Chapter Text
The sting of the knife caused Craig Tucker to hiss between his teeth, but he continued to drag the steel across his flesh. A thin line of red quickly beaded behind the blade, pooling in his palm. With gritted teeth, Craig clenched his fist, letting the blood splatter into the Tupperware he’d set on the carpet below.
The candles around him flickered as if a non-existent breeze had disturbed them, and Craig stood expectantly, waiting for something—anything—to happen. When nothing did, he sighed. What had he expected, really? What a waste of time. Now he’d lose his bet, and his palm would hurt like a bitch for the next week or so. Fucking typical.
He sighed again and turned, finding an old sock to press into his bleeding hand. His mom would have a heart attack if she knew, but Craig figured he’d already used a kitchen knife to slice himself open; what was a cheesy sock to staunch the flow anyway?
“Why did you summon me?” The voice was deep and ominous, rolling off the shadows of his dark room. Craig turned, squinting to see a looming silhouette in the corner by his closed curtains. Like the demon didn’t have a form, all Craig could see was a vaguely humanoid shadow.
Huh. It really had worked then.
Better late than never.
“Some goth kid told me if I sell my soul to a demon, I can get anything I want in return,” Craig said nonchalantly. What was the point in being afraid when he’d been the one to summon the demon, after all?
“Yes, that is correct. And what is it you want, human child?” the looming figure asked in its silky voice. Craig crinkled his nose at the ‘human child’ but didn’t let it perturb him. “Riches? Vengeance? Power?” the demon listed, sounding almost bored. Craig could relate.
“A date to prom,” Craig replied, annoyed. Ugh. This was all Clyde’s damn fault. Craig had been quite content with skipping prom and having an Ash vs Evil Dead bingeathon, but his so-called best friend had brought Stripe into it. If Craig could get a date and actually show up to prom for at least an hour, Clyde had promised to buy a tilting cannon for the guinea pig. Craig could have just purchased the cannon himself, but it was the principle of things.
“…Wait, really? Gah! What the fuck, man?!” The demon’s deep voice dropped, becoming shrill and almost panicked. From the shadows, a figure emerged, not at all what Craig had expected. He’d figured a demon would either be a monster or a tall, dark, handsome humanoid with an air of trouble—y’know, super hot, basically. The imp he was faced with couldn’t have been further from his mental image. Maybe an inch or two shorter than Craig, he had wild blond hair and huge, swampy green eyes that shined manically. From his forehead, two small red horns protruded, matching in colour the dragon-like wings that curled from his shoulder blades. He stood on goat legs with a forked tail coiling near his hooves. Craig couldn’t bring himself to find any of it frightening, though, not when he also had a cute nose and was wearing a poorly buttoned-up green shirt stained with what looked to be coffee.
Adorable—that was definitely the word for the demon Craig had summoned.
“Look, man, you’re young, so I’m willing to waive the summon fee. You can’t really want to sell your soul for a date… right?!”
A demon with a moral compass? Fuck, Craig was smitten.
“Why not?” he asked.
“Nngh,” the demon gave a violent full-body shiver, “Why not?!” he screeched, tugging at his wild hair. His nails were painted a sparkly red, Craig noticed, with a flutter in his stomach. The polish was also horribly chipped. Endearing. “Jesus Christ, man! Do you even know what you’re asking? You would belong to me. Forever!”
Craig didn’t think that sounded bad. “That doesn’t sound so bad,” he said.
The demon screeched, left eye twitching. “Jesus Christ!”
“Doesn’t that hurt?” Craig asked, intrigued.
The demon stopped tugging on his hair to blink at Craig. “What?”
“Saying Jesus Christ?”
“Oh. Um. It burns my tongue a little, is all, man.”
“Then you shouldn’t do it.” Christ, was he becoming a mother hen to this adorable demon he’d only just met or what? Craig couldn’t bring himself to care.
The demon blinked at him again. “Are all humans this weird?” he asked finally.
“I dunno,” Craig answered. “Will you be my date to prom then?”
The demon chewed his bottom lip, leaving it shiny and plump when it released from his straight, white teeth. Maybe it was just because he was a horny teenager, but Craig wanted to lick it. Maybe suck on it, too. “You really want to sell your soul just for a date?”
“It would make me so happy,” Craig agreed.
The demon scrutinized him, looking Craig up and down. Craig swore he saw his pale cheeks flush slightly in the flickering candlelight. “Why do you care so much about prom anyway?”
“I don’t,” Craig said. “But I made a bet.”
“Are you going to lose a lot of money if you don’t win?”
“I won’t lose anything.” Maybe his sanity when Clyde refused to stop gloating…
“Gah!! Then why? What the fuck’s wrong with you, dude?”
“My best friend said he’d buy my guinea pig a cannon if I turn up to prom for an hour with a date,” Craig said, as if that was a perfectly good reason to sell his soul to a demon.
The demon’s eyes seemed to grow even wider, shining brilliantly. “You have a guinea pig?” Craig liked that the demon was apparently as easily distracted by the thought of cute animals as he was. He nodded eagerly.
“Her name’s Stripe #6. Want to meet her?”
“Can I?” The demon was even cuter now, all wide-eyed and awed, his tail swaying slightly just above the carpet.
“Yes,” Craig said, jutting his chin towards his closed bedroom door in a ‘follow me’ gesture. As they walked, he asked, “Hey, what’s your name, anyway?” Craig couldn’t very well just keep thinking of him as ‘the demon’.
“Tweek,” Tweek said, following Craig down the stairs and towards the basement. “What’s yours?”
“Craig.”
“Craig,” Tweek repeated, tasting the name on his lips. Craig liked how it sounded, but what he liked even more was the blinding smile that followed, like sunshine peeking out through the clouds. Was it possible he’d summoned an angel instead of a demon? If it weren’t for the horns, Craig would have been convinced.
In the basement, Craig headed straight for Stripe’s hutch. He could hear her scuffling about inside her den, and with a slight grin directed at Tweek, he reached for the latch. He winced as he went to open the cage, his sock-bandaged hand protesting the movement. Tweek’s eyes softened, and he reached out hesitantly, stopping just before he made contact. “Can I see?”
“Sure.” Craig pulled away the sock—he didn’t want Tweek to touch the worn, blood-stained item—and held his palm up for Tweek to see. The blood had crusted along the angry line, but beads of fresh crimson were forming, threatening to make a mess. It hurt like a bitch.
Gently, Tweek ran his pointer and middle finger across the wound, soothing the sting with his soft touch. When he pulled away, Craig was amazed to find the skin knotted back together as if the cut had never happened. Even the blood had vanished like it had never been there. If it wasn’t for the sock still clutched in his other hand, Craig might have wondered if he’d gone crazy.
Wow.
“Thank you,” he said, his voice breathy as if he’d been running. His heart pounding in his chest suggested that, too. Why was it no human boy Craig had ever laid eyes on had done a thing for him, yet the first demon he meets, he trips head over heels within seconds?
Tweek flashed another blinding smile. “You’re welcome, Craig.”
For a moment, they just stared at each other, Craig sure his cheeks were growing increasingly red with each passing second. Finally, Tweek caught his bottom lip, giving it a chew as he nervously nodded towards the cage, reminding Craig of what they’d been up to.
“Right,” Craig said, more flustered than he’d ever been in his life. He reached out again, then remembered the sock and, not so discreetly, tossed it across the room in the general direction of the laundry basket. Tweek’s laugh was soft and musical, and Craig fumbled with the latch, forgetting how to open it in his rattled state. When he eventually figured it out, Craig instantly calmed upon seeing the curious nose that twitched up at him, half buried in hay.
“Hello, sweetie,” he said gently, reaching out a single finger for her to sniff. Craig had loved all his guinea pigs over the years, but he had a special spot in his heart for Stripe #6, his first girl. “Would you like a strawberry?” he asked her, giving the white spot above her nose a soft rub.
“Here,” Tweek said quietly, offering Craig a juicy, red strawberry before Craig could reach for one from the bowl on the table to his left.
Craig looked at the strawberry and then a Tweek, shaking his head with a smile. “You feed her,” he said. “It’s the way to her heart.”
“And what’s the way to yours?” Tweek asked, then froze mid-step as his words sunk in, a look of horror dawning on him. “Gah!!” he squeaked, turning almost as red as his horns.
Although Craig was equally flustered, he kept his cool, offering a cheeky, “Food works pretty well for me, too.”
With his head ducked, Tweek smiled faintly, and approached the cage, hesitantly offering the strawberry. Stripe’s nose twitched, and she unearthed herself from the hay to nibble at the offering.
“She’s adorable,” Tweek said.
It took all of Craig’s restraint not to say, ‘So are you’. Instead, he nodded. “That she is.”
They stood silently for a few minutes, watching the guinea pig as she messily munched on her fruit. Eventually, Tweek returned his attention to Craig.
“Have you really thought about this deal, man? I’m a demon, so it’s not really my place to reject you, but selling your soul for a date seems… nngh… fucking stupid, honestly.”
“I’m selling my soul for her,” Craig said simply, glancing at Stripe, who, curious about her company, had clambered on top of her cage to stare at them. “The date is just an added bonus.” Fuck, was he being smooth? That didn’t seem possible. He wasn’t going to knock it, though.
Tweek dropped his gaze again. “I could just summon a cannon, you know.” To prove his point, Tweek held out his hand, and a moment later, the exact toy Craig had his eye on was resting in Tweek’s palm, flame-painted sides and all. Oh man, it really was as cool as the pictures. Stripe would love it.
Craig shook his head, though. “It’s the principle of things,” he said. “Besides, Clyde would never let me live it down if I skipped prom.”
“I’m not much of a dancer,” Tweek tried.
“Me either. I wouldn’t mind dancing with you, though.”
Tweek opened and closed his mouth, at a loss for words. Eventually, he managed a squeaked, “Why?”
“You’re cute,” Craig said shamelessly. “Really cute.”
“I’m a demon! Not even a high-class one, man. Just a lowly imp.”
“Maybe lowly imps are my type,” Craig said, and he wasn’t lying. God knew what his type was—he knew he didn’t like girls, but he’d never been attracted to a boy before, either. Not until this demon had stumbled out of the shadows in his bedroom.
“And what if human boys aren’t my type, huh?” Tweek shot back, too quickly. It still stung, even if Craig knew it was a defence retort, and his face fell enough that Tweek was quickly taking back his words. “I, uh, Ithinkyou’recutetoo, man!”
That returned Craig’s smile. “You do?”
“Yeah. I also kinda like that you summoned me for such a stupid reason.” He flashed his teeth in a grin. “I can’t accept your soul, though, dude.”
“Oh.” Craig let his gaze slip past Tweek to the exploring guinea pig behind him. He hadn’t expected a demon to have a sense of morality. How was he going to get a date now? Maybe he should just accept the cannon Tweek offered and cut his losses. How unbearable could Clyde be, really?
Craig wasn’t sure he was looking forward to finding out.
“This time, the date is on me,” Tweek said, and Craig’s eyes whipped back to the demon so quickly he almost gave himself whiplash.
“Wait, really?”
“I’ve never been asked on a date before,” Tweek said with a shrug. “It might be fun.” With a click of his fingers, the cannon vanished, and Tweek’s appearance shifted to that of a human. He smiled another radiant smile. “Think I’ll pass?”
“I honestly wouldn’t care if you came with the horns and tail,” Craig admitted. “There will be less questions this way, though.”
“Less questions means more time for dancing, right?”
“I thought you weren’t much of a dancer?”
Tweek’s smile grew. “I’m not,” he said, extending a hand in Craig’s direction. His chipped nail polish twinkled. “Think we should practise?”
Craig, who couldn’t think of anything he’d like more than to hold this cute boy in his arms and sway, accepted it.