Hi, my name is Tweek Tweak and I'm an addict

The morning burns. If it wasn’t for the additional weights piled on him, it would be a better day - but Tolkien really is stuck between the couch and his friends.

For a day starting at one p.m; he can’t really hope for better. Pushing away the two teens atop of him, Tolkien leaves the couch as he makes sure that neither Clyde nor Kenny fell.

By the noises in the house, he might be the only one up for now but perhaps someone already left. He notices on his phone that Craig is online but he has this vivid feeling that he wouldn’t have left the house as for nom, except if he left with Tweek.

Craig only sees his text but doesn’t answer. Tolkien sends another one to clarify that he can give him a lift after he grabs something to eat here.

Very carefully, he picks up something to eat. He is relieved to see that Stan had the reflex to prepare coffee for the morning, or he had woken up before everyone else to turn it on. Anyhow, it's a blessing.

Tolkien hadn't seen him a lot last night. He still doesn't understand why the party happened—though they had never needed a reason to throw one before but usually they give a heads-up while this time it's thanks to Kenny drunk-texting that they heard about it.

When he arrived last night, he never expected that Kyle and Tweek would be as wasted as it had been announced in the groupchat, but Tolkien supposes it's something bound to happen. He is looking forward to the upcoming videos and images of the party.

With his late arrival, he was granted the luck to not deal with the drunks. He only watched after a soporific Kenny, just awake enough to ask for a phone and call Leo, again. It had been a bit embarrassing to see him that desperate.

Luckily, Clyde and him busied themselves by drinking what was left.

Tolkien settles in the kitchen with a cup of coffee and cereals to snack on. It’s quiet and even relaxing to contemplate the Broflosvki’s garden through the kitchen’s glass doors. His cup is almost emtpy and makes him wonder to get another one when his phone chimes. At least Craig is alive and answers him.

He muses over his decision from yesterday. It feels like he should have gone home, after dropping his date, but without any surprise Clyde’s insistence convinced him to at least come take a look which is perfectly a way to end up staying there. Maybe he has a weak willpower. Though even Craig had put in a good word that it is funny to watch Stan overwhelmed by his drunk friends and Kenny's despair.

A few grunts and then a fall startle him. Tolkien pauses to try to hear anything else. He is sure that it’s Clyde but he stays in his seat. If he didn’t know Craig was coming down, he would already leave because he doesn’t want to think about Clyde at the moment; if he even knows what to think of.

Except that Craig will definitely say something about them. Hopefully, he hadn’t noticed that they disappeared together last night for a moment since he was busy taking care of Tweek. It must be written on his face that something happened—again.

Tolkien doesn’t know what is going on, if it’s only  sexual attraction or if there is something deeper. It could be a big joke from his own hormones. As much as he wants to think of it as harmless - Tolkien knows it isn’t. Not that he could decide the impact on Clyde, but if it affects him then his accomplice surely is too.

They don’t talk about it, which is perfect. Really. It never seems to be a good idea to bring that up when they both lack conclusions. He certainly does and he would rather not be confronted about it.

Perhaps if Tolkien had more sexual experiences in his life, he wouldn’t be as lost as now. He can see that he is a bit ‘popular’ but he rarely got to the point where they would have sex. His tastes aren’t that difficult when tries to picture someone but even if they are pretty or easy to talk to he doesn’t always want to do anything more. It has always made him feel uncomfortable when people expect intimate contacts in a snap. Accolades and a brush are no problems but he never could bring himself to be comfortable to kiss on the first date.

It feels like he is old-fashioned but Tolkien is mostly thinking about his own comfort without really thinking on how it must look like. The only other time he had been truly comfortable with intimacy was with Nichole before they broke up around fifteen.

Tolkien looks up at the creak, noticing the figure walking down the stairs when he leans above the table. He smiles and signs with his head toward his cereals when Craig reaches the kitchen.

“Hey. Didn’t want to get up?”

Craig replies with the split of an almost-smile before looking around, pausing on the coffee machine.

“Nobody will be here to think that you like coffee, so don’t force yourself until you are sick. You won’t leave the toilet for an hour,” Tolkien comments with an unrestrained smile. “How was your night?”

“You’re a bitch,” Craig retorts, getting more annoyed at his chuckle. “Everyone thinks you’re a good guy when you’re actually a bitch.”

He shrugs. Craig seems to almost grimace, always more expressive in the morning when his body doesn’t realize it’s time to play dead.

“You want me to drive you home?” He offers.

“Yeah, I don’t think Clyde will be in shape to drive.”

Craig sits down and fetches some cereals from the box. Tolkien can’t argue with that, even if Clyde is most likely the one who fell down off the couch he won’t wake up any time soon. It’s fine by him - he needs to be far away from him for now.

“How was the night, anyway? You disappeared.”

“I slept,” Craig quickly replies, ignoring his glance but he is pondering whether to add something or not. “Tweek drools in his sleep.”

“Ah.”

What could Tolkien do with that information? It isn’t something that really interests him or has any use for. He isn’t Craig.

“How was last night? Second date planned?” He asks, not quite flustered but Tolkien can see that he doesn’t really know what to do with himself and his thoughts.

With tight lips, he opts for a quick shrug. “She is nice-”

“Nice?”

“Yeah, nice.” Tolkien frowns at him, guessing his point. “It was fun but I didn’t check my texts yet.”

“You won’t ask for another date.”

“I don’t know yet,” he admits with a sigh.

Tolkien takes his phone out. His bad mood recoils at the few texts from his date. She wrote about how the date had been fun and what movies might interest him if he is up to go out again. He isn’t stupid to not recognize the nice gesture but he is still unsure about agreeing. The date really had been nice. He texts back to agree that it had been fun for him too but he can’t make plans yet. It’s only half a lie; with his friends and the band he often has impromptu hang-outs, which frankly can’t compare with his date last night but it’s different.

He slightly startles at the slide of the glass-door. Both turn to notice Ike coming in through the garden. He always has inches every time he sees him, which is funny considering everyone else in his family are smaller and he hasn’t stopped his growth spurt. Ike stares at them before closing the glass door. His backpack slids down from his arm.

“Hi.”

“Hey.”

“You guys look like shit. And it smells like vomit,” Ike says, grimacing with a look around.

“Makes sense.”

“Kyle is still asleep? I thought he would be up for lunch.”

“I have no idea,” Tolkien admits, just as Ike expertly opens a cupboard to find candies. He is surprised to spot what could be a hickey but his head turns before he can decide to ask.

“I should have eaten with Firkle,” Ike grumbles and walks out.

Craig shares a look with Tolkien but they stay quiet until he almost jumps out of his seat when Ike talks again.

“Hey Tweek, you look horrible.”

Tolkien almost rolls his eyes at Craig's quick look at the coffeemaker. As a good friend, he decides to not witness the upcoming disaster. Craig stands up, definitely trying to look like he is going to take a cup of coffee. He can’t look away but manages to not snort.

Tweek’s head appears in the door frame. Ike seems to have gone upstairs, not caring of the volume of his steps on the stairs. Tweek slowly retreats after he takes a look at them with bloodshot eyes.

Craig glances at Tolkien with his mouth ajar. He returns the confused look before leaving his seat to be able to see the living room. Tweek’s hair peeking out from the door frame is the only hint that he’s still here.

“Tweek?” He asks, earning another short glance in the kitchen, only now he is sitting on the ground. “Do you want some coffee?”

Tolkien almost falls because Craig just carelessly bumps against his back to also get a view of Tweek.

“You know there are— chairs.”

Tweek frowns at him.

“Do you want a cup?” Craig asks. Tweek scrambles on his feet, looking awful and if there wasn’t a wall there to hold on he might have to crawl. “How did you sleep?” He blurts out as Tweek strolls in the kitchen.

Tolkien elbows him with a look just as Tweek takes the whole beaker in hand. Before he can point where the cups are stored, he drinks the coffee straight from the beaker.

“Oh my God,” he whispers as Tweek clumsily walks out to collapse on Kenny on the seat in the living room, the latter only groaning before going back to sleep. “He is beat-” Tolkien turns to look at Craig and isn’t surprised by the clear look on his face but has no time to deal with his feelings acting like some kind of epiphany every time he sees Tweek. “No. Whatever you are thinking, it’s not. And he really is smashed.”

“I wasn’t going to say anything.”

“I can read your face, especially when you’re being all gay,” he reminds him with a faint motherly tone.

Craig, embarrassed, frowns at him but they glance at the creaking stairs. A small swear follows before Stan walks down, looking a bit more clear-headed than anyone else. He freezes when he sees them, hand stopping over his stomach that he was scratching.

“Uh, hey,” Stan greets.

Tweek violently shushes them, spurting in the coffee but still not taking it away from his lips. Tolkien knows that the coffee was still pretty warm just a minute or two ago.

“Hey,” he replies to fill up the awkwardness.

Stan is about to answer before he walks over to have a closer look at Tweek.

“Tweek, you can’t sit on Kenny!” He hisses and tries to push him off but he is just swatted away. “Get off!”

Tolkien worriedly glances at Clyde still sleeping on the ground not far from the couch; someone could easily fall on him.

“Just let him, Marsh,” Craig joins but keeps in check his volume.

“Don’t drink from the bea-Tweek,” Stan groans out when he doesn’t let go of it. “You know I need some too, right?”

Tweek only glares back as he sinks off the couch while plunging his whole tongue in the coffee with his eyes drilling into Stan, who grimaces and throws up his hands in frustration. He walks in the kitchen with a quick 'disgusting son of a bitch'.

Tolkien has no idea where Stan and Tweek went after that. He only has the reflex to shake Craig off so he doesn’t stand in the living room like a blasted lamp to observe Tweek like it’s the best TV show.

They didn’t talk long since Craig acted like an ass and he didn’t really have any energy to try to speak. Stan only got half a cup of the precious coffee from Tweek and not any other drop.

Without waiting long himself, Tolkien drops Craig off at his place once Stan brings Tweek to the animal shelter with him. Clyde hadn’t woken up, which is a relief. Ike is happy to stay up and check on everyone after stealing dollars from Cartman’s wallet.

One thing Tolkien can really admit about himself and his life is that he is lucky in the parents’ department. He does get into arguments with them, but it appears to be common stuff - playing too many video games, staying out late or spending money over stupid stuff. Anyhow, except for having some expectations for him, they aren’t forcing him one way or another.

Most high-school students don’t believe him that he comes from ‘the fucked up town’ South Park which is understandable. He doesn’t exactly add up. After eating a sandwich that his mom kindly prepared in case of a hangover, he throws himself in his bed.

Tolkien manages to doze for a moment but he quickly showers after the sweat-like feeling disrupts him too much. When he comes back to his bed, he isn’t tired enough to sleep but enough to not do something else. He is stuck on scrolling on social media. Stan has taken Tweek to the shelter he goes every week, his stories are filled with dogs and Tweek walking with them too - albeit with an obvious look of hangover. It seems to cheer him up at least from the short pictures and videos where several dogs ask for pets.

His bedroom’s door slams open and Clyde strides in, to his complete surprise, looking properly disheveled, as if he owns the place.

“I’m so—” Tolkien frowns at him but lets him finish-”wasted.”

Clyde crashes in his bed beside him with a dramatic whine. He doesn’t have to move or scoot over to make some space because of the size of the bed, but he still hesitates when he feels their arms just so slightly brushing.

“Why are you already awake?” He wonders, straightening himself a bit up to have a better view of him. “Something happened?”

“Everyone was awake and Kenny gave me a lift,” Clydes mumbles against the blanket.

Tolkien focuses back on his phone, not thinking about who is crawling closer and fighting to get a bit of the blanket over him. He purses his lips.

“Just get under it. Take your shoes off.”

It’s a quick and a bit rough settlement but they get comfortable. Clyde is under the blanket, shuffling with a pleased grunt. He is comfortable and Tolkien is happy about it. That’s the whole thing about friendship, isn't it? Being comfortable with each other.

Tolkien closes his eyes. The faint hope to sleep still tempts him.

Good thing about his house is that you rarely hear anything from the other side of the wall as long as the volume isn’t borderline illegal. His parents more than often only turned on the TV or music to have a background noise while they were downstairs, but they do enjoy privacy and they built their home that way. It feels like they are all by themselves in his room but Tolkien knows better. He could have locked his door to not let anyone walk in but his parents will knock before coming in– not that they will do anything they need to hide.

That’s what he tells himself as Clyde turns against him, completely breaching their natural distance. Nothing except their breaths or the rare barks of the two dogs in the garden disrupt it.

Tolkien peers at Clyde when he moves around, only to roll himself up more in the blanket. His face is buried in a pillow, squeezing it with his two arms, and his legs shift until they touch. Tolkien gulps down a tensed sigh and puts an arm over his eyes, tyring to get back to sleep.

“Hangover?” Clyde asks with a rough voice.

He shrugs. “Less than you.”

Clyde snorts and falls quiet. With the idea that sleeping might be the best from both of them, Tolkien turns away. He is used to sheltering him after parties; or any Saturday really.

“I think,” he sighs, “I think my dad is seeing Cartman’s bitch of a mom.”

Tolkien pensively swallows. “Probably. Makes sense with the ski trip coming up. Plus there are meetups for the parents coming with us and Garrison.”

“What?!” His head jumps up but his eyes are still closed. “What do you mean meetups?”

“They mentioned it. They must see each other every week or so already.”

A fake sob echoes and he buries his face back in the pillow with a desperate scream. Tolkien rubs Clyde’s shoulder with a slight chuckle.

Clyde doesn’t enjoy being alone in his house and he avoids it whenever he can. Since his mother’s death he has been dodging certain places if he could help it. Or at least that’s Tolkien’s theory. His sister is much older than Clyde which means she has left home quite early to go to university and he grows more as a single child than a little brother. Though he doesn’t seem to mind it and he likes his sister - but once his mother died he started to feel lonely.

Nobody exactly minds Clyde to show up; Craig’s family mostly don’t care and maybe someone communicating proper feelings, even for the smallest thing, is a refreshment for them once in a while. Jimmy’s family seems to only mind the extra mouth. Tolkien shared his thoughts about Clyde’s situation witth his parents, they seemed ready to get the boy a room. They have always liked him. He had told them to not act like he’s an orphan - because he wasn’t; Clyde only dislikes being alone in his house so he wanders to one of their friends.

Anyhow, here is Clyde in his house without his parents thinking - oh, what could go wrong. Tolkien feels stupid now but he wishes they would somewhat complain now just so he can be sure that Clyde won’t show up every day. Turning to his side with a groan he tries to get himself to sleep. Just when he is almost, really at this to sleep, a hand squeezes his shoulder.

“Tolkien,” Clyde whispers, “how was your date? You had one last night… right?” Tolkien doesn’t budge with the hope that he would look deeply sleeping. “Are you sleeping?”

It isn’t helping that now he wants to laugh. He knows Clyde will be offended, more susceptible with his friends, but Tolkien really can’t help it. Although he can quickly be soothed; Tolkien knows how to deal with him. Before he could decide to actually answer, Clyde’s hand leaves him and falls back between them. Neither move away.

The rest is quiet or tense. Depending on if their exhaustion is in the balance and Tolkien’s grief.

His dad comes by to wake them up for dinner, not blinking at Clyde clinging on Tolkien, with a minor comment about alcohol consumption.

They eat and watch the TV over the childish soup. His mom is not ready to move on from the alphabetic pastas in any type of soup but Tolkien will never complain about it. It’s comfortable and not because Clyde and him share a blanket together. Nothing but friendship here.

If they made out last night, plus Clyde dropping to his knees and— well it’s nothing new from all the parties since half a year.

 It turns out all of the gang had planned to crash at his place on Sunday, going back through every horror game they have together. To Tolkien’s relief, Craig never made any comments about the party and probably didn’t tell Jimmy anything either. He perfectly knows they are aware that something is going on but Tolkien prefers to focus on the games or laughing at Jimmy’s multiple tricks to spook Clyde.

“By the way, Tweek is stopping by so I can lend him guitar strings,” he reminds once he realizes the time.

Clyde pauses the game to turn around just as Jimmy wolfishly grins at Craig. Their stubborn friend only stares at the game like there is nothing else than the pausing screen.

“Maybe we can con-convince him to stay and play with us,” Jimmy suggests.

“I think he works. He is having his break now but it’s not long,” Tolkien dismally points out.

“Aw come on, he can hang out once!” Clyde argues with a pout, going to pat Craig’s thigh and is quickly swatted away. “We will have fun and he loves video games, doesn’t he?”

“He told me he is good at this one. Played enough to memorize it all,” Craig admits.

Tolkien glances at him but he still stares at the screen.

“We can always try,” he agrees.

Clyde jumps on his feet as the controller roughly falls on the floor. Tolkien is about to tell him to calm down but he loudly speaks before he can.

“Okay! We have to make it look cooler than it already is!”

“Rude.”

“We need more snacks! And-and pillows!”

“You’re not supposed to be the one char-charming Tweeker, Clyde,” Jimmy snickers, earning a glare and chuckles.

“I don’t really think we have to convince him or anything,” Tolkien comments. “It’s just a matter of timing. And that Craig can’t stand Stan and-”

“They are assholes.”

“You’re just di-difficult. Su-suck it up for once.”

“Snacks!” Clyde shouts, dashing back in the living room to throw different snacks over the couch and at them.

“What kind of snacks does he like? Chocolate or like caramel stuff?”

Tolkien speaks up before Craig can.

“Just calm down and try to not look as— as I don’t know but I’m pretty sure Tweek will freak out if you act like this.”

“Craig stop,” Clyde frowns and returns the middle finger. “Don’t disrespect your wingman! Unbe-”

They all startle at the bell. Tolkien just has the time to stand up and block Clyde from running at the door. “You are going to freak him out! Just start to play like normal.”

He pushes Clyde down on the couch when he tries to sneak past him.

“Don’t make me ask Craig to sit on you.”

“I can.”

“No, don’t,” Tolkien argues with exasperation and walks away as the game restarts.

He opens the door with the most friendly smile he could think of. Tweek looks at him like he is a ghost.

“Oh— hi,” he mumbles with a frown, tugging on his shirt.

“Hi, Tweek,” Tolkien trails, feeling like the anxiety seeped in him too. “Are you okay?” He adds with a quieter tone.

There are too many chances for his friends to try to eavesdrop and he can easily guess that Tweek wouldn’t like to be at the receiving end of their attention at the moment; especially since he doesn’t look that well. Maybe Tweek is still hungover.

“I’m fine,” Tweek replies before tightening his lips enough to make them white. “Are you sure about the strings? I can wait-”

“No, no, don’t worry I always have some in stock. It’s really troublesome when you want to play and don’t have any new ones, right?” Tweek answers with a quick nod. “Come in, I just need to fetch them from my room.”

“I can wait here.”

Tolkien halts but makes another move of the head to convince him.

“Come on you aren’t going to stay out here— there are snacks too. You can make yourself comfortable.”

“I-I don’t have the time, my break is short,” Tweek mumbles but steps in.

He feels a bit rude as a host but also can’t deal with Tweek just standing here in front of the door. He nudges him with a hand on his shoulder.

“I promise I won’t take more than a minute to get them.”

Tweek glances at him and follows him further inside, shy and anxious as if he never came in his house before. Tolkien hopes his friends won’t be overwhelming. He expected Tweek to be exhausted because of the party, despite that it’s been two days, and his universal lack of sleep, but he looks worse than he expected. Tweek tries to shrink on himself, positively trying to make himself as discreet as possible.

“Hi Tweek!” Clyde chimes with a bright smile as he moves around on the couch, successfully clearing the spot between him and Craig.

Tweek seems to lack a voice with his short tensed nod. He takes a look at them and the room before glancing at Tolkien with a clear wish to get his guitar strings. He takes the stairs with an encouraging smile.

Tolkien walks into his bedroom door but stays close to the door to listen in on his friends’ cheerful attempts to convince Tweek to stay. The latter isn’t cruel in his refusalf but still quick and stubborn as he explains how he just needs to leave - even when Craig reminds him he likes this game.

Once Tolkien walks down the stairs, he immediately drifts toward the door as if Tolkien might just throw them outside to give him a head start. Tweek’s shirt is wrinkled and if there are buttons he would have lost them all by how sharp his tugs are. Tolkien doesn’t have the time to try to reassure him that he could talk to him about anything if he needs and wants to. Tweek only hurries with a short goodbye and honest ‘thank you’.

On Monday, Kyle and Tweek punch each other.

The altercation is quick, raw and harsh. Kyle’s cheek is swollen for the whole day and every few minutes or so, he needs to pause to swallow blood. They both get detention and Tolkien is surprised to see that Kyle still shows up in their locker room after the baseball team finished their last game before the Christmas break.

“You do anything weird I will kick your ass,” Kyle warns, handing the folded paper to Craig between two tensed fingers. Tolkien recognizes the pastel color of the Secret Santa’s tickets. Ever since Cartman cheated one year, Wendy and Annie had to come up with a system to prevent it.

As planned, Kyle came into the locker room to meet up despite the fight; some players cover themselves because of his known sexuality and Tolkien can’t believe them but he sits tiredly on the bench. The victory will be blissful once he is properly celebrating with his friends but for now he needs the rest.

Craig carefully checks the content of the paper before folding it back. He wants to roll his eyes at his dramatic verification but stays focused on getting his shoes off. Kyle seems less stressed to check the paper he gets in exchange from Craig but a small smile confirms that he is satisfied to see the name he wanted. Craig has put himself at risk - if you even want to see it that way - but he has been quite determined to get Tweek’s name, which has asked for many swaps of names.

“What was the fight about?” Craig asks without a second for Kyle to take a breath.

He frowns and his lips pinch for a second. Tolkien looks up at the growing silence, unsure if they are going to start a fight over nothing. Kyle is always feisty after a fight and Craig isn’t one to let himself be beaten up, plus whatever happened with Tweek is probably touchy.

“You saw it?” He says with his natural grumpy grimace.

“Yeah,” Craig lies.

Tolkien has seen the fight which is how he knows about it. It happened during a short break where Tweek was with Cartman at Kyle’s locker. Their conversation heated up and before anyone could understand what it was about: Tweek punched Kyle who retaliated without hesitation. Even Cartman was surprised before he started to film it.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Kyle grumbles with tight teeth, glaring at nothing before him. “I swear if you do anything weird I will kill you,” he warns, “and if you tell that we switched for the Secret Santa too.”

Craig flips him off and Kyle only walks out of the locker room. He quietly turns back to his side of the bench and takes out his towel to stash the paper in his bag. Tolkien is certain that Kyle would have guessed everything if he saw how Craig delicately placed the paper with the stickers he received this morning by post.

“You know, you could just tell Kyle the truth,” Tolkien comments before he has the strength to leave for the showers. “He probably has an idea by now. He could help.”

“He can’t keep a secret,” he argues.

“I’m pretty sure there are more chances he talks about it with Stan and all now. Knowing him he will try to find out why you wanted Tweek’s name,” he points out in a whisper. Craig is serious but also childishly stubborn.

“Well, you don’t talk about it either.” Craig replies with his glare as a half-mocking one.

He can see that he is too happy to act like a total ass. “Maybe I will talk when you do.”

Tolkien quickly loses his bad mood when Jimmy and Clyde burst in the locker for the ‘victory team’.

On Tuesday, Tweek is a time bomb.

During the first hour of class, Tolkien watches him fidget every single second. Usually he is quiet except if something really excites him like good news in the morning or his anxiety is high and he shifts at every noise. Right now he seems to only wait for a time to run away despite that they have no exams planned.

Everyone gives Tweek a look or two for the continuous jumps of his anxious leg. He doesn’t even seem to be aware of what he is doing. His eyes are glued on his textbook, clearly not reading, or on the windows.

Tolkien shares an incomprehensible look with Heidi who keeps glancing at him too. He looks up at the clear snapping sound.

Heidi gapes at Tweek from across their shared group table. “What are you doing?”

He stares at the bright hair falling in front of Tweek, brandishing a pair of scissors in a hand. His fringe now displayes an odd bang over his faint black eye given by Kyle. Tolkien quickly checks that their teacher is still busying themselves with a magazine at their desk.

“Cutting my hair,” Tweek says, taking another strand between his fingers, ready to snap it.

“I can see that! Don’t!” She quarrels and grabs his wrist to fight his grip on the scissors at the last second. “Stop!”

“It’s my scissors!” Tweek fights back but she gets them. “Give them back!”

“I’m not letting you cut your hair without even a mirror,” she hisses, putting the scissors on the table with a calm sigh. “What’s going on, Tweek? Do you want to go out?” Heidi softly asks but Tweek only grinds his chair on the floor.

Tolkien figures he is going to jump out of his chair to stand up and get back the scissors but he quiets down with a conflicted grimace.

Heidi doesn’t waver off her soft smile but the glance she shoots at Tolkien asks for help. He still has no idea what is going on with Tweek—ever since the party he was not only out of character, but out of everything. It doesn’t seem like he is only sick.

Then Tweek leaves the classroom just like that.

He took his stuff, stuffed it in his backpack without looking away, and to everybody’s surprise he just walked out of the class. The teacher stared at the door.

Tolkien did ask yesterday if Stan knew anything about Tweek’s mood - to know if he could do anything to help; Kenny worked that day and he wasn’t sure if Kyle and Tweek were even talking anymore. It hasn’t helped much since apparently Stan has no idea either. He really doubts it but he does know there is an intense friendship in their group ever since 8th grade. They definitely know but don’t want to share anything. Maybe it’s pretentious but he feels offended that they wouldn’t give him any of their trust.

Still, Tolkien is a nice guy - he hopes so. It would be a bit harsh for them to keep that away when they are in a band. It’s maybe a blessing since Tweek has only gotten more agitated since the start of the day. He has been biting his nails and passing his hands through his hair before tearing on it with a pained expression.

Tolkien takes out his phone after having no word to explain to Heidi what is going on; his only idea is to text Tweek if he needs to talk or some help. There is no answer and Cartman abruptly stands up from his chair; his books are already packed and he peacefully walks toward the door.

“Eric, where are you going?” Heidi asks with a suspicious raised eyebrow. “Do you know what’s happening to Tweek?”

“Urh,” he groans out with a slow roll of eyes, halting for a second next to their table, “what’s unusual, he is just a spaz like always.” 

“Eric get back to work!” Their teacher joins, suddenly awake but he walks out without a look behind.

At lunch, Tweek comes into the cafeteria with everything behind his blank expression. Weirdly, Cartman is at his side but it seems necessary to guide Tweek by his absent look.

Tolkien is too distracted to notice anything else about it because of the mass of wavy blond curls at his usual table, just irking him in that way. He tries to not dig his feet in the floor but he can’t help it and needs to pause in his tracks. Luckily it can be brushed off as simply waiting for Jimmy to follow up to settle at their usual table for lunch.

His smile is tight but Jimmy doesn’t seem to notice the small bitterness his body has stocked in for Bebe. There is nothing exactly bad about her, Tolkien gets along with her without a problem but sometimes he wants to push her in a hole, because it doesn’t mean he can trust her ‘friendship’ with Clyde.

This is nothing about a supposed jealousy - which is the entire and complete opposite of his case. Nobody needs to be a psychic to see that Clyde gets easily attached. When they were younger, Bebe did use Clyde for her profit twice. Even if she got better about this side of her, he has the right to be a bit suspicious.

“Hi.” She smiles at him and Jimmy, casually sitting between Clyde and Craig. “The lasagna is delicious for once,” she comments when they both settle down.

Tolkien keeps a wary smile, staring down to his plate of warm pasta. He chances a look at Clyde but opts to not dwell on it to dig in his meal.

“What’s going on?” Jimmy asks, sitting down in front of Craig after she signs him to not sit in front of her.

“What?”

“You are sta-staring at everyone.”

“Oh, don’t mind that,” she brushes off with her typical smart-like smile. “Doing my business.”

“What business?” Tolkien adds, deciding to bite the bullet.

“Helping people.”

He doesn’t buy the innocent act but before he can say anything else, she goes back to stare at whoever is passing next to their table.

“Your table has a good spot to see the whole room.”

“Yours too. Could do that over there,” Craig points out - even though he is always taking this particular seat for this whole reason. “You are still fighting with Wendy?”

“No.”

Tolkien watches her relaxed stance, a bit surprised to see that she didn’t get pissed or sarcastic about this comment. When he glances at the usual girls’ table, he spots Wendy looking over.

Except for the show in the corridor, Tolkien has no idea what it is about. There are many gossips trying to uncover the truth but nothing concrete so far. The most popular one is that Bebe slept with someone Wendy wanted to. By the sour look of Wendy it isn’t over.

“But I’m closer to the idiots here.”

All of them peer at the table not far where as usual Stan’s gang sits there. He turns back to face his plate, without missing to throw a look at Craig for him to get back at his meal - otherwise he might dig a hole in Tweek’s face with his staring. He can’t believe this has become a habit for him now.

“What’s going on with them?” Clyde frowns as surprised as his friends.

“I can’t say,” she mutters, squinting. Tolkien supposes she is focused on one of them, probably on Stan and Kyle's usual ordeal but it could also be about Tweek.

He also worries about him. Never has he seen Tweek that unemotional. At least him and Kyle don’t appear to be at each other’s throat, though not quite talking.

“But it’s important business so don’t bother I’m not mov-Lisa!” Bebe jumps on her seat, scaring the artist who passes their table. “Just when I needed you! Do you mind if we eat together?”

She doesn’t wait to stand up with her half-empty trail. The asian girl notices the state of her meal but shrugs with a timid smile, following her.

“Is she crazy, now?” Craig asks.

“Nah, I think she is trying to figure out someone’s crush,” Clyde replies, following Bebe with his eyes.

“Who?” Jimmy chimes in, darting his attention around.

He shrugs because his mouth is full. Tolkien clears his throat and takes out his phone as he decides to change the subject.

“I don’t know if you guys remember, I told you about that concert-”

“Oh— yeah! It’s happening this weekend?” Clyde immediately cheers with sparkling eyes and Tolkien can only smile. “Bro, I thought it was canceled or something.”

“Nah, they just gave the dates really late. If you are up to it we can all go,” he explains, giving his phone before Clyde would try to lean over to see the page of the event. Jimmy leans to have a look too.

Tolkien doesn’t forget about his band. Once he gives all the details to his friends, he turns to get the other table’s attention; Kenny, with his surreal senses, meets him half-way with a grin.

“What’s up?”

“The concert, it’s this Saturday,” Tolkien explains, trying to diminish a bit of the distance by edging the bench. Stan frowns a second before lightening up.

“Your flight is on Sunday,” Kyle confirms the silent question of his friend. They beam at each other.

“I didn’t get the notification,” Kenny mutters in small disbelief, taking out his phone to check it. “What time is it?”

“10,” Clyde cheerfully joins leaning forward on the table, close to his dirty plate.

Tweek only seems to understand what they were talking about when Kenny’s phone is pushed under his nose. He barely lightens up.

They have all waited to go to this concert. Not many concerts are around and this one is free to enter with more than one of their favorite groups, not quite famous but still, are playing. Only the drinks and foods aren’t free plus they will have to sneak in since they are minors.

“Wait, wait,” Cartman cuts with a frown at Craig’s table. “You guys aren’t coming, it’s only the band.”

“Which you aren’t a part of,” Stan comments with disdain.

“What do you mean only the band, we never said that.”

“It’s not like you have someone to bring Kenny, shut the fuck up,” he argues ignoring the tired look Kenny shares with Kyle. “We can’t sneak the fucking whole school in, idiots.”

“Kyle isn’t even in the band and he is coming,” Tolkien retaliates not thinking twice. Stan shoots him an incredulous look just as Kyle glares at him with pure offense.

He knows he shouldn’t have brought up how the two of them are just attached to the hip.

“What?”

“Dude-”

“We just need to take another car!” Kenny joins, shushing Stan when he tries to talk again, “this doesn’t change how we sneak in. Maybe just how we make the groups.”

“What’s the plan?” Jimmy asks before Cartman can snarl.

“Tweek faints in the line and we sneak through a window we have to break. I already went there before, I could even manage to open the back door or something,” he explains, pulling Tweek flush against him with an arm over his shoulder.

Tweek only keeps on munching - Tolkien isn’t even sure he has taken a new bite for minutes now. He is completely ignoring what’s happening around.

“Faint?” Clyde parrots. “You can do that Tweek?”

He only looks up when Kenny nudges him. “Yeah. Sure.” He returns to his meal.

Cartman stares at him like he is close to beating his head against the table but Tolkien opts to fill up the silence.

“Anyway I can drive, we are just three more. It doesn’t change much.”

“Yeah we can get in with no prob’, trust me. Worst case we have a plan B.”

Kyle frowns. “No, we don’t.”

They quickly get focused on that even though Kenny assures he can offer a blowjob to the warden and that would seal the deal. Tolkien doesn’t offer much though he notices that Stan seems engrossed in his thoughts, sometimes glancing at Tweek, before offering empty advice for the plan B.

The rest of the day is the same: unclear and confusing but Tolkien can deal with it. 

“If anyone knows something about who stole the mascot, just tell us so we can settle this down before they look through everyone’s locker,” Wendy calls through the corridor as everyone walks toward the exit of the high school.

She huffs and turns back to put more paper up on the bulletin board.

Tolkien trails his eyes over the track announcing the last meeting of the year for the Support Group. From what he heard about it, mainly from Clyde, most of the good rumors are true about it. He went to one with Bebe once and Tolkien supposes that he was too insecure to go alone out of curiosity. Himself never really wanted to go there though he can see that it helps people sometimes.

“So,” Wendy lets out, patting the paper with pride before turning to meet his eyes. She has waited for the corridor to be less crowded to speak. “Bebe didn’t say anything— at all?”

He feels bad for her to mumble like this. Without wanting to push her to tell more about Bebe, he only sympathetically smiles.

“Clyde thinks she is after someone’s crush,” he admits as it’s his only information. To him, it’s good that someone as intense and intrusive as her is focusing on something instead of sticking with Clyde. “But I don’t think she really moved on or anything. Though she doesn’t look like she wants to talk with you.”

“I thought she would just, you know, be more dramatic,” she confesses. Tolkien shrugs to not say that she is already a lot. “But that will be done soon. I decided to talk to her this week-end.”

“That’s great,” he comments with a smile widening at hers, “if you get cold feet just call me and I will push you if you want.”

She chuckles. “Do you mind bringing the rest of it with me?” Wendy asks, gesturing to the cartons and flyers around them.

Tolkien had been on his way to the football field for the game before noticing that only Wendy and Patty seem to be taking care of the upcoming vacation by taking off some flyers and putting new ones up. Since he still has time, he picks up a box to follow her to the high school committee room. Patty is taking care of the other side.

“How do you think the ski trip will go?” He brings up on their way. “Frankly, I think Cartman will have an infarctus with his mom and Clyde’s dad.”

“You just gave me a reason to pray,” she replies with a smirk. “I mean some parents come to keep an eye on us but I think nobody will really. From the meetups I saw, they only talked about what the station provides and all— did you know Butters’ class is going too?”

“What?” Tolkien looks up surprised as he places the box on the large tables. “Really? At the same time as us?”

She nods. “I told Butters about it, I thought we could include him since he had started his year here but he told me his class also has a ski trip planned. Turns out it’s at the same ski station. I think there are more high schools too, by the look of it. You know they lower the price to get people so it looks popular when it’s just massive groups of people.”

He can picture how insane this trip will be. In the first place he expects at least for Kyle or Cartman to get hurt - by each other or not. Jimmy will be disappearing all day because he saw someone interesting and Tolkien will look after Craig to remind him to look in front of him instead of gawking like a child. At least Clyde would have been manageable but now he will probably befriend people around. Tolkien decides might stay around Stan for the trip before he remembers that he will probably moop because of Davíd and Kyle.

“At least Kenny will be happy to see Butters.”

“Boyfriends vacation,” she agrees with a chuckle. “By the way— what’s going on with Tweek? Heidi told me why he has a weird cut in his hair. And I swear Cartman made him cry this morning.”

“What?” Tolkien startles. “Cartman did what?”

“They were talking outside, I saw them through the window and Tweek was crying while he just talked next to him. He didn’t seem to be screaming but– he spotted me and when I reached their spot they had already left.”

He frowns. It is definitely after they had both left the class but Tolkien doubts Cartman bullied Tweek - if anything Tweek showed many times that he can handle him. Though right now, he seems in a bad place at the moment and it wouldn’t be surprising for Cartman to jump on the occasion.

“It’s,” he pauses to purse his lips, “typical of him. I already asked Kenny and Stan but I will do it again because it’s freaking me out a bit. They definitely know what’s going on. I don’t even know what happened with Kyle and if he even speaks with Tweek.”

“It’s weird, right?”

“He does act weird. All of a sudden,” Tolkien agrees, following her out of the room.

“Maybe it’s just— a period. Like when you are paranoid about something.”

“Okay but he doesn’t seem that scared. He… does random stuff.”

Wendy stares at the lockers, weighing the options before walking down the corridor. Tolkien checks his watch before following since he still has some time before the football game starts.

“Well, Tweek ate all the pages of a book once in kindergarten.” He is a bit deafened by the news, incredulous at her huge memory and how it doesn’t seem that impossible to have happened. “It’s not like he ever acted, like not unexpectedly.”

“Hum, so— you don’t think we should worry?”

“No, I do but-” she purses her lips. “Look.” Stopping in the corridor, she looks around before taking a deep breath and worrying her bottom lip. “I talked with him last week. On Friday. And I think I might have triggered something.”

He blinks and a sigh leaves him at the small relief that there is really something - anything they could maybe help with. Hopefully.

“I didn’t think he would have identity issues too,” Wendy mumbles lower than necessary.

Tolkien stares at her, promptly closing his mouth. “I didn’t know you— do,” he quietly admits. With a bit of boldness he braces his hand against her shoulder.

“Do you want to talk about it? Or should I know something? ”

He feels a bit lost and doesn’t have the time to ponder if asking for pronouns is the right time.

“I’m trying.” Wendy sort of grimaces. “I’m not sure yet and it’s really weird— look, let’s just focus on Tweek. I can handle myself. I just didn’t expect for everything to blow up in my face before I could figure-”

She jumps at a ringtone before releasing a sigh when Tolkien realizes it’s his phone.

“Sorry, it’s Clyde. About the footbal game,” he explains after checking the call.

Wendy shakes her head. “It’s alright. I think Kenny is still around. We could catch him before it starts.”

“Yeah, okay, good idea,” Tolkien promptly agrees but still signs that he will pick up his phone.

With a nod she walks away and takes out her own phone. The first thing Tolkien recognizes over the phone is the tumult that always happens in the locker room before any game, not even a second after he answers the call he hears Clyde’s familiar excited gasp. Tolkien braces himself for his happy speech as he follows Wendy with a reasonable distance.

“Tolkien! Where are you? The game is in— like five seconds and I know you aren’t here because Jimmy passed with Craig and,” he pauses and Tolkien smiles, “wait, wait, wait, you have no idea what happened. I thought Stan and Davíd were going to fight!”

“What? Why?”

“Because— no wait, where are you?”

“I’m on my way, I just helped Wendy and the committee on the way,” he explains and turns with Wendy after she seems to shoot him a confident look in this direction.

He hears Clyde grumbling before the noises in the background quiets down, probably went somewhere quieter.

“What’s this about Stan and Davíd?”

“Oh my God! They just— I don’t know, looked at each other? And then they talked between them and I’m pretty sure Davíd mentioned Kyle because Stan just had this bitch face all of a sudden. And you know, I would have interfered if they really went to fight— don’t laugh!” For his defence, Tolkien only snorts. “But another guy on the team, number 4, an ass.”

“Yeah, the one who can’t use deodorant and always says something about vaginas.” He has no idea how but he just knows Clyde is grinning.

“Yeah! That ass!” Clyde cheers before lowering his voice, “this dude said something like no time for a queer fight here, which is a bit homophobic, right?”

“Sounds like it.”

“Davíd told him to fuck off and learn how to play before speaking and Stan just ignored him. In the end they didn’t fight but— do you think they would have? It has to be about Kyle and Davíd, right? Maybe it was to say that Kyle comes to the game to cheer on him and not on Stan! I didn’t think he was the type to go and piss off someone.”

“I don’t think he would have tried that when Kyle and Stan are talking,” Tolkien comments before slowing his tracks when he spots that Wendy found Kenny. “Look, we talk after the game. I gotta hang up.”

He could hear that he stopped Clyde’s thoughts, maybe a bit abruptly, but if Tolkien wants to be here in time for the game he needs to talk with Wendy and Kenny now.

“Oh, okay, yeah.”

“Kick their asses, I’m only coming to watch that,” he quips and smiles at his laugh.

“What’s up lover boy?” Kenny chimes in from his spot on the ground next to the music room doors, as if guarding them, with a math notebook on his laps. 

Tolkien hangs up, glancing at Wendy who has her arms crossed.

“What are you doing?”

“Trying to figure out this math shit for my sis’,” he explains showing the middle school cover.

Tolkien tries to not think much of it. He is aware that Kenny doesn't look for people to recognize what he does for his family and if anything it seems to irk him. Still, he is mesmerized how strong and present he is for his siblings.

“I know you stole the costume of the mascot Kenny— again,” Wendy says, probably because he has tried to change the subject. Her disapproving frown is answered by one of his grins. “We have the winter break in 5 days and PC will freak out if it isn’t back.”

He rolls his eyes with a silly smirk. “Come on, it’s not me.”

“I know it’s you. Each year you scare Tweek with it.”

At that, Kennt loses his fake innocence to snort and falls into chuckles with few nods. “He jumps like a cat! Of course I would do that again.”

“We need it back before the vacation,” she insists - holding his gaze with a stern judgement.

Kenny rolls his eyes after holding her gaze before shrugging. “Alright, I will give it back after I scared him.”

Tolkien really doesn’t think it is the right thing to do this kind of joke with someone as paranoid as Tweek but he could always punch Kenny back.

She sighs. “Anyway— Kenny, you need to tell us what’s happening with Tweek,” she pointedly continues.

Kenny glances up from his book.

“What?”

“Tweek,” Wendy reminds. “It’s obvious that something is going on and we really need to know.”

“About what? If you guys got into a fight with him it’s your problem, not mine,” he taunts. “And I’m betting on his ass, no offence Wendy.”

“None taken.”

“We are talking about his whole really weird behavior,” Tolkien explains once they work that out. “Did you see he cut his hair? I’m sure he wouldn’t have stopped if Heidi and I hadn’t been here.”

Kenny frowns and shrugs with an amused smile.

“He just wants a new look, what’s wrong with that?”

“It’s clearly not that,” Wendy exclaims, “I saw him cry with Cartman, or because of him. I don’t know. It’s your friends!”

They don’t need to comment on how Cartman is still stuck with them after all those years.

“Cartman didn’t make him cry,” he replies, which is a short relief. “Once in a while, he can be tolerable. It's rare, it happens. But I’m not going to stop you if you want to kick his ass.”

“Just tell us what’s going on with Tweek, it looks like it’s not nothing.”

Kenny laughs it off and nods. “Okay, okay!” He exclaims, closing the book to open it at the blank of one cover. “I will explain but it’s easier if I draw it.”

“What?”

“I don’t think it’s useful.”

“Yes it is,” he retorts just as took his pen back.

Tolkien checks his watch and wonders if he can even see the beginning of the game. He frowns at his bandmate.

“Why aren’t you at the field? You aren’t watching Stan play?”

“Nah, we’re all busy today,” he shrugs, continuing to draw.

“Kenny, seriously, you could just explain,” Wendy halts when the drawing starts to take shape. “Is that— are you drawing Tweek as a baby chick?”

“Yeah.”

“Kenny, you are just drawing fursonas,” Tolkien complains when he recognizes what seems to be an ushanka on a cat.

“That’s not fursonas,” she quickly disagrees.

Kenny shot a mocking grin at Tolkien. He huffs and prefers to not continue on the subject.

“Seriously, why are you drawing?”

“You were the one asking me to explain! I try to make it as simple as I can,” he argues.

“Is Stan a dog or a wolf?” Wendy whispers and Tolkien brushes a hand through his hair. “I picture him as a bunny-”

“Are you the one drawing, Wendy? No.”They share a short glance before he turns around his book to show them both his drawings. “So that’s us.”

It isn’t bad in itself, pretty drafty but still making no sense except for Kenny to prank them by drawing his friends as animals.

“Where are you?”

“I’m God, obviously. Everything and nothing.”

“And Cartman?”

“He doesn’t fit in the page, duh.”

“Why is Kyle— squishing Tweek with a paw?” She guesses.

Tolkien feels like an idiot when he isn’t even talking.

Kenny glances at his drawing.

“Because he looks squishy.”

Tolkien sighs. “Seriously, what’s the drawing for? Tweek is— their baby?” He tries with a tired glance.

“Style’s baby. Though with me it’s S-”

“Kenny, we are serious!”

“I want to know what’s wrong with him, it’s seriously bad, right?” Wendy cuts to his relief.

Kenny only smugly raises his eyebrows and aims a finger on his art.

“Look— they are his dads and I’m God.”

If Tolkien wasn’t tired already, he is now. There is not much Tolkien could digest before having a headache. It’s why in the first place Tolkien doesn’t understand how Tweek has decided to join them; if anything Tweek wants to avoid problems and the usual craziness of Stan’s gang. They are nice but a lot which is why it’s so surprising that they got along that much. He has no idea how they even started their friendship.

"You are the smart guys," Kenny taunts.

"I'm sure that Tweek definitely doesn't like to appear like a baby," Wendy comments, watching Kenny's drawing one more time before taking it. “He isn’t one even if you guys picture him like your— protégé.”

"That's because you never saw him eating candies. Why do you think we don't let him eat stuff with too much sugar? He doesn't get to sleep after," he argues. "Once he had a sugar crash and we had to carry him back from the fair."

“Okay so what, you adopted him?” Tolkien asks. He just needs to remind the subject and Wendy will finish it off. “He is— under your care or something?”

Kenny shrugs, making his friend almost gape at him in frustration.

“I’m just drawing the obvious. But anyway, we are handling it. We know the Tweek stuff. If you say anything wrong you will just set my boy off.”

Wendy freezes at that before slowly handing back the book.

Tolkien decides to not glance at her, aware that she didn’t mean for her talk to affect Tweek. He doesn’t want to make her feel more guilty.

“I talked to him,” she admits.

Kenny stays silent for a beat. “When?”

“Friday, after— me and Bebe’s scene.” She glances with a tight smile that falls in a grimace. Tolkien rubs the top of her back. “I didn’t think it would affect him, but since Nichole told me he was really hammered at the party— I think it’s because I talked to him,” she continues but Kenny doesn’t show any sort of accusation.

“I think I triggered him.”

Kenny purses his lips before shrugging. “What did you talk about?”

“I didn’t mean to make him feel bad,” she interrupts.

Tolkien glances at her, unsure of where all of this was going, as he tries to find something reasonable to avert the sudden attention from her.

“I know, Wendy,” Kenny slowly confirms before offering a small smile.

“I,” she pauses before scrubbing her eyes with a hand. “He tried to cheer me up and we ended up talking.” Wendy wets her lips before regretfully glancing at Kenny. “I’m not comfortable with my skin— gender, in general. It’s-it’s still really complex.”

“Oh,” he lets out with a clear surprise but it doesn’t hold him long. “You prefer they slash them, maybe? You know you just had to say something.”

“I-” Wendy falls silent.

Tolkien purses his lips but briefly wonders if they aren’t pushing too much. At least the corridor is still theirs. There aren’t many chances for someone to walk on them.

“For now, yeah. It’s not definitive,” Wendy stammers before closing up.

“Like anything is,” Kenny snorts and stretches on his ass before flopping down. He looks perfectly comfortable even though they are only talking about touchy subjects.

“Honestly, aren’t you just thinking too much about it? You just follow the good feeling until you get it. Nobody with a real brain will mind what gender you are, Wendy.”

His argument doesn’t seem to completely work.

“It’s just not easy.”

Kenny cocks an eyebrow, looking almost challenging, before glancing at the other.

“Maybe you did trigger Tweek, I mean he thinks too much like you two-” Tolkien doesn’t understand how he is a part of it now—”always thinking about others and the whole fucking world instead of just looking at yourselves.” Wendy stays quiet and himself feels a bit puzzled at the accusation. “You wanna be a boy, just be one and if you really want a dick go for it. I mean, think about the surgery and all but when it’s something that’s between you and only you I don’t understand why you have to— I don’t even get why that would make that effect on Tweek. What did you even say? Did you talk about parents?”

“No?” They answers. “I mostly talked about how I feel. And a bit of what’s going on with Bebe but I don’t see how that would make him, just, flip.”

“Oh geez,” Kenny grimaces. “That sucks.”

Tolkien sees Wendy’s guilt burning on their cheeks.

“So I did it?”

“Nah,” he dismisses as he stands up with the book in his hand. “Look, Tweek is like a— a bomb.” Kenny freezes as he shoves it in his bag. A conflicted look washes over him before he quietly zips his bag close with less energy.

“No, he won’t like this image but like he forgets that he can talk to us sometimes. That’s what happened, I think. Now he just exploded and his usual self blew up to let him be careless and well— grumpy.”

“Grumpy? He punched Kyle,” Tolkien comments and Kenny only laughs.

“Yeah, that,” he snickers, “Kyle saw it coming. Tweek doesn’t trust psychologists but Kyle thinks he should at least try one. They already fought about that before. As long as no one bites it’s alright.”

“Bite?” Wendy cuts a bit baffled. “That’s a thing?”

“You don’t want to know how it started,” Kenny solemnly states.

“If it can reassure you, Tweek has less of those kinds of crises over time. Now we just have to wait when he opens up, we know how to deal with him.”

Tolkien just adds it to his list of stuff he needs to discover.

“So, you want us to do nothing?” He tries, still unsure.

“Yeah.” He shrugs his backpack up. “I mean, you still can ask how he is and all. I’m sure it makes him feel better even if he acts like a bitch, just don’t be surprised if he snaps. He always thinks he is the worst monster after that so he will apologize a lot.”

“That’s not what I want,” Wendy frowns. “Seriously, we can’t do something about it?”

Kenny sort of smiles but it’s clearly out of sympathy. “Nah. Right now he must be playing Red Dead Redemption 2, all cowboy you know,” he snorts. “He needs his alone time, sort of. Kyle is a bit too— yeah, look, I’m sure before the weekend he will feel better. Tweek is more sensible than others and always thinks he can keep everything his whole life in his head.”

Kenny makes an exploding sound before Wendy tells him it isn’t that funny. Tolkien isn’t sure if it is the right thing to do but feels a bit useless, and from what Kenny said, it makes sense for them to listen to his advice.

“Alright.”

Without a warning, Kenny hugs Wendy who huffs in shock. He pats their head as they shoot a surprised look at Tolkien who only smiles. They comfortably returns the gesture.

“Don’t worry. And don’t think too much, if someone gives you shit about it just kick their asses. Plus I like the short hair on you, super hot.”

Wendy shoots a disbelieving look but cracks into a small smile. “Thanks.”

“And for Tweek we got him a surprise that will cheer him up. We know how to look after him when he doesn’t.”

Tolkien only really pays attention to this precious sentence- one that Craig holds on feverishly ever since he lost his hundred dollars for one of his birthdays. Although he doesn’t agree or disagree, the thought that he shouldn’t trust any words from Stan’s gang only becomes relevant to him when he spots a duck in the corridor.

Innocently, he realized when they found Kenny that he should start to take all his stuff from the music room as soon as he can - he has a lot to bring back home. It’s not unsafe during the break but Tolkien would rather make the trip than not. Only the necessary is needed for the two last band sessions so he opts to start now.

Tolkien backtracks in the corridor, watching the duck strolling in the middle of it. It shakes his feathers and quacks.

With a sigh, he takes out his phone to dial Kenny. At the lack of response he tries Stan, though he is unsure if he’s already out of the locker room but something tells him he is definitely related to the duck.

“Why is there a duck at school?” He asks as soon as his call is answered.

The other side of the line is silent before he hears violent shuffles.

“Tolkien found the duck!” Stan exclaims.

“What the fuck— you really brought this duck here?!”

Tolkien hears Kenny shout in the back to catch the bird. He passes a hand on his forehead, wondering where in his life did he go wrong. His eyes cautiously follow the duck tottling away.

“We are coming,” Stan says, “just don’t lose the duck. It’s important.”

Tolkien can hear them running.

“Why would you get a duck here, Stan. Why?” He bedrugindly steps until he can see the bird again, now looking in another corridor before walking further. “PC is going to kill you.”

“You didn’t even notice the duck until now!”

Halting on his observation, Tolkien takes a breath before talking.

“What do you mean I didn’t notice it before? Since when-” he pauses when he hears footsteps at the other side of the corridor.

Stan and Kenny appear, startling the duck who quacks and rushes away with flapping wings. Tolkien hungs up and dashes to them.

“Since when do you have this duck?”

Stan shrugs sheepishly while Kenny tries to grab the duck, which surprisingly goes well since the bird doesn’t fly away. If anything the bird seems very peaceful.

“We stole it last night. We washed them and keep them in the back of the music room-”

“You stole it?!”

“Adopted them is the right word,” Kenny says with a wicked smirk. Tolkien realizes the duck is staring at him and decides to cautiously ignore it.

“Why?”

“Because the pony didn’t fit in the car,” Stan explains, petting the bird.

Tolkien tries to not have a headache and to not give up on them right away.

“Why would you put a pony in your car?” He articulates.

“To adopt it.”

“Yeah.”

“I’m really trying here,” Tolkien bitterly says. “Why the fuck would you want a pony, now?”

“Dude, because Tweek loves cowboys,” Kenny states and just for the sake of it lifts the duck toward Tolkien’s face. “I told you we had a plan.”

Carefully pushing the animal away, he takes another steady breath. “You tried to steal a pony for Tweek? And instead took a duck.”

“Didn’t fit in the car.”

“So we took a duck,” Stan continues and gets to carry the prize.

Tolkien doesn’t know if he should be surprised because of the peacefulness of the duck or that their idea seems semi-coherent for him.

“Tweek loves birds.”

“And stealing him a duck is supposed to make him feel better?”

“Obviously. But if PC caught us we are dead so let’s hide,” Kenny points out by grabbing Tolkien’s forearm and dragging him toward the music room.

He sighs, following them as he glances at his phone. Without having any idea for an excuse to give to his friends about his - clearly - abduction, he opts to just say to not wait up for him and if he can he will join his friends after. He doesn’t forget to turn the notifications off to not be tempted to see the sad answers he will get.

“Kyle knows about the duck?” Tolkien asks after Stan placed the new pet on the scene and Kenny goes rummaging somewhere.

“Well, he had his own plans for Tweek-”

“On Minecraft,” Stan comments with a clear pout.

“So he just hung up on us when we tried to tell him we were going to steal a pony,” Kenny finishes, pushing stuff around behind the stage.

“I’m pretty sure he would have told you not to do it.”

“Come on, we are brilliant!” He laughs before showing up with the head of the high school's cow mascot. “Tweek always wanted a pet and he is like— connected to birds.”

“He is what?” Tolkien stares at him, putting on the massive head.

“He told us about the canary he had before, sometimes we could see it when he switched his cam on,” Stan explains sitting down on the scene. The duck just calmly walks toward a big cardboard box that Tolkien notices only now. “Well, he told us he just talked to it, chirped, and he is comfortable around birds too.”

He does have a faint memory that Tweek had a bird around his ten years old but never heard much of it. Tolkien decides to ignore Kenny putting on the rest of the mascot costume.

“So you stole a duck instead of, I don’t know, buying him another canary?”

“Dude, did you see how cute the duck is?” Stan frowns and gestures to the duck who seems to try to flip the box around. “Tweek will like them.”

“Them?”

“Don’t assume gender,” Tweek calls, a bit muffled in the enormous cow head.

“It looks like a boy by the feathers,” Tolkien comments.

“Maybe he wants to be a girl!” He argues and walks behind him, just next to the doors.

Stan ignores them to call the bird with small chirp-like noises. Tolkien frowns when Kenny stays on his spot before taking a deep breath.

“Don’t tell me you are hiding because Tweek is going to show up soon.”

“Maybe.”

“Doesn’t he work?”

“No, he ditched the rest of the day and the coffee shop,” Stan explains, handing some sort of snacks to the duck.

Tolkien ignores their antics and gathers some of his stuff in his bag. If he stays any longer he knows he will need to lay down. He only realizes that Tweek shows up when Kenny screams - making him shriek before he swats him with a quick punch. The duck quacks in horror.

The two wrestle for a moment until Stan tells them to stop being so loud. The duck rushes toward the back of the stage in panic and Tolkien might have tried to pet it to reassure it.

“PC isn’t going to find us, relax!” Kenny exclaims after avoiding another kick from Tweek.

He laughs just as his friend throws his backpack in his face, making him crash in the piled chairs behind him as the head of the costume falls. Kenny tries to drag him down but probably fails because of the costume.

“Guys stop!” Stan hisses, jumping down from the stage.

Tolkien focuses on cleaning his stuff while Kenny’s laugh fills the space. The duck quacks, startling him as they hop down from the stage. He doesn’t understand how the bird isn’t trying to fly away or just straight attack them.

“We got a duck!”

“What?” Tweek squeaks and seems to shrink upon the realization Tolkien is here.

He still tries to smile in a hope to reassure him but Tweek hears another quack and tries to see where it’s coming from.

Tolkien hesitates before deciding he could probably manage to carry the duck too. He still lets the bird free as soon as the webbed feet are placed down on the scene. Tolkien doesn’t know anything about birds in general - but he never thought someone would just fall in love with a duck. It’s what it’s.

Twenty minutes after the duck quacks and Tweek parrots, they are still bonding. Tolkien didn’t think Stan was completely serious when he had told Tweek knows birds until he saw him - completely relaxed - petting the duck.

At least, it’s established that they did steal the duck from a farm but Tweek either ignores it or is just too absorbed by the duck who starts to pinch his shirt. Tolkien believes it wags its small feathery butt just like dogs do when they are happy. He feels like he is going to read about ducks tonight.

Stan and Kenny’s plan is almost flawless. The small hiding spot where they stuffed a sort of cushion in the music room is almost unnoticeable behind instruments and boxes. Except for their band and the acapella group, nobody really hangs out here. The marching band uses the main hall and if they come in here it’s only to store stuff.

None of them really think of getting out of here, even Tolkien loses himself in the weird bonding moment until PC Principal walks in. Neither of them thought that someone could hear ‘weird noises’ and report it. He recognizes one girl of the acappella group, properly shocked to see them until she seems to be sorry for them with a glance at their principal.

PC Principal never really left them. The man, with Strong Woman, has created a whole program of Politically Correct education that started with their class and would follow them until high school. Hence how they had been stuck with the same principal over the years. He isn’t that bad; just a bit intense and sometimes going overboard for things that aren’t that offensive. Tolkien has lost count of how many times he has ended up in his office to be sure someone isn’t racist with him. Somehow, he is his favorite black student.

“McCormick I thought we already went through why you can’t borrow the mascot every year,” he sternly points out after they all end up sitting in his office. The man likes to touch the pictures on his desk now that he has kids before talking.

“It’s not like I don’t give it back,” he argues.

Tolkien glances at his friends. Tweek hasn’t let go of the duck, who is perfectly nestled on his laps even if PC asked him to not bring it in.

He believes the man doesn’t have the guts to call Tweek off when he looks all innocent. Not many adults believe that Tweek punched a guy in the guts, Tolkien still doesn’t even have an idea why he did it.

PC Principal just sighs and leans against his seat, crossing his arms. “Tolkien, are you an accomplice in this?”

“In what?”

“In the hiding of a wild animal within the school.”

With a quick look at the duck, Tolkien wonders if he can even try to explain how he ended up in this.

“I didn’t know until now.”

Their principal stays silent before lowering his gaze on Stan who has crossed his arms once they sit down.

“Stanley— did you or did you not persuade your friend to hide an animal here?”

He squirms until his frown deepens. “We didn’t plan to keep it here,” he grumbles.

“I thought we were already clear why no place here is suited to shelter animals, even if they are going to be transformed into meat for us,” PC reminds as Stan groans and pinches the bridge of his nose. “I don’t want to deal with another group of cows hidden in the gymnasium Marsh.”

Tolkien almost forgot about that ‘incident’ in 10th grade.

“It’s a duck!”

“Is there really only one duck?” He admonishes.

“Yeah, it’s my duck,” Tweek replies.

Stan lets out a small victorious ‘see’ before crossing his arms back.

PC slowly sighs and passes a hand on his eyes once he gets his sunglasses off. He is probably deciding if it’s worth giving detention when there is only one Saturday morning left.

“Who brought the duck here?” They all stay quiet. “It’s not the place to bring wild animals-”

“He isn’t wild,” Tweek argues, bringing the duck closer against his chest.

Tolkien feels a bit better to see Tweek isn’t as quiet as he was; though it’s probably not the best time for him to speak up either.

“It’s still a duck,” PC disagrees, “it doesn’t have a place here. This place isn’t a zoo-”

“Yet here you are,” Tweek spits out.

Tolkien holds his breath as PC’s eyes bulge out. Stan slowly raises a hand over his face. He doesn’t dare to look at any of them but if the tension filling the room is anything to go by—then Tweek is certainly holding his gaze against PC with sharp defiance.

“Tweak— stay here. You three can leave for now.”

They all hesitate. Since no one is ready to cut the stare between PC Principal and Tweek, the three of them awkwardly glance at each other before standing up and walking out.

Kenny is the first one taking a seat before hiding a small laugh behind his hands. Stan glances at the door and turns to him.

“Don’t laugh, he can hear us.”

“Tweek just-” Kenny stifles a cackle behind a fist but his laugh is legitimate.

Stan is obviously hiding one of his by taking deeper breaths. Tolkien quietly sat down, biting on his own chuckles as he tries to figure out what is appropriate to feel between his admiration and worriness. He would have never thought Tweek would reply like that. He knows he could but not to PC Principal face to face.

“He’s going to get months of detention.”

“Are you kidding me?” Kenny snorts. “He’s just going to tell him to calm down, Tweek looks too innocent for them.”

“What? It’s PC,” Tolkien reminds with a frown. “He isn’t going to let it go like that.”

He shrugs back. “The dude has kids now, he is probably asking what’s wrong.” With a smirk he tilts his head against the wall. “Tweek did so many things that you guys wouldn’t believe it— why do you think I always try to convince him to dress up as an imp during Halloween?"

“Because you’re a kinky bastard,” Stan comments, typing on his phone.

“What did he do?”

“That’s for us to know and you to never find out.”

Tolkien decides to drop it; it would be worth it to insist but he has better chances to know through Tweek once he feels better. He tries to hear what is happening in the office - if Tweek has another outburst or PC is telling him how deep in trouble he just got himself. There is nothing, not even the sound of a duck.

“Are you texting Kyle?” Kenny asks after crossing his legs with a wide distance. “Tell him I can’t wait for us to get together over the break without that third wheel named Stanl-”

“Fuck you,” Stan replies with a soft shove that made them both chuckle for a second. He still swats him on the shoulder with the clear intent to be a sharp warning.

Tolkien can’t believe the whole Kyle and Stan business hasn’t already ended in tears or rainbows.

“What happened before the game?” He asks. “Clyde told me you and Davíd were going to fight.”

“What?” Kenny joins, leaning curiously to be right under Stan’s face, who uncomfortably turns his head away.

“We didn’t fight, we just talked— he came to me about Kyle.”

Kenny smiles and slaps a hand at the other side of Stan’s shoulders.

“About what? Did you make them break up?” Tolkien wonders because he is obviously missing something here.

Both turn at him, looking funny for a beat before Kenny cracks into another laugh and Stan slightly blushes.

“Uh, well,” he pauses after a hand flies to brush his neck, “we are dating.”

He blinks. Kenny retrieves his breath but still looks deeply amused.

“Who?”

Stan purses his lips and seems to go for a shrug but stops. “Kyle and me.”

“You are getting so red right now,” Kenny wickedly whispers before Stan does turn red and tries to push him out of the bench.

Tolkien watches, trying to find a memory of any change of behavior between the Super Best Friends. He did notice that Kyle and Davíd were not together anymore; most people believe it’s a sort of break. For a second he feels as insensible as anyone else who just can’t help themselves to look into other people’s life.

“Are you kidding?”

“What? No,” Stan retorts with a small frown. “Of course we are!”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he clarifies at the hint of hurt. “It’s just that— you guys didn’t change much. I thought you would be, I don’t know,” Tolkien pauses because there isn’t much beyond the original closeness between those two, “I thought you two would be flirting all over the place.”

“You didn’t see them this morning hiding to make out-” before Kenny can laugh, his friend elbows him with a sharp shush.

“We are trying to keep it a secret,” Stan explains, “the whole town wouldn’t have left us alone.”

True.

“How long?”

“Almost a month or so.”

Tolkien smiles at his shyness but decides to not say more about it.

“The whole school would probably make a parade or something.”

“I would if I got Kyle’s sweet ass.”

“Shut up Kenny.”

Tolkien could agree with Kenny but doesn’t want the troubles. He has only checked once Kyle’s ass to see if the rumor wasn’t exageratted.

“It’s so fucked up here. Especially now that the Asian girls have a club and just get more people all the time.”

“Hey, it’s fun,” Kenny argues.

“Shut up, I know you told them to write and draw stuff about me and Kyle. Don’t think I will forget that,” he roughly warns. “They have too much power.”

“Karen ships you guys! And I can’t ask Leo for drawings anymore,” he explains all matters-of-factly with a fake chastity.

Tolkien wonders how he could feel so at ease with people shipping him. Even if most of the time it's legit - a lot of people believes there is something between Kenny and Tweek.

“Why not? You still try to avoid him?” He asks with an arched eyebrow.

“No-”

“Yeah he still is.”

“I’m not avoiding him! I just try to act like a friend,” Kenny argues, now without any shadow of amusement. “Why is one understanding that I stay away because it's better for him?”

Tolkien doesn't think it's a good idea to tell him now that Butters will also be here on the ski trip.

“Because it’s bullshit. Did you even try to talk about it with him?”

“Oh yeah, sorry, Stanley,” he drawls back with a roll of eyes, “I forgot you are now a relationship expert.”

“Don’t fight when we are right next to PC’s office,” Tolkien reminds when he notices that Stan won't stay quiet. They fight for a second on the bench with quick nudges before he decides to speak again. “But I'm happy for you Stan. And Kyle.”

He takes a second before beaming. “Thanks.”

“What about you?” Kenny inquires, making a small sign of the head to pin Tolkien in his spot. “How is your crush doing?”

“I don’t have one. It’s not really a crush or anything.” Tolkien can't find words to explain that particular feeling - about that specific person that gave him a blowjob just days ago. “I would know if it’s a crush. I’m not sure, I think I’m just interested in some way.”

With a glance he could see they don't really get it; himself doesn't. It frankly upsets Tolkien ever since him and Clyde got that one touch that destroyed that thin border. He still can't quite wrap his head around it.

“You guys are wrecks.”

Kenny is in a way right. For a second, he thinks it could help to find the good words by trying to explain it to them two. Before he can articulate any dusts of it, Tweek steps out of the office with PC following out.

“McCormick you have detention this Saturday morning for the mascot.”

“Seriously?”

“And you two, next time it’s the same, especially you Marsh,” PC warns to Stan and Tolkien, “you all can go now.”

Kenny groans as they all leave the bench.

“Goodbye Principal,” Tolkien says with a faint polite smile while the rest just sort of nod and walk away.

Tweek pets the duck, held by one arm, as he walks - looking at peace with his pet.

“What did he say? You okay?” Stan asks once they are out Principal’s earshot. “Did you get more detention?”

“Just the same stupid things.” Tolkien stares at him before glancing at the other two. By the look of it, that is the only thing they would get out of the conversation. “I can’t bring the duck home,” Tweek mutters.

“What? Why not?”

He frowns but doesn't speak. They continue toward the exit of the school. Tolkien hesitates to take out his phone to text his friends, but opts to wait.

“They don’t want you to have a pet?” Tolkien supposes.

Tweek tenses. “I don’t want them to see the duck.”

“I could take him-”

“Them.”

Stan shoots a look at Kenny before focusing back in Tweek. “I could take them if you want. Until this Sunday, though. I have my flight."

“Your dad might going to do something weird,” Tweek disagrees and stops on his track once they step outside.

Tolkien shuffles around to get his scarf out of his bag when they all gravitate back to the blond. If he was familiar enough with Tweek’s mood, he would be able to read whether his eyes are really watery or infinitely sad.

Tweek glances at Stan who is bitting his bottom lip.

“Yeah,” he admits, “he might try to gets eggs or something.”

“What about Stark Ponds?”

“Are you crazy?” Tweek jumps with a twitch. He hugs the duck, who simply quacks between some words. “Someone might shot them!”

“We need a name for the duck,” Kenny points out.

“A house first,” Tolkien points out before realizing Tweek is looking straight at him.

“I can keep them over the break. My parents are leaving for it,” he slowly explains before glancing at his duck and back at him.

“They leave you alone for Christmas?” Tolkien only catches on where they are going once Stan also turns toward him. They can't believe he is going to shelter the duck. “I have two dogs. They are big too,” he reminds with a guilty feeling blooming.

“You have an indoor pool,” Stan counters.

“It’s small.”

“It has a roof and— look how cute the duck is!” Tweek exclaims, showing the bird closer to him.

Tolkien half-heartedly places a hand on their head before gathering all of his firmness. “I don’t know-”

“I planned to give Sparky’s kennel, you just have to feed them,” Stan explains, fully trying to use his sort-of puppy eyes; Tolkien can see that he is better at it than Clyde. “We will come every day to take care of the duck.”

“I will come by,” Tweek whispers behind the duck’s head.

Tolkien is about to use the parents’ card but he had to shut slack his mouth at the breath spooking him against his ear.

“I dare you to say no,” Kenny definitely threatens.

He says yes.

His parents are the reason he has almost no willpower. It has to be it because they easily agree for this fucked up plan to happen too. They only want to know how they will take care of it before deciding that the bird is too cute to say no. 

“Dude, it’s like summer in here,” Stan comments, biting on his ice-cream.

The duck quacks and paddles in the pool with a happy shake of his tail. Tolkien frowns at his reflection in the water before turning to his own sweet. He feels like he is drunk.

“My mum likes to keep the temperature here a bit warm. It feels like summer because it’s winter outside,” he bedrugdigly explains because they aren't overheating the place. “Since she swims every morning it stays like this.”

“I would also swim every day if I had a freaking pool,” Kenny agrees, before turning to Stan sitting next to him at the edge of the pool. “Why do you have two ice-creams?”

“For Kyle since he comes to pick us up,” he says, glancing at the one left in its paper before quickly fighting Kenny’s grasp who either try to push him or steal it. “Dude!”

Tolkien almost gets hit by them. He scoots over with a sigh and glances at Tweek at his other side.

Tweek is still quiet and even when Kenny launched the idea to get ice-cream, he barely smiled. Tolkien thought this idea was to try to cheer him up but now he is convinced that it's just his friends being hungry. Though it is true that with the temperature of the pool, it feels natural to earn for ice-cream.

He only watches the duck having fun in the pool. All of them have their ankles in the pool but nothing more. Tolkien notices bis two guard dogs sticking to the glass door opening on the garden. He dreads to see if they would try to harm the duck even if they are really sweet under other circumstances. There isn't many option for the duck anyhow and he doubts Stan and Kenny thought this through when they grabbed it.

Tolkien startles when Stan grabs him to not fall in the pool because of Kenny.

“Hey!”

“Asshole!” He punches Kenny's side, who is still snickering before laughing once Stan flips him off and turns to ignore him.

“Let’s go to the beach, bitch!” Kenny exclaims and Tweek cracks into a small mute laugh. “Ninky Minjaj!”

Tolkien glances with a small chuckle to Tweek, who blankly stares at the water before looking around to see the duck.

“Ninky Minjaj.”

“Oh my God! That’s the best name-”

“We aren’t calling the duck Ninky Minjaj!” Tolkien argues with a glare at Kenny.

“I don’t want the opinion of someone who calls his dog fucking Snoopy,” he refutes with a wide grin.

“I think it’s nice,” Stan muses.

“Tolkien.”

He turns to face Tweek. “Thank you for taking care of Ninky until I can," he whispers with tired and fragile eyes.

Tolkien closes his mouth on the absurdity, not able to betray the fragile smile he exchanges with Tweek.

“It’s nothing.”