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If there was one thing in the world Tweek was good at, it was worrying.
Sure, everyone thought he was good at lots of things, too. Even if that was true, he’s sure they’d all agree that worrying took the cake.
That’s what made this suck the most. He hadn’t even been worrying.
But, of course, Cartman and his stupid friends had to go and remind him of what he was best at.
“H-Hey man, what do I have to do with this?!”
Tweek’s leg had begun bouncing as soon as the conversation had shifted in his direction. His fingers picked at the chicken tenders so furiously that the tray rattled against the table like the metronome that sat atop his families piano.
“Look,” Cartman began, glancing to where Tweek sat to his right, “all we’re saying is that your boyfriend was voted number one… at least before that bitch Bebe fixed the votes.”
Tweek’s gaze shot to the side, suddenly very interested in a rogue ant on the lunch room floor and definitely* not trying to hide the small blush forming at the mention of his boyfriend.
“Ack! So what?! Who cares about that stupid list, anyways?”
Tweek crossed his arms over his small frame, trying to appear stern. However, his posture came across more like he was hugging himself, cowering under the intense gaze of the boys around him.
“So what?!” Cartman spat, bits of spit flying across the table eliciting a laugh from Kenny and a glare from Kyle who after wiping his coat with his hands, began adding to the conversation.
“I mean…” he started in between bites of his pepperoni pizza, “Cartman does kind of have a point.”
Stan nodded from his seat beside the redhead, not bothering to look up from his own lunch.
The all-too-familiar feeling of dread began to settle in the pit of Tweek’s stomach. They were alluding to something that Tweek couldn’t quite grasp and the feeling of missing out on an important, seemingly obvious, piece of information had his chest starting to feel tighter.
“W-What-ngh-do you mean?” Tweek cursed silently as his left eye twitched shut and his hand clutched at his shirt. Well, there go his attempts at looking nonchalant.
Across the table, Kyle and Stan shared a knowing look with each other before snorting softly.
“I mean…” Stan started, his attention falling to Tweek, “you can’t even button your shirt, dude.”
Stan’s smile faltered, twisting into a grimace. It’s not that he meant it as a dig; it had simply been a statement of fact. But he could sense the impact it had on Tweek.
Tweek’s eyes fell to his wrinkled shirt with a weak hum. The buttons were in all the wrong holes, causing the fabric to wrinkle and bunch in odd places.
He quickly ripped his hand from where it’d been twisting in the fabric, shoving his fist under the table and against the fabric of his jeans, instead.
“What he’s saying is Craig’s dating you, Tweek,” Cartman sneered between bites of his burger.
“You’re dating number one.”
Tweek shuddered involuntarily, his fingers instinctively flying up to his matted blonde hair. He tugged at the wiry locks, screwing his eyes shut
“Gah! That is way too much pressure!”
“That’s kinda what we’re getting at, dude,” Kyle said from across the table, Stan stifling a laugh at his side.
It was Kyle’s turn to hold back a laugh as Stan started to speak.
“It’s just… Craig could have anyone, and you’re so… you.”
The nervousness that had been gnawing at Tweek’s chest both dropped to his stomach and clawed up his throat as a whole new bout of emotions flooded him. Forget being worried, Tweek was embarrassed. He felt ashamed. He felt angry.
How did they have any right to sit there and talk about his looks when Cartman had been voted last?
“T-that’s not fair! M-my looks were only voted tenth!”
“You think the list was based on looks alone? Man, the girls are shallow but not that shallow,” Kyle replied. Kenny let out a muffled noise of agreement and a nod from beside Cartman.
“He’s saying you’re a spaz, Tweek.”
“Shut up, fatass!”
“What?! It’s not my fault Craig’s dating a total schizo!”
The four boys began bickering back and forth, a noise that was muted by the thundering pulse in Tweek’s ears. Suddenly, all he could do was stare down at his lap, arms crushing against his ribs like a makeshift straitjacket.
“-like, is that even legal?”
“Dude, what are you even saying?”
“Can the clinically insane even consent?”
Tweek’s tics increased with every hurtful word that was used to describe him. Each one pierced through his already frayed defenses, shattering any attempts he made at retreating to his center.
The bell blared shortly after, marking the end of lunch and reminding the students to return to class.
Tweek took no time in darting up from his seat and haphazardly slinging his backpack over his shoulders, walking as fast as he could away from all the jeers.
Kyle’s muttered, “Kenny’s right, that was too far, man—” barely registered over the relentless echo in Tweek’s head. The same words looped again and again, like a sickening mantra he couldn’t escape.
As soon as he entered the hallway, he made a beeline for the boys bathroom, not caring if he was late to class. He barreled through the stall furthest away from the door before locking it shut with trembling hands.
He whipped around, slamming his back against the locked door and raking his fingers through his hair. He knew Craig didn’t like it when he did that, hence the multiple fidget spinners he’d gifted the shorter boy, but the pain grounded him.
Damn it.
Craig.
All at once, the pressure that had been building up inside of him burst like water from a dam. He paced the tiny stall back and forth while his thoughts ran rampant.
Stupid, stupid, stupid. You’re so stupid! Why would he like you? Why would anyone like you?
His shaking hands found their way from his hair to his shirt, clumsily trying to fix the buttons and straighten out the wrinkles.
“C-can’t even-hng-button your-ack-s-stupid shirt right…” he muttered to himself. His hands were shaking way more than usual, making any attempt at fixing his shirt fruitless. Still, he grew more and more frustrated at himself for not being able to complete such a seemingly simple task. He was in the fourth grade for crying out loud, this was a kindergarten level task.
Desperate to shift the blame, he directed his anger in any direction he could find. First, at his clueless parents for failing to fix his shirt before rushing out of the house, then at his friends and Stan’s gang. Why wouldn’t they offer to help? If it bugged them so much, why not just say something? His vision swam as hot tears welled in his eyes, the misaligned buttons blurring into meaningless shapes.
As hard as he tried to find someone else to blame, he knew the fault was all his own.
Defeated, his hands returned to yank and pull at his hair, nails digging into his scalp as if he could physically pry open his brain and tell it to quit. He let his back slide down the wall as he curled into himself, bringing his knees to chest and feeling the thick droplets of tears soak into his jeans.
“Stupid, stupid, so—gah—so s-stupid—hng…”
Crying usually helped him feel better, but for some reason the panic clawing at his ribs was only increasing, his breath catching and heart pounding in an uncomfortable rhythm.
Caught between the brutal one-two cycle of insults—both others’ and self-directed—and the unfinished task of fixing his shirt, Tweek’s neck jerked awkwardly. His head jolted towards his shoulder as his hand latched onto his tangled hair, only to unintentionally smack into his temple with a dizzying force. The impact sent a shock down his spine, the dull throbbing silencing the thoughts in his head.
Before he’d even realized what he was doing, he was slapping his hand against the side of his head as hard as he could to drown out the noise. Deciding he preferred the dull pain of his knuckles over the sting of the slaps, he curled his fingers into a weak fist and continued pounding them against his skull while his teeth bit at the skin on his other hand.
This continued on for several minutes before he began feeling dizzy and lightheaded, a feeling he much favored over the paralyzing panic he was trapped in earlier.
He sniffled, wiping his tears and snot away with his sleeves before looking down at the irritated red teeth marks and surrounding pink skin of his hands.
“Hng, s-stupid…”
His hands were still shaking.
“What kinda f-freak b-bites himself…”
He buried his head in his crossed arms that were perched against his knees as the sudden exhaustion from his meltdown washed over him.
“He knows you’re crazy, he knows, he hates you,” he muttered to no one, voice dropping into the quiet sleepy whisper he usually slipped into after his throat was raw from shouting.
At this point, Tweek couldn’t care less about falling asleep on the floor of the boys bathroom. He was too tired to worry about getting a deadly disease from all the germs.Tweek let his puffy eyes slip shut and for once the idea of dying seemed more peaceful than terrifying.
______
Across the hall, Craig sat slumped against his desk, head propped up by his hand and eyes half-lidded as he listened to Ms. Nelson drone on about times tables.
Somewhere around problem seven, his attention started to wander around the classroom. His eyes flicked from Cartman and Kenny’s juvenile spitball war to Clyde’s pathetic attempts at passing a note to Bebe which were thwarted by Wendy, as usual. Typical school bullshit. It got so bad that, for a moment, he genuinely considered raising his hand to answer Ms. Nelson’s question just to escape his boredom.
It wasn’t until Craig rolled his eyes that he noticed the empty desk a few spots away from him.
Craig frowned, sitting up a bit straighter as he realized who was missing from the spot.
Almost instantly, he ripped a corner from his worksheet and scrawled a note on the scrap before folding it and passing the slip of paper to Clyde who sat beside him.
Clyde excitedly opened the slip of paper, expecting it to be from Bebe, and didn’t bother hiding the look of disappointment on his face when he recognized the handwriting.
Why isn’t Tweek here?
Craig pretended not to get excited as Clyde wrote back an answer and swiftly passed it his way.
How should I know? I’m not your boyfriends keeper
Craig sighed and rolled his eyes yet again before responding.
Did he say anything to you about missing class at lunch today?
Clyde passed him back the scrap of paper.
He didn’t sit with us at lunch we thought he was with u
That had Craig feeling a bit on edge. Craig had been given lunch detention for the day after he had flipped off Mr. Mackey for the third time that week.
“Craig, Clyde, eyes up here please,” Ms. Nelson cut them off, right as Craig was preparing to hand back the note, “Then, we are going to divide by…”
As Craig re-adjusted his attention towards the board, he saw Kyle glance between him and Tweek’s empty desk. He frowned sheepishly as Craig caught his eyes, quickly fixing his gaze back on his own paper.
Okay, so now he had a lead.
As soon as the bell rang, Craig was bounding from his seat and stalking Kyle to his locker.
The redhead was somehow already in the middle of a heated debate with Cartman, to which Craig had no qualms interrupting.
“Where’s Tweek?”
“Geez, what happened to ‘hi’?”
“Hi,” Craig deadpanned. “Where’s Tweek?”
Kyle rolled his eyes and sighed.
“How am I supposed to know? I haven’t seen him since lunch.”
Craig noticed Kenny’s posture shift a bit at the mention of the meal.
“Yeah! Keep your dog on a tighter leash, Craig!”
The only response the taller boy dignified Cartman with was the extension of his middle finger.
“C’mon, dude. I know you noticed he wasn’t in class.”
“Come to think of it, it was pretty quiet without all his twitching,” Stan added, his thick brows furrowing in thought.
“Look man, I'm gonna be late. I don’t know where he is. Sorry.”
Kyle turned to catch up with his other little friends who had already begun walking down the hall, Kenny excitedly yelling out to Butters as he joined them.
Craig was faced with a very difficult choice.
He could either let Kyle and his stupid friends walk away and go look for Tweek himself, or he could press Kyle further on the matter with the risk that he’d look like he needed him.
The only thing Craig needed was to find Tweek. If that happened to be through Kyle he could put up with it. Plus, Kyle was probably the least obnoxious out of Stan’s gang and seemed to understand the vulnerabilities of love.
“Wait, Kyle,” Craig called out to the freckled boy just loud enough to capture his attention and his attention alone.
“What?”
Craig huffed, swallowing his pride. He had never been great at reading people’s emotions, but he knew the look on Kyle’s face at Tweek’s empty chair had to mean *something.
“You looked… concerned… when Tweek wasn’t in class. You may not know where he is, but—like, did he mention not feeling well, or something?”
Kyle’s expression returned to the exact one the dark-haired boy was referring to, and at a closer glance, it finally resonated with Craig just what exactly it was.
Kyle didn’t look concerned. He looked guilty.
“Kyle.”
“It’s that stupid list, okay! It’s messing with everyone! We weren’t trying to be mean— well, I mean, maybe a little bit— Cartman for sure, but—”
“Kyle—”
“Look I don’t know where he is, but he looked pretty upset, man. I’m sorry, okay? I’ve got to get to class, but let me know when you find him, okay?”
Kyle turned sharply and jogged in the direction his friends had left, giving Craig no chance to intervene.
Of course. Craig should have known.
That stupid list had caused so much trouble with Kyle moping about and Clyde acting like he owned the school. Craig hated to admit that a part of him liked the drama of it all and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t hoping at least one fight would come from it.
He couldn't care less who placed where, but the fallout was always entertaining.
Craig loved watching fights with Tweek, but he didn’t like seeing Tweek involved in fights like this.
Had it even been a fight? Come to think of it, Craig couldn’t think of anything about the list that would make his boyfriend any more anxious than he already was.
Whatever it had been, Craig knew he had to go find Tweek. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d skipped school to go check on him, and it probably wouldn’t be the last.
_____
The sound of his phone pinging slowly guided Tweek's focus out of his own meltdown. He’d reached that familiar point of crying where he had no tears left to spill, and felt a heavy cloak of exhaustion settle over his chest like a weighted blanket. His head felt fuzzy and his arms ached but at least the worst was over.
Tweek blinked blearily at the pixelated screen and felt his stomach twist at the notification.
Craig <3
Hey, honey. Are you okay? You weren’t in class. I’m gonna come over to your place so don’t freak out if there’s a knock on the door :3
Tweek couldn’t help the small smile that spread across his face while reading the message. As much as he’d like to ignore the message and give Craig the space he deserved, his neediness in this state overtook any selflessness he had left in him.
Tweek could talk to Craig. It was his favorite thing. So why did it suddenly feel so heavy? Your favorite thing wasn’t supposed to make you feel like a cement block was weighing on your chest, was it?
Tweek <3
hi craig sorry om okay im not home im at school dont worry luv u sorry
Tweek closed his phone and slid it back into his pocket. He stood up, blinking away the stars that had scattered his vision, and wiped at his snotty face with tear-soaked sleeves.
Passing by the mirror, he saw just how absolutely awful he looked. Even if the list wasn’t just about looks, his sure weren’t doing him any favors.
Unable to bear looking at himself for any longer, he turned to leave.
Right as he was about to push open the door, he was met face-to-face with the very boy he’d tried to avoid witnessing him like this.
“Hey, Tweek, there you are- have you been crying?”
“Wah? N-no! I mean, ngh, yes, but I’m okay now.”
“Why were you crying? Was it because of that stupid list the girls made? Kyle mentioned something about it.”
Tweek felt his cheeks flame. He opened his mouth to argue an excuse, but nothing came out.
“It’s okay if it is, you know.”
“What?”
“If that’s why you were crying. I mean, it’s not okay, but it’s understandable.”
Tweek felt something tighten in his chest, his instinct to curl in on himself growing stronger as they continued to stand awkwardly in the doorway.
‘Understandable’ meant that they had been right. Tweek should be upset, because everything they had said was the truth.
Tweek didn’t push him on it, a thick feeling in his throat preventing him from digging for any more evidence of what he already knew to be true.
“What are you doing here anyway? S-shouldn’t you-ack!-be in class?”
“I came to find you.”
As if Tweek could feel any worse.
The honest admission relit the flame of guilt and triggered tears to try and extinguish it.
“You shouldn’t have done that. Y-you shouldn’t skip class for me. You could get in trouble! What if you get detention? Or-or your dad gets mad and grounds you and then we can never see each other again because I'm such a-ngh-bad influence?! It’ll be all my fault!”
“Deep breaths, honey,” Craig’s hands reached to remove Tweek’s own from his hair. “I don’t care about any of that. I care about you.”
Tweek let out a frustrated growl, flinching away from Craig who had reached out to hold him.
“That right there! That’s what I’m upset about! That!”
“What?”
“You saying you care about me!”
“But I do?”
“Well stop it!” Tweek had balled his fists at his side, a little boy trying to appear resolute and confident when he was anything but. “You caring about me is way too much pressure!”
Craig fought the urge to approach the boy who he wanted nothing more than to embrace. Instead, the tanned boy simply stood still and relaxed his stance, as if to signal safety to the blonde who had backed away like a cornered animal.
“That doesn’t really make any logical sense, Tweek. I thought you we’re upset about the list? What does that have to do with me?”
“It has everything to do with you, Craig! I couldn’t care less what they say about me! It’s you who I’m worried about. You’re so amazing, and-and handsome, and strong, and perfect, and I’m…I’m—” Tweek sighed roughly through his teeth, his shoulders sagging. “…I’m holding you back.”
Craig could see the exact moment the resolve and anger morphed into exhaustion and vulnerability.
“Why do you think that, honey?”
“Because it’s true! I don’t deserve someone as amazing as you, and you certainly don’t deserve someone as messed up as me.”
“First of all, it’s not true. Second of all, if Stan and his asshole friends said anything to make you think that, I’ll kill them for real. You can help. They taught us how to fight, so it’s only fair we get to use it against them.”
Tweek felt a small smile tug at his lips. As much as he hated confrontation, the mere fact that Craig seemed so certain and nonchalant about protecting him from bullies made him feel safe. He wiped a stray tear from his cheek.
“Y-you shouldn’t have to do that, Craig. You shouldn’t have to-argh-skip class or get in fights for me.”
“I don’t have to do anything, babe. I want to do that stuff. I’d do anything for you, Tweek”
Tweek covered his face with his hands, squeezing his eyes shut.
“Don’t say that, Craig.”
“But it’s true.”
“Then I’d rather you just lie to me.”
It was quiet for a second before Tweek felt two warm hands wrap around his, pulling them down from where they had been shielding his eyes.
“Well, I’d rather you know the truth. I love you more than anything, Tweek. More than Red Racer. More than outer space.”
Tweek blushed and smiled, “More than Stripe?”
“Well let’s not be drastic now, babe.”
Tweek rolled his eyes. Before he could open his mouth to protest, there was a soft kiss placed on his lips. It was just a quick peck, not even a second, but it instantly had Tweek’s freckles disappearing under his blush.
“Eww, Craig! Don’t kiss in the bathroom! Think about all the germs!”
Craig just smiled and pulled the blonde closer. He’d been itching to hold onto the blonde in any way since he’d seen his empty seat. He deepened the hug, wrapping his arms around the boy’s waist and soaking in the feeling of his smaller arms wrapping around his neck and shoulders.
“I love you too, Craig. More than anything.”
“I know, honey. And I’m serious about killing those guys.”
Tweek pulled back to meet his boyfriend’s warm gaze and crooked grin. For the first time since lunch, Tweek smiled.
“I know.”