So i realized i wanted to draw a very sketchy and sheesy serirei (kind of platonic?? whatever you wanna take it lol) comic ;u; also with some bad English grammars but anyways!
i think Seri knows…and is just up to Reigen to open up more with him about that.. :V i thought on this idea after reading chapter 6 of REIGEN manga.. ;u;
creek smut | rough sex | but ultimately super sappy, they’re in love
formatted version on ao3 : here
5k :3
tweek was pretty fucking fed up with this.
he stood tiredly, and very much– aggravated ( for a lack of a better word ), in the doorway of their office. it was originally just another bedroom, barely, it was barely bordering on the size of someone’s closet. craig worked languidly at his laptop, groaning into his palms.
because unlike tweek, he’s a notorious procrastinator. he wasn’t in top of his shit 24/7 like he is. it takes him all the way up until receiving a very passive aggressive email from one of his classmates to get his shit together and bullshit his way through another assignment.
well, one of the perks of being decently smart is that he half-assed well enough to always pass. but, still not smart enough to take account of deadlines. he’d spend days giving it a ; “good look over”, as he called it, and the other small part actually doing it.
the sound of metal clinking brought him up out of his hands, looking over his shoulder and swiveling his chair back. tweek. tweek was stirring a mug full of tea for himself, and carried another, hooking his fingers of the same hand into the handle. craig lazily smiled.
“hey, babe,” he motioned for tweek to come closer. he did not. “sleep well?”
tweek humph-ed at him, resting a hand onto his hip. very straightforwardly, he said “fuck you.” craig’s smile dropped. he furrowed his brows at him.
“what?” despite this, tweek still came to set craig’s tea onto the desk. craig pat his hip in appreciation, but tweek shimmied away from him. this was very confusing, too many mixed signals. “baby, what’s the matter?”
“you keep leaving me lonely all night, man.” tweek mumbled in annoyance. craig grabbed for him, but tweek refused to budge. “you can’t keep doing this shit,” he gestured to the chair, his hands moving more furiously while he talked. common signs of a pissed off tweek. craig was a little intimidated. “‘cause you complain about your back hurting and shit. and being tired. and i fucking miss you.”
craig frowned. “‘m not doin’ it on purpose, honey, i’m sorry.” but tweek just huffed at him indignantly. “don’t be like this. please.” tweek gave him an unwavering stare for a solid few seconds. until, finally, he sighed aloud.
craig got hopeful. “whatever,” the bite behind it stung, and that hope was soon gone, that just made it worse. tweek turned harshly to leave, but craig made grabby-hands for him like a toddler. tweek stayed in the doorway again. “what do you want?” he sounded frustrated, his voice nearly breaking. he wasn’t as angry as he was just plain upset.
“for you to lose the fucking attitude?” craig shot back instantly. whoops. tweek turned back again, more erratically and fueled. “wait- fuck,” tweek, by some grace of god, turned back.
the undeniable sadness in his eyes just made craig ache. he extended out his leg a bit, patting his thigh for tweek to sit. “stay with me?”
“i don’t want to watch you do this all day again.” his fingers clutched at the doorframe. craig let out a shaky sigh, putting out his hands sort of just feeling defeated. tweek prodded him with a look, he quirked his brow at him expectantly. craig sighed again.
“i don’t know.” he said. tweek stood there a little longer, letting his arms fall loosely at his sides.
eventually, he trudged over to accept craig’s invite into his lap. craig’s arms were promptly around him , seeking contact from his body– he was worried, sue him. a small kiss was placed into his blonde hair, but tweek dropped his head and ultimately avoided it. craig was, now, even more crushed.
“tweek.” he persisted. tweek gave a short whine. his body was trembling, this could mean nothing good. this meant tweek was already pushed past saving him from a breakdown. this meant craig was in trouble. he was fucked. craig’s insides just coiled further. “come on. stop this.”
“stop what?” tweek said petulantly. craig brushed his fingers along his shoulder, and tweek was squirming. but craig wasn’t planning on just letting him go. tweek gave a few meager inept punches to his shoulder. craig only held him tighter to his chest.
tweek, subsequently, just gave up. his ultimately smaller body had no use fighting out of his resilient hold. he slumped into his arms instead. “talk to me, baby.” craig murmured. “please?”
it didn’t take long for a sob to tear through tweek. his shoulders shook with effort, hiccuping weakly. “you don’t want me anymore.” his voice was so small and pitiful.
“what?” craig sputtered. “tweek, you’re insane.”
tweek persisted. “you don’t. you don’t spend time with me. you don’t love me,” craig shushed him from delving into his mantra, but that only seemed to frustrate him worse.
“don’t, baby. please,” craig’s hands clung to tweek’s sweater for comfort.
“i miss us.” tweek continued.
“babe,”
“you don’t come lay with me anymore.”
“tweek.”
“you don’t love me like you used to. you don’t even touch me like you used to.”
“honey,”
“you didn’t eat with me last night, even.” tweek cried into his chest. “you barely kiss me. we haven’t had sex in weeks, craig.”
craig cupped his face, firmly. “tweek.” tweek stopped. he just sniffled. “stop it.” he lifted tweek by the chin to face him, swiping a tear from his cheek. tweek’s frown deepened. “you’re horribly wrong, i still love you, babe. it’s not your fault.” he leaned in to gently peck his lips, but tweek dodged it.
“you’re an asshole.” tweek weakly punched into craig’s chest again. and, craig let him. “i hate you right now.” well, there was a ‘right now’ bit, at least.
craig held him again, tweek writhing and fighting against him. “i know.” he sighed. “i’m sorry. it’s got nothing to do with you. i wanna fix this, but you have to let me.” it took a little for tweek to still his fists. he looked defeated, now.
a few beats of silence. the tension was palpable, and craig despised it. “okay?” he tried.
tweek slumped further into him, his nose smushed into his chest. “i don’t know what to say.” craig brought him back up to look at him. craig kissed his temple, and tweek actually let him this time around.
“stay with me, please? we can watch something. do you wanna watch something?” craig soothed tweek’s scalp, slowly twisting at the strands of his hair.
tweek diminished into his hand. “nuh uh,” he murmured almost childishly.
“what do you wanna do?” he didn’t say anything for a little, and tweek began to shift up out of his lap silently. “babe?”
“i’m tired,” he persisted on trying to get up. craig still was firm. “i want to go to bed.”
“i’ll come with you,” craig reached a hand out for his laptop to tilt the screen about 45 degrees. tweek snatched at his wrist.
“no.”
“no?”
“no. we can talk later.” by that, it meant tweek would go wallow away for the entire day. and once it sank in again, he’d be more agitated than now. and that sort of levels is good for nobody involved.
tweek was just plain being petty now. craig was not having it.
he grabbed tweek’s chin again, stroking his jaw. “stop.” craig gave him a hard glare that made tweek stiffen. it gave him full body chills. “quit fighting me.”and he slowly captured his lips in a fervent kiss. so much so it made tweek whimper against his lips.
and, tweek was kissing back pretty much instantaneously.
craig was pouring every last bit of all of his emotions into it, clutching tweek’s jaw and carding his fingers into tweek’s hair. craig forgot how good it felt to make out with his boyfriend. tweek was sucking at his bottom lip like a fucking leech, lapping his tongue around his mouth and making small mewls into it which craig happily swallowed into the back of his throat. he has really missed this.
craig ran his hands down his body, caressing his back. their teeth were clicking, missing each others lips, bumping noses and saliva pooling. it felt like they were inexperienced teenagers again. where it felt it was fueled by the anticipatory, perfervid hunger, and excitement of having close contact with each other.
and yeah, hormones, too. craig was, now, also helplessly horny, and tweek wasn’t helping any. the want to hold onto his body was now mixed with the need to hold his body down and fuck into him for the rest of the morning.
his lips were quickly coaxing tweek to sag into him, breathing hard out his nose. craig felt it tickle the skin of his cheek. tweek’s shaking hands found purchase in the fabric of craig’s sweats, pinching and pulling. his petty demeanor was being melded away at, his fingernails digging into craig’s thighs and gently rocking his hips into him. the slightest bit of affection given, and tweek would be all his.
and thinking back to what tweek was upset about; yeah, craig came up empty in trying to recount the last time he truly paid any kind of this attention towards him. it explained his eagerness. ( both of theirs, truthfully. ) tweek was missing getting kissed goodnight. getting held in craig’s arms to help him sleep. all of that, obviously, but he was also missing out on an overdue satisfying pounding.
he was being deprived, unfairly. he likes to think he has every right to be this greedy straight of the bat. sometimes, he just wants dick, dammit. that’s fair.
craig was the first to pull back, quick to move down to his neck and press wet, messy kisses to any exposed skin. he toyed with the hem of his sweater, before insistently tugging on it. “take your fucking clothes off.” he mumbled into tweek’s ear, giving it a quick nip as he yanked his boyfriend closer, curling one arm under tweek’s waist and bracing him back onto the desk behind them, pressing his back flat into it.
tweek didn’t exactly process it all that quick, instead mewling in surprise. “now.” he urged hastily. when tweek finally acquiesced it, craig was already shoving it off his body himself and discarding it off to the floor. he was wasting no time. craig was usually slow with him.
with tweek’s torso being exposed, craig dropped his head to his neck again, nipping at his skin briskly, rubbing circles into his prominent hipbones. tweek’s body twitched needily, ankles locking around craig’s body, hand clutching to the top of the desk for leverage. craig worked his teeth into his pale skin, glistening already with a light sheen of sweat, utterly fixated on marking the entire expanse of his flesh.
craig finally trailed from the of fragile skin of tweek’s protruding collarbone to the base of his sternum. he lingered there long enough to inhale deeply through his nose, gaze flickering up to tweek’s face. so pretty, and already ruined. bringing a hand up from tweek’s hip, he deliberately flicked over his nipple with his thumb. tweek unconsciously kicked out a leg and let out a strained, strangled sob, shivering in oversensitivity already.
craig gave a few more hard periods of his sinking his teeth into various parts of his shallow stomach, relishing in how his muscles twitched. he alternated between his nipples for a minute or so, and then tapped his side, signaling for him to turn over. but tweek just mewled dumbly, brain already scrambled. craig stopped touching him, which made tweek cry out again. some tears wet tweek’s bottom lashes as he wailed from the sudden loss of contact.
“huh?” tweek whimpered. craig simply just chose to grab him firmly by his hips, manhandling him and maneuvering him over. craig pushed his knee under him to hold him up momentarily, tweek’s body becoming easily pliable for craig to meld. craig gave an appreciative slap to his thigh, hooking his fingers into the waistband of tweek’s boxers and pulling them to just about half past his thighs. craig caressed the back of one, his hand almost big enough to cover the entire circumference of it. he smirked, pleased with himself to feel how hard tweek’s legs were already trembling.
with his other hand, he spread open tweek’s ass. digging into the soft flesh firmly, appreciating his body. he’s a bony little thing, sure, but he’s got an ass on him. tweek wriggled his hips back to obediently present himself to craig, peeking back behind his shoulder to look at him.
craig took a few more seconds to salivate over him, and then clapped the side of it appreciatively. it elicited an obscenely loud slap, making tweek flinch on impact, eyes fluttering closed and jaw clenching. what was left behind was a pink handprint. craig smiled a bit, pleased with himself.
“craig,” tweek mewled, gyrating his hips back over craig’s knee. craig huffed, getting to his knees, hands holding tweek against the desk firmly. he didn’t hesitate to sink his fucking teeth into him. after a series of fruitless kicks of protest from tweek, craig just continued, leaving harsh marks right into him. eating his ass, literally, if you will. no? alright.
no matter how hard tweek tried to pull away, craig wouldn’t let him. tweek did enjoy the sensation of craig’s large, calloused hands caressing his sides and his thumbs pressing harshly into his spine. craig began to slide his tongue over him, too, and tweek groaned in satisfaction. he reached one of his own hands back to hold into craig’s hair, gripping hard into the curls and twisting his fingers through them.
much too focused on the task at hand, craig’s tongue was everywhere now, lapping over every part of tweek’s ass. except, he was diligently neglecting his hole. tweek let out another squeal. craig had the urge to give grace for what he was being presented, tweek was fucking unreal. mentally laughing in his mind, he did. he’s a good religious boy at heart, his mother would be proud.
gracias señor por estos alimentos. he stared at how tweek 's soft, pretty cock was weeping cum onto the desk. y bendice las manos que los prepararon ( not really, fuck his parents.) taking note of the fact the he was completely fucking shaven. how long had he’d been anticipating this? amen. releasing a hand from tweek’s side, craig gently cupped his balls, gradually applying pressure with his fingertips and then pinching softly at the skin of his perineum.
tweek was twitching too hard to make it really easy, and craig was only teasing. he wasn’t going out of his way to pay attention to what he really wanted craig to. craig was usually the insistently giving type, but not now. craig could be petty, too.
once he pulled back from him, the scene displayed out was rewarding. overwhelmingly so. tweek had red and purpling teeth marks all over his milky, supple skin. they’d be there for a while, and them bruising would have to hurt, craig supposed. he reminded himself mentally to make sure to give tweek a lot more extra kisses and a nice, sympathetic back rub after this. he would need it. and maybe dinner, too.
he instinctively went to kiss the weltering marks, gently pecking a few. to be a little nicer, he looped an arm under tweek’s body and wrapped his fingers around tweek’s cock. he was aching already. he gave a few gentle tugs, and rolled his thumb around the pink slit. with his free hand, he tugged on the back of tweek’s head by his hair, forcing his head up. he leaned over to meet his ear, sucking at it before grunting.
“you’re so eager for me, hmm?” tweek nodded absentmindedly. “you want this so bad don’t you? such a good fucking boy.”
with the combination of the previous stimulation from grinding over craig’s knee, and this, it sent tweek spasming quickly, crying loudly with sobs racking his body as he came into craig’s hand right on the words. quick, thick spurts covered his fingers and a few stray drops landed onto the desk beneath him. craig grinned puckishly, tenaciously working his thumb on the swollen tip for a prolonged amount of time.
“craig, nghh, please, please,” he sobbed, he sounded wrecked. his raspy, shaky cries stirred all of craig’s insides up. craig didn’t let up, not until tweek’s muscles clamped so hard that his legs locked tight. in the darkened screen of craig’s laptop, he could see the reflection of tweek’s blissed out face. brows knitted together, eyes glazed over and brimming with tears, mouth slack. completely just, perfect.
he looked like he was on some kind of high, his drained out eyes were fixated now, looking straight into craig’s soul. his eyes are so fucking alluring, it’s downright unfair. ( and cruel, honestly, his dick could barely keep up. ) tweek was a fucking beautiful mess. his entire body was trembling and quivering, craig wanted to fold him over and fuck into his smaller frame until he broke. fucking christ, he looked good like this.
craig didn’t plan on giving him any pity for being pretty, however. craig used the middle finger of his left hand, dripping with tweek’s cum, to gently trace a circle around his pink, exposed hole. just on the outside of the puckered ring, not quite able to penetrate him more than just with the tip of his finger. tweek whimpered, another feeble cry tearing through him. tears spilling and running down his flushed cheeks, temple gleaming with sweat, drips of spit hanging off his bottom lip. sweat soaked his hair and it matted against his forehead. so sensitive without even getting properly fucked yet.
craig was instantly slamming open a drawer within the desk looking for anything to use as lube. there weren’t many options. tweek’s needy little noises were being drowned out by the sound of useless clattering. there was a small vat of unscented hand lotion. would have to do. another mental reminder to make tweek something decent for breakfast, too. and watch house hunters with him.
craig unscrewed the lid and slicked up his index, middle, and ring fingers. it was thick, and cold. he slid his middle finger inside of tweek, using the lotion as lubrication. he got it down to about his knuckle, tweek was sucking him in. he was fucking tight. that both intimidated him and aroused him. it felt like his dick was nearly swollen with arousal already, pulsing and throbbing within the constraints of his clothes. tweek was too short for him to really be able to reach craig’s pelvis. that made it so craig was unable to grind up into him or anything, so he had to make it quick.
which was sort of unfortunate for craig, he was trying to prolong this for as long as possible and give his same energy back. he loves tweek, god, does he— but he’s a brat. and, tweek also makes him terribly horny terribly quick. watching tweek come apart, twitching and groaning and moaning, from such simple gestures was way too easy for him. and that got craig going every single time.
craig gave him no real time to adjust, quickly squeezing in his ring finger. it was honestly a struggle. craig took a hand and placed it firmly onto tweek’s shoulder, pushing his own body back to create a little gap for more arm room.
he gradually is picking up the pace with his fingers, a loud squelching noise following. it isn’t like tweek doesn’t know how to take dick– he’s gripping around him and releasing, but he’s not relaxing. “jesus, tweek. when’s the last time you opened yourself up?” he’s gently stroking his back now to try and soothe him a little. he wasn’t a total asshole.
tweek grunted, knees almost buckling. “ngh, other night, dunno.”
craig lovingly pinched his side. “you’re clamping down on me. guess your just a natural fucking whore,” he slipped in his last finger. it was mean– or sounded that way. but craig knows tweek likes it, he shuddered, getting all bambi legged, almost toppling over. craig would have to help support him eventually.
his poor boyfriend was writhing and sobbing, blubbering and hiccuping, throat raw and hoarse. usually, when tweek was crying, his instinct is to hold him all protective like. but that was a different kind of cry. that was a ‘holy shit i am going to explode’ kind of cry. this was a ‘holy shit i am going to explode. but in a good way’, kind of cry. but still craig had the instinct to get all lovey-dovey on him, gently kissing him up and telling him he’s gonna be okay, praising him.
but he still jammed in and out of tweek, all until his ass felt less constricted, just the slightest bit. keeping his fingers in, he shuffled back up to tweek. tweek struggled, but he got onto his tip-toes, this made it so his ass bumped just below his cock. craig let out the quietest groan, removing his fingers and ignoring the way tweek wailed about it, and wiped them down tweek’s lean thigh.
craig untied his sweats, tugging them til they were bunched at his ankles, and in a hurried swoop, did the same with his boxers.
tweek shivered in absolute fear ( and delight ) at the feeling of craig’s cock slapping just over his back. he whimpered, in concern for himself, because fuck is he hard. tweek was dubious on if he’d be able to walk very well, let alone stand. judging on craig’s previous roughness, it wasn’t likely.
if craig didn’t know better and wasn’t already used to it, the sight of just how fucking huge his dick looked laying flat against tweek’s back should’ve been uncanny. and not to say that it wasn’t, it absolutely was. it nudged just to a few inches below the middle of tweek’s back. it was abnormal how tweek was able to take it, craig would’ve felt horrible if he didn’t know how much tweek liked it.
craig began to slather up his own cock with the remnants of what was left in the tub of lotion, grunting at how bad he needed it. he was aching. tweek eagerly wiggled back into him.
usually, they were accustomed to getting around their height difference. and not just sex wise, either. tweek was used to having to tug craig down for kisses and such, he’d never stop complaining about it ever since craig did gain his growth spurt. there was nothing craig could really do other than take it, i mean, wasn’t his fault his dad was an enormous guy.
however, right now, it was pretty apparent. and sort of an issue, tweek wouldn’t be able to keep up on his toes, that’s for damn sure. craig thought for a moment, and suddenly, gripped tweek below the waist and lifting him up from the floor ever so slightly. tweek kicked his feet a bit disgruntled. with no warning, craig prodded tweek’s hole for a second, or two, and then just shoved right in. tweek sputtered out a cry so high in volume it was barely even registered as audible.
craig’s fingers stay put, dragging along just above his pelvis, just barely missing his cock. all on purpose. as he scraped his dick in further, he felt a bump protruding from the little cavity that was tweek’s stomach from his cock pounding into him. jesus christ.
“good fucking boy,” he punctuated each word with a slam into his ass, digging his nails into tweek’s skin. tweek just went completely limp, his limbs sagging uselessly. to be honest, he sort of felt like a fleshlight. both because of the way he was being held, and also of the way he was being fucked into relentlessly. craig’s pace was brutal, and punishing. he felt delirious, and dizzy, a tiny bit.
craig tirelessly bounced him off and on his cock, a stinging sensation coursing through tweek’s body. not in a way that hurt too bad, but just, overwhelming? his legs were shaking, having nothing to rest onto. it was a lot for tweek, which made it all the more nice for craig to watch. and to feel the way he would react to his every stroke.
beads of sweat forming along craig’s forehead from the intensity. he was getting a tad weak in the knees, too. half of his strength was going to keeping tweek up. the other half was going to thrusting into him as fast as he was. eventually, he hoisted tweek up enough to balance him back on one knee, looping an arm securely around his waist. he took his now free hand and gripped onto tweek’s hair, tipping his head back.
craig bit down onto his ear, causing tweek to jerk in shock. the biting soon turned into nibbling, working the lobe tediously between his teeth. craig began scratching, digging his nails into his scalp. it was going until tweek was wincing, biting on his bottom lip. it almost drew blood.
craig grunted loudly, losing his hold with his teeth. he panted into tweek’s ear. “you fucking wanted this to happen, didn’t you?” tweek simply whimpered in response, clutching desperately at craig’s wrist. the hair pulling did somewhat hurt, he had a tender scalp from years of abusing it when he was little, ( sometimes now, even ). “i think you did.”
in contrast, however, craig was giving him gentle pecks to the side of his face following each heavy thrust. tweek already felt thoroughly used, his body just dangling, he felt like some sort of ragdoll. body shaking with sobs. but, he felt good, he didn’t want craig to stop. the pressure of craig’s hips slamming against his aching prostate was heavenly. tweek had been craving this, wanting this. he just forgot that craig could drive him this crazy. he liked being worn out like this.
craig grabbed him closer, somehow, and pulled out half way before slamming back in. tweek kicked a bit involuntarily, his mouth going agape, eyes crossing, saliva threatening to leave his lips.
craig was close. he’s been close ever since tweek was gyrating onto his thigh. seeing him desperate is his thing. to be fair, tweek is just kind of his thing. tweek could do anything during sex and he’d be more than happy to endure it, he thinks. his insides were coiling. he wasn’t sure how much longer he had. or how much more strength he had left.
tweek’s body was pulling back, clamping over craig’s cock. “craig,” he had other words to say, but he couldn’t articulate them. they turned into incomprehensible murmurs and cries. craig pulled on his hair and turned his head to the side, kissing him.
it was mostly tongue. craig kept tweek’s head firm with the grip on his hair. tweek was clumsily missing his mouth. mainly cut off by all of the noises leaving his lips. he was losing his voice. he couldn’t muster anything more than stupid whimpers and mumbling craig’s name. craig was giving him gentle kisses along his bottom lip and chin, not minding the copious amount of saliva. he looked beautiful all fucked out.
tweek’s eyes unfocused, drooping, and stuttering closed as he came again. his dick went flaccid, cum painting the underside of his stomach and the desk. craig huffed heavily at the tightening sensation. he dropped tweek’s hair and focused all of his last bits of strength into holding him around the middle, securing him to the flat top.
his fingertips almost touched. that was fucking insane.
craig let out a long, extensive strings of curses. he locked his knees to hold himself firmly to the ground, sinking down to lay his chest over tweek’s back and biting into tweek’s shoulder. tweek couldn’t do anything other than moan and cry, hands trembling along with literally every other one of the muscles in his body. still spasming and fluttering around craig’s vigorous, relentless movements. his head lolled over the cool surface beneath him.
craig was losing his composure, the anticipation of his orgasm making him cave. with a stuttering, harsh series of pulling tweek back down onto his cock, tweek struggling to keep taking it. he bit down onto tweek’s shoulder harder, letting a muffled “fuck.” strain through his lips as he unloaded into him. his calves strained, struggling to stay up. he leaned a bit more into tweek, searching for support, despite tweek being the one relying off of craig’s.
panting, he let his head hang. sweaty, warm, tight, holy fuck.
what pulled him from it was tweek’s unfaltering sobs. the protectiveness consumed craig again. he used his very last ounce of strength to carefully slip out of tweek, giving a few final tugs on his sensitive cock, letting the last drops of his release falling over tweek’s back. taking a quick second to look him over, he gave a gentle pat to his side, huffing out a breath and linking his arms underneath tweek’s, pulling him off the desk and hosting him up into his arms.
tweek let out hoarse little cries, and craig gently shushed them, wiping his weeping eyes with his thumb. “you did so good. so good.” tweek clutched onto his wrist for comfort. “did i hurt you? are you okay?”
tweek tiredly shook his head no. craig continued to wipe away his tears, half stumbling and half trying to retain his current strength enough to sit down into the rickety office chair. craig held him close, tweek bunching his knees to his chest to cover his shaking body. he felt vulnerable. he was quite physically exposed.
craig exhaled, and nudged his nose into tweek’s neck and kissed him, letting his lips stay firm. tweek relaxed enough to crane his neck and let his head rest atop of craig’s. tweek gently played with craig’s hair for comfort, still recovering.
they sat in silence, breathing hard. and after a second, craig stirred back up and nudged his knee into tweek’s leg resting over it. “shower?”
“please,” craig smiled a little, stroking tweek’s skin. “i love you, stop being a dick,” he said, chuckling breathlessly.
craig hummed a bit. “i love you too.” he kissed his neck again, and then got up with tweek in his arms towards the bathroom.
“babe.” kenny quietly grunted right into clyde’s ear. it was firm. but it was playful, too. a tad whiny. “come on, shush up.” and he followed it with a long little nip to his ear. clyde frustratedly mewled into kenny’s hand. it literally wasn’t fair, it was like it was on purpose. it had to be.
he’s already cum once, all right into kenny’s palm. he’s been jerking him off and working him open on two fingers for the past- fuck. he didn’t even know how long. all this to not already have gotten dicked down yet. his legs were already horribly shaking to keep himself propped up like this into the air. his dick went limp when he came, and then kenny started coaxing him back up by whispering shit into his ear and touching him just fucking right. he was over sensitive and it was a combo of insanely good and terrible all at once.
god. fuck his stupid boyfriend for knowing how to make his brain turn to mush.
it was so. god. damn. hot. kenny came over to swim, originally. but, they never made it to the pool. kenny didn’t even let clyde get the rest of his clothes off yet. he couldn’t remember the last time south park had been this inordinately hot. and, just overall miserable. the kind of sticky wet heat that’s unbearable.
or, maybe, it really wasn’t. but regardless, the combination of his jeans sticking to his legs and having to shove his face into the pillows was making him uncomfortably sweaty. he’s been pleading kenny to just finally- fuck him what felt like hours. like just. rip his damn jeans off and have at it. he didn’t care.
but, no. kenny instead would gently kiss his cheek, or nibble on it, either or. and flat out just ignore his pleading. he usually wasn’t the adamant on teasing him. he usually would’ve been nicer, kissing and praising him so gently— and until he was cumming dry into the sheets. but he was being so mean. he couldn’t take it anymore. his head felt like it was going to explode from frustration hormones and pure need.
“jesus fuck, ken.” clyde cried into kenny’s hand, his voice hoarse and shaky. “please. you’re being so mean to me.” he babbled desperately. kenny shushed him and wiped up the tears welling up into his eyes with his coarse thumb. he licked up his neck, planting tender little kisses along the way. and then he began working his teeth into his skin, making hard enough nibbles to leave red marks.
kenny was stroked clyde’s hair back, already matted to his forehead. clyde slumped against his mattress, losing his balance. kenny kept firm on top of him. clyde let his head loll into his pillows and he groaned, mouth agape as kenny made a line to his collarbone. kenny still had one hand quite literally occupied by being up his ass, and the other busy touching everywhere else.
okay. he’s sick of it.
“ken-ny.” clyde dragged out his name, lifting his head from the pillows. “nghhh, fuck me, please. please.” kenny pressed his lips into the hollow of clyde’s throat, sucking at the stupidly sensitive flesh there, before licking and biting down lightly. clyde choked on a breath and let out a strangled sob as kenny gave one final flick of his tongue on his adam’s apple.
and finally— in a motion that was way too quick for clyde to register, kenny lifted himself from off his back and stood up, yanking clyde up in his arms with him. clyde made a small yelp. if kenny wasn’t holding him so firm, he would’ve toppled over.
“stop fucking with me!” clyde made a soft pout, peering up at kenny through his eyelashes. kenny gave him a mocking pout, jutting his bottom lip out dramatically. clyde kicked his ankle, and kenny cut it out with a little snicker.
“okay.” kenny said in a low voice, rubbing clyde’s side. “what do i have to give you to shut you the fuck up?” clyde huffed indignantly.
“dick.” clyde grumbled.
“i can do that for you,” kenny hummed, letting his fingers dance across his shoulders. “but you have to be quiet, seriously.”
oh yeah. forgot to mention, but— also, fuck his dad for being home.
they were already way on with this when clyde heard his home security go off. and kenny had pulled off from kissing him to go quickly lock the bedroom door. he started on, telling clyde that he wasn’t sure he wanted his football coach—
because, apparently, when you’re like roger donovan; unmarried, both kids are kind of losers, you go coach varsity football
— to walk into clyde’s bedroom and find kenny just wrapped up in there blowing his sons back out. and then clyde told him to never use the phrase “blowing his back out” ever again. and kenny did. so clyde smacked him.
but clyde knew it was all bullshit. kenny really did not give that much of a flying fuck about being on the football team. he was only saying it to get clyde to beg. and against his pride, clyde did. he always did. he’s gotten used to it. and he fucking likes it, too.
clyde didn’t use any words to respond, he just whimpered and grabbed for kenny’s jaw and smashed their lips together. kenny made a small grunt in approval, hungrily attacking clyde’s bottom lip while he tried to pull him down again. clyde obliged. he wanted nothing more than kenny to just pin him to the bed. fuck him nice and good.
kenny laid clyde back onto the bed, coming to plop on his knees between his legs to lift them up and pull his jeans the rest of the way off him.
“these jeans are nice, look good on you.” tug. “where’re they from?” final tug. clyde kicked them off his ankles.
“craig thrifted them for me,” kenny grabbed at his boxers, which were already pulled down halfway past his hips. kenny hummed, tugging them off his feet.
“craig is gay.” another small hum. clyde gave a slow nod, but before he got a chance to laugh about it, kenny looped his arms underneath his thighs and laid his head between them. clyde shuddered. he kissed his inner thighs gently, peering up at him. wait for it. one, two, “you should consider sitting on my face, you know? i personally think it’s a good idea.” clyde squirmed a bit, kenny’s muffled voice tickling him.
“nuh uh. i’d literally suffocate you.” he whined, and then kenny raised an eyebrow at him.
“i’d literally not care?” kiss, kiss, kiss. “y’look so good for me, doll.” clyde instantaneously flushed. he flicked his forehead.
“do not call me that. you’re cringe.” kenny gave him another look.
“hmmm, i dunno. your dick is kinda leaking on my face.” kenny grabbed the base and gently kissed the tip. all quips died off from clyde, his breath hitching.
“f-fair,” kenny started lapping around it with his tongue and clyde’s eyes rolled back. the ball of kenny’s tongue piercing was rolling around the slit. he’s already been close to orgasming again like, ten minutes ago. “ken, stop. i’m close- nhhh, shit.” he gripped onto his hair, whimpering pathetically as kenny started swallowing around him. kenny gives some of the wettest, messiest head ever and it makes clyde insane a little bit.
his dick is so fucking sensitive. kenny placed both hands on either of his thighs and went all the way down until his nose was flush against his pelvis. oh, shit. he moved his tongue around. he began gently sucking at his balls. kenny gave him a little minuscule flick of his tongue right after, sending more and more shockwaves throughout his entire body. he panted, gripping for a pillow to drown out his moans again. he whined uselessly into it, going ham with his teeth against the fabric.
his hips began stuttering, legs shaking around kenny’s shoulders. he felt the feeling of anticipated burst in his abdomen, and carefully tugged at kenny’s hair to get him off his dick, what followed was a wet pop sort of noise and a small grunt. kenny watched out of breath as clyde spurted cum all over his stomach, seeing him shake.
kenny carefully wiped his mouth, and brought his hand to trace clyde’s tummy, poking him ever so lightly. he heard clyde’s muffled mewling and groans, legs dropping and gluing themselves to the bed. kenny kissed him on the stomach.
“y’ good?” kenny chuckled a little, clyde sluggishly whacked his shoulder in response. “got anything so i can clean you up?” clyde lifted the pillow off, his face sweaty and red, hair sticking. he looked a little dazed. he muttered something of a no. he lay limp, that is until he felt kenny dragging his tongue up his stomach and he instinctively went to fold his arms over himself.
“don’t do that!” clyde whined. kenny chuckled and mockingly pouted, lazily tracing into his skin.
“it starts to smell weird though.” kenny laid his head onto his chest, chin digging into his ribs. clyde softly stroked his hair, kenny closed his eyes softly and smiled in content.
“feels weird,” he murmured. “and i don’t like you staring at me so hard.” this made kenny crack an eye open at him.
“why not!” kenny gripped onto his slightly pudgy thigh with a stray hand. “lemme see you babe, you’re hot.” he shrugged his shoulders a bit, closing his eyes again.
“stop it!” he whined, holding his arms over his tummy self consciously. and with some random surge of energy, kenny stood up and went to the headboard. “ken?” but kenny shushed him and began wedging two pillows behind it and the wall. clyde silently got himself to flip over and arch his back. eventually, kenny came behind him, gripping onto his hips and bringing them back. he shuddered when he felt kenny’s now wet dick probing his hole, rubbing between his ass. he lightly smacked one side of it.
“you should let me eat you out.” clyde impatiently whacked the mattress. kenny made a low snicker and grabbed the base of his cock and lined himself up. while rubbing slow circles into clyde’s hip comfortingly, he pushed inside slow, hesitating a little to let clyde and himself adjust. with a reassuring groan from clyde, he slowly dragged himself deeper and clyde whimpered, jolting forward a little and whining into the sheets.
the pain wasn’t all too bad, albeit he was getting fingerfucked beforehand for a good minute. but the sensation still was overwhelming, bordering off the aftershocks of his last orgasm, his body was nearing going limp completely. kenny pressed their bodies flushed together, leaning his torso over his back and wrapping his arms around his middle, letting his head hang over clyde’s shoulder. with a shaky breath, he kissed his neck once, and then his shoulder.
kenny pulled out just a bit, groaning into clyde’s shoulder. pausing for a moment, and then slamming right back in, nudging his prostate. it elicited a loud slap from their skin contact, and even worse, clyde’s bed still creaked anyway. that made them both jump back. kenny stilled for a second and clyde looked up from the pillow.
“your dad is definitely gonna hear that.” kenny whispered, immediately going to slowly pull out. clyde felt so fucking good, and he clenched impossibly tight around him as he did, not trying to let go of the feeling of finally getting to be full. he whimpered softly, grinding his hips back into nothing. “we gotta move.” kenny took a look around clyde’s bedroom.
“to where?” clyde whimpered, shifting to lay flat onto the bed. kenny hummed and the suddenly pat his back.
“the wall?” kenny rubbed his side. also, silently hoping he’d say yes. he’s been itching to try it. but, clyde merely shook his head.
“i can’t stand,” he whined and pouted. kenny nodded understandingly and leaned down to kiss his shoulder briefly. another pause to think. he pat his back again and eased off of him, standing up by the bed.
“alright, let me help you up.” clyde took his hand, and expecting to just get yanked up ( and kind of hoping, too. because god is he eager ), but kenny gently got him to stand. he walked him over to his fucking desk chair, and kenny sat down with a small little smirk. he pat his lap.
“you’re insane,” he whined, whilst still easing into his lap. kenny almost instantly got his hands on him. he very openly, and proudly, loved feeling him up. it wasn’t a secret honestly. he sucked onto his shoulder and put both hands onto his waist, digging his fingers into his soft flesh. clyde turned his head back pressed stray pecks into his cheeks.
kenny trailed his hands up, not hesitating to flick his thumb over his nipple. clyde mewled in surprise. and,“you should let me pierce these.” kenny notoriously did piercings in the school bathroom for cash. he also did all of his own, and would always try to talk clyde into letting him do one. it was always a no.
“im not letting you pierce my fucking nipples!” kenny fake pouted for a moment, and then he stole a little peck from clyde. clyde huffed, and began to grind slowly back onto his dick impatiently. kenny gripped him tighter and softly whimpered, his eyes drooping. clyde gripped his jaw and pecked his lips. kenny rubbed circles into his hips.
“you don’t wanna face me?” kenny’s voice was a little softer than before.
“you want me to?” kenny nodded sheepishly and clyde snorted. he maneuvered his body around and kenny instantly wrapped his arms around him again so they could be as close as possible. clyde pressed messy kisses along his jawline, lifting his body up a little so he would be able to reach under himself. he linked his fingers around the base of kenny’s cock and dropped his hips over it to position it correctly, and carefully slid down on him, shuddering and his mouth agape.
kenny immediately just kissed him. mainly to cut off any noises. saying in love is cheesy and all but kenny definitely was a tad insane about clyde. surprisingly, clyde started instantly rocking back and forth on his dick, kenny continually swallowing all his whimpers and moans. he eventually shrugged out a shoulder for clyde to instead rest his head into to quiet his noises.
when clyde pulled away, kenny looked up at him, tears in his dazed out eyes spilling down his cheeks, lips parted. kenny kissed away a tear. when they first started having sex, clyde had to reassure him for a while that him crying wasn’t because he was in pain. he said it was because he felt good, but kenny also knows he’s sensitive in general. it was easy to overwhelm him. the pure vulnerability of it was so indescribably sexy. and hearing him groan and cry on his cock was absolutely wonderful.
“you’re doing so good.” kenny rasped. he kissed his tear stained cheeks over and over. “so good.” clyde slumped over and pressed his nose into the crook of his neck. kenny just kept his hands onto his waist, rubbing into his sides. clyde continued to slam down onto him, his body trembling more and more each time. kenny wasn’t sure how long he was gonna last.
clyde, on the other hand, took just a few more thrusts to still completely and bite down roughly into his shoulder. his cry was muffled. he came all over kenny’s stomach, writhing and letting tears fall onto his shoulder. kenny groaned at how much tighter he became, putting his hands under his thighs. he took a second before starting to bounce him slowly on his dick.
“kenny, kenny,” he sobbed into his shoulder. kenny grunted and shushed him, kissing the side of his face and slowing down his thrusts. clyde’s breath evened out eventually, the only sound being the soft slap of their skin coming into contact with each other. when clyde relaxed back down into his lap, kenny’s finger traced lazy circles on his lower back. clyde sighed and bit his lip. his body felt like jelly.
“almost done, babe.” kenny said between his teeth. clyde murmured something, coming up to look at him with bleary eyes. “you’re so cute.” that made clyde furrow his brows at him.
“cute is a weird word,” he whined between pants. “i am not cute.”
“yeah you are. you might think you’re all handsome and buff— and you are for sure,” he grinned a bit. “one of those things.” clyde smacked his arm weakly. “but you’re like— also cute, y’know?” clyde shook his head.
“whatever.” clyde mumbled. “you’re st— fuck.” he let that part slip out too loud. kenny had bucked his hips up faster and deeper. it took clyde by surprise. “kennny!” kenny snickered a little.
“sorry.” he just continued bouncing him up and down, not even letting him respond. clyde involuntarily tightened around him, sputtering whines and sobs. his mind blanked. his thrusts we’re getting sloppier as his chest started to get tight, his own legs shaking. he was close.
kenny wrapped a hand around clyde’s half limp dick, stroking the underside with his thumb. clyde’s body recoiled and he shook, completely overstimulated. he just whimpered louder into his neck.
“you feel so good,” kenny groaned. he tilted his hips up again, grinding into clyde relentlessly. “so good for me, such a good boy. fuck,” he panted next to clyde’s ear. with a drawn out groan, he buried his face into clyde’s hair and came. clyde shuddered, mouth going slack. clyde fucking came dry, dick twitching and drooping to rest in the puddle of his own cum on kenny’s stomach.
kenny tipped his head back, breathing hard and digging his nails into clyde’s skin. clyde body became flaccid, clinging loosely to kenny. he was successfully and totally fucked out. he giggled a little dazedly, feeling loopy and really, really weirdly warm. kenny sighed, patting him on the ass absentmindedly.
he began to lean back, oddly, it felt like the ground was slipping from under them.
wait. shit.
clyde yelped as the chair fell back. the crash that it elicited was obscenely loud. and it hurt. clyde heard a door from down the hall open.
“clyde?” footsteps approached quickly. kenny’s eyes went a little wide and he shook his leg from out the chair. “clyde, are you okay?” his dad knocked on the door.
tweek shouldn’t have agreed to come to this damn thing.
he shouldn’t have said yes to craig, when stood in tweek’s doorway, with his stupid, incredibly handsome grin, nervously popping the question in regards to attending clyde’s seventeenth birthday party. they do a little gathering together, just their friend group, a few days before or after his actual birthday every single year. so usually, the big, over the top party wasn’t ever mandatory to attend, or whatever. but he at least tried to show up every year. and craig, not being too fond of parties himself, wouldn’t go unless tweek did.
but anyway, craig ; fresh out the shower. fucking- unfairly shirtless. like, come on. this had to be on purpose. the water droplets hitting against his decently toned chest. he wasn’t like- ripped. he still had the most endearing ( barely there. but it counts. ) softness to his tummy that made tweek go insane most of the time. and also, with his size too big sweatpants. the coarse hair under his belly button trailing down and tweek so desperately wished he could see exactly where. it was tantalizing. they were low enough to see the band of his boxers, just where the hair trailed down under. fuck, was he drooling?
he came in going on a little ramble, his usual about how there’s an event. and if he wanted to go or not. and that he didn’t have to if he didn’t want to. tweek, in this case, dubious he wasn’t just in the middle of having a really, really nice dream, nodded dumbly. to be fair, he never even technically said yes. he just mumbled an ‘uh huh.’
and then craig had laughed. he snorted a little. and replied with, “you sure?”
then tweek nodded again, snapping his vision to focus from zoning out blissfully. “yep. uhm,” he stammered for words, padding his fingers over the empty space in bed next to him. “oh my god, craig. fuck me.” and then craig laughed a little more, mumbling something about tweek being so forward, and asking where his manners were, walking forward and shutting the door behind him.
so, it took him a little by surprise that yes, indeed he did agree to showing up. earlier that day, craig asked if an outfit looked good on him. tweek told him yes. and then craig asked if he was going to start getting ready with him. tweek looked at him confused. and then craig reminded him. and then tweek had to pretend like everything was just fine. because he couldn’t just back out now? and have to break that news? that’s WAY too much pressure!
as are all of clyde’s parties, they’re held at tolkien’s house. when craig pulled up, more so on the side of the fucking road because there were no spaces on the actual property, tweek’s stomach already felt like it was swimming. he gagged out loud, on accident. and craig gave him a look of concern. but tweek giggled it off. craig had to help him stand outside the car, his knees got physically weak. they hadn’t even gone in yet and he was already terrified to the absolute fucking core. why was he born absolutely and perpetually fucked?
craig held his hand on the way in. it was dark inside, save for the eye straining leds going. tweek felt queasy again. there were people drinking. and smoking. and there was brain damagingly loud music playing but people weren’t necessarily dancing, or, not well. dear lord it was only like, seven o’clock, and people were already fucked up. he could really go for anything right now. the only reason he wasn’t running off screaming was because of the grounding of craig’s hand.
“babe.” craig’s voice flowed through tweek’s brain and melted out his ears. he dazedly looked over to him, furrowing his eyebrows and nodding stiffly. “babe, are you okay?”
“fine.” tweek spat out. craig gave him a look, his ‘you’re bullshitting me’ kind of face. tweek frowned at it.
“you sure? you’re like, squeezing my hand, tweek.” tweek let go but he really wished he didn’t. because now he wanted to scream and run away. but he resisted. he felt so small. everyone made him feel so, so small. he had that cold rush of i want to get out of here coarse through his body from his forehead to his ankles and he grasps the hem of his sweater to comfort his shaking fingers. he needed something.
“do you have anything?” tweek mumbled, craig padded his pockets for a second before shaking his head. “fuck.” he groaned in defeat, burying his face into his palms and furiously rubbing his eyes. he could go talk to someone for some weed. kenny’s kinda the school renowned plug. he had cash on him. did he? his pockets felt heavy. his body felt heavy. his feet felt heavy. his brain felt heavy. hell, clyde probably has some. he’s literally dating him. isn’t he on a fucking weed farm? where’s tolkien? where is stan? his dad does weed, too. god that man is insane. he’s petrified of randy marsh. he’s petrified of stan marsh. kenny probably had stronger shit too. he gave him laced edibles at a party once in a situation just like this. not on purpose? it wasn’t on purpose. kenny wouldn’t do that. kenny once gave him actual crack for fucking free. it was craig’s birthday. craig did a line right off his thigh. that was hot. god his boyfriend is hot. he wishes he was in craig’s star covered soft glowing bedroom getting sucked off. shit, now he’s horny. he can’t be anxious and horny. that’s horrible? all of his body is worked up and wanting different things all over at the same time. he needs to stop thinking with his dick. he’s been doing that a lot recently. his dad actually wholeheartedly called him a whore. what the fuck his his issue? can his dick like— fuck off? that’s how he ended up here in the first place. god damn it.
“hey dudes!” he opened his eyes again. and from tweek’s peripherals he could see clyde. tolkien is shoving along past him and jimmy is just sort of, there. he’s snorting at something tolkien is saying. tweek doesn’t know. craig punches clyde’s arm as soon as he’s close enough. he didn’t know when, or how, but he was at the snack tables.
“happy birthday, asshole.” clyde stuck his tongue back out at him in response, but then he gave a goofy laugh. tweek felt a hand on his back and a head nudging his shoulder.
“tweek, you good?” tolkien slapped his back a bit. tweek recoiled and forced a nod. his back stung. not painfully, just because of the presence. of touch.
“t-t-trouble in p-paradise?” he snickered a bit after. tolkien did too, but he did an eye roll. tweek just groaned again.
“nerves.” jimmy gave a sympathetic nod into his shoulder. “get me drunk, man. don’t tell craig.” tolkien pat his back again.
“gotcha.” and then he was grabbed by the wrist and scooted across the floor on his feet. tolkien brought him to the makeshift bar. “what do you want?”
“something strong. no mix ins. just give it to me.” tweek felt awfully pathetic. he felt so small again. so vulnerable. he wanted his hand held. he felt like a little kid. why was everyone looking at him like that? was there anyone looking? no one else seemed uncomfortable around each other, why were they making a big deal out of him? were they? and was there a problem with how he was acting, anyway? he looked fine. didn’t he look fine? he didn’t know. fuck if he knew. all he knew was he felt dumb and pathetic and exposed and oh god if he died, completely just dropped dead, right here right now, he felt like he absolutely could, he would be sooo happy. fuck. craig is infiltrating his thoughts again.
tolkien slid him something. he didn’t acknowledge exactly what. and tweek pounded it instantly. his eyelashes tickled the rim of the red solo cup and he saw the leftover reminants of droplets on the inside. he grimaced at the burn in his chest. it made his gut churn even more than it was already. he felt a little lightheaded.
“dude, slow down.” tolkien frowned, snatching the now empty cup back up. tweek muttered something. “are you sure you’re okay?”
“i will be.” tweek scowled to himself more. he gestured for it back, but tolkien kept it in hand and filled it back up.
“you’re t-too eager, dude.” jimmy glided his hand down his shoulder. “calm down. do you w-wa- wan— need to step outside?”
“no.” it was quick and firm. a reflex. he couldn’t even say no without being irritated. why was he getting irritated? he shrugged jimmys hand off. tolkien set another drink down for him. he finally looked inside. it was just, clear. still had no clue what it was. “sorry.”
“not your fault.” tolkien said in a quiet tone. in agreement, jimmy sighed and nodded, returning his hand and giving his shoulder a comforting squeeze. when he downed the next drink, he was already feeling dizzy. his head spun, all the lights and noise and music and movements and doings all faded together into mush inside his brain. he was saying things he couldn’t make out himself. he stumbled a bit, legs getting weak beneath him to bear his weight. he felt so heavy. so so heavy.
the thundering against his skull came from every single particular noise and he clutched his ringing ears. he wanted to cry. everything was getting worse. he wanted it to get better. but it wasn’t. he wanted it to go away. but it wouldn’t. he froze, he remembers his body stilling. he blinked once, hard, and sluggish and unjustifiably slow. his eyes went dry behind his drooping eyelids. he didn’t know if he started crying. but his face contorted and squeezed up all firm and the back of his throat stung like he was. he clung to himself for security. he needed to feel something physically.
he doesn’t remember how, or when, but when his consciousness regained, he was still surrounded by loud. but it was less amplified. muffled, almost. his vision was bleary. there was a shaking sensation beneath his torso. hands were on him, but not in a bad way. in an indescribably, something he’s been starving for, good way. one hand was occupied in his hair, carding their fingers through his unruly locks. and another was steadied against his back. his chest was bare. he was cold. and now, he was sure of it now, that he was crying.
a hand came to wipe his tears. spilling down his cheeks and dribbling to his chin. he felt like he was floating. he felt like he was pathetic. a gentle fabric brushed his bare spine. he maneuvered himself over to lay on his back. the hand stayed on his face, rubbing the skin underneath his drooping eyes. he closed his eyes in content. he felt safe. something nudged against his lips, something plastic feeling. he parted them. liquid started running through his mouth. it remained dry, though.
“tweek, you need to sit up.” he tried, but he couldn’t. too heavy, too heavy. “you’ll choke. do you need help?” tweek lolled his head tiredly against the hand. he mumbled something but he didn’t know what exactly he said. his tongue felt so dry. so heavy. heavy.
when his vision came into focus. he realized who was speaking to him. it was just tolkien. his head was nestled into his lap, and his legs were draped across jimmy’s. they looked so worried.
“i’m sorry.” he croaked. he sounded so dry, his voice so small and light despite his body feeling so. heavy. tolkien shushed him, helping him sit up so he could drink the rest of the water. his brain swarmed with confusion, he didn’t know why he was with them. he didn’t know what happened. he doesn’t know what happened to his shirt. he doesn’t know why he feels so icky.
“c-craig’s looking for you.” jimmy said. a wave of guilt crashed over him and it made him feel empty. he felt so shitty. he is so shitty. this unintentionally made him cry again. he wanted craig. he wanted to be curled into his lap. he wanted his hair being played with. he wanted stars being traced into his back while craig whispered about them.
“i-it’s okay man,” tolkien said, and he stammered a bit. tweek’s brain wasn’t making any sense. it was all jumbled and wrong. he had to bite back nausea. he just wanted to be held. someone hold him. the room was swaying.
“i’m sorry, i’m sorry,” he repeatedly murmured. he babbled more incoherent, deluded words. he was absolutely nonsensical. someone hold him. his brain shouted ; please, someone hold me. he was sat up, losing the support of both their legs. tolkien left the water bottle squeezed between tweek’s legs and pat his shoulder.
“we’ll be back, okay?” he nodded absentmindedly. he gazed out in front of him and all he saw was stars. he misses craig. when he sees him, tweek is gonna hold him. he wants to hold him so bad. he shimmied up a bit, and his mind fuzzed out again.
he was pressed against cold, ceramic tiles. pressed against his flushed cheeks, it did feel good. but not comforting. he felt exposed to no one to see, but he felt vulnerable. his arms looped around the base of the toilet, he spent— god knows how long, just the hanging his head into the bowl and waiting to relive his aching insides. but all that came up was hot saliva, just dribbling from his mouth. icky. he found that crying wasn’t even able to be done anymore. for once in his life, he wished he could puke.
eventually, he gave up. he curled in on himself on the floor and laid there. this isn’t the first time he’s been crying on a bathroom floor. it happens a lot more than you would think. he’d spend hours in his own house just locked into the bathroom, heaving and sobbing. aching and useless. and no one would come in. or acknowledge him. or when he was lucky, his mom would come in and scoop him up into her lap and rub his head and kiss his tender scalp. shush his crying and tell him everything would be just fine. his mother would be doting. his mother could be good. and then she would ignore him for weeks. she could be good for a day and then leave him dry, retracted and empty with nothing. he wants his mom. so he grabbed his phone.
he found her contact. she would answer, right? she had to. it rang for a little. he shut his phone off and let it ring against his ear, closing his eyes. his lips trembled.
“hello?” her voice rang through, soft and like a hum. it felt like a kiss on the cheek.
“mom.” he choked out, dry and desperate. there was silence on the other end, the hum of the news playing in the back. she made a hum in response. disinterested, clearly. “please… i- please come get me…i can’t, i can’t,” he was tired of sounding small. of feeling small. but he did. and he wish he was, just being held in his mother’s lap. telling himself stories to go to sleep when his parents stopped remembering to tuck him in. slathering peanut butter on the ends of bread for himself. getting ran baths, getting his hair washed. she would forget halfway through that he was in there. or she would just slump against the cold porcelain, and be out cold. and he never could understand why. he can’t fathom why he wants his mom so bad.
“mama,” it was barely words. it was a little shivering ghost of a breath, a little pathetic plea, a little boy yearning for his mom.
“what’s the matter, tweek?” she murmured into the phone. he could picture it. it was squeezed between her shoulder and the crook of her neck. her eyes glazed and spaced out, reflected by the tv. red lipstick smudged in a trail down her chin. her voice was quiet, it was distant and distracted.
“please pick me up.” his eyes were too dry to produce anymore tears. he just dry sobbed and whimpered.
“i can’t honey, just stick it out, okay? your father and i are very busy, you know?” she was mumbling. or she was slurring. she wasn’t busy. ( she was high. ) he spurred out into a mantra of weakly mumbling ‘mama’ over and over until his throat went hoarse. she hung up eventually without responding. fucking useless. he’s legitimately fucking useless. ( his mother is. his father is. they all are. he remembers not being able to go on a class trip in fifth grade because he slipped the paper to his mom. she said she’d keep it safe. but oh, she didn’t. )
the bathroom was slick with moisture, collecting around the walls and falling to his body in terrible feelings of sweat. he wished he could melt, he felt he could. into the cold tiles. he wondered the amount of people who’d walked over where he lay tonight. his presence is useless among all the others who’d been there before. just another collection of dna and emotions. it smelt like lemongrass hand cream and sage and spearmint hand soap. it smelt like his alcohol induced breath. it smelt of ammonia, overly aware of it, too much of it. like a hospital. hospitals smelt weird. hospitals smelled of cold stale air and human bodies. they smelled of getting put on a 5150 since he was small because he was made to feel like he was wrong, deluded, and broken. it smelled of resting in a rickety bed with a plasticy mattress with equally textured paper thin sheets next to some kid who just shattered your wrist and bloodily bruised your face and knees. that kid he knows. that kid is craig. the bruises he’s made on his body faded and he is sure craig has kissed the spots unknowingly hundred of times. and oh so badly, he wants craig. ( craig’s mom is good, she loves him. tweek wants to be held by laura tucker so. fucking. badly. )
he wishes craig were here to just love him. kiss it better. fuck it better.
he didn’t care. he just wanted him to make it better. he wanted him to encase him underneath his constellation dotted blanket and kiss his head and tell him, it was going to be okay. he wanted him to hold him under his blankets and sheets and thrust him into the mattress. he didn’t care, he didn’t care. ( he told himself to not begin to think about sucking on his neck. the two moles on his back. don’t think about making out with him and melting to his body like molding plastic. straddling his sides and taking in his mouth, craig digging his calloused fingers into his hips. his hands on tweek's thighs as he thrusts into him. tweek’s mouth wrapped around him as he holds onto his hair and tells him he’s so good. so perfect. just going down on him. yeah, that would be good. that would work. he should think of anything else. think of how gross and dna covered this floor is. ) cuddling worked. sex worked. anything worked. it wasn’t fair. he felt depraved. he wanted to feel needed.
tweek turned so he could be curled up on his side against the sink, his nose buried in a smear of lukewarm moisture from the floor. his chest heaved as he hyperventilated. he had to get out. ( he can remember getting scared shitless by his parents, banging his head and crying, saying he wanted out. ) he rolls onto his stomach, he tries his hardest to calm himself down. but everything feels so weird.
he closes his eyes and blinks and wipes the back of his hands across his face and looks at them. they’re gross. they feel wet. it’s just tears. they’re nothing. tears won’t kill anyone. his own blonde disheveled hair is stuck to the bottom of his face in damp clumps. he wishes he had something better than what he has. he wishes he had something normal. he wishes he were getting his hand held again. he wished he wasn’t squeezing so hard that he had to let go.
why does he feel so hot? why does it smell so bad? ( fucking disgusting. gross. just have to keep thinking about it. shut up. )
his heart ached and his brain felt too cloudy for rational thought. so he cried hopelessly into the floor. letting his head hang as he shut his eyes again. the tiles were comforting all in all. he felt at home. he felt at his home clutching for his senses on his own linoleum tiled bathroom floor. with nobody there. this was welcome, this was familiar. toilet, mirror, hand soap, rug ( so soft. ), bathroom floor. and his ankles bound by his socks, and his legs sticking to his loose jeans, his stomach, his hands, his head. he is here, this is real, he is safe.
the door clicked, and he didn’t look up. his crumpled figure was illuminated by the multicolored leds from the outside. he didn’t look up. there was clicking across the tiles, the cold cold tiles, and hushed mumbles. someone knealt by him and brushed his hair back from his sticky forehead. and then he looked up, through his bleary eyes. it was bebe fucking stevens. and someone with her, he didn’t know yet. he made a noise that could only be compared to that of what would come out if you kicked an animal. he sounded as if he was being put out of his misery. god, he is dramatic.
“tweek, oh,” she murmured, he was reading her glossed lips. she pulled up to a sit, fanning her hand in his face. he just groaned, clutching to her sleeve. and she looked worried. so sweet “hey, hey, hey. don’t cry. come here.” he wasn’t sure he even could cry anymore. it hurt to blink, his eyes felt strained. she kept whispering things to him that made no sense at all. he wanted to ask her to speak louder. he hated it when people did that, when people asked him that, though. but he was having enough trouble concentrating. “you’re okay, it’s okay. i’ve got you.” it was soft, a little cooing tone that he could only compare to his mother’s.
“no, no, i’m fine, it’s okay,” he protested confused. she shushed him a little, and hummed. she pulled his shaking stupid pathetic body into her arms and held him tight. he felt the world crash over him again and again and the final time it finally felt okay.
“it’s okay. everybody has shitty nights tweek, you’re allowed to not be okay. okay?” she smoothed her neatly manicured hand through his hair, pressing her cheek against his. usually, this would be too close for him. but right now, it was helping. she smelled nice, like fruity and floral and like a good, soap store. he kept smelling soap. she ran her long nails and soft fingers over his neck. rubbing soothing circles and feeling all his muscles loosen up. and the feeling came back to his feet. and his hands. and his body. oh, he had his body. “wendy, can you hand me the wipes from my bag?” that’s who she’s with. there was some light, crisp crinkling. plastic, plastic.
“here.” wendy’s voice was softer. he’s never heard it as such. she’s normally loud. she sounds nice, too. this was all nice. a cold sensation pressed to his cheek, and he was moved from in bebe’s arms to having his head laid into her lap. she wiped down his warm, tear streaked face. at first he wanted to shiver, but he didn’t. he just relaxed into her touch. into her voice. he hadn’t realized how long they sat like that. they could’ve been anywhere, anywhere at all. she rubbed some lotion onto his battered skin. lemongrass.
“have you eaten tonight? when’s the last time you ate?” bebe asked, digging through her bag again. she had a bottle of water, too. tweek gratefully accepted it into his trembling palms. he tapped the cold plastic, it felt nice. it made a strange pittering noise. he was barely coordinated enough to unscrew the bottle cap, he flicked it off onto the floor and guzzled down the water. it invaded his senses, and it was feeling good. good, so good. his throat was raw and it absorbed. he felt the bottle again. smooth, rigid, good. he racked his brain, and the only fizzled thought in there was, ‘i don’t know’. he repeated it out loud, over and over. he was gently hushed again. bebe told him to finish all the water.
there was more apparent rustling coming from bebe’s purse. wendy furrowed her eyebrows until she clutched something. more plasticy crinkling. good sounds, frequent sounds. a smooshed, discarded at the bottom of her purse- granola bar was gently placed on the floor beside him. he glanced at it wearily, his stomach reeling. he still hadn’t thrown up.
“can’t eat.” he murmured.
“keep it close.” he nodded lazily, skull heavy. his neck hurt. the wipe was dry by now. bebe had started to detangle his hair. his scalp was undeniably scarred and stupidly sensitive from years of hair pulling, but this didn’t hurt.
“we need to have you at a sleepover, you know?” bebe’s nails were pointy, but they felt nice, gently scratching through his hair. wendy rubbed his arm, feeling his muscles tremble beneath her hands.
“yeah sometime this weekend.” wendy helped fix his untied shoelaces. his shoes tightened around his ankles. she was so gentle. “we can get your favorites, text me what you like, okay?” another half hearted nod. bebe rubbed his forehead as wendy rubbed his side. he felt as though he was peaceful enough to just sleep finally. he murmured some things unintelligible to him, but it gained a reaction from them. wendy squeezed his hand.
eventually, he felt a little more.. there. he downed the water bottle and then additionally, one more. a sudden wave of nausea crashed over him, and he hunched back over the toilet. he expelled the alcohol from his body, and all the water, and essentially- his guts. he hated how his abdomen clenched and how he welled up, hated how he shook and his ribs jutted out when his stomach caved back in. he took several deep breaths, gagging, shaking. it passed eventually, leaving him a small hollow ache in his chest. more coughing. snot. he vomited again, so much. until it was transparent bile.
all this time, his hair was held back by wendy. bebe kept wiping his face, the tears. the snot. the sweat. suffering being eased so gently. he closed his eyes and tried to picture himself somewhere else. somewhere where no one knew him or ever knew him. somewhere where he was just not there.
bebe finally found a hair tie. she pulled the small amount of locks and tied it back. he wanted to say thank you. if he wasn’t at such a vulnerable, self loathing, can’t bring himself to speak place right now, he would probably have done it. he was sat upright against the wall, carrying his aching head in his hands. he needs some pain meds.
“you okay now?” wendy asked, she put a hand on his knee. he nodded. and then the thank you that followed was barely distinguishable. she squeezed him. a way to say, no problem, he assumed.
“you’re so sweet, tweek. you’ve always been nice. nicer than most the boys in our grade,” bebe just rambled while she played at his nails, playing with his fingers. “you’re the type of boy i would kiss on his face, but because you’re kind, but i won’t.” tweek didn’t know what any of that shit meant. bebe has definitely drunkenly smothered his face in sparkly, sticky lip gloss and red lipstick. ( red. like his mother’s) and craig would have to pull her off. when she had no one, she would crawl to him and curl into him. bebe will whisper all the weird shit that only is allowed to pass through someone’s own mind.
she was like a snow angel, he thinks. he doesn’t know what that means. she made him feel uncomfortable, she is overbearing. but she is gentle. if her hands weren’t soft, they would be claws.
he just mumbled and smiled a bit. he felt dull. a tingling. nothing excruciating, though, not like before. just, an itch.
he’d never really liked alcohol before. the only part of him which did like it was a tiny minuscule part of him inside him, something dark and hungry. he tended to fall to addictions easy. so he would stay weary. he was so quiet for a few minutes. he was acting good. he found comfort in his knees while the girls small talked about shit that didn’t matter to him. he thinks there’s a reserved spot in heaven for girls like bebe stevens. adorned in lacey v necks, short denim skirts and bedazzled shoes. dousing herself in perfume, jingling about silver jewelry. she was actually more passive aggressive than nice. but she didn’t mind wiping down teary eyed boys faces at her ex boyfriend’s birthday.
bebe produced a red lighter. it had a heart on it, crafted out of tiny gems. he thought of how she had to place every single one of those individually. she lit up a cigarette and took a drag, it was passed to wendy afterwards. tweek hates the smell of cigarettes. the smoke getting trapped inside your lungs. the taste stuck in his mouth and in his nose. it gave memories. he remembers sitting on his dad’s knee, getting it blown in his face. he remembers shotgunning one with craig out on his porch after sex. it made his skin crawl. pleasantly and disturbed. he watched bebe and wendy kiss, smoke passing between their lips. their cherry colored lips melted against each other. and then they giggled. in his mind, he was swimming. he was swimming somewhere that wasn’t here. maybe, even drowning in the moonlight. swallowed into the cold floor. calmly under water, he could breathe easily. when he opened his eyes again, it was still dark.
he coughed once, and bebe eyed him once more. she offered him one.
“no thanks.” tweek shook his head. he felt awkward.
“so polite,” she tittered. she burned it out against the floor, swirling it between his fingertips until there was a mark on the tiles. another collection of human dna. his time there on the floor didn’t matter. he wasn’t worthy enough to fuck up anything. bebe pushed her glare aside and let him watch. she looked through the window. her eyes glassy enough to reflect. she reminded him of a doll made of porcelain. she kissed wendy’s fingertips. wendy told her to knock it off, but it was between more and more giggles.
when the door opened again, tweek actually looked this time. he felt relief in all his senses. all the collected condensation from the walls, the floor, the roof. all the overwhelming smells. the good, and the bad. and the smoke. it was free.
“babe.” craig sounded so relieved. it sounded like a sigh. he shuffled over, and outstretched his arms. somewhere, tweek got the strength to stand. he stood and let himself be held. their bodies melded against each other and tweek felt suffocated, but warm. for the first time that night, his eyes didn’t hurt when he kept them open. craig kissed his jawline, and then his cheek, this his nose and forehead. he halfheartedly thanked wendy and bebe. bebe have one last look before they stepped outside.
they were both silent now. craig was maneuvering them through a back exit. because, god forbid they’d have to go through that amount of people again. tweek knows this house well. he remembers playing hide and seek here when they were little. clyde was awful at seeking, he would cry within the first ten minutes. he and craig would hide together, huddle up and hold hands. craig had stubby little fingers when they were young, tweek once said he had guinea pig holding hands, and craig laughed. and they would kiss in the hushed silence of not getting found. they both smelled like warm vanilla candles linda black liked to burn. and grass. and each other.
the chilly air hit tweeks body instantaneously, and it felt refreshing. being outside felt more like living that being stuffed up inside. in between people’s laps. because, apparently, that was common for him tonight. his feet ached. his ankles itched from his socks and stupid, stupid shoes. craig held his hand.
“are you okay?”
“yeah.” tweek didn’t hesitate. in all honesty, he felt okay. what was there to complain of anymore? he didn’t need anything, he just wanted. wanted to be home. wanted to be in bed with craig, having his back held and his fingers kissed. “let’s go back to yours.” so craig brushed his knuckles with his thumb and trudged him along. they whispered to each other things that made the other giggle. down the sidewalk, beneath the moon, craig kissed him and stroked the side of his face with his fingertips. his lips were so familiar, and grounding, he missed him.
“we need to get going. it’s gonna rain.” craig whispered against his neck. and tweek nodded. a wave of coolness cascaded over his body, his skin.
“i know.” but they didn’t move immediately. craig held his arms around his waist and nestled his head into the crook of his neck. tweek liked the smell of the petrichor coming from the earth when it was going to rain, it was fresh. they instead actually sat on the curb of the sidewalk, it was bumpy beneath them. it smelled crisp. back in town, the fertilizer smell from the farms invaded on cool winter mornings when the sky is clear and the air is piercing. but it wasn’t a cool winter morning. it was not there.
twinkling lights came across the sullen dark sky. amongst the clouds coming in, there was stars. stars really were brighter outside of town away from smog and city lights.
they bumped shoulders, and he held craig in his arms. and they didn’t really speak, or do much of anything. just sat. watched the night pass by them. noticed people walking past, stumbling from intoxication, waiting for their rides home. in this moment, he feels real. in reality, they’re all still young. they’re all still kids waiting for their parents to come get them. the same kids swinging their bandaid adorned legs off a bench and waiting to get picked up after school. needing to grasp on and waiting for the night to be forgotten. still needing someone’s hand to hold. because sometimes, you need it. sometimes you wish to be back riding you bicycle down the twisted streets and bumped asphalt to ring your bells and crash to your knees to have your mom kiss it better. and sometimes you wish you could get a note in your lunchbox. wether you had ever got to experience that in time or not, you may find yourself longing.
because all the time, time slips. away from your hands and swept beneath your once mismatched socks and untied shoe laces on your feet. and you don’t realize until it is gone. and that longing you keep, the fear of growing old, you’re not the only one. and when thinking of this, he felt envy, somewhat, but it goes away. he wasn’t sure how many times he’d seen himself out on the street, crying and cursing under his breath. he didn’t wish his mom had picked him up anymore. ( yet he still yearned for her care. ) for now, he just needed to forget about everything. the squeals of people crossing them by, and the laughter, and the movement. humanity, reality. oh, this felt nice.
and then it started to drizzle. one second later, rain splashed against them. loud. wet. swift. splatters of rain adorned craig’s face and he began to laugh, sticking his tongue out towards the sky. he looked like a dork, it was so incredibly endearing. tweek held out his hand and looked towards the sky. he cupped his hands together and let the drops fall. watching them make their way down his bone bare fingers, twinkling as they touched the soaked pavement. his hands slightly shivering from the cold, he closed his eyes and he breathed in the rain-soaked air. craig kissed his cheek. tweek kissed his lips.
he twisted his hand into craig’s collar and held him firm. craig’s hair was wet. tweek’s hair was wet. they are absorbing the rain, the earth. craig pulled him closer, deepening their kiss. he ended with his back on the concrete, and tweek over him. each contact with each other’s lips were warm. craig’s cold hands traced his cheeks and then found their way to caress his navel, and tweek did not flinch. if anything, he leaned into him even more. the rain was falling harder.
it wasn’t until they were out of breath, cold puffs exhaling into the sky, and bodies shivering and soaked, that they pulled apart. the way craig looked into his eyes struck him down. tweek’s jeans stuck to his legs, and his socks sloshed inside his shoes with each step. craig unlocked his car and they climbed into the backseat. they sat there for a minute in silence, listening to the rumbles of cars passing by and the alluring drip drop sound of rain hitting the metal roof of the car. every noise blended perfectly together. it felt surreal. and right.
and then they began kissing again. soft and tender, lips ghosting each other in gentle pecks. his heart was rattling in his ribs. the movements were so delicate. and in this moment, craig forgot how to breathe. tweek’s trembling fingers locked into craig’s dripping hair. he tugged gently, for solace. craig groaned into mouth and ran through the back of his throat. he swallowed it and it made him shiver. tweek tentatively ran his tongue across craig’s bottom lip.
craig’s hands felt the way he trembled and shivered beneath him. he loved the way he became pliable, his small frame molding to his and just, soaking him in.
they ended with foreheads resting against each other. their noses pressed together and it elicited a breathless laugh from craig. tweek sat in his lap, the cold fabric of his sleeves stuck to his arms. tweek kissed the corner of his mouth.
“i’m so sorry.” tweek looked at him with furrowed brows.
“for?” his voice was quiet. craig shook his head.
“i should’ve— i didn’t want to come anyway. this didn’t have to happen.” tweek kissed his cheek. he stroked the nape of his neck. craig’s hairs stood up.
“it’s not your fault.” he said firmly. “do not get all- self…blamey. do not get all upset. just take me home.”
“okay,” craig kissed his forehead. “okay. i can do that.”
craig could not possibly explain to anybody how he got into this situation. if you had told him this is what he would’ve been doing three hours ago, he wouldn’t have believed you.
it had started with tweek coming over for the afternoon, like he did on most days. and that turning into a sleepover,…like most days. he stayed the night a lot, if anything, it is now expected that he does. craig’s mother had opted to just regularly grocery shop and cook for an extra person a few years ago. she really is awfully fond of him in general. every single day without fail, she will pinch his cheeks and grab his face to begin planting kisses all over while she murmurs to him. in the end, he’s left with lipstick smudges and a shy smile plastered on his face. he’s too polite to ever wipe them away in front of her. and also, somewhere along the lines, craig began keeping all of tweek’s stuff inside a drawer in his bedroom.
craig decided a long time ago that he didn’t really mind. he supposed tweek wasn’t so bad. when they were little, craig thought he was a little weird— and not to say that he totally isn’t. but, behind all of that, he’s pretty cool. he’s a good listener, a bit of a people pleaser, for sure. he’s funny, he’s really smart, too. craig most definitely would’ve been failing without him. he’s cooler than clyde by a lot, he was the tiniest bit actually glad that tweek was the replacement for him when it came to sleepovers. he’s cooler than a lot of his friends. he’s way cooler than a lot of other boys, really.
but totally not in a gay way. that was completely out of the question. he and tweek just keep saying they are, but they’re not really like that. craig definitely has never wanted him to actually be his boyfriend, he isn’t really gay. no way in hell.
well, anyway.
tweek’s laying next to him. their fingers are interlaced, craig knows that tweek likes this. likes the way craig stroked the back of his hand with his thumb. he said once it helped him sleep, and craig liked that. craig’s got his back to him, and he’s a bit concerned. he wasn’t making any noise. craig was dubious about if he was even breathing. he wasn’t too sure of how tweek sleeped, anyway, because usually he was out before him. but tonight, he was a little restless. stuck pondering.
“tweek?” craig whispered behind his shoulder. he turned his head and grunted as he flipped his body over. tweek’s eyes were drooping, and they fluttered closed. he vigorously squeezed them shut and mumbled something low and sleepily, craig wasn’t too sure what he said. he had his cheek smooshed into his arm. so when he lifted up, there was a faint little line there. craig blinked at him. “sorry, were you asleep?”
tweek rubbed his eyes, huffing when he opened them to give craig a hard stare. craig dumbly blinked again. he couldn’t help but let out a little giggle. eventually, tweek joined him. tweek inched a tad closer, their shoulders bumped. craig pulled the comforter over their heads, scooting down further so he could be completely covered. tweek made a little grunt in protest, but then he hummed, padding his fingers on the bed to find his phone. he turned on his flashlight.
on the top side of the comforter, it was a deep navy blue that went well with most of the color scheme in his room. for his eleventh birthday, it mysteriously isappeared from his bedroom. when it was given back, his grandma had embroidered constellations all over the bottom.
on some nights, they’d go under it and craig would name new ones every night until tweek fell asleep. other times, they’d tell secrets. or just talk aimlessly, didn’t matter.
craig looked over at tweek, rolled onto his side. he was giving craig an expectant look. craig looks confused, and tweek gave a small smile.
“what?” tweek raised an eyebrow playfully at him, and craig nervously chuckled a little. craig propped himself onto his elbow, pressing his weight into his wrist. for some reason, his chest felt tight. his mind blanked momentarily, completely forgetting what he was getting. his previous thought process completely drained, what words was he looking for? had he and…mouth to…fuck.
“like- cpr.” no, god damn it. that isn’t it. and now tweek’s staring at him a little funny. “i meant- not the resuscitation part but like, the mouth to mouth. you know?” in attempts fo make it better, those were still not the correct words. and, shit, he was stammering. he didn’t know where this nervousness was coming from. or why he was even thinking aloud. or why he was thinking of this in the first place. he had this down in his mind and this sounded perfect up in there but they weren’t articulating from his mouth. he wishes he could go back a full minute and shut up and speak about stars instead.
“i’m…not following.” tweek mumbled tiredly, intensifying his glare. craig rubbed his face and had to force himself to look away.
“okay,” he had to take a moment to breathe. “okay. kissing. we’ve kissed before, right?”
“on the cheek.” it took a second for him to respond. and if anything, it sounded more of a question. he gave a pause every time tweek spoke because he was anticipating for him to ramble about how craig was confusing him. but it didn’t come. but honestly, he wish it did, because the silence was awkward and making everything so much worse. he was mentally spiraling.
“i mean…shouldn’t we, like, properly?” craig finally looked back at tweek. craig wished the light were off. tweek just silently had his eyebrows furrowed, staring right at him. the direct eye contact was making it even worse. but then tweek smiled a little, a sort of warm, good softness coming to his eyes. something swarmed within craig’s insides. it fluttered from his stomach to rattling in his ribs to coming up his body and he thought he was gonna need to puke. but he didn’t. which in turn made him confused. he was sure he was staring at tweek a little dumbfounded.
“so,” tweek began. he was rubbing at craig’s bedsheets, feeling it between his fingers. “you’re asking to kiss me?” craig subconsciously spaced out, just staring stupidly at his face. he was waiting and waiting for tweek to flip out on him, ramble on about how that is— ‘way too much pressure’. or just, literally react in some way that is more than he’s showing. but tweek’s lips didn’t budge, not even a little. and oh, shit, he’s staring at his lips. don’t do that.
“yes.” his brain is failing him. backtrack. “no! i mean- like, people might start asking…questions?”
“and you suddenly…care?” tweek mocked the tone he used. he still had a smirk plastered on his face. craig was mentally dying. and the way his body was feeling practically feverish- you could say physically, too.
“no. no, no! it’s- i don’t want to kiss you! but we’re getting older and whatever and don’t you think that would raise questions? i’m just…” he was spluttering. tweek had wordlessly came out of the covers, sitting upright. before craig could do it himself, tweek peeled if off of him, tucking them back neatly and looking down over him. craig wished the lamp wasn’t on. “…it’s taking authenticity into consideration— tweek?” tweek carefully maneuvered himself over craig, directly able to meet his face. craig went stiff. and without meaning too, his voice came out small.
tweek tentatively brought his hand to caress craig’s cheek, and brushing a bit of his hair back. his smile softened. everything about this was, soft. when tweek’s hands weren’t shaking, they were gentle. if shit wasn’t already petrifying, tweek brought his face closer, shifting his body a little bit. he is full on straddling him against his bed. okay, maybe this looked a little gay. but it is not like that.
he’s seen tweek from this close before, sure, and everytime, his body felt weird. right now, he couldn’t move. he was just staring. tweek slid his thumb over his cheekbone, and he got goosebumps. he felt his body get a rush of warmth, blood rushing to his face. he was absolutely, unequivocally captivated, a dazed, starstruck expression in his eyes. tweek leaned closer. close enough to where craig could feel tweek’s hair tickling his forehead.
craig finally moved and relaxed his body. it felt, despite having tweek literally on top of him, somewhat safe. and comfortable. instinctively, he reached his hand to brush back some of tweek’s hair, too. this made tweek smile a little bit more, his teeth showing. craig let out a shaky breath.
“okay.” craig took a moment to register it, he blinked hard. he could literally feel his breath on his face. his eyes unfocused and he blankly looked at the freckles smattered across tweek’s cheeks and nose. when they were younger, he let craig take an invisible ink marker and connect them like constellations. tweek laid his head into his lap, hair sprawling out onto his pajama pants, and craig shone the light onto his cheeks. tweek was looking at him intently with curious eyes. craig remembers his body tensing up and his stomach coiling like how it was now.
“huh?” his voice was fucking trembling.
“i’ll kiss you.” tweek was suddenly whispering. and, oh, right. “for…authenticity, sure.” his tone of voice was laced with fondness. and, it seemed teasing, almost. craig didn’t really grasp why.
wait.
was this genuinely happening? holy shit. craig’s palms got sweaty and he self consciously, which was really strange for him, pulled it away. tweek caught his wrist with his other hand and tugged it back to his side.
“okay.” craig quickly nodded. he immediately noticed that he sounded way too eager. “if— if you want too, i guess. this is just-“ but tweek shushed his useless rambling. he kept his hand still on craig’s cheek, and dropped craig’s hand that was in his other. instead, he steadied it on his shoulder. craig’s heart pounded right into his ears as tweek leaned in. tweek had closed his eyes, his eyelashes casting shadows over his cheeks. craig studied his face.
tweek is, pretty. he thinks.
and that’s a terrifyingly, fully conscious thought.
he doesn’t really know what that entailed. he’s never explicitly thought of anything human as pretty. he thinks sunlight filtering through blinds is pretty. he thinks snow glistening in the coming of spring is pretty. he, apparently, in his swarming mind, thinks tweek is pretty.
the thought isn’t that welcome. the thought worsens his nerves. it doesn’t make him feel cliché butterflies. it feels like there’s a swarm of infuriated bees attacking his fucking insides. it makes him feel sweaty and fuzzy. it, somehow, makes him tingle with something good. tingle with some underlying awakening hunger.
tweek reminds him of a star. the way his stupid hair frames his stupid face. his skin is so pale it’s practically translucent. he might as well fucking be.
tweek reminds him of stupid cringe metaphors. that is scarier. tweek is so, pretty. craig can’t even come up with stupid metaphors anymore. he’s got a slender face, a bit mousey, bruised eye bags, pale green eyes, a slim button nose. but he is pretty.
and he wants tweek to kiss him. where the fuck is this all coming from?
tweek slightly tilted his head. craig widened his eyes and followed his direction without thinking. because, hell if he could properly. when he anticipated their lips to meet, they didn’t, their noses collided gently instead. tweek pulled back a little, eyes fluttering open. craig felt as though he was going to melt right into his mattress. and, actually, that sounded nice.
tweek stared at him. and then he let out a surprised laugh. he was smiling. all of his awkwardness has dissipated. if craig thinks about it, it never was really there for tweek. this all seemed so casual for him. it was so unlike what he was used to. he never had experienced tweek so confident. craig likes this. likes it a lot.
“sorry.” craig croaks out. tweek shook his head, he let his fingertips graze down to hold his chin firm.
“here, just stay still.” and craig did. he went completely rigid again pursed his lips into a thin line. tweek leaned in again, in a slightly divergent direction of craig’s face. he stroked his jawline with his pinky, and carefully pressed his lips to his. craig held his breath.
tweek’s lips, despite being a bit chapped from nibbling on them, were soft. craig sort of imagined them this way.
he wasn’t sure how to feel about acknowledging the realization that he has previously thought about what his lips would feel like.
craig didn’t really know what to expect kissing to feel like. in media, it looked like clashing together. sometimes it looked sloppy. but this… was nice. really, terrifying. but, nice. tweek tilted craig’s chin back a little bit, and pulled back enough to speak.
“relax, man.” he mumbled against his lips. it tickled a little bit. “you kind of have to move your lips, too.” now, tweek telling him to relax was pretty abnormal.
“…sorry.” craig repeated, practically inaudible.
“it’s okay. you seem…uncomfortable,” tweek looked him directly in his eyes. craig forgot how to breathe. “…are you uncomfortable?”
“no!” craig’s voice was exasperated. his reply was far too quick. tweek fucking smiled again. “no…just keep- keep kissing me.”
“okay.” tweek brought both arms to hold around craig’s neck. not tightly, almost like he was sort of cradling his head. he shifted his body further onto his chest. “do something with your hands dude. you’re fucking stiff as a board. it’s- ngh- making me nervous.”
really fucking seems like it. is what craig wanted to snap back. but he didn’t. every little ounce of smugness he had garnered up before died in his throat. craig inarticulately nodded, and shakily grabbed for tweek’s waist. tweek seemed content with that, because he immediately was back to kissing him.
craig lets his body ease up, finally. his lips soften against tweek’s and he accidentally let a shaky breath out through his nose. he stops gripping onto him so hard, and subconsciously just rubs his fingers up and down his sides. he strokes him gently, similarly to how he does to his hand to put him to sleep.
tweek pulled away, testing with a few minuscule pecks. once, tweek pulled away and looked down into craig’s eyes a little expectantly. craig hesitated, breath catching in his throat, and it was his turn to lean in now. he haphazardly missed his mouth, instead pecking the corner of it on accident.
in eagerness— or, to save craig any more embarrassment, he wasn’t sure which one— he caught his lips again. tweek experimentally, and very carefully, swiped his tongue over craig’s bottom lip. it caught him a little off gaurd. tweek’s lips parted a bit against his. oh.
tweek gently let go of his hold around his neck and instead grabbed his face again, cupping his cheek’s. craig’s hands sort of longed to touch under his shirt. he just wanted to feel him. surges of so much was just happening all at once and all of it came back with a the same screaming feeling of want.
tweek’s thumb gently pried open craig’s lips to be parted just enough, and craig somewhat got the hint. he unsteadily moved his tongue into tweek’s mouth. tweek hummed and craig swallowed it into the back of his throat. it sent strange vibrations through his body. he could feel the way their breathing mingled on each other’s faces as tweek pulled him impossibly closer. their lips melded together.
to be fair, sticking his tongue into somebody’s mouth wasn’t as strange as he expected. he didn’t know why he was even following his expectations anymore, because they’ve all failed him again and again. though, he strangely didn’t feel like complaining. tweek caressed the apples of his cheeks and tipped his head back so he could crash back into him.
it felt good. felt indescribably right. tweek was carefully probing around his mouth, and it took a bit for craig to really process how to kiss back. when he was, he let himself get loose. he pushed all the self consciousness to the side and simply, melted.
he grazed one of his hand’s underneath tweek’s shirt, just to feel his waist. and tweek didn’t move away like he anticipated. no, not at all. he leaned further into him. like he was encouraging it.
okay, making out with a boy in his bed. touching him. nothing…unusual about that. pretty normal.
craig hesitantly started tracing into his skin. tweek’s skin is really cold.
tweek was making small gasps against his lips. he also slid his tongue along his teeth an accident and craig felt him pull back a little, he was just murmuring into his lips again. tweek pressed his forehead against his, turning his face so their noses wouldn’t bump. he was panting.
“your-,” he shut his eyes. relaxing his body into craig, sort of lazily, his hold on him became less firm. “you have braces.”
“…yeah?”
“ngh—it makes it a little more awkward to kiss you when there’s metal scraping my tongue!” that’s what made it awkward for him? but, again, he couldn’t find the confidence to make any snarky comments whatsoever. tweek still seemed to be clinging to that teasing demeanor. it made craig sickly flustered and his brain swarm. stupid fucking bees.
“sorry.” and it seemed it was the only thing he could utter tonight. he was internally scrutinizing his own voice, he sounded…feeble, stupid. he felt small, suffocated a little.
but not entirely in a bad way, actually.
if craig is sure of anything, he is sure his head is legitimately fucking spinning. he’s never felt so nervous in his damn life. or confused.
he wants tweek to keep kissing him.
his body somewhat feels like it needs to do all sorts of things with tweek. but he more or less ignores that thought.
stupid. fucking. tweek.
this is the hardest he’s ever thought about anything in a while. this is the hardest his heart has beaten in a while. fuck, the cliches are getting to him. he has a really, really pleasant fluttering inside his stomach.
tweek kissed him again. he threaded his fingers into craig’s hair. touch made it better. he had, slowly, gotten more accustomed to the motion of sliding his tongue around his mouth— that sounds awful, but the fuck else do you call it? it delved into somewhat of a slow, careful series of this.
tweek sort of just tastes like…mouth? all the times he’s wondered what he might taste of, and that fact becoming apparent to him is a lot scarier than him thinking about the feeling of his lips. he anticipated him to taste like coffee, or of things sweet in general.
maybe that’s also cliché. fuck. fucking, fuck.
but he tastes like saliva. and mint toothpaste. and nothing really worth thinking of this much. but it’s insanely intoxicating for whatever stupid reason. he really, really is completely pissed off at his brain currently. he isn’t too sure why he’s been dropping these bombs on himself. it seemed like some weird form of self sabotage, torture, even. he really didn’t know.
he was also becoming too hyper aware of himself that would be on anybody’s acceptable comfort levels. craig was really wondering how he tasted.
he truly wondered why he cared.
but there was a little itching in the back of his brain, whispering that it was completely normal and valid to be kissing his best friend, fake boyfriend, tweek. nothing …homosexual at all!
so, he let that take over for the time being.
somewhere in the midst of it all, tweek popped off his lips again. when craig opened his eyes, tweek was peering at him through his eyelashes. his face was flushed, and craig took a daring little peek at his lips. they were kiss-bruised and obscenely covered in saliva. and something within craig just sort of bursted.
a million thoughts flowed freely through his head, too rapid to process fully. damn, was he slobbering on him that much? that’s embarrassing. became a little loud. tweek scooted back off him, to sit more on his stomach. but perhaps, the most prominent thought being;
“did…was that-,” craig lost the line of silent in his head thoughts versus spoken out loud ones. “did that mean anything?” and then came the overwhelming feeling of “oh. shit.”
and probably for the first time in this entire interaction, tweek looked shocked. his sleepy eyes went bright and wide, staring craig directly down. craig swore he legitimately saw his fucking eye twitch. he- to be fair, very lightly punched craig in the arm.
“AGH! what. the. fuck? that’s all it fucking took?” did he sound frustrated? craig’s sense of shame heightened and mentally tucked himself back away into the blankets.
“huh? i-“ but tweek shushed him. very aggressively too.
“i’ve been trying to get you to get a fucking clue for years craig.” he squeezed his eyes tight. “and all it took was me kissing you? i would’ve kissed you so long ago.”
“…huh?” he parroted. tweek suddenly firmly grasped craig’s shoulders and shook him a little. craig jumped a little and looked at him wide eyed too.
“craig.” he said between his teeth, he sounded almost desperate. no, that wasn’t it. just a little whiny. “you’re fucking— so genuinely, extremely gay, dude. you’re the most oblivious person on this god damn earth and i’ve been waiting so long to realize that i’m like- in love with you, and you just- it never fucking clicked!” he stopped shaking him. “yes, it a hundred percent did mean something. everything has meant something to me. everything i’ve done for you has always meant ‘something’, craig.”
and for a long time, craig just blankly stared at him.
“oh.” craig murmured stupidly. tweek blinked at him, once. and then twice. and then he wrapped his arms back around him, pushing himself close.
“shut the fuck up.” tweek gave him a look that was both genuinely terrifying and horribly attractive. craig felt like he was a cartoon character about to gulp obscenely loud after facing something scary. god damn it, again with the similes. he looked at him in what could only be described as in awe.
he said a small, barely audible, ‘okay’, and then tweek was kissing him again.
✩
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