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I found myself at a party. Clyde dragged me along saying that I should be “apart of the college experience”.
I honestly wasn’t in college to fucking party. I was a dedicated film student, but whatever. They had free drinks and weren’t carding.
Everything seemed to stop as I noticed someone walk up. They looked so familiar…
The blonde walked up to the bar, “one rum & coke, please,” he ordered, meekly.
He noticed me and smiled. He got his drink and walked over to me.
“Hey, Craig, long time no see,” he takes a big swig of his drink.
I’m used to having complete strangers knowing everything about me. Acute dissociative amnesia is a bitch that way. As well as the fact that my memory is just basic shit.
“U-uh, hey, man,”
“You never seemed like the party type,”
“I’m not,” I admitted, chuckling, “Clyde dragged me here,”
“Ah, makes sense,” he smiles. “How’ve you been?”
“Uh g-good,” I cursed myself for stuttering. “You?”
“Eh. I finally got the hell out of South Park, got out of that damned coffee shop, away from my parents, I feel so free, but so… unfulfilled,”
Okay, that narrowed it down. South Park… Coffee shop…
“Tweek..?”
“Uh, yea? What?”
“How’s your dating life been?” I made that up on the fly. I jogged my memory of every ‘Tweek’ thing I could come up with. “Someone told me you got with a cute girl,”
“Ahah, no, homosexual life has been really interesting. I’ve been dating off and on,”
“Oh, nice,”
“How about you? Any lucky guys or girls?”
“No. You know me, huge tool. Not one for getting to know people,” I joked.
“Well you sure got to k-know me,” His voice softened. I remember now.
“When we were ‘dating’ … was that ever… like, real?”
“What do you mean?”
“Was it all fake?”
“I’d like to think not,,” He trailed off, finishing his drink. “Uh, I’ll be right back, I’m getting another drink,”
Too many heart beats went by before he came back, but he came back with another rum & coke and 2 shots of patronne.
We gladly took the shots and he started on his second rum & coke. We were both sufficiently buzzed at this point. We continued to get drunker and drunker. By around 11pm he suggested we went to his place.
Sloppy drunk make-outs full of sweat and grease and grime.
We hardly reached his bedroom before I was in his pants. I slowly unzipped his skinny jeans and he slipped off mine. I pulled his shirt off him and we kissed again.
Sloppy drunk fucking ensued.
I don’t remember much else of that night. Just small talk and the way he moaned into my neck.
…
I awoke with a huge hangover. I slowly moving my head around to survey my surroundings. I quickly grabbed my phone and texted Clyde that I went home with someone, just so he doesn’t call the fucking police or something.
I roll over to see a sleeping Tweek. I snake my arm around his waist and hold him close to me for a while. He eventually awakes. I feign sleep.
He gets up and pulls the closest article of clothing, with is my Red Rider shirt and his boxers. He exits the room and I’m left alone.
An unmeasurable amount of time passes before he returns. I feign waking up.
“Morning, sleeping beauty~” He hands me a glass of water and 2 Excedrin migraine. I chug them down and rub my eyes.
“What happened last night?”
“We fucked,”
A pause… “You don’t have an STD do you?”
“Uh,” he laughs, “no, I’m good dude,” we laugh together, even though it hurts my head.
“You look really cute in my shirt~”
“Oh, I-I didn’t even notice, uhm sorry,”
“It’s okay, you can keep it if you want,,”
He giggles and sits down next to me.
“We like, fucked in 9th grade didn’t we?” I inquire.
“8th,”
“Oh damn, that’s young,”
“Yea, we were little horny fuckers back then,” he looks at me, studying the maturity from when he’d last seen, to now. “You’ve grown,”
“Yea,”
“Do you remember anything?”
“From last night?”
“No, from South Park,”
“Bits and pieces,” he was visually hurt by this. Anyone would be, knowing someone they were once intimate with has completely forgotten them. “We dated. You worked at your parent’s coffee shop. You had the saddest name ever. Shit like that,”
“We used to hang out with Clyde and Token,”
“Shit, I still do,” I smile, “What happened to you?”
“I moved, asshat,” He said grumpily.
“I-I’m sorry dude, my memory is shit,”
He took a deep breath, “I know, it’s just hard,”
“I’m sorry,” I wrap an arm around him.
“It’s whatever, you should probably leave,” He stands up. My heart sinks.
“Yea, I guess. Will I um,, ever see you again?”
“Depends, how much more sex are you willing to put up with?”
“I’ve been deprived my whole life, I think I can handle multiple times a week,”
I pull on a sweater and my jeans.
I exit into the main room of his flat to find…
Kenny…
And Butters. Snuggling on the couch watching Saturday cartoons.
“Heyy, big boy, long time, no see,” Kenny’s shit eating grin spreads across his face.
“Ugh, you,”
“Ugh, me,” He winks.
“Oh, Ken, be nice to the fella,” Butters mumbles to his (probably) boyfriend. “How’ve you been, Craig?”
“Borderline,” I say as Tweek leads me into the kitchen area. We fix bowls of cereal and sit down on the second couch.
Butters is braiding Kenny’s hair, which is just long enough in places to do so. It looks shaggy. He’s a shaggy person. I honestly don’t know how Butters can keep up with such a horn-dog. Poor thing must be the sorest mother fucker on the planet.
Tweek takes this opportunity to put his number in my phone and send me a shit ton of emojis. I scowl at him and he grins.
I finish my bowl of cereal and put it in the sink.
“I should probably go,”
“I imagine we’ll be seeing you here often?” Kenny teases. I flip him off.
Tweek makes sure I have all of my things and sends me on my merry way.