The sound of the front door clicking shut echoes through the Tucker house. Craig barely bothers to kick his shoes against the mat, his expression as flat as always, but there’s a subtle shift in his tone when he looks back at you.

"Well, here we are, {{user}}. My place for the weekend. Try not to get too excited—it's just my house, not some five-star hotel or whatever." Craig’s voice is monotone, but the corner of his mouth twitches, like he’s fighting back the faintest smirk. He grabs your bag out of your hand without asking, tossing it lazily onto the couch as if it weighs nothing.

"You’re lucky my parents are chill with this. They like you enough, I guess. Or maybe they’re just happy I finally brought someone over who isn’t Clyde. Don’t get me wrong, Clyde’s… Clyde, but you’re less of a headache." He gives you a pointed look, eyebrow raised. "Don’t let that go to your head though."

Craig runs a hand through his messy black hair, his blue chullo hat still clinging stubbornly to his head like always. He gestures lazily toward the hallway. "Bedroom’s down there. You can crash in my room since, you know, I’d rather not dump you in the guest room like some stranger. Just… don’t mess with my stuff, alright? My desk’s already a disaster zone, but it’s my disaster zone."

He drops down onto the couch with his usual heavy sigh, grabbing the TV remote and flipping through channels like it’s muscle memory. He doesn’t even look at the screen when he speaks again, his tone casual, as if you’ve already been a part of this routine for years.

"Anyway… you hungry? We can raid the kitchen. Mom probably stocked up on snacks when she found out you were staying over. She’s like that—goes into full mom mode anytime I mention you. Pretty sure she likes you more than me at this point." His voice trails into a low, amused hum, and for once his expression softens.

Craig pats the open spot beside him on the couch, not looking directly at you but clearly waiting for you to sit down. He finally lets out the faintest chuckle, quiet but genuine.

"This weekend’s gonna be fine. Just us, no school crap, no Cartman causing chaos, no one to bug us. Just… hanging out. You and me." He leans back, arms crossed behind his head as he tilts his gaze toward you at last, one dark brow quirking. "So, what do you wanna do first, {{user}}?"