TRIGGER WARNING FOR PANIC ATTACKS AND VIOLENCE IN THIS CHAPTER

Resources:

RAPE, ASSAULT INCEST NATIONAL NETWORK

800 656 4673

NATIONAL SUICIDE PREVENTION HOTLINE

1 800 273 8255

There is a shift in their relationship in a small amount of time. Kenny doesn't know what has caused it. Ever since the party on Sunday, Kenny can feel Craig opening to him. He's not sure how to feel about that, but Craig's black locks are twisting in his fingers as he combs his digits through them. His hair is so dark and thick. It's strange; Craig looks nothing like his family. There used to be rumors that he was adopted. Kenny thinks he looks more like the kids who live in his neighborhood. Tanned skin, dark eyes and features. Latino. Maybe there is validity to Craig being adopted.

Kenny doesn't think it's his business. It's not like he hasn't been in foster care before, no matter how short lived that may have been. He presses a kiss to Craig's head, a friendly gesture. The other man squirms in his hold, and turns around. Kenny loosens his grip so Craig can do so. They lay next to each other, and Kenny rests his hand on top of Craig's, in between them.

"We have class." it's said in monotone, those sleepy brown eyes stare into Kenny's blues. Kenny is left a little speechless at first as he stares into those dark orbs. Kenny never liked brown eyes, but Craig's...he loves Craig's. His tongue darts out to moisten his lips and quickly, he regains himself. Opting to stare elsewhere, anywhere else.

"Fuck class." he says, sleep deprived. His eyes fall on Craig's hands, fingers interlaced with his. Kenny let Craig lay there in a rest, but he couldn't let himself succumb to it. There was something about the way Craig was talking when he had called Kenny. Kenny has never heard or seen Craig cry. But the choked sobs emitting from the other line was worrisome. As soon as he heard it, he made a u turn and went back in the opposite direction, towards the Tucker residence. Kenny didn't want to bring it up, but it triggered a protective instinct inside of him.

So he watched over the other male as he slumbered. Nose buried in sweet smelling black hair. Arm tossed over Craig's torso.

"I'm turning our notes in next wednesday." Craig says, he turns onto his back, letting his finger untangle from Kenny's. Kenny sits up as Craig does so. Kenny feels around for Craig's bowl, discarded somewhere in the sheets.

"Isn't that a bit soon?" Kenny questions as he finally pulls the pipe from where it was hidden under the blankets. "Do you have any weed left over?" Kenny adds in as he rolls the glass around in his hands. Craig looks up at him, and Kenny's lips part as he looks at Craig's face. He's...pretty. Kenny's eyes roam the canvas of Craig's face. Tanned skin with little splotches of flushed pink. Dark eye brows and soft, pink lips. He had flaws, Cartman always pointed out his 'snaggle teeth'. But Kenny didn't really care. His eyes flick from Craig's eyes to his nose, his mouth, all over.

"In the nightstand." Craig replies. Kenny gulps, hesitates before looking away.

"And...I don't know. I just like being early." Craig says as Kenny pulls out the last bit of weed Craig has. It's a very strange thing, considering Craig was known to get detention so often for having a fuck-you attitude. But in another way, it was very Craig like, too.

Kenny noticed awhile back that with Craig it's all or nothing. There are no in betweens. Fleshed out costumes or a simple sweater with a little super hero logo on it. Dedicated friendships where you'd easily change sides, or not giving a shit and hating the other person.

Kenny and Craig had a weird friendship.

They partnered for everything in school, animals close up, field trips, projects. But at the end of the day...

I fucking hate Craig!

There was still a distance.

But there was something here, right now, in this moment in time. Where Kenny could feel Craig and himself becoming friends. Bros. Whatever.

Kenny lights up the pipe and takes a hit, leaning his head back and passing it to Craig. He lets himself fall backwards on the bed and just looks at the ceiling. There is only enough weed to have one or two hits, but it's a nice, subtle high. It's enough.

They pass the bowl back and forth a few more times before discarding it again. Craig lays back down next to him. It's nice and quiet and lazy. It has to be around 11 am, and the sunlight paints the room in gold.

Without thinking about, Kenny digs around in his pants pockets and pulls out his vape, pressing the button on it three times. When it's on, he takes a big hit. He pushes his lips together a certain way, tensing his jaw gently, and little rings of smoke come from his mouth.

"You vape." Craig says, watching the little o's float away, and then fade into nothing.

"Well, yeah-"

"Get out of my room." Craig says, flat. Mock look of seriousness on his face. A grin finds a way to Kenny's lips, and he laughs.

"You're an asshole. There ARE benefits to vaping over cigarettes, you know." Kenny says. Craig rolls his eyes. Kenny watches the brown orbs move and lets out a chuckle.

"Your eyes look like big brown moons." he says, it sounded like the perfect thing to say at the moment. He turns over on his side and reaches a hand out to touch Craig's face, but pauses. In a grant of permission, Craig takes his own hand and rests it on top of Kenny's guiding it towards his countenance. He feels like Craig's hand is sinking into his, like they are one. Kenny's lips part as he runs his thumb over Craig's closed eyelid. His hearts pounding in his chest. His finger tips gingerly run down the surface of Craig's face. Sinking.

"Show me how to blow o's." Craig says, turning towards Kenny. Kenny lets his hand fall, and takes in Craig's countenance.

"Yeah. Yeah, ok."

Hours had passed since then, and they'd both fallen asleep again. It's the sound of some weird indie song that Craig has as his ring tone that wakes them up.

Craig feels around for his phone as Kenny stares at his back. Craig answers it, voice groggy and sleepy.

"You HAVE to come to Token's party." Kenny watches and notices how Craig tenses at this. He can hear Clyde, loud and clear, though he's not on speaker.

"No." Craig responds. Kenny sits up and looks out the window. The sky is blending together in different colors, it's almost night time. Have they really been out this long?

"Come ON. Your favorite band will be there. You know, Star Kissers? Lola will be playing after." Kenny can see how uncomfortable Craig is, and he places a hand on his shoulder. Craig shakes it off, though.

And wow, back to square one.

"I'll only go for a little bit." Craig says, he hangs up as Clyde starts to gush and thank him. The phone falls from his grip onto the bed. Craig sits there, staring out the window. Kenny scoots a little closer to him. He wants to ask if he's alright, but it's none of his business. Instead, he looks out at Craig's front lawn instead.

"We can go together. I'll stay with you, the whole time." Kenny tells him. Craig lets out a scoff at that, and remains quiet. Kenny stares at his profile for a few seconds. Something isn't quite right, but Kenny leaves it be. He gets off the bed, and starts going through Craig's clothes. He finds a band tshirt that says 'Joyce Manor' on it, with a tooth in the middle of the two words.

"Come on, get dressed."

Craig eventually turns around, their eyes don't meet. Craig stares down the whole time, keeps his gaze away from Kenny.

The ride to the party is quiet, minus the hum of Kenny's truck and the radio. They're listening to some pop station. Kenny looks out at the road while Craig stares out at the window, familiar houses and stores passing by. It's a short ride, and when they arrive at Token's, the engine cuts off. Kenny turns to Craig.

"It's going to be sweet, dude." He says with a smile. Craig looks at him, and forces one back. It's ugly, nothing like the one at the last concert they went to. False. But Kenny accepts it.

They both step out, trudge through the snow to the large mansion that is Token's house. They don't bother knocking. Just open the door to music pounding. People talking. The scent of booze.

The foyer is large, with a big twisting stair case leading to the many rooms in the Black residence. It always amazes Kenny, he remembers getting lost here once or twice. He was fortunate he had his phone.

Kenny looks over his shoulder at Craig, and notices how off he looks. His eyes are wide, wider than usual. His hands are in little balls at his side. Lips parted. He looks pale, like he's seen a ghost. Kenny steps back towards him,

"Hey, we can ditch this if you want, man." Kenny offers. Craig stares out at the expanse of the foyer, he looks like he's about to explode. Kenny wants to grab his hand and pull him out of here, he doesn't know what's got Craig got so worked up. But it's eerie. He's about to do just that, when Craig speaks.

"I'm fine." It's said airily, his eyelids squeeze shut.

"Lets get a drink." Craig says, taking the lead. Kenny follows after him. They end up getting a corona and finding a couch to just sit and relax. Kenny throws his arm around the other male, and surprisingly; Craig scoots closer to him.

It's fine at first, Craig warms up. They both crack a bunch of jokes about the party goers. Kenny telling the stories of their classmates and people they don't know from the town over. It's great.

But then...it's not so great. Kenny is laughing so hearty at something he said. Something about Heidi Turner's dad looking like he ate the whole damn gym. That's how buff he is. Until he realizes Craig's not laughing. He doesn't know what caused the pause, but his eyes are glued to where a table has been set up for beer pong. Kenny's eyes follow his, they land on some guy. He has dirty blond hair, cut close to his head. He's shorter than the two of them. But he has subtle muscles, a slender, muscular frame. He's whispering into some girls ear, hand curled around her waist.

"You know him?" Kenny pries. He looks at Craig, and without and warning, and signs. Craig shoots up, pushing Kenny away.

"What? Where are you going man?" Kenny questions as he gets up and follows Craig. His pace is fast, pushing people out of his way. A few people vocalize their irritation and Kenny apologizes on his behalf. Before he knows it, Craig's running, and Kenny's running after him.

A door slams shut behind them, and they are in some weird porch. There are lawn chairs and some weird lawn ornaments. Kenny watches as Craig paces, knocking some of the little figurines over. His fingers are gripping at his hair. He left his baseball cap at home, and he's tugging at his locks. Tears streak his face. Rolling down his cheeks.

"Craig, what-" Kenny steps closer, but Craig stares with wide eyes, backing away.

"No." he says, and Kenny stays where he is. He's confused, and scared. He doesn't know what the fuck is going on.

"No. No. No. Get away from me!" Craig is backing into a wall, legs keep moving even though there is nothing else to back into. He's covering his face, sobs and whimpers escaping his lips.

Kenny dares to step closer, unsure of what to do.

"STOP! GET AWAY FROM ME!" Craig says, it's broken and frightened. So unlike Craig, so unusual. It's said in the same nasal, but with so much fear conveyed into it. Craig pushes Kenny away and Kenny falls backwards on his ass. Before he knows it, Craig's on top of him. Plowing his fists into him. He's screaming and crying and Kenny lets him hit him. God knows he's endured enough pain. When he can though, he grips onto Craig's wrists.

"Craig, come on. You're safe. You're safe. I'm not going to hurt you."

Craig pauses. An absolute freeze. He's breathing so shallow, heavy.

"It's me, Kenny. Come on, you're safe. Breathe in, come on, breathe." Kenny watches as Craig tries to catch his breath. How he shakes, how the quivers feel in his grip.

"Kenny..." he says through shaky breathing.

"Don't talk, just breathe. Like that. In. Hold it. Hold it. Out, now..."

The ambulance is called, Kenny and a bunch of other party goers watch as Craig is whisked away to hells pass. Kenny doesn't tell anyone that Craig hit him. He's sporting a black eye, but he's always bruised up. No one thinks anything of it.

Kenny pulls his phone out of his pocket, and looks at the last text sent to him by Craig.

"Fuck off, cheeto."