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Craig’s lounging in the empty bleachers, waiting for Tweek to be done with his music class like he always does on Tuesday. The sports field is empty, bar a few scattered patches of old snow, and Stan is climbing up the stands, moving in Craig’s general direction. There’s no reason for Stan to be here, other than to see Craig—everyone knows this is Craig’s hideout when he finishes class before Tweek does.
“Hey,” Stan greets him when he finally gets to Craig’s row; his cheeks are flushed, and it looks like he’s trying to drown in his scarf.
Craig nods at him in greeting, and Stan sits down, leaving an empty seat between them. He kicks the snow off his boots and props his legs up on the back of the chair in front of him, then huddles a little deeper into his coat—the freezing air shows his breath in little white clouds.
He stares at the field spreading out below them and jams his hands, covered in gloves, into his pockets. Craig is about to go find his earbuds when Stan takes a deep breath and turns to look at him.
“Can I talk to you?” he asks.
“To me, yes,” Craig shrugs. “However, I can’t promise I’ll reply. You know how I feel about you guys.” He hasn’t forgotten the invasion of house-size guinea pigs that almost obliterated the world. And yet—his interest is piqued. There’s something odd in Stan’s voice, a tone he’s not used to hearing from him.
The corner of Stan’s mouth twitches; it’s almost a smile. “I just—I don’t know, man.” He sighs again, and Craig raises his eyebrow. “I was wondering, when did you know you’re… you know.” He makes some vague air gestures and Craig feels something like sympathy in his gut when he realizes he knows where this question is most likely going. That doesn’t mean he’s going to make this easy on Stan, so he waits—Marsh is bound to start feeling uncomfortable soon.
Stan doesn’t last a minute. “What I mean is—how did you realize you’re into, well. Guys.”
“You can use the word gay, you know,” Craig smirks. He thinks he knows why Stan’s asking—he’s noticed Stan staring at Kyle for long, long minutes during classes—but Tweek has taught him to not make assumptions about other people. He won’t know if it’s true until Stan explicitly tells him it is. “I wanted to kiss boys,” he says. “Mostly Tweek, though.”
It’s close enough to the truth. Craig once believed he was straight like he supposes all young boys do. He just thought he was a straight boy that wanted to kiss other boys, so saying he was gay to get the Asian girls to stop didn’t even register as an issue at the time. Then, when the town responded favorably to him and Tweek fake-dating, it became a lot easier to accept his feelings for what they really were—and from there it didn’t take long before Craig kissed Tweek because he liked Tweek, not because it was now expected of him. Tweek, as it turned out, felt much the same way. Feels the same way, even eight years on.
“Oh,” Stan mutters. He’s staring down at his hands, nervously picking at his cuticles.
Craig watches Stan’s nervous mannerisms—they’re different from Tweek’s but a clear indication of his current stress level. “Why are you asking me this anyway? Do you want to kiss a boy, Marsh?”
Stan is blushing now, his cheeks redder than the cold could make them. “I think I—yes.”
“Well, that’s too bad because I’m not single,” Craig jokes. “You’re cute, though.”
Stan snorts and shakes his head. “I don’t want to kiss you. I want to… someone else.”
Craig hums. He wants to ask Stan if it’s Kyle—the only surprise there would be that they’re eighteen and he always figured that if they were so inclined, it would have happened by now.
“Why don’t you talk to Kyle about this?” he suggests instead. “Since you and Bro-lofski are such good friends.”
“Well, because you’re gay and Kyle’s not so it made sense, and—” Stan hesitates. “Um.”
“And?” Craig twists so he’s facing Stan. “Just spit it out, Marsh.”
“And it’s about him, I guess,” Stan mutters quietly. He’s staring at the sports field—his eyes are wide open and his cheeks bright red, and Craig knows this is the first time Stan’s told anybody. Craig’s a gay guru now, that’s pretty cool. Maybe he can ask KFC for this, as payment.
“Okay,” Craig nods. “So, you want to kiss Kyle Broflovski. Big fucking deal, no one saw it coming, etcetera—but more importantly, what are you going to do about that?”
“What do you mean, no one saw it coming?” Stan hisses. “I didn’t see it, how was anybody else going to?”
“Dude,” Craig rolls his eyes because of course, his sarcasm is the only thing the guy picked up on. “The only surprise to me here is that you didn’t figure out you have a giant boner for your super best friend when you had your first wet dream.”
Stan presses his mouth closed, looking like he’s about to throw a tantrum but doesn’t want to. It’s kind of adorable—maybe if Tweek and Kyle hadn’t been in their lives, Craig could have had a crush on Stan.
Actually—screw that. Stan would still have found a way to be the protagonist of his dumb-ass adventures without the rest of his gang. And besides, Craig could never fall in love with someone this fucking dense, even if this chat is a better waste of time than just sitting here.
“So. What are you going to do about it? I think you should kiss him.” Craig’s pretty sure Kyle would kiss back.
Stan shakes his head. “I can’t do that, that’s just—no.”
Craig nods. He takes a moment to imagine it’s Tweek opposite of him, to think about what he’d tell him. “How are you feeling about this anyway?”
“It’s scary!” Craig can see Stan’s hand shake as he pinches the bridge of his nose. “Like, this time last year? I was still with Wendy and I knew it wasn’t ever going to last but—man. This is—this is something else.”
“A whole different ball game?” Craig smirks as he suggests it.
“Oh, shut the fuck up, that’s not even funny,” Stan says but there’s no heat behind it. He’s still looking shaken, but Craig thinks he’s at least started to breathe normally again, which is a win. “I don’t even know if I like girls or boys, I just—I guess I wanted her to be Kyle.”
Craig nods. “Well,” he starts, shoving his hands into his pockets. “For what it’s worth, I think most people kind of assume you and Kyle are it for each other, you know? Maybe not in the butt-sex kind of way like I now know you do, but definitely in the always staying best friends kind of way.”
Stan nods.
“And,” Craig continues, “that is why I think that even if Kyle’s not gay-into you, he’s not going to push you away.”
“How do I—I don’t know. How did you get Tweek to kiss you?” Stan asks.
“Well, we were ten and boyfriends, so I just asked him,” he shrugs. “It wasn’t a big deal, but we knew of each other that we’re gay.” He still remembers feeling like his nerves would kill him right before he asked Tweek—and then all his worries fading as Tweek said yes. “I guess you could—touch Kyle.” Stan looks at him like he’s gone crazy. “Not sexual!” Craig corrects himself. “Like, the way you used to with Wendy? Just to gauge his response to you, put your hand on his back when you enter the classroom or whatever. I know you’re suave enough to do that.”
“I don’t know,” Stan sighs. He rests his head in his hands, looking pretty put-out. Craig doesn’t blame him—he supposes it’s a pretty big thing to come out and get advice like this. He can see Tweek wander onto the sports pitch, looking a little forlorn, which means this conversation is over.
“I don’t either,” Craig says. “But it’s just Kyle, Marsh. Good luck, I need to go hang out with my boyfriend. And for the record—I do think you stand a chance.”
Then he gathers all his things and slings on his backpack, stepping over Stan’s legs and walking down the stairs to greet Tweek with a kiss.