Work Text:
It’s 8:00 on a Saturday morning and Craig Tucker’s alarm is blaring. As per usual, an angry Thomas Tucker starts aggressively knocking on the locked bedroom door muttering profanity sleepily, the only thing that can truly awaken a boy in his early twenties who may as well be a boulder once his eyes shut.
Craig’s eyes finally open in a panic as he checks the time: 8:03 AM. He needs to leave for work at 9:00 for his 9:30 shift at the family owned and operated gas station to the right of the highway.
Once the pounding stops and he hears the creak of Thomas crawling back into bed, he gets up and stretches.
“Another day, another dollar, huh Stripe?” He looks over at his 3rd guinea pig. She’s a fluffy black guinea pig, no stripe to be seen, but all of his guinea pig’s have had the same name, and there’s no reason to change that just because she’s stripe-less. At least that’s what he thinks.
He picks her up out of the cage and gives her a kiss on the head before setting her right back down and feeding her breakfast. He checks the time: 8:15 AM.
The 21 year old trudges down the stairs in his plaid pajama’s and turns the coffee machine on. He doesn’t like coffee, but he knows his mother works at 10:00 on Saturdays and will appreciate it being ready to go. He yawns and walks over to the pantry, looking for his favorite cereal.
He sits down at the table and reads his daily news (AKA the app formerly known as twitter). Unfortunately, all there is on the timeline is commentary the controversial new Taylor Swift album. He sighs and locks his phone as he quickly finishes off his last few bites of cereal.
He passes his mother on his way back upstairs to shower and greets her with the classic Tucker family finger, she shakes her head at him and smiles to herself when she notices the Keurig is all warmed up and ready to brew.
Craig digs through the pile of laundry on the floor, looking for the only uniform shirt the gas station has provided. He can technically buy more, but refuses to spend a dime of his own money on a job that only pays a dollar over minimum wage.
He throws on the dirty uniform and moves to the bathroom to wash his face and brush his teeth. He sprays his shirt with Bounce rapid touch up and his armpits with Old Spice Fiji.
It’s another bad hair day, and his roots are growing in. Another day of work for both him and his trusty blue cello.
He trudges downstairs and throws on his non-slip shoes and cool ass NASA jacket. He waves goodbye to Laura as he grabs his keys and heads out the door and into his black chevy cobalt.
Immediately upon sitting down in the driver’s seat, the young man opens up Spotify and scrolls through his liked music. It’s a cold, dreary day. It’s overcast and the clouds are grey, signs of another spring rainfall that is yet to come. He settles on an album by Bright Eyes as opposed to a jumble of tunes. He buckles up, rolls down the front window and lights a Marlboro menthol just before pulling out of the long driveway, and running over the grass like he does everyday. His father used to yell at him but ultimately gave up,
Craig hums along to the chorus of the first track;
“While my mother waters plants, my father loads his gun
He says, "Death will give us back to God
Just like the setting sun
Is returned to the lonesome ocean"
He merges onto the interstate by the end of the song, and within minutes he’s once again parking at work, ready to really wake up to the taste of a stolen red bull.
He walks in through the back door, and once he’s punched in, Scott Tenorman can finally leave.
He doesn’t mind his job, he works alone most of the time and always has one AirPod in. The customers on day shift usually aren’t freaks, and don’t want to talk to him almost as much as he doesn’t want to talk to them… except for one regular customer: Kenny McCormick.
“Oh Craigypoooo~” he hears the obnoxious call as the door chimes open. “Guess who?”
The black-haired boy turns around, only to be greeted by a cheesy smile and the faint smell of weed. Upon hearing his voice, Craig instinctively reaches for two packs of grape White Owls.
“Long time no see!” Kenny says as he’s filling a cup for a 79 cent soda.
“It’s been one day.” Craig deadpans.
“One day too long! Since when are you off on Friday’s?” He sips on the soda while still next to the machine, like he always does, and tops the drink off before stepping up to the counter.
“My sister needed someone to take her to the dentist so I switched with Kelly for a Thursday shift instead.” he doesn’t know why he’s explaining himself to the other man, but something about the his warm demeanor makes him easy to talk to.
“How is she, by the way? Ever since Karen dropped out she slowly stopped coming by.”
“She’s okay, mostly just excited to graduate. She got a really big scholarship for the University of Boulder. She wants to be a nurse like mom.”
The two guys chatter for a little while until another customer walks in. Someone Craig had never seen before, which isn’t rare considering he works next to a highway. But was IS rare is the fact that he can’t stop staring at this man. He’s beautiful, but not in the same way Token and Kenny are beautiful. His hair is a mess, his eye bags are so purple it almost looks like he’s wearing yesterday’s make-up, and he’s shaking like a small dog. Craig starts to imagine the man smiling and sitting across from him at a fancy restaurant in a nice suit, taking him out on a dinner date.
“Um.. h-hello?!? Oh god, is there something on my face?? Is it sprinkles?? Oh my god that’s so embarrassing fuck I just had a donut in the car before walking in here oh god…” the unfamiliar face stammers as he picks the skin around his fingers.
Craig blushes and apologizes quickly, assuring that there are in fact zero sprinkles on his face and admits to zoning out as he rings him up for his extra large coffee. “$5.75 please.” He says as he struggles to make eye contact. Kenny is still hanging around, watching the awkward scene unfold.
Craig can’t help but read the name on the disheveled man’s credit card. Tweek Tweak.
“Huh.” He thinks to himself. “That name seems familiar…”
After Tweek leaves, Kenny immediately bolts right back over to the taller male. “So you like Tweek, huh?” He teases. Craig punches his arm. The blond yelps. “Hey!”
“Don’t you have some place to be? Like, work maybe?” Craig says, annoyed.
“Nope! Been cashing out those worker’s comp checks ever since I broke my leg at the construction site. I only have one working leg!” He winked. His leg has been healed for about two months now.
“Well, find somewhere else to go McCormick. The sign clearly says no loitering.” He points to an old sign posted next to the door. The paint’s chipped and you can barely read it, but it’s definitely there.
“Alright, alright. See you next time Craig!” Kenny laughs as he saunters out.
“Tweek Tweak, huh? I wonder where I’ve heard that name before…”
Craig’s shift goes by quickly, as he spends the day imaging himself in other scenarios with Tweek. He imagines what he’ll say the next time the anxious blond man works his way up to the counter. IF he decides to come back after the whole debacle. Whatever. It’s fine, Craig’s not upset about the thought of it. At least that’s what he tells himself.
When 6:30 rolls around, he grabs himself a new pack of cigarettes and heads out. He looks at the messages in his phone. The group chat had started blowing up, probably looking for some Saturday night plans. Clyde, Jason and Token are all home for summer break from college and looking for trouble.
He pulls into his driveway when his phone rings- it’s Kenny.
“Hello? Haven’t you seen enough of me today?” He mutters into the phone as Kenny laughs.
“Come to this party tonight, I’ll send you the address. Let your buddies know, too!”
“I don’t know Kenny, I-“
“Tweek will be there” the blond interrupts Craig before he can come up with some excuse not to go.
“We’ll see, Kenny.” He sighs into the phone and hangs up. Immediately receiving a text message from the boy.
Kenny: “260 Avenue de los Mexicanos. See you around 9:30! ;)”
Craig sighs and texts his best friends the address. The group chat ruptures in excitement that Craig actually found a party for them.
Craig: “I found the place, so I’m not driving. You guys can decide who DDs.”
Jason: “ill drive, im just gonna smoke tonight anyway”
And that’s how he found himself leaning against the wall at a party at Stan Marsh’s place. He doesn’t know why he came, he doesn’t like parties. He takes the last sip of his first cup of punch and decides he probably needs a shot of tequila… or 5.
He makes his way into the kitchen when he once again see’s the disheveled man. Most of his long, blond hair is pulled back into a pony tail and he’s wearing a green flannel with some local band’s T-Shirt underneath. Tweek’s pouring himself a shot and Craig decides to make a move.
“Can you pour me one too? I’m not drunk enough for a party like this.” He asks calmly, but he’s feeling a little nervous for some reason. This is a new feeling for Craig Tucker as he usually is one to not “give a fuck”, in his own words.
“Oh- um.. sure. Yeah. No problem. W-wait? Are you the guy from the gas station today?? Oh my god I’m so sorry I was such a mess this morning- my coffee pot broke and I was running late for band practice and i HATE being late it always makes me so anxious which is why I’m usually super early for things which is fine because then I can sit in my car and really think about what I’m about to get myself into and- oh my god I’m just fucking talking at you I’m so sorry.” The blond rambles while pouring the shot and all Craig can do is look at him in awe.
He’s not really making eye contact, and just looking at the ground as he’s talking. It gives Craig the chance to really take him in, he can’t exactly tell what color his eyes are because the lights at the party are a deep shade of pink, but he can tell that they’re beautiful. The blond has a birthmark right on his cheek that looks perfectly kissable, and he has one earring in his left ear. Craig wonders if that’s the “gay ear”!and then wonders if the “gay ear” is an outdated term.
“It’s okay. I don’t mind. I like when people talk at me. I’m Craig.” He sticks his hand out for a shake.
“Tweek.” The blond states and hands Craig the shot.
“You wanna hang out tonight?” Craig asks.
“Um… sure” Tweek smiles. And Craig’s heart flutters.
They both take two shots and stumble back into the party. Tweek tells Craig he can tell the DJ’s gay because of the amount of Charli XCX that’s been playing tonight, and Craig laughs a little louder than usual. They dance a little bit and head back into the kitchen for more shots. Craig is never this fun, and he doesn’t know what it is about Tweek that draws this side out of him. He doesn’t know what it is about Tweek that just draws him in, in general.
“You’re a good dancer Craig.” Tweek drunkenly giggles. “I wasn’t expecting that out of you after what I heard from Kenny.”
“Oh yeah?” Craig snorts. “What did he say?”
“That you’re kind of a pissy guy.” Tweek laughs. The usual aura of anxiety is no where to be seen, and maybe that’s what alcohol does to a person.
“I CAN be” he states. “But something about you makes me want to have fun.” This is something Craig would never say sober, but he’s 5 shots deep at midnight.
Tweek blushes a bit after hearing those words leave Craig’s mouth, but it’s hard to tell because his face is already flushed from the amount of alcohol in his system.
“Wanna go to the lake?” Craig asks and extends his arm for the other man to hold onto. Whenever Craig is drinking, he always wants to sit by the lake and admire it’s beauty.
“Sure!” Tweek exclaims and grabs on. The two have been flirting all night, and Kenny had spotted them earlier in the night. Kenny knew them both well enough to know they were perfect for each other and smiled as he saw them walk out the door together.
CRAIG: “gouingh 2 lajke c u fucks laterr”