AN: The idea for this was sparked by DelaneyBloom who commented pointing out Hamilton references so much that I have decided that I will write an entire story filled with as many Hamilton references as I can muster.
With that said, Enjoy.
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Craig's POV
I walk into my house. Immediately hearing it. The banging of the bed against the wall. I don't bother going upstairs. I put my bag down and walk back out. I wish dad were still here, maybe mom wouldn't be such a... I bump into some kid. Looking up and seeing Marsh.
"How's the son of the town whore?" Stan asks
"Fuck you" I answer
"She's probably getting pounded as we speak." He states
"Why are you going that way? You gonna fuck her next?" I ask
"So I'm right?" Stan asks
I look down and put my hands in my pockets.
He sighs "Wanna come hang out with me for a bit then?"
My head snaps up toward him "What? Why are you being nice?"
"Can I do something nice for you?" Stan asks
"Okay, lets go." I answer, he waves for me to follow him.
"Wait. I have to get something from home real quick" I turn back toward my house and run back into it. The pounding against the wall only getting worse. I get halfway upstairs and it gets worse, I hear the squeaking. When I get all the way up the stairs the slapping sound gets into my ear. I'm quick to get into my room and grab my satchel bag that I carry around with me when I'm out. I don't know how I forgot it before. I run out of my room and I jump most of the way down the stairs. Stan is outside waiting on my porch, he must've heard the banging when the door opened because I see him tense up.
"Jesus Christ. How long has that been happening?" Stan asks
"A month or so... after my dad died." I answer
"Oh dude... you should've told me... I would've provided company for you..." Stan says
I roll my eyes "You we're picking on me five seconds ago."
"Harmless teasing" He responds, waving for me to follow as he begins walking, I do.
"Where are you taking me?" I ask
"I'm about to change your life" He answers
"Well then, by all means, lead the way." I follow slightly behind the other, looking around as I soon find us surrounded by trees, when I look forward I see a creek. I walk up to it and see the clear water running down the stream, splitting over rocks that sick up above the water.
"It's beautiful." I sit on a rock and examine the creek, I get out my journal. It's about half full. I open it and begin writing. A shadow goes over me and I look up to see Stan leaning over to read what I'm writing. I shut the journal.
"What?" I ask
"What are you writing?" Stan asks
"Nothing." I answer, turning away from him, covering myself as I continue writing. He rolls his eyes and takes the journal. Reading through it.
"Give it back!" I exclaim, I get up to get it but apparently he's a master of keeping shit away from people. I eventually give up, realizing I'm not gonna get it back, he flips through the pages.
"Why do you care?" I ask
"I want to be part of your narrative." Stan states
"No you don't." I sigh and glare at him, he tears his eyes from the page to look at me, without breaking eye contact he shuts the journal and hands it to me.
"Don't tell me what I want, Tucker."
I take the journal and open it back up, continuing to write.
"How often do you write?" Stan asks
"It passes time." I answer
"That's not what I asked" Stan crosses his arms
I don't answer, I keep writing. I don't have a concept of time, there's no way for me to answer that question accurately.
"Craig." He says sternly.
I roll my eyes and look up at him "Yes?"
"Talk to me..." He crouches next to me, taking my hand, I look at our hands, my hand atop his.
"What is there to talk about?" I ask
"If I can't be apart of the narrative, I'll be the narrative" Stan states
"Who said I'd be willing to do that?" I ask
"I said I'd change your life didn't I?" Stan asks
"Yes. I recall. That's not what I thought you meant by that." I state
"What did you think I meant?" Stan asks
I think for a few moments, longer than I should for answering such a dumb question. "I thought you meant providing me a place to go when mom is..." I pause, then continue "I didn't expect to get a journal in the form of a human" I finish
"It's my way of saying I want to know you a bit better" Stan admits "I want to be in the room where it happens."
"Why?" I tilt my head to the side
"Because you seem interesting. You're a mystery person. Nobody knows that much about you. They only know you're the son of the town whore." Stan shrugs "That and... you're cute." He looks down, as to hide his face from the rejection he might receive.
I smirk slightly, though my eyes look slightly concerned. I'm feeling a lot of different things.
"You're kinda cute too." I say after a bit of silence, that was probably uncomfortably long for him, scarily long, as soon as I finish my statement his head snaps up to me, he notices my face, and he spends a little bit just looking, I'd assume trying to read my expression, which harbors multiple different emotions.
He squints a bit "What are you feeling?" So I was right.
"Many things. I'm concerned, cocky, and nervous. All at once" I answer
"Why did you answer?" He asks
"Was I not supposed to?" I ask
"You were. I just... didn't expect you to answer." He's a bit quick to respond
"Well... you're my journal... aren't you?" I answer
"That, I am." His rather perplexed expression turns into the slightest smile. Upon first glance it's not noticeable, but I've got a good look at the boy, I mean. He's crouched in front of me.
"If you're gonna be my journal. I'm setting a few rules." I state
"Go ahead"
"Talk less. Smile more." I nod
"Why?" Of course he'd ask.
"My journal doesn't talk." My eyes narrow a bit, and my smirk grows "And your smile is nice." His smile grows.
"So. Im apart of the narrative?" He asks
"You are my narrative" I answer
"I'm the journal of it." He corrects
"You contain my story..." I start "Therefore... you are the narrative, as long as you... uh... tell the story" I look down. I feel one of his hands slip from mine, the cool air now being able to hit it, it's much colder, though I don't mind. His hand moves to my chin, pushing my head up till our eyes meet. His eyes soften as a smile creeps onto his face. I follow suit. I see him lean and my heart begins hammering against my chest. His head tilts before our noses touch and he stops when our lips are just brushing together. He's waiting. He's waiting for me to initiate it. Just encase I don't want to, because it's pretty obvious that he wants to. My lips purse and suddenly, we're kissing. I'm quick to pull back. Sitting up straight, tensed. That was my first kiss. It was slow and... it had this... feeling in it... a feeling that pinched my heart, but... in a good way.
"How you feeling?" He asks, noticing the obvious confusion in my expression. I look at him and my eyes soften, a wide smile coming to my face.
"Helpless." I answer "in a good way" I add after a few seconds, realizing that could've been taken the wrong way.
"Come with me." He softly demands, I get up and put my journal and pencil in the satchel bag. Then follow him. This time we walk hand in hand. I get to his house. I blush as he leads me up to his room, more specifically his bed. This soon? I bite my lip as I watch him go over and shut the door. Then his jacket comes off. Then his shirt. Woah. Look at that defined body. He walks over and gets me on the bed vertically, straddling me.
Oh Lord, Tell me how to say no to this.
He unbuttons my jacket and gets it off me, with my help of course. We get my shirt off and I feel myself grow a bit further below.
I can't say no to this.
~Time Skip~
The next day I wake up in Stan's bed. Memories of last night flood through my head. I blush deeply and look over at Stan. Who's still sleeping, despite the fact that it's his alarm that's going off. I turn it off and look over at Stan, shaking him a bit. It's proven useless. I get out of bed, getting my journal, my other one is asleep. I begin writing.
"Tucker come back to sleep..." Stan groans out, just loud enough to make it audible to me.
"I just have to write something down.." I respond, thinking for a moment "We have school today. You have to get up." I add
"No." He states
"Please get up." I beg slightly, he gets out of bed, then stretches, walking over to me and hugging me.
"How do you feel?" He asks
I chuckle a bit "Satisfied."
He laughs "Good."
He gets changed and gives me one of his shirts, which I wear with yesterday's dirty clothes, I leave my shirt on his desk chair and we walk to school together, stopping at my house to get my bag.
Upon getting to school I let go of his hand and my expression goes dead as I enter autopilot, I go to my locker and get my things, once I pull my things out my locker slams shut and I look over at the kid in the orange parka.
"You Craig Tucker?" He asks
"That depends, who's asking?" I answer
"Names McCormick, Kenny. McCormick" He holds his hand out for me to shake it. I don't. "I'm here because I saw you and Marsh last night." Kenny states
"About it?" I ask
"He's got a girlfriend." He answers
"And? I didn't do anything with him." I state
"I saw all of it." Kenny responds
"Perv." I roll my eyes and walk away, looking up to see Stan with Wendy. Class president. She grips him and pushes him to the locker, I walk over and look at the two.
"You can't leave me, Marsh. You're good for my reputation. I don't care how gay you are, I need the jock of the school, it makes me more popular, walking attached to your hip." She explains, I roll my eyes and put a hand on her shoulder, pushing her off him.
"Woah. Mystery boy... look at you..." she sounds like she's hitting on me. What a whore. I roll my eyes as her hands go to my chest "My boyfriend is a fag... you seem so much better...." she leans in to kiss me, I look away and push her back, walking to Stan and standing next to him, he holds his hand out for me and I don't hesitate to take it.
"Oh my god." Wendy rolls her eyes and walks away
"Thanks" He says, I nod. He cocks his head a bit, wondering why I'm not speaking. I'll tell him later, I have to keep my mysterious persona. We walk down the hall together.
He's my right hand man, and I'm his.
