[FANFIC] Paint - Craig/Tweek
Title: Paint
Author: ienvy
Fandom: South Park
Pairing: Craig/Tweek
Rating: PG
Summary: #63 Masterpiece The Table
Warnings: IT'S FLUFFY! - Because I already write enough macabre stuff as it is. ;]
Notes: Written for chloegdgc
---
Art class is, undeniably, near the top of his list of 'the most stressful things in the entire world'. Not to say that Tweek is not good at art. In fact, he is rather good at it. Most of the time. When Craig Tucker is absent. Which, really, is most of the time. So, most of the time... Tweek is good at art.
For the days that Craig is present and sitting right next to him, Tweek is more jittery than usual. His paint goes swerving off into incorrect corners of the canvas, his hand shakes with concentration as he struggles to grip the brush with the upmost of care. And then one glance, one single, burning glance, from Craig is all it takes to send him back into that flustering, panicking state of mind and being. As if that isn't enough for Tweek to worry about, lately he swears that Craig is catching onto his feelings. And it really, really stresses him out to even think those things because that means that one day, Craig will confront him and Tweek Tweak hates confrontation and if Craig confronts him, people are going to think there's going to be another fight and if they thinks there's going to be one, they're going to push them into it and Tweek really doesn't want to have to hurt Craig.
Besides, times are different now. The medication that Tweek is taking results, oftentimes, in extreme weight loss and not to mention stinted growth (the coffee really doesn't help this, either). The overall image is a quivering, nervous boy that looked abnormally skinny for his age, not to mention short, with dark circles beneath his eyes and a pale complexion that gives one the impression that he is very ill or stricken by some incurable disease. In short, it is not a very admirable quality for fighting. In harsh comparison, Craig's body is borderline perfect for getting into fights and winning them. He is not big, but not small either, remaining stubbornly somewhere in the middle. His muscles have undeniable definition (but only when he's wearing a t-shirt, tighter clothing or getting undressed in the locker room) and Tweek is sure that if Craig has them, then he knows how to use them. The advantage Craig has is harsh in comparison to their younger years, when both were nearly equals. Now, if they got into a real fight, Tweek is sure that Craig would really, really kill him.
Craig Tucker is staring at him again.
The sort of staring that beckons Tweek from his work and pulls his attention to the side that Craig sits on, even though he tells himself to hold still, to ignore the ever steady glare that Craig manages to send him. It calls to him and he must look and as soon as he does, he looks away again very quickly, cheeks red, eyes searching for something on his canvas to concentrate on. Even once he turns his gaze to his work, he cannot seem to keep it there. Unsteady tremors of his hand send his brush every which way and he squeaks at every mistake, eyes growing wide as he begins to panic.
Craig reaches over and touches his shoulder slowly.
Tweek jumps and nearly sends his canvas and paints flying, his voice a high pitched yelp in the quiet of the art room.
Everyone stops to stare and the teacher is rushing over, angry scowl on her face as she begins to reprimand the boys. Tweek is flushing and flailing as he tries to recover his artwork, even though he knows it's spoiled now, and he looks up at her with tears coloring the corners of his eyes. The teacher continues to jabber and tell them what a bad idea it is to be goofing around when they are supposed to be working and Tweek is apologizing over and over again and she's telling him he'll have to come in for extra time to redo his project and he's still flailing and then Craig flips her off and sends her on an entire new rant, seemingly directed only at Craig and how she is and has been fed up with his antics since before she met him and her insults are met by a second middle finger and she shrieks and everyone's watching them and Tweek can feel his heart racing and...
In the end, both he and Craig are sitting in the art room after school. Tweek is there because he's supposed to be working on his art project and trying to save a portion of it. Craig is there because she demanded he wait until Tweek finished, since it was his fault and he deserved a punishment. Really, it made no sort of sense to either of the boys, but they had not bothered to argue with her when she had said it earlier that day.
So now, they sit together in the art room, Craig's expression displaying only boredom as he watches Tweek work.
And Tweek finds that, of course, he can't work with Craig watching him like that.
Because Craig is definitely not watching the strokes of his paint brush.
Craig is watching him.
"U-Uh, Craig?" Tweek murmurs while setting down his brush. "I... I really can't work like this... it's... uh, oh, I mean... it's not really your fault... but... it's hard to work while you're... you know, staring."
Craig drags his eyes up slowly across Tweek, staring into his eyes for a moment before blinking very slowly and Tweek realizes that he doesn't intend to say a damn thing.
"... Okay..." He squeaks, face going hot again as he focuses his attention back onto the painting.
"Tweek," Craig's voice makes him jump. "are you gay?"
The outwardness of the question almost surprises him, it would have if only Craig was shy and reserved, which he most definitely is not.
"I-I, why do you ask?!" And all that is running through his mind is that he is found out and that Craig knows why he stares at him like that and why Tweek can't handle his gazes and now Craig is surely going to beat him to a pulp.
"Because," the grey-blue eyes wander across Tweek again, as if trying to judge his emotions just by look (which is rather easy to do with Tweek, generally) and he sighs and says, "I want to know."
Tweek is trembling as he tries to return to his painting, swallowing hard at the lump in his throat and wishing that it wasn't there. Wishing, more importantly, that he was more calm than this. He tries to shake his head, to tell the other 'no', but his head sort of freezes in place and he makes a noise close to a squeak and a cough.
Craig just stares at him before looking to the painting, then back to Tweek, then right back to the painting again. Tweek is oh so very conscious of this shift in gazes and his fingers tremble as they struggle to hold onto his brush, cheeks bright red as he makes slow, deliberate strokes across the canvas. Craig is reaching over very slowly and Tweek can't help the small flinch when his fingers reach Tweek's wrist and give it a tiny squeeze. And, as if by magic, Craig is guiding Tweek's hand along the canvas and Tweek's eyes are getting bigger and bigger as they watch the painting unfold.
It is, in short, beautiful.
Sure, it looks exactly as he had been planning for it to look, but it stuns him that Craig was able to figure out what he had been trying to paint all this time. He glances to the other, who doesn't smile or make any recognition that he knows anything, and then looks away again, clutching his hands and his paintbrush down in his lap with a look that suggests he's (successfully, so far) holding all of his emotions inside.
Craig isn't saying anything and Tweek isn't looking anywhere else but the floor, yet he feels that this is the most they've ever understood each other. All these years as friends and Tweek never could break that barrier into Craig's mind but now, with only a few strokes of a paintbrush, they know everything there is to know about one another.
And Tweek thinks his own story couldn't have a more happy ending.
Author: ienvy
Fandom: South Park
Pairing: Craig/Tweek
Rating: PG
Summary: #63 Masterpiece The Table
Warnings: IT'S FLUFFY! - Because I already write enough macabre stuff as it is. ;]
Notes: Written for chloegdgc
---
Art class is, undeniably, near the top of his list of 'the most stressful things in the entire world'. Not to say that Tweek is not good at art. In fact, he is rather good at it. Most of the time. When Craig Tucker is absent. Which, really, is most of the time. So, most of the time... Tweek is good at art.
For the days that Craig is present and sitting right next to him, Tweek is more jittery than usual. His paint goes swerving off into incorrect corners of the canvas, his hand shakes with concentration as he struggles to grip the brush with the upmost of care. And then one glance, one single, burning glance, from Craig is all it takes to send him back into that flustering, panicking state of mind and being. As if that isn't enough for Tweek to worry about, lately he swears that Craig is catching onto his feelings. And it really, really stresses him out to even think those things because that means that one day, Craig will confront him and Tweek Tweak hates confrontation and if Craig confronts him, people are going to think there's going to be another fight and if they thinks there's going to be one, they're going to push them into it and Tweek really doesn't want to have to hurt Craig.
Besides, times are different now. The medication that Tweek is taking results, oftentimes, in extreme weight loss and not to mention stinted growth (the coffee really doesn't help this, either). The overall image is a quivering, nervous boy that looked abnormally skinny for his age, not to mention short, with dark circles beneath his eyes and a pale complexion that gives one the impression that he is very ill or stricken by some incurable disease. In short, it is not a very admirable quality for fighting. In harsh comparison, Craig's body is borderline perfect for getting into fights and winning them. He is not big, but not small either, remaining stubbornly somewhere in the middle. His muscles have undeniable definition (but only when he's wearing a t-shirt, tighter clothing or getting undressed in the locker room) and Tweek is sure that if Craig has them, then he knows how to use them. The advantage Craig has is harsh in comparison to their younger years, when both were nearly equals. Now, if they got into a real fight, Tweek is sure that Craig would really, really kill him.
Craig Tucker is staring at him again.
The sort of staring that beckons Tweek from his work and pulls his attention to the side that Craig sits on, even though he tells himself to hold still, to ignore the ever steady glare that Craig manages to send him. It calls to him and he must look and as soon as he does, he looks away again very quickly, cheeks red, eyes searching for something on his canvas to concentrate on. Even once he turns his gaze to his work, he cannot seem to keep it there. Unsteady tremors of his hand send his brush every which way and he squeaks at every mistake, eyes growing wide as he begins to panic.
Craig reaches over and touches his shoulder slowly.
Tweek jumps and nearly sends his canvas and paints flying, his voice a high pitched yelp in the quiet of the art room.
Everyone stops to stare and the teacher is rushing over, angry scowl on her face as she begins to reprimand the boys. Tweek is flushing and flailing as he tries to recover his artwork, even though he knows it's spoiled now, and he looks up at her with tears coloring the corners of his eyes. The teacher continues to jabber and tell them what a bad idea it is to be goofing around when they are supposed to be working and Tweek is apologizing over and over again and she's telling him he'll have to come in for extra time to redo his project and he's still flailing and then Craig flips her off and sends her on an entire new rant, seemingly directed only at Craig and how she is and has been fed up with his antics since before she met him and her insults are met by a second middle finger and she shrieks and everyone's watching them and Tweek can feel his heart racing and...
In the end, both he and Craig are sitting in the art room after school. Tweek is there because he's supposed to be working on his art project and trying to save a portion of it. Craig is there because she demanded he wait until Tweek finished, since it was his fault and he deserved a punishment. Really, it made no sort of sense to either of the boys, but they had not bothered to argue with her when she had said it earlier that day.
So now, they sit together in the art room, Craig's expression displaying only boredom as he watches Tweek work.
And Tweek finds that, of course, he can't work with Craig watching him like that.
Because Craig is definitely not watching the strokes of his paint brush.
Craig is watching him.
"U-Uh, Craig?" Tweek murmurs while setting down his brush. "I... I really can't work like this... it's... uh, oh, I mean... it's not really your fault... but... it's hard to work while you're... you know, staring."
Craig drags his eyes up slowly across Tweek, staring into his eyes for a moment before blinking very slowly and Tweek realizes that he doesn't intend to say a damn thing.
"... Okay..." He squeaks, face going hot again as he focuses his attention back onto the painting.
"Tweek," Craig's voice makes him jump. "are you gay?"
The outwardness of the question almost surprises him, it would have if only Craig was shy and reserved, which he most definitely is not.
"I-I, why do you ask?!" And all that is running through his mind is that he is found out and that Craig knows why he stares at him like that and why Tweek can't handle his gazes and now Craig is surely going to beat him to a pulp.
"Because," the grey-blue eyes wander across Tweek again, as if trying to judge his emotions just by look (which is rather easy to do with Tweek, generally) and he sighs and says, "I want to know."
Tweek is trembling as he tries to return to his painting, swallowing hard at the lump in his throat and wishing that it wasn't there. Wishing, more importantly, that he was more calm than this. He tries to shake his head, to tell the other 'no', but his head sort of freezes in place and he makes a noise close to a squeak and a cough.
Craig just stares at him before looking to the painting, then back to Tweek, then right back to the painting again. Tweek is oh so very conscious of this shift in gazes and his fingers tremble as they struggle to hold onto his brush, cheeks bright red as he makes slow, deliberate strokes across the canvas. Craig is reaching over very slowly and Tweek can't help the small flinch when his fingers reach Tweek's wrist and give it a tiny squeeze. And, as if by magic, Craig is guiding Tweek's hand along the canvas and Tweek's eyes are getting bigger and bigger as they watch the painting unfold.
It is, in short, beautiful.
Sure, it looks exactly as he had been planning for it to look, but it stuns him that Craig was able to figure out what he had been trying to paint all this time. He glances to the other, who doesn't smile or make any recognition that he knows anything, and then looks away again, clutching his hands and his paintbrush down in his lap with a look that suggests he's (successfully, so far) holding all of his emotions inside.
Craig isn't saying anything and Tweek isn't looking anywhere else but the floor, yet he feels that this is the most they've ever understood each other. All these years as friends and Tweek never could break that barrier into Craig's mind but now, with only a few strokes of a paintbrush, they know everything there is to know about one another.
And Tweek thinks his own story couldn't have a more happy ending.