Working at the local animal shelter was the only place Tweek felt truly welcomed. The animals weren't unpredictable and unreadable like humans. If they didn't like you, they'd let you know. Dogs didn't make fun of you. Lizards didn't trick you into their schemes. Birds didn't shit-talk you behind your back. (Actually, some might, but only if they were repeating what a person said.)

     It was almost like the animals saw something in him that people didn't. It was as if he were one of them, scared and trembling in a world of unfriendly faces. Many of the shelter's residents were abused by past owners, and maybe Tweek was too.

     The leaders of Sunny South Sanctuary recognized Tweek's connection to the animals, so every time a new rescue came in, he was the first person they called to help. This time it was an adorable pitbull named Rosie, rescued from the home of an old man who had neglected her. She was malnourished and trembling in the back of the van, so Tweek whispered gentle things to her and stroked her face and offered her little milkbones (which she gobbled up). While she was crunching on a few, he slipped a pink collar over the preoccupied dog's neck and clipped it, quickly attaching a short leash. When Rosie had finished her biscuits, Tweek lead her into the building and to the vet's department, offering her another treat every few steps, just for a little extra encouragement.

     Dr.Black said he'd take it from there, and told Tweek the supervisor wanted to talk to him. So he went to the office, tugging nervously on his T-shirt's* hem.  He knocked softly on the door, opening it gently after hearing a "come in" from the other side.

    There, standing by Wendy's desk, was the most attractive boy Tweek had ever seen. He was tall, broad-shouldered, wearing a grey sweatshirt with a guinea pig on it and a cute blue-and-yellow chullo hat. Soft black hair peeked out from under it to partially cover stormy, disinterested eyes. Ah, and that strong jawline...

     Tweek quickly looked away, his face going red. It took him a moment to realize that Wendy was talking to him. "Ah, Tweek! Craig here is a new volunteer, and I was hoping you could show him around since you've worked here for so long!" Tweek's eyes went wide, and he let out a small squeak. "W-wait! I-I... you want me to show him around? What if I screw something up an-and teach him the wrong thing and-- augh!-- that's too much pressure!" His fingers flew up to his hair, tugging anxiously. Wendy spoke softly, "Tweek, you'll do fine. You've worked here for two years, and I trust you with this. Don't worry. All you have to do is give him a brief tour, 'kay?" "Okay..." he whispered hoarsely, eyes flickering over to... to Craig. That was a nice name. Craig. Oh, dammit, now Craig probably thought he was a total weirdo! A freak! A failu- "Dude, be careful, you'll pull out your hair."

     It took Tweek a second to realize the deep, nasally voice (which he actually found endlessly pleasant to listen to) was addressing him. He forced himself to release his grip, hands falling back to the hem of his shirt again, still twitching. There were those eyes again, staring at him not with disgust or annoyance, but... amusement? Tweek's head tilted sideways as he tried to interpret Craig's expression.

     "Alright, well, have fun, you too! Craig, don't hesitate to ask questions. Tweek knows his way around the shelter quite well now. And Tweek, don't worry. You're one of our best volunteers. You'll do fine." Tweek nodded, turning towards the door. His face felt hot as Craig held it open for him. This was... gah. A lot. Of pressure. 

*i found this pic and immediately thought it was something tweek would wear