Chapter Text
Craig took a deep breath as he boarded the school bus. He sighed; the bus was still empty, but with the stops, it was slowly filling up. He stared down the empty aisle as Alex G's "16 Mirrors" played in his headphones. High school had already started a month ago. South Park didn't have its own high school. The town was small, and after elementary school, students had to commute to the neighboring town. North Park was right next door, and that was where the school serving the area was located.
Craig still hadn't fully gotten used to the idea of crossing the border every day, nor to the fact that the environment was completely different from what he knew in South Park. The truth was, Tucker hadn't freaked out because all his friends, including his classmates, were at the same school. They all rode the bus together, except Clyde and Token, who rode in their own cars. While he hated that routine, he observed the dynamics of his friends at school. Jimmy loved it; he was a constant presence in the group, but he was still in several others at the same time. Clyde and Token were best friends, so they always disappeared to see something new at school. Tweek had joined the drama club. And Craig... Well, Craig was always with Tweek, and when he wasn't, he was coaching the high school football team.
Besides, with the school change, the farce about his and Tweek's relationship didn't need to be expanded. In fact, the more this "fact" died down, the better it would be for both of them. At least, that's what Craig tried to convince himself, even though he hated the thought.
Even so, he remained the boyfriend, or rather, the protective best friend. And Tweek was no slouch; he cared for Craig just as intensely. It was a dynamic they both already had naturally, and so it was difficult to separate where the lie began and the truth ended.
Deep down, even if they wanted to "get rid" of it, there was always some detail that kept the story alive. Either a classmate who had previously studied with them would spread the word about the couple, or the North Park students themselves would notice the way they acted around each other. And at that point, there was no denying it: Craig and Tweek were too good to go unnoticed.
Craig and Tweek's relationship was a long-standing secret, but one filled with strategies only they understood. The "dating farce" began when they were just ten years old, and since then, no one has been able to separate the story from reality in plain sight. Friends, colleagues, even their parents blindly believed they were a real couple. To the world, it was natural, but to them, it was just a good lie—initially.
They cared for each other in a friendly, almost instinctive way. Craig always knew when Tweek was about to lose control and freak out, and Tweek had a habit of checking to see if he was cold before they left the house. Small gestures, almost imperceptible, but filled with affection. As if every touch, every look, was a reminder that they were there for each other, even when the world didn't understand.
Craig fell asleep, his thoughts still lingering on Tweek. The bus stopped suddenly, and he didn't open his eyes, just lay silent for a few seconds. A voice brought him back.
— CRAIG.
Lazily, Craig opened his eyes and saw Tweek standing in front of him, holding the hot cup of coffee. His hair was messy, and the way his wide-legged pants hugged his waist made Craig's chest tighten. The white button-down blouse was buttoned incorrectly; Craig knew the buttons were the charm. And the open moss green coat completed the look. The bag hanging at the side swayed slightly with every movement, and the rings on his fingers glinted discreetly. Craig quickly looked away, but he couldn't hide the heat that rose within him.
— Craig, I want a window seat — The golden-haired boy said as he took a sip of his coffee.
Craig made room for his boyfriend to pass. Still, Tweek leaned heavily against Craig in the process. He sat in the window seat and placed his bag on his lap. Without looking at his boyfriend, Tweek handed his coffee cup to Craig, who automatically took it. Craig didn't like coffee, but the dynamic of their relationship was to serve each other, and usually the chivalrous role fell to Craig.
"How was your night, Honey?" It seemed to be the first word Craig had spoken that day. It sounded slurred and hoarse.
Tweek opened his bag to get his phone and nearly dropped it when he heard his boyfriend's voice. He turned, facing Craig.
Craig was... well, Craig. Always handsome, but in an effortless way. He wore his signature pimp suit, with a few buttons Tweek had added himself: one with stars, the other with NASA. Baggy jeans with a few rips, a gray blouse, and that heavy blue coat, also covered in buttons, all chosen by Tweek. Blue gloves with holes in the fingers completed the look. And, man, Craig had had braces for about two years, and that flashy smile only made matters worse.
He knew Craig attracted attention at school, especially from the girls at North Park, who sometimes had no idea he and Tweek were together, or simply pretended not to because Tweek never reacted properly. Still, Craig didn't seem to mind at all.
"Ah! IT… IT SUCKED, CRAIG!" he replied quickly, but not as loudly as usual. He was still embarrassed from spending so much time staring at Craig. "I couldn't sleep, I was thinking about everything, about school, about tests, and… and I WAS AFRAID I'D FORGET MY FIRST HISTORY ASSIGNMENT!"
Craig turned his face slowly, paying attention to him.
"Seriously, Honey?" he said simply, unhurriedly. He saw Tweek's gaze drop to the coffee cup in his hand, then, with a simple gesture, he handed it back to the blond. "And how do you want to handle this?"
"I-I don't know! I don't know, Craig! I'm already behind on the material, I can't keep up..." Tweek sipped his coffee nervously. "Everyone seems to catch on faster than me."
Craig noticed some coffee on his cheek. He wiped it away with his finger and licked it, making a sour face. He hated coffee.
"How are we going to solve this?" he asked, looking at his boyfriend with that direct look he always had.
Tweek took a deep breath; the gesture completely stopped him. A little shaky, but the question made him think.
— Maybe… maybe I need help. Like, REAL help. Maybe you can help me study?
Craig nodded, smiling simply, as if it were obvious.
— Sure, honey. We can study, yes.
The blond stared at him for a moment, as if waiting for a more complex answer.
- Just that?!
Craig shrugged.
— Hey. No need to complicate things. We just sit down, study as many times as necessary... and that's it.
Tweek blinked rapidly, his breathing still rapid, but he seemed calmer. Craig's simple question, "What do we do now?", made the weight on his shoulders lift, even if only for a few seconds.
From the age of 10, Tweek began therapy and saw a psychologist, which helped the blond maintain his composure. He also gradually learned to manage his caffeine addiction when he was referred to a nutritionist. It was a difficult process. But now he was drinking less than half of what he used to. Tweek became calmer, but with the transition to high school, a change of school and routine, he began experiencing frequent bouts of depression again.
Kyle Boflovski looked back, resting his elbows on the back of the seat in front of him, smiling at Tweek.
"Hey, guys! Are you going to the basketball game this weekend?" he asked, looking first at the blond and then winking at Craig.
Tweek fiddled with his coffee cup, a little nervous, but much calmer now.
"Oh... We were thinking about going, yes. I'm not sure yet, but... I think so." Tweek looked at Craig. In fact, they hadn't even considered it. Craig smiled simply and nodded.
Stan, sitting next to Kyle, watched the scene with his usual calm gaze. He didn't need to say anything; it was just presence. Craig, on the other hand, noticed the uncanny similarity between them: each couple had their own rhythm, but the way they observed each other, protected each other, and simply were together was almost the same.
Kyle and Butters had grown close to Tweek a few years ago. They'd talked a few times, and in a way, their friendship had helped dissolve some of the old rivalry between the groups. Tweek was experiencing less anxiety these days—a result of therapy sessions and all the support he'd been receiving from Craig—and Kyle's presence seemed neutral enough not to add to his tension.
Kyle chuckled softly, shaking his head.
— Okay then. I hope you guys show up. It'll be good to have support there; those Denver guys are monsters. And… well, it'll be cool to see you guys too.
Tweek gave a shy smile, shrugging.
— Ok… we’ll try.
Craig simply nodded, focused on the blond beside him, but not engaging directly in the conversation. He knew Kyle meant well, and Tweek's calmness made everything easier.
"Perfect," Kyle said, turning to face Stan with a smile, making Marsh smile back. "Then it's settled."
The bus continued on its way, and that simple conversation made the atmosphere seem less heavy.
Almost twenty minutes later, the school bus pulled up. The journey between South Park and North Park only took about thirty minutes, as the towns were small.
Craig looked out the window, observing the familiar bustle in front of the school. Students were scattered across the courtyard, some chatting, others rushing to make it to their first classes. Tweek adjusted his coat and gripped his coffee cup more firmly, taking a deep breath. He still hadn't gotten used to the change.
Kyle and Stan got off ahead of them, waving to Tweek with easy smiles, and Craig just watched, waiting for the blond to get ready to leave. It was just another morning, the same old routine. Craig and Tweek got off the bus side by side, stopping at the curb to wait for Jimmy. The boy was chuckling to himself, as usual, balancing on his crutches as he descended the last step.
“H-hey, y-you guys!” he said, smiling broadly. “Me and you guys on the b-bus.”
Tweek gave a nervous but genuine chuckle.
— Jim! I saw you pass, but you didn't look.
Craig just raised an eyebrow, but deep down, he hadn't seen his friend either. Tucker looked around at the hustle and bustle of activity at the entrance and took a deep breath.
— What a shitty week.
“Yeah, b-but think on the b-bright side,” Jimmy continued, adjusting his crutches and looking at the two of them. “At least there’s the g-game on Saturday!”
Tweek nodded, remembering their conversation on the bus.
— Yeah… Kyle already mentioned it. I think we’re going to…
Craig simply made an affirmative sound in his throat, confirming without further ado. After that brief daily chat, the three of them crossed the courtyard together, mingling with the stream of students entering through the school gates. The building wasn't much different from the old one; it followed the same pattern, but the crowds always seemed larger than they were used to. Just behind them, a loud voice caught their attention:
"Guys!" Clyde came running up, his backpack barely slung over one shoulder and his red coat in his hands. "You guys took your time, man! I was already thinking that damn thing was broken!"
"As if this bus never broke down, right?" Jimmy replied, chuckling to himself. "Oh, Y-you see? I didn't stutter."
Tweek and Clyde clapped briefly. Jimmy, after several years of living with a stutter, was placed with a speech therapist in North Park on a few days a week, and showed improvement.
Craig just looked away, his expression unchanged.
— We arrived on time, Clyde.
Clyde ignored Tucker's coldness. He smiled at the dark-haired man and, as always, stepped between them with that flamboyant grin.
A few seconds later, Token approached, walking calmly, his clothes neatly arranged and headphones hanging around his neck.
"You guys make a scene early, man," he said, looking directly at Clyde. "Look, it's the first week of the month and you're already three weeks late, man."
"Relax, Token!" Clyde raised his hands in defense. "My dad was late for work."
Tweek stifled a laugh, clutching his coffee cup to his chest. Clyde slung his backpack over his shoulder, and Token laughed.
— THREE times, bro?! You're always late. Even the bus is faster than your dad's hand-me-down car.
Clyde raised his eyebrows in offense when Craig laughed.
"Shut up, Token." Clyde smiled and turned to Craig. "At least I don't have to wait for the bus like a little bitch."
"Oh, fuck you, Donovan!" Token retorted, laughing. "Even my grandmother walks faster than that thing!"
"And she'd still get there first," Craig commented with a simple smile. They walked until they stopped at the lockers.
Craig opened his to put away his backpack. Tweek chimed in, raising his voice slightly as he opened his locker to put away his backpack and grab his textbook.
— Guys! You're just going to bring more bad luck to this car, and then it's going to break down for good!
Clyde turned to him and rolled his eyes, mocking.
— Relax, Tweek. No one is talking to you.
Token laughed, taking advantage of the situation.
"See, Clyde? Even Tweek knows your dad's car is shit."
Clyde snorted and shoved his shoulder.
—Fuck you, man! Just because you're rich doesn't mean you're better than me.
Craig closed the locker with his books in hand.
— No, he's not better than you. Just faster. Even by car.
The group burst into laughter. Even Tweek nearly spat out his coffee, laughing nervously. Clyde glared at the brunette, indignant.
— Fuck you too, Craig! You should be on MY side, not Token's!
"I'll side with whoever has the least amount of idiots at the moment," Craig replied with a shrug.
Craig watched his boyfriend approach the trash can and discard his now-empty coffee cup. When Tweek turned back to the group, his eyes met Craig's, and a quick smile escaped his lips, half shy, half automatic, but enough to make Craig's chest flutter. Without exchanging a word, they leaned in close and intertwined hands, as if repeating a gesture as natural as breathing. Together, they walked alongside their friends, while the discussion continued to revolve around the jokes against Clyde.
[...]
Craig Tucker remembered exactly when it had started, but he wished he could forget.
A few days later, during break, he and Tweek were sitting at the table with the group. Clyde, as always, was the loudest, stuffing his mouth with food while cracking lame jokes. Token, on the other side, sighed and rolled his eyes at each failed attempt at humor, but he still listened. Jimmy wasn't at the table, and if he had been, the conversation would have been genuinely funny.
Craig and Tweek ate in silence. It had always been like this: they didn't need to say much, just followed the conversation, almost like spectators. Until, suddenly, Kenny appeared and plopped down on the bench next to them.
Craig didn't mind—in fact, he'd always found Kenny to be good company. Unlike Cartman, he knew how to listen and was genuinely nice, in Tucker's eyes. And he even seemed amused by Clyde's antics, never losing the thread of the conversation.
Until the table's attention was drawn to the cafeteria hallway. Butters, the blond boy known for his innocent and polite demeanor, entered the room accompanied by a boy no one at the table seemed to recognize. He was taller than Butters, had fair skin, and brown hair full of curls that fell over his forehead, giving him a messy but striking appearance. Kenny, who had been snickering at Clyde's nonsense until then, immediately lost interest. His eyes followed Butters as if all the noise in the cafeteria had faded. Craig noticed this; he always did. He knew how McCormick acted around the blond.
“Hey, Butters,” Kenny called, raising his hand in a wave and an automatic smile.
"Hi, Kenny!" Butters replied cheerfully, approaching the table with a big smile. The boy next to him hesitated for a moment, but followed behind him. "Hey, guys."
"Hey, Butters?" Clyde greeted, but couldn't contain himself at the news. Unlike the others, who hid their gazes from the stranger, Clyde's eyes widened with curiosity and he blurted out the question without hesitation. "And who is he?"
Token sighed at his best friend's question. He was obviously curious too, but he managed to feign casualness. Craig, on the other hand, didn't really care. He kept his arms crossed on the table, observing everything silently. Butters adjusted his backpack on his shoulder and pointed to his classmate, who was right behind him.
"Oh! This is Michael, he's from North Park," Butters introduced the boy cheerfully. "We have Physics together... and Art too."
Michael raised his hand in a lazy wave, but then broke into a calculated smile. He was overly confident in his own demeanor, almost cocky. Craig looked at him with the same gentleness as before.
"Michael Álvarez," he introduced himself in a relaxed but firm tone. "Nice to meet you."
"Álvarez?" Clyde arched an eyebrow, ready to joke. "So you're Mexican?"
Michael chuckled softly, as if the question were too common, and corrected himself without losing his smile:
— Actually, Spanish. But it was worth a try, man.
His tone wasn't offended—on the contrary, he seemed to enjoy the teasing. His posture was light, unconcerned, but his gaze never lingered for long. Craig ate calmly and returned to looking at everyone at the table, but he soon noticed a detail no one else seemed to notice. This Michael guy wasn't looking at Clyde or Kenny. No… he was staring at Tweek.
Craig discreetly shifted his gaze to his boyfriend, who remained focused on his own plate and, now, on his own phone. Tweek didn't seem to notice the gaze on him, but Craig did. The way the stranger was watching Tweek was impossible to ignore. He noticed it immediately. While Michael laughed and joked with Clyde, his eyes drifted away, always returning to the blond man sitting next to him.
Tweek finally put down his phone and turned to the boys. He looked up and, at first, felt a slight discomfort at the unfamiliar gaze on him, meeting the boy for the first time. There was no shame there.
Craig kept his uncomfortable questions locked in his mouth, but inside, he felt the discomfort grow even more.
Michael, noticing the attention he had drawn, turned fully to the blond and smiled a shamelessly infectious smile.
"Hey, Tweek, right?" he said, his tone light. "I remember you."
Tweek blinked a few times, trying to gather his thoughts. Little by little, he began to recognize the boy: the curly hair, the confident way he walked and spoke… that poise of someone who already stood out in any group.
"Oh... yeah," Tweek replied, still a little nervous, but now more curious than scared. "Wait... you're in the drama club, right?"
"That's right, man." Michael smirked, making Tweek smile nervously too. "I thought you were so talented in rehearsals yesterday."
— ACK! SERIOUSLY? I'm glad… — Tweak smiled awkwardly. — Sorry… but I don't remember much about your…
— All right, man, no problem.
Clyde's eyes widened, slamming his hand on the table.
— WHAT?! Tweek at the theater? How come no one ever told me this?!
"Your problem is that you're not paying attention to the conversation, Clyde." Token rolled his eyes, but laughed when he saw his friend's gaze on him.
Butters, excited, commented quickly.
— He's really good, guys! I've seen him in rehearsals, he can memorize the lines really quickly!
Kenny glared at Butters and then Tweek.
"Really? I didn't know that. Tweek, you never mentioned it."
The blond blushed, fiddling with the buttons on his messy shirt.
— It's just... I don't like talking about it that much.
Craig, beside him, remained silent, but he followed every word, his thumb gliding absently over the back of Tweek's hand, a subtle gesture, but enough to remind him he was there.
Clyde leaned in, curious.
— Okay, but explain to me: are you already going to act? Like... main role, secondary role... or are you just extra number three who dies in five seconds?
Tweek took a deep breath, trying not to be rude to his friend, even though he was nervous.
— I'm... rehearsing some scenes as the lead, actually. We're going to do a weekly audition—
The young man was cut off by Donovan's voice, which startled the entire table.
— PROTAGONIST?! — Clyde almost dropped his tray of food. — Are you kidding me!
Michael laughed loudly, clearly pleased that he had thrown Tweek's name into the center of the circle.
— Yeah, guys. I'm sure he'll get that role.
Craig stared at his boyfriend with a mixture of surprise and disbelief. He knew Tweek was in theater, but he had no idea he was trying out for a lead role. Usually, the blond played the piano or acted as an extra. The fork slipped from Craig's hand, clattering lightly against the tray.
"Wait a minute... protagonist?" he blurted, his face instantly falling. "Why didn't you tell me this, man?"
Tweek nervously fiddled with his now-cold coffee cup, shrugging. The entire group watched in silence, which only increased the blond's embarrassment.
"I… I was going to tell you!" he stammered, his voice rising. "But you had that game last week and I didn't want to interrupt! I just forgot, okay?!"
Craig rubbed his forehead, drawing in a slow breath. He wasn't mad at the theater, or at Tweek. He was tired, stressed, and on edge. But with Tweek, it was different—he always tried to take a deep breath before exploding.
"Seriously, Tweek? You thought this would bother me?" he asked, more quietly, but his irritation was evident. "I wish you had told me."
Tweek slammed his hand lightly on the table, his coffee nearly spilling over.
"BUT CRAIG?! You spent the whole week talking about the game and saying that nothing could stress you out or get in your way!" His voice grew louder, drawing even more attention.
"I wasn't going to mess with this, Tweek! I just had to come in and tell you," Craig replied firmly, controlling his voice.
“AND YOU TELL ME THAT NOW?!” Tweek replied, trembling, but his eyes shining with frustration.
"Now that I know." Craig snapped his mouth shut, feeling frustration seep through a crack in his patience. His tone started calmly and escalated into a near-explosion, but he took a deep breath before it escalated.
The silence at the table grew heavy. Token looked at Craig in confusion. Butters peered over Kenny's shoulder, who, in turn, stared at the scene in surprise—he'd never seen South Park's most iconic couple argue like that.
Clyde, as always, decided to break the ice.
— Problems in paradise.
Token didn't hesitate and slapped him on the back of the head. Clyde grunted but didn't insist. Craig, however, kept his eyes fixed on the tray, his appetite fading. Michael, standing next to Butters, noticed the mood and leaned in with a mischievous smile.
"Easy, man," he said quietly, but audibly enough for Craig to hear. "Tweek, tell him about the meeting on Thursday. He can come check it out."
Tweek paused, blinking a few times, and remembered. The tension in his face softened.
"ACK! YES!" He looked at Craig, calmer. "We'll meet on Thursday, we'll see who gets the lead role."
Michael smiled cheekily as he saw Tweek relax. Craig, however, looked worse than before. His eyes flicked to Michael, his jaw set. He swallowed hard, more out of anger than self-control. It was he, Craig Tucker, who always tried to calm Tweek down. No, Michael. No, no one.
All his friends—even the girls—knew Craig was the only one with the patience to put up with Tweek. So when Tweek freaked out, everyone would rush to him with phrases like, "Dude, you need to calm Tweek down," "Tucker, your boyfriend is scaring everyone," or the Cartman classic: "Craig, I think you need to suck Tweek's dick, he's so nervous."
— If you want to go…
"I will, Tweek," he replied firmly, but trying to hold back the anger in the back of his throat.
The blond expected the touch on his arm, the hand on his knee, any gesture from Craig trying to calm him—as always. But instead, the brunette picked up his phone and stared at the screen, trying to ignore the table and control his anger. Tweek swallowed, his fingers tapping the edge of the tray. The silence was different now: it wasn't just embarrassment, it was nervous. For once, Craig wasn't trying to pull him back.
Michael took his cell phone from his pocket and quickly typed something. Then he looked up and stared at the people he had just met.
"I have to go, guys. It was nice meeting you," he said, with that carefree smile that still seemed to be taking in everything around him.
Clyde wasted no time.
“Thanks, man!” he shouted, patting Michael’s shoulder lightly.
Token nodded, more restrained, but smiling.
— Bye, Michael. It was nice meeting you.
Butters immediately stood up, leaving Kenny confused.
— I'll go with you.
Kenny, nearby, crossed his arms and scowled. His usual shy demeanor betrayed a hint of jealousy, mixed with indignation. Michael approached Tweek, causing the blond to look up in surprise.
"Hey, Tweek. It was really nice to meet you," he said, in a light but firm tone, catching the blond's attention.
Tweek tried to respond, saying goodbye cheerfully, although he still felt nervousness tightening his chest.
—AH! It was… nice to get to know you better — he said quickly, fidgeting with his hands nervously.
Finally, Michael turned to Craig. He gave a quick, half-hearted wave. Craig merely looked up from his phone for a moment, expressionless, and then returned his gaze to the screen. He didn't bother responding.