Chapter Text
In elementary school, the static only ever helped. When he got in trouble for fighting, Craig would use it to stare down teachers that thought they knew him without ever actually talking to him. He’d use the apathy and silence to make the adults squirm and scowl before they would finally relent and let him leave. Then, he'd turn right back around and get into another fight with whatever kid pissed him off next.
In middle school it was still mostly helpful. It made it impossible for Cartman to get a rise out of him, which was honestly the best way to handle the fucked up little bigot. Teachers had long since learned to leave him alone, and the ability to maintain an apathetic poker face around his peers made him intimidating and difficult to approach, which was exactly how he preferred it.
Now, though, in high school?
It never left.
Craig wasn’t sure if he minded, or cared at all really. It was comforting in its familiarity, and he never really got angry like he used to. Less fights were for the best, not that anyone dared to approach him anymore. The reputation gained in his earlier years had been helpful in that aspect.
The static made it pretty difficult to think, though, and his already mediocre grades had free-fallen into piss poor. His mother frets over this, and his father makes it a point to take his phone every night to “help him focus on homework”, as if that was the problem. Craig is fine to let them think that, he just goes to bed early every night anyways.
“Hey man, you alright?” Clyde gently grabs his elbow to get his attention and snaps him out of his internal musings.
Right, they’re at lunch and instead of eating Craig has been staring blankly up at a stupid food pyramid poster without realizing it.
“Yeah, guess I’m not hungry,” he shrugs, pushing his tray towards Clyde.
Clyde happily takes his pudding and digs in, but doesn’t let it go, “No I mean, you don’t look so good, dude, you been sleeping?”
“I stayed up a little late last night, I guess,” he says, a blatant lie. He went upstairs right after dinner and fell asleep almost immediately.
Token tuts softly, “You know you shouldn’t stay up late all the time man, save it for the hangout at mine this weekend.”
Right, a hangout Token’s was planned just the other day. Week? Whatever, point was that he had an obligation this weekend that he can’t wiggle out of.
“You scheduled to work this weekend?”
“Just Saturday, yeah.”
“Oh, when are you off?”
“Six.”
“Perfect! I’ll come pick you up to hang at my place, cool?”
“Uh…”
Token was getting a little too good at getting around Craig’s bullshit and trapping him into hanging out with them. He should feel mad about being coddled like a toddler, but instead he just feels a little warm in the sternum.
“What are we getting up to anyways?” Clyde asks, “Another Smash tournament? Jimmy will just kick our asses as Kirby again.”
“B-b-be grateful, y-you’re in the p-p-pres-p-p,” Jimmy takes a deep breath, “You’re among the g-greatest Smash player ever.” He grins and Clyde punches him in the arm.
“You only win because you main Kirby and you know it.”
“I was actually thinking we could watch that new horror flick, since Halloween is just around the corner.”
Clyde whines, “Nooo, I hate horror movies.”
“C’mon, get into the spooky mood, man. Don’t be a wuss,” Token grins and shakes his arm slightly.
He groans dramatically and Craig almost, almost smiles.
“Hey boys,” Bebe says sweetly, sauntering up to their table.
Clyde immediately straightens with a flush on his face, “O-oh! Hey Bebe!”
Craig tries valiantly not to roll his eyes.
“I was just wondering if you four would like to come to my Halloween party? Since it lands on a Saturday this year, I'm going all out,” she winks and Clyde practically melts.
“Who’s all coming?” Token asks.
“Anyone and everyone, silly. Nicole included,” she smirks at Token when he visibly perks up.
“We’ll totally be there, B-Bebe,” Jimmy butts in, “N-n-need us to b-bring anything?”
She hums in thought, “Well me and the girls got it mostly covered, but I could use some help getting some more booze?” She flutters her eyelashes at Craig.
He stares back.
It's not totally out of left field for her to be asking him this, he works at the only gas station in town with Kenny McCormick, resident dealer to all parties in South Park.
“Ask Kenny yourself,” he scowls.
She pouts, “C’mon Tucker, help your girl out here.”
“Not my girl,” he mutters, but gets ignored.
“Here,” she passes him a wad of bills, “Just ask Kenny to get us enough to get this whole school hammered. He can keep the rest, obviously.”
Craig flips her off, but pockets the money anyway.
“I’ll pitch in too,” Token hums, pulling out his wallet and passing over a few bills.
“Aw, thanks Token. I'll make sure to let Nicole know what a team player you are,” she winks and flounces off before Token can stutter out an embarrassed reply.
Clyde chuckled and nudged Token, “Dude you need to just ask her out.”
“Yeah, like you need to just ask Bebe out,” Token snarks.
“W-why wouldn't she ask K-Kenny herself?” Jimmy asks before the two could bicker about girls again.
Craig sighs, “He tends to disappear during lunch, she probably didn't want to bother looking for him.”
He tactfully doesn't point out that Bebe would rather die than be caught “consorting” with Kenny McCormick on school grounds. The boy’s less than stellar reputation as the resident manwhore and playboy makes talking to him social suicide among the girls. A fact that makes Kenny cackle with laughter every time it's brought up.
Craig supposed he could see why Kenny was so popular for a quick romp, he was the type of boy you brought home to your parents to make your mom gasp and your dad angry. A rebellious boyfriend. His blond hair was shaggy, and curled slightly at the nape of his neck. He was pierced almost wherever someone could have piercings; ears, eyebrow, lip, nose and likely more under the collar that Craig didn’t want to know about.
They had become unlikely friends through their job at the small gas station near the highway. Little Craig would probably have a come apart over being friends with one of Stan’s gang, but Kenny was a cool guy to be around.
“Why are you even friends with those three anyways?”
“Ah, well you know. We’ve been friends for so long it’s like we don’t know how to be anything else. Stan and Kyle are fine most of the time, Cartman has been getting on my fucking nerves though.”
Technically, Craig and Kenny were both too young to be selling cigarettes and beer at the gas station, but the manager didn’t seem to give a shit how old they were. He would happily fuck off as soon as either of them clocked in, leaving them to their own devices.
Hence why they were both out back, slacking off and smoking, the door cracked to listen for the bell of the front entrance.
“Hey, before I forget again, Bebe wants booze for Halloween,” Craig digs through his pocket to pull out the wad of bills that he had held onto for days now.
Kenny raises his pierced eyebrow and sticks his cigarette in his lip to take the bills, “You’ve been forgetting a lot of stuff lately - goddamn,” he mutters as he counts it, “Is she trying to get the whole school plastered?”
“Pretty much,” he shrugs, “Says you can keep the extra.”
“How generous,” he coos, tucking the bills into the pocket of his cargo pants, “Should be a real rager, you going?”
“Hell no,” he scoffs, taking a drag of his cigarette, “I’d rather swim naked in Stark's Pond during a blizzard.”
Kenny laughs, “I’d pay to see that, little Craigory would get even smaller.”
Craig flips him off, “Shut your damn mouth, McCormick. And stop calling me Craigory, for fuck’s sake.”
He just pulls a deep drag off his cigarette and blows the smoke into Craig's face, “You know, a party might do you some good. Get tipsy, get loose, get out of your own head for a couple hours, you know? You seem like you need it.”
Craig squirms under Kenny’s observant gaze, “Why’s everyone think something's wrong? I’m fine.”
“Dunno,” Kenny's face goes from scrutinizing to relaxed, “You’ve just been putting out a weird vibe lately, can’t really tell what's causing it.”
“Well I’m fine, really.”
“If you say so dude,” he shrugs, “Let’s head inside, I'm freezing my fucking balls off out here.”
They head back in, shivering, just in time for Token to walk through the door, ringing the bell.
“Aw shit, is it six already?” Kenny groans, “Craigory don't leave me like this, it's so busy.”
Token furrows his brow and glances around the empty store, but Craig just rolls his eyes and flips him off.
“I’m sure you can handle the crowd, and stop calling me Craigory!”
He grabs his backpack out of the office and hurriedly clocks out at the computer. “Okay dude, let's go,” he says to Token.
“Yeah sure, do you mind if we stop for coffee? I'm gonna need it if we're gonna marathon slasher flicks all night.”
Craig frowns, “Huh? We have coffee here dude.”
Token grimaces, “Yeah, no thanks. The coffee here tastes like tar.”
“Are you going to Tweek’s?” Kenny chimes in, “You’ll have to tell him I say hi, make sure to blow him a kiss from me too.”
“Tweek’s? What?” Craig blinks.
“It's that new coffee house that opened this summer, the new kid and his parents run the place,” Token explains.
“New kid?” he frowns.
“Oh dude, you haven't met Tweek yet?” Kenny grins, leaning on the counter, “He’s a riot, real easy to rile up. You’ll like him, he's a funny guy.”
Token hums in thought, “He's…interesting, that's for sure. I'm surprised you haven't seen him, he's very…noticeable.”
“Right…” Craig says, “I don't mind if we stop for your coffee man, let's just go.”
“Have a good night~” Kenny says in a sing-song voice, waving as they walk out the door.
Token’s shiny new sedan was blessedly warm when Craig flops unceremoniously into the passenger seat, “Dude, did you turn on the seat warmer already? You’re the best.”
“Yeah, I knew you two were likely slacking off out back,” Token says as he gets in, “You eat anything yet? Clyde is picking up dinner.”
“Lemme guess, tacos?”
“Of course,” he laughs.
The drive to Tweek’s is blessedly short and Craig takes in the sight of the coffeehouse he’s somehow missed. It looks cozy from what he can tell, warm lighting pouring from windows that take up the entire front of the store. Inside he can see tables and chairs like expected, but also couches and armchairs.
“Come in with me,” Token nudges him after parking.
Craig heaves a deep sigh and hops out of the car. A short dizzy spell has him holding the door for a second, but he shakes it off easily enough. Ever since he grew past six feet, he’s been getting mild head rushes whenever he stands up too fast. It’s annoying but fine, he doesn’t think much of it.
Predictably, the inside of Tweek’s Bros Coffee smells like coffee, a scent he finds pleasant even though he doesn’t drink the stuff. The walls are sparsely decorated with generic stock photos, save for the bulletin board advertising local events which Craig examines. A slight ringing in his left ear has him scowling and rubbing a knuckle into it.
“W-Welcome! -ngh- To Tweek’s Bros! What can I get you!?”
“Hey Tweek, how’s your night so far?” Token smiles, striding up to the counter.
“FINE! AUGH!”
Craig turns away from the bulletin board to stare at the barista. He’s shaking, despite the warmth of the shop, and gripping his apron over his heart with one hand while the other tugs at his blond hair. He’s pale, with dark circles under his eyes and a smattering of freckles across his nose and cheeks.
“Tweek,” Token says, gentle like he’s approaching a spooked animal, “This is my buddy Craig, you might have seen him around school. Craig, this is Tweek, we share a study hall.”
Craig watches as Tweek yanks harder on his apron, expression blank.
“N-Nice to -ack- meet you! Craig!” Tweek shouts, flinching.
“Uh-huh,” he replies, plain as milk.
“Oh, and Kenny says hi?” Token adds on, “Do you know him?”
“O-oh sure,” Tweek mutters, “He’s in my math -erk- class! But it’s not like we hang out?!”
“Ah, well he told me to blow you a kiss too, but I’m not gonna do that. He’s a bit of a notorious flirt.”
“To anyone that breathes,” Craig adds with a deadpan.
Tweek’s eyes flit between the two of them, “So he’s just…l-like that?”
They both nod, Craig solemn and Token exasperated.
“OH THANK GOD.” Tweek shouts, making them both startle, he slaps his hands over his mouth to muffle himself, “I-I didn’t know how to turn him down.”
Token bursts out laughing and Tweek blushes a bright pink. Craig absently wonders how far down that blush can go.
…wait, huh?
“You’re a funny guy Tweek, you should sit with us at lunch sometime,” Token wipes a tear, still chuckling. “Anyways, can I get a large latte and one of those blueberry scones for Craig?”
That brings Craig’s attention back, “I didn’t ask for a scone.”
“Yeah, but look at you man, you’re swaying. I bet you haven’t eaten since breakfast. Just let me treat you, man.”
Craig actually hadn’t eaten anything, breakfast was an energy drink, and lunch a cigarette with Kenny; not that he was going to mention that.
“Y-you do look a little unbalanced…” Tweek says. He rings up Token’s order, scone included. As Token pays on the card reader he grabs the scone and passes it to Craig with a little smile. “I -ah!- made them this morning, so it might be a little s-stale. Sorry.”
“It’s fine, thanks,” he grunts, taking it.
Tweek turns to start making Token’s drink, and Craig takes a bite, figuring he might as well. To his surprise, though, he actually really likes it. It’s supposed to be blueberry, but he also can taste lemons, and while it is sweet it isn’t overwhelming. Suddenly, he’s ravenous.
“Holy shit,” he mutters, taking a second, bigger bite.
“Good?” Token raises an eyebrow. Craig nods, mouth full. “Lemme try.” Token makes a grab for it and gets sidestepped for it.
“No, fuck off, get your own.” Craig takes another big bite and dodges Token again.
“Dude! Just let me try it!”
“No!”
“Uh, g-guys?” Tweek interrupts, timid. “Your latte’s done.”
Craig quickly crams the last of the scone into his mouth and triumphantly flips Token off.
“God, you’re such a dick,” Token rolls his eyes, picking up his coffee, “Thanks Tweek, you’re a lifesaver.”
“U-uhm! If you want…you can take a couple more,” he says, suddenly bashful.
Craig wants to bite him…wait, what the fuck?
“They’ll get thrown out w-when we close…and that's, uh, wasteful, so…”
“Are you sure, Tweek?” Token blinks in surprise, “I can pay, I don’t mind.”
“I-I’m sure! Here,” he quickly grabs the last of them, a total of four, “You can take the rest, they’ll just get stale otherwise.”
Token takes them, “Wow, thanks man,” his voice oddly soft, “You should seriously come sit with us at lunch Monday.”
“O-Okay!”
Token smiles, “See you then!”
They leave and Craig is quiet on the ride to Token's. Tweek really was "noticeable" like Token had said. His shivering and twitching was hard to miss, and he wondered how he hadn't seen the boy before. It actually made him think of Stripe, his beloved guinea pig. Maybe that explained the odd...thoughts he'd had in the shop. He wasn't willing to examine that too closely though.