing situations.

He couldn’t describe how Tweek automatically stealing a piece of his identity made him feel. He’d expected to be annoyed, and then was annoyed that he wasn’t annoyed, and even more annoyed that he felt flattered.

He was extremely, superbly annoyed at how his heart kept thumping wildly the more he looked at Tweek out here, decked out in a heroic mask, standing casually next to his friends, wrapped in one of Craig’s sweaters.

Dude, he was so fucked. He wasn’t going to be able to keep playing this cool at this rate just by himself, his “friends” were definitely not fucking helping.

Time to get back on track.

Craig whirled around, pulling his hat up to face them all and say something super cool and totally devastating at the same time, probably, when he suddenly hit the ground.

He registered that far before he tasted blood. He hit the asphalt, winded from impact, realizing someone just punched him in the face.

The villain who hit him looked terrified and awed at the same time, wielding some kind of crazy kind of gauntlets that Tolkien was definitely going to try and build himself later.

Blood ran from his mouth into his nose, the blinding, stinging pain settling in along with the rage.

Craig was gonna murder this fucker. They were talking for fuck’s sake.

He blinked against the pain, fumbling to sit back up, and just happened to catch a glimpse of the nicest left hook he’d ever seen in his life.

Tweek swung a second time, knocking the guy clean off his feet- without the use of equipment enhancements, mind- before pivoting on his toes 180 degrees.

There was something in the mix of dirty brutality and cold grace that was just so fucking hot. Craig stared at him like an idiot, even as the other crouched next to him and started bitching him out.

“God, no wonder you get beat up on a daily basis!” Tweek squawked, voice trembling with anxiety and irritation. “Fucking shit! You just let people come right up to you and fucking punch you in the fucking face-”

God he was hot. That single punch was the smoothest, most sexiest thing he’d ever seen in his whoooole life. Craig stayed absolutely frozen, allowing Tweek to heal his face and gripe at him with pitchy profanity as he watched his face. Sharp cheekbones, faint dusting of freckles, light hair on his cheeks and chin, almost too blond to properly see.

“Yeah,” He finally said when he found his voice again. “I’m fine. Chill.”

“Don’t tell me to chill!” Tweek shrieked at him, eyes burning like ice behind the mask. “I’ll show you fucking chill, you idiot!”

“You wanna go out with me sometime?” Craig blurted.

Behind them he was faintly aware of someone- Clyde, he knew without even looking- gasp dramatically.

Tweek’s face switched through a wild array of emotions. Shock, horror, confusion, and then what was definitely a half-smile. A disbelieving smile, but he’d take a smile of any kind over that split second of terror. Even the anxiety seemed to immediately bleed out of the blond, lowering his voice back to levels that wouldn't deafen the common man.

“Did you get knocked in the head, too?” Tweek snarked at him, but it was too late. Craig saw the pink flood his cheeks. He hadn’t imagined this.

“I know you’ve got like, a ton of shit going on and stuff,” Craig fumbled onward, “But I’m just saying. I’d love to like, take you on a real date sometime. If that’s cool with you.”

“Oh, Jesus,” Tweek muttered, so quietly that Craig wasn’t sure he was supposed to hear it. “I mean…I…”

For an awful, horrible, terrifyingly embarrassing second, Craig was pretty sure he was going to be rejected.

“I mean…I’m not opposed to that,” Tweek told him, one arm resting over his knee where he crouched in front of Craig. He smiled, with ugly, crooked teeth, nose wrinkling adorably. “Isn’t this sort of a date right now?”

“No,” Craig said immediately, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder. “Those assholes are still here.”

“Hey!” Clyde protested.

“Like a real date. Just you and me.”

“Oh, Jesus.” Tweek whispered again, grin broadening. “Sure. Yes. Absolutely.”

Craig stared, torn between crawling into a pothole anyway or punching through a building with the strength of pure thrill.

“Oh my god,” He said, before realizing that wasn’t something a calm and collected person said after asking someone out. “Uh, cool. We can work out the details later, whatever works for you.”

“Cool,” Tweek repeated, looking similarly dazed, and held out a hand.

Craig’s brain took a moment to realize what was up, then he allowed himself to take Tweek’s hand and be hoisted up.

Tweek let go pretty quickly, stuffing his hands into his sweatshirt (Craig’s sweatshirt!) and backing off.

Dude, cool. Awesome. Neat. All the fucking synonyms. He never had it go this well before, that was awesome.

Containment and Mosquito looked way too invested, which was annoying, and Craig flipped them off behind Tweek’s head.

“Well,” Tolkien said as Clyde grinned like a cheshire cat. “If you guys are done, so are we. Should we dip before we hear sirens, or what?”

Chapter Text

Okay, dude, play it cool.

Craig stared up at the sign, hands shoved in his hoodie pockets.

Tweak Bros. Coffee. What bros? Far as he could tell, it was just Tweek’s parents relying on their fucking kid’s image for attention. Ever since he was little, Tweek had told him. Shitty people, honestly.

God, maybe he was getting older, but he appreciated the fact his parents never whored his image out like that. Or forbade him from leaving the house.

Well, they had, but Craig had been an asshole teenager and snuck out more than a couple times. Tweek seemed almost scared of breaking the ‘rules’ set by his parents.

He was Craig’s age, too. Grown-ass legal adult and shit. Jesus.

Craig shoved the door open with an elbow, not bothering to even take his hands out of his pockets, and stepped into the lobby.

Wasn’t exactly bustling in here. There were a few people sitting at tables, working on this or that, but no line. Craig sent a wary look towards the creepy poster of Photoshop-Tweek and approached the counter.

The glossy countertop was somehow spotless, the same stupid minimalist design all hip coffee shops had, reflecting the hanging lights.

The pastry case was immaculate and filled with all kinds of treats, treats Tweek was in charge of designing and making. Craig sent them a cursory look, but it was the boy in question he wanted to see.

Oddly, Tweek wasn’t in sight. Not frantically scrubbing espresso machines, not decorating cookies with laser focus, not stepping side to side in antsy anticipation as dumb people couldn’t make up their minds what to order.

Mr. Tweak was behind the counter, though, and wasn’t that just great?

“Hello, Craig,” The man said when he finally noticed the young man leaning on his counter. “I hate to be the bearer of disappointment, but Tweek wasn’t feeling his best today.”

Craig’s heart dropped. Oh, fuck.

“What do you mean?” He blurted, with no thought to politeness. “We have a date.”

Like a real date, a date-date, food and a movie, the whole cliche shebang.

“Well, you know Tweek,” Richard Tweak shook his head serenely. “He gets into these little moods, they take him away from this plane of reality until he’s an obsessive, flighty mess. Like an ailing bird, trying to soar-”

“Is he sick?” Craig interrupted. “Is he upstairs?”

Richard Tweak barely blinked. He had such a bizarre, glassy way of staring at you. Tweek stared too, but his eyes were always sharp and intaking information. Richard stared like he was trying to look at something far, far away.

“He’s upstairs,” The man said, “But I don’t think he’ll want to see you right now, Craig. Would you like a pastry to take home? On the house, of course, you know, we’re thinking of doing a little pride corner in the pastry case, rainbows do attract a lot of positive attention with young crowd nowadays.”

Craig only really listened to the first bit of that tangent. “Yeah, I’ll go see if he wants to talk. Thanks.”

He ducked away from the counter, hands still shoved in his pockets, when Richard remarked:

“You’re a good kid, Craig.”

Which might have been real fuckin’ heartwarming, if it wasn’t immediately followed up with:

“I know Tweek can be bit of a spaz, sometimes.”

He almost fucking stopped. Almost. He sent a look over his shoulder, glare smoldering.

If Richard Tweak had been a guy his age, or I guess if they’d both been kids and not grown adults, and he hadn’t been his kind-of-boyfriend’s dad, he would have punched the guy out.

Pockets were good for hiding when you were flipping someone off and didn’t want them to know, and Craig went stomping up the stairs in complete rage.

He was grinding his teeth, telling himself to cool off before he got to Tweek. He strode down the hall, jaw set firmly, until he stopped short.

High pitched, whimpering sounds came from Tweek’s room. Quiet, he hadn’t heard until he got close, but unmistakably distressed.

Craig stood there, wide-eyed, staring at the door.

Ah, fuck. What was he supposed to do?

He took small steps, listening, holding his breath.

Tentatively, he tapped on the door with two knuckles.

“Not now!” Tweek’s shrill, pitchy voice wavered. “Go away!”

If Tweek had a phone, Craig would have fucked off and sent him a concered text, waiting to hear back before daring to attempt again. But as Tweek was basically motherfucking rapunzel up in here, he didn’t have a ton of choices.

“Uh, it’s me.” Craig winced at the lame sound of his own voice. “Uh…are you okay?”

There was a quiet exclamation and a startling crash.

Craig stared at the door with wide wide eyes. “Tweek?”

Something hit the door, as if Tweek had run full-force into it.

“I’msorry!” He said through the door, all one word. “I can’t go right now- I can’t- I can’t stop- I’m sorry, I-” He made a sharp noise, something involuntary and almost pained. “I can’t. I can’t. I can’t. I can’t. I can’t.”

Craig’s arms fell to his sides.

He sounded pained. Frantic. He’d seen Tweek upset before, but mostly the guy seemed cool and relaxed. The panic and terror in his voice was horrible.

The word spaz echoed in Craig’s head, and he got mad all over again.

Okay. So.

Craig took a shaky breath, fumbling with his phone.

Carefully, slowly, he sat on the floor, tapping away at the screen.

A video queued up, he gently slid it under the door.

“You know I taught Stripe and Spot tricks?” He said, “Stripe knows more because he’s older, but I think Spot likes learning them more.”

He could hear Tweek’s whimpery, shuddering gasps even better this close. It made him wince. The video played on.

He hoped Tweek didn’t think he was too embarrassing. A grown-ass guy teaching guinea pigs to beg, spin in circles, and bring him toys could be seen as silly. He could think he was a little embarrassing if he liked, if that helped, but not too much.

Craig listened, intently, to his own (horrible) voice on the video, praising his pigs for jobs well done.

“Next video is them too,” He told Tweek through the door. “It’s…uh…it’s an album. You can look through it if you want.”

He held his breath, listening to Tweek’s too-quick, too-ragged breaths. But he also heard the next video.

Good. Craig exhaled. He didn’t have, like, a ton of experience with severe anxiety (which he suspected this was) but he was sure as hell researching it when he got home.

He had a lot of videos, staring from when Stripe was a year old, to the day he got Spot, to last Thursday when he did a timelapse of himself cleaning out their enclosure to sarcastically send to his mother who was asking about how the two boys were keeping the apartment clean.

She meant Craig and Clyde, obviously, but Craig pretended she was asking after his beloved pigs. He also referred to her as ‘grandma’ in the message back, which lent itself to a lovingly insulting text that he’d screenshot to laugh at again later.

He told Tweek about that, while the video was playing. He told Tweek alllll about the two pigs, as videos played on at the other side of the door.

“Spot’s way less outgoing,” He told Tweek. “Stripe literally wheeks at anyone who fucking comes in the room. He’s a total fatass, loves treats. And being pet. Any attention at all, and he gets super jealous if Spot’s getting all the attention and he’s not.”

Tweek’s desperate gasping had eased. Craig kept talking.

“Yeah, so, I thought Stripe was a girl when I first got him- his predecessor, also Stripe, had been a girl- and uh, he isn’t. Which is good I figured that out before I got Spot, otherwise I would’ve had so many fucking pigs, like- I’d never be able to get rid of them, so I’d just have like, five or six pigs, probably- they can have, like, up to eight babies at a time, but I don’t think that’s super common, at least no one I know has had it happen-”

“What,” Tweek’s shaky, wry voice came through the door, “Are you part of- of some guinea pig parent board online, or something?”

Dumb joke. Dumb, and aimed directly at him, but all Craig felt was relief.

“Yeah, maybe, what’s it to you?”

Tweek’s soft snort was reassuring. The sniffle made Craig bite the inside of his cheek, though.

His phone was slid back to him, under the door, and Craig stared at the door as if he might be able to stare through the wood.

“I’m sorry, Craig,” Tweek’s voice was almost inaudible. “I seriously- I can’t go out tonight, I can’t-”

“Hey, no problem,” Craig said quickly, hoping to avoid leading Tweek into another spiral. “Sounds like life is shitty right now. It’s okay.”

Tweek made another pitchy noise. Softer, but still distressed.

Craig remained where he was. Until Tweek told him to go, he wasn’t really in a hurry to leave.

“Your friends stopped by today.”

Oh god. Craig’s blood turned cold. He was going to murder them.

“Oh, fuck me,” He said. “Whatever the fuck they said, I’m soooo fucking sorry- it was Clyde, wasn’t it? Oh my god.”

“No, no,” Tweek gave a low, shuddery laugh. “No. They’re really nice.”

“They’re assholes.”

“So are you,” Tweek pointed out, another teasing jab. “But seriously, Craig, they came it to tell me…they told me…”

Oh god the suspense was going to kill him. Only out of sheer desire not to send Tweek’s anxiety spiking again did Craig shut his fucking mouth, and even then it was a damn close thing.

“Tolkien’s-looking-for-a-roommate,” Tweek’s said all in a rush. “And he asked if I wanted to rent an apartment with him.”

Craig froze.

He knew Tolkien was looking to move out, but he assumed the guy was going to rent out a place alone, roomy, with his parents’ allowance footing the majority of the bill. He hadn’t heard about this roommate business.

“Oh,” Craig said, stupidly. “Okay.”

“I don’t know them that well. We’ve only gone out, doing this- this hero work like five times, I don’t understand why he would-”

Goddamnnit, he was going to owe Tolkien big. He hadn’t even told him about Tweek’s situation, he picked that the fuck up.

“I mean,” Craig interrupted, “Better you than some random, right? At least we’re mostly sure you’re not a murderer.”

Tweek snorted again. When he continued talking, it was in a more reserved tone.

“I said yes.”

Craig waited for him to continue. When he didn’t, he filled the silence himself.

“Uh, so that’s…is it a good thing? I know you’re saving up to move out.”

“I have enough for a security deposit and first month’s rent, if someone else is paying half. I could move out literally today.”

Oh. Damn.

“Damn,” Craig said. “That’s fucking awesome, Tweek.”

The pause was too long.

“Tweek?”

“I can’t.”

Fear ricocheted through Craig’s heart. No. This place was making him miserable, treated him with such bullshit disrespect. He needed out. He needed to get out.

“Tweek,” He said, leaning against the door, “Honey. Yes you can. Why do you say that?”

“I’ve never been alone,” Tweek babbled, “What if I can’t make it? What if I don’t get a job? What if it goes wrong and I have to beg to come back here, or I end up homeless, or I end up murdered-”

“You’re definitely going to get a job,” Craig said, hands pressed against the door. “Dude, seriously. You work your ass off daily, no days off, dawn til fucking dusk, people are going to be chasing you down to work half as hard for them.”

His thumb scratched at a groove, taking off excess paint. “You’ll make it. You’re so fucking capable, dude.”

“I don’t feel like it, sometimes.”

“Well, I can tell, and I haven’t even known you that long, have I?” Craig asked him. “And you’re not alone. You’ve got me, for what that’s worth, and the guys can’t fuckin’ shut up about you. Tolkien isn’t going to ask just anyone to split rent with him, you know.”

Tweek was silent. Craig winced.

“And- and hey,” He fumbled, “I mean, I didn’t put down money on my apartment, actually, uh, my parents did, as a present for fucking graduating- for Clyde, too, cause his dad’s a single parent and he’s been around forever and they wanted to do something nice and sometimes they can be cool, but uh…if you need help like, with the process or researching where to live, or whatever, I don’t mind helping you. At all.”

The door jerked open, nearly sending Craig into the floor.

He looked up, seeing Tweek with red-rimmed eyes, watching him with a half-smile on his face.

He was super pale and shivering slightly.

Craig shot up, standing to his full height with his hands immediately shoved into his pockets.

They looked at each other for a moment.

Well, if he was Clyde, he’d offer the guy a hug, but Craig wasn’t really huggy. I mean, he definitely wasn’t opposed to the idea of hugging Tweek, his heart pounded at the thought of pulling him in so casually like that. But his family just wasn’t super touchy. They showed love in different ways, and it felt too weird to offer something outside his comfort zone so early to Tweek.

Still, if he had acted like he wanted a hug, Craig would have gladly obliged. As he just stood there, however, Craig kept his hands to himself and tried to think of something to say.

Tweek was the one who finally broke the silence.

“You can stay,” He blurted, fingers trembling as they ran through blond hair. “Only if you want to! I don’t want to go out, but you can- you can stay if you want to, and I don’t know, maybe we can-”

“We can watch a movie on my phone,” Craig blurted.

The relief in Tweek’s exhausted face was mirrored in Craig’s chest. “That sounds great.”

Craig took out his phone again, held it out as Tweek stepped to the side to let him into the room.

The blond looked up at him, taking it carefully from his hands.

His boney, cold fingers brushed Craig’s, and he was struck by the urge to wrap them in his own, maybe shove them in his pockets and try to warm them.

Craig ducked through the door, hoping to hide his blush.

God, this place was a mess. The decor was great, the plants well taken care of, but fucking hell, he didn’t pick up.

He stared at the floor, the dozen or so articles of clothing sprawled around over and around paintings and art supplies.

Craig gave in to his urge, stooping to pick up some of the clothing from the floor and walk it the two fucking steps to the hamper.

Tweek was staring at him, not the phone.

Okay, so maybe it was weird to walk into someone’s room and pick up, but Craig stuck with it.

“Where’s your washing machine?” He asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

“Are you…” Tweek looked like he was either going to tell him off or laugh at him, “You really don’t have to do that, man.”

“What, your parents make you wash it out in the creek or something?” Craig tossed more clothes in the hamper. “With a little washboard and a bar of soap and shit?”

“No, it’s right outside, in the hallway. The folding doors.”

Fucking hell, right outside his door and his room looked like this. Craig shook his head, getting to work. He’d get the clothes in the wash, then put up his (expensive looking) art supplies up where they wouldn’t get stepped on, throw away any trash he saw, and then he should have a decently nice room. Better for mental health and shit.

“Let me know when you picked a movie and I’ll stop,” Craig said, “But I definitely want to get the laundry in first.”

Tweek had stopped shaking. He was clutching Craig’s phone in his hands, and his expression was so amusedly fond that Craig couldn’t quite look at him anymore.

“Why are you doing my laundry?”

Craig gave a neutral grunt in reply.

It was a little too hard (and embarrassing) to explain that this was it. That when he and his sister were sick, their mother used to replace their sheets with soft, clean-smelling blankets when they started feeling better, that when Craig’s friends were busy, or tired, or mourning, he liked helping with their chores, that when his mother had felt stressed their dad often stepped in to take some of her burdens off her.

Tuckers were weird. Craig knew he was weird.

“Better you find out I’m weird now than later,” He said nonchalantly. “Right?”

“Right.”

The warmth in Tweek’s voice made his ears burn.

“So you’re a neat freak.”

He was, kind of, but he’d be damned if he let Tweek get away with everything so he sent him a halfhearted glare. The broad, crooked grin he got back was fucking cute. God, he was so cute.

“Pick a movie, already,” Craig snarked at him. “Whatever you want.”

He got to the laundry, but didn’t get to pick up all the paint supplies. Tweek convinced him to stop, so he did. Didn’t exactly want to push him right now, but he was definitely coming back to finish the job if Tweek let him.

They sat side by side, so close that Tweek’s shoulder to elbow touched Craig’s.

He would twitch, occasionally, something harsh and involuntary. Craig didn’t mention it and he didn’t pull away, but he did take notice.

Tweek didn’t pull away either, watching the tv with a tired but content expression.

“I’m going to do it,” Tweek said quietly, during a pause in the action.

Craig took a long, relieved breath. This place was a total shitshow, so good. He needed to get the hell out of here.

He managed to actually be tactful about it, though.

“Cool,” He said. “I mean it. Whatever you need help with, we got you.”

Tweek’s hand slid into Craig’s. His fingers tightened around him in a strong grip.

Craig’s heart thudded painfully, but he remained casual and stared at their entwined fingers with delighted, silent intrigue.

The movie played on, and when Tweek fell asleep against his shoulder, Craig just selected the next series and let him sleep on.

Chapter Text

"Nice,” Jimmy said, grinning broadly at the newcomer. “The guys said you k-kicked serious ass. You going to stick with hero work?”

Craig leveled a wary look at the guy across the table. Jimmy knew he wasn’t supposed to overload the guy with too many questions for their first meeting but Tweek didn’t shiver or flinch. He merely shrugged.

“I mean, I guess,” Tweek stirred the straw in his glass of water, “I don’t know, man, but it’s nice to make that decision. I haven’t actually used my powers in a fight, before.”

Wait, what? Sure he had, he healed Craig’s sorry ass more than once.

Craig turned his head to look at the blond but he didn’t seem to notice.

He glanced over at Clyde, who was busy on his phone and didn’t seem to notice the wording. Tweek was their regular Healer now, and fighting was easier than fucking ever because of it.

“Oh, really?” Jimmy at least thought it was weird too, judging how looked at Craig, hazel eyes sending out clear questions Craig didn’t have an answer to. “Well. Here you go, man. Welcome to the life.”

“Jimmy’s our informant,” Clyde looked up from his phone to explain to Tweek. “He’s got, like, some flashy-ass contacts in the journalism office he works in and such.”

“Personally, I think I’m made for TV more than w-wr-writing,” The communications student said with a grin, “But it’s a way in. And leaves nights free for standup.”

“Craig said you were a comedian,” Tweek met Craig’s eyes again briefly.

He was smiling, in a kind of fond kind of way that was making his stomach do weird things. They’d been talking pretty much nonstop since he’d moved out, and while Craig wondered if Tweek ever got sick of Craig’s constant bombardment of information, bitching, and guinea pig pictures, Tweek never mentioned it.

He’d only just moved out, though. Craig had finished helping him set up the apartment weekend before last since Tweek was moving in a couple weeks before Tolkien- guy should be in this weekend too. He knew Tweek hadn’t had a lot of time to process. It was all still new, but he knew Jimmy was dying to meet the guy that Clyde and Tolkien couldn’t shut the fuck up about.

‘Craig’s Boyfriend’ this, ‘Craig’s Boyfriend’ that. They weren’t even official, exactly, Tweek had a ton going on and Craig was sometimes kind of shit at making that move, so… yeah.

But Jimmy was dying to meet the guy. He toed the line between “good, thoughtful friend” and “irredeemable asshole” as well as any of the rest of them so he supposed it wasn't surprising that Tweek seemed comfortable with him already.

Tweek might be antsy but he wasn’t acting unsettled. In fact, he looked waaaay better than normal.

Face still gaunt but full of color this time. His eyes were still purplish around the edges and noticeably tired. Still, Craig could see that his smile seemed to…dunno, fit on his face a little better. His eyes crinkled slightly when he smiled, he laughed more easily, his shoulders not held tense.

It was nice.

Craig watched him as the friends chatted, moving onto Jimmy’s hobbies and his popularity with his improv group and the standup gigs he was booking. Tweek seemed interested. Maybe they should all go sit in on a show together, the bunch of them. That could be fun.

There was something tender in that, he thought, watching Tweek and Jimmy chat about old improv shows the two had grown up on and a mutual love of live performance. Getting to share your friends with someone else you cared about. Tweek deserved friends, people who wouldn’t treat him like shit.

And yeah, they were all assholes, but Tweek was well loved by all these fucking assholes already. Guy deserved it, like so much.

Craig’s phone buzzed. He pulled it out of his pocket as Tweek laughed scratchily at something.

He frowned. The look he shot across the table could kill a mortal man.

Maybe Clyde wasn’t mortal, then, because the smarmy little fucker just smirked all the more.

‘Simp’ his ass. Craig flipped him off, and not subtly. Fine. Clyde was getting what he deserved.

“Hey, Jimmy,” Craig said, evenly, and without looking away, “Did Clyde tell you he’s dating someone?”

Jimmy brows nearly hit the fucking ceiling. Clyde’s jaw dropped to the ground and Craig bathed in his own smarmy victory.

“Wait, what?” Jimmy leveled a genuinely shocked gaze on the other brunet. “Dude! Since when?”

Clyde was seething, red cheeks and all. Craig settled back in the booth, arms crossed.

Tweek was looking between them, crooked grin and scrunched brows offering some kind of exasperated, fond look that send another wave of flutters through him.

“It’s not like…” Clyde stammered, nervously tapping his hands on the table, “I mean…hey, why is it a big deal, anyway?”

“Because,” Jimmy said deadpan, “You get the least p-pussy out of any of us.”

Clyde squawked in horror. Craig choked, not quite able to keep the loud snort under control.

“Okay, so considering I’m gay-” He managed as Clyde began sputtering, “Maybe that’s-”

“Nah, but you’ve had one long-term girlfriend before,” Jimmy said. “Clyde hasn’t.”

Okay, well!

“I have too!” Clyde yelped.

“When we were kids doesn’t count!”

“Why are you bringing me into this?” Craig snapped, feeling his own cheeks heat. Tweek was right fucking there, dude. “I didn’t do shit.”

“You brought yourself into it!”

Tweek was trembling.

Craig whipped his gaze over, shoulders drawn up to his ears, before he realized Tweek was trying not to laugh at him.

The asshat.

“Dude.” He muttered.

Tweek kicked him lightly in response, beginning trying to stack their empty dishes, a small smile on his face.

Craig wasn’t even annoyed. The guy looked so happy, honestly. Less like he was peering over his shoulder every second of the day, less like he was worried about having his movement monitored.

Relaxed. That’s how Tweek looked.

Craig nudged him as Clyde whined, for no reason really.

“It’s…it’s not even a girl,” Clyde blabbered, “And it’s none of you nosy assholes’ fucking business-”

“What’s his name?” Jimmy demanded. “Or their name. What’s their name?”

“I just said none of your business! And by the way, I’ve had tons of girlfriends, I just didn’t tell you about any of them!”

“Oh, y-yeah? How much did they cost?”

“Relaxing dinner, right?” Craig said to Tweek. “Loooove the ambiance.”

“They’re your friends,” Tweek pointed out to Craig, “Why are you complaining?”

He soaked in that crooked smile a little longer, unable to force one off his own face. “They’re your stupid friends now, too.”

Tweek rolled his eyes, pushing the neatly-stacked dinnerware towards the middle of the table. Craig pushed it to the edge.

“And I’m not complaining,” Tweek pointed out. “I don’t give a shit who Clyde’s dating.”

“Thank you,” Clyde said forcefully. “Tweek knows how to mind his fucking business.”

“Uh huh,” Craig said, downing the rest of his soda to mask his grin, “We could all learn that, huh?”

The guy pouted like a fucking child, but Craig was totally right. And he made his point. Stay in your fucking lane. His allegedly-sappy looks for Tweek that only-theoretically happen would be for Tweek only. Don’t throw stones and shit.

Jimmy was checking his own phone, and if Clyde was sending him more shit Craig was going to actually start making things up about Clyde’s unnamed partner. He was someone they had went to school with, maybe, and let Jimmy painstakingly run through each of their classmates- and Jimmy knew fucking everyone in fucking school. Probably still had half their phone numbers. Oh! Or that they were a low-tier villain, trying to compromise their hero group.

God, if only. They needed some excitement in their hero lives if they were going to get anywhere.

Which was about to not be a problem anymore.

“Uh…there’s a problem.”

“What?” All three other heroes said at once.

Jimmy set his phone on the counter, Craig snatching it up first to Clyde’s dismay.

“Looks like those l-la-lackeys from a w-while back are causing trouble. Tolkien said they were everywhere-”

“Oh, Jesus, right,” Tweek peered over Craig’s shoulder. “So you guys don’t normally have people all fighting together like that?”

“Not here, no,” Craig told him. “This is awesome, it’s not far away! Wanna kick some ass?”

“Yes!” Clyde punched the air. “Yesss!”

Rather than ask Jimmy to move, the weirdo crawled over the back of their booth into the next, (thankfully empty, how would you explain that?) before crawling away and sprinting towards the door.

Jimmy and Craig watched him go.

“Okay,” Craig said, “Well I’m not going to act like a dumbass and Tweek and I are going to-” He paused. Kind of just assumed, there, Tucker. “I mean-”

“What? Hurry up,” Tweek pushed at Craig’s shoulder, strange eyes alight. “Let’s kick some ass.”

Craig grinned, unable to help himself, handing Jimmy’s phone back to him.

“Hey, wait,” The comedian gave Craig a look. “Dude. Do you have comms or no?”

“Oh.” Yes, if Tolkien wasn’t ‘active’ Craig was in charge so… “Yeah. Want one?”

“Fucking yes,” Jimmy picked one from the case with glee. “I’ll keep an eye out for any news about these g-g-guys out here.”

“Cool,” Craig had made fun of Clyde, but now he was having trouble not sprinting out the door himself. “See you in a bit.”

“Don’t worry, g-guys, I g-got you!”

And like the two baddasses they were, Tweek and Craig swept out the door into the city’s darkening nightfall.

Hell to the fuck yeah, man.

Even reaching the stars themselves wouldn’t be this exciting, Craig always thought, as ducking down a stinking, darkened alley and turning your clothes inside out, ditching outerwear, adorning masks and gloves before bursting back out into the light a fully-prepared hero.

A night out with the guys usually ended up in them trying to stop petty crimes. Maybe just standing around and hanging out, if things were boring, taking pics with tourists from places where Powered people weren’t a thing.

This? Headed into a fight with semi-competent opponents? Exactly what Craig liked. Just what they needed.

“This is awesome,” He told Tweek, heart thudding loudly in his chest. “You ready?”

“Yeah,” Tweek grunted, finishing the tie on his headband. “Listen, Craig…”

He waited as they jogged down the street, but Tweek didn’t continue. “Yeah?”

The blond was struggling with something. Jimmy’s voice came over the comms with an address. Craig waited.

They caught up to Mosquito, who Craig petulantly threw a comm at and got cussed at for. He flipped his friend off nonchalantly, looking back at Tweek.

The Healer’s jaw was set, pretty blue eyes bright as ice behind the mask, even in the dark. It still took him another second.

Craig gave him it, jogging so closely that their arms brushed on every offstep. The street lights cast the three’s shadows further down the street. No biggie. He was a patient guy.

“Uh, so,” Tweek finally started, “I’m going to be a little more proactive this time.”

“Okay,” Craig said. “Cool.”

Tweek looked at him oddly.

Craig didn’t understand why he was looking at him like that.

“What?” He asked.

“Nothing,” Tweek said as the three of them moved onward. “So that’s…fine?”

“Dude, that’s totally up to you,” Craig said automatically. “I’m not your fucking mom.”

He didn’t have time to second-guess his wording. Tweek laughed, and that meant it was okay.

“Whoo!” Clyde said, hopping slightly in his footsteps, literally buzzing with his extremely annoying powers. “Night Fight! Night Fight!”

“Dude, you’re calling all kinds of shit over here,” Craig swatted at the nearby mosquitoes delightedly swarming their summoner. Little fuckers seemed to love him for some fuckin reason. “Stop. I’ll itch for days.”

A soft frost brushed the side of his face, freezing the collecting insects there so they dropped off his skin.

Craig brushed at the cold sensation, bewildered, his gloves coming away wet. Briefly, he met Tweek’s eyes, a little too bright behind the mask maybe.

“What-” Craig started, but he didn’t have the chance to finish.

In the blue tones of night, lit by ugly white light posts and gaudy shop fronts, a fireball erupted from the old city bank.

It was fucking bright. Lit the whole damn street in orange, so hot that he could feel it from here. The sound rumbled down the street, vibrating windows, shuddering down the road behind them as the light slowly dissipated into the air.

Those finishing up late night shopping or headed into the bars and restaurants started screaming, muffled, some headed to the back of the establishments as others crowded the windows.

The trio of heroes stood still as smoke filtered into the air, something chemical and acrid.

“G-guys? I’m hearing there’s fire downtown.”

“Yeah,” Craig said, finding his bearings again, “We see it.”

He turned to the other two. Tweek regarded him seriously, cool as a fucking cucumber, and Clyde bounced on his feet like a child at a theme park.

“I’m drawing them out,” Craig said, “I’m the tank. Mosquito, citizen patrol.”

“Aww!”

“You wanna send fucking bugs into the fucking fire or what?” Craig asked, incredulous. “W-WonderStrike,” He barely stammered over the name. Nailed it. “Cover for now, or what’s the play?”

“If you’re drawing them out, then I’m your cover,” Tweek told him. “Let’s go.”

“Careful. T-tons of lackeys, but they’re taking orders from someone. No ID on this g-g- this dude. Don’t know him. I’m looking it up.”

“Heard,” Craig said, taking off across the street. “Let’s see if he’s easy to piss off.”

Huh. There was an overturned car in front of the bank. Craig gave it a cursory look as he and Tweek approached the bank. No driver. If that was the getaway car, poor bastards were fuck out of luck.

“What the hell happened here?” Tweek asked.

Craig opened his mouth to answer, then fully saw what he meant.

Scorch marks, in strange patterns, scaled up the walls of the building. Smoke still poured out, and civilians were milling around gawking in the dark up at the building like demented tourists.

“Get out of the way!” Craig barked at them, which was less effective than Mosquito more or less siccing spiders on the general population.

Yeah. That usually got people to move.

Tweek was at his elbow, a swift, silent ally as they jogged up the steps.

“Careful, man,” Tweek told him, catching his sleeve. “Don’t run into a fire.”

“Well, it’s not like it’s a big one,” Craig began, and his vision was suddenly shocked full of light.

It was light, blinding, but white-blue rather than orange. Blinding to the point of painful, he stumbled backwards, nearly down the steps if Tweek hadn’t caught him and shoved him upright with all his might.

A blast of energy tingled over his skin, and something swooped past. Craig blinked, vision still spotted and black, and he heard Clyde yelp wordlessly over the comms.

“What the fuck!?” Craig said, rubbing his eyes frantically. “God-fucking… shit! Fuck!”

“What the fuck! What is that?!” Tweek was saying, which was suuuper frustrating when he couldn’t see shit.

A light, nasally, maniacal laugh echoed over the area. Tweek’s fingers were clutched into Craig’s sweater, almost protectively.

“There’s nothing to heal, I can’t heal you,” Tweek whispered to him frantically, directly into his ear.

“Forget that shit! Tell me what’s going on!” Craig rubbed his eyes wildly. “Who’s that?”

“I don’t fucking know! Clyde?”

“Who the fuck is this?”

“Someone send me a p-picture or something! I have nothing to go on, guys, c’mon!”

“Good evening, Citizens!” The smarmy voice continued, full of pride and delighted glee. “I see you’ve met my minions.”

“Incoming, guys!”

Craig could see shapes and faint light. He scowled, squinting as if it would help.

“Awful sorry to ruin your night… but what’s a weekend without a little… Chaos?”

“On your right!” Tweek snarled, and a chill came over Craig.

Not just because Tweek was cool as shit, because he was, but physically, an icy feeling washed over Craig. Pillars rose from the ground, spiked like icicles in Colorado winter, massive and threatening as they loomed over the boys.

An attack, Craig thought for a split second, before realizing. No. A barrier.

He looked at Tweek, who he could now half-see, all scowled eyebrows and confidence. Flurries spiraled around his fingers, falling softly to the ground as he surveyed the ice spiked thicker than Craig was wide. He looked pissed. But in control.

And the moment he looked at Craig, worry filled every inch of his face.

“Are you alright?”

Craig’s heart melted. God fucking damn.

“You’re so fucking cool, babe,” He blurted. “I’m good. Let’s punch some assholes in the face. Where’s this-”

Tweek pointed up at the sky with a frosted glove.

Smarmy Voice Man was fucking flying in the air like motherfucking superman. Pale blond, decked in silver accents and a long, green cape, the guy was just…floating over the crowd of horrified bystanders, the creep.

“What the hell, I can’t fight him in the air,” Craig stared up into the sky like a dumbass, totally useless. “Jimmy, who the fuck has flight?”

“Uh, Kite.”

“Yeah, this is definitely not the Kite.”

“Well…that’s p-pretty much it, dude. I don’t h-ha-have anything else for you, I promise I’m looking-

“Okay, well…” Craig caught a glimpse of the lackeys from before, and now it made sense. “Guess I’ll start with the ground level ones.”

“Okay!” Tweek’s voice had reached higher pitches. “Right.”

“We’ve got this,” Craig said, and ducked around the ice barrier.

Ice powers. Was that like…related to the healing thing? He was going to ask Tweek after this. Super cool. Elemental powers were like…super rare, and super powerful, and super cool.

Craig caught a lackey off guard and shoved them down the steps. He caught the next one and punched him, solidly in the gut, watching as he bent over and dropped a ziplock bag of money.

“Who robs banks anymore, anyway?” He commented, “Do banks even have that much cash anymore? It’s all like digital nowadays, and-”

He went to grab another lackey, only to find the steps frozen. And the guy’s feet frozen to said steps. Said guy was super distressed about it, and so were his half dozen other buddies now frozen into bad-guy-popsicles.

“Huh.”

Tweek jogged up to him, breath exhaling visibly in clouds. He was panting with exertion. “I think I have them all!”

“So…” Craig motioned towards the stairs. “You’ve always been able to do that?”

Tweek’s smile was lazy and utterly handsome. “Yeah.”

Craig was definitely quizzing him on this later, when he had working brain cells again. “Super cool.”

“It’s cold, actually,” Tweek weakly joked.

Craig snorted. The pink that flushed Tweek’s cheeks was super worth the lame joke.

“Hello!”

The two started, whirling around to see Weird Floaty Man hovering brightly over them.

He was even weirder up close. He had eerie, pale blue eyes and was staring. Like not blinking. Maybe he didn’t have eyelids.

“You don’t seem very important,” The Floaty Guy said, like a total dickhead, “So I’m gonna ask you nicely to leave now.”

“Oh yeah?” Craig said evenly. “How about you nicely fuck back off wherever you came from, first?”

He flipped him off as well, but the guy didn’t do much more than wrinkle his nose.

“I’m being nice,” The Villain said petulantly.

“If you’re gonna be a dick, and rob banks, and set shit on fire,” Craig pointed out, “The fuck is the point in being nice?”

The blond regarded him with laser focus. His unblinking gaze seemed to embed itself into Craig’s brain.

Wind pulled at the edges of Craig’s hat, the Creep’s cloak. Slowly, Tweek was reaching for Craig’s shoulder.

The blond shrugged.

“Aw, fine then,” He said, and smiled.

Lightning. That’s what the bright blue bullshit had been. He knew because the guy decided to try and sear his fucking retinas out of his skull for the third time tonight.

“He’s an Elemental!” Craig called over the comms as he shielded his eyes.

“There i-isn’t a flying Elemental besides Kite!”

“Well we got another!” Tweek’s high voice shrilled next to him. “I can’t reach him up there!”

“Clyde!” Craig barked.

“Consider this your warning, kids!” The Float Guy said, despite looking distinctly within their age group. “You’re rue the day you messed with Chaos!”

Clyde was calling a swarm to their area. Craig knew because the creepy little fuckers were crawling out of the cracks in the stone steps, flitting from the bushes. He shuddered. Fuckin’ nasty.

“Buy some time!” Tweek hissed, and backed off a couple paces.

Huh? Well, sure. If there was one thing Craig fucking excelled at, it was pissing people off.

“I have literally never heard of you,” Craig cupped his hands around his mouth to better make his insults clear. “You show up and give people light shows or what?”

Chaos tilted his head, looking for all the world like a pissy mother.

“You should be careful how you talk to me,” He called down, not seeming to notice the sudden increase of insects in the air. “What’re you supposed to be, anyway?”

“Professor Chaos. Only a few sightings and he’s never sh-sh-shown any kind of p-powers or anything until now.”

“Until now, yeah!” Clyde’s voice came over the comms. “Alright. Ready to swarm!”

Admittedly, it was a pretty fuckin good plan. Clyde’s creepy bugs were crowding the airspace above the guy. What would anyone do with plague-amounts of flying insects swarming above their heads?

The Professor’s reaction apparently was to squeak like a terrified mouse and dart downward, frantically shaking white-blond hair in order to get real or perceived bugs out of his hair.

Close enough.

Craig sprinted up the steps as the guy descended, mindful of the ice. If he could get one good hit in-

Chaos’ eyes opened and locked with Craigs when he was about four paces away.

Light. He always thought being struck by lightning would be hot. It wasn’t, really, at least not at first.

It hurt, but in a weird way. Like his whole body became rigid and sore, and as he tumbled back onto the stairs he felt jabs of pain all over.

He’d once been playing basketball with the guys and stepped directly in a fire ant hill. They’d crawled up his legs before Clyde could call them off. Hurt like a bitch, and hurt a bit like this, too.

His fingers hurt. And his face. He couldn’t feel his legs. Craig stared up at the spotty, fuzzy black-edged sky, blankly wondering if he was possibly dying. At least he went out fighting a supervillain right? His mom was going to kill him later.

“NO!”

Clyde was going to kill him right now.

“Craig?!”

Yep, and Tweek was going to kill him twice.

He tried to move, feeling his body clumsily trying to follow the directions his brain was frantically giving.

“Told ya!” Chaos’ voice rang in Craig’s abused ears. “You better run, or else this is gonna get awful ugly.”

Tweek skidded so close to him that pebbles from the cracked stairs skittered into Craig’s cheek as he sucked in breaths. The edge of Tweek’s boot touched his face.

“Hold on,” The blond directed him, all light and fury. “Don’t move.”

Light? Wait, why was he glowing?

Craig was treated to the simply ethereal vision that was Tweek cloaked in true rage. And absolutely fucking sick Elemental Powers.

Chaos was charging up another blast, but Tweek was ready for him.

Absolutely, devastatingly to Craig’s overly-sappy heart gorgeous, the blond’s surroundings were lit in a pale purple light. Quickly, unlike Chaos’ slow-charging blasts, his lightning was skittery and nervous, but no less powerful.

It struck in six points around them, directed upwards, meeting Chaos’ lightning strike for strike.

Oh, goddamn he was smart. Giving the shit a place to go safely that wasn’t through Craig’s overtaxed cardiovascular system. Goddamn.

“Holy shit,” Craig coughed out, feeling a bewildered laugh stick in his throat. “What the hell have you been doing all this time?”

Tweek, who Craig was beginning to suspect might just outrank the entire Powered lineup in the city (and wasn’t that a dizzying thought?) fucking smirked.

“I’m still pissed at you,” Sweat dripped down his neck, into the collar of Craig’s borrowed shirt, highlighted by the flashes of purple and blue erupting around them. “You gotta stop getting hurt, man.”

The lightning disappeared and Tweek wiped a hand over his mouth. Craig wasn’t sure he’d ever form words again.

“-an Elemental, Jimmy! Seriously!”

“Wh- Tweek is?!”

“We need to get this guy out of the air,” Tweek panted. “Clyde-”

“I’m trying dude, I’m so sorry, my bug friends don’t really want to get close to something that’s basically a giant bug-zapper.”

Craig fumbled but managed to sit up, feeling weirdly dizzy.

“Craig-”

“Nah, let’s dodgeball this shit,” He said, attempting stagger to his feet. “I’m sick of this guy.”

Said guy was looking slightly more nervous now, eyeing Tweek with furrowed brows.

Tweek huffed, offering Craig a hand, which he took. “What do you need?”

“Something to throw. And a distraction.”

“Clyde can be the distraction. S-s-someone needs to grab the guy once he’s on the ground, guys. Police are on their way, not that they’ll do sh-sh-shit about it.”

“Whoo!” Clyde was standing at the top of the stairs, waving his arms like a man desperately trying to hail a taxi. “Hey, weirdo!”

The guy actually looked over his shoulder, a weird look on his face. He stared at Clyde, arms falling from their crossed position.

Tweek stepped on the stair. It gave way, concrete breaking apart like a sandcastle at the beach.

“Yeah, we need to have a talk,” Craig huffed as he scooped up a decent chunk of concrete. “You can’t just bop in and start being awesome at everything, like-”

His head cleared, as did his vision, and he realized Tweek was healing him.

“Easy, Honey,” The endearment rolled off his tongue more softly than he meant for it too. “Let’s wait and see if this works.”

Professor Chaos, maybe enraptured by Clyde’s imitation of a bird’s mating ritual, didn’t see the chunk of concrete till it was hurled at his stupid, metal-clad head.

Went down like a fucking sack of money, the guy. Dropped onto the stairs so quick Craig thought for a second that he might be dead. But the guy stirred, and Craig bolted up the stairs.

The same time, Tweek had apparently taken to trying to frost the guy in place, which totally worked but at the cost of Craig’s footing.

“Sorry!” He called while Craig ate shit on the stairs for the second time today. “Oh, Jesus.”

“Yeah, I’m fine!” Embarrassing. Clyde got to the guy first.

He looked perfectly smug about it, too, until he got close enough and the guy looked back up at him.

Clyde froze, much like the villain stuck on the stairs, ankle-to-arms enveloped in ice.

They stared at each other, mouths agape.

“Uh, what the hell is going on?” Craig called, tentatively taking steps on the frozen stairs. “What’s-”

With a burst of light, Chaos shattered the ice like glass.

Tweek gasped behind him, swearing up a storm as Craig braced himself.

Chaos flew, much less gracefully than before, several yards into the air. His eyes were still locked on Clyde.

And then, he darted off. Shot off like a damn bottlerocket away from the chaos he created, into the night.

“Hey, what the fuck?” Craig called.

Clyde stood, dazed and wordless. Totally useless.

Craig stopped on the stairs, adjusting the comm in his ear. “Yeah, Jimmy? We’re going to start an interrogation. Clyde knows this guy.”

“N-no,” Clyde stammered. “Wh- I… I’m not sure.”

“Oh, 100%. Meet up at your apartment? By the way, you all owe me for dinner, assholes. Left me to p-pay the bill, of course-”

“Dude, fine. Meet you in like…30, this place is a mess and we don’t want to be-”

A hand grabbed his arm, roughly, and he almost elbowed Tweek right in the face.

“Oh, dude, don’t fucking do that,” Craig said, feeling his mouth dry. “Fucking hell.”

“Are you alright?” Tweek’s hand gripped his sweater roughly, his other gently pressing into Craig’s cheek, tracing his jaw. “That was bullshit, dude.”

“Wanna know what’s bullshit?” Craig said, only half-kidding. “Your parents were using you to sell coffee. Dude. That was the sickest shit I’ve ever seen!”

“Pretty sick,” Clyde’s halfhearted voice came from behind him.

Tweek swiped a sleeve over his sweaty, blond-stubbled chin, cheeks visibly pink. Exertion maybe, or.

“You’re so fucking cool, dude,” Craig said openly. “I mean it.”

“How m-man-many times did he save your ass just then?”

Craig calmly took his comm out. “Mind your damn business,” He told it, before looking back at Tweek.

The guy was watching him, fondly, under furrowed brows that clearly declared him a goddamn idiot.

“I’ll get you back for that,” Craig promised, heart thudding in his chest. “Saving my ass or whatever.”

Tweek shrugged, a quick, jittery thing. “I think we’re pretty much even, Craig. Don’t worry about it.”

Damn it, he wasn’t very good at explaining. Tweek wiped at his cheek, and Craig caught his gloved hand on the way back to his side.

Tweek started. In the distance Craig could faintly hear sirens, and Clyde saying something about…something.

A cool hand on his face. Tweek had ripped off a glove with his teeth (why was that really hot?) as Craig had his other free hand. He pressed his cool fingers to Craig and finished up Healing, trembling slightly and avoiding his gaze.

But smiling.

Craig’s heart couldn’t take much more of this.

“Still can’t pay you,” Craig said, totally nonchalant and cool as hell. “Sorry.”

That got the jittery laugh he was hoping for, scratchy and high. Tweek’s eyes flit to him, away, to the ground, to Clyde behind him, and back.

“Yeah, well,” Tweek didn’t seem to know what to say, either. “I…you’ve been…”

“Thanks,” Craig said, quickly. For being here. For healing. For being tough enough to walk away, start a new life, for being absolutely fucking awesome in every fucking way. “I…yeah, just…thanks. I’m glad you’re here.”

Tweek made a noise at that. The strong hand on his face gripped slightly, fingers pressing into his cheek, before sliding down to rest on his chest.

Craig didn’t have time to say anything before Tweek leaned up, kissing him solidly on the mouth.

“Oh my God Jimmy, he totally just kissed him.”

He would flip Clyde off right now. Or kick him down the stairs, but Tweek was kissing him and Craig’s brain nearly shut down entirely.

He gripped Tweek’s arm, the one with the hand on his chest, gently squeezing the other hand clasped with his own. Tweek twitched, quickly, breaking the kiss a moment before meeting again, the fingers on his chest curling into his sweater and pulling him closer in.

Craig was feeling lightheaded and finally pulled back, starting to feel like he’d been knocked around a little too much in one day to properly handle this.

Tweek looked almost thrilled with himself. He was grinning, an ugly, adorable thing that had entranced Craig right from the start.

“I think you’re awesome,” Craig blurted. “You’re sticking around with us, right?”

“No shit, Craig,” Tweek said, still practically aglow. “You still have no idea how to not almost kill yourself.”

Yeah, worth it, though. Craig grinned widely enough to rival Tweek, squeezing his hand again.

“Guys, I’m loving this sweet moment but there’s actual police arriving now.”

“Fine, I get it, we gotta go,” Craig reluctantly settled his comm back on. “We’re still interrogating you, you know.”

“I- I don’t know anything!”

“Sure.”

“Who kissed who f-f-first? This is really important, guys. Tolkien might owe me money.”

“Uh, why?” Craig blurted.

“No reason.”

Tweek never let go of his hand, even when they started to slip from the massive damage on scene, leaving frozen, groaning lackeys behind and a looootta money scattered over the stairs.

Should have picked up some for rent.

Craig eyed Tweek carefully on the way back, only half-listening to Jimmy heckle Clyde with some pretty good points.

Tweek caught him staring, still unable to wipe the grin from his face. Craig swallowed.

He didn’t know much about Tweek. When it came down to it, he hadn’t known him for very long at all.

Felt like forever. Like he’d always been here. Part of their crew. Part of Craig’s life.

It was all still new, but… he had a chance to know now. He was totally asking him about those absolutely sickass powers, about how long he’d had them, ask if he was still painting and why it always seemed to be space-related, ask if he’d done his laundry since he moved in or needed help unpacking-

He was looking forward to it. This. Whatever this was becoming, all shiny and new. He hoped he felt the same. He asked, in his own kind of way.

“You regret coming with us, yet?” He asked his boyfriend quietly.

Tweek rolled his eyes, strong hands squeezing Craig’s.

“Not at all,” He said, and the three boys slipped back home unseen.