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“Alright, can you guys stop laughing now…?”
“Stan, this look is insane hahaha! —— Jesus, Kyle, what the hell is wrong with you?!”
Kyle grabbed the box of hair dye lying in the corner and smacked Cartman over the head with it.
“Shut up, Cartman!”
Stan just shot Kyle a sideways glance. He was clearly holding back a laugh — this whole dare had been his idea, after all.
He turned his gaze back to his reflection in the mirror and tuned out Cartman and Kyle’s pointless bickering.
He ran a hand through his unfamiliar hair, now dyed a bright, unnatural gold, and frowned.
“You know, Bebe actually did a decent job. It’s just… a little poofy.”
He’d never realized his hair was this terrible.
“Hey, Stan, if you mess it up like that, you actually kind of look like Tweek.”
“Cartman!”
Stan’s hand froze in his hair. He stiffened, not sure what to do for a second, then forced himself to relax. “Really? I think it’s fine.”
Cartman finally took the hint and changed the subject. “Looks like a stupid lion. I’d suggest you dye it back sometime.”
Everyone in South Park who knew Stan knew he liked Craig — everyone except Craig himself.
That is, until three months ago, when Craig and Tweek walked hand in hand down the hallway. After that, everyone knew they were together.
Stan had felt the world spin that day. He didn’t blame anyone; he was just jealous — jealous that Tweek got to know, to touch, to experience that side of Craig no one else saw, the side he’d been curious about for so long.
It had been a gray day then, not quite sunny, not quite rainy — just like today.
Stan stared into the mirror again, lost in thought. For a second, his reflection seemed to morph into Tweek’s, their faces overlapping.
“Hey, guys! Why is Tweek with you?”
Stan sighed. Kenny immediately realized who it was.
“Oh! Stan! Sorry, your back looks just like Tweek’s!”
“It’s fine. I just… need to, uh, fix this.” He grabbed a handful of hair, grabbed the hairspray, and gave it a few spritzes, combing it down. It actually looked halfway decent now.
“We’re heading out first. You better hurry, Stan — meet at my place in two hours.”
“Shut up, you fatass. If you and Wendy hadn’t snuck out to go have sex this morning, we wouldn’t have slept until five!”
“Yeah, Cartman!”
The sound of their footsteps and laughter faded down the hallway.
Stan let his shoulders drop, then stepped out of the bathroom and poked his head into his bedroom to check the time. He rushed to tame his hair into something less ridiculous and pulled on a decent shirt.
Staring at himself in the mirror, he still felt a little dazed — probably from the hangover.
Last night the four of them, plus Bebe and Wendy, had played Truth or Dare until late. His head was still foggy. The only thing that stuck out clearly was that tomorrow was Craig’s engagement party with Tweek.
Everyone had thrown this little pre-party just to keep him from feeling too miserable.
“That’s enough, Stan Marsh. Get it together.”
They met up in front of Cartman’s house, piled into the car, and headed for Craig’s place.
“Hey, you actually look way better with the styled hair, dude! It’s just… your vibe is different.”
“What vibe?” Stan laughed.
Cartman adopted a high-pitched, mock-emo voice. “‘What vibe~’ Hey emo boy! I don’t even know there’s a question!”
The car erupted in laughter. The mood stayed light until they pulled up to Craig’s house.
“Hey, just pretend you’re strangers. You’re not that close anyway, and he doesn’t know you liked him.”
“Yeah!”
Stan stared up at the steps, swallowed hard, and nodded. “Yeah…” His voice shook, betraying his calm front. “It’s fine.”
“Come on! Don’t be a pussy!”
Cartman strode up and banged on the door three times. No answer.
He was about to knock again when the door was suddenly yanked open, and the host’s face appeared. “Here we come.”
Stan and Craig’s eyes met by accident.
Stan couldn’t look away. Just looking at his face made his heart race. Craig’s deep amber eyes seemed like they could see right through him, and the few strands of black hair falling loosely over his forehead only made his features sharper.
“Uh… quick question. Kyle, where’s Stan Marsh?”
Kyle buried his face in his hand and exchanged a look with Kenny. The two of them immediately doubled over laughing. Cartman had started laughing before Craig even finished asking.
Kyle gave a thumbs-up and nodded in Stan’s direction.
“Uh… Yeah. Hi.”
“Oh. Cool.” Craig glanced away, scratching the back of his neck. “Honestly, I never pictured you as a blonde. I thought you’d go for something more rebellious, like… blue or green or whatever.”
“Why?” Stan looked up, meeting Craig’s eyes again.
Craig avoided his gaze, deliberately. “Your vibe. Blond doesn’t fit you.”
“Wow, Craig, didn’t know you were so possessive of Stan’s hair.”
“What? Kenny!”
The air went cold. Craig didn’t say anything else.
“So, can we come in now, fiancé?” Kyle finally spoke up, cutting through the awkward silence.
It was already nine o’clock, and the streets of South Park were quiet.
“Come in. Just don’t trash my party.”
The party was a bit of a mess, but luckily most of the people there were familiar faces.
Bebe brushed past Stan and patted him on the shoulder, giving him a thumbs-up.
Cartman quickly found Wendy and started talking to her. Kenny wandered off to smoke weed with some of the guys. That left just Kyle and Stan, sitting at the snack table, drinking cheap champagne that Craig, or Tweek, or maybe both of them had bought from the supermarket.
“Can I ask you something?” Kyle said, swirling his glass.
Stan squinted at him, then saw how serious his friend looked and straightened up. “Yeah?”
“Do you still like him?”
As soon as the question left Kyle’s mouth, Stan took a big gulp of champagne. “Uh… maybe. Why?”
“He was totally checking you out with the corner of his eye when we got here.”
Must be my imagination. It has to be.
Even though he could feel that burning gaze sweeping over him again and again, it had to be his imagination.
“Imagining things. No way. I heard everyone’s gonna play some game at ten. I’m kind of looking forward to that.”
He’d barely changed the subject when Kyle disappeared. Stan blinked and saw Tolkien had dragged him off to film another low-fat TikTok.
He sat there, sipping his drink, feeling his head grow heavier. He watched his friends making fools of themselves on the dance floor when someone suddenly poked him in the back.
“Jesus Christ! You scared the shit out of me.”
It was Tweek.
If his rival had been anyone else, Stan wouldn’t have hesitated to give them the cold shoulder. But this was Tweek — one of the few people in town he genuinely thought was a decent person.
When he thought about Tweek and Craig together, he didn’t really have anything to say. Besides his anxiety issues, Tweek was way better than him in just about every way.
“Stan?! You dyed your hair blonde! I almost didn’t recognize you!” Tweek exclaimed. “Where are the other guys? Why are you alone?”
“Ah… they’re all off doing their own thing. I’m fine, just… drinking.” Stan forced a smile, then remembered something. “Oh, right — congratulations on the engagement.”
He didn’t ask why Craig wasn’t with him.
“Thanks, Stan. I hope you find the one you really like too.”
Probably not,
The one I really like is your fiancé, he thought.
It wasn’t time for the game yet, so the two of them ended up dancing together. After a few songs, Stan’s hair was a disaster again. He excused himself to the bathroom, fixed it as best he could, and then headed back for the game.
It was a drinking game, and the stars of the show were the two grooms-to-be.
The guests asked questions, and the couple answered. If they couldn’t, they had to take a shot.
“Have you guys ever had sex?”
Craig took a shot, then stopped Tweek just as he was about to drink.
“If I drink, does that mean he doesn’t have to?”
The crowd erupted.
Stan felt his chest tighten, jealousy and envy washing over him.
Craig had always been the center of attention. It was like he’d never really noticed Stan at all.
Before he came out, the girls were all over him. After he came out, the guys were.
There were always people around him.
Just like now — Craig was surrounded again, a group of people laughing and talking.
Stan could only stand on the edge, catching a blurry glimpse of his smile.
“Is Tweek your first love?”
“No, my first love wasn’t Tweek.”
Stupid question.
“Are you gonna marry Tweek?”
It should have been the question that took the party to the next level.
But Craig was too good at killing the mood. He grabbed his glass and downed a shot, ignoring Tweek’s forced smile.
“I’m gonna go to the bathroom.”
Under everyone’s gaze and murmurs, Craig pushed his way out of the crowd and headed for the bathroom.
“Uh… let’s get two other people up here!”
“ME! Me me me!!”
“Alright, Cartman and Wendy, come on up!”
Stan barely processed what was happening. How the hell did the fatass and Wendy end up there?
Where was Craig?
There wasn’t much left to watch, so Stan decided to go wash his face in the bathroom, then find a quiet corner to sit for a while before leaving with Kyle.
When he got to the bathroom, he saw a familiar figure leaning against the wall — Craig, smoking a cigarette, his hair a messy mess.
Stan quietly washed his face next to him, not saying a word.
He’d just finished and stood up, not even having dried his face yet.
Suddenly, Craig crushed his cigarette under his shoe, stepped forward, grabbed the back of Stan’s neck, and kissed him.
Taking advantage of Stan’s shock, Craig pressed their bodies together and tilted his head, his tongue brushing against Stan’s lips.
Stan froze completely. He didn’t know what he was feeling — he was thrilled, confused, and terrified all at once.
Before Stan could make sense of anything, Craig’s other hand slid down the front of his pants, caressing him through the fabric.
Stan gathered what little courage he had and darted out his tongue, brushing it against Craig’s lips.
Craig let out a low laugh, the sound sending shivers down Stan’s spine. He took Stan’s tongue into his mouth, gently sucking, the soft, wet sounds making Stan’s face burn with embarrassment even as his excitement grew.
Craig’s tongue trailed from Stan’s chin down to his collarbone, pressing light kisses and soft sucks along the way.
Stan suddenly remembered how much his new hairstyle looked like Tweek’s. Craig was drunk—there was a good chance he was mistaking him for Tweek.
But just as he was about to pull away, Craig deepened the kiss and guided him into a guest room across from the bathroom.
The lights in the room were even dimmer. If Craig hadn’t recognized him before, he certainly wouldn’t now.
Please, just for one night.
Just let me be Craig’s for one night.
I’m sorry, I just like him too much.
So Stan didn’t resist. He let it happen.
He was laid gently on the bed. He sat up and kissed Craig back, tears of shame and excitement sliding down his cheeks.
Craig slowly removed his clothes, then his own.
Stan didn’t know how many times he’d imagined this moment, but he knew exactly how long he’d wanted Craig.
Craig pushed him back onto the bed, his hand moving between Stan’s legs.
God, it felt good. Tweek was really lucky.
Craig was surprisingly gentle and attentive, Stan realized. He took his time, focusing on what made Stan shake and gasp, until Stan could barely hold back anymore.
“It feels good, doesn’t it? I’ve barely started.”
Stan didn’t dare make a sound. If he did, Craig might realize he wasn’t Tweek. And then they wouldn’t even be friends anymore.
He pushed the thought aside, climbed onto his knees, and, guided by the faint moonlight from the window, reached for Craig.
He’s big.
That was his first thought.
He leaned down, wrapping his lips around him, his hand moving in time with his mouth, his other hand gently cupping Craig through his boxers.
Craig’s low, breathless groans and Stan’s quiet gasps filled the room, fueling the tension between them.
But at the same time, Stan couldn’t help thinking about the words he’d spoken earlier.
How did it come to this?
“Oh, right, congratulations on the engagement.”
“Thanks, Stan. I hope you find someone you really like too.”
Tweek’s smile kept flashing in his mind, clear as day.
I shouldn’t be doing this. I should tell him I’m not Tweek.
What would Tweek do if he found out?
“Focus.”
Craig’s breathy voice in his ear pulled him back from his guilty thoughts, grounding him in the heat of the moment.
Tweek will never know.
Craig tilted his chin up and kissed him, then reached for the nightstand. He spread Stan’s legs, preparing him carefully.
Stan bit down on his finger, forcing himself to stay quiet, letting out only harsh, shallow breaths.
He felt Craig’s fingers inside him, one, then two, moving slowly, stretching him.
It felt too good.
So this was what it was like, being with Craig.
“You’re really worked up, aren’t you?”
Stan felt shy and guilty in the dark. He turned his face away, not answering.
He could feel Craig’s body pressed against his, the tip of him brushing against his entrance. And then, suddenly, he pushed in.
Stan bit down hard on his lip to keep from crying out.
After that, everything became a blur of heat and movement. Craig’s hips moved in a steady rhythm, his hands gripping Stan’s waist, each thrust pushing him deeper into the mattress, each one more intense than the last.
Stan clutched the sheets, his lips still pressed tightly together, his breathing ragged.
Craig’s experience and confidence made it almost too easy to push him over the edge again and again.
Before he could even catch his breath, Craig kissed him, his tongue slipping into his mouth as his movements grew faster and harder.
Stan wrapped his arms around Craig’s back, trembling, unable to hold back any longer.
Craig moved to kiss his ear, then his neck, his teeth grazing gently against his skin. Stan’s mind went blank.
Tweek pushed open the door, with Kyle, Wendy, Cartman, and a few others right behind him.
“What the fuck? Stan? Craig?! How could you do this to me?!!”
Stan tried to scramble off the bed,
but the pleasure was still too intense. Why the hell was Craig still moving inside him?
And then Craig hit something inside him that made his vision white out.
“Craig..fuck..”
For a moment, he lost control and moaned his name out loud.
The second he realized what he’d done, he sucked in a sharp breath, clapped a hand over his mouth, and stared wide-eyed into the darkness.
He glanced nervously toward the door.
…There was no one there. It had been a hallucination.
“That good, huh, Stan? Don’t worry, I locked the door.”
What?
He called me… Stan?
He’d been sure Craig would pull away in disgust.
But Craig only paused for a second or two before resuming his movements, even harder than before.
Stan kept his mouth shut, guilt and shame warring with the pleasure that wouldn’t let up.
“You didn’t really think I thought you were Tweek, did you, babe?”
“Relax, I know it’s you. Stan Marsh, male, twenty-three, your dad’s name is Randy Marsh. If you want… I can keep going. You’re squeezing me too tight.”
What do I do? What about Tweek? How did everything get so messed up?
But his thoughts were drowned out by wave after wave of sensation.
“So go ahead and make some noise. Just not too loud. Everyone’s having fun outside.”
Craig suddenly lifted Stan’s legs onto his shoulders.
Stan could feel him go even deeper. With Craig’s permission hanging in the air, he let out a choked sound.
“Craig…”
“Jesus, Stan Marsh. You really are cute.”
Craig kept hitting that spot inside him, drawing out broken moans and garbled versions of his name.
“Wh—why… aren’t you… with Tweek today?” Stan managed between gasps.
“Because I realized I still like you, Stan.”
Stan froze, his mouth falling open in disbelief.
As their conversation shifted, Craig changed his rhythm, pulling out almost all the way before pushing back in, each time making Stan cry out.
“Tweek and I… broke up a while ago. I only went along with the engagement party to save his face. He… cheated on me. He practically begged me to do this.”
“Slower… ahh… that explains why you weren’t together today.”
“Yeah, Stan. By the way, did you really think it wasn’t obvious you liked me?”
Stan’s mind went blank again. All he could think about was kissing Craig. He wrapped his arms around his neck and pulled him close, his answer in the kiss and the tears on his face.
“Fuck, you feel so good, Stan. I’m close.”
Stan couldn’t respond. He’d already lost count of how many times he’d come.
“Craig… I really, really like you…”
“I like you too. Oh, and by the way? You look really hot as a blonde.”
Craig’s breathing grew faster, and with one last low groan, he finished, his release spilling over Stan’s thighs.
“So… what now?”
“What do you mean, what now?”
Stan hit him lightly on the shoulder, still trying to catch his breath.
“I’m pretty sure everyone heard you, you know. You were pretty loud.”
“Whatever you say.” Stan pulled the blanket over himself and closed his eyes.
For the first time in three years, he fell into a deep, peaceful sleep. The jealousy and anxiety that had plagued him for so long finally let him go.
He only hoped this wasn’t another dream. That in the morning, Craig would still be there beside him.