Winter break started for him two days ago. Rather than go home, Craig opted to stay in his dorm. With its warm weather and sandy beaches, California beat South Park hands down any day. He had no reason to leave. It wasn't as if anyone missed him back home. Not his parents, not his friends. Why waste perfectly good money on something he didn't need?

Lies. All of it fucking lies, you fucking coward.

Craig scowled. If only he could tell the voice inside his head to shut up, he'd be so happy.

Truthfully- not that he was going to admit it- he wanted to go back, but couldn't. Something, or more precisely, someone stopped him.

Where did he go wrong, Craig wondered. When did he mess up so badly, he was afraid to go home and face his mistake, face Clyde? It's been a little over three months since he last saw the brunette, but the mere thought of him still made his heart clench. The scar was still fresh; he remembered the soft skin beneath his hands; dreamt of Clyde's body writhing, panting under him like it has hundreds, thousands of times.

Craig rolled over to his side, the ache in his chest a familiar friend. It was his fault. All of his damn fault. He should've told Clyde from the start he liked him. Instead, he covered it up with a joke, allowing whatever he had with Clyde to continue for longer than it should have. Clyde thought their "arrangement" was a culmination of two horny boys looking for a convenient fuck, but it always meant more than that to Craig; Clyde always meant something more.

And now he fucking ruined everything with his own two hands because he couldn't keep his dick in his pants. He couldn't stop himself, couldn't break away because he loved Clyde, and being near him- touching, kissing him- made him forget the pain, that what they had was only temporary. Clyde never saw him as a potential lover, no matter how intimate they were with each other. Contrary to his emotionless facade, Craig was a romantic. Why else did he cling to the hope that Clyde might one day return his feelings? He was an absolute sap. So much so, when Clyde told him happily he was going to school to New York, Craig followed him there like a lovesick puppy.

But none of it mattered now. Thousands of miles separated them. Clyde was in New York, living it up with his frat brothers, while he was here on the other side of the country. Finally, he didn't have to see Clyde every day, a reminder of what he couldn't have. This was his chance to forget and move on from this painful unrequited love. Craig vowed until he could go back to being just best friends, he didn't want to see Clyde ever again.

A knock on the door interrupted his melancholy thoughts. Too lazy to answer it, Craig pretended he wasn't in. The knock persisted, polite at first, but then grew frantic and annoying.

Craig threw off the covers with a growl and stalked toward the door. "What?!" Scowling, he yanked the door open. "What the hell do you want? Can't you see I don't-"

Clyde. It was Clyde standing in front of him, his arm raised mid-knock. "Oh," the brunet slowly lowered his arm back down to his side. "I thought for a second you weren't home. I was afraid I'd have to stay in a motel or something." When Craig didn't answer, his eyes hard and unreadable, Clyde shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. "Can...I come in?"

Silence. Craig said nothing, but he moved aside so Clyde could step in.

"What are you doing here?" Craig finally trusted his voice enough to speak. Even to his own ears, his voice betrayed none of his tumultuous thoughts.

"Your mom said you weren't coming home. So I came to visit you." His back to Craig, Clyde glanced around the tidy room. Everything about this place- from the books splayed out on the floor to the camera on the desk- it screamed his best friend. A ghost of a smile visited Clyde's lips. Looking around and being here, he was allowed a glimpse into Craig's life. Since they were kids, they practically knew everything about each other. But now that they lived apart, there were parts of Craig he wasn't privy to. Seeing him again, it made him more happy than he thought possible. God, how he missed him these past months.

Craig shook his head. "No."

"No?" Clyde turned around, perplexed by Craig's reaction. "What do you mean no?"

"I mean, why are you here? Why aren't you spending Christmas with your dad? Why would you waste your money to come and visit me?" With each question asked, Craig's voice got a little louder. "It doesn't make sense."

"You're my friend," Clyde's brows furrow with confusion. He clarified, "My best friend. Course I'd come!"

"Right, best friend." Craig felt his almost mended heart shatter again at the dreaded words. "How nice of you."

Clyde held up both his hands in front of him as if stemming a storm of tirade he felt was coming. "Okay, you got me. It's not the whole reason why I'm here. No, visiting you sort of is, but there's more? I-I don't know how to say this. I kinda do...But like it's difficult to say so I-"

"Just spit it out, Clyde! Stop stuttering," Craig snapped. His patience was running thin. His hands itched to pull Clyde into a kiss, but he refused to do anything like that with the brunet again. Things had to go back to normal with them. Craig can't continue living with this longing anymore.

"Okay! Sheesh. Don't yell at me! Maybe this will explain things better." Clyde reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. Music started to play from it.

At first Craig was confused. Why the hell was Clyde playing "Lay Me Down" by Sam Smith? The question flew from his mind as Clyde stepped closer. He stiffened when Clyde gingerly took him by the hand and laid it against his chest. Craig felt the racing of the brunet's heart in his palm; heard the tremors in Clyde's voice as he began singing along with Sam Smith.

"What are you doing?" Craig softly asked

"Being romantic? You don't like it? I thought for sure that was going to work."

"No, that's not what I'm saying. I'm asking you, why you're doing this? That's gay as hell and you're not gay. You've been telling me you're not gay for the last three years."

Clyde ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "You know how I said I joined a frat?" At Craig's nod, he continued, "They throw a shit ton of parties. Lots of drinking, some drugs, I guess I don't know. There's sex. Tons of it. I have fun talking to the girls. They're soft, they're nice. I love how small they feel when I hug them-"

"You want me to congratulate you?" Craig sneered. He didn't want to hear anymore of Clyde's sexual exploits. "Congrats. There, now get out."

"Craig, just hear me out okay? I never made out with any of the girls. I never even kissed them. I tried, but they weren't you." Clyde's eyes glittered with unshed tears. They pleaded with the noirette to listen and understand. "They. Weren't. You. These past three months have been hell for me. I tried to forget you, I tried to move on, but I couldn't okay? It was easy to tell myself I'm not gay, I'm not gay but I was lying. I was lying to you, I was lying to myself. I didn't want to fall in love with you, but I did." Craig's heart lurched at the mention of love; it took everything he had to keep his expression neutral.

"And...and it's not because of the sex either. I missed the little stuff. I missed how you'd come over and we'd fight about which system was better, Playstation or Xbox. I missed that dorky little grin you get when you pet Stripe when you think no one's looking. I miss having someone there when I'm breaking down crying over stupid things. I know you hate it, but you never abandoned me. You complained all the time and called me crybaby, but you always stuck by me." Clyde's hair stuck out on ends as he continued to run his hand through it. He was starting to panic. Craig gave him no signs of wavering, or if he even reciprocated his affections.

Clyde swallowed the nervous lump in his throat. He already came this far. There was no backing out now. "What I want to say is, I miss you. A lot. And not in a friend way. In a totally gay, homosexual kind of way. It took three years, and us going to different colleges and not being able to see each other for me to figure it out, but I finally did. The minute I could, I booked a plane ticket and flew right over here."

"...So what do you want me to do?" Craig answered short and gruffly. Blood pounded in his ears. His heart raced a mile a minute. He should be jumping for joy (as if that's his style), but he had to make sure. He dreamt of this moment for years, and every time he opened his eyes, his excitement was doused with disappointment. This was too good to be true. He must've fallen asleep while he was moping on the bed. It's impossible for Clyde to be here, confessing to him of all things. Any minute now, he was going to wake up and find himself alone, Clyde nowhere in sight.

Clyde shrugged helplessly. He said what he needed to say. All that's left is for Craig to decide whether or not to accept him. "Tell me...you love me back?" he tossed out hopefully, "Maybe say something like you want to be with me too?"

"Clyde, you go to school in New York. I'm in California. It's never going to work out." Ever the practical soul, even if Craig was dying to tell Clyde he felt the same way, he couldn't utter the words. God must hate him, or someone cursed him with the worst possible fucking luck. So what if Clyde miraculously liked him now? They'd break up in a couple of weeks once school started up again in January. Craig didn't want to know Clyde cheated, or worse, fall out of love with him. If they were going to break up soon or later, Craig rather not start at all.

"Aw, Craig don't say that. It's not true."

"A long-distance relationship will never work between us."

"Craig, of course it's not if you- Wait a second, did you just say between us?" Clyde caught the subtle implication beneath Craig's words. "Does that mean you like me too?"

Craig scowled. "I didn't say that. I said it wouldn't work!"

"No, that's exactly what you meant. You could've rejected me, or said you didn't like me, but you didn't." Clyde's voice slowly started to fill with realization. "You're already thinking about us dating, then breaking up. You're thinking about our future together."

"There is no us! No 'our future'!" Craig snaps. "Didn't you hear a single word I said? Long distance relationships don't work!"

Clyde grabbed Craig by the front of his shirt, effectively cutting through the bullshit with a kiss. "There was another song I wanted to play for you," he whispered against Craig's mouth. "It's a song by this guy named Frankie J. It went something like, ' I know, you know there's something here. But you cannot get past the fear. I can help you make it clear. Something, something, take a chance on me. Baby, take a chance on me...Craig, please take a chance on me."

Hands trembling slightly, Craig found purchase around Clyde's waist. Here they were. Two half-grown men barely out of high school. They didn't know what they want, but they had a whole entire future ahead of them to figure it out.

"Please, kiss me," Clyde said.

Craig hesitated for a second, but the defense he built around himself crumbled after multiple beatings. He caved, leaning forward and kissing the edge of Clyde's jaw, then the corner of his mouth. They shared a breath. Very slowly, they came together. First it was gentle, but then it became a frantic welcome, consuming the hot, smooth, liquid world between them.

They waited four years for this moment. What's another four years going to hurt?