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2023-01-26
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Fishing in the Dark

Summary:

It’s Craig’s birthday, which would normally be a reason to celebrate, but this year he would be perfectly content to just sit back and watch the day pass him by. His boyfriend, Tweek, however, has other plans.

Notes:

Wishing our favorite blue chullo-wearing Tucker the happiest of happy birthdays! (Story inspired by this country song.)

Work Text:

Craig sighs, flopping over onto his side to face the wall. His cell phone is laying beside him on his bed, the glow of its screen the only source of light to be found in the dark abyss he calls his bedroom. He glances down at it, hoping to see another text message notification pop up, but the image of Red Racer on his home screen just stares blankly back at him, the phone's clock displayed across the fictional race car driver's face reading 11:57 PM. Messages from Tweek have been trickling in and out over the last few hours, but the time between them has been getting increasingly larger, and Craig assumes that his boyfriend must have finally fallen asleep. It's weird for Tweek to be asleep before midnight, but as much as Craig struggles with insomnia sometimes, he knows the blonde has it worse, so the silence is actually a good thing.

He just wishes it didn't make him feel so lonely.

The time changes to 11:58 and Craig tiredly wrinkles his nose in displeasure. If it were up to him, he wouldn't even be having a birthday this year. Somehow, the anniversary of the day he'd been born has fallen right smack dab in the middle of one of the worst times of his life and he would rather just close his eyes and sleep all the way through it than try to fake cheerfulness for a day he really couldn't care any less about.

So, of course, his body has decided that sleep is the one thing he can't do right now. Craig yawns, scooting himself up to lean against his headboard, scooping his phone up along the way. If he's already awake, he supposes, then now might just be the perfect time to do some research. His eyes linger on his messages app for a moment before he taps on the button to open one of his multiple browsers. He's just in the middle of typing out the question that's been burning away inside his brain all night – do they make Red Racer outfits for guinea pigs? – when his phone buzzes in his hands and a notification pops up at the top of the screen.

Can you come outside?

The second the message appears on his screen, Craig sits up in bed and instinctively scans the room, even though logically, he knows there's no way Tweek could've snuck into his room without some kind of tell. Unless he's been hiding in the closet this whole time? Craig leans forward, squinting as he peers into the darkness, but as far as he can tell, there are no Tweek-shaped silhouettes anywhere to be found. Frowning, he looks back down at the message and then up to his bedroom window, on the opposite side of the room from his bed. Keeping his phone held tightly in his hand, Craig kicks off his blankets and stands, walking over to investigate.

Sure enough, Tweek's little blue Ford Focus is outside, idling at the curb in front of the Tucker's house. Already concerned, Craig grabs the nearest t-shirt he can find and slips it over his head, decides that the pajama pants he's wearing will be good enough, and texts back, Coming. Are you okay?

Just come outside.

As silently as he can, Craig opens his creaky-ass bedroom door and makes his way down the hall to the stairs. He's so preoccupied with worry that he leaves his precious chullo behind, in the pile of laundry on the floor he'd tossed it in earlier that night. He can't remember Tweek ever doing anything like this before – and he remembers everything about Tweek – so that's saying something. There's a decidedly disconcerting twisty feeling in his stomach that's insisting that something terrible must have happened that Craig just can't shake.

As soon as he pops open the passenger-side door of the Focus and slides inside, Craig's eyes are on Tweek, searching the blonde's face for any sign of distress. He doesn't seem to be upset – he's smiling, and his eyes still have their usual sparkle – but considering he's still shown up outside Craig's house in the middle of night for no reason, that doesn't exactly ease any of the noirette's fears. He knows better than most that Tweek is more likely to try to hide his emotions than willingly admit to any of them, so as not to be a burden to anyone.

"Where's your hat?" Tweek is asking him, though his voice sounds much further away than it should. "Your ears are going to get cold."

Thanks to Craig's tired, anxious brain, cycling through a million possible scenarios that could explain what his boyfriend is doing here at this hour on a Tuesday night, he's having a hard time processing that Tweek has even spoken at all. It's not until he vaguely feels the sudden warmth of two hands clasping his own, and Tweek leans over to plant a gentle kiss right on Craig's lips that he manages to pull himself out of his brain fog.

"Hey," Tweek says softly, lightly trailing his fingers along Craig's cheek, "you okay?"

"Are you?" Craig blurts out a little too loudly, finally finding his voice again. "What are you doing here? Did something happen?"

Tweek pulls back, giving Craig another one of his signature sweet smiles that have the magical ability to melt the noirette into a puddle of lovestruck goo. "I'm fine," he reassures his boyfriend, "I just have a surprise for you."

Mildly relieved, but mostly confused, Craig blinks. "At midnight?"

Tweek nods. "Yes," he replies, as if it's perfectly normal, tapping his fingers against the Focus' steering wheel. "But we can't go anywhere until you buckle your seatbelt, so…"

"Oh." Craig pulls the seatbelt strap over his body and clicks it into place, still not quite sure what exactly is going on but willing to let it happen only because it's Tweek. Tweek never does anything without a good reason; even his so-called impulsive moves only ever happen after he's put approximately two hours of thought into them. If it were Clyde dragging him out to God knows where in the middle of the night, claiming it was for some kind of "surprise", Craig would be a lot more apprehensive, but Tweek? Tweek, he trusts.

Once they're out of Craig's neighborhood and onto the main road, Tweek reaches over and takes one of Craig's hands again, giving it a gentle squeeze that the noirette doesn't hesitate to return. Neither of them speak, but they hold hands for the entire length of the trip, which takes much more time than Craig had been expecting. They'd passed the sign for the South Park town limits almost ten minutes ago. He glances over at Tweek, as if waiting for him to realize that they've accidentally gone too far, but the blonde seems to be perfectly calm. Craig settles back in his seat and looks out the window as the scenery zooms by, a dark blur in the night.

Eventually, Tweek slows the vehicle down, drifting off onto the side of the road, and cuts the engine. He turns to Craig as he pulls the keys out of the ignition and says, "Ready?"

"Uh." Craig looks around. As far as he can tell, they're literally out in the middle of nowhere. What kind of surprise could Tweek have for him out here? "This is it?"

"This is it," Tweek confirms, unfastening his own seatbelt and gesturing for Craig to do the same. "Are you excited?"

Craig chews on his lower lip for a moment, still trying to piece this all together. A sudden thought strikes him and he's grateful for the darkness when he feels himself blushing. "Honey," he says, "you're not, uh– I mean, you know that was just, like, a fantasy, right? We don't actually have to," he clears his throat, "do it in the middle of a dirt road, especially if it's the first–"

"What?!" Tweek interrupts him with a loud burst of uncontrollable laughter, almost dropping his car keys. At the look on Craig's face, he claps a hand over his mouth, though a few little chuckles still escape from between his fingers. "I'm sorry," he apologizes, "I'm not making fun of you! You're just so cute sometimes." He grabs Craig's hand again, intertwining their fingers before the noirette can pull away. "Honestly, I wasn't even thinking about that," Tweek admits, his lips curving into a mischievous smile when he manages to catch Craig's eye, "but I mean… If you want, after what I have planned, maybe we could…?" He lets the sentence linger in the air for a moment.

Craig can feel his face turning redder by the second, both from embarrassment and the images that flood his brain at Tweek's suggestion. "Uh, well," he mumbles, awkwardly twisting in his seat to unclick his seatbelt with his right arm, "we should probably, uh, if you had plans, we should definitely do those first and then…see where we're at?" He's trying not to sound too eager, but even he can hear in his tone that he's not very convincing.

"Deal." Tweek lets go of Craig's hand and pops open his door. "C'mon, I gotta get some stuff from the back."

Craig follows him out of the car and around to the trunk. By the time he gets there, Tweek has already pulled out a huge wicker picnic basket, some blankets and pillows, and is in the process of retrieving two fishing poles. Craig's eyes widen when he sees the assortment of supplies and he looks at Tweek, almost in wonder. "Babe, what did you do?"

"You'll see!" Tweek hands him the fishing poles and a pile of blankets, and then hooks one arm through the basket's handle as he grabs the pillows. "Follow me, it's just through here."

He leads Craig off the road, along a surprisingly well-worn path into a row of trees, lit only by the light of the moon above them. Craig debates if it's worth it to try to dig his phone out of his pocket to use the flashlight to see better, but ultimately decides that he'd probably end up dropping everything in the process, so he doesn't. Somehow, Tweek seems to know exactly where he's going and that's good enough for Craig.

It's only a few minutes before they reach a clearing in the trees, and what Craig sees when they stop and he gets a good look at his surroundings actually makes his jaw drop. In front of them is a little lake, not much bigger than Stark's Pond back in South Park, but – as evidenced by the soft glow of the moonlight shining on the surface of the water – this lake is infinitely cleaner. It's clear that nobody has ever been here, tossing empty beer cans and old cigarette butts into the water without a second thought. In fact, it seems to Craig like nobody has ever been here, period, judging by how undisturbed everything looks.

"Tweek," his voice comes out as a hushed, almost awed, whisper, "what is this place?"

Tweek sets the picnic basket and pillows down and turns to take the blankets from Craig's arms. "I don't think the lake is big enough to have a name," he says, carefully spreading one of the blankets out over the snow-dusted grass, "but isn't it nice out here?"

"Babe, anywhere is nice when I'm with you." The cheesy sentiment tumbles out of Craig's mouth before he can think about it and even he cringes at the sickeningly sweetness of it.

Tweek, somehow not immediately getting diabetes from Craig's compliment, just smiles and continues fussing with the blanket for a moment. Finally satisfied with its placement, he beckons Craig over as he begins to arrange the pillows in a line. "Come sit with me."

Craig lays the fishing poles next to the blanket and obeys, lowering himself down onto the soft fleece beside his boyfriend. A cool breeze, made even cooler by the nearby water, blows over them and he shivers, regretting not changing out of his thin pajama pants into something more suited for being outside in January. Tweek notices and drapes a second blanket over their bodies, scooting right up next to Craig, who sighs blissfully, thankful that his boyfriend is a human furnace.

"Better?" Tweek asks, wrapping one arm around Craig's shoulders, stretching his other arm out to drag the picnic basket closer.

"Perfect." Craig watches as Tweek flips the basket's lid open and begins removing its contents with all the one-handed grace he can muster: various wrapped sandwiches, a few apples, a Tupperware container full of cupcakes, and a few cans of soda. "Honey, not that I don't appreciate you doing all this – because I do – but…why?"

"Because it's your birthday." Tweek passes Craig a sandwich, which the noirette takes, setting it beside him, not quite hungry enough to eat it just yet. "And I know you said you didn't want to celebrate it, or even acknowledge it, this year, but… I couldn't just do nothing, especially since you've been going through so much lately." The blonde looks down, twisting a piece of the blanket between his fingers. "I just wanted to do something special for you, and when I found this place… It reminded me so much of you, the way it feels so safe; the way it's so calm yet full of surprises. I had to share it with you."

Craig's eyes are already watering before Tweek has even finished speaking. He swipes at his face with the back of his hand. "Jesus Christ," he mumbles, "how the hell do you always do that?"

"Do what?"

"You know," Craig sniffles quietly, "make me feel like the luckiest guy in the world."

Tweek leans closer, pressing a kiss to the side of Craig's face, his blonde hair brushing against his boyfriend's ear. "I'm the lucky one," he whispers, sending a shiver down the noirette's spine, "because I have you."

After they eat – or in Craig's case, gnaw absently at an apple while wondering what he'd ever done in life to deserve someone like the blonde picture of perfection sitting beside him – Tweek leans across Craig to snag the fishing poles. "Here," he says, giving one to Craig, "you wanna try to catch something?"

Craig looks down at the pole, strangely heavy in his hand, a myriad of emotions flickering across his face.

"It's okay if you don't," Tweek adds quickly, placing his hand on top of Craig's reassuringly, "I mean, if you're not ready to– I know you guys had your own tradition," he says, rubbing slow circles into the back of Craig's hand with his thumb, "so if you want to just lay down and look at the stars, we can do that too."

"No," Craig answers after a long moment, tearing his eyes from the fishing pole to meet Tweek's gaze, "it's okay. We can go fishing, if you want to."

"Are you sure?" When Craig simply nods, Tweek returns the gesture. "Okay." His own fishing pole in hand, he crawls over Craig to nestle himself in between the noirette's legs with his back resting against Craig's chest. "I'm gonna sit here, though, okay? You know. So you don't get cold."

It takes them both a couple of tries before they manage to cast their lines properly into the water without getting them tangled together. Once they do, Tweek leans back, tilting his head up to look at the stars twinkling high above them. Craig takes the opportunity to kiss him on the forehead and then follows his gaze when the blonde points up to the sky.

"Hey," Tweek says, "are there any fish constellations?"

Craig's response is automatic, courtesy of years and years of an obsession with space that hasn't lessened as he's gotten older. "Yeah," he says, "Pisces."

"Oh, right." Craig watches as Tweek's eyes scan the sky. "Where is it?"

"Uh…" Craig frowns in concentration. "There, right there, see where those stars make that, like, v-shape? Over there by Pegasus?"

"Hmm," Tweek hums, wrinkling his nose in the most adorable way. "That's weird, isn't it?"

"What's weird?"

"I mean, don't you think it's weird for a flying horse to be so close to a fish?" Tweek asks. It's impossible to tell if he's being serious or not until he turns his head to look at Craig, revealing the small smile tugging at his lips.

Craig shrugs lightly, careful not to move his shoulder too much. "I don't know," he says, "is it any weirder than you being so close to me?" He doesn't mean for his question to come out sounding so sad, only realizing it when the smile falls from Tweek's face. The blonde sits up, letting his fishing pole tumble to the ground as he turns all the way around until he's sitting on his knees in front of the noirette.

"Craig," Tweek says, the seriousness in both his eyes and his tone catching Craig off guard, "is this about what Stan said yesterday?"

Craig averts his gaze, focusing on a corner of the blanket that's rippling in the breeze. "No," he replies, although they both know he's lying.

Tweek sighs. "I was saving this for when I dropped you off at home," he says, reaching out to gently take Craig by the chin and turn his head back to face him again, "but I think maybe you might need to hear it now. Look at me." He waits for Craig's eyes to finally wander back up to connect with his own and then Tweek says, his voice just above a whisper, almost lost in the wind, "I love you, Craig Tucker. Okay? Whatever those guys want to say, it doesn't matter. Because I love you. I'll always love you. That's a promise."

Craig blinks, a few tears trickling out of his eyes and down his cheeks. He has to be dreaming; between the clearing, the picnic, the moonlight, and Tweek's confession, this is all far too good to be true. "You do?"

"Yes." Tweek's voice is strong, so much more confident than Craig has ever heard before.

Still, he can't help the feelings of insecurity and uncertainty from rising up inside him. Swallowing hard, he whispers, "Are you sure?"

Tweek leans forward, wrapping both arms around his boyfriend and holding him tightly. "Yes, I'm sure, Craig," he says softly, "but if you need me to, I'll say it as many times as you want."

Craig hesitantly glances down at the fishing pole in his hand before setting it down on the blanket and returning the hug, resting his chin on Tweek's shoulder. "I don't know what I did to deserve you," he murmurs, not even trying to keep the emotion out of his voice, "but God, honey, I love you too. So, so much." His eyes fall on the lake, glimmering in the moonlight, and in true Craig Tucker fashion, he speaks without thinking when a question pops up in his mind. "Are there even any fish in this place?"

Tweek laughs, the bright, happy sound pulling at Craig's heartstrings and only making him want to hold him even closer. God, he loves that sound. "I don't know," the blonde admits, "I didn't actually check." He runs his fingers down Craig's back, grazing the sensitive area of skin just below his t-shirt. "But…does it matter?"

"No," Craig decides, because the only thing on this planet that matters to him right now is already safely secured in his arms, "it really doesn't."

"Happy birthday, Craig," Tweek murmurs, pulling back just enough so he can shoot his boyfriend another mischievous little grin. "Now isn't this better than doing it on a dirt road?"