AN: Awwyeah, final round, let's go! As usual, thank you guys! I love reading your feedback, I really do. Ahh, this fic has just never stopped being fun, I'm a little sad I'm done writing it. Still feeling accomplished, though! I hope you enjoy this chapter, and the conclusion! ALSO: I have altered the rating. (Pray I don't alter it any further.) But, probably don't get too excited. Or worried for that matter. Finally, keep an eye out for the sequel! It'll be called Fish and star Kanye West and pffffhahaha I'm sorry, that was bad. Anyway. Please enjoy!

"Hey Clyde."

"Oh. Hey," Clyde said when Craig sat down next to him. The cafeteria was still filling out with most of the students still waiting in line to get their food, the usual occupants of the four empty seats beside them included. "So, it's getting a little warmer out."

Craig looked outside, through the grouping of windows that took up most of the far wall. "I guess." His eyes remained on the wall. Idly, he twisted open the cap to his drink. "I thought it was kind of cold today."

"Oh, today, yeah," Clyde said. "I was talking about like, in general."

Craig did not respond.

"Because yesterday wasn't bad."

Nothing.

"Like, the sun was out."

Zilch.

"…Think it'll snow again?"

Craig finally looked away from the window, but only to focus on the lunch line. "Probably."

"Yeah." Clyde poked his fork at the green beans on his tray. Why did he even get these? He hated green beans. "We live in Colorado, after all." He ate them anyway.

Pause. "Yeah."

More silence.

"Did you do the homework?" Clyde asked.

"Which?"

"The statistics shit."

"Oh. Yeah."

"Cool. Me too."

Craig stabbed one of his chicken nuggets with a fork, gave it an incomprehensive stare, then pulled it off and dropped it back down. Clyde looked down and grabbed one from his own tray, figuring that shoving it in his mouth was the most effective way to spare them both.

"…How are they?" Craig asked, throwing him off. Clearly he did not want to be spared. Clyde grimaced, chewed faster, and tried to formulate a response.

"Good," he ended up saying. Could he be any lamer? "I mean, it's chicken. Chicken is always good," he elaborated, mostly just to say words, but then Craig got tense and looked away and Clyde realized his foul and also that yes, he could get lamer, very much so.

"Hey guys," Tweek greeted, setting his tray down across from them.

Clyde hadn't really processed his arrival though, not before he was standing up. "Yeeeeahh I have to go to the bathroom."

"Ack! What did I do?!"

Clyde decided that the best thing to do was to just stick to his bathroom agenda and get out of there, not that he'd be able to relieve himself of any of that. He just needed to leave, and come back when it was less awkward. Then he made the mistake of glancing over his shoulder for one last look before his exit to see that Token had joined the table, and now the three of them were leaning in and talking all hush-hush. It would have been whatever, if not for the fact that they were all staring at him.

Oh sure they looked away when they were caught, but fuck, really? Craig looked pissed. What were they talking about? He… he had a bad feeling… he needed to go to the bathroom.

Clyde started down the hall.

"Hey Clyde, wait up!"

Or maybe not.

Clyde turned before he properly placed the voice, then kind of wished he hadn't because it was Kyle Broflovski that was flagging him down.

"Thanks," Kyle said with a brief smile when he caught up to him. Clyde just nodded, like it was fully intentional. "So, um. How are things?" he asked. "I heard that you and Craig were kind of…"

"What?" he asked, challenging.

Kyle deflated. "I don't know, dude. What's going on?"

"Why don't you tell me? I mean, since you guys know everything." Craig would be so proud.

Kyle gave him an irritated look, but took a small breath to clear it away. "Can you just tell me what happened? Maybe we can help."

"You already know what happened, and you already helped," Clyde continued, with little apology. And why should he be sorry anyway?

It really was all Kyle and Stan's fault.

"Wait. Waaaaaait wait wait." Stan had gaped at them the first time he and Kyle saw them after the date, trying to wrap his head around their genius and trickery. "You're saying you're not a couple. You're not gay?"

Craig lifted his chin. "Not in the slightest."

"We had you going the whooole time," Clyde gloated.

Stan and Kyle shared a look like they were sharing data, slowly processing the facts before the entire thing dawned on them completely. Then they looked back at Clyde and Craig.

"No, you didn't," said Stan.

"Yeah, okay," Clyde laughed it off. "Whatever you say, guys!"

"Wow. Can't even accept defeat like a man, can you Marsh?" Craig snickered.

Stan glared. "Yes I-"

"That's not the point here; that's not what we're saying," Kyle said. "You maybe had someone going the whole time, but dudes? It wasn't us."

"Thank you!" Stan exclaimed, as if Kyle was actually making sense.

"What do you mean it wasn't you?" Clyde tilted his head as he asked. "There wasn't anyone else there."

Kyle's hands closed into fists. "Just how fucking delusional are you?"

"Okay, back off," Craig said, smile now gone. "You don't have any idea what you're talking about."

"Oh?" Kyle asked, glare snapping from Clyde to Craig. "Well let's examine this for a minute, shall we? If it walks gay, and it talks gay, and it kisses other dudes, then what would you call it exactly?"

Craig grabbed Clyde's shoulder in a tense plea for restraint, but Clyde stood preoccupied, confidence slipping into more and more uncertainty as he worked out what they were trying to say. "…Gay?"

"Hold on to your hat Kyle, I think we have a winner," Stan said.

"Craig, uh." Clyde hesitated to look over, but he did it anyway. Beyond that, he was at a loss for words.

"You've got it all wrong," Craig scowled at Stan and Kyle as he pulled his hand away. "Were you even listening? This whole thing – it's all just for fun."

"Yeah, no, I get that. Stan and I have a lot of fun heavy petting, too," Kyle shot back. Stan didn't even say anything, just took a step back and crossed his arms, wearing an expression little short of raw satisfaction.

Craig's argument with Kyle escalated to yelling. "We weren't heavy petting, we were light petting!"

"Oh I'm sorry, I forgot how less gay that was!"

"It doesn't even matter because we were pretending to be a couple, you idiots!"

"No, you're just too fucking stupid to realize you are one!"

Craig opened his mouth, but lacked an immediate response to that. If Clyde hadn't been worried before, he definitely was then.

Kyle barreled on. "Jesus Christ you guys, think about it! Five months? Months! And Saturday- don't even get me started. The bullshit might fly for the matching outfits and flowers and shit, but straight guys don't get that into each other at every opportunity! Unless body language was a part of your act too? Or chemistry? What about whatever you guys kept doing at the doorway after we drove off?" Kyle gave Craig a critical stare. Then he turned it on Clyde, who'd already been trying not to sweat.

"Thought so," Kyle said, with absolutely no uncertainty about it. "Well guys, it looks like you have a few things to talk about, so why don't we leave you to it?" He turned expectantly to Stan, who finally turned his smirk away from Craig and Clyde to put his hand low on Kyle's back and turn them around.

As they walked away Stan leaned in close to whisper in Kyle's ear. Kyle paused, and whispered something back. After that they simply continued down the hall to their next class, except instead of turning right they headed straight on to push open the outside doors. Stan's hand sliding lower was the last thing they saw before the couple disappeared to the parking lot.

Leaving Clyde and Craig to each other.

"…Stan and Kyle are idiots," Craig said stiffly.

"Heh, yeah," Clyde managed. "…So I just remembered, I have a, uh, thing-"

"Me too," Craig was quick to reply.

That was all it took for them to disperse, or to attempt to. It would have been more effective if they hadn't both stepped in the same direction – or if they hadn't both screeched to a halt when they realized it.

"I just remembered my thing's actually this way," Craig said.

"Oh, okay cool. Mine's this way still."

"Good- I mean, okay. See you?"

"Yeah! Yeah, see you," Clyde said.

And now here he was, once again in the unfortunate position of facing against Kyle in the hallway. Only this time he was on his own.

"Look Clyde, you can't blame us for not being blind," Kyle said. "Besides, that was like two weeks ago-"

"Three."

"Fine, three weeks ago – don't tell me you still haven't talked?"

"We've talked," Clyde insisted, because it was true. "We talk all the time. We just talked."

"You know what I mean."

"I thought I was fucking delusional."

"Really?" Kyle didn't look impressed at all. "I'd expect this from Craig, but if you're going to keep being an asshole about it then I'm not going to help you."

Clyde blinked. "Seriously? 'Cause that'd be sweet." Hello, downside? Yeah, not seeing you there.

Kyle didn't even bother with the last word, just scoffed, turned around, and stalked his way back to the cafeteria.

Clyde felt both guilty and kind of good about that. Kyle was an okay guy, he just wasn't someone Clyde wanted to deal with right now. Or ever, if he was going to keep bringing up the same stupid thing that was just so- so… where was he? Ah yes, bathroom.

Clyde turned and took a few more steps down the hall.

"Clyde! Can I talk to you?"

And turned right back around. "Token?" He… wasn't quite sure how much he wanted to deal with Token right now either, all things considered, but he played it cool. "'Sup?"

"Nothing much. Were you talking to Kyle just now? What did he want?" Token asked, glancing over his shoulder as he came to a stop in front of him.

"Nothing. What were you talking to Craig about?" he asked in return. It was a little on the blunt side, but he felt kind of justified.

"That was," Token paused, then sighed. "The same thing this is, I guess. Are you and Craig okay, dude?"

Of course it was this. "Why wouldn't we be? We're friends. Just friends," he added, in case he'd been conspiring with Kyle and Stan as Clyde now suspected.

"I know that, but you haven't had to listen to the two of you talk lately. It's… awkward," Token said. "Really, really awkward."

"It is not."

"Come on dude, it's like you guys broke up or something." Clyde flinched, and Token's smile disappeared quicker than it had formed. "That was a joke," he clarified. "But see? That's what I'm talking about! Can we please stop pretending you two aren't off? Ever since you stopped playing the game…"

"Hold on, are you worried about our friendship because we quit making out?"

"Well, it's certainly one way of looking at it."

Jeez, no wonder Craig was pissed. Clyde kind of was too now, though at least some of that was still carrying over from his chat with Kyle. Either way. "It was just a game, Token."

"Seemed serious to me."

"It wasn't."

"You guys need to talk."

"There's nothing to talk about!"

"God, you two!" Token rubbed his head, exasperated. "I get that Craig probably doesn't have any balls but you're supposed to have at least one."

"Wh- sorry?"

"Yeah, you should be. Just have an honest heart to heart, it's not hard! If you're gay, great; if you're really close homoerotic best friends, also great. Just talk to each other about it so we can all go back to normal, please?"

Clyde clenched his jaw. "I'm going to the bathroom now," he said, turning around.

"Fine. Jesus," Token said behind him, before he too started to take steps in the opposite direction. "You're going to have to figure it out eventually, and I'm going to give you so much shit when you do. That is all."

Ugh. So Token was totally conspiring with Kyle and Stan, but whatever; maybe now he could piss in peace.

And he almost made it too, but lo, the hall of ambush striketh once more.

"Clyde!"

"What do you want Stan?" Clyde asked, though at this point he could hazard a guess.

"Dude I know you're probably going through a sexuality crisis or something, but taking it out on Kyle was completely uncalled for when all he was doing was trying to help."

"I'm not having a crisis!" Clyde insisted heatedly. "And if that's all you came out here to say, then quit wasting your time 'cause I've heard it!"

"Actually I have to go to the bathroom," Stan said, "but still, you should make it official already. It was funny at first, now it's kind of sad."

"Craig's not gay, I'm not gay, we are not gay."

"Okay, but really you are."

He was about to tell Stan to piss off, but he was already disappearing into the bathroom for high school cissies. Good riddance. Was he done now? Yes? Good. Clyde set his sights on the men's room, so that he could finally-

"Hey Clyde."

Sonofa- "WE ARE NOT DATING!"

Pause. "Not with that attitude, we're not," Kenny said, both eyes and tone just teeming with suggestion. "Bathroom tryst?"

Clyde sputtered.

"Got it," Kenny laughed. "Hope you and Craig make up soon."

Clyde's skin burned as he failed to respond, opting instead to wheel straight around and power walk back to the cafeteria.

God, what was wrong with everyone today? Or just everyone, in general? Nobody got it at all. Nobody except… damn it. Clyde wanted nothing more than to steal his lame hat and make him chase him for it all the way back to his house so they could sit on the couch and fight over movies and snacks and laugh at how stupid literally everyone was being about them, but it was for that same jacked reason that he just couldn't. It was impossible. Stan, Kyle, Token, probably Tweek, and whoever else; they screwed up everything, ruining it all with assumptions that weren't true. Like. That's why they were called assumptions. They'd flat out told them the truth, multiple times, so what was the problem? What was it about the nature of their relationship that was so difficult to grasp?

And if Clyde maybe looked at Craig sometimes and wondered the same thing, well- well he didn't, so that wasn't even relevant.

It remained irrelevant all that day, and the day that followed. The day after that it was least relevant of all, particularly when Clyde was smashing his face into his blankets to effectively become one with his bed.

It was too early to be tired, but Clyde still entertained the thought of trying to sleep just so he could make the rest of the day disappear. As appealing as the idea was though, deep down, he knew he couldn't. Not like this.

He'd need a pillow first. No, really; he'd collapsed the wrong way entirely. Oh sure, he could get up and flop around so that he was lying on the bed properly instead of backwards, but that would involve getting up, and that was too much effort.

It was a dilemma for sure, but not impossible to work with. Keeping his face firmly planted in his comforter, he maneuvered his feet to wedge the pillow between them. Once he was sure he had it he figured he could just kick up and send it flying straight into his hands, or on his back or head or somewhere else he could reasonably reach for it. He wasn't picky so long as it didn't land on the floor or something – which, from the distinct thwump on his left, is exactly where he'd flung it.

Damnit. So close. Clyde let out a muffled pout, resigning to the fact that he tried, and should really just push himself up now and… nah.

Then his phone vibrated in his pocket, and his eyes snapped open into darkness and scratchy lint. He sat up immediately, trying not to feel too nervous as he dug the phone out of his pocket to check the message.

Getting groceries after close. What do u want for dinner tomorrow

Oh.

Clyde scooted himself against the headboard and texted back something about pizza before continuing to mess around with his phone. As he fiddled his mind wandered, and from there it wasn't long before he found the game document open once more.

A bold score stared back up at him, floating above the list of individual months where Clyde had been declared the winner of February and March was not listed.

Last edit was made on March 1 by Craig T

Clyde stared at that line, knowing it wouldn't change. The first time he'd seen it he changed the settings to read-only for Craig, effectively locking him out of making any more edits in case he had any ideas to come back and delete it all like Clyde feared he might. Not that there was much to erase, it was just…

September (10th-30th): 1-0 CLYDE WINS eat shit Craig
October: 1-1 Suck it.
November: 1-2 See above.
December: 2-2 Craig = gay
January: 2-3 Clyde = gayer
3-4 Stan and Kyle = gayest
February: 4-4

Five months. Or would it be six now? His eyes flickered to the date at the corner of his phone, then widened. Yeah, six months. As of today. Ha.

Ha…

But his exact opinion on that didn't get the chance to form; not before a new piece of information appeared at the top of the document.

1 other viewer

Oh. Well. Look at that. Craig was looking at this right now. Craig could also see that Clyde was looking at this right now. He- He was here.

Clyde's skin crawled just trying to stand this, but he kept staring, kept waiting for the notice to go away. When it didn't he took a deep breath, put down his cursor, and tapped for a new line.

hey look its our 6month rofl

He leaned back a little to observe his work, then decided it would sound better if he deleted 'rofl' and replaced it with 'lmao.' By the time he completed this task he remembered that there was no send button on a document and Craig had seen him type and edit as he typed and edited and sheeeeiiiiit.

To cover it up he started typing more – 'happy aniversary lol jk' – but he was barely into the second word when the viewer number disappeared and two once again became one. Clyde's throat dried a little, but he didn't get water; just closed the document, threw his phone at his fallen pillow, stuck the landing, and mushed his face into his bedding all over again.

This time it lasted all of five minutes before restlessness took over, and he concluded that the most logical way to spend his gayversary was to get an Amulet of Mara in Skyrim and get gay married.

Clyde fired up his high elf and wasted a few hours doing just that without much difficulty, unless you counted figuring out how to get an Amulet of Mara in the first place, running around aimlessly, spending like twenty minutes trying to decide which companion twin was hotter, doing a few side quests he'd forgotten about, propositioning the hotter guy, eating a bunch of cheese to lose weight, missing his wedding because he was attacked by a dragon, getting eternally scorned by his would-be husband, blasting his would-be husband with a fireball to the face out of spite, and dying to the entire wedding company going hostile as a result of said blasting.

He didn't feel like playing after that.

He grabbed his phone from his pillow and grabbed his pillow from the floor, throwing the latter back on his bed and checking the former for new messages. There weren't any.

This time he did get water. Clyde went downstairs, continuing to stare at the screen in case any notifications decided to miraculously appear, but of course they didn't so…

…Damnit, why not?

He slammed his phone face down on the kitchen table and got a drink, emptied it quickly, filled it back up, and clutched it tightly as he sat down.

When did this shit get so real? Like, really? He wanted to go back to the beginning, when everything was light and fun without being taken so seriously because it never, not even once was supposed to be. For real though, screw everybody for telling him to talk to Craig, and screw Craig most of all for not talking to him. Not that Clyde wanted to talk to him either, but at the same time he really, really did.

It was their anniversary. That should be hilarious. It was hilarious! But Craig just wasn't acknowledging it, that bitch. Seriously, Clyde should go over there.

Clyde paused. Should he go over there?

…He was going over there.

Executive decision made, Clyde slammed his second glass of water, realized immediately how badly it made him have to pee, took care of business, stomped to his front door, jerked it open, and saw Craig standing right there, fiddling with the stem of a single rose between his thumbs.

Craig blinked up at him, not even surprised as much as he was flustered, but he squared his shoulders and held out the rose. "Happy anniversary, dickhole."

Clyde didn't mean to keep staring, he was just trying to figure out if he'd peed enough because he suddenly felt like he still had more in there, probably because this was way too impossible to actually fathom. He tried to formulate some kind of proper response, but then Craig started to look nervous and worried and that wasn't something Clyde wanted at all so he quickly went with his gut impulse and took the rose, clutching it dramatically over his chest. "Be still, my raging boner."

Craig relaxed, then grinned, then laughed, and shit had Clyde missed that. He didn't even join him, just smiled wide enough for his cheeks to hurt and pulled Craig inside, kicking the door shut along the way. If dragging Craig up to his room was surreal, it was only because of how absolutely normal it felt. The three weeks might as well have been nothing.

Then when they got to Clyde's room, Craig shut the door and turned to him with determination. "We need to start playing again so people stop thinking we're not okay."

Clyde could cry. Craig- Craig got it. "Oh my god, I know. It's like, yeah, assholes? We're fine."

"Thank you!" Craig exclaimed, relieved. "Do you know how many times Token and Tweek and even Stan tried to talk to me about 'us'?"

"Dude I had this whole like, intervention hallway."

Craig scrunched his nose in disgust. "That sounds awful."

"It was!" Clyde exclaimed, throwing his arms in the air and then letting them fall, settling one on Craig's shoulder on the way down. "Man… I'm so glad you're here."

"Yeah." Craig's sigh was a content one. Then he paused. "Wait. Are we playing?"

"Wh- right now? Oh no, I wasn't-" Clyde started pulling his hand away before he paused too, "-but we can be?"

"Would that be okay?"

"Sure, who's starting?"

"I can."

"Sweet, let me put down my flower."

"Should we stay standing up, or?"

"Yeah, I mean I'm good. You?"

"Yeah, fine."

"Cool," Clyde said, getting into position in front of Craig and making sure his feet were planted firmly on the carpet. When he was satisfied, he looked up. "Okay, come at me."

Craig nodded, taking a second. Then he started lifting his hands, but struggled with where to put them or even what to do with them at all. His slow-motion flailing would have been a mockable offense in most cases, but Clyde didn't tease him for it, he didn't dare. Instead he just kind of held his breath and prayed for Craig to find his groove soon because this could not be weird, it absolutely could not.

And hallelujah, Craig's hands eventually found safe haven on Clyde's shoulders and he stepped closer.

Clyde was relieved, and since that officially counted as starting, he moved to participate by closing in and tilting his head a little. Craig gave himself a nearly imperceptive nod before he did the same. It was surprising how easy it was to fall right back into this, but also not really, because to be perfectly honest they'd mastered the trajectory long ago.

The tentative rate at which they closed the space between their lips, now, that was more reminiscent of the first time they'd done this competitively, complete with the stuttering pauses and the alternations between thinking and not.

And like that first time they got close but didn't seal the kiss, with Craig cutting it off and Clyde being beyond grateful that he did.

If only the reasons weren't so different.

"…Clyde," Craig breathed his name on his lips, which was too much; Clyde turned away. Craig let his arms drop to his sides and gave him a rueful look. "I don't know if I can do this."

"We could try again," Clyde said, though it was barely half-hearted.

"I don't think so. I… I think we maybe need to consider the possibility that we…"

"Stop," Clyde said. "I know what you're getting at but- just stop."

"What do you want me to say, Clyde?"

"I don't know," Clyde said. He sat at the side of his bed and covered his face with his hand. "It's because of the game, isn't it?"

Craig struggled. "A little, maybe."

"But you know that's just how we are!" Clyde insisted, almost pleadingly as he looked up. "Just because nobody understands us doesn't mean what we have isn't fake!"

"I…" Craig looked away.

"Craig, please… the past six months… please don't tell me all of it wasn't a lie."

Craig didn't say anything, but his guilty aversion showed enough.

"So that's it, then." Clyde's voice was quiet, but only at first. "Well way to go for starting the game in the first place, Craig, bravo."

"Don't you dare put all of this on me," Craig shot back.

"Oh yeah, I bet you're really secure in your sexuality now."

"I'm not the one who exposed everything to everyone!"

"What does homecoming have to do with anything!"

"What?!"

"Nothing. Never mind. Let's not fight?"

Craig gave him a dubious look, but it only held for a moment before he let it all go with a resigned sigh. He walked over and slumped down beside him, hands hanging loosely in his lap. "Come on, dude… I can't be the only one who's thought it," he said heavily. "Three weeks."

And wasn't that the truth of it. You could build a wall as high as you want, but if enough people hit it, it's gonna knock down. Especially when it's an inside job.

"You're not," Clyde finally admitted. "I… Stan and Kyle are jerks, but they're right," he said, shifting a little. Hopefully Craig appreciated this; this wasn't easy for him. "I don't know if we've been dating since like, September, but yeah… we've probably been dating. For real." There. He said it. It was done. Happy, assholes?

Craig didn't look happy, but he didn't look particularly bummed either. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it," Clyde said, shaking his head. "So what do we do about it?"

"Hell if I know. Maybe we could say if we want to keep at it on three or something," he mused.

Clyde looked at him thoughtfully. He knew Craig wasn't being serious, but why the hell not? "Two?"

Craig paused. "One."

They both opened their mouths, but neither said a word.

"Dude, it doesn't work if you don't actually say anything," Clyde admonished.

"Is that right."

"I'm just saying."

"I'm sure," Craig said flatly. "I guess saying things at the same time is kind of hard… especially if they end up being different things."

God, Clyde hoped not. Yes, no, maybe, whatever; just please, please let them be on the same page with this, even if the exact number of that page was something Clyde was still trying to work out.

"Okay, how about this: we play paper rock scissors, but like, a gay or not version."

Craig looked at Clyde like there was something wrong with his head, but only before he realized how good of an idea that was and it inevitably won him over. "That could work."

"Sweet," Clyde said. "Rock is gay."

"Why is rock gay?"

Clyde promptly raise one finger, then two, then three, then folded them all into a fist.

Craig stared. "I don't get it."

"Really?" Clyde asked, amused.

"Are you going to explain?"

"When you're older, maybe."

"Asshole," Craig scoffed.

"Paper is straight," Clyde went on.

"That makes sense. Scissors?"

"Scissors isn't important, it's nothing."

"No, it should be something."

"Then pick something."

"I don't-" Craig started, but stopped mid-sentence. "Lesbian."

"Oh wow, that's good," Clyde snickered.

Craig smirked proudly. "Okay, let's go." He made a fist and hovered it over his open palm.

Clyde did the same. "Straight," he and Craig struck down once, "gay," twice, "lesbian!" It was about at that point where Clyde realized he had no idea what to pick, so naturally he panicked and threw down lesbian.

But, so did Craig.

Snickering ensued once more, and by the time they got situated to play again they may as well have laughed the tension right out of the room. Clyde even tried to treat this second round more seriously, but the lazy grin that Craig now wore disabled him from doing any such thing. Not that he minded, because at the same time it made everything, everything clearer. Like. We're talking crystal.

On the third strike of round two, Clyde kept his hand closed.

So did Craig.

Clyde hadn't even gotten as far as thinking he should have maybe held his breath or whatever before the results were in, alleviating any and all of his retrospective worry. No, the only thing he could think to do now was rotate his hand in, wait for Craig to do the same, and bump their knuckles together.

"Man. We are on point."

"Looks like it," Craig marveled.

"…So. What now?"

"I guess..." Craig glanced briefly over his shoulder at the rest of the bed before looking back at Clyde. "Lie down?"

"Oka- hey, wait." Clyde stopped moving just a second after he'd started. "Why do I have to lie down? You lie down."

"Damnit Clyde," Craig said, in the patient sort of way where he really wasn't patient at all, "I'm trying to take this seriously, for you, so can you please just lie the hell down?"

"I'm trying to do the same thing!" Clyde argued. "Why are you the one who automatically gets to have his way with me?"

"Fine," Craig shot back before he gripped the side of the bed and pushed himself further against it, kicking up his feet. "Happy?"

"Oh hell yeah." Clyde swooped over him at once with a hand on either side of his head, and hey let's kick a leg over to straddle him too while we're at it.

Yes… yes, this was nice. Now then. Clyde let a smirk spread across his lips, looked down at Craig, and…

…and…

"Well?" Craig asked impatiently.

"Give me a second!" After a second, he frowned. "...You wanna switch places?"

"Unbelievable."

Craig sat up, and Clyde worked with him to swap their positions until it was him with his back to the mattress. Then he looked up at Craig expectantly, even though he wasn't even doing anything either and ha, wasn't so easy now that it was real, was it? Clyde didn't call him out on it though, because he for one was a gentleman.

At least he was until Craig finally worked up the nerve to move. "Craig, wait!"

Craig froze. "What?"

"Be gentle." Clyde fluttered his lashes. "I've never done this before."

"You," Craig said, shaking his head, "are the worst boyfriend ever."

"But I am your boyfriend," he took care to point out, and woah. He was. Him and Craig… was there a limit to how many times reality could keep hitting you over and over? Because Clyde was starting to think there might not be.

"And… you're absolutely sure you want that?"

Woah, wait. Craig, what? "We fist bumped on it."

"I know, but," Craig hesitated. He must have underestimated the power of the b word and its effects. "I didn't actually think you'd pick rock. Gay. Whatever."

"I did though," Clyde reminded.

"You've also been dating girls since grade school."

Hell yeah he has, but he knew better than to brag about his celebrated history as a lady killer when that seemed to be the issue.

"I mean, I guess I still don't really know how I like dudes in general, but… it's you," Clyde said with an honest shrug. Craig looked at him like it was complicated, but it really wasn't. Clyde propped himself up on his elbows. "You know you're basically my favorite person, right? And then we started playing the game, and god, it was stupid and fun and then we started doing it more but it was never supposed to be real but then it was and- and the last few weeks sucked, you have no idea, or maybe you do, actually yeah you probably do, but, um," he wasn't sure how much sense this was all making, but he kept going. "I wouldn't have kept doing it if I didn't like it, and I do like it Craig, I like it a lot. I don't want to stop being friends because of it, but I don't want to stop either, so if that means being together together with you then yeah, that's what I want, and if that makes me gay, well, I don't know man, say something?" he urged anxiously, because wow, what the hell kind of emotional word vomit was that?

Craig seemed to appreciate it though, because the smile he gave him lit everything up, including but not limited to Clyde's entire world. Nothing could be more perfect.

"Same."

Aaaaaaand it's gone.

"'Same.' Wow. Thanks man. I didn't know I could ever be so touched."

A small, confident smirk played across Craig's lips, and only then did Clyde realize the fault of his phrasing. Still, he couldn't mind it much; not with Craig taking full advantage, locking their lips with a warm passion that Clyde was eager to respond to. Shit, he was all about it. Kissing Craig wasn't a battle now, it was a rhythm, inspired by the details of his mouth that he already knew every intimate measure of and the freedom to jam without the threat of defeat.

Hm. That would make a pretty cool band name.

Craig cut them off early. "Fuck I missed this," he said before pushing Clyde's shoulders back against the bed and following him down, now claiming his mouth with much more confidence and double the demand.

Same, Clyde said back in his head. If this was how Craig articulated his feelings, then yeah, he was more than okay with it.

Together they made up for lost time – a good three weeks' worth – after which Craig pushed himself up and looked over Clyde with satisfaction. "I'm surprised you didn't chicken out," he teased as he caught the last of his breath.

"It's gonna take more than that," Clyde said. Really, the line he had for getting gay with Craig had always been getting crossed out and readjusted since the very beginning six months ago, and the last six minutes pushed it all the more. He still had some trepidation, sure, but when it came down to it he really had no trouble grabbing Craig's ass in both hands, giving it a good pinch just because, and pulling him down into his own arching hips.

The move totally put Craig at his mercy; he closed his eyes and whined, check it, whined at the friction. Points or no, there was nothing better than getting the better of him, especially like this.

So he did it again.

"Clyde," Craig let out as Clyde's reward, or maybe as a little bit of revenge, from the way it shot him straight from half mast to full. Still, from what he had felt of Craig he was in a similar predicament, or at least getting there.

Deciding that he could help him with that, Clyde moved his hands from the back of Craig's pants to the front, working the button and zipper and pulling down enough to see that things didn't need to be evened up after all. Nice.

"Didn't know you had it in you," Craig said in a strangled voice as he tried to get a grip on himself, even though Clyde already had that covered.

Clyde smiled slyly. "Pretty good, right?" he said, backing it up with some practiced solo motions that ought to translate well enough. "An hour ago I wasn't even gay."

"L-Liar."

Clyde was vaguely aware of Craig's fumbling with his jeans, but it didn't process fully until he'd given up trying to unbutton them with the one hand he was using and just snuck it straight in instead. Clyde did everything in his power to not stop what he was doing, close his eyes, bite on his bottom lip and utter something unintelligible at Craig's touch, but, he could admit that he wasn't the strongest person.

It didn't matter. Clyde recovered from his lapse, and almost right after, had Craig finished. He could see, hear, and feel confirmation of this, and all three made fast work of sending Clyde over the edge, collectively reeling his senses to blazing white.

It was awesome.

Then the elation faded, and everything they'd just done hit him with jarring impact.

"Craig," he said quietly.

Craig had collapsed – half on Clyde, half on the bed – but he shifted his head to face Clyde in acknowledgement, sobering quickly when he saw his expression. "Yeah?" he asked, with carefully controlled concern.

Clyde looked at him for a moment. He couldn't blame him. Slowly he lifted his head and pressed a kiss to his lips, simple and chaste to soften the impending blow. Then he raised a single, sullied finger. Craig may not be a chicken… but he had come first.

"One-zero."