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The Feeling I've Been Craving Was Always You

Chapter 3: A New Job

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Monday mornings always sucked, but this one felt especially sluggish. Kenny shuffled into school with his hood up, hands stuffed in his pockets. The weekend felt like a blur now, but he couldn’t stop replaying Saturday in his head—the quiet moments with Craig, the unexpected ease of it all.

He wasn’t sure if it was weird that he’d been thinking about it so much, but whatever. It’s not like anyone else needed to know.

By the time lunch rolled around, Kenny was sitting at his usual table with Stan, Kyle, and Cartman. Butters was still grounded, which meant one less voice in the chaotic whirlwind of their conversations.

“Dude, I’m just saying,” Cartman said, gesturing wildly with a half-eaten chicken nugget. “If you really think aliens would waste their time probing some loser in Kansas, you’re a bigger idiot than Kyle.”

Kyle rolled his eyes. “Cartman, for the last time, no one cares about your conspiracy theories.”

Stan laughed, sipping his soda, but Kenny barely registered the noise around him. His attention drifted to the other side of the cafeteria, where Craig sat at his usual table, lazily picking at his food. Tweek was there, of course, jittering as he rambled about something, but Craig didn’t seem to be listening.

Kenny caught Craig’s eyes for a split second. Craig raised an eyebrow, then jerked his head slightly in an unmistakable invitation.

At first, Kenny thought he was imagining it. But no—Craig did it again, subtle but clear.

“You good, dude?” Stan asked, pulling Kenny back to reality.

“Huh? Yeah. Fine,” Kenny said quickly, standing up and grabbing his tray.

“Where are you going?” Kyle asked, frowning.

“Uh… gonna sit somewhere else today.” Kenny didn’t elaborate, and before anyone could press him, he was already walking across the cafeteria.

His friends stared after him in stunned silence.

“Is he going to Craig’s table?” Kyle asked, incredulous.

“No way,” Stan said.

Cartman snorted. “I knew it. McCormick’s finally snapped.”


When Kenny reached Craig’s table, Tweek looked up, startled, nearly spilling his drink. “Gah! Kenny? What are you doing here?!”

Craig didn’t even blink, scooting over slightly to make room. “Sit.”

Kenny hesitated for a moment, then slid into the seat next to him. “What’s up?” he asked casually, trying to act like this wasn’t the most unexpected thing to happen all day.

“Nothing,” Craig said, shrugging. “Figured you could use a break from your friends. They’re loud.”

Kenny laughed, relaxing a little. “Yeah, you’re not wrong.”

Tweek blinked at them, his mouth opening and closing like he wanted to say something but couldn’t quite figure out what. Eventually, he just muttered, “Okay, okay,” and went back to nervously tearing apart his sandwich.

Craig leaned back in his seat, poking at his food with a fork. “So, how’s life in poverty?”

Kenny rolled his eyes but smirked. “Better than life in monotony, I’m guessing.”

“Touché.”

Across the cafeteria, Kenny’s usual table was still in shock.

“What the hell is happening?” Kyle muttered, staring.

“Maybe Craig’s blackmailing him,” Cartman offered. “That’d make sense. Or Kenny lost a bet. Definitely a bet.”

Stan frowned. “I don’t know, man. Kenny doesn’t usually hang with people like Craig. This is… weird.”

Back at Craig’s table, the conversation had turned to skateboarding.

“I’m still serious about teaching you,” Craig said, flicking a fry across the table. “It’s not hard. You just have to not suck.”

“Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence,” Kenny said, dodging the fry with a grin.

The bell rang, signaling the end of lunch, and students began shuffling out of the cafeteria.

“Later, McCormick,” Craig said as he stood, grabbing his tray.

Kenny nodded, watching him walk away before heading back to his usual group.

“What was that about?” Stan asked as soon as Kenny sat down.

“Nothing,” Kenny said, shrugging. “Craig wanted to talk.”

Kyle looked skeptical. “Since when do you and Craig Tucker talk?”

Kenny smirked, pulling his hood down a little further. “Since now, I guess.”

Stan and Kyle exchanged a look, but they didn’t push it. Cartman, however, couldn’t resist.

“Dude, are you two secretly dating?” he asked, laughing obnoxiously.

Kenny flipped him off. “Screw you, Cartman.”

As they walked to their next class, Kenny found himself glancing down the hall where Craig was leaning against a locker, scrolling on his phone.

Kenny wasn’t sure what was happening between them, but for the first time in a while, he didn’t feel like figuring it out was such a bad thing.


The school day dragged on, as it always did, but Kenny found himself looking forward to the end of it. Not because of his usual escape into South Park’s crumbling streets, but because of a surprising invitation Craig had casually thrown his way during last period.

“Wanna walk home with me?” Craig had asked, leaning against his desk like it was no big deal.

Kenny, caught off guard but intrigued, had simply shrugged. “Sure, why not?”

Now, the two of them strolled down the cracked sidewalks in the cool afternoon air. Craig carried his skateboard under one arm, his usual apathetic expression in place, while Kenny walked beside him, hands jammed into his hoodie pockets.

For a while, they didn’t say much. The quiet between them wasn’t awkward, though—it was the kind of silence that didn’t need filling.

“Your sister always talk that much?” Craig eventually asked, breaking the stillness.

Kenny smirked. “Karen? Yeah. She’s got a lot to say about everything. Keeps things interesting, though.”

Craig nodded. “She seems cool. Better than Tricia, anyway. That kid’s a pain in the ass.”

“Guess it runs in the family, huh?” Kenny teased.

Craig snorted but didn’t argue. “Fair.”

They walked a little farther before Craig spoke again, his tone quieter this time. “You… doing okay, though? Like, at home?”

Kenny glanced at him, surprised by the question. Most people didn’t bother asking. “Same as always,” he said with a shrug. “It’s not great, but I manage.”

Craig frowned slightly, looking ahead. “You shouldn’t have to just ‘manage,’ you know.”

Kenny let out a bitter laugh. “Yeah, well, that’s life, Tucker. Some of us don’t get the luxury of coasting through it like you.”

Craig stopped walking, turning to face him. “That why you were looking for a job the other day? To get out of there more?”

Kenny hesitated. He hadn’t told many people about that—mostly because he hadn’t found anything yet. “Yeah,” he admitted. “I need the cash, and I need a reason to not be home so much.”

Craig nodded, his gaze thoughtful. “You want one?”

“A home? Yeah, I’d love one,” Kenny joked.

“No, dumbass. A job.”

Kenny blinked. “You know someone hiring?”

Craig smirked. “Tweek’s parents are always looking for extra hands at the coffeehouse. I work there part-time. It’s not glamorous, but it’s money. If you’re interested, I can talk to them.”

Kenny stared at him, caught off guard by the offer. “You serious?”

“Do I look like I’d joke about something like this?” Craig deadpanned.

“Well, no, but…” Kenny trailed off, scratching the back of his neck. “I mean, yeah. If you think they’d hire me, I’d be down.”

Craig nodded, his smirk softening into something closer to a small smile. “Cool. I’ll let them know.”

They started walking again, the conversation shifting to lighter topics—music, movies, random stuff at school. But as they neared Kenny’s house, the mood grew quieter again.

“Thanks, by the way,” Kenny said suddenly, his voice low.

Craig raised an eyebrow. “For what?”

“For not being a total asshole, I guess,” Kenny said with a grin. “And for the job thing. That’s… cool of you.”

Craig shrugged, but there was a faint hint of color in his cheeks. “Don’t get used to it.”

Kenny laughed, shaking his head. “Yeah, sure. Later, Tucker.”

Craig watched as Kenny headed up the uneven path to his house, his orange hood pulled tight against the wind.

As Craig turned to leave, he couldn’t help but think about the way Kenny’s smile had lingered, even after they’d said goodbye.




The next morning, Kenny was leaning against his locker, mindlessly scrolling through his cracked phone screen, when Tweek suddenly appeared out of nowhere.

“Kenny!” Tweek’s voice was jittery as usual, startling him so badly he nearly dropped his phone.

“Jesus, Tweek,” Kenny muttered, clutching his chest dramatically. “You trying to give me a heart attack?”

“Gah! Sorry, sorry!” Tweek flailed a little before taking a deep breath. “Craig told me you’re looking for a job.”

Kenny blinked, glancing over Tweek’s shoulder. Sure enough, Craig was standing a little ways down the hall, arms crossed and watching the interaction with his usual neutral expression.

“Uh, yeah,” Kenny said, his tone cautious.

“Well, um, my parents are hiring at the coffeehouse,” Tweek blurted out. “They need someone who can, like, help with cleaning tables, restocking, maybe even some cashier stuff if you’re good with people! Ahh! I mean—are you good with people? I don’t know—uh, do you want to come by after school and talk to them?!”

Kenny stared at him for a moment, processing the rapid-fire explanation. He glanced at Craig again, who gave him a slight nod as if to say, Go for it.

“Sure,” Kenny said finally, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I’ll check it out.”

“Cool! Cool cool cool!” Tweek said, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Just—just don’t mess it up, okay?! My parents are picky! Gah!”

With that, Tweek scurried off, leaving Kenny standing there, mildly amused.

Craig walked over, his expression as unreadable as ever. “Told you it was an option.”

“Guess I owe you one, huh?” Kenny said, raising an eyebrow.

Craig smirked faintly. “You can pay me back by not screwing it up.”


After school, Kenny met up with Craig and Tweek outside the coffeehouse. The cozy smell of roasted beans wafted through the air as they walked in, and Kenny couldn’t help but take a deep breath.

Tweek’s parents were behind the counter, bustling around with their usual energy.

“Mom! Dad! This is Kenny!” Tweek said, motioning toward him as if presenting a prize.

“Oh, you’re the one Craig mentioned,” Mrs. Tweak said, her sharp eyes giving Kenny a once-over.

“Yes, ma’am,” Kenny said, standing a little straighter.

Mr. Tweak leaned over the counter, his expression scrutinizing. “Do you have any experience in food service?”

“Uh, not really,” Kenny admitted. “But I learn fast, and I’m not afraid of hard work.”

Mrs. Tweak exchanged a glance with her husband before nodding. “We’ll see how you do. We’re always busy, so we need people who can keep up.”

“We’ll start him on cleaning and restocking!” Tweek added, vibrating with nervous energy. “Right? Right? That’s a good start, right?!”

Craig rolled his eyes. “Relax, Tweek. He hasn’t even started yet.”

Mrs. Tweak nodded. “Come by tomorrow for a trial shift. If you do well, we’ll talk hours and pay.”

Kenny grinned. “Got it. Thanks, Mrs. Tweak, Mr. Tweak.”


As they walked out, Kenny felt a strange mix of excitement and nervousness bubbling in his chest. “Guess I’ve got a job,” he said, looking at Craig.

“Told you I’d come through,” Craig replied, his tone casual but a hint of pride in his voice.

Tweek, still jittery, chimed in. “You better not screw up, Kenny! My parents are scary when they’re mad!”

Kenny laughed. “Don’t worry, Tweek. I’ll keep it together.”

As they headed home, Kenny couldn’t help but feel grateful—not just for the opportunity, but for Craig’s quiet way of looking out for him.

The next afternoon, Kenny walked into Tweek Bros. Coffeehouse for his trial shift. The warm aroma of coffee and pastries filled the air, and the steady hum of conversation created a cozy backdrop. He felt a little out of place in his usual worn-out hoodie and jeans, but he shook it off.

Mrs. Tweak greeted him briskly. “You’re on time. Good start. Let’s see if you can keep it up.” She handed him an apron that was a little too big but not worth complaining about. “You’ll start with clearing tables, wiping them down, and restocking supplies. If that goes well, we’ll see about letting you shadow on the register.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Kenny said with a grin, tying the apron around his waist.

Craig was already behind the counter, taking an order with his usual stoic efficiency. When their eyes met, Craig gave a slight nod, a silent you’ve got this.

Kenny jumped into the work, wiping down tables and stacking chairs when needed. It was straightforward but not as easy as it looked—balancing trays of dirty dishes, maneuvering around customers, and keeping the pace quick enough to match the busy café.

Half an hour in, he was already sweating, but he hadn’t dropped anything or caused any disasters. That felt like a win.


At one point, Craig slid by him, holding a tray of drinks. “Doing fine,” he said in his usual monotone.

“Fine?” Kenny shot back, grinning. “Is that Craig Tucker for great job?”

“Don’t push it,” Craig said, but there was a faint twitch of a smile on his lips.


As the shift went on, Kenny moved on to refilling napkin dispensers and restocking the pastry case. He had a knack for chatting with customers who asked questions, throwing in a bit of charm without even meaning to.

“Are you always this friendly?” Mrs. Tweak asked at one point, watching him refill sugar packets.

“Guess so,” Kenny said with a shrug. “People like a smile, right?”

“Hmph,” she said, but there was approval in her tone.

By the time the trial shift ended, Kenny’s feet ached, and his arms felt like they’d been carrying trays for hours. But he felt good. He’d managed not to screw up, and a few customers even complimented how clean the place looked.


As he untied his apron, Mrs. Tweak approached him with Mr. Tweak in tow.

“You did well,” she said, handing him a folded piece of paper. “That’s your schedule for now—just a few shifts a week to start. Show up on time, and we’ll see about giving you more hours later.”

Kenny’s face lit up. “Seriously? Thanks! I won’t let you down.”

“You’d better not,” Mr. Tweak said gruffly, but there was a slight smile on his face.


After closing, Craig and Kenny walked out of the café together.

“Not bad, McCormick,” Craig said, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

Kenny grinned. “Coming from you, that almost sounds like a compliment.”

Craig smirked. “Don’t get used to it.”

Kenny glanced at him, the smile lingering on his face. “Thanks for putting in a word for me, by the way. You didn’t have to, but you did.”

Craig shrugged, looking away. “Figured you’d be decent at it. And you were.”

They walked in silence for a moment, the cool evening air settling around them.

“You’re a good friend, Tucker,” Kenny said finally.

Craig didn’t respond right away, but when he did, his voice was softer. “Yeah. You too.”

As they went their separate ways, Kenny couldn’t help but feel like things were finally looking up—not just because of the job, but because of the quiet support he’d found in someone he hadn’t expected.

Notes:

If You guys have any ideas for this story please suggest stuff, because I just made this story from the top of my head :PP