Craig's POV
Great. Another fucking existential crisis. Just what I need. I lay in bed, my arms and legs flayed out, but it doesn't matter. None of this matters, in the end we're all just gonna die anyway, What's the point of living when the only thing we do is destroy the ozone layer and destroy the earth. We stop other things from living so we can live. How fucking selfish of our whole species.
"Craig..?"
What's the point when we're just here to leave our carbon footprint, then leave. We're here just to destroy earth.
"Craig."
What's the point of being in love? What's the point of doing anything?
"Craiggggg"
What's the point of having a good time when death is coming. It's gonna happen. It is... we just have to wait for it... we're just waiting for it. Somebody sits next to me and reaches up, taking my hand. I recognize that hand... Stan.
"Craig..? Is everything okay?" Stan asks, concerned
"What's the point of anything?" I ask
"Oh Jesus Christ, Craig." I fucking feel his eye roll
"Well I'm sorry that we're all destroying the fucking world and we have no meaning!" I exclaim
"We don't need meaning." Stan states, keeping a calm tone
"Well- But.... If we don't have meaning then... why are we here?" I ask
"Because your dad fucked your mom." Stan states
"Fuck off." I state
"I'm just saying! We're the result of two animals breeding. That's it! You don't have to look for a meaning because there is none." Stan states
He didn't even fucking try to sugar coat it! That's was blunt! He didn't try to make me feel better with a 'live your one life to the fullest and make the most of what you're given' he just said the truth!! God I love him.
I can't help but chuckle "You're right."
"Of course I'm right." He responds, I roll my eyes and sit up, meeting his gaze. He keeps a grip on my hand, so I squeeze it a bit.
"Don't get cocky." I state
"Ooo cock." Stan jokes, which causes me to laugh.
"You gay piece of shit." I laugh
"You're gay." He states
"I am not." I glare at him, with a small smirk
"Craig, You've literally kissed me." Stan states "Speaking of kisses, where's my hello kiss?" He asks
"You wanna find it?" I ask
Stan leans closer to me and puts our foreheads together. "Is it not gonna be given to me? Do I have to take it?" He asks
"Do you wanna take it?" I ask
"Give it to me." Stan demands
I roll my eyes "Make me."
He shakes his head and peck my lip, I don't return it. He kisses me again, longer, I still don't return it. He pulls back and pouts
"Kiss me back!" Stan complains.
"Make. Me." I smirk
"I can't! C'mon Craig please?" Stan begs
I sigh and kiss him. It lasts for about fifteen seconds before he pulls away and gives me a few more pecks.
"You happy now?" I ask
"Very" He answers
I lay back down and put my arms behind my head, Stan sighs and his hand goes to my chest, rubbing it slightly.
"Are you wanting to have sex or something?" I ask
"What? No! Why would you ask that?" Stan exclaims
"Because you're so touchy feely right now" I respond
"No Craig, I don't want to have sex" Stan sighs
"You don't, hmm?" I ask
"Not now, right now I wanna talk." Stan gets on top of me and rests his head on my chest.
"About?" I ask
"Your problems"
"What problems?"
"You seem upset."
"Aren't I always?"
"What's on your mind?"
"I don't have any talent." I state
"What? Yes you do. You're an amazing photographer"
"That's not talent... that's just being good at something. I want to draw, I want to sculpt, I want to play instruments, I want to do something!"
"Didn't you play violin?"
"Yeah but... I was bad... so I gave up."
"See? That's the problem. You keep giving up. Everyone is bad at first, you just have to persist. Craig I'll help you, I can teach you how to play guitar."
I sigh "I love you, you're so good to me." I close my eyes and smile, relaxing.
"I love you too"
I take a deep breath, my eyes flutter shut and I put the covers over us, I hear Stan's yawn, which makes me smile as I move one of my arms from behind my head, placing it on his back, between his shoulder blades and I rub it with my thumb.
"You're comfy..." Stan states
"Shh, Just sleep" I continue rubbing his back, he yawns again and shifts on me, getting a bit more comfortable.
"Goodnight" Stan says
"It's noon." I state "We're just napping"
"Mmm shut up" he responds
~Time Skip~
My eyes open and I look down at my sleeping boyfriend. I take off his hat to play with his hair.
"You have an untalented boyfriend." I state "Your boyfriend sits around and writes all day." I add
"Writing takes talent." Stan groans and hugs me tighter
"No it doesn't." I respond
"I've read some of the shit you've written. You've sent me paragraphs an paragraphs about us, about how much you love me." Stan explains "You're the best writer I know"
"If you only knew." I state
"What?" He asks
"Get your fatass off me." I state, he rolls his eyes but does as he's told, I sit up with him.
"I'm not fat" he says
"I know, you aren't, you're a skinny guy, you're just muscular" I walk over and put a hand on his upper arm, feeling his muscles. "My big, strong, muscular, man." I add, I see his face darken, he puts his arm around me.
"Oh wait, I have to show you." I stand up and get a box, sitting back next to Stan and putting the box on my lap.
"What's in there?" Stan asks
"Journals. I wrote a few... fiction stories" I sigh
"Space shit?" Stan asks
"Of course" I put it on the floor and open it "I have nothing to do with my days, so I write." I add
Stan takes a notebook and open it, reading though a few pages.
"Can I have these?" Stan asks
"What?! Why?" I exclaim
"I want to read them..." Stan states
"You can have the ones that I finished..." I put the box on the bed and pick them up, giving him the finished ones, a few series's that I'm writing the third or forth parts on.
"See? Look at these! You have so much talent babe." Stan smiles "Look at these words... wait a minute... are we the characters?" He laughs
I blush deeply "What makes you ask?"
Stan clears his throat "Travis could feel Noah's protective arms around him, as the space beasts surrounded them, closing in around the two. Noah looked Travis in the eye, seeing the fear behind the smaller boys eye 'If we shall die here, I want you to know I love you' Noah reminds the boy, Travis got the urge to push his lips to Noah's. Though their helmets prevented that 'I love you too' Travis responded, he knew he was going to die, he knew this would be the last time he'd ever get to feel Noah's arms around him. The space beasts close in on the two, and they're pulled apart by force" Stan reads
My face heats up "N-No it's... about Noah and Travis..." I answer
"We're you thinking about us while writing it?" Stan asks
"Look, sometimes you aren't here, and sometimes your boyfriend wants some love..." I answer
"Is that the long way of saying yes?" Stan asks
"It is." I answer "Fuck you. Why did I let you read these?" I question myself.
"They're mine now." Stan pauses for a moment "I don't care if you were thinking about us. I just like your writing. You're talented." He adds
"Writing isn't talent"
"It is. Not everyone can write."
"If I agree will you be happy?"
"Yes."
"Fine. I can write. That's. It."
I put the unfinished stories back in the box and put the box back in my closet. Stan puts the journals on the floor and walks over to me, Putting his hands on my hips.
"You're the most talented boy I know."
