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nightttdreamers · 2 years ago

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Night Shift | Craig x Kenny

first chapter of my new crenny fic! yeah its a fake dating AU but it’s going to be super fun and just the right amount of cheesy. very excited to share!

AO3 Link | 4k words | Chapter 1/? | Chapter 2

“Hey, McCormick,” Craig says. “You’ll do anything for a buck, right?”

Kenny cocks his head at the question. “What? I mean, it depends. But, kinda, yeah.”

Craig takes a deep breath before he asks, “You wanna be my boyfriend?”

Craig switched to the night shift.

It wasn’t hard, because no one wants the night shift at a 24 hour convenience store. When his manager, a greasy twenty-six year-old, asked him why, Craig just said he wanted time after school for extracurriculars. It was the same excuse he told his parents, who, instead of wondering why their son wanted to work from 9:00PM to 2:00AM, just said, “You do extracurriculars?”

Tolkien, Clyde, and Jimmy didn’t believe that excuse however, so he told them that he’d be making more money instead, which seemed to work.

Thankfully, nobody asked further than that.

It’s not too bad. Craig hates customers and he sees them way less than he did when he was working after school. He just sits behind the counter, plays games on his phone, does the occasional bit of homework, and tries not to think. Recently, he’s been testing the limits of the security cameras, trying to figure out blind spots. Not because he cares if people steal, of course, he couldn’t give less of a fuck. It’s just something to keep him occupied until the five hours run out.

He’s been on the night shift for over two weeks now, and he’s gotten used to the routine. He knows the students that come in after football games before they head off to their parties he’s not invited to. He knows which truck drivers will let him bum a cigarette from the packs they buy. And he knows that after midnight the store is completely dead.

Except this particular night, apparently. At one in the morning, the door opens. Craig looks up from his phone, first seeing a flash of blonde hair that makes his heart sink. But, then the blonde turns around and Craig has to hide the relief on his face.

“Craig Tucker?”

Kenny says his name with a strange familiarity, like he’s reuniting with an old friend instead of a classmate he barely speaks to. He’s not wearing that stupid traffic cone-colored parka he always has on, but instead a beat-up denim jacket, which is why Craig almost had him mistaken at first.

“Yeah?” Craig responds, raising his brows. The last thing he wants to do right now is talk to anyone from school. At least it's Kenny and not any of his idiot friends. Craig classifies Kenny as a low-level dumbass, somewhat harmless, while Stan and the others are Certified Douchebags.

“When did you start working here?” Kenny asks, stepping up to the counter.

Fuck, he wants a conversation. “I don’t know, a while ago,” Craig replies.

“But where’s the usual night shift guy? Are you covering for him?” Kenny leans over the counter a bit while he speaks, which is a little too close for comfort. Craig avoids his eyes, instead looking down at what appears to be a spot of dried blood on his white t-shirt.

“Are you bleeding?” He asks.

“Probably. Did you trade shifts with the other guy? Me and him were just starting to become pals, you know?” Kenny’s bright eyes are bouncing around everywhere as he leans back again, glancing over candy bars and cigarette cartons and five-hour energy drinks on the counter. His general enthusiasm is making Craig feel more exhausted. He wonders if the blonde is on something. He’s heard some shit about what Kenny does when he’s missing school.

“I switched shifts like two weeks ago,” Craig replies, still looking at the blood stain, which actually looks a bit fresh in the light.

“Uh-huh, got it,” Kenny nods, finally leaving the counter to look through the aisles. Craig lets out a sigh, picking up his phone again to return to his game. After a minute or so, Kenny pipes up from the chip aisle. “Hey, didn’t you and Tweek break up two weeks ago?”

Craig grips his phone, looking up at Kenny who seems to be really interested in a bag of chips right now. “Why do you care?” It’s a genuine question, but Craig still tries to sound nonchalant when he asks it.

“‘Cause gossip is fun? I dunno,” the other responds flippantly, moving on to a bag of pretzels instead. He’s turned away now, moving further down the aisle, unaware that Craig is staring daggers at him. “I heard he dumped you in the parking lot and you got so mad you smashed a car window, then got in-school-suspension for two days.”

Craig slams his phone down on the counter, but Kenny doesn’t even flinch, simply turning back to him with an innocent expression.

“What?” The other asks. “Bebe told me that she saw the whole thing.”

“She-” Craig begins, nearly raising his voice. He cuts himself off, however, gritting his teeth for a moment. “Bebe is a fucking liar.”

Kenny seems to think about this accusation before responding. “Yeah, I didn’t really believe her,” he says, then ducks into another aisle. With Kenny out of sight, Craig deflates, running a hand through his hair. He’s no stranger to gossip in South Park, in fact he might be a veteran, but it’s been a while since someone regurgitated some bullshit they heard to his face. He can’t even be too mad, considering he’s talked plenty about every other breakup in their school- Stan and Wendy, Tolkien and Wendy, Tolkien and Nichole, Nichole and Kyle, in their small school, other people’s drama is prime entertainment.

The part of it that pisses him off isn’t that people are spreading rumors about the breakup. It’s the fact that, across every untrue story, people still know that it was Tweek who dumped Craig .

Kenny drops a 6-pack of beer on the counter and Craig is so preoccupied with his thoughts that he nearly rings it up before realizing what the item is. “Is this a joke?” Craig asks, looking back up at Kenny.

“Is what a joke?” The other asks, idly picking at his lower lip with his thumb. He pulls back the skin slightly, flashing a missing tooth, though it doesn’t look like he’s even aware of what he’s doing.

“Do you seriously think I’m going to let you buy this?” He says flatly. Kenny gives him a confused look, like he sincerely doesn’t know why Craig won’t check him out. “You’re not 21 McCormick, fuck off.”

“Are you sure about that?” Kenny asks, shuffling around in his pocket before pulling out a wad of cards and cash, held together by a rubber band. He slides a card out and places it on the counter, right in front of Craig.

It’s just about the worst fake ID he’s ever seen. It’s from Wyoming, the man in the picture barely resembles Kenny except for the blonde hair, and the text is chipping in certain places. Craig picks it up, bending the card just to see how flimsy it is.

Kenny is leaning on the counter again, wearing that stupid grin he always seems to sport as he watches Craig. “So, you’re twenty-seven,” Craig deadpans.

“Yes, sir,” Kenny chirps, eyeing the nicotine products. “And a pack of camels too,” he says, then adds, “Please.”

Craig sighs, putting the ID back on the counter. “I’m not selling you anything, McCormick.”

Kenny’s smile falters, though he tries to keep it up as his hand moves from his mouth to the back of his neck, anxiously rubbing it. “Come on, man. The other night guy always took my ID. You can ask him, too. He never even got in trouble for it.” Craig simply stares at him, eyes narrow. His shift ends in less than an hour, he just wants to go home and ignore everyone, not deal with an idiot like Kenny. “Craig,” Kenny says, almost whining . “Do me a solid, I’m not even gonna drink it. It’s for my dad and he’ll get pissed, okay?”

It’s not like Craig really cares about Kenny enough to look into his personal life, but it’s impossible not to know that he doesn’t have it easy at home. And maybe it’s because he’s sleep deprived, or he just wants Kenny to leave already, but Craig grabs the Camels. “Whatever.”

Kenny grins now, somehow even wider than before, as he drums his fingers on the counter. “I knew you were a good guy. You know, everyone thinks you’re an asshole, but I knew you weren’t.”

Craig scans each item, trying to convince himself that this isn’t a terrible idea. “I am an asshole,” he says. “And that’s $17.02”

Once again, Kenny flips through his rubber-band wad and pulls out a twenty. Instead of just handing it over, he places it on the counter, then slowly slides it to Craig. “Keep the change.”

Craig, unamused, takes the bill, glancing up at Kenny. “Really?”

“Hell no,” Kenny says with a laugh, grabbing his change once Craig puts it on the counter. He pauses, then leaves three dimes on the table. “There, you can keep that change.”

“I’ll try not to spend it all in one place,” he says, turning back to the cash register. Kenny picks up his items, but lingers by the counter, and Craig can feel his blue eyes on him. “What? Do you want a receipt or something?”

“So it’s true, then?” Kenny asks. Then, when Craig gives him a confused look, he says, “You and Tweek broke up?”

“Do you really want to push your luck with me right now, McCormick?” Craig asks, hopefully in a threatening enough voice that Kenny gets the message.

Instead, the blonde just laughs like this is some inside joke between the two of them and heads out the door, throwing a wave back at Craig as he exits.

In the wake of Kenny McCormick, the store feels almost eerily quiet, rather than the peaceful stillness that it was before. Still, Craig exhales, grateful that the entire interaction is over. He returns to his mindless phone game and tries not to think about Tweek or Kenny or even stupid Bebe spreading rumors about him.

School had been more annoying than usual. He and Tweek entered their senior year together, how was Craig supposed to know they wouldn’t finish it like that? Their schedules overlapped for three periods: History, calculus, and lunch. In class, he and Tweek always sat next to each other, so it wasn’t too difficult to just sit in the back instead, though some people were pissed that their unofficial seating chart had been messed with after three months of peace. He’d sit with the goths or the ugly kids and ignore the twitchy blonde across the room, constantly pretending that he wasn’t just staring when Tweek would catch his wayward glances.

Lunch, however, was more difficult. In the first few days, he avoided the cafeteria entirely, opting to eat alone in his car instead. Sure, if someone saw him it would be social suicide, but that would be better than sitting with his ex-boyfriend. By the end of the first week, Clyde had called him on the verge of tears, begging his best friend to come back and sit with them. Apparently, Tweek had started eating lunch in the art room instead, something that he told Clyde that he had texted Craig. What neither of them knew, however, was that Craig had blocked Tweek’s number the day they broke up.

So, he went back to eating lunch with his friends. Tolkien and Clyde sitting across from him, and Jimmy on his side, leaving an odd space as if Tweek is going to come and sit between them like he usually does. There’s a certain stiffness at the table that certainly wasn’t there before, and Craig understands that it’s probably his fault. He’s caused a few awkward moments when they’ve tried to ask about Tweek by quickly dropping the subject or just ignoring it entirely. Even their attempts to talk to him about anything at all are unsuccessful, as Craig is much more interested in staring silently at his food while he counts the minutes until lunch is over.

Today, he once again brings an uncomfortable energy to the lunch table. However, instead of fixating on his shitty meal, he’s looking right at Clyde. He didn’t want to linger on the rumor Kenny had told him the other night, but he couldn’t help it. Did Clyde tell Bebe about what happened and she decided to make up a more interesting story? Or did Bebe tell him what she “saw” and Clyde simply believed her?

“What’s up, Craig?” Clyde asks, knitting his brows together. The two have made eye contact a few times over the last few minutes, but this is the first time Clyde hasn’t immediately looked away. The others at the table turn their attention to the two, feeling the tension.

“Clyde, when you and Bebe go out, do you guys just sit around and talk about my love life?” Craig asks. It comes out a bit harsher than he intends, but he’s always been one to be straightforward.

Clyde just gives him a confused look, then Craig watches the subsequent realization and fear come across his face. “What?”

“I heard a really interesting story from your girlfriend about how I got dumped, then broke a car window and got ISS,” Craig replies. “So I just wanted to know, do you guys sit and talk about my love life all the time, or just sometimes?”

“Wait, I thought t-t-that you tried to set f-fire to the car?” Jimmy says, which earns him a death glare from Craig.

“Don’t be mad,” Clyde whines, giving his friend a nervous smile. “It was just a rumor, I didn’t even believe her when she told me! I actually walked past the ISS room just to look for you.”

“So you do sit around and lie about my personal life,” Craig says, narrowing his eyes at Clyde. He then turns to Jimmy. “And you too? Tolkien, do you have any stories about my life I haven’t heard yet?”

Tolkien, not as easily goaded into drama as Clyde, just shrugs. “Everyone was talking about it, man.”

Craig exhales, pinching the bridge of his nose. “And none of you just asked me?”

“We tried!” Clyde exclaims, earning a few hums of agreement from the rest of the group.

“You didn’t really want to talk about it when we asked,” Tolkien adds.

Craig presses his lips together in a firm line. He can’t really argue with that. In the days after the break up, he didn’t have in-school suspension, he just faked a cold and stayed home, giving him plenty of time to just think about all of the things that would be different now. Besides the obvious, giant void in his life that Tweek left behind, there was also the issue of their mutual friends, which neither of them would want to lose. Craig knew that Tweek had forfeited lunch, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t in contact with their friends at all. The last thing Craig wanted was to make anyone choose sides.

To him, it felt like it would be in everyone’s best interest if he just left his friends out of it.

“Well, none of that stuff is true,” Craig mumbles, pushing the food on his tray around with his fork.

“So you d-didn’t set a car on fire?” Jimmy asks, scooting a bit closer to Craig.

“Or break the window?” Clyde adds.

“No,” Craig says flatly, rolling his eyes.

“And you didn’t get ISS?” Tolkien asks.

“No.”

“And Tweek didn’t break up with you?” Clyde asks, almost sounding hopeful.

Craig grips his fork tightly, staring down at the table. He pushes the tray of food away from himself, looking back up at three sets of curious eyes. “That’s- Yeah, he did.”

“Really? Like, he dumped you ?” Clyde doesn’t even try to hide the disbelief in his voice. Tolkien elbows him in the side at the comment, shooting Clyde a glare before turning to Craig with a sympathetic look.

“That sucks, man. I’m sorry,” he says, and Craig wants to crawl into his hoodie and never be seen again.

“It’s whatever,” Craig says, once again looking back down at the table. “I just don’t get why everyone thinks that I’m the one who got dumped.”

The rest of the boys exchange glances, and Craig hates the silent debate they seem to be having over his head. “C-c-can I be honest with you for a second, p-pal?” Jimmy finally says, reaching up to put a hand on Craig’s shoulder.

“Go ahead,” Craig replies.

“In a b-b-breakup, there’s usually a winner, a-and a loser,” he begins, and Craig has a bad feeling that he knows where this is going. “Usually, the p-person who dumps the other is the w-w-winner.”

“What makes you guys think I’m not the winner?” Craig asks, looking between his friends. Once again, no one seems to want to answer.

“W-well, Craig, you k-k-kind of look like shit,” Jimmy finally says.

Craig scoots back from him, rolling the other’s hand off his shoulder. “Fuck off, Jimmy.”

“He’s only saying that because we’re worried about you,” Tolkien says. “You barely talk to anyone, you always have your headphones in, plus now that you have the stupid night shift, basically no one has seen you outside of school.”

“We’re totally here for you, dude,” Clyde says, nodding in agreement. “Breakups are so hard, especially for the loser.”

“Thanks, Clyde,” Craig says flatly, moving to pick up his backpack.

Clyde winces at the remark. “I didn’t mean it like that. Don’t leave, man, you can talk to us!”

Craig stands, sliding his backpack over his shoulders. There’s still twenty minutes left in the period, but if he sits there any longer he might just explode.

“W-w-we don’t think of you like that, C-Craig,” Jimmy adds, and Craig knows that he’s being sincere. If his friends think he’s handling the breakup badly, that’s okay with him. What’s not okay is that, apparently, Tweek is walking around doing just fine without him.

“It’s fine, I don’t care,” Craig says, picking up his tray. “You can all think what you want, okay? I’m fine. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

He can hear his friends calling his name, but Craig is already walking away from the table, trying not to be so aware of everyone’s eyes on him as he storms out of the lunchroom.

As he walks away from the table, he can hear his friends call his name, but it’s too late. Craig spends the rest of lunch alone under the bleachers, smoking a cigarette while his headphones blast Radiohead, acutely aware that he really does look like a loser.

Days later, he’s still thinking about it. Craig stands in the snack aisle, restocking the instant noodles, while it repeats like a mantra in his head; Tweek won, you lost.

It’s now been almost three weeks since the breakup. Three weeks of staring at the other’s blocked contact in his phone, deleting shared playlists, and aimlessly scrolling through old photos like he’ll find something he missed before, something that explains why . When they had their last conversation, Tweek had said “I think we both knew this was going to happen,” and all Craig could say in response was “What are you talking about?”

He looks down at the cup noodles in his hand. Suddenly, just lifting his arm to put it on the shelf feels like the hardest task in the world.

“I really don’t think that’s the best flavor choice,” pipes up a voice from beside him, and Craig jolts upright, turning to the stranger.

Kenny is standing at the end of the aisle in his dirty orange parka, hands shoved in his pocket, wearing the shit-eating grin he always has on.

“When did you get here?” Craig asks, letting his shoulders relax as he returns to his restock. He keeps his face down, hoping that Kenny didn’t see his momentary existential crisis just then.

“Like, a minute ago. Did you not hear the bell when I came in?” Kenny steps closer, peering over Craig’s shoulder at the products. “I guess not, you seemed pretty into these noodles. But, I gotta say, I think shrimp’s the worst flavor. Not that I know what real shrimp would taste like, but the cup noodle flavor is just too fake.”

Craig’s barely listening, trying to finish quickly. He just wants to go back behind the counter where he’s safe because Kenny is way too close to him right now. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he says, turning to walk away from the other.

Kenny, however, follows right behind him. “Have you ever made ramen chips? You just put the seasoning in the bag then you crush the ramen up and eat it like that. Like, no need for hot water or anything. My brother and I used to make it all the time. It’s just like chips, it’s pretty good.”

“Mhm,” he hums. Luckily, Kenny isn’t facing him, or he’d see the grimace on Craig’s face right now. The dark-haired boy steps behind the counter, finally separating himself from Kenny, dropping the empty ramen box on the floor beside him.

“What did you think of the chem quiz today?” Kenny asks, flipping through the magazine rack.

The question catches him off-guard, and it takes Craig a second to realize that, oh yeah , Kenny is in his chemistry class. The blonde usually hides himself away in the back corner if he even attends class at all. “It was fine, I guess.”

Kenny nods. “Yeah, I think all this gas stuff has been tripping me up. I pretty much bullshitted the last page, but I think Mrs. Dawson wants to fuck me so I’ll probably be okay. I swear, every time she goes to help Kevin Stoley with a problem, she bends over right in front of me so I can see her ass. Like, it’s totally on purpose.”

“Are you here to buy something or just talk about random shit?” Craig asks.

Kenny doesn't respond at first, and Craig can see the way his smile falters, how he stops flipping through the magazines for a second. When he looks up, his expression is sheepish, and Craig feels like an asshole.

“Sorry,” Kenny finally says. “I’m rambling, right? I’m kinda high, the guys always get annoyed at how much I talk when I smoke.”

He’s never been great at reading people, but it’s pretty obvious he just hit one of Kenny’s nerves. Before he can really think about it, he finds himself saying, “No, I’m sorry.” Both boys look surprised at the apology, and Craig figures he’d better explain himself. “You’re fine, I’m just tired and it’s been a shit day.”

Kenny’s expression softens, and Craig feels a bit lighter. “It’s okay,” he says. “I can’t blame you, dude. I guess you heard about Tweek, huh?”

The air in the room stills for a second as the two exchange a panicked glance.

“Shit, I shouldn’t have-” Kenny starts.

“What about Tweek?” Craig cuts him off, but Kenny keeps talking.

“I’m high, I’m rambling, just forget about it. Fuck.”

“Kenny,” Craig says, watching as the other mutters to himself, shaking his head. “Kenny!” He repeats, louder this time.

“It’s nothing,” Kenny says, but the high pitch of his voice tells Craig it’s definitely not nothing. “It’s a rumor, total bullshit.”

Craig sighs, knowing he probably shouldn’t ask. But he already lies awake at night thinking about what Tweek’s doing without him, he might as well lie awake knowing what his ex is up to. “Just tell me.”

Kenny gnaws on his lip for a second, nervously picking at the hem of his jacket before he speaks. “Don’t shoot the messenger, okay? But there was this thing at the skate park a few days ago and I heard that Tweek showed up with Pete Thelman.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Craig exclaims, causing Kenny to flinch.

“I said don’t shoot the messenger!” Kenny says, raising his hands defensively. “All I heard was that they were there together, it’s literally nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

Craig barely hears the other, already feeling a pit in his chest starting to form. He wants to bash his head against the counter or trash the entire convenience store. But, he also wants to curl up on the floor and never be seen again. While he’s wasting away every day in the back of his classes, or locked in his room, or working the worst job at a near-empty store, Tweek is okay. Of course everyone knows he got dumped, apparently his ex is already moving on.

“Craig, are you good?” Kenny asks, leaning over the counter a bit. “Should I like, call someone?”

For the last few weeks, Craig has felt like there was a hole inside him, slowly growing to consume every part of his life. But, right now, something feels different. Even if it is a bullshit rumor, hearing about Tweek like this is sparking something in him.

He’s fucking pissed.

“Hey, McCormick,” Craig says. “You’ll do anything for a buck, right?”

Kenny cocks his head at the question. “What? I mean, it depends. But, kinda, yeah.”

Craig takes a deep breath before he asks, “You wanna be my boyfriend?”

#south park #fanfiction #crenny #Craig Tucker #kenny mccormick #craig tucker x kenny mccormick #fic #fake dating #im so excited for this fic hehehehe

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