The Evermore Dissociate(Creek)

0019

It took around thirty minutes for them to find their friends and drag them away from the party. It was three in the morning as the four of them stumbled down the icy road. Tweek being the most sober, had to balance Clyde and Token on either side of him, while Craig walked through his dizzy state in front of them.

Tweek insisted they all stay at his house tonight, since he didn't trust them to get home safely on their own, not that any of them had put up a fight. They all just wanted to go to sleep as soon as possible. Tweek leaned his friends against the wall whilst he pulled his keys out of his pocket, though Clyde didn't stay there and crashed into Craig, who somehow managed to steady him.

The key slid in, unlocking the door with a slight click, before Tweek opened it and turned back to his friends, blocking the doorway. "You all have to be quiet,okay? My parents are asleep." Each of them nodded the best they could, with Clyde making some weird groaning noise as he did so.

Tweek grabbed Token's wrist, guiding him into the house and up the stairs, shushing him every time his drunken friend would ask him something. So much for not being much of a drinker. They made it to the top of the stairs when the door slammed shut behind them, and Tweek's head quickly turned to scowl down at the two who innocently looked up at him, as though they hadn't done anything wrong.

Tweek huffed, tugging on Token's wrist as he took him into his bedroom, pushing him down on his bed, though not as carefully as he could have. Token rolled over to the end, his legs hanging off as Tweek rushed back out of the room as quietly as he could to retrieve the other two. When he got to the stairs, he had to pause for a second, seeing Craig and Clyde halfway up. Clyde still trying to crawl up, looking like Anakin in the scene from Star Wars when he was burned by lava. Craig had decided to stop a few steps up, and was just sitting there, cradling his head.

And so the chauffeur came to the rescue. He met Clyde the rest of the way, and took ahold of his arm to pretty much drag him up the rest of the steps, then returned shortly after to collect Craig. He left the three of them somewhat humanely placed on his bed as he left to grab some sleeping bags and pillows, but when he returned Clyde was on the floor, spread out like an octopus.

Tweek kicked him aside, making room for the sleeping bags to lay out, then kneeled down beside Clyde to pull his shoes off, wishing he was anywhere else when the smell of his feet connected with his nose. He dragged his friend to one of the sleeping bags and zipped him up inside without another thought. 

He repeated the process two more times, breathing heavily by the time he was done, then turned off the light and climbed into his bed. He stared up into the darkness of the room. The moonlight made it so he could see moderately, once his eyes had adjusted, and his gaze fixed on one of the posters on his wall, though he couldn't concentrate when it continuously swayed from one side of the room to the other. He was clearly, still a little wasted.

He didn't realise how easy it was to fall asleep with alcohol in his system. Static filled his ears, low and uneasy, blocking out the breathing coming from his friends on his bedroom floor. His mind soon drifted into the darkness, consumed by the tails of the night, with his breathing easing out as he slipped peacefully unconscious.

If only things were that simple for Craig. He laid motionless in his sleeping bag, his heart beating only slightly faster than usual as he stared up at the celling, mentally beating himself up. He wanted to shout, to stand outside and beat whatever it was out of him. To scream until his lungs bled and his throat dried out. His temples were throbbing, the dull, but painful pulse circulating in his head.

He couldn't stop thinking about the party, about the sickly feeling he'd had when he and Lola kissed. She was a pretty girl, she was nice and sort of interesting, so why the hell was his body acting this way. He was beyond frustrated. He sighed, turning over in his sleeping bag, with a hand resting on top of his pillow, under his head. His inner speech reiterated the same sentence,

Why is this happening to me.

He squeezed his eyes shut in attempt to clear his mind, but he couldn't, because whatever happened tonight, and the night before was only going to happen again, unless he did something about it. Sitting up, he looked around the room. Token was passed out snoring, while Clyde was muttering in his sleep, with a trail of silva drooling down his mouth. Then he looked to Tweek's bed, his  hand reaching out to touch the ends of the sheets that hung over the side.

He remembered the nights when they were only eleven, having sleepovers and watching movies in Tweek's bed, until they'd fall asleep beside each other.  He remember the warm feeling that stuck with him throughout the nights huddled with his best friend. He remembered the scent of tranquility and safeness, and how it felt to wake up in the morning, feeling the most rested he'd ever experienced.

He remember the night he cried in that bed, the night Stripe died, taken from him forever. He still vividly recalled Tweek wrapping him up like a tortilla wrap in his covers, holding him down whilst the blonde cradled his head and allowed him to cry. Allowed him to be so weak and vulnerable, yet when the sun rose the next day, Tweek still looked at him the same way.

He found himself missing it. Needing it, because he wasn't sure he'd make it through the night dealing with this on his own.  And in the one desirable moment, Craig kicked the sleeping back from himself to crawl up onto the double bed, with the cotton sheets warm against his finger tips.  He paused at the middle of the bed, sitting on his knees as he looked to Tweek sleeping. It was strange seeing him so relaxed, so at peace without a worry.

Craig peeled the covers back, trying his best to crawl in undetected. His legs were the first to meet the warmth inside, and once he laid there, beside Tweek on the opposite side, his eyes resting on the back of the messy blonde hair. Craig felt like a child once again.

Tweek woke up the next day in the afternoon with a foggy sigh. The sun was enchanting his room with warm rays of light that bounced off the walls, making him wonder how it hadn't woken him up sooner. He tiredly stretched with a groan, a yawn covered by the back of his hand. But something felt off, and as Tweek turned around and was met with disheveled black hair sprawled across his pillow, he froze. It seemed at some point in the night, drunken Craig had crawl into his bed, and was currently hogging most of his pillow.

That wasn't Tweek's main concern though, his mouth was dry as he watched his friend who's face was buried by the thick covers. All of those feelings he'd fought so hard to push away came rushing back again like a dam being broken, it's water flooding the area around it. His chest tightened at the thought of Craig wanting to near him, seeking out the comfort of his bed, and the sheets that smelt like him, but then again he'd most likely just wanted to get off the hard floor.

And even though Craig was clueless to the situation, having him this close was killing Tweek. Physically hurting him in a way he couldn't explain. So he did the only thing he could, quietly removing the covers from himself as he got out of bed, careful not to wake the others. His eyes lingered for a few more seconds as he stood by the door, and as he became aware of the headache forming vastly, he wondered if this is what it was like to love someone.