Chapter Text
”Tweek!” The excited squeal came from his right. “I’m so excited that you asked me to come ring shopping with you!”
”Yeah, we’re not gonna let you down.” from his left.
He was out with Bebe and Wendy. He figured that he’d likely get the best advice from some of his old friends, one of which was already married, and the other one who was decidedly not, but had fantastic taste, so that pretty much evened out.
“Oh, totally not.” Bebe agreed. “We’re gonna get Tucker the best ring ever,”
”While staying within your budget.”
“And — aghgnn — keeping style in mind!”
”Right!”
Wendy giggled slightly. “No offence, but I’m kind of surprised that you’re proposing to him. He just seems like he would… again, no offence, be practical about it. You know, have the measurements beforehand, have a set budget, intimidate those poor sales associates ‘til they give him a good deal…”
Tweek squeaked in slight offence. “I—“ he spluttered. “I have the measurements! I’ll have you know that I - I kinda got his ring size and know how thick the ring should be!! And — and I’ve been doing business for most of my life! I’m — arghghh — freelancing a lot! So I can negotiate! And budget!”
”Okay, Tweek.” Wendy put her hands up “Point made!”
”Ooh, but how’d you “kinda” get the ring size?” Bebe asked, pointedly ignoring the context up to that point. “You guys don’t seem the type to keep a measurement tool around. Without one of those, things get a lot less precise.”
Tweek cringed. “Well…”
______
Tweek Tweak’s master plan to propose to his boyfriend had gotten slightly derailed.
He had no idea how he was supposed to figure out someone’s ring size! He’d never even bought rings for himself before - they were all way too impractical! It would slow Tweek down to adjust to wearing a ring while he made coffee, baked, or anything involving food safety! Not to mention playing the piano or boxing. He was almost certain that he’d have to take off any jewellery before the latter and he’d forget to put it back on after he was finished with the activity! He had no frame of reference for himself, so how the hell was he supposed to figure one out for Craig?
Tweek could feel himself shaking hard as he stepped into the grocery store where he placed his mobile order. Okay. Think this through. Just like Craig would…
He needed to figure out Craig’s ring size. Logically, that was a number like a shoe size. This means that there’s probably some way to figure it out. When he got home, he could Google how to measure ring size, get his own, and then figure out Craig’s based on that.
“Sir?”
But, what if that didn’t quite translate? Their hands were quite different. Tweek’s were a lot slimmer than Craig’s, and his fingers were noticeably longer. Oh, sh*t. When you buy an engagement ring do you buy yourself a matching one, or does your fiancè buy one for you? … Is an engagement ring the same thing as a wedding ring?
“Um, excuse me, Sir…?”
Because he’s sure he’s heard the two terms before, but he’s not sure if they can be used interchangeably. Jesus Christ, how much money would they be out just on rings alone? Tweek wasn’t going to go with the cheapest option, Craig deserved the world and more, but he heard that they can cost… a lot. But maybe that’s more for women’s rings? Would it be different with two men? Oh, God, he had no frame of reference! Why didn’t anybody teach these things?!
There was a sudden tap on his shoulder.
“Sir?”
Tweek jolted in a way that was, admittedly, a bit dramatic for the situation he was in. He was forced to acknowledge the man behind him in line who smiled at him. It was a little strained, but Tweek could appreciate the effort this man was making.
“You’re next in line.”
Oh.
“Ugh — thank, thank you!” He yelped before scurrying to the counter where a sales associate stood with a plastic smile. Tweek cringed. Ah, the Customer Service look. He, unfortunately, could relate.
“How can I help you, sir?”
“Pickup — ghnn — order for Tweak?” He wasn’t sure if this specific store sorted pickups by first or last name… Luckily for him, it didn’t matter, but he made the distinction in his mind anyway.
The employee simply nodded and turned to look at the rickety framework that housed their pickup orders. After a moment of looking through the different bags while Tweek shifted his weight from leg to leg, they handed the tied bag off to him with a nod and a “Thank you for your business.” Tweek hastily wished them a good day before practically running out of the store.
Once he was in the safety of his car, Tweek set the groceries in the passenger’s seat and attempted to steady his shaky hands before he began driving, for his sake as well as everybody else on the road. He took a deep inhale, folding his arms over the steering wheel and cushioning his head. When he got home, he could hang out with Craig, eat dinner with him, and while they unwinded, he could do some research.
______
Tweek slipped into the apartment quietly. He didn’t see Craig’s car in their designated spots yet, so he assumed they wanted him to stay late. That, sadly, wasn’t a rare occurrence on the days Craig worked from the office. He was great at what he did - something with tech that Tweek wasn’t quite savvy enough to understand - which was great for their budget, but not so great for when Tweek wanted to see Craig.
With a sigh, Tweek began unloading the groceries he picked up, putting everything in their proper place in the cabinets. As he did so, he allowed his mind to wander. From the people they went to school with, almost nobody that he was close to had ended up getting married yet. Tweek made an exception for Tolkien due to his engagement, but that still wasn’t marriage. The one person he could vaguely remember hearing something about was… one of the girls? Whoever it was hadn’t gotten married to anybody he knew, probably someone she met in college and he likely only knew about it because Craig probably gossiped to him about a Facebook post he saw…
But that wouldn’t help if it was one of the girls! He needed advice on proposing! He needed somebody’s brain to pick, and because Tolkien gave him the advice in the first place, he didn’t want to bother him by asking how, exactly, he managed to get Nichole’s ring… and what’s more, he’s rich! He could probably afford to make a mistake regarding the size and get it re-done if he f*cked it up! Jesus...
Tweek closed the cupboard with a huff, it seemed like he didn’t have anybody in his immediate circle to ask, and even if a few people from his graduating class had gotten married, they’d evidently either slipped his mind, or he didn’t keep in contact with them for a reason. He was sh*t out of luck… Even in an alternate timeline where he kept in contact with his family, he wouldn’t even be willing to ask his dad how he proposed to his mom because of the metaphors, man. He couldn’t stand to be monologued to for God only knows how long, flowery words spilt from his father’s mouth with no end in sight, and nothing of substance being said. It was too much to even think about entertaining! Oh Jesus, how the hell was he supposed to figure out how to do this, huh? Was he just going to have to play this by ear? Christ, he needed a cup of coffee.
As Tweek measured some grounds into a tablespoon, he heard the lock click followed by the door opening.
“’M home.” Came the tired voice of his boyfriend. Tweek dumped the grounds into the machine and made quick work of finding Craig. Tension dropped from his shoulders as his man came into view and he waited for him to finish taking his shoes off before wrapping him up in his arms, a gesture which Craig quickly reciprocated.
“Hi, Craig.”
”Hey, sweetheart. Busy day?”
Tweek made a humming noise in acknowledgement, neither confirming nor denying. “Client wants another revision.” It was a good opt-out, he was telling the truth without bringing up his little trip. He could feel Craig scoff and rub his large hand up and down Tweek’s back.
“This is, what, his third?”
”Fourth”. Tweek groaned, allowing his head to tip forward and rest against Craig’s shoulder. “Said he — mgh — wanted more 'edge', whatever that means.” He rubbed his cheek against Craig’s thin work shirt. “Mmmh… You got home pretty late, though. Long day?”
A sigh was his answer. “I had to take on some of my coworker’s stuff today. Their dad got in a car crash.”
“Oh, sh*t. Is everyone okay?”
”Yeah, yeah. Everything’s fine, it just meant we all had to pick up the slack,” Despite him being a closet drama queen, Craig generally took on extra work without complaint. If Craig was willing to admit that much, it must have been a pretty significant amount of work. Tweek attempted to show his support by squeezing his boyfriend a little closer. “My hands hurt like a bitch, though.”
Oh? They did? This was a golden opportunity if he played it right. Tweek made a soft cooing sound in the back of his throat. “My poor Craig.” He murmured before he turned his head to softly kiss his neck, relishing the full-body shiver Craig tried to repress. “How about,” He tried to soften his scratchy voice, making it more soothing and palatable. “We make something easy, or even better, order in… then, we can cuddle up, and I can — ngh — help you out, Hm?”
Craig broke their embrace far enough to pull Tweek in for a proper press of their lips, humming his assent. “Okay, baby.” He pecked Tweek once more before holding him at arm’s length. “What do you wanna get?”
”Um.” This was Craig’s ‘sneaky’ way of getting out of making a choice. Tweek decided he could play along today. “I don’t care, man. Chicken?”
“Sure.” Craig let him go. “I’ll order.”
_____
Tweek couldn’t help but stare at Craig’s hands as they ate. Craig’s hands were big and sturdy, his fingers were thick, a little stubby, and fit perfectly between Tweek’s. He didn’t have any of the issues around his cuticles that Tweek had - probably because Craig never made a habit of picking or biting his nails. Damn, how had Tweek never taken the time to stare at Craig’s hands before? He was knocked out of his staring by Craig tapping the table.
“Hm?”
“Y’with me, hon? Looks like you got stuck.”
”Oh. Yeah,” Tweek blinked a few times and minutely shook his head. it seems that he’d spaced out through most of dinner, both he and Craig only had a few pieces of chicken left. “Sorry, man. Were you saying something?”
A small smile graced Craig’s face. “Nope.”
Tweek mirrored his expression. “Asshole.” The insult was entirely without heat, and they gazed at one another lovingly before Tweek continued eating his portion of the meal, deliberately this time. “So,” he began. “Car crash?”
”Mhm.” Craig confirmed through a mouthful. He, thankfully, waited to swallow before speaking. “Hit’n’run. Not sure what shape the car was in, but their dad needed a lift to the hospital.” He grimaced. “I don’t envy their position at all.”
Tweek cringed. “Oh, Jesus. Are they gonna be taking more time off work? Are you going to have to cover for them more? Christ, What if this keeps happening until you’re a one-man team, Craig?! Or worse, it happens to you!”
“I’m sure that won’t happen, hon.”
“No, man! Then I wouldn’t be able to see you in the ER!”
Craig snorted. “Babe, I doubt I’d ever get in a serious enough crash to warrant an ER visit. Everything’s fine, okay?”
Tweek grumbled. This hypothetical wasn’t worth getting into an argument about. “‘Kay…”
A silence fell over their table, neither of them having much to say. They finished their meal quietly, Tweek’s gaze occasionally slipping down to Craig’s hands. He could visualise a band on his ring finger. He would need to shop extensively to find something just right. The sooner the better. He really needed to get on that size…
”Craig!” He practically yelled once they were finished with their meal. Craig, who was used to his outbursts, barely even flinched at the sudden loud noise, taking it in stride. “Yes, honey?”
”I want to give you a hand massage now! Go — ack — go put comfy clothes on, something on the TV and relax, man! I’ll take care of the dishes!”
Craig gave him a wide-eyed stare before nodding dumbly at him. “Okay.” But despite his words, he still gathered his and Tweek’s plates in his hand and deposited them by the sink before Tweek could think to do so. On his way back, Craig pressed a kiss to his head and muttered “Don’t take too long.” Into Tweek’s unruly hair. Tweek groaned in annoyance - he was supposed to be doing something nice for him, not the other way around!
He grumbled as he scrubbed the plates free of any grease, sauce, and leftover food, quickly setting them out to dry before darting to their bathroom. He was certain that Craig had some lotion somewhere. He wasn’t going to use Craig’s good skincare sh*t for this massage, but with how extensive his boyfriend’s skincare routine was, he was bound to find something.
Tweek finally struck gold in the far corner of their cupboard under the sink as he heard Craig start an old episode of Star Trek… Honestly, he wasn’t sure whether he’d pick that or Red Racer, but the choice wasn’t a surprise either way. He stood up, ignored the way his knees cracked, and made the short walk to their living room.
Craig lounged on the couch, looking comfortable and engrossed in the episode as Tweek sat next to him, slowly rearranging the other man until Tweek was leaned back against Craig’s solid body, holding his hands in front of himself and able to study them without interruption, or suspicion. He held Craig’s steady hand in one of his shaky ones, and there was no way he would be able to use his own fingers as a guide. They weren’t even close to the same size or width. Well, damn. There went that idea.
Tweek mentally kicked himself. He had already known that their hands were different. Using his own hands was a long shot anyway! It would be better to focus on the task at hand and see if his memory could work.
With the less-than-relaxing whirring, whistling, and beeping of the Enterprise in the background, Tweek got to work. He lathered his hands with inexpensive, under-the-sink lotion and started gently circling Craig’s right palm with his thumbs. He could feel the other man shiver as he reacted to his ministrations. With that positive feedback, Tweek took to digging his thumbs into the thenar, then working his way up to the upper palm. He then cradled his palm in both of his hands and worked around his Center palm, working at any tension he could find.
Through the massage, he could feel Craig’s shoulders relax, and he couldn’t help the smile that tugged on his lips. It was about time Craig let himself relax… especially because the more relaxed Craig was, the easier it would be for Tweek to subtly pay more attention to a specific finger of his.
He continued working on the right hand to relax Craig, and it seemed to work if the lack of commentary on the show was any indication. With one final tug to his pointer finger, he pressed a small, heartfelt kiss to Craig’s palm, then positioned his hand to lay on Tweek’s stomach. Tweek stroked the back of his hand softly as he picked up the lotion. He needed to reapply before he could pick up the prize he’d been working toward all night — Craig’s left hand.
He began by copying the same moves he used on Craig’s right hand. He lathered his left palm with attention and worked out any areas that seemed tense. He could slowly feel Craig relax his hand, and the weight of his arm, into his hold and it made a spark of warmth and pride flicker in his chest. It was rare that Craig let himself relax to this level, and Tweek was the only one who ever got to see it - who could ever make Craig relax like this.
He moved on to his fingers, interlacing them through his own. Their fingers looked good together. Just like the rest of them, they were practically opposite, but it worked. Tweek squeezed Craig’s hand with varying amounts of pressure, attempting to log the space between his fingers and Craig’s ring finger. If he could remember how far apart his fingers were when he was squeezing Craig’s finger, that could be a great way to figure out his measurements, right?
Tweek took the time to pay attention to each individual finger on this hand, wrapping his thumb and pointer finger around the base, pressing his way up to his knuckle before pulling back down. He moved Craig’s hand to and fro as he did so, his mind single-focused and attempting to log the differing sizes as he switched fingers. His thumb was notably thicker than any other finger, but there were slight variations between every single one. Tweek wasn’t sure if it was enough to constitute a change in ring size, but he should mentally record it anyway.
He was so focused on the massage, especially as he finally found his way to Craig’s left ring finger, that he didn’t notice the episode ending and Craig pressing slow, lazy kisses to the top of his head and the back of his neck. In fact, he didn’t notice until Craig jostled him in his lap slightly and spoke directly into his ear. “Baby,”
“Ngh!” Tweek startled badly, he likely would’ve fallen off the couch if it wasn’t for Craig’s sturdy arms pulling him back into him. “What?!”
“It’s like,” Craig made a show of unwrapping one of his arms from Tweek’s middle to check his stupid hi-tech SmartWatch. “Late. We should get to bed, Hm?”
God. Damn. It.
“I can’t finish?!” He quickly shot back. “Just two fingers, man!” To which Craig poorly hid a stupid-sounding snort and chortle into his hair. Tweek could practically feel his eye twitch at the stupid innuendo. “Oh my God, Shut up! You’re the — agh — you’re the f*ckin’ worst, man!” He grumbled.
“Ghehehe… Don’t be mad, honeyyyyy.” Craig’s poorly concealed laughter was jostling both of them on the couch, and Tweek just knew he couldn’t get the calm, focused mood back. He flipped around and pinched at Craig’s cheeks as he felt Craig settle his own hands on his waist.
“Then don’t make stupid jokes! Not funny, man. Didn’t laugh.” This also, inexplicably, seemed funny to Craig, who, despite Tweek’s torment of his face, continued to chuckle. “Yes, honey.” He droned. “You’re sooo right, I’m soooo sorry. How about,” He tried to compose himself. “How about I make it up to you?”
“Gross.” Tweek snickered back at the lame, faux-sultry voice his boyfriend put on, his annoyed front slipping. The mood was totally ruined, and he didn’t get what he needed… but Craig seemed a lot happier than he was when he first got home. If that meant a few days delay of Tweek’s plans, well, he’d be happy to indefinitely postpone any and everything he could possibly plan.
_______
Tweek’s previous massage plan may not have been all for nought. It was so simple he couldn’t believe he overlooked it! They’d been holding hands for years! After over a decade of clasping hands at any given opportunity, it had simply become muscle memory and, as such, so easy for Tweek to not see the potential of it! He didn’t need to make an excuse to get the width of Craig’s fingers, they were at his disposal practically every time they went out! Christ, he was overcomplicating this! it was such a simple solution he was embarrassed that he hadn’t thought of it before!
They were outside, walking the streets of Denver after taking a short bus ride into the city proper. They’ve been walking around in relative quiet for about a half hour. This wasn’t a usual pass time for them, but Tweek had been feeling a little stir-crazy, and a coworker at Craig’s company mentioned doing something similar to get out of the house without any pressure, attempting to stay at least somewhat active. Craig convinced Tweek to at least give it a try, so here they were. Hand-in-hand they walked aimlessly, enjoying one another’s company and window shopping. It was pretty astounding, how many small businesses and hidden gems were nestled into long urban stretches of buildings.
“Jesus, do the people who live here try to frequent all of these places?” Tweek craned his neck to get a better look at a storefront they passed. The little boy inside him who practically ran his parent’s coffee shop by himself could seldom pass up an opportunity to gawk at a small business, even if just to compare it to the old coffee shop. “All these options just seem overwhelming, man! How the hell can someone make a choice here?! And, oh God, I can’t imagine how badly these stores are doing with so many chains around!”
Craig seemed to be half-listening to his stressed rambles, running his thumb up and down the back of Tweek’s hand soothingly. “Hm,” Came his noncommittal answer. “They’re still open.”
“Agh! That’s not the point, man!” Craig turned to look at him, his green eyes warm with amusem*nt. “Yeah?”
”Yeah!”
“So what’s your point?”
Tweek faltered. “Um.” It was at that point he realised that he was mostly just talking for the sake of talking. “That— that we should get a coffee! Support ‘em!” He felt Craig snicker beside him. He’d probably seen through Tweek’s entire front. Tweek bumped his shoulder against Craig’s to get him off-balance, which had little effect. “Okay, babe. Whatever you say.” Drawled his boyfriend as he squeezed his hand. Tweek tried to take note of how that felt between his ring and middle finger. ”Any place look good to you?”
”Mnhhhg.. not yet.” They’d likely head home after getting a drink and finding a bus, so Tweek had to ensure that he found something relatively far to give him enough time to properly catalogue the width of Craig’s fingers before they got their drinks. He had a plan. “Let’s just — just keep walking, man.”
Craig didn’t respond, but he didn’t need to. Tweek knew by this point that if there wasn’t a protest, Craig was down for whatever Tweek wanted. He probably had that look in his eyes that he got whenever he was able to go along with Tweek’s wishes. It was cute. His boyfriend was so cute.
Craig allowed Tweek to hem and haw over his choice of cafe for a while before he finally spoke up and asked Tweek to ‘Just pick one, honey.’ But it had taken enough time for Tweek to get what he needed. Throughout their walk, he would purposefully tense and relax his hand until he found the perfect pressure that, he was assuming, a ring would make. Not too tight, not too loose. With his opposite hand, Tweeek finally gestured to a random cafe, it was small and the only person inside was a singular barista. Despite not actually caring where they got a drink, that was a pretty good choice for his previous cover story.
They walked into the establishment hand-in-hand. Tweek glanced over the menu while Craig stopped in his tracks to take a longer look. Perfect. Tweek, using his other arm, squeezed Craig’s bicep and told him to take his time - Tweek already knew what he wanted, after all. Craig agreed and detangled his fingers from Tweek's. Tweek ensured that his fingers stayed as still as they possibly could with the small tremor that always seemed to wrack them, and carefully stuffed his hand in his pocket. If he played this right, he could keep this up all the way home.
He ordered a large black coffee, let the barista know they’d be paying together, and stood off to the side. He adjusted his hand in his pocket to look as natural as possible and waited for Craig. It took his boyfriend a good few moments to decide what he wanted, indecisive as ever. He finally ordered some ridiculously sweet, blended monstrosity that didn’t count as coffee in Tweek’s eyes before paying and letting the barista begin working on their drinks.
Tweek’s drink was set on the counter first, but he opted to wait until both their drinks were ready before he took his. That would mean his plan had a better likelihood of working. He and Craig stood in a warm, comfortable silence as the barista quickly blended the drink, added whip and toppings, and slid the abomination over to Craig. They both picked up their drinks, Tweek called a hasty thanks over his shoulder, and they left the establishment, Craig holding the door open for Tweek who scurried out onto the sidewalk.
Tweek’s plan would either be made or broken here. He waited for Craig to fall into step beside him, then wrapped his arm holding the coffee around Craig’s free arm, pressing himself against the other man. This way, there would be no expectation for him to pull his hand out of his pocket at all. Besides, it was kind of nice to have a little more contact than their hands tangled together every once in a while. If Craig found anything odd about Tweek’s newly chosen walking position, he didn’t mention anything. He, instead, looked over at Tweek with those warm eyes and promptly blew his straw wrapper at Tweek. It missed spectacularly, but Tweek jolted anyway.
Craig snickered as he disentangled his arm from Tweek’s grip to retrieve the wrapper, crumpled it in the palm of his hand that held his drink, and then offered his free arm back to Tweek. He took it with no small level of exasperation. “Dork.” Tweek teased. Craig just hummed in response, nosing at Tweek’s hair. “Let’s go home, babe.” Seems Tweek was right on the money. It was a good idea to delay their entrance to a shop, after all. Tweek agreed, and they shortly found themselves on a bumpy bus ride home.
Despite his plan working out, Tweek couldn’t wait to get home. His fingers were starting to cramp up due to trying to hold the same position for so long and attempting to suppress any twitches or shaking. The jostling of the bus didn’t help at all, and Tweek wanted desperately to ensure that his measurements were correct. Worst of all, as his eagerness to get home mounted, Craig could definitely tell something was up. He tried to surreptitiously look over at Tweek in concern, but twitch that man, subtlety wasn’t a virtue of his once you got past his deadpan face. By the time they were on their street, Tweek was sure he wasn’t hiding his desire to get home very well at all. It didn’t help that the coffee had finally entered his system, which just made his faint trembling more pronounced. It may have slipped Tweek’s mind to eat a lot, so the caffeine was having more of an effect than it usually did. sh*t.
Upon getting home, Tweek made a beeline for the bathroom. He closed the door more forcefully than he should have, locked it, and finally, slowly, carefully, took his hand out of his pocket. He felt his heart rate climb as more of his hand became visible before it dropped upon seeing his fingers. His shaking and twitching was bad enough that, despite his best efforts, the gap between his middle and ring finger irregularly changed. Frustrated tears formed at the corners of his eyes as he gritted his teeth. sh*t! He couldn’t do it. His stupid trembling hands ruined another thing for him. How the hell was he ever supposed to pull an entire proposal off if he couldn’t even measure the fingers of his boyfriend?
_____
Tweek lay in bed beside Craig, facing him. His boyfriend’s chest rose and fell in regular, deep breaths. Tweek could feel the small puffs of air on his face and relished the physical, tangible proof that he was relaxed and alive. He had spent the evening feeling sorry for himself and cursing his parents, not for the first time in his life, for f*cking up his fine motor skills. He could tell that Craig was worried about him, but he skillfully avoided any potential questions… and by that, he meant that he suggested they have an early night in. Craig likely picked up that this was something he shouldn’t push Tweek about because he agreed quickly and made sure to hold Tweek securely until he fell asleep and his grip slackened.
Tweek could feel his lower eyelid twitch up as he stared at Craig’s sleeping face. he deserved their proposal to be good - to go off without a hitch, and Tweek was already f*cking it up. He wasn’t clever enough to come up with a way to do this on his own. It may be best for him to finally turn to the internet.
He rolled over, unplugged and picked up his phone, then squeezed his eyes shut tight in preparation for the blinding light of his phone in the pitch-black room. Upon turning his phone on, he quickly rolled back over so the light wouldn’t shine on Craig. He couldn’t take any risks.
Tweek pulled up his browser in incognito and simply typed “Ring sizing”. About four sponsored links populated his search page, which he promptly ignored. After that, the titles of the next few web pages seemed to be more-or-less e-commerce, suggesting at-home gauge measuring tools, jewellers in his area, and printable charts. Finally, he found an article. “How to Measure Your Ring Size at Home.”
Tweek quickly clicked on the article, eager for any advice. However, he was quickly bombarded with ads. He suppressed a groan. Fantastic. This article would likely be riddled with affiliate links and anecdotes instead of the step-by-step Tweek needed.
He was pleasantly surprised when the article ended up being short, but after a quick skim, didn’t seem like what he needed. He figured it was good advice if he needed his ring size, but neither he nor Craig were big on jewellery, so finding a well-fitting ring and placing it on a printed true-to-size ring-size chart wouldn’t be much help. Nor would using a ring sizer, seeing as they didn’t own one.
The tips and FAQ at the bottom, however, were helpful. He learned that ring sizes were measured in millimetres, so the variation in his fingers definitely would have skewed his measurements. Annoyance at himself flared up in his chest upon learning that piece of information, but he pushed on. He needed to not only get the measurement of the base of Craig’s finger but also consider the knuckle. “If you know your knuckle is on the larger side,” the article read, “order half a size bigger than what your finger alone indicates, otherwise you won't be able to slide a ring into the right place.” That was good, helpful advice, but that was all the information he was able to get from that article.
He perused a few more articles, each one saying basically the same thing. Tweek finally threw in the towel opened up a new incognito tab and carefully typed “how to measure men's ring size without him knowing”. Immediately, his browser supplied him with an answer. A bolder and highlighted portion of an article read “Take a piece of string and wrap it around their ring finger. Mark the place where the ends meet with a pen and take this to your jeweller” Tweek’s eyes widened. Could it really be that simple? Tweek read the rest of the excerpt of the article. “Trying to do this while your partner sleeps is no mean feat, but if you master it you will feel very pleased with yourself… and it's a great story to tell later!”
Oh my God, I’m an idiot. Thought Tweek as he grinned to himself. Of course, he was overcomplicating it. This was perfect. This was precise. This couldn’t be messed up with Tweek’s incessant shaking… and best of all, he could do this when Craig was asleep.
Craig Tucker was a notorious napper. More than once, he had come home, kissed Tweek in greeting, fed Stripe #9, flopped on the couch, and fallen asleep. Their Sundays usually consisted of a lazy morning together, deep cleaning, Craig putting in a load of laundry, followed by a nap until he woke to begin making dinner. Christ, how had Tweek not thought to take advantage of this habit yet?
It was Friday night. Tomorrow he could scour their house for any string and a Sharpie.
____
Tweek was in luck. They had some ribbon lying around, as well as some string in a long-forgotten crafting box. They were admittedly ambitious when they first leased their apartment. Tweek wanted to see if they could hang plants from the ceiling in string hanging baskets, and Craig wanted to upgrade the model planets on his dresser as a kid by hanging them. Neither project ever got done, but this, in Tweek’s opinion, was a much better use of string than hanging objects from the ceiling that would either die or collect dust and probably entice a spider to build her web on. This would, hopefully, be something permanent.
Tweek attempted to hide his eagerness the rest of the night. He was almost giddy - he felt like a kid on Christmas, only one sleep away from such a big day. Craig, who was used to his mood rising and plummeting, kept him grounded as they spent most of the day together. When Tweek could barely contain his excitement, he made up a bullsh*t excuse about needing to work for his client and pissed a few good hours away with his piano, mic, and editing software. He may as well get something productive out of this non-caffeinated burst of energy.
Sunday rolled around quickly. Tweek woke before Craig, as per usual, and laid next to his boyfriend for upwards of half an hour before the other man stirred. Most of the time, Tweek took to alternating between holding Craig’s hands and stroking the contours of his face delicately with his fingertips. When Craig’s eyelids eventually fluttered and he woke, he took Tweek’s hand, which was currently running up and down his cheek, and brought his fingertips up to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to each one. Tweek flushed at being caught but smiled at his sleepy boyfriend regardless, pulling him in for a quick peck before getting out of bed. “Brush your teeth, man. Your breath smells awful.”
He could hear Craig sigh and snuggle back into the bed as he got up to brew a pot of coffee. Perfect. Their lazy Sunday was off to a great start.
After breakfast was eaten, a warm bath was taken together, and a half hour was dedicated to Craig’s Sunday skincare routine, it was nearing the time Craig would load up the laundry machine before going off for a nap. Tweek busied himself with setting out ingredients for a batch of brownies - something to keep him occupied and Craig off his case until the other man drifted off on the couch.
As he measured the dry ingredients, Tweek kept a careful ear out. He could hear the telltale sound of the washing machine open, Craig monologuing to their guinea pig about… something. The machine started up, and a lack of movement. Good. Craig was making sure that the load was even and everything was in working order before he’d flop down on the couch.
Like clockwork, Craig’s footfalls paused by the kitchen. “Babe?”
“Hmm?” Tweek kept his tone light as he decidedly kept his eyes on his task.
“Gonna nap. Let me know when the machine goes off?”
“Course, man! Go, go.”
He couldn’t believe how f*cking easy this was.
He could hear Craig settle in and turn the TV on. Something mindless was playing, probably either a documentary or some reality TV show, something Craig didn’t get absorbed in. A good ten minutes passed, and Tweek put his brownies in the oven and snuck into the living room.
Tweek always enjoyed looking at Craig, but he especially liked seeing the other man sleep. The tension melted off his face, and the socially acceptable mask of raising his brows, cheeks, and eyes was nowhere to be seen. His bitch face was on full display, his mouth slightly ajar, and he was, in Tweek’s opinion, absolutely beautiful.
After a cursory glance up and down his body to look for any tension, Tweek darted out of the room and back to the kitchen. He’d stashed the string in a junk drawer on Saturday, ensuring he’d have a short trip to and from Craig and an inconspicuous place to put his supplies. It was genius. It was simple. It was perfect.
Tweek tiptoed to stand right beside Craig, then slowly knelt, holding his breath. He silently thanked whoever was listening when his knees didn’t crack during his descent. Now came the tricky part.
Craig’s right hand was at his side while his left was laid gently on his stomach. This was good news for Tweek, he wouldn’t have to manoeuvre Craig significantly. He quietly unspooled some of the string, fed it through his teeth, and held the end in his hand. This way, there was no possibility of dropping the entire thing on Craig and waking him up, nor would it mean he would have any trouble picking up any excess. He would just have to be careful to give himself enough.
He carefully uncapped the Sharpie, laying it on the floor near the couch. He was ready.
He leaned over Craig, tugged at the string in his hand to elongate the piece, and then carefully, ever so delicately, lifted Craig’s fingers. He positioned his free hand to hold Craig’s hand up and give himself support to keep the string taut when the time came.
After taking a deep breath, he began wrapping the piece of string around his finger, starting between his ring and pinkie finger. He held the string in place with a finger on his his supporting hand as he repositioned his main hand to finish wrapping. Once he finished, he used his thumb and pinkie of his supporting hand to keep the string perfectly still. He reached behind himself with his main hand and picked up the Sharpie. He marked the overlap, shoved the Sharpie in his mouth, then quickly slackened the string to move it up to Craig’s knuckle, marked that overlap, which was a little wider, and then slowly, ever so slowly, returned Craig’s hand back to its original position.
Once Tweek was finished with his task, heart pounding harder than it had in recent memory and his hands beginning to tremble, he sat back on his haunches and finally let out the breath he had been holding the entire time. He gathered his supplies sloppily in his arms and left the room on shaky legs. He practically collapsed against the wall when he made it back into the kitchen, a dumb, goofy grin plastered on his face.
I did it.
I’m going to buy this man the perfect ring.
______
Tweek brandished the string at his two friends proudly, showing off the two Shaprie marks he’d made. “But after all that, I still haven’t taken it in to — to actually get it sized… but I figured we could do that while we look at style — agh — right?”
He was met with two blinding smiles. Bebe seemed amused whereas Wendy seemed… soft? “Sure, Tweek.” She said, patting his arm. “Good work.”
Tweek grinned back.
"Let's go find a ring."
