Pining for a Spaz

Sober

We held hands walking back home, and Tweek giggled almost non stop, and the best part, he pulled me into a drunken goodnight kiss in front of his house before scurrying manically inside.
I couldn't wipe the stupid smile from my face, and I definitely would've skipped all the way home if I was any gayer.
I meant to lie awake all night and daydream about Tweek's tongue, and the way his fingers fit so snugly between my own, while the sound of his giddy giggling was still fresh in my mind, but the alcohol buzzing through my veins had other plans.

I wake up hungover and vaguely disoriented, but that evaporates almost instantly as I remember last nights' events, and adrenaline floods every inch of my body.
I spring out of bed, getting dressed and ready in record time, unbelievably excited to see Tweek this morning.

"Hi," I say breathlessly. He quickly looks away from me.
"Hey," he greets meekly, then shuffles awkwardly past me to his locker. My heart sinks.
Shit... what if Tweek is just one of those people that likes to kiss when they're drunk..?
Last night flashes through my mind for the billionth time, only this time, from a very different perspective.
Oh. Fuck.
It meant nothing to him, and it was so fucking blatantly oblivious how in love with him I am.
Fuck FucK FUCKKK.
"C-coming?" He asks quietly, not looking at me. I grab my shit.
"Yeah," I say, as casually as possible, following after him to class, where I spend the next two periods in silent agony, completely second guessing all of my previous assumptions.

I shuffle out of class to the cafeteria in a daze. Only snapping back to reality when his voice shatters the void around me.
"Uh, Craig? C-can I talk to you?" He asks quietly. I feel my blood turn cold. This is it. This is where he tells me he doesn't like me like that.
"Sure," I say, standing to follow him away from our group, getting myself as mentally prepared as I can before he rips out my heart.
He leads us to the lunch line, grabbing a candybar. I follow suit, grabbing a bag of chips. We stand silently in line, awkwardly fidgeting with our respective purchases.
"Do you, uh, wanna hang out.. today?" He ventures uncertainly. I blank, briefly confused, I was convinced he was about to tell me off...
...maybe he wants to do it later, in private...
"W-we could play uhm, t-this new game..." he adds awkwardly, when I don't respond in the normally allotted amount of time.
"Yeah, sure," I say finally, slightly dazed.
This is a good sign, right? ...maybe he doesn't remember last night? I guess I just don't bring it up then... FUCK.
I wonder if I can somehow initiate that 'talking it through' thing his therapist told him to do...
I fuckin sure hope I can, this is fucking killing me.

I meet him at our adjacent lockers after school, my heart beating erratically somewhere in the cold recesses of my bowels.
You can bet your ass I spent all afternoon imagining creative ways in which Tweek would rip out my heart after school, from wherever it's buried itself in my body.
At least it's Friday, so I'll have the weekend to pick up the shattered pieces of myself before I have to face him at school next week.
We walk to his house in strained silence, a stark dissemblance from the walk to his house last night.
My ears ring with the deafening silence of his absent giggles, fingers itching to knot with his in the same snug way they clung last night.

"Parents working?" I ask casually, but it comes out more stiff and awkward than intended as we flip off our wet footwear.
"Yea," he confirms, leading the way up the stairs to his room.
"W-what do you wanna do?" He asks uncertainly.
I wanna kiss you. I wanna hold you close and I wanna kiss the shit out of you.
I shrug.
"Didn't you say something about a new game..?" I venture, too chicken shit to try and start the conversation about last night. His cheeks flush.
"Uhhm, y-yeah we can do that.." he says, letting out a self-conscious laugh. I nod, busying myself with grabbing a controller from his top dresser drawer and settling into my preferred spot, on the end of his bed leaning against the wall.
"...uhm, it's actually not a video game..." he says, fidgeting awkwardly.
Oh.
"What kind of game is it?" I ask, genuinely confused.
"It's like, a ...quiz game? It's.. one of those trending YouTube challenges." Tweek says, laughing awkwardly. I can't help the smirk that stretches at my lips.
"You wanna do a YouTube challenge?" I ask amusedly.
"Shut up. You should be honoured I wanna do the best friend challenge with you," He says, puffing out his chest in mock egotism. I snicker, but my heart thumps painfully, half in hope, but half in disappointment.
Best friend challenge? So that means he still wants me to be his best friend, even though he doesn't like me back...
Well, at least he doesn't want me out of his life, right?
This is a good thing, I tell myself.
But it feels empty.
"So what's this challenge?" I ask, keeping up my amused facade.
"Uh, it's like a quiz? Sort of? Like, you take turns asking each other questions, and whoever gets the most right wins the best friend challenge." Tweek explains, sitting down cross-legged on his floor and shifting in place till he's comfortable. I follow suit, settling in front of him on the carpet.
"What do you win?" I ask. He half-smirks mischievously at me.
"Whoever wins gets to order the other person to do anything they want." He tells me.
Suddenly, my polite interest turns into a raging competitive fire that burns NSFW activities into the back of my eyelids.
"Okay... just any questions?" I ask, my impatience to win kicking in.
"No, obviously they have to be questions about you that only a best friend would know," he chuckles as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Makes sense.
"Okay, smarty pants, you go first." I smirk.
"Okay, I'll start it out easy. What's my favourite colour?" He asks, an excited sparkle glinting in his eyes.
"Green." I reply confidently. He smiles.
"Correct. Your turn."
"Okay, uhhh... what's my favourite colour?" I ask, lamely repeating his own question after drawing a blank. He smirks.
"Orange." He says simply. I can't help my grin.
This is actually kinda fun.
"Ok, so what's my favourite food?" Tweek asks next.
"Like... meal? Or any food?" I clarify. He taps his chin in contemplation.
"Hmm... I'll take any as long as it's correct." He says.
"Mashed potatoes." I state.
"I knew you were gonna say that," He laughs.
"Well it's not my fault you're obsessed with them," I grin at him. He laughs again.
"Ok, your turn."
"Same question." I say. He playfully rolls his eyes at me, but I can tell he likes answering the same questions about me.
"Unreasonably cheesy spaghetti." He smirks. I put my hands up in defence.
"Cheese is fuckin amazing, okay? Don't be dissing the cheese." I protest. He snorts.
"Yah, it's good, but what you do to spaghetti is on a whole 'nother level." He teases.
"Pfffffffft, everything I do is on a whole 'nother level." I boast. We laugh.
"See? This is pretty fun, right?" He asks enthusiastically. I grin.
"Yeah, it is," I admit. Tweek flashes me a mischievous grin.
"How about we crank it up a level then?" He challenges.
"Bring it." I fire back. He chuckles, a condescending note in it, as if he's already sure he's gonna win. My competitive fire flares in defiance.
Yeah right.
As if I'm gonna let him.
"If I could have any superpower, what would it be?" Tweek says, smirking at me. I pause, thinking.
"Something to do with lightning?" I venture uncertainly. His face visibly falls, but his cheeks flush slightly. I smirk. He thought he got me, but now I have him. I don't want any super powers.
"What would mine be?" I ask smugly. He scoffs.
"I don't know, something dumb. Like guinea pig god or turbo charged middle finger." He mocks. I blink in surprise.
Damn.
I didn't even know how bad I wanted a turbo charged middle finger till just now.
"You're... not wrong," I admit in slight awe. Tweek smiles triumphantly.
Just how well does this kid know me..?

After a few more rounds Tweek is visibly flustered, but I can't tell if he's mad that I'm getting all of these right, or flattered that I know him better than he thought.
"So what time was I born then??" He half yells.
Ah shit.
He might have just won. There's no way I know this one...
"2?" I guess lamely.
"2 what?" He demands.
"2... pm?" I specify. He grins.
"Hah. Not even close. 3:34am." He states.
"How is that even fair? There's no way I'd know that! I don't even know what time I was born!" I complain. He waves me off.
"We can play again, but first you have to do whatever I tell you." He says, a hint of nervousness staining his smug tone. I sigh.
"Fine. What." I ask, already plotting questions there's no way he'd know the answer to.
"Kissme." He blurts.
"..WHah??"
Did I hear him right??
He exhales, fidgeting nervously and not meeting my eyes.
"Kiss. Me." He enunciates, staring fixedly at the wall off to the side, his cheeks flaring hotter and hotter each passing moment I stare at him in shellshocked disbelief.

[A/N: who caught the suuuuuper subtle crenny hint? 😜
Also, so so so so sorry  for not updating for so long. 😭
Been going through it pretty hard this past half year 😪
Only a couple chapters left in this fic... unless someone comments a prompt I vibe with 😁]