Chapter Text
Everyone said they were too young to marry, but when Craig got down on one knee Tweek was so sure that this was what he wanted—that they would last, and Marriage wasn't so scary for a while.
The town was sure excited. Everyone pitched in as much money as they could to guarantee a wedding.
Tweek thought he and Craig had something special. Now, he's not sure if they're getting married because they want to or because there's an entire town expecting them to, even putting money on it.
Since Kindergarten they've been told that Marriage is something everyone should want. What they're not told is how stressful wedding planning is. There's so much pressure to be happy— to be sure that all the money and bookings and phone calls are worth it to spend one day celebrating their love, and Tweek doesn't get it.
He loves Craig. He loves waking up next to Craig and falling asleep next to him at night. He loves making cupcakes together and cuddling up during thunderstorms— that much he's certain about.
There are two months until the wedding, and Tweek has about a million things running through his mind. The flowers. The food. The vows. The suits— should he call the tailor? She's had their suits for three weeks and hasn't gotten back to them.
"Tweek, Sweetheart, I'm here to help."
His Mother says, taking both of his shaky hands in hers. A Mothers touch is supposed to be soothing, but Tweek has always associated it with impending danger. He grunts, trying to will his body to stop twitching.
"I—I need to call the florist, and we still haven't decided on a band— and the tailor is taking too long— and— argh!"
Craig has taken on all the responsibility he can, but working nights has drained all of his energy. Tweek has to do this for him; has to make it easy for Craig even if it’s killing him.
"Alright. I'll call the Tailor, why don't you go wake up Craig and talk about the band. Take all the time you need, there's no rush." She says in that earnest, Motherly tone. Most kids' Mothers dote on them during their Wedding— they cry and coddle and coo about their precious Babies— Tweeks Mother has never been like that. She's a hard woman, and she spends too much time worrying about him to even consider being happy for him.
"Okay," Tweek says dejectedly, chugging back the rest of his Coffee and picking up the cup he made for Craig. While Tweek has always liked it black, Craig needs a pile of sugar and cream to tolerate the taste.
Tweeks Mother picks up the phone and flips through the phone book. Soon, she's dialing numbers and talking in that smooth charismatic voice she uses for customers at the coffeehouse.
Tweek stands on weak knees and heads for their shared bedroom. He cracks the door open to peer in at his soon-to-be-husbands sleeping face, and then slips in as quickly as he can do to not wake him with the light from the hallway.
"Craig,"
Tweek whispers, voice crackly and hoarse from screaming into his pillow. Craig stirs, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and sitting up.
He's always looked so content while sleepy, never grumpy to wake up like Tweek is. His cheeks are puffy, and his lips are chapped, and he looks so cuddly. Tweek sets down the coffee on their nightstand and sits on the edge beside Craig, running his hands through his thick black hair.
"Sleep well?"
Craig smiles "Yeah. I missed you last night."
Tweek had fallen asleep before Craig got home— and he'd been upset about it, too. He'd rented a movie they'd been wanting to watch together.
"S—Sorry. I brought you coffee."
Craig hums and picks up the cup, taking a small sip.
"My Mom's over to help. We should decide on a band."
"We should."
They talk for a while, debating back and fourth on which band should play at the reception. What starts as simple conversation slowly escalate's— how does it start? Something Tweek said too sharply, or Craig's sarcastic tone kicking in?
In any case, soon they're full-blown fighting. Tweek hates fighting with Craig— especially over trivial things like the band. This isn't the hill he wants to die on, but he's all wired from his Mothers presence and the stress of the planning.
"All I'm saying is that whether he's good or not, having Clyde's band would be really special—"
"Special? Clyde's your best man— his speech can be special— his music is awful!"
Tweek thinks about how 15 minutes ago he was waking Craig up with a fond smile, and now he's so angry that he's actually yelling.
"Maybe it is! I don't care! All that should matter is that he'll be entertaining, and he's a friend!"
He takes a deep breath, clenching his fists. Tweek closes his eyes and shakes his head "You're right. I'm sorry. I don't want to fight."
Craig's eyes soften and he extends his arms "Me neither. C'mere Honey"
Tweek sits on Craigs lap, legs on either side of him, and nuzzles into the crook of his neck.
"Clyde is good. People like him— they won't care if his music sucks ass."
He mumbles, breathing in the comforting scent of his Fiancé.
"I get what you mean, though. About their music sucking. Maybe we can get Clyde to DJ instead?"
Tweek smiles "Yeah. Good idea."
Craig rubs his back gently "I love you" he whispers, like he has to remind himself. "I love you too," Tweek replies reflexively.
They sit like that for a while, whilst the sun peaks out from behind the curtains. It's mid-day, and there's still a lot to be done.
"I should check in with my Mom," Tweek says begrudgingly, sitting up. Craig presses one chaste kiss to his lips "Right. I'll be out in a minute."
And so Tweek stands and fixes his hair, straightening his neckline. He walks out of their bedroom and into the mess that is their apartment, listening to his Mother sweet-talk the tailor into making their suits higher priority.
"I know you have some very wealthy clients, but I assure you that I can tip you quite lucratively if you can have those suits done by next week."
She drones into the phone, humming softly in greeting. Tweek pours himself another cup of coffee and sits across from her,
"Thank you Sir. Keep in touch."
Tweeks Mother has always had a lovely customer service voice. She hangs up and gives Tweek a little frown.
"They'll be ready next week. I heard yelling, is everything okay with you two?"
Tweek grimaces "Yeah. Just been stressful lately. Craig's working nights so we hardly see each other, and when we do all we can talk about is planning."
"You'll get through it."
That's what everyone keeps telling them— it's just a rough patch, they'll get through it and after the wedding everything will go back to normal. It doesn't feel like that— in fact, it feels like with each passing day they're closer to calling the whole thing off. Tweek knows that he's for sure getting tired of the near constant bickering.
He can't stop thinking that they're just too young. They're fresh out of University, and just moved to Denver together, They're not financially stable and Tweek can't seem to hold a job. He's worked at about 8 different café's and all of them have claimed that he's too twitchy and can't handle fast paced environments— and it's true. In South Park, Tweek never had 18 customers at once who all needed different things. In South Park he had everyone's orders memorized, and could make them by heart.
Because of this instability, Craig has been forced to work the night shift as a security guard. In a bad area in Denver it's dangerous, too. It's not an ideal situation— that much is no secret.
"Mom, is this a mistake? I love Craig, but are we too young? We're just scraping by as it is, and—and—"
"Tweek, breathe. Marriage is a big thing, and if you wanted to cut some expenses on the ceremony I would understand that, but you and Craig love each other. Commit to it,"
There she goes in that smooth voice— the one that could convince Tweek of anything. When she says it like that, he believes it. He and Craig love each other, that’s all that matters, and all of this will be worth it.
"Okay," Tweek breathes "Sorry."
"Don't apologize Honey, it's normal to have doubts."
Just as Tweek is opening his mouth to reply, he hears the familiar creak of the bedroom door swinging open. Instead, he sips from his mug and stares at the coffee table.
"Hey Mrs. Tweak, thanks for helping us out so much."
Craig says, smiling softly and sitting next to Tweek.
"It's no problem. I remember my wedding— problems came one after another and eventually I was considering calling the whole thing off."
Tweek bites his thumb nail.
"And—?" Tweek shrieks,
"What?"
"What changed!"
"Oh," She mindlessly tidies up the coffee table, stacking papers and re-organizing knick knacks "I looked too good in my dress to let it go to waste." She says with a tight-lipped smile.
Craig slings an arm around Tweeks shoulder, nodding along to the story. There's an air of animosity between them still, live like it could catch flame at any moment.
Tweek sips his second cup of coffee, twitching so hard that it nearly spills. His Mother continues to tidy away, helping in the only way she knows how to.
"It's okay Mom, I'll clean today."
Mrs. Tweak smiles and shakes her head "No, no. You two should go out somewhere, I'll clean and you can get a break from all this stress."
Tweek grits his teeth, clutching his mug in his lap like it's a lifeline. He see's what she's doing, and though it's incredibly sweet he doesn't think it's possible for it to work.
"Alright," Craig agrees immediately "Where do you want to go, Tweek?"
Tweek blinks and looks at his Fiancé, who's remaining so calm and cool when he's surely wanting to stay home. He takes a deep breath and shrugs "Where— Wherever you want to go, Craig"
Mrs. Tweak smiles earnestly "How about the amusement park?"
They shouldn't be here. Oh God. Tweek still has so many things to do today— he has to call the florist, and— and—
"You still like the ferris wheel?" Craig asks, gesturing to the giant ride. Tweek nods hesitantly, mind racing with all the responsibilities he had.
"Wait, Craig, we need to call Clyde and let him know and—"
"Tweek, we can do that tomorrow. Today you can forget about all of that."
It's easy for him to say. Craig has hardly done anything— Tweek knows that he's providing for them, but he's still bitter. Of course Craig can forget so easily, because he doesn't have any responsibilities.
"Ugh! Fine!" Tweek snaps, getting in line for the carousel. Craig frowns, following in tow.
The line is relatively short— it is, after all, a Tuesday afternoon. In a couple of minutes they're boarding the ferris wheel.
The last time they were here, Tweek was freaking out about final exams. The time before, it was the American President instigating the North Korean President. Now, it's their wedding— supposedly the happiest day of their lives, and he’s freaking out all the same.
It seems that no matter what they do differently, they always wind up here in the exact same scenario. Tweek thinks about all the things he wishes he'd done in the past two years. He should have quit drinking coffee, and made more progress in therapy, and been a better boyfriend, and visited his parents more often—
"Tweek, I know this wedding has been a lot on you. I'm sorry I haven't been helping out enough."
Craig says, voice as devoid of emotion as ever.
"You work so much, I understand Craig—"
"It's still not okay. I haven't been making enough time for you, and that's not fair."
Tweek sighs deeply, curling up on the uncomfortable metal seat. "You're perfect Craig. It's my fault for being so dysfunctional" he mumbles, chewing his bottom lip. Craig gently turns his chin to make eye contact "You're not dysfunctional. I see you Tweek—you're doing the best you can. I appreciate it."
Those words could make Tweek tear up, if he weren't so guilty; he's still thinking of calling the whole thing off and running back home to work at his parents' coffeehouse. It would all be so easy, and he wouldn't have to worry as much. He feels stupid— how could he take care of someone else when he can hardly take care of himself?
"Thanks." Tweek says, voice cracking slightly. He means it, but he's overcome by this feeling that he's forgetting something for the rest of the day. Maybe it makes him a little more antsy and a little less present. Maybe Craig notices how distracted he is going over every detail of their Wedding in his mind.
Finally, just as the ride is coming to a stop, it clicks.
"Food."
Tweek gasps
"Craig, I haven't even thought about food yet! We're going to have a hundred guests and nothing to feed them— gah!"
"Relax Tweek, we can just—"
"Please don't tell me to relax— ngh— maybe that french place Down town?"
"Yeah, that sounds good, we can call them tomorrow"
Tweek takes a shuddering breath "Or I can call them now" He says, reaching into his pocket. Craig takes his hand, holding it with two of his. He's always had warm hands, while Tweeks are perpetually cold.
"Tomorrow," Craig insists "Right now you're taking a break— and you deserve it, Honey."
He's right. Craig has always been there for him. Tweek knows that whenever he decides that he's more trouble then he's worth and leaves, Tweek will be a lost cause. Maybe he'll relapse and start putting meth in his coffee again, and from there it will be an endless spiral.
That's too much pressure on Craig. Tweek needs to be okay alone. He needs to find himself outside of his relationship, and move as far away from South Park as he can, and—and—
"Babe? the ride stopped, we can get out”
Tweek flinches, whisper-screaming to let out some of his pent-up energy. He looks at his boyfriend— no, his Fiancé, and his heart throbs in his chest.
"I love you" He blurts. Craig offers him a sideways smile, brow quirking up "I love you too. Seriously though, we're holding up the ride"
They climb out of the ferris wheel, and suddenly the park smells far too strongly of cotton candy, and the lights are too bright, and everyone is laughing too loud, and Tweek freezes. He covers his ears and tears up, eyes screwing shut to limit his sensory intake. He feels sick, like the sun is burning him alive and he's about to throw up his innards.
"This is— I can't— We need to—" Tweek starts three different sentences at once. His words come out strangled and inaudible. He stumbles to a bench to steady himself on, and wills the sickness away.
After a few moments of focusing on his breathing, Tweek remembers that Craig has been with him the whole time— his presence is not imposing in the slightest. He does not talk and risk adding to Tweeks anxiety, he simply rubs his back and keeps him steady. The thought brings another wave of shame over Tweek; how could he even think about leaving someone as perfect for him as Craig? No one else gets him, they don't even try. Craig listens and changes and all he asks is that Tweek doesn't harm himself. Its simple, isn't it? He should stay with Craig. He has to. There's no one else that could handle him.
"Do you want to go home?"
Craig asks when Tweek's breathing has returned to normal. Tweek nods wordlessly, worried his voice will come out weaker then he'd like.
When they get home, the place is spotless. There are no dishes in the sink, and the counters are pristine, and the piles of unfinished invitations are sorted into neat piles on the coffee table.
"Fuck, she really meant it" Craig says, mouth agape. Tweek looks around, brows furrowed "She cleaned everything," he remarks, peaking into their room. He really owes his Mother a thank you over the phone, but he's too tired from the day to even consider it.
"Tell you what," Craig says, hugging him from behind "If you nap with me I'll wake up early and make dinner?"
"You don't have to—"
"I want to. Besides, I sleep better when I'm with you anyways. It's a win-win."
On Tweeks tired legs, the thought is very tempting. But he has to call the caterer, and Clyde, and those invitations—
"I know what you're thinking," Craig interrupts his thought process "It'll all still be there tomorrow. Tweek. We have two months to figure these last few things out, and I'll be with you every step of the way."
Tweek just about melts to his knees at that. He lets himself be dragged to the bedroom, plopping down next to Craig. He curls up, head buried in the fabric of his Fiancé's shirt, and lets himself rest.
Tweek doesn't remember the last time he's slept without whatever anxiety from the day before plaguing his nightmares. He dreams of laying in a field of flowers, sun warming his skin and soft grass on his cheeks. He's alone, at first, looking up at the soft clouds. He's sure he's alone. But then he feels the press of gentle lips against the side of his neck, the way Craig kisses him in the morning, and he turns to his side. Sure enough, his boyfriend is there.
And then Tweek understands— this is where he's meant to be. He belongs like this, under the sun with his too-good-to-be-true boyfriend. The breeze cools his flushed face, and words tumble out of his mouth before he can think.
"I'm so happy to be marrying you, but I'm scared. I'm scared all the time. What if— what if you leave me and I spiral? I can't put that pressure on you, but I know that it's true. I need to be okay without you, but I don't want to be without you. The entire town wants us to be together, I feel like you just don't want to let them down and resent me for not breaking up with you all those years ago."
Dream-Craig just smiles and kisses his cheek, offering wordless affirmation.
"When the weddings over, we’ll be happy— that’s what everyone keeps saying, but the damage has still been done.”
Tweek mumbles, eyes drifting shut. Somewhere in the distance, birds are chirping. They're settling down in little nests together, they’re happy. It’s easy for them.
He jostles awake after that, mildly disoriented before he remembers the time. Tweek sits up in bed, and he's alone. It's still evening, and the room is dim, but there's music playing in the kitchen.
Tweek rubs his eyes and stands up, shivering at the coldness of the hardwood floor. He opens the bedroom door, blinking to adjust to the light. Tweek walks towards the kitchen, looking around in a tired haze.
The music playing in the kitchen is something his Dad might enjoy, if he weren’t so obsessed with jazz; the kind of rock that only old-souls like Craig still listen to. Tweek smiles to himself, lingering in the doorway to watch his Fiancé strain some spaghetti.
"Hey," Tweek says, eyes half-lidded with drowsiness. Craig turns around with a wide smile, accidentally splashing boiling water on himself in the process.
"Ah!"he exclaims, voice devoid of any real distress as he runs his hand under warm water.
"Woah, you okay?" Tweek says, rushing to Craig's side and examining his hand for a mark. There's a faint redness on his palm but it doesn't look too bad, and Craig is already waving him off anyways.
"I'm okay. I, uh, made us some dinner, if you're hungry"
Tweeks stomach growls comedically. He laughs "Yeah, I'm pretty hungry."
They eat and chat and for a while it's all perfect, but then a silence settles over them and the tension from before creeps back in.
"I should get going," Craig says, looking at the clock. It's nearly 8, he has to leave for his shift. Tweek nods "Yeah. I'll try to stay up again tonight, the movie rental doesn't expire for a couple days still."
Craig smiles at him, eyes glistening with adoration "Sure," he gives Tweek a quick peck on the cheek and then he's out the door and Tweek is left alone with his thoughts again.
He reminds himself that he wants this— and it's true, but if marriage is making him this miserable then maybe he's simply not ready.
The next day, Tweek takes his Mother out to lunch to thank her. She's been staying in a motel down the road to help them, the least he can do is treat her to a meal.
It's always been a bit awkward with them, but he loves his Mom. He comes to her for advice and she complains about his Dad. It took a while, but they've developed a strong relationship.
As a kid, Tweek never would have imagined being this close with his Mom. Truth be told he was scared of her— that, and she never seemed to understand the roots of his anxiety. Still, she's always done her best for him.
That's why he trusts her with this.
"Mom, I think I'm going to call the Wedding off."
Mrs. Tweek is silent for a moment, choosing her words.
"You love him, don't you?" She says, like she’s talking to a child. Tweek can’t find it in himself to blame her.
He nods, "I love him too much, but it's not enough to just love him. I rely on him."
"Are you worried that if he breaks up with you, you'll turn to the meth again?" Mrs. Tweek says with a grimace. She's the one who allowed her son to be given meth-filled coffee at the young age of 8– she stood by and now it's ruining his life. Tweek nods sharply, and then he realizes it:
It's not the wedding planning, or the pressure, or the night-shift, or the lack of time spent together. It's them. Something is fundamentally wrong with the foundation of their relationship. Unless something—unless they change, they will destroy each other. The issue? Craig loves Tweek unconditionally, and if Tweek always has him to fall back on then he will never be able to change.
There's only one way this can end.
"Do it, Tweek."
Mrs. Tweak says, "I should have left your Father all those years ago. I'm not unhappy— he gave me you, and I love you with all my heart, but your Father and I’s Marriage has fallen apart. Don't live with the regret— don't spend the rest of your life wondering. If he loves you, he’ll understand,” She breaks into a Mom-lecture
”And who knows, maybe you do have a future together. Maybe you’ll find each other again later in life, and you’ll fall in love with the people you’ve become.”
Tweek smiles bitter-sweetly. She’s right.
"Craig, we need to talk."
There aren't many positive conversations that start with "Can we talk". Craig blinks, sitting down on the couch next to his Fiancé.
"Sure," he says, voice wobbling a little. He's nervous, but he shouldn't be. Things have been better lately— they're spending more time together, and the wedding is all but finished planning.
Tweek sighs deeply, picking at his cuticles. His hands are bloody, like they get when he's been thinking too hard. Craig holds them, kissing his fingertips gently. "You're hurting yourself. What's going on?"
By Tweeks reaction, Craig almost doesn't want to know the answer. He shrinks, eyes wide and mouth downturned. Craig knows that look. He's decided something in his head— whatever it is, he's made up his mind already and won't be reasoned with. Craig gulps.
"I love you— you know that. The thing is, you're kind of, um, the only thing keeping me from spiralling. And that's too much pressure."
Tweek says. Craig shakes his head "Have a little faith in yourself Tweek—"
"It's true. We both know that. I need—um—" He pulls his hands away, avoiding eye-contact.
"I need to be okay alone. This isn't fair to you."
Craig blinks back tears. They're getting married, this isn't fair— they shouldn't be breaking up now. What will the town think? Their parents? What is he meant to do now?
"Tweek, we can work this out. You've made so much progress in therapy, you'll be okay—"
"No, I won't! This isn't healthy, and I know overthinking everything but I know that this is for the best."
This can't be happening, Craig balls his shaking hands into fists. Has he done something? Craig thought it was clear— he never intended on leaving Tweek, he's never even considered it. He's never believed in a "one true love", but if he did it would be Tweek.
"I love you, Tweek. I think I always will."
Tweeks eyes soften, and for a moment he looks to be considering. Instead, he picks up a suitcase.
He's already packed. How long has he been planning this? Weighing out his options, consulting his Mother— how many people have known this was coming and still smiled and nodded at Craig, knowing that he's been living a fantasy?
"I have to do this. Maybe— maybe this is just a break. I don't know. I don't want to keep you on the hook."
Tweek says, voice wobbling. He lingers, as if waiting to be objected. Craig, ever passive, stops trying.
"Go then. If this is what you need, I won't stop you."
Chapter 2
Summary:
Craig is fine.
His eyes seem more deep-set these days. The night shifts have really taken a toll on him, and now he has to work another job as rent keeps getting higher. It's been six months since when they would have been married. Craig wonders how things would have been different— if he would have been happier.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Coffee shops:
Craig can't stand them. He always opts to go in the drive through instead. It's a shame that something so essential to start his day always resurfaces those feelings he's tried to forget.
The smell, the sound of it brewing, the warmth of a mug in his palm. Tweek always smelled of coffee, it stained his clothes and his nails were crusted with grounds.
Craig sighs thoughtfully, pointer finger bending in a caressing movement on the mug in his hand. He gazes into the cup at his own reflection.
His eyes seem more deep-set these days. The night shifts have really taken a toll on him, and now he has to work another job as rent keeps getting higher. It's been six months since when they would have been married. Craig wonders how things would have been different— if he would have been happier.
"Craig,"
Clyde's voice interrupts Craig from his thoughts. Of all places, they had to meet up in a coffee shop.
"Sorry," Craig clears his throat "I just— can we go somewhere else?"
Clyde looks around, and then a lightbulb seems to go off in his head. "Yeah, sure man." He stands up, leaving some money on the table. Craig tugs on his coat and scarf and they leave without their drinks, heading for the park across the street and sitting on a bench to chat.
"How is Tweek?" Craig asks— he can't help himself. Clyde's nose scrunches a little, but he bites. "He's good. Bought a tiny little house with some of the, uh, wedding money. He's working full time at Tweak Bros. now."
Craig bites his cheek, "Good," he says through his teeth "does he, um," he closes his eyes, stopping himself before he sounds too pathetic. Clyde smiles "He misses you. Apparently he was talking Tolkien's ear off about it."
Then why not come back, Craig thinks bitterly. He takes a deep breath and reminds himself that he's not part of Tweeks life anymore, and that's okay.
It's true, after he left Craig was upset for a while. He tried to push it down, and it only made him bitter for longer. He's angry, more then anything, but not because Tweek left. Craig is angry that he waited so long— lured him into a false sense of security and then cut him off like it was nothing. He said that Craig was the only thing keeping him from spiraling, but he seems to have done pretty well— besides, he can't have needed Craig if he cut him off that easily.
"Dude, do you want to talk about it?" Clyde asks. He's been gritting his teeth.
Craig shakes his head "No, no. I'm not sad or anything— I mean, I miss him and all, but I'm more mad at him."
Clyde nods "Yeah, it was a dick move."
"Now he's living alone and working with his parents and he seems so happy— was I holding him back?"
Clyde sighs deeply "You aren't going to want to hear this, but yeah. He's really grown into himself. He was holding you back, too. Now that you've both grown, I have a feeling you two will find each other again."
Craig's brows pinch together. He wants to have that kind of hope, but it seems so impossible. Their lives are headed in different directions now. Tweek is living out the simple life he always swore he didn't want, and Craig is in the city working two jobs to make ends meet. The worst part? That was Craig's dream. He always wanted to stay in South Park— to live in a little house together and work stable jobs.
He's grown, sure. He's not as docile as he was with Tweek. He sticks up for himself, and he's just graduated Teachers College, and he's happy.
When he's not drinking coffee, which happens to be every morning.
Still, he hasn't actively missed Tweek in a long time.
"Anyways," Clyde segues "your parents wanted me to ask you to come home for Christmas."
Craig frowns "What are the chances I'll run into him?" he says lightheartedly. Clyde grins "Almost guaranteed. Bet you don't miss that about small towns." Craig rolls his eyes.
"I'll go. I can't avoid him forever, I guess."
"You're brave for that. I'd probably be a hermit forever if I was you."
They're quiet for a while after that, and it's awkward. Craig isn't particularly fond of talking to people from his home town outside of his home town— it feels too much like worlds colliding and messes with his head. Even if Clyde is practically family, it will always be weird.
"You know, I still have the speech I wrote for your Wedding. It's pretty good, if you want to hear it?"
Craig bites his chapped lip. This will set him back, but he can't help it.
"Yeah, I want to hear it."
Clyde clears his throat, perking up and pulling a piece of paper from his coat pocket. He unfolds it, eyes scanning the lines for a moment.
And the speech— it truly is perfect. It captures the ups and downs of their relationship, the separation and heartache. It's full of stories about their old pet guinea pig, their dumb arguments, and their meeting.
Clyde has always worn his heart on his sleeve. While reading out this speech he wrote on what was meant to be the happiest day of his two best friends' lives, he sniffles. Craig does, too, embarrassingly. He can't help but imagine what it would have been like to hear this masterpiece on his Wedding day.
Would Tweek have cried? Would his Dad have patted him on the back? Would Mr. Tweak give him that wide, goofy grin and take their photo?
By the end of the speech they're both crying shamelessly. Craig wipes his cheeks before the tears can cool, speaking with a thick wobbly voice.
"That— That was pretty alright."
Walking into South Park feels like walking into a time capsule. Getting off the bus, Craig wonders if everything really is the same.
Everyone has the same small-town mob mentality, the goth kids are still smoking in alleys (proving to be the most dangerous things out there), and there are still red-necks around every corner. Craig stuffs his hands in his pockets and keeps his head down, hoping that no one recognizes him. He doesn't feel like pretending to listen to a stranger he’s never met talk about their boring life.
All he's here to do is visit his parents for Christmas. That's all. He'll be gone in less than a week, and in that time he certainly doesn't want to rendezvous with anyone who only knew him as "the gay kid".
Craig walks along his street, taking the same path he took to get to school in the morning. He's deeply nostalgic for that time now.
His house looks the same on the outside as it always did. Craig takes a deep breath, walking up to the front porch and knocking firmly.
His Mother answers, greeting him with open arms. Craig tenses up, but then allows it. It's strange, he thinks, no one in his family is particularly affectionate. His Mom especially is rather distant with him, always favouring his little sister.
Craig steps in and sets his bag down, taking off his coat and wiping his boots on the welcome mat.
"Come on in, we invited some of your old friends over"
That raises a red flag immediately. She senses this, though, and quickly eases his nerves
"Don't worry, not Tweek. Just Clyde and Tolkien."
Craig sighs with relief and walks into the living room, immediately being smothered by his two friends.
"I saw you last week, Clyde!" Craig protests. Clyde shakes his head "I know, I just missed you man"
It's weird, to be missed. For Craig, he's been too busy with school and work and grief to even think about his childhood home. He hasn't even considered coming back since he left for University— and for good reason. That town put so much pressure on him. All he ever wanted was to be seen as more then an extension of Tweek.
Even now, his friends and family see him and all they see is the lonely kid who got left in that big isolated city with nothing— and by Tweek, who he continues to be defined by.
"Craig, Honey, if you need anything— anything at all, you reach out to us. You always have a home here." Craig's Mom says.
After that, everyone lets up on the attention. While it's appreciated, that wound had been closed for some time before Clyde re-opened it last week.
That stupid speech. Craig thought about it all night, and when he got home he imagined opening their bedroom door and seeing Tweek there, sleepily waiting to finally watch the movie they rented. He'd hugged a pillow to fall asleep that night, imagining it was his Fiancé.
Now, he feels stupid. All that anger he withheld for so long had dissipated in one fell swoop, and without the anger Craig was left only with grief for what could have been.
The logical part of his brain knows that Tweek is right. The emotional part wants to curl up into a little ball and hibernate for the rest of his life, dying alone and cold and as miserable as he lived.
The night presses on, and no one brings up Tweek again. Craig is torn between wanting desperately for someone to mention him, and dreading that very scenario.
"How's school going?" Craig's Dad says. He doesn't talk much, and when he does it's mundane questions like that.
"Good. I just graduated teachers college, so I might start that soon." Craig replies, staring down at his hands in his lap.
"You know," Tolkien starts "Mr. Garrison just died, there's probably a position opening up here, um, if you wanted to stay."
Stay? The thought hasn't crossed Craig's mind. Stay in this town with their pitying eyes? Stay where everyone knows him and he knows everyone? Stay, where he risks the chance of running into the one person in the universe he couldn't bare to see?
"I'll think about it."
He won't. There's no way he'll stay in South Park, not unless—
Craig stops that thought before he regrets it. There's no chance of him and Tweek getting back together, that ship has sailed.
Clyde grins "He's not going to think about it," he remarks, chuckling. Tolkien laughs nervously "Just a suggestion." Craig nods "No, no it's okay. I just— everyone here looks at me like I'm broken." He curls up on the couch, hugging his knees.
"Are you?"
His Mom asks, concerned voice almost making him tear up.
"No. I'm okay."
This is stupid, Craig thinks as he ventures deeper into the forest, branches cracking under his boots. It's so late that the forest is pitch dark. If Craig didn't know this route by heart he'd be fucked.
He climbs over branches, pointing his flashlight around to make sure he's in the right place. Looking ahead, Craig finds what he's looking for.
It's a small clearing with a large tree in the middle, and on that tree is a pair of initials he carved a long time ago.
Craig walks with shaky legs towards it, pointing his flashlight right on the flat part where he remembers carving.
C+T
It's in a heart, and remains unscathed. Frozen in time like the rest of the town. Craig grumbles at his own hopelessness, resting his head on the trunk. If only their relationship had remained as pure and untouched as the tree.
Craig remembers that day. They had just gotten back together after the whole "Michael" staged incident, and Craig had promised that they'd be together for as long as the tree stood. Tweek had waved him off, convinced that Craig would get sick of him before then but secretly hoping he wouldn't.
Turns out, it was him who got sick of Craig.
The snap of a tree branch a little to his left catches his attention. Craig flinches, waving his flashlight towards the noise.
"Who's there?" Craig calls into the darkness, squinting to see better. Hope flickers in his chest.
Is it you—?
Another crack. Craig's flashlight whips towards the sound, catching the eye of a racoon. Craig recoils, and the racoon runs off.
He curses himself for the scenario that plays out in his head, where he stumbles into Tweek here and they reminisce, and Tweek apologizes and they go back to their home in Denver together, leaving this town in the dust.
A stupid dream. Craig takes a deep breath, Tweek has a life here now. Albeit a simple life, but a life all the same.
Craig closes his eyes, leaning against the tree once more. He needs some kind of closure if he's ever going to move on. He needs to know that Tweek doesn't want him anymore, so he can finally be angry again. And then, when he's done being angry, Craig can be free.
In any case, he has to confront Tweek. He has to stop avoiding this before it consumes him.
He casts one last longing look towards their initials carved on that old tree, and walks back home in the darkness.
Tweak Bros. coffeehouse has remained the exact same. Same colourful vinyl seats, same tacky decor, same quiet atmosphere. The regulars are the same, too, quietly sipping their meth-packed coffee.
Craig thought, when Tweek left, that he intended to quit coffee. Now, he's not so sure. It can't be easy to quit in an environment like this, especially with his Father hovering over his shoulder.
He shakes off the thought. It's none of his business, all he wants is closure.
Mrs. Tweak is at the front desk when he walks in. She gasps when she sees him, putting down the mug she's been cleaning and immediately grills him.
"You're here to see Tweek?" She asks right away, eyes narrowing with Motherly protection.
"Yeah— fuck, um, I just need closure," Craig fiddles with his thumbs "I'm not here to win him back if that's what you're worried about." he says sarcastically, nerves kicking in. He's always been a little scared of Tweeks Mom. Not only does she love her son more then life, but she's got this cold energy she uses on people that either she doesn't want to talk to, or aren't paying for a coffee.
Mrs. Tweak scans him up and down "You look well," she remarks "That's good to know. He's in the back, doing—" "Samples?" Craig finishes her sentence with a small smile. Mrs. Tweak laughs and shakes her head "No, actually. He's doing inventory. Quit coffee a couple months ago now."
Craig's heart swells with an emotion he can't place.
Mrs. Tweak unlocks the staff room and lets him in, then goes off to attend to another customer.
The place is as dingy and dark as ever, and it still smells remarkably of coffee. Craig doesn't know how someone can quit when they're surrounded by it every single day— Tweek is so strong. Stronger then Craig ever realized.
"Argh!"
The familiar shout comes from behind a shelf of coffee. Craig smiles fondly at first, then catches himself and sobers his expression.
Craig rounds the shelf, and seeing Tweek completely paralyzes him to speak.
He's grown a little taller, if possible. His hair is pushed back with a black headband and there's an apron tied around his neck where he's hunched over a desk, scribbling something onto a notebook.
Craig recognizes that notebook, it's the one he used for wedding planning. He winces, and considers retreating for a moment, but it's too late.
Tweek seems to have felt his eyes, because he full-body turns to see who's been staring at him. And then he freezes, eyes growing wider by the second.
"Hey dude"
Craig says casually, like they're just bumping into each other in the supermarket— it's so ridiculous, that Tweek lets out a nervous laugh.
"Hey?" He squeaks, putting his book down. Craig's eyes catch it on the way. Craig steps forward and takes the book, staring at the swirly letters on the front that read "Wedding Planner"
"Why'd you hang onto this?" Craig asks, unable to help himself.
Tweek blushes "I— I don't know. It's comforting, I guess, knowing that there was a time when I meant something to someone."
Craig puts it down like it burns him, turning his head and closing his eyes. He's not going to lose control again, not going to show his emotions even when he can feel Tweek staring through him.
"Why did you come here if you weren't going to speak?" Tweek asks. There's a confidence in his tone— a spark that was never there before. Craig's eyes flutter open but he can't bring himself to look at him
"I have nothing to say." Craig says dumbly, clenching his fists to stop his hands from shaking.
It's embarrassing, but his heart is pounding so hard he can hear it. He feels like how he did back when he was just crushing on Tweek— and it's so silly given their history.
"Then why?" Tweek presses. He'd never do that before, never try to get Craig to share his feelings. Back when they were dating, the moment Craig brushed him off he'd bend. That was all fine, but Craig knows now that he needs the extra push sometimes. Tweek seems to know that too.
"It's stupid," Craig deadpans, scratching his neck "I wanted to see you. I thought it would give me closure, somehow."
He hears Tweeks lips stretch into a smile— that soft exhale through his nose is a subtle sign Craig knows by heart.
"Closure?" Tweek questions. Craig looks him in the eye for the first time, swallowing his nerves.
"I can't move on until you tell me you're okay."
He says. Without meaning to, he glances at Tweeks lips. This doesn't go unnoticed.
"I'm okay. Really. Are you—? You look tired."
"Yeah. I think so. Being here is weird."
Tweek smiles sweetly "Let's go sit. I'll get you a coffee"
This raises several red flags in Craigs mind. He tells himself that it's okay— that he has no room in Tweeks new life and he's okay with that, but a little part of him is whispering that's not true, and you know it. It's dangerous.
"That sounds," he pauses, trying to pick a word that doesn't make him sound too eager "Nice." he settles on, smiling sideways.
They leave the staff room together, Tweek hanging up his apron and heading for the kitchen to brew him some coffee.
Craig sits in a booth in the corner that looks out the window. It's a dreary day, snow coming down wet and melting everything under it. The roads have become a mess of slush and dirt, and they're completely devoid of human life.
In a few minutes, Tweek is sitting across from him and setting a coffee down. Craig peers at its light colour, blushing. He remembers how I like it. He feels pathetic that something so small is making him so emotional.
"I wanted to tell you— um, I quit coffee. And I haven't done meth since"
Tweek says, scratching his ear "The withdrawal was hell and working in a coffee shop doesn't make it easy, but I did it."
Craig smiles softly "Good. I'm really happy for you." He says, words coming out more bitter then he intended. Tweek blinks and starts biting his nails. His hands are covered in hang nails, some scabbed over with blood.
Craig puts his coffee down, and on instinct he takes Tweeks hands in his and examines the damage.
Tweek laughs nervously, slipping out of Craig's loose grip.
Weird moment, Craig thinks, cringing.
"Old habits die hard I guess," Tweek says, giving him an out. Craig has never been so embarrassed. His ears turn bright red and he hides his face in his hands.
Tweek immediately back tracks, "No, nono" he says "Don't be embarrassed, please"
Craig hides, curling up. He's never cried from embarrassment before, what's gotten into him? Craig is meant to be stoic and emotionless, he's supposed to help Tweek think rationally and calm him down. He used to be needed goddamnit! Now he just feels so aimless, and Tweek is excelling without him!
"Craig, I'm so sorry. I left you, and I'm glad I did, but I don't want you to be hurt."
"I held you back! All I wanted was to be needed, but I was in your way. I'm the one who's sorry."
Tweek switches to his side of the booth, taking his hands away and wiping his tears.
"It's true, you were holding me back and I don't need you," He says in that tone he uses when he's sure of himself "But— that— that doesn't mean I don't still want you."
That makes Craig stop. He sniffles, wiping his cheeks. Luckily, they haven't caused much of a scene. If people are listening, which Craig is sure they are, they aren't acting like it. That offers little comfort. He hates being emotional like this, but this is what he’s become since Tweek left him.
He lets himself feel these things now— let's himself experience the full range of emotion. He feels more human then ever because of it. Now that he's felt everything there is, he's feeling his love for Tweek so much more strongly.
Before, it was a gentle thrum in the back of his mind. It was something he was as sure of as the moon orbiting the earth, as the earth orbiting the sun. It was certainly there, but it was never this beautiful.
Looking at Tweek Tweak now, it's like looking at a whole new person. Maybe not new, but more whole. Craig likes it. He likes who he's become, too. They're not extensions of each other any longer— they've grown apart and found each other in the end.
Craig sniffles again, smiling with his eyes closed "This is soooo embarrassing," he complains, earning the sweet sound of Tweeks laughter.
"You still want me?"
Craig asks, voice crackling. He knows the answer before it leaves Tweeks mouth, because they've always understood each other like that.
"Of course. I never stopped loving you, I just needed to be more then a duo," Tweek smiles, flashing his yellowed teeth.
It's like a flood of relief when he says it. Craig could have never dated again— he'd probably have died alone and bitter, same as he would have lived. He'd have struggled all his life wondering if Tweek was happier with someone else.
"Thank God," he breaths a sigh of relief, resting his head on Tweeks shoulder "I missed you so goddamn much."
Tweek wraps an arm around his waist "You still in that apartment?" He asks. Craig nods "Yeah. You don't have to move back there though, I mean, I'd like to move here." Tweek nods along, and Craig realizes that he's all but stopped twitching. He used to only be still when he was tired, but now he's much more serene.
"Tweek, honey?"
Mrs. Tweak calls from the counter. Tweek turns around, giving her a thumbs up that she easily returns "Why don't you take the rest of the night off? I can cover for you, with this weather it's been pretty slow."
Tweek nods "Thanks, Mom".
They walk back to Tweeks house, hand in hand like they used to as kids, catching up on everything they've been doing. Craig meets this new version of the Tweek he fell in love with, and he falls in love all over again.
This new Tweek is anxious— that much may never go away— but he's not as twitchy and he's more secure and he's happy. As long as Craig has known him, Tweek has always been happiest sipping from a coffee cup or finding some other way to distract himself like knitting and legos and stacking random objects. Now, he's just happy. Content. He sees the world in a different light, and it's beautiful.
Craig used to know how Tweek thought and acted by heart. He could predict breakdowns and stop them before they even happen. Now, there's no breakdowns to prevent. It's refreshing.
"I, uh, I went to that tree last night, where I carved our initials."
Craig says, scratching his neck bashfully. Tweek inhaled through his teeth
"I know. I was there, too"
He says, and Craig just about chokes.
"What—?" he sputters. Tweek laughs to release some of his nervous energy "I was hoping you might go there, and, well, when I saw that I was right I got scared and ran away."
Craig bites his lip "I was hoping you'd go there, too." He says, voice hardly a whisper.
They're quiet for a while after that, until Tweek stops in his tracks, turning to the house on their right.
"This is my house," he says, gesturing to it awkwardly. He moves to go up the steps to the front porch, but stops himself. It feels wrong to leave things like this, but Craig isn't sure where the boundary is.
Tweek takes the leap.
"Come in for dinner?" He asks, tilting his head in question like he's just testing the waters.
Craig nods "Sure. I'd love to."
“I’ll cook.”
It will be a slow process, learning to trust and love each other again, but they will be stronger for it.
And, who knows, maybe in a couple years when they're middle-aged and stable, they'll get married.
Craig hopes so, because if he could spend the rest of his life listening to Tweeks work stories over dinner and holding each other at night, he could die happy.
Notes:
thanks for reading!!
twitter: @ plunko_
krissophiaaa on Chapter 1 Tue 07 Mar 2023 11:51AM UTC
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plunko on Chapter 1 Tue 07 Mar 2023 01:45PM UTC
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Just_reading_fanfics on Chapter 2 Sat 11 Mar 2023 03:51AM UTC
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Just_reading_fanfics on Chapter 2 Sat 11 Mar 2023 04:02PM UTC
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po__14 on Chapter 2 Sat 11 Mar 2023 01:18PM UTC
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krissophiaaa on Chapter 2 Sun 12 Mar 2023 11:33AM UTC
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plunko on Chapter 2 Sun 12 Mar 2023 02:18PM UTC
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