Work Header

Tweek's (attempted) Adventures of getting into Craig's pants

Chapter Text

Tweek spends his sixteenth Summer alive in the butt-fuck of nowhere in a secluded mountain range with his parents. It's not like he had a choice, having been forced to pack right after his sophomore year finished, with barely a hasty goodbye to Craig and Crew before Tweek was shoved into the family car and driven away. His parents had avoided any specific details on why they had out of nowhere decided a holiday trip to a place with no Internet or Wi-Fi was appropriate, only sketchy explanations as Tweek sat in the backseat, bouncing up every time the car went over a rough patch.


Crazy thoughts littered in his mind. What could they do if a serial killer stumbled upon their shelter one night and slaughtered them all? Or if a freak accident occurred and no one would check their bodies until it was too late as their corpses decayed until it was so disgusting that there was no way to determine their identity?


Tweek had bitten his bottom lip so hard that it cracked and bled over his mouth from the stress. His parents never looked back, so he wiped away the mess with his moss-green sleeve, seeing it how the dusky red spread across his wrist.


He had promised Craig that he would be back.


After eleven weeks cooped up in the log cabin filled with nothing but coffee beans to use to drink and shitty organic food did Tweek return to South Park with a sense of loneliness.




The air and environment might have been technically healthier in the mountain tops, but genuine human interactions were something Tweek found himself craving and being denied by the no WiFi to keep contact with his boyfriend. His hands shook as he pulled out his phone, the tiny bars determining Online connection which he had sorely missed popped up and he shrieked. It had been too long, and he wasted no time to send a messy text to Craig.


To [Craig <3]: Im finally back! got wifi again and I never want to do this spontaneous family trip again!!


Tweek nervously chewed on his bottom lip, wincing when he felt a cut as his teeth pinched the soft flesh. He desperately needed some chapstick for his dry lips as he tried to smooth the skin by his spit. Spit was too gross but, he needed actual wax to cover his dry mouth – although who knows if the chapstick he had stashed at home was still useable, their house had been empty of several months, who knew if someone broke in between then and rummaged around his belongings and poisoned his stuff.


To [Craig <3]: no one broke into my house when i was goneright?????????


From [Craig <3]: babe, chill nothing happened to your house


Tweek couldn’t help but break out into a smile when Craig texted back almost instantly. There was a warm bubbly feeling that ran up his stomach and throat – and it wasn’t even indigestion – as he saw text bubbles from Craig’s side.


From [Craig <3]: I am so glad youre back. It’s been sooo boring without you. I missed you heaps. We can catch up tomorrow. See you at school Tweekers


Was it possible for smiling to hurt, because the grin stuck on his face wasn’t changing at all, and Tweek couldn’t help but fidget, smushing his face into his arm? He couldn’t wait until the next morning.




The routine for the mornings consisted of Tweek waiting outside the school gates for Craig to arrive before the both of them would enter the grounds. Easier if say, they decided to ditch (mostly Craig’s idea if they did do) so that was exactly what Tweek did. He leaned against the brick wall, head absorbed into staring into his phone, thumbs typing rapidly to Craig who had texted back a minute ago that he was coming soon.


The laughter from moving bodies of the other high school students made Tweek nervous, even after Craig had promised that they were probably giggling at something stupid in their lives and not at Tweek. The blond boy could imagine it, Craig’s monotone voice repeating reassurance that the rest of the world could get stuffed and it was a waste of energy to sink into pleasing the fickle populace of his peers.


His mental discussion was broken as a shadow blocked off the sunlight and he lifted his head in confusion. As he tilted his head upwards, Tweek caught the familiar blue chullo and warm loving gaze contrasting from the sheer terror of just how Tweek had to crane his neck to gape at his boyfriend. His boyfriend who was currently towering over him by a good head or so. His boyfriend who at least several months ago was only a little taller than Tweek.  Now instead, Craig looked like he was hitting over six foot, his limbs longer and more solid at least when Tweek compared it to his memory of his boyfriend before the trip. Tweek wasn’t hallucinating because he pinched himself and it hurt.


“You have no idea how good it is to see you again. Clyde was being an annoying dick and would not stop complaining the entire Summer.” Craig smoothly began the conversation, completely ignorant of how Tweek gaped, eyebrows raised in confusion and a light pink dusting blaring across almost ghostly-pale skin – from just how little sun he had gotten during his stay among the mountains. “I was stuck with him, and Token, not that it’s a bad thing when Token was around, but Clyde seriously wouldn’t shut up about how he had barely grown in the past few months.” Craig half-heartedly shrugged, his piercing look focusing on how silent Tweek had been. “Are you alright Babe?”


Tweek screamed. Shoving around Craig until he ran inside the school, mentally screeching from his new epiphany.  


Just when did Craig get so tall??? Jesus was it weird he really really wanted to throw himself at Craig and ask to be lifted up against the brick wall?!?


What fuck up did he do in his past life to deserve this!

Chapter Text

Craig doesn’t get bitter easily because acknowledging his bitterness means that he is invested emotionally in something, and apathy runs in his blood (a variant at least from the Tucker tradition of flipping everyone off). But he’s hard-pressed to admit that the vice grip that curls in his stomach when Tweek informs him that the blond boy was going to be away from South Park for the Summer is there other than for the depressing fact that Craig would be away from his boyfriend.   

Craig doesn’t like to outwardly share his feelings, and he’s only just beginning to find out how useful it can be to actively enact his emotions to a select few that don't conclude in annoyance or general anger. Tweek is one of the few that gets the chance to see his progression of emotional improvement – and honestly, the priviest to the changes considering Stripe doesn’t count as a human contender to give feedback. But at that moment, when Tweek had broke the news, his face downwards and his shoes scuffling at the dirt, Craig didn’t feel like any words could summarize his emotions. Instead, he opened his arms and pulled his boyfriend into a warm embrace, digging his head into the crook of Tweek’s neck for a moment, muffling his boyfriend’s confused squeak.

Craig laid his forehead against Tweek’s, their clammy closeness made Tweek shiver and avoid the black-haired boy’s intense stare, pale green doe-eyes twitching and cute button- nose tingling. Mouthing something sappy that Craig could not for the life remember, the older boy had pressed a closed-mouth kiss against his lover’s wobbling lips and whispered his goodbye in a hushed voice, too quiet and fragile in its weight for anyone else to hear and witness.




So Craig fills the Summertime in three different ways. The first is a casual job he picks up at a local Garage, working with other stuffy mechanic guys fixing up shitty cars in the shitty insulation of the building with shitty air-conditions and even shitter hours.

But it pays, and at the end of the day when he gets his cash handed to him is all that matters. Because cash means he can save up and buy a proper telescope (not a kid’s version that is thrown somewhere in his closet) that’s high-tech and can actually be used to peer into Space in clearer quality so he can gaze up the twinkling and dazzling world above with Tweek. Clyde had cooed at him when Craig offhandedly mentioned his job and Clyde threw an effeminate friendly slap in jest accompanied by waggling eyebrows.

Craig obviously flipped the bird at him.

The second is with his group of his friends he’s affectionately named his ‘Gang’ (Clyde’s words not his). Whether it was late nights at Token’s with the newest games, or generally hanging out in South Park (which admittedly is pretty calm when they don’t run into Cartman and his friends because casually fuck them whenever they pop up, he’s still not over being screwed his hundred dollars) eats up another portion of his time.

The third and final is his seasonal workouts at the local swimming centre. He ‘borrows’ Token’s gym membership and ducks in whenever he’s feeling an urge for an outlet for his bad moods. Swimming laps he finds calms him.  There’s a soothing lull that occurs when he works his way to and fro from each side of the fifty-metre pool. He usually goes when its busy enough that the receptionist is overwhelmed enough that she doesn’t stare too intensely at his ‘borrowed’ gym card and picks a spot to wait until a good portion of people leave right after the timed ‘rush hour’ that he dubs. He’s content to pace himself throughout the Summer, even though he thinks sometimes late at night while he’s in bed, looking fondly through his phone at the snapshots he’s collected over the years, at Tweek’s messy flaxen hair and shy smiles, that he feels a little lonely.




Swimming as Craig founds out has some unexpected consequences. That being he shot up – in height, not referring to anything else, he might be from a poor-as-fuck family but not because of drugs like Kenny's – from his measly five foot five during the Sophomore year to a whopping six foot two. His clothes, which had fit fine a few months ago now strained to just cover his awkwardly gangly teenage body. His mom had complained the entire time that he outgrew half his wardrobe and had to replace it with clothes that actually fit him. At least he could pay for his clothes (not that he cared much for fashion, all he wore were different shades of blue anyway). He felt himself stumble over his feet occasionally because of course, he outgrew his normal shoe size too. Clyde made sure that Craig never forgot that the Chullo-wearing resident was now towering over his friends (bar Token who was almost eye-level from his freakishly out of nowhere growth spurt).


“I can’t believe both of you are so tall now,” Clyde complained, grabbing a fistful of dusty orange Cheetos and shovelling them in his mouth, crunching them with some mild frustration. “I barely grew at all these holidays and I’m so close to need to tilt my head just to talk you two giants.”


“Guess that means you have to Git Gud,” Token smiled, his gaze fixated to the TV screen, not even chucking a look to take in Clyde’s horrified expression, “Oh cover me, Clyde, now while I kick the other team’s Tank.”


“Maybe if you actually eat healthily you might gain some inches instead of some pounds,” Craig retorted in his classic deadpan tone, “Stop getting distracted and do your job.”


“Craig Tucker! Are you calling me fat?” Clyde shook a finger at his friend who too was engrossed in the current online match. “Are you…body shaming me in this sacred house of goodwill and family values.”


Craig pauses momentarily from his game. He throws a blank expression and opens his mouth. “Yes.” He then returns his attention back to the game and avoids Clyde’s facial expression boggling out in mock offence.


“Hey, you don’t have to rub it in that you are practically sex on walking legs!” Clyde pouts, sinking into the comfortable couch.


Craig paused again. “I’m what?


Clyde replies, “You know the other chicks and some dudes have been saying how attractive you’ve turned out. A lot of them are bitching that it's not fair you’re dating Tweek, which by the way is not my opinion.” Clyde holds up his hands in surrender and that elicits a click of the tongue from Token who intervenes with a sharp jab.


“Clyde come on, heal me dammit.”


Craig focuses his attention, drowning out the background noises of explosions and the sprays of bullets ingame as Token and Clyde bicker in half joking, half serious complaints.


Sex on walking legs huh.




Lonely nights sometimes turn into horny nights. Not that he gets to schedule which days his bedtimes turn into a rub-off session because his body didn’t want to listen to him half the time. Blah blah blah, masturbation was a healthy activity during puberty, blah blah blah, you shouldn’t feel guilty about doing it. Well, Craig was pretty sure Sex-Ed classes also didn’t teach what material was okay used as wanking because there was a severe amount of fucked up shit on the Internet.

Not like he ever got a kick out of it. Because, as Craig found from his porn-searching experiments that the only times he actually got aroused enough and could keep a boner through the entire session of his own volition was if the pornstar in the video was a slender blond individual with a knack for running his mouth. And even then, half the time he was furiously trying to whack it, watching as the blond actor get pounded by a thick dick. The other half was shamefully trying to imagine the porn-actor being replaced by a fictional version of Tweek who meekly moaned and withered on a sunken shaft in his swollen hole – which actually kind of pissed him off because he did not like the idea of Tweek being penetrated by another person.  

Okay after some self-reflection he guessed that was a little messed-up. Just a little. Mostly because he wasn’t exactly sure how Tweek would feel about sex, lest being the one getting fucked.


He also might have had some passing thoughts about whether Tweek would twitch if Craig ever slid his dick in any of his boyfriend’s orifices.



That was at least a little bit fucked up.




When Tweek texts him near the end of Summer break, a day before School resumes, Craig almost drops his phone in surprise. He’s been disconnected from his boyfriend for too long and it almost shows in how fast he replies. He barely gets any sleep that night, too jittery from excitement and he wonders if this is what Tweek feels all the time. It does suck quite a bit, especially when he wakes up late and almost rushes out of the house so he can get to School on time.

Not the best way to start his Junior year, and an even worse way to reunite with his boyfriend.

As he walks towards the front gates to their designated meeting place, Craig really can’t help but smirk. His boyfriend seems too focused on his phone to notice his presence and even though he chalks it up to perspective initially from the small size of his lover, Craig can’t deny that Tweek seems almost tiny in comparison. He makes a mental comparison to Tweek to a forest animal, from the deep soulful eyes and almost careful movements Craig has to deal to coax Tweek’s nerves away. Although even baby deer eventually get horns, so calling Tweek a helpless animal is a little rude because his partner can certainly kick ass when needed.

He stops in front of his boyfriend, giving a few seconds for Tweek to become accustomed to the sudden darkness covering him. Its just so uplifting to see him that he speaks, brushing any opening greetings. As he finishes his babbler, he can’t help think that his boyfriend has been uncharacteristically quiet. He throws an inquisitive look downwards, and oh, something flickers in him when he realizes how short Tweek is, how vulnerable he appears, green gazing to return Craig’s blue stare.

Shit, is it strange it kind of makes him want to scoop Tweek up in his arms?

He sees Tweek’s plush mouth opens and a piercing cry comes out. Ah, there it is. The Tweek he knew. Craig was about to settle a comforting hand on his boyfriend’s shaking shoulders until the area that Tweek took up became empty and Craig blinked a few times before he came to the conclusion that Tweek just ran away. Vanished into thin air – although not really because he could still hear his slowly quieter yells in the distance.

What the fuck?

Chapter Text

‘Stupid, stupid, stupid’ Tweek thinks as he rushes through the school hallways like a madman, ducking and maneuvering through the crowds of kids, nearly crashing into people several times. ‘Oh God, I’m going to hit someone and theyare going to fall over and smack their head onto something sharp andbleed all over and die, ohgodohgodohgod-


He creeps closer to the lockers, his hands grappling along the cold metal, his palm pressed against the material as he slides across the family of lockers until he reaches his own. Finally, Tweek lets out the breath he'd been holding, a rush of carbon dioxide polluting out from his mouth and he shakes just a little as his fingers run over the dial until he hears his combination be accepted. His hands move quickly, grabbing his silver thermos that is filled with coffee stuffed on the middle shelf. Taking a rapid gulp, he downs his life-saving liquid, feeling the warmth run down his throat, cloying in its bitterness and how deeply he needed it to calm his nerves. 


He can feel his breathing calm down. Instead of his heart pumping so much blood, he swears it would burst and he would die from internal bleeding with the alarms of his rushing blood to his brain, now he can hear the noises and racket of the other students chatting and being general nuisances. He makes a move to take another gulp of the liquid gold but before his lips can cover the bottle’s opening, a hand snatches it from Tweek’s grasp. “GAH! What areyou doing?!?”


“Well, well, well.” The tone coming from the person who grabbed Tweek’s thermos makes the blond boy freeze. Godfucking dammit its Eric Cartman, class hasn’t even started and he has to deal with this bullshit. “Look who didn’t change at all over the Summer. How’s your neck from how much you have to look up to everyone going?”


“P-piss off Cartman,” Tweek stammers out, trying to make a grab for his stuff, only for the other boy to lift the bottle so high that Tweek can’t reach it, “Grr, giveme my thermos back you asshole!”


“Nah uh, I don’t think so. Why don’t you get it yourself?” Eric sneers waving the metal container out of reach, with Tweek almost tempted to jump up and pluck it out of Cartman’s grubby hands, “Besides I’m sure you have more experience having to look up from sucking Craig’s dick you fag.”


Tweek clenches his fist and bites his lips so much they start to sting. Fuck Cartman, fuck him for making Tweek think about the mental image right in the middle hallway. Fuck him for thinking he can walk over him and mess with him. He’s fuming from his nose, flashing green eyes glaring at Cartman’s leering face, as his legs fall into place, posture straightened up and his arm pulled back, fist ready…


“Give Tweek his thermos back.”


The short order comes from Craig who walks by, with a casual indifference in his posture, but Tweek can read the little signs on his boyfriend’s face that tell a different story. Craig’s eyebrows are raised, there’s just a slimmer of a frown resting on the Chullo-wearing boy and an icy stare is being straight directed at Eric who for a second is taken aback from Craig’s presence.


“What’s this? Prince Charming to the rescue or somethin’.” Eric retorts as he gets his voice back, waving the thermos again but it’s held with less confidence, “You can’t make me.” There’s a childish tone behind the words, seemingly like Eric isn’t sure if he believes those vowels dripping from his mouth.


Craig steps forward and cracks his neck like an intimidation act and the students around stop their chatter and watch with eager eyes. “I would be happy to. Or you could just give my boyfriend his stuff back and we can go back and pretend this never happened your choice.”


“Yeah right,” Cartman scoffs, “You wouldn’t want to get suspended on the first day back.”


“Try me.” Craig enunciates, “Zero-tolerance policy means that if I get suspended, so do you. So decide bitch, what’s it going to be?”


Eric glares back at Craig who is coolly keeping his body to shield Tweek’s trembling body, a hand squeezing Tweek’s shaking fingers with reassurance and the shorter boy can’t help the sense of awe and something else curling around in his stomach. Something hot and tingly that wants to come out of his mouth like a secret.


“Fine, whatever, here’s your stupid thermos,” Cartman clicks his tongue and tries to elude an aloof atmosphere, throwing the container which Craig catches in one swift movement without blinking and returns it back into Tweek’s hands. Cartman stomps away muttering swears and phrases of ‘Goddamn Homos in my school’.


“Shoo.” Craig directs the order to the gawping crowd and the bell rings to signal the start of the first class of the day. The rush of people starts to dissipate as the students find themselves easing back into the routine, their attention-span being captured by their own vapid desires. The two of them are left nearly alone as the majority of the people walk into class.


“You ran away.” Craig bluntly says, and Tweek flinches from the accusation he thinks Craig is going to spill, “Are you alright?” Craig brushes a hand that’s been tanned after the Summer days through Tweek’s locks, untangling some knots with careful fingers. Tweek can’t help the gentle gesture sending a flutter through his insides, it just feels so strange.


As he witnessed the entire altercation, he was experiencing a tumble-dry of emotions soaring through his mind. And the biggest thought was just how fucking hot Craig looked not taking any of Cartman’s shit, with barely anyone knowing how actually close to how his boyfriend was from pummelling the bigger boy. Barely holding on to some stupid Primal-Alpha shit that Tweek would have scoffed at years ago.


Except now, this type of thing was now his thing, if the dryness in his mouth and the shaking of his legs and the hot flush spread across his face and his neck was an indicator of just how much Tweek fucking loved it.


“Gah, we should get to our classes now.” Tweek pathetically replied, shoving his thermos back into his locker, just so he could avoid Craig’s intense gaze, “You s-should get to class before you get detention just for being late.”


As Tweek rushed away, he didn’t catch the frown that had appeared on Craig’s face.





Tweek couldn’t concentrate, not in AP U.S History with the boring voice of the teacher and the even more bored students. He ran his hand through his hair, tugging at the roots until he remembered Craig’s soft hands trying to pat down the mess and he stopped so he didn’t undo all of Craig’s hard work.


God, speaking about hard, Tweek found himself awkwardly fidgeting more than usual on his seat. The seat was so wooden and so uncomfortable, not like if he was sitting on Craig who was all warm flesh and soft cushioning…


Gah! What was he thinking about Craig like that?!


He was already a weirdo, everyone knew that, but now he was a horny weirdo who couldn’t keep his lewd thoughts from falling out! He slapped his hands across his mouth, almost like the dam of his secrets were going to surge out.


Was he…sexually attracted to Craig?


Tweek racked his brains, his forehead hitting the table with a loud thwack that no one reacted through conditionally accepting this behaviour from the class spaz.


That…wasn’t weird was it? Tweek wasn’t sure, the thing was he never thought about Craig in that type of way until now.


They did coupley-stuff like dates and nicknames, and they had kissed and made-out already! But he guessed, they never really acknowledged any arousal from both of them, always stopping before things got too heated and working off the heightened emotions by gaming or something.


But now, now. Tweek hotly thought, Craig’s physical characteristics could not be ignored. The way that he just towered above Tweek, the sheer volume from how much Craig seemed to fill out and the Goddamn affection that Craig still had for Tweek that didn’t waver at all even after months apart making the blond boy gasp, was seriously a…turn-on?


Tweek couldn’t tell Craig. Absolutely not, Craig would be disgusted from how much he was aroused from lover’s new height, the fact that his boyfriend was so much taller being attractive was too weird!


He slammed his head down again. Miserable and defeated he screamed into his hands. He was about to accept this defeat until he felt something bounce on his head. He perked up and a crumpled ball fell from the golden nest of his hair. He unravelled the paper and read Wendy’s neat writing ‘If something is bothering you, feel free to come join the girls and I this afternoon’. Tweek squinted as he mouthed the words. He swirled around, catching Wendy’s curious glance and he nodded and she let out a gentle smile.


The girls would know. He thought to himself, he could ask them about his emotions and what to do about them. He couldn’t talk to Token, Clyde or Jimmy about his feelings because of their close connection to Craig (who was the source of this current trouble) so the girls of South Park seemed like the next best thing.


Yes, he thought as he breathed normally, the girls would know what to do.


Stupid, stupid hormones.

Chapter Text

There was something on Tweek’s mind, Craig noticed.  Not like there weren’t constant electrifying topics bouncing around his boyfriend’s brain like a basketball, from one set of knowledge to the next like a strange trail of consciousness of looniness but.


This time, it felt different.


Like, this time, it seeped under his skin, prickling the fine hairs on his arms and legs into urgency. The strange behaviour Tweek was exhibiting was something Craig couldn’t shake off. And he didn’t like being left in the dark about Tweek’s thoughts that could be damaging to his lover’s confidence or mental state.  


And Tweek was definitely brushing him off. The text that Craig had sent during class as he sneakily typed his concerns was put on Read. For the entire lesson. That ticked him off, just a tad. But he grumbled through his A.P Calculus in silence, stewing his worries into pressing his pencil just a slightly harder onto his paper than necessary. He checked the chat as the bell rang for the end of class, and narrowed his eyes to the response he finally got.


From [ Tweekers <3]: im going to be sitting with the girls during break and after school. You dont need to wait for me


Craig gently massaged his forehead, the slimmest residue of irritation spread across his skin.




“You don’t think he’s cheating on you?” Clyde poked at his food with a plastic fork, “I mean, all these escape-plans sounds like he’s trying to avoid something. Do you think he got it on with some boy from the wildness on his trip?” Clyde blanched before shoving the rather feeble-looking lettuce in his mouth.


“Really?” Token injected with his voice of reason, “You really think that Tweek, knowing all his mannerisms would fool around with someone, let alone from the forest.” Token glanced at Clyde’s face that had been scrunched up from eating the greens. “Are you kidding me, it’s lettuce Clyde.”


“Lettuce is rabbit food!” Clyde remarked, groaning as he stabbed his dull green lunch, “I can’t understand how people get full off a salad of all things.”


“Girls manage it somehow.” Token drawled out, munching on his dish that looked more appetizing than Clyde’s, with a careful balance of meat and vegetables. “Speaking of girls, it just looks like Tweek is spending some time with the chicks.” Gesturing to the far side of the cafeteria where bundled together were the female population of South Park with the peek of messy blond among the sea of oestrogen.


“Yeah, d-d-don’t worry about it Craig.” Jimmy spoke matter-of-factly, “He might just be more in t-t-tune with his more emotional side. Hence the sitting with girls.”


“Emotional side.” Craig deadpanned. “The fuck does that have to do with the girls?”


Clyde shoved the crunchy leaves in his mouth, “Y’wah, l’ke y’know sw’ince Tweek is p’robaly ‘he bottom.”


Craig stopped swirling the yogurt, looking up from his dessert. “What.”


“TMI, Clyde.” Token remarked. “What happens in the bedroom stays there.”


“Oh come on, now like you haven’t heard what the people are betting on.” Clyde injected looking at least a little sheepish from Craig’s glare. “Not like I’ve been betting of course. I wouldn’t do that to my friend.”


“You’re not helping your case at all.” Craig clicked his tongue in annoyance. “None of you are.” He glanced quickly to where this boyfriend was, sitting firmly and gesturing wildly to the nodding girls.  


Craig scooped a small portion of his yogurt and popped it in his mouth, savouring the strawberry meal.


“Wait. What bet?”




Craig had to force himself to trudge forward on the path home. His normal afternoon would consist of Tweek and him going to either one of their houses, and spending the rest of the day lazily messing around, with some instances of productivity. When Tweek wasn’t on afternoon shifts at Tweek’s Bros. Coffeehouse at least.


But today was one of the days where Craig was alone. As he pushed his key into his front doorway, the house returned his arrival with silence. Both his parents were working until late and Tricia was studying at the local Library since their Internet connection wasn’t as fast as the public space.


So he flopped onto his bed, stomach first and dropped his head onto the pillow. Bored out of his mind since he had finished his homework for the next week because he had no choice but to actually focus during Study Hall, since Tweek was in his other class and refused to return his texts. Someone was bitchy.


He had checked Stripe’s cage, making sure that Stripe #9 had been fed, her water replenished, and her cage cleaned from her shit being stacked everywhere.


He stared intensely at his phone, looking blankly the screen. His mind wishy-washy in what he wanted to do. What exactly did he use to do before Tweek came into his life? He flicked between various websites and articles of some Space Exploration projects that were being funded that he kept bookmarked to check for progress.


He saw his Lava Lamp peek from the corner of his eye and he huffed. It was their third-year anniversary gift. Tweek had gotten a matching one and apparently it was supposed to light-up and mimic movement if the other person was touching the surface. It was a childish gift that they saved up and gave each other. He could remember how much Tweek had poked and prodded the lamp at first and talked about Government conspiracies in keeping track of their citizens. Craig had replied that if the FBI were going to spy on everyone it wouldn’t be used in the niche markets of Lava Lamp owners. That had calmed down Tweek and now his boyfriend would use it as a signal for whenever he would come over in the middle of the night before the two of them got their own phone at least.


His boyfriend was adorable. Really fucking cute. What wasn’t cute was this cold shoulder of sorts.  Did the time away during Summer really ruin their relationship? Was it so fragile that they couldn’t deal with some simple talking?


Not like Craig could say fuck all. His kryptonite was communication – of all the things that could be his downfall, talking was his main issue. Sure they did the couple therapy years ago when they were younger but half that session was beating other kids up to de-stress their emotions. Now being teenagers, their other choice was to jack off and deal with their problems that way.


“Really?” Craig shifted against his sheets, as he felt his arousal straining against his pants. Was he really that hormonal that simply just thinking about the act of rubbing one out was enough to get him sprung? He spied his headphones from the other side of the room and he wasn’t desperate enough to go free-all and watch porn just in case Tricia came home early and he would rather not deal with that fallout.


He pushed himself up and turned onto his back, his head propped on his pillow. Fine, his imagination would do. His default scenario now was usually Tweek, since they were boyfriends so it seemed normal if he fantasized about his partner. Craig closed his eyes and let his mind wander.


It always started slow and sweet, some quick pecks on lips, before longer dips including tongue from personal experience Craig could use as masturbation fodder. Sometimes it would lead into some heavy petting, with their clothed bodies grinding on-top of each other. Breathless gasps being swallowed by hot mouths as they pressed their lips against exposed skin, sucking the soft surface and leaving blemishes behind. That was one of Craig’s favourite things to do along Tweek’s pale neck, just reddened spots where his mouth had been lavishing attention to.


Craig popped the button for his jeans and then slid down the zip and pulled out his hardening length. Giving a few lazy strokes while his other hand pulled out the lube container and squirted onto skin and swapping the hand so it could sweep the liquid across his hardness. One of the things he learnt from his growth-spurt was that his cock size seemed to be in proportion to his height, gaining a fair few inches from the last time he measured his dick – Elementary School was a weird time in South Park and he remembered he was the second biggest out of all the boys. He could hear the squelching sounds as his lubricated hand met his hot jutting flesh and he imagined it as background noise to his fantasy.


‘Craig, oh fuck, Craig. Come on, stop being a tease, touch me you dickhead ’ Imagination Tweek would whine as he pinched Craig’s arm in mild annoyance. Yeah, that was the stuff he liked, just when Tweek was a little more riled up and aggressive and knew exactly want he wanted.


‘Come on and fuck me’


The scene for that wanton begging morphed into something different. Instead of some grinding going on, Craig found himself being shown a scene of Tweek sans clothes, laying on his back with his legs spread open, pulling his entrance with shaky fingers where milky liquid had already been leaking out. The expression on his boyfriend was soft and inviting and Tweek fucking cooed at him, widening his legs which let out a drizzle of the cum in his ass to seep out. Fuck. Fuck.


Fuck that was hot.


Craig muffled his groans with his sleeve, as his hand sped up in his movement. He angled his dick like he was imagining penetrating his boyfriend as Tweek eagerly took the length until Craig was essentially balls-deep into his partner. Even though Tweek was much smaller in comparison, the blond boy didn’t have any trouble accepting Craig to the hilt, clenching his insides against Craig’s cock. Thrusting into his lover as Tweek whined and drooled and screamed his name. Shit-fucking-dammit that was such a turn-on. The contrast between Craig’s tan skin and Tweek’s pale form was enough to send his orgasm over, as he spilled into his hand with Tweek’s name on his tongue and the image of Tweek pleading to have his ass filled up with cum.


As Craig found his breath and his thoughts from his high, he felt guilty. Did Tweek have any idea of how much his smaller size was making Craig crazy?


Chapter Text

Was it possible for a room to have too much pink that it made him physically sick? Tweek squinted at the scene in front of him, various hues of pink and red everywhere in the vicinity of his current position squashed between Bebe and Wendy who nudged their elbows against him, as Red, Lola, Heidi and Nichole sat ahead. The girls were trying to be subtle and understanding of his feelings, talking to each other until Tweek was comfortable enough to raise his voice. Tweek fiddled with the buttons on his green shirt, the mismatched order making him hypersensitive to everything around him. The higher-pitched tones, the delicate actions they made lulled Tweek into calm his breathing from how their movements which were concise and gentle.     


Wendy pressed her hands together and projected her voice so it cut through the conversations like a knife into hot butter, precise and striking. “Alright, we’ve gathered around today to discuss a matter concerning Tweek Tweak. Remember this area is a Safe Space and anything that is said, stays in this room.” She clapped her hands loudly, “Sparkle.”


“Sunshine.” The girls chorused back and Tweek looked confusedly between the all of them. Girls were so weird!


“Alright, you can take the stage Tweek, remember we’re here to hear you out and listen to your worries.”


Tweek mumbled under his breath leading Wendy to gently patted his knee, and he startled at the touch, shaking his head. “Just a little louder Tweek so everyone can hear.”


He took a deep breath before blurting out, “I think I have feelings for Craig.”


The girls stared at him, flabbergasted at Tweek’s confession.


“Tweek.” Bebe started, “We kind of expect you to have feelings for Craig, since you two are boyfriends and all.”


“Not like that, I-I mean.” Tweek shivered as he looked expectantly at the curious expressions of all the girls, “like…I…have these new feelings. A-and I don’t know what to do with them.”


“What type of new feelings?” Red softly asked and Tweek covered his hands as his cheeks heated up.


“Like I get allthese funny feelings when I see Craig now, like all in my stomach and my throat and my cheeks and I can’t look at his face like normally because he’s so tall now.” Tweek clenched his hands together, squeezing the embarrassment out into words, “And whenI think about how tall he is, I get all tingly and I want him to pickme up and-” Tweek narrowed his eyes, trying to remember what phrase he described it before, “- throw me against a wall?”


The girls seemed to be taken-aback from Tweek’s rapid fire of words and they looked at each other for guidance. Bebe was the first to break from her stupor, shaking her head and clearing her throat.


“Are you saying you want to bone Craig because of his height?”


“No?! I mean, maybe? Idontknow,” Tweek shouted back, his hands digging through his hair, “Ah! Why is this so difficult!???”


“Tweek, it’s fine if you’re attracted to Craig’s height. Everyone is into unexplainable things.” Wendy spoke smoothly, looking straight into Tweek’s eyes. “If the difference in your height turns you on, that’s perfectly healthy.”


“I-it is?” Tweek mumbled, releasing his hands from pulling at his hair. “I-um, what..what can I do about it?”


“You could let Craig tap your sweet ass.” Bebe answers and all the girls squeal, with varying inflections of ‘Bebe!’.


“Whatabout my ass is sweet? Does Craig want to eat it?? Oh God, is Craig a cannibal?” Tweek flailed around as the girls giggled. Lola muttered under her breath something like ‘he’ll be eating something alright’ and the girls break out into another round of chuckles. It takes a few minutes for everyone to calm down from the ruckus, capitalised by Wendy clapping her hands again.


“No, Tweek,” Wendy explains when everyone gives their attention to her, “Bebe means that you could have sex with Craig now since you’re interested.”


“S-sex! Like,” Tweek mimics the old-school action of making his index finger and thumb into a circle while his other hand points like a gun and the girls roll their eyes in amusement.” W-with Craig? Oh, Jesus, that’s too much pressure to get it right! What happens if Craig doesn’t like butts?”


“If Craig is a normal teenage boy then he definitely is into asses. Since he’s gay and all, and you’ve got a cute butt so go and flaunt it.” Bebe winks and the smirk she sends is almost predatory.


“But you don’t have to jump into it,” Heidi intervenes, speaking motherly, “There’s no reason to go all the way at first.”


“Yeah, there isn’t a set schedule for sex,” Nichole injects, “it should be done when you’re comfortable and only then.”


“Just follow the Base Rule and you should be fine.” Red adds on.


“Base Rule?” Tweek ponders on the concept, “What’s that?”


“It’s the steps leading up to sex.” Wendy opens her palm and holds her index. “The first is kissing.” The other girls nod their head and the black-haired girl falters for a moment, “Traditionally Second Base is breasts but for you…” She trails off, peering at Tweek’s face.


“It could be mutual masturbation or something.” Bebe swoops in and says confidently, gathering smile and nods from the other girls.


“Terminology change accepted. Sparkle.” Wendy picks up her words again.




Again, girls were strange.


“So that’s second base. The third is Oral sex, receiving or giving in your case.” Wendy carried on before touching her pinky, “and finally anal penetrative sex.”


“The Base Rules are a good indicator of how comfortable you feel about your body and what you’re willing to do.” Bebe spoke, tapping a finger to her lips, “They’re in order but it doesn’t mean you have go one by one.” She smiled and pressed her finger to her lips like a secret, “Sometimes getting to the good stuff as soon possible pays off.”


“Bebe, stop it you harlot.” Red rolled her eyes as Nichole giggled.


“We can send you resources if you want to do some research before doing the real thing.” Heidi comments and the girls nod in agreement. “Wendy can go and add you to our group chat if that’s okay?”


“Sure, okay, that’s sounds fine to me.” Tweek replied, releasing his hold on his hair.


“Now,” Lola stated, “Payment time.”


“Payment?! What payment?? I didntbring any money with me –nng.” Tweek nervously flounced out.  


“Not monetary payment silly,” Red wickedly smiled, “We mean gossip payment.”




Lola tucks a brown strand behind her ear, “Look, we completely support Craig and you, don’t get us wrong, but that doesn’t mean we can’t at least live through the juicy goss’ about Craig’s sexual expertise.”


There’s another round of nodding from the girls at Lola’s words, “Just because he’s gay and taken doesn’t mean we can’t at least appreciate the eye-candy.” Bebe explains.


“So tell us about what happens, that’s all we’re asking.” Heidi smoothly comments and Tweek makes an embarrassed noise.


“Ah-ah, about us trying to have sex?” Tweek fiddles out, looking at the excited faces of all the girls, “That’s too much pressure for me to handle! I’m not a good storyteller.”


Wendy swoops in, “Okay, how about this. I’ll start off with one of my experiences.” She looks to everyone with a serious stare, “Remember, nothing leaves this room when said. Alright, so there was a general reason why I broke up with Stan last year.” Tweek perks his head up as all the girls wait with bated breath for the explanation. “It was a lot of things in the end, but the catalyst was when I was trying to blow him and instead of saying my name, of all things,” Everyone leans forward as Wendy’s voice goes lower and quieter, “he said Kyle-fucking-Broflovski as he came.”


The girl’s reactions were instantaneous with yells and squeals as Wendy looks absolutely smug, “That’s right, he said his best friend’s name just as he was orgasming. Guess who was dumping his ass ASAP.”  





The girls turned out to a lot more helpful than Tweek expected. Definitely more than what the guys would have done – probably said something like watch porn and get pointers which Tweek would not have appreciated because porn was a fantasy backed with money to become a reality. At least with the girls, they provided various links and articles which had only briefly skimmed over the titles while half-distracted. He booted up Craig and his shared laptop, making sure to head to the incognito mode which Craig didn’t seem to have used because half the searches for PornHub tended to be skinny blond boys getting fucked in almost physically impossible positions.


He was pretty sure his boyfriend had a hard-on for blonds. Lucky him.


As he focused on the resources the girls sent him, he felt an overwhelming dread looking over at all the titles. Every article made the sinking feeling in his belly dip further as he clicked through the text and looked at the accompanying images


6 Sex Positions to Try If He Has a Big Penis

5 Anal Sex Positions You've Probably Never Tried

5 Sex Positions for When Your Partner Has a Thick Penis

5 Stimulating Sex Positions That Are Perfect For Masturbating

5 Life-Saving Sex Positions if Your Partner Has a Mega Pee 


Were the girls not-so-subtly trying to tell him something about Craig’s package? Just because Craig was much taller now didn’t mean his dick size was also huge. Right?


Chapter Text

Craig was very bored as he sat in his seat during English class. Soooo bored. He would have been tempted to lower his chullo and take a nap if it wasn’t for the fact that English was one of the few subjects that he shared with Tweek.


Speaking of his boyfriend, Craig chucked a look at his general direction and saw his partner practicality vibrate on the seat. And it wasn’t normal twitching either, this time he felt like Tweek had something he was dying to say.


Out of nowhere, Tweek turned his head and returned Craig’s glance, frowned and then took out his phone and typed something out. Staring intensely at the screen hidden under the desk, Tweek took a few seconds to chew his bottom lip before replying to whoever was texting him and then put the device away.


Craig sulked. He was not jealous of whoever was apparently more engaging to Tweek then his boyfriend. Not at all. The English teacher droned on about their next assignment but Craig wasn’t listening. As the bell rung, he was sure Tweek was going to escape before he could pin down his boyfriend into a conversation, but he was surprised when Tweek actually came over to his desk and stopped.


“Can I come to your house to work on the assessment today?”


“Sure.” Craig shrugged casually, sticking his hands into his pockets. “We can do work today.”





“Stop getting distracted and pay attention to mywords damnit Craig.” Tweek admonished with resignation as he lowered his shoulders and prodded his boyfriend’s cheek.


“But you’re the reason for my distraction,” Craig drawled, placing his hand over Tweek’s finger and cradling it against his warm cheeks, “I would rather listen to you ramble then the literary techniques in To Kill a Mocking Bird.


“I’m trying to get you to pass English you asshole,” Tweek complained, “This assignment is worth thirty-five percent of the grade and allyouneed is to memorize a few sentences.”


“Can’t be bothered,” Craig puffed out, pulling Tweek’s finger closer until the twitchy blond’s knuckles were pressing against Craig’s lips, “I rather be doing something else.” The insinuation was laid down in front of both them as Craig gazed with mirth and hidden desire swimming among the azure pools of his eyes.


“C-Craig, man, we’re supposed to be doing work.” Tweek nervously spat out, “Stop being an idiot andfocus.”


Lightly brushing the skin across Tweek’s hand, Craig thoroughly enjoyed how pink his lover’s face had become, like a light-switched being turned on, Tweek’s expression doubled in intensity.


“M-man! Stop fucking around!”


“Make me.” The challenge sparked something in Tweek’s eyes, flashing like lightning and just as bold and that made Craig’s blood simmer under his skin from the glimmer of something dark and inviting.


“Fine.” Tweek responded after a moment of thought and Craig faltered in his gutsy façade for a second.


“Wait, really?”


Tweek retracted his hand from Craig’s grip and huffed out a shaky breath, holding his index finger up, “every time you get a quote and technique right and explainitproperly,” The shorter boy bit his lips, digging his teeth into the flesh and chewing with thoughtfulness that drew Craig’s attention, “I’ll give you a kiss.”


“One kiss.” Craig perked his head up, intrigue laced with his words, “for every correct answer?”


“Yeah,” Tweek nodded his head in agreement, scampering through the copious amounts of paper with notes written in hasty scribbles, “I’ve highlighted and written which onesare the most flexible – geck, but,” he pointed to a few ones circled in messy blue ink, “these ones are the moststaple and youcantgo wrong.”


“Okay.” Craig accepted the conditions, “Give me some time to memorise then.”


Fuelled by the promise of being able to meet his lips to his boyfriend’s, Craig found it rather easy to focus, his eyes rapidly flying through the quotes and matching it up to a technique. Words were easier to remember when they held an agenda behind it.


“Alright, whatis important about the mockingbirds?” Tweek asked, rubbing his fingers on the sheet of paper as Craig tucked a hand under his chin.


“The mockingbirds serve as symbolism throughout the entire book as a representation of innocence. They provide to the story a way to link an idea to people, in this case, Boo and Tom in different facets. The quote ‘it’s a sin to kill a mockingbird’ ties the overall moral lesson by linking human brutality and animal murder.” Craig spoke in a consistent monotone voice, all the while keeping his eyes on Tweek’s twitching face.


“Okay, notbad. But what about the impact?” Tweek pressed on, looking not-quite convinced at Craig’s answer.


Craig leaned closer, thumbing his partner’s soft cheeks, “It reduces the humanity of the characters Tom and Boo into animals, thus questioning the reader’s perception of the treatment of these ostracized characters and creating sympathy.” Craig grinned, “did I get that right?”


“Yeahokay you did.” Tweek breathed out, “One kiss.”


Fat-chance for it being only one kiss. Craig was going to rock Tweek’s socks off and tempt his boyfriend into continuing. Nudging his seat closer by rocking forward, Craig cupped Tweek’s head, his tan fingers brushing through his boyfriend’s golden mane and used his other unoccupied hand to tilt the shorter boy’s chin up. Parting his lips, Craig blew a single warm breath across Tweek’s trembling mouth, his partner’s eyes widened in suspense, the pupils dilated just by a slight enlargement. It was just one kiss, their mouths resting against each other as Craig swiped his tongue against Tweek’s chapped lips, smothering the cracked skin in a layer of sticky saliva and pushing his mouth muscle into Tweek’s mouth, sliding across the latter’s teeth and rubbing against the soft inner muscle.


Tweek faintly tasted of coffee, most likely from his atrocious intake that Craig would never understand his partner’s tolerance level, spread in the saliva that Craig encountered as Tweek seemed to subconsciously open his mouth from the black haired boy’s actions. Craig could feel the oxygen in his lungs begin to run out, and he moved his tongue out of his partner’s mouth and chose to gently nibble on Tweek’s plush bottom lip, drawing breathy moans from his boyfriend before breaking apart as each boy inhaled fresh air.


He took a few ragged breaths to steady himself, shifting in his seat and went back to look at the reaction from Tweek.


Tweek was fully flushed, his cheeks were rosy, eyes dilated from their one kiss, his lips swollen on the bottom, redness being even more exaggerated by the spit Craig had slathered over. Tweek opened his mouth, most likely to berate Craig on the exact definition of what one kiss constituted as, but instead, a pathetic whine spilled out, needy and primal that drew an emotion to swirl in Craig’s blood. Tweek looked even more frazzled from the unexpected sound he made, his hands covering his face from embarrassment. Craig gently moved close enough that he could pluck the iron-steel grip Tweek had on his face, prying it apart to press a gentle kiss on his boyfriend’s forehead.


“Why are you suddenly feeling shy?” Craig murmured against his lover’s skin.


“Because-urk, you’re all smooth and shit. I-I’m not used to this.” Tweek rambled, “You make me feels things, now. New things and it’s confusing.”


“What type of things Tweek?” Craig pushed on, his hands grasping his partner’s as Tweek ducked down his head.


“Things, things…relating to…sex?” Tweek answered, with some confusion in his words, almost like he wasn’t exactly sure what fuelled the new raging emotions, “Like, I think about your height and it really makes me tingly inside and I want to be pushed against a wall as youhold me up and that type of shit--nng.”


It took a few seconds for the mental image to be painted into Craig’s mind, and he definitely was liking it.


“A wall huh.” There was the trace of a shit-eating grin ghosted on Craig’s lips, drawing irritated puffs from Tweek.


“A-shutup, okay, that’s the only saying I can remember that works in this situation,” Tweek complained lightly whacking Craig’s arm, “don’t be a dick to me.”


“I can give you dick.” Craig felt the words pass his lips quicker before his mental filter could catch it.


Tweek looked at his boyfriend with mild horror, “d-did you just make a ‘I’ll give you the D’ joke’ right now?”


Craig looked up, squinting into thought. “Huh, guess I did.”


“You’ve been hanging out too much with Clyde.” Tweek scoffed, but there was a lightness to his words, a smile being stretched out as the blond boy lounged back on his seat and Craig wanted to follow the pull from Tweek.


“Tweek.” Craig started to speak, capturing pale green eyes in rapt attention from the spoken name. “I don’t mind that you have sexual thoughts.”


“You-you don’t?” Tweek spluttered out, posture straightened up as he leaned forward suddenly, taking up space in-between that Craig was looking directly at his partner’s face. “you don’t mind at all?!”


“Nah.” Craig waved his hands, “If anything, it’s the same for me.” Upon Tweek’s confused expression, the black-haired boy explained, “I think your smaller size is…a turn-on for me.”


Tweek gaped, with garbles of noises squeaking out instead of coherent words, but Craig was already getting the hang of deciphering Tweek’s sounds. If he was correct, Tweek was expressing surprise and confusion. “I mean it. The fact that you’re smaller than me makes you even more attractive.”


“C-Craig…” Tweek twitched twice before he inhaled deeply, “do you—do you wanna do stuff with me?”


“What type of stuff?” Craig couldn’t help but tease.


“Oh fuck you, you know what I mean!” Tweek huffed out. “Stop trying to make me say it.”


“Sorry Babe, but you know that I found you adorable no matter what your expression is.”


Tweek inhaled once, closing his eyes as he took his breath. “Can I—nng, do sex-stuff with you?”




Tweek whacked Craig again. “Ass! You’re getting a kick out of this you sick fuck.”


Craig nudged his boyfriend up, and the taller boy patted his knee, “Hop on.” A lazy smirk was smudged on the raven-head and Tweek rolled his eyes but obeyed nevertheless.


“Stop looking so smug—ugh.” Tweek settled himself on Craig’s lap, his thighs straddling his partner, arms around the taller boy’s neck as Craig looked up and smiled.


“Nah, I have a cute boyfriend who wants to do sex-stuff with me, why would I be complaining.” The nasal sounding response tightened the grip around his neck.


“Shutup.” Tweek growled back, quickly leaning forward and pressed his angry-red looking lips against his lover.  


Craig kissed back with similar pressure, his hands wrapped around his boyfriend’s slender waist, flittering his fingers against the clothed torso with light digs into the material. Tweek seemed to be starving, ravenous and untamed. The blond boy poured his emotions into their lip-locking and Craig found the newfound passion surprising but not unwelcomed. Breathless murmurs exchanged between the both of them when they broke apart for air, only for a moment before they dove back in with a renewed sense every time. Craig could feel Tweek squirming on the former’s lap, the messy spit swap between them growing more heated as time passed. Tweek’s movements centred on his crotch and Craig wanted to shift from the pressure of his partner’s rear on the taller boy’s lap. The taller boy made a move, gripping Tweek’s hips and lifted him off for just a second.


Tweek fucking whined.


Craig widened his eyes instantly. That…that was definitely way more arousing in-person to hear. The noise escaped in a high-pitched plead and that went straight to Craig’s crotch, a burn that pooled in his stomach from the sound. Shit, that was probably one of the hottest things he had ever witnessed.


Tweek seemed to have just realized the noise he made, and he twitched violently, “AH! Fuck! Ididn’t mean—”


Craig smashed his mouth against his lover, almost clacking their teeth from the swiftness. “Never apologize for doing that. Fuck, if anything, keep going.” He said when they finally pulled apart.


“A-alright.” Tweek mumbled out as his lips were brushing against Craig’s. “Canwe got a little further than before?”


“How further?” Craig questioned.


Tweek squirmed again and fuck the pressure was starting to make Craig hard. “Honey, if you don’t sit still I’m going to pop a boner right now.”


Tweek bit his lips, “What would you say ifIwanted that tohappen?”


“Jesus Christ Tweek.” Craig all but moaned out, raising his hips so he could rub the bulging tent of his erection against Tweek’s ass. “You’re going to make me leak.”


“Like piss?” Tweek confusedly answered and Craig shook his head.


“Nah, I mean like cum.”


“O-o-oh.” Tweek stammered out and Craig cocked an eyebrow.


“Something wrong?”


“Nng—no, it’s just.” The red dash across the pale boy’s face seemed to glow with affection, “Can I touch you? Like your c—cock?”


Oh. Craig swallowed deeply, the way that Tweek’s breath hitched on the word cock as it tumbled out of his pretty mouth was a lot to take in. “Sure. Whatever, be my guest.” He replied aloofly on the outside.


Tweek nodded from Craig’s answer and one of his hands removed itself from Craig’s neck and trailed down, running over the taller boy’s jacket and rested on the zipper of the jeaned legs that Tweek was currently sitting on. Tweek unzipped it with nimble fingers, and out popped Craig’s hard-on. His rather large arousal that made Tweek raise his eyebrows when it appeared, unbounded by the tightness of Craig’s jeans.


Shit. Was that too much for Tweek? Craig felt a slimmer of embarrassment, just a little. Would Tweek even be interested in his horribly large dick?


Craig got his answer quickly when Tweek fumbled underneath the underpants and curled his hand around the hardening length and took it out of his cotton confinement. Craig hissed out a breath as he felt Tweek’s hand gently grasp his penis, sweeping through the black curls of his crotch and stroking the head that had become to ooze pre-cum. The contact between skin and flesh was starting to make his head dizzy, his breaths becoming more and more uneven with each pump of Tweek’s hand barely being able to wrap around his girth making him pant and shift.


“Shit, don’t stop.” Craig wheezed out, digging his fingernails into whatever skin he could find of Tweek’s, every dig making the shorter boy moan and tighten his grip and slide his hand down the shaft with shaky movements.


“I-I wont!” Tweek answered with complete sincerity.


“Babe, let me touch you.” Craig asked softly as Tweek nervously swallowed his saliva and nodded in acceptance. Reaching his hand into Tweek’s pants, Craig unbuttoned his boyfriend’s lower half and unravelled his partner’s dick, pressing it against his own. Tweek gasped from the sensation, and the sliding action of the two shafts was beginning to make Craig edge closer.


It was oddly erotic, the way that Tweek’s smaller length was firmly pressed against Craig’s much larger penis, the rubbing and spreading of cum as the only way to get smooth friction going as the two of them resumed their kissing, their hands occupied on their respective partner’s dicks.


“Fuck, I’m going to come.” Craig declared against Tweek’s throat, and the vibrations of the blond teen’s light laugh was the last stimulation that Craig needed to ejaculate. His load was spent on Tweek’s penis and splattered on the latter’s shirt and droplets landed on his boyfriend’s pants, the liquid getting soaked into the dark material. God-fuck that was a lot of cum. Tweek let out a squeak and Craig could feel his partner shake once before Tweek gasped and came himself.


The weight of his boyfriend slumping over him was unexpected and Craig muffled a laugh. They just came into their pants like some horny teenagers.


On second thought, they kinda were horny teenagers.

Chapter Text

Tweek stared intensely at his phone screen, his fingers hovering over the touchpad. Twitching with every nervous thought passing through his brain as he re-typed the news that he had promised the girls.


‘Craig touched my dick, and I touched his.’ No, no, no! That was too crude.


‘Craig came a lot on me.’ Ahh! That was also much too personal.


[Tweek]: I went to Second Base


There. That was simple enough and just as informative.


He tapped the send button and waited for the bubble to be read into the group chat. Looking up for a second, Tweek eyeballed his ceiling, just looking blankly up. The phone in his hands buzzed with vigour like a hissing snake and Tweek yelped before he fumbled with the controls and opened the chat.


[Wendy the Wise]: Tweek! You go-getter! Congratulations!!


[Red the Queen]: look at you, getting to second base already ;3


[Bebe the Goddess]: TWEEK U HOE, I’M PROUD OF U!!!


[Lola of Liberty]: niceeeeee


[Nichole Protector of Dreams]: Oh wow already?


[Heidi Smart and Funny]: the kids just grow up so quickly *teary face*


[Tweek]: that was so fast! Are you guys always on your phones??


[Wendy the Wise]: Yes


[Bebe the Goddess]: pretty much tbh


[Heidi Smart and Funny]: …maybe…probably….look, its social media okay. Everyone is on it these days


[Lola of Liberty]: nooooo….? (I joke, yes)


[Red the Queen]: ^^^


Tweek sighed, watching as the text bubbles rapidly popped up as each girl put their two-cents into the conversation. Gently scrapping his hand along his scalp, he blew out a breath with some embarrassment until he picked up his courage.


[Tweek]: can I ask a question/favor???????????


[Wendy the Wise]: Shoot


[Bebe the Goddess]: yaass boi what does your slutty self need?


[Red the Queen]: omg chill bebe plz


[Bebe the Goddess]: no wayyy, tweek is it a sex question??


[Tweek]: …yeah


[Heidi Smart and Funny]: lol guess Bebe was right


[Nichole Protector of Dreams]: What’s on your mind Tweek?


[Lola of Liberty]: don’t hold back ;D


[Tweek]: I want to make Craig look at me…like really really look at me


[Wendy the Wise]: Oh


[Heidi Smart and Funny]: you’re so precious omg Tweek


[Bebe the Goddess]: YES HELLO I AM HERE 4 U BABY TWEEK


[Bebe the Goddess]: U WANT CRAIG TO THIRST UR ASS??


[Red the Queen]: oh gosh, bebe has been unleashed




[Nichole Protector of Dreams]: Already getting into roleplay? That’s fast


{Red the Queen]: ^^^ but not bad, just means Tweek knows what his mind wants ;)))


[Wendy the Wise]: And that, Girls, is what we call a man with goal. To tease the Hell out of his boyfriend. We all very much approve don’t we ladies?


[Red the Queen]: Oooh, is Tweek going to be a cheeky tease?


[Nichole Protector of Dreams]: Craig is one unfortunate/lucky guy


[Wendy the Wise]: Why not both?


[Bebe the Goddess]: tweeky u gotta blueball the fuck out of craig


[Heidi Smart and Funny]: I’m leaning towards unlucky at this point. You can look but you can’t touch


[Wendy the Wise]: Sexy


[Tweek]: AHHHHH what’s happening now abhhfhjfdjnsgn


[Lola of Liberty]: this sounds like a group meeting waiting to happen


[Wendy the Wise]: So why don’t we organize one?






Back in the Lion’s Den, was the morbid thought that strayed from Tweek’s mind. It was as asininely pink as he remembered, and equally as squished. Still, the most prominent change was how all the girls grinned at him, Chesire Cat smiles pulled at the ends with knowing smirks and nods.


“So.” Wendy cleared her throat. “I think everyone knows why we’re gathered here today.”


“Tweek wants to get dre-ss-ed up for his boyfriend.” Bebe cooed, giggling with excitement as she bounced on her seat.


“And everyone is here to provide moral support and advice.” Lola injected, snuggling into her seat as all the girls sat around on anything smooth to hold their legs up from the floor.


Red took out the clothes, shoving the rustling plastic bag into Tweek’s outstretched hands, “Come on! Try the outfit.”


“Augh! Okayokay.” Tweek replied, huddling the bag close to his chest and slammed the bathroom behind him as he dumped out the contents of the bag.


Jesus. Did the girls really expect him to wear this???? And fit into it as well??


He gingerly took off his clothes, unbuttoning his shirt and watched it flutter to the ground. He shimmied out off his pants, and as the soft material fell to his toes he felt vulnerable yet also similarly intrigued. Pulling up the skirt as it fit snugly around his waist and the tight top that the Cheerleader squad wore, Tweek felt funny wearing women’s clothes. He had his boxers on and it peeped out from the short length of the skirt. He opened the door and troded back into the room.


“W-well, how’s this?”


Bebe whistled as the other girls gave varying compliments ranging from thumbs-ups to catcalls. Wendy, however, had a thoughtful pose.


“It looks nice on you Tweek, but it doesn’t look you.” Wendy commented with a curious expression on her face. “Don’t take it badly, but I don’t think Craig would be interested in the Cheerleader outfits in the first place.”


“Aw man, Wendy is right.” Bebe pouted, “Cheerleaders are hot, don’t get me wrong, but maybe not your style.”


Tweek visibly deflated, his shoulders dropping and a grimace marring his face, “Nnng—I knew it. There’s no way I could be sexy.”


“Tweek, no! Don’t say that.” Heidi jumped in, “You’re attractive in your own way. You just need the right clothes to bring it out.”


“Maybe you need something tighter.” Nichole remarked, her head in deep thought, “Instead of the skirt, try shorts instead?”


“Oh yeah, that could work. And the top could be a bit higher on the neck but still short for the hem.” Red added on.


“Success! I think I know what you need Tweek. Lola give me a hand will ya?” Bebe suddenly jumped up and ran to her closet, rummaging around.


Lola lifted herself up, traipsing to Bebe’s side as the blonde dug into her closet, throwing garments in a hurricane made up of fashion as Lola caught the mess being thrown. Shirts, skirts, sweats, shorts and singlets fell out, as the girls sighed and spieled on what Bebe was planning.


“Aha! Got it.” The blonde girl cried as she held two pieces of clothing up like in victory. “Try these ones Tweek.”


“Okay, I’ll try.” He remarked, looking dubiously at the new articles of clothing. Grabbing them and returning back to the bathroom, Tweek slipped off the skirt, and slid on the new deep navy shorts, feeling his legs be just as exposed, if not even further from just how form-fitting the bottom wear was, covering just across his globes. The top half was not better, it was sleeveless green color and while the collar was higher up and resting on his collarbones, the hem of it ended up before his belly-button.


Bebe had given him a mother-fucking-crop top.


It was worse this time, because now, he actually felt…sultry. Having his skin be exposed in this manner was unknown to him. He tiptoed but into the room and the girls fell silent when he arrived.


“Is it that bad?? Oh Jesus, I knew thiswas a bad idea!” Tweek commented in shame, look anxiously around the room to see the dumbfounded expressions on each girl’s face.


“Holy shit Tweek, Craig is going to drool.” Babe gaped at him, clapping her hands in enthusiasm.


“Tweek, go and work it!” Heidi gushed.


“Boners for days.” Lola smirked out.


“I don’t think your clothes will stay on for very long.” Red singsonged.


“You’re a bombshell blond, never let anyone say otherwise.” Nichole encouraged.


“Now, now. It’ll be a shame if Tweek didn’t squeeze every last potential from this outfit. Keep the allure going for as long as you can.” Wendy mischievously remarked. “I would strongly advise you Tweek, to tease the fuck out of Craig for as long as you can. Get him hot and bothered without any release so you can reap the benefits.”


“Gah! How the fuck do I do that??” Tweek asked wildly.


Wendy’s smile grew even wider. “Simple. Sexting.”


“Sexting?” Tweek parroted.


“Sending naughty pics over the phone to your partner.” Bebe explained with an equally wide grin. “Pose yourself, snap some dirty pics and get your partner aroused enough. It’s great, you should try it.”


“Okay, I’ll take one for the girl team and ask what everyone is thinking.” Lola interrupts. “Real-talk, how big is Craig?”


The girls screech at Lola’s question and Tweek was flabbergasted and how quickly the topic jumps.


“U-um!” Tweek shrugs and brings his arms up, “Like, that big or something?”


There’s dead silence for a half-a-minute and he sweats a little from blank everyone’s faces are.


“Oh. Tweeky. Craig is going to split you into two.” Bebe answers with a hand pressed against her bosom in an almost motherly tone.


“WHAT?” Tweek yells out just as the other girls cat-call and crackle in amusement.


“I hope you’re a Size Queen,” Wendy starts, “because Craig is going to be having a fun time trying to fit himself,” Wendy waves her hand in a similar measurement to Tweek’s, “inside you.” She gestures to his slender form.


“Size Queen?” Tweek repeats with confusion.


“Oh Tweek. We have a lot to learn today.” Bebe flashes a smile and Tweek gulps.


He had a bad feeling about this.





He was totally right. There was a lot of information he learnt. A little too much if he was being honest, but better to overstock than understock right?


Not that sexual information was in the same category of ingredients like his family’s coffeehouse but semantics.


Still, he takes a deep breath as he fumbles with setting up his bed for his digital photoshoot. Or, in simpler terms, his first attempt at sexting. Propping up the pillows up against his head as he lays down on his bed, Tweek wiggles until he’s comfortable. He’s wearing the outfit the girl’s shoved into his hands after the information talk finished, much to his dismay as Bebe had heartily said he could keep it.


‘So feel free to get messy as much as you want, you spoiled slut.’ She had winked at him as he left her house with red blazing on his cheeks and embarrassment slipping down his throat.


He snaps a quick picture – just of his face looking at the camera, with a hand-drawn heart scribbled on - and captions it with an innocent ‘Thinking of you : )’ that gets read not even a minute after it’s sent.


[Craig <3]: Me too, Babe. Always


Okay, he could do this. Just escalate the situation a little more quickly. Tweek snuck his hand into the tight shorts, forgoing underwear because it seemed too bulky with it on. The difference in temperature from his shorts and his room made him shiver as he gripped his soft dick, giving a few fast strokes – with the memories of Craig touching his shaft pushing him on – and seeing his erection harden with a dusty red on his tip.


Okay this would do. He pushed his arousal back into his shorts, leaving just the tip of his penis peeping out from the confines, pressing against his stomach. His phone went further away until he could squeeze in the view he wanted, while he bunched the hem of his shirt up and placed the fabric into his mouth to reveal his smooth chest as he widened his thighs were spread apart and his rear was being shown from the perspective of the phone.


This photo got a ‘not as much as I am’ caption.


He clicks send faster than his brain can second-guess his decision and he freaks out a little when he sees the bar of it being uploaded occur.


Be cool, all he was doing was sending a seductive picture. No biggie.


The Read indicator popped up a few seconds after the photo was successfully uploaded and Tweek hyperventilated as he waited for Craig’s response.


[Craig <3]: holy fuck tweek


[Craig <3]: give a man warning before you blow his mind


[Tweekers <3]: i could be blowing something else ;)


[Craig <3]: Tweek…I’m not complaining but what’s going on?


Time to bring out the big guns (at least according to what the girls suggested).


Opening up his mouth and waiting for enough saliva to accumulate for the right amount of shine and sticking his thumb and index into his wet cavern. Tweek uses his unoccupied hand to take the picture, angling it so it looks as lewd as it can be, deleting several pictures in the process until he can get a photo just right.


[Tweekers <3]: my throats aching for your cock Craig


He makes a fucking mess, with spit dripping from his left hand, but he moves nevertheless to execute Stage Two of the Plan the girls introduced him to.


His wet hand moves to bunch at his erection, his shorts falling down a little as he wiggles so he can start thrusting his hand, propping up the pillow under his knees as he angles the phone up. He makes his best pouting face, his eyes widened and lips wobbling with anticipation just as he bashfully looks into the camera. All while rubbing his shaft.


[Tweekers <3]: look how wet I am for you. Why couldn’t you be here with me : (


Send. The picture goes through and Tweek collapses back to his bed, trembling with suspense. His phone rings and that startles him that he yelps from the action, fumbling with the phone and he accidentally tries to pick it up with his spit-covered hand with little success.


“Wah, why areyou calling me now?” Tweek breathlessly answers when he finally manages to click the accept button.


There’s silence on the other end, and Tweek moves to look at his screen just to check the call wasn’t ended prematurely. All the buttons for the call still are lit on the screen and Tweek frowns as he presses it back to his ear.


There’s a low groan, deep and guttural from the other side of the line, that shoots a spark inside Tweek, curling inside him with giddiness and excitement.


“Tweek, fucking-Christ, what are you doing?” Craig’s voice is strained, nothing like his usual monotone smooth tone.


“Touching myself to the thought of you opening me up.” Is Tweek’s nonchalant answer (well actually it was more about just their last make-out session and more particularly on how much Craig managed to come onto him, but his boyfriend was none the wiser).


“Babe,” Craig hitches a breath over the phone and Tweek feels a rush of liquid warmth fill his insides from how wrecked his lover sounds, “I have extended family over right now.”




“So.” The reply is gritted out with difficulty as Craig rasps out, “It’s not fucking polite to jack off while your blood relatives are in the room below.”


Tweek’s lips coil into a smile, so blinding and skittish (not that Craig could see at this moment of time), but perhaps the tone comes through, “I see. That’s unfortunate isn’t’ it?”


Time for another picture. This time it’s a close-up of his bottom, his shorts are pulled up this time but the material strains across his erection and his finger slides across the end of the pants and flicks out just a tad.


‘For later’ the caption says.


“Fuck you.” Craig curses but Tweek doesn’t take it negatively at all. Instead, it makes him dizzy with power as he giggles and he hears how Craig knocks his fist on something wooden in the background. Poor door.


“Enjoy yourself Craig.” Tweek remarks and the last thing he hears is Craig’s affectionate expletives.


 Holy shit the girls were right. Sexting was great.






He might have been a minx over the phone, but in all honesty, Tweek hadn’t the faintest idea of how to even begin to perform a blowjob. Practice makes perfect, but it wasn’t like he had Craig’s dick in front of him to practice is non-existent skill on.


So, the next best thing was being used. He scurried through the kitchen until he found the bunch of fresh bananas and took the biggest one as a replacement of Craig’s penis (although privately he thinks that his boyfriend’s dick is a smidge longer than the fruit and thicker to boot).


He carefully unpeels the fruit and stares at it straight on. There’s no one at home and the windows are pulled down so the outside world won’t get an eyeful of his embarrassing attempt to shove a banana into his mouth like some kind of whore.


He presses the tip to his mouth and swallows the first inch, holding back from instinctually biting down – because he definitely is sure Craig would not appreciate that – and pushes slowly deeper in his warm mouth. His mind races back to what he girls taught him about oral sex, and the articles with horrendous titles that they linked him to, about hitting a certain part where the throat no longer could take the intrusion. He’s focusing so much on trying to remember the steps of what he should do, he doesn’t realize that his hand suddenly bumps to his chin.


His eyes boggle and he frantically looks down to see the near entire length of the banana being swallowed up, and he feels the weight of it in his mouth but it’s fine, nothing like the gagging experience the girls warned him about.


He moves back, and lets the banana get pulled out, the white skin being covered by his glistening spit. The heat in his cheeks is scorching and he can’t help but think this new discovery will come handy in the future.


He was leaning towards Craig being a lucky guy. 

Chapter Text

Craig Tucker was fucked. And not in the good fucked way either, like feeling content after messing around.

No. What he was, was bad fucked. With Tweek’s teasing methods of sending risqué photos while his Grandmother was in the room below. Tweek in his crop-top and short shorts and looking like a kicked-puppy when Craig apparently wasn’t in the same room when the outfit was being worn. Tweek with his hard-on peeking from his pants all while bitting his bottom lip and pleading to be cummed on.

Fucking Tweek looking adorable and downright sinful at the same time was doing horrible things to his blood pressure. And his door.

God, his poor door. If he squinted, he could see the tiny dents made on the material by his fingernails scrapping on and he definitely remembered the lingering pain concentrated on his hand when he slammed against it when he saw the pictures.

The pictures and the accompanying text was a combo breaker, but the sheer fact that Tweek was being a minx and lapping up his frustration was…


Was a real turn-on if he was completely honest.


Which was even worse! Since now, not only did he have image stimulus to use but also Tweek’s blasé mentality for Craig’s need to, in the most eloquent of words, bust a nut.


Tweek was such a fucking tease.


It only got worse as the days went past. Craig picked up a few extra shifts for work at the Garage just so he could cover future expenses and get the last payments for his desired telescope.


That meant he couldn’t see his boyfriend bar the moments shared during school – and he wasn’t that desperate to get off in the school bathroom. Tweek had been stolen from him as well in the afternoon shifts ramping up at the Coffeehouse which irritated Craig because he knew for a fact that Tweek didn’t get as many breaks as he should have. At least the guys at the Garage understood the importance of break time.


Although, there was also the fact Tweek was sexting him like crazy. If it wasn’t candid thoughts about ‘I wonder if we could get a quickie in the back room without anyone knowing?’ or things like ‘Wearing these new shorts are fun! I don’t have to worry about the gnomes stealing my underpants’. Whatever that meant.

The images varied. Sometimes it’ll be innocent selfies with nice coffee artwork and pastries with digital hand-drawn symbols of love-hearts and cute things. Other times, well.

The photos were definitely not safe for work, of Tweek shoving his hand down his pants, or close-ups of his rear in different outfits, a pair of red hot pants seemed to have been magically added to Tweek’s wardrobe, with almost gleeful captions of his boyfriend flaunting them at home in the privacy of his bedroom.

A prominent outfit seemed to be a black crop-top that had the insignia of an alien symbol with the words ‘Beware of the Humans’ written across it, coupled with an absolute sinful pair of denim shorts cupping Tweek’s ass. There had been a fair few photos of Tweek with his thighs spread and his head squashed into his arms with a flirty grin on his face. Half the time, Craig managed to see the risqué photos during his break time, and it had become so bad that he had to do a cursory glance side by side every time Tweek sent him an image. 

He was half-sure that Tweek timed these particular pictures for maximum embarrassment. That fucker.


Of course, it meant that he had no end to the amount of fap material he could use. At this point, he could have his pick depending on the mood of what he was interested and in the mood for. Still, it wasn’t as fulfilling coming into his hand when he had a boyfriend who would look much better being streaked by his seed.


One who was probably getting-off to Craig not being able to jack off properly?  


God, what was his life now.





Craig took one look at the other person sitting on the bench lifting weights and he had a sudden urge to turn back. But, that would be almost like running away, and Craig was not a quitter.






Craig frowned as Stan gave one glance to his presence before returning back to his lifting. What a jock-move it was, but Craig would be hard pressed to say he wasn’t a little jealous. Every time the weight closed in near Stan’s sweaty torso, the arm muscles rippled a little, and Craig watched how effortlessly the other boy continued his workout. The jealous bit was concerning how Stan seemed to breeze through the arm exercises while Craig had barely enough upper arm strength to compete.


Tweek did say he wanted to be hoisted up and pressed against a wall, and there was no way Craig could do that in his current state. He was lean yes, but not strong enough to lift a teenage boy up for enough time for any fun stuff to happen. Unless Tweek was expecting to be dropped which would honestly kill any sexy vibes.


Trying to look nonchalant, Craig walked over and looked at the weight choices in front of him, picking up medium-sized dumbbells for each hand and tried not to react as his arms were instantly pulled downwards to the ground. God, he was bad at this. He started lifting them up and he could hear Stan snort in the background.


“What the fuck is funny?” Craig retorted, and if he wasn’t currently carrying a dumbbell in each hand he would’ve flipped off the other raven-haired boy.


“Nothing Tucker,” Stan mirthlessly replied, “Just that I wasn’t expecting you to be here. Can you even afford the membership to get in?”


“It’s Token’s. I’ve just borrowed his card.” Craig shrugged, watching as Stan frowned.


“How did you even…?” Stan trailed off before shaking his head, “Fine. That totally makes sense. I just never imagined you the type of the guy to care about gains.”


‘What like your jock-asshat would ever think about?’ Was Craig’s snarky reply in his head.  


“Sorry. I want to improve myself for my boyfriend.” He sneered, “Oh wait, you got dumped publically by Wendy so all you have to prove is that your dick is good enough for Broflovski.”


“Don’t speak about Kyle like that.” Stan growled out, the dumbbell being held stationary in his hand.


“What, I said nothing about you trying to get your dick wet for your best friend.” Craig whistled innocently.


“Shut it Tucker.” Stan gritted out as his knuckles tightened on the exercise equipment. “Kyle and I are none of your business.”


“Oh what, you’re not man enough for feelings Marsh? Think falling in love with your best friend is going to break the years of closeness between you two?” Craig egged on, with little filter.


“Fuck off Tucker! You don’t know shit.” Stan spat out in anger, dropping the dumbbell unceremoniously onto the ground, hearing it thud onto the linen floor. 


“Oh, did I touch a nerve?” Craig rattled back, as eager to keep pressing on Stan’s anger in some sick fascination of unleashing his frustrations.


“Just because you can’t get your dick sucked doesn’t mean you should project your problems onto other people.“ Stan snarled back. He mumbled under his breath, “Spaz-fucker.”


Craig was close to yelling back ‘Go and suck mine’ but really, the only person he wanted to put his penis in was giving him the worst blueballs in his life.


So much for working on his upper body strength today.




He was in a bad mood. That was something he was sure of. He had an unruly customer who wanted changes as the fixes were half-way done, meaning that Craig had to stop in the middle of unscrewing and do what the customer wanted, even if the half-an-hour quick check-up turned into a gruelling four-hour fix.


So yes, he was in a bitchy-mood. He had sweated profusely because no air-conditioning had been implanted in the area he worked in, and he was covered in grease and his grossly unwashed body was making him itch. But even after all of this, the part that ached the most was his heart that had been deprived of seeing Tweek after a long day.


He plucked the spare key from under the door-mat of Tweek’s house that he knew the Tweaks kept for emergency purposes (Hint: making sure that they didn’t have to be bugged if Tweek lost his keys) and jammed it in, hearing the resounding click as he walked in and nudged the door closed.


“Tweek I’m here.” He yelled into the house but heard no response, which meant there was a good chance his boyfriend was in his room with the door closed to any outside noise.


He stomped on the stairs as he walked up, making sure his boyfriend could hear that there was another presence in the house to avoid him freaking about a home intruder. He gingerly opened the door, expecting nothing out of the ordinary as he wiped his grimy forehead with a hand and walked into the room.


Tweek had his fucking crop-top and shorts ensemble on, with his legs spread and the phone in his hand, aiming at his exposed stomach. That little shit.


“What do you think you’re doing?” Craig nasally asked and Tweek screamed, throwing down his phone and whipped his head around.


“ACK! C-Craig! You’re home! I mean, you’re at my home.” Tweek fumbled out as he dug his knees into the pillow underneath him.


“I’m back.” Craig rumbled with a domestic emotion stirring inside him. “I’m exhausted.” He flopped onto the bed, grime and all.


“Gah, dude. You’re gross.” Tweek scrunched up his nose in disgust. “Why haven’t you washed yet.”


“Because I wanted to see you as soon as possible.” Craig answered, gathering himself so he plop his head onto Tweek’s lap.


Tweek sighed but ran his hands through Craig’s matted hair as the chullo was laying on the bedsheets in a mess of wool. Craig snugged himself into Tweek’s plush thighs and closed his eyes as his lover threaded his fingers through his greasy locks.


“So what’s with the new outfits?”


Tweek squeaked, and stopped in his actions, and stammered a piss-poor excuse. “It’s still warm, so I was trying them out.”


“Ahuh.” Craig retorted not eating the excuse at all. “Because something tells me that there’s a deeper reason since you like to send me naughty pictures at the worst of times.”


“I-I am?” Tweek innocently said and Craig had to restrain a groan. Pushing himself up from his human-pillow, Craig clacked his tongue and turned to face his boyfriend with mild amusement.


“Don’t pull this shit here you dirty flirt.” He commented, tapping his finger on his partner’s cheek. “Tell me the real reason you keep trying to make me hard in public.”


“I’mnot doing anything wrong.” Tweek replied with complete honesty in his voice as he battered his eyelashes.


Fuck, when did his boyfriend get so good at acting?


“No,” Craig growled out, punctuating every word with a harder poke, “You. Are. A. Fucking. Tease.”


“What are yougoing to do about it Craig?” Tweek smirked and God. The made something snap in him, an emotion circulating with primal competition get unleashed.


“This.” He uttered. Pushing his partner down, he watched how Tweek widened his eyes and let out a confused noise sending something possessive stirring in him. He pinned his boyfriend’s arms above his head, watching as Tweek writhed from the pressure, whining and complaining about the new position. “Shush,” Craig admonished, “good boys shouldn’t complain when they get punished.”


“Nnng-what the fuck Craig?” Tweek spat out as Craig tightened his left hand against the blond’s slender wrists.


“Shut up and let me kiss you, you nerd.”


Tweek mumbled out a “Calling me a nerd, says the dork,” before Craig mashed their lips together. Craig could taste the smattering of sweat upon his lips as Tweek hungrily consumed every push of the taller boy’s tongue, their mouths pressed against each other like it hurt to be pulled away, even as gasping breaths had to be made for fresh air to both boys.


Tweek shifted himself, grounding his hips against Craig’s pants and the raven-head muffled a moan in Tweek’s mouth. Those Goddamn shorts were driving him crazy, as Tweek bent his knees to cross his legs around Craig’s torso, the latter could feel the warmth of Tweek’s bare skin against his white shirt splattered with grease stains. Tweek mumbled under his breath, pressing his body against Craig as the two of them groping each other with feverish desire, grinding and pinching their skin against each other in a fury of limbs sprayed everywhere.


“You’ve been a real bitch with these clothes,” Craig groaned out as he nipped Tweek’s neck with biting remarks, “flaunting your ass like a whore to me. Can you even keep your legs closed, tell me Tweekers?”


“F-fuck you, you can’t tell me what I can and can’t wear.” Tweek growled out, wiggling in his bounds and the movement made Craig hiss from the pressure on his hardening bulge.


“Of course I won’t, but I don’t like the idea of other people seeing you like this.” Craig spoke in a hushed whisper across Tweek’s skin.


“A little too late there.” Tweek mumbled out.


Craig narrowed his eyes, “What do you mean by that?”


“Ugh, I-mean, the girls were the ones who taught me how to dress.” Tweek retorted back with some hesitation. “I asked themforadviceand they gave me the outfits.”


Craig sighed, “I both hate them and I am grateful at the same time.”


“You’refull of contradictions aren’t you Craig Tucker?” Tweek grinned back and Craig responded by sucking a deeper mark on his boyfriend’s neck, just above the collar of the crop-top.


“And you’re full of sass.” Craig murmured back.


“You like my sass.” Tweek hummed contently, as Craig twiddled with the hem of the shirt, inching higher and higher until the blond boy’s nips were starting to be exposed.


“I also like your ass more.” Craig spoke with hot breath dancing across Tweek’s chest, as the taller boy’s hand started squeezing his partner’s rear in bursts of heavy pressure.  


“Craig! Nnng, watch where your hand is do-“


Craig took one nub into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the perky nipple and Tweek cried out in surprise, his pale green eyes glazed from Craig’s mouth. A gleeful smirk was coiling upon Craig’s lips as he popped off his mouth from the nipple and latched onto the other one, treating it with equal vigour and spit spread across the areola. Tweek squirmed from the sensation, panting and pushing his pelvis against Craig with desperation.


Craigggg…” The name was imbued with a whine, as Tweek sobbed from Craig’s rougher actions of pinching the hardening nubs and the latter took the crop-top and pressed the hem against the blond’s lips.


“Bite it.”


Tweek took one look at the hem, willingly opened his mouth and the material was stuffed in his mouth. Spit drenched the cotton and yet Tweek had a defiance look in his eyes. Not for long if Craig could help it. He propped Tweek’s legs that had been wrapped around his torso up to his shoulders as Tweek made a muffled noise through his cotton gag from the shifting position. A squeak of sorts, as his hands were pressed behind him as Craig handled his boyfriend’s weight by balancing him against the headboard, with Tweek hovering over him looking confused yet still excited if the glaze in his eyes was an indicator.


Fumbling with his free hand, Craig shoved into Tweek’s shorts and pulled out his partner’s erection. He already saw it countless times, just a tease in the photos and their last make-out session as they pressed themselves against each other. But even without the comparison, Craig felt like the length was still going to make a mouthful. Opening up, Craig smoothly swallowed Tweek’s dick, listening to how Tweek made a muted yell from the action. It wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be, he didn’t want to press too further just in-case he activated his gag reflex, but he made sure to slide his tongue across the frenulum and the action made Tweek sob, suppressed hicks as the shorter boy jerked from Craig’s tongue. He repeated it a few times, and he could feel how Tweek’s legs shook with every lick, vibrating across his shoulders.


Hallowing his cheeks and sucking on his partner’s penis was a new experience, with the taste of hot salty flesh in his mouth nothing like he ever had before, but it wasn’t bad. Not if it was accompanied by Tweek looking teary and graciously ruined, with red bloomed in his cheeks and spots of shinning tears from the overstimulation of Craig’s mouth.


“Mmpfff.” The sounds from Tweek’s lips were too distorted and Craig felt it was a waste, so he pulled the shirt out. “Pah! Yo-you..ugh…”


“Me what?” As Craig pulled off the dick he was lavishing, his voice a little hoarser than usual, yet just as deadpan as ever.


“Ack, stop trying to suck outallmy thoughts,” Tweek mumbled back, breathing heavily, “I feel like I’mgoing to collapse.”


“Hey I’m holding you up now.”


Tweek rolled his eyes, “Yes and I’mvery thankful for that. Oooh, Craig you’re so big and strong…”


Two could play at that game. Dropping Tweek back onto the bed made the smaller boy screech from the action, and Craig pounced. Tweek had his arms holding onto Craig’s nape as the taller boy had quickly unzipped his jeans, pulling out his interested dick and slathering his wet tip against Tweek’s thighs, just a shy of the opened up shorts. Thrusting into the enveloping heat of Tweek’s legs that his boyfriend made was highly arousing and Craig panted.


Tweek bounced with every push, the slapping sounds of tantalizing skin against skin echoed in the silent room, punctuated with heavy pants and low groans of pleasure from both parties. Just the imagery of his large cock rubbing against his partner’s milky skin was a lot to take in and Craig squeezed his eyes shut, as he nipped Tweek’s chest, scraping his teeth against the unblemished skin and sinking his teeth across his boyfriend’s shoulders. Leaving bites in red blotchy dents all across Tweek’s exposed skin, hearing how his lover babbled and mewled with each imprint was only fuel to his arousal.


“Ugh! Fuck, Craig, I’m-I’m so, so. Close. Please, please.” Tweek pleaded with a whimper wobbling on his lips and Craig couldn’t deny when his pretty boyfriend was asking so nicely.


“Of course Babe.” Craig whispered back and he squeezed his hand around Tweek’s erection and the shorter boy nearly screamed from the simultaneous actions of Craig’s mouth across the blond’s chest, a hand wrapped around his dick and his lover’s cock thrusting against Tweek’s thighs. He came, spurting into Craig’s hands, and Tweek rode the high from his orgasm. Craig felt his hit and he groaned once before he ejaculated all over Tweek, just ropes of warm cum splattering on Tweek: his face, his shirt, his stomach, his shorts and dribbles of it covering his shaking thighs. 


As Craig looked through bleary eyes, the sight before him was honestly picture worthy. Tweek looked roughly fucked out, as a sheen of sweat covered his face, cheeks red and droplets of cum dotting his chin as a parted mouth greedily gulped oxygen like he had been deprived of it. Countless marks had been scattered across his neck, his shoulders and his chest had blooming smudges of red and circular bite marks as teeth dug into the soft flesh in no particular order or pattern. Tweek looked like he had been ravaged by an animal, torn apart and put back together in the same breath.


“God, you’re beautiful.” Craig couldn’t stop the words if he tried and Tweek perked his head up from the confession. Turning even more red-faced if possible, the tips of his ears steaming as he bashfully squirmed avoiding Craig’s heavy gaze. The taller boy let the dopey smile take over his face.


He was absolutely smitten for Tweek.

Chapter Text

Tweek was happy to write his answers for the next lessons A.P U.S History homework in peace. The teacher had directed the class to break into groups and dedicate their time in productivity without her actually teaching the class (something that he was thankful for because it was easier for him to learn without the constriction of whatever the teacher’s name was). He was jotting down his responses with a leaking ball-point pen when someone plopped into the seat ahead of him and slammed their hands down onto his desk.


He screamed from the sudden thud and his eyes frantically scanned up to meet furious-looking viridian eyes, scorching in their intensity. The Ushaka-wearing teen glared at him with a haughty aura and Tweek fiddled with the pen in his hands. Oh, the blue ink was staining his fingertips and he hastily wiped it on the desk, only to frown as it stuck to his fingers like blue spidery stains over his skin.


“What the fuck have you been talking to Craig about Stan and I?”


Tweek returned Kyle’s glare with a curious stare, “Huh?”


“What. Have. You. Been. Talking. To. Craig. About. Stan. And. I” Kyle gritted out in irritation.


“Nothing?” Tweek answered honestly.


“Bull-shit.” The expletive flew out in a fiery spit. “I know it was probably you that got Craig to say something to Stan.”


Tweek frowned. “What? Ididnothing! Why are you accusing me of something Ididn’t do?”


The pissed-off teen pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance. “Look, whatever you made Craig to get on Stan’s nerves, I don’t care. Just tell your boyfriend to back off.”


Tweek scrunched his hands into his hair, his ink-stained fingers sweeping his curls, tinting his yellow hair with tiny blots of blue. “I did nothing! And I don’tunderstand what’s happening between you and Stan.”


“There is nothing funny happening between Stan and I.” Kyle venomously spat out, his voice rising in pitch and loudness. “There’s nothing gay between us!”


“Kyle! What about the term indoor voice do you not understand?” The teacher screeched from the surly teen’s rant, “Shut up and get back to doing your work.”


The outburst gathered attention from curious bystanders who whipped their heads to peer at the sparks crackling between Tweek and Kyle.


If it was even possible, Kyle’s stare grew more poisonous. “I’m not gay for Stan.” He hissed as soon as people turned their heads back to their work, bored from the brooding silence entrenched between them. “I’m not gay.” The words were whispered with such misplaced convictions Tweek wasn’t sure if Kyle was trying to reassure Tweek or himself.


“Look.” Tweek hastily glanced from side to side, “It’s okay if you like boys and girls, gah. There’s nothing wrong with liking both.”


Please don’t tell me I’m getting lectured by you?” Kyle sneered.  


“No? I-I’m just trying to be supportive, um.” Tweek shrugged. “I think you’re toohard-eugh, on yourself. Just take it naturally. Whatever works for you man.”


Kyle pressed his lips together into a thin line, his forehead creased. Tweek could read there was a storm brewing in Kyle’s brain, erratic and torn.


“Enough bitching Kyle. What are you? A girl PMSing?” Wendy injected as she appeared next to Tweek.


“Knock off Wendy.” Kyle growled out, rubbing his hand against his sleeve.


“Time-Out Kyle, shoo. Go back to your desk.” Wendy waved as Kyle sighed and reluctantly got up. But not before miming a cutting motion with his finger along his neck and Tweek squeaked in surprise.


“Oh God! Kyle is going to murder me!” Tweek frantically cried out.


Wendy rolled her eyes. “Don’t take Kyle’s tantrum seriously, he’s just insecure about his big-ole gay crush on Stan and is taking it out on you.” 


“Eugh! Why would he do that?” Tweek asked in confusion.


Wendy looked at Tweek, a duh tone dripping in her words, “He’s insecure obviously. Since both Craig and you are out and happy, he’s stewing in his moodiness.”


Huh, that was an interesting point. Tweek kept it in the back of his mind, letting it fester as he returned to face his desk. Wendy whistled.


“Also, update us about the latest news in the Tweek-Sexcapdes.”


“W-Wendy! Shush!”






School finished, and Craig was there to greet him. Pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead, a content rumble as his taller boyfriend wrapped his arms around him. “How was class?”


How was class?


“Kyle bitched at me?” Tweek blurted out.


“Why did you frame it like a question?” Craig frowned.


“Um. Because I’m not sure what happened. Somethingabout Kyle and Stan being not gay for each other?”


Craig snorted. “Stan and Kyle are nearly as gay as us.” Craig deadpanned, “and we’re really Homo.”


“That’s gay.” Tweek laughed back, as Craig tickled him in in response. Tweek huffed with giggles escaping his mouth as the raven-head pressed his fingers across Tweek’s ribs and underarms and Tweek wiggled in the firm hold Craig had wrapped around him like an octopus. For a while, he couldn’t stop giggling as his lover gave no break for him to take a proper breath. He squabbled and Craig smiled and tickled until Tweek accidentally jabbed his elbow into his boyfriend’s stomach, knocking the wind out of Craig which gathered a worried reaction as Tweek fretted over the accident. His wounded boyfriend waved off the apology, a winded-grin seemingly plastered on his face.


“Hey, I have to go early today, but I’ll text you tonight alright?” Craig asked softly in a raspy voice.


“Hnng—okay. Talk to yousoon.” Tweek answered with his own peck against Craig’s cheek as the other boy bent down for it.


“Make sure your schedule is free tonight.” Craig said-matter-of-factly as he was walking away. “I’ll see you later.”


Tweek cupped his hand, curling it around his mouth. “Ofcourse. My office is always open for you.” He teased back as Craig affectionately flipped back in a joking manner.


Tweek hummed as he walked home. Sure, it was a little lonelier since Craig wasn’t next to him during the trip, but he was inveterately content with his current existence. He threw himself onto the bed, a permanent smile that couldn’t be rubbed off as he stared up at his ceiling.


His phone buzzed, breaking the pleasant silence. He checked it and saw he had a message in the Group Chat with the girls. Perking his interest up, he opened the chat.


[Wendy the Wise]: Okay, time to ‘fess up Tweek. How did Craig react?


He twiddled his thumbs, trying to think of a suitable answer.


[Tweek]: he kinda almost ripped my clothes off?




[Bebe the Goddess]: did u get ravaged tweek?


[Tweek]: yes? I think so??


[Red the Queen]: wowie


[Heidi Smart and Funny]: What do you mean you think so?


[Nichole Protector of Dreams): Are you still intact?


[Lola of Liberty]: Um, why does that sound like tweek got hurt?


[Heidi Smart and Funny]: DID CRAIG HURT YOU??


[Wendy the Wise]: If Craig did something stupid, you can tell us alright Tweek.


[Tweek]: Craig was fine!!!! He did nothing wrong!!!


[Tweek]: He just sucked my penis


[Red the Queen]: WOWIE


[Bebe the Goddess]: EYYYYYYY 3 RD BASE


[Nichole Protector of Dreams]: Three down, one more to go


[Wendy the Wise]: Well, hang on. Tweek hasn’t reciprocated yet.


[Heidi Smart and Funny]: Oh, true! Yeah, you still have the opportunity to perform oral on Craig too


[Tweek]: but how did I ask???? It’s too much pressure to know if Craig wants to be sucked off


[Heidi Smart and Funny]:


[Wendy the Wise]:


[Bebe the Goddess]:


[Bebe the Goddess]: oh you’ll know


[Tweek]: that doesn’t help me at al!?


[Wendy the Wise]: Listen, I don’t think I would ever know a boy who would turn down a free blowjob


[Red the Queen]: worked great for you didn’t it?


[Wendy the Wise]: Red…make sure your doors are locked tonight


[Red the Queen]: I WAS JOKING, WENDY NO


[Bebe the Goddess]: shush wends, stop being bitter cause you got cockblocked by stan’s hardon for kyle


[Wendy the Wise]: You can’t see it right now, but I’m pouting. And sharpening my arrows


[Nichole Protector of Dreams]: No murder in this peaceful household


[Heidi Smart and Funny]: Only for getting people laid instead


[Red the Queen]: we should get a cake when you finally bang


[Bebe the Godesss]: yeah! we can all pitch in 4 a delicious celebration


[Tweek]: Aren’t I the one trying to sleep with Craig?? Why are you guys celebrating??


[Lola of Liberty]: We’re getting fucked by proxy


[Heidi Smart and Funny]: Wow, accurate


[Red the Queen]: Mood


[Wendy the Wise]: Metaphorically of course, no one’s an actual skank enough to try and hit on a gay dude


[Red the Queen]: *clears throat*


[Wendy the Wise]: Don’t


[Red the Queen]: *blows a kiss* I love ya girl, you know that right? (please don’t kill me)


[Bebe the Queen]: wends!! Chill my gurl


[Lola of Liberty]: Just drop down to your knees, give Craig your best bedroom eyes and SUCCC


[Heidi Smart and Funny]: Get out Lola


[Lola of Liberty]: Nooo, don’t kick me out! Please I’ll behave!


[Nichole Protector of Dreams]: Well, Lola isn’t wrong. Just, maybe not in those specific words. But the action is the same, you could show your appreciation instead of saying something, by deciding to give him oral to show your interest


[Heidi Smart and Funny]: I think thirst is more accurate


[Nichole Protector of Dreams]: True


[Lola of Liberty]: Just make sure you don’t go too far that you puke up your meal beforehand okay


[Tweek]: UM! I…..don’t think I have a gag reflex…


[Wendy the Wise]:


[Heidi Smart and Funny]:


[Nichole Protector of Dreams]: Oh


[Bebe the Goddess]: HANG ON, TWEEK, U DON’T HAVE A GAG REFLEX????


[Lola of Liberty]: holy shit


[Bebe the Goddess]: CRAIG IS GOING 2 GET FUCKED UP


[Wendy the Wise]: I think…I need some time to come to terms with this


[Red the Queen]: well




[Nichole Protector of Dreams]: Bebe!!


[Red the Queen]: Nichole!!


[Lola of Liberty]: Red!!


[Heidi Smart and Funny]: Donkey!!


[Wendy the Wise]: What the fuck did I just return to?


[Bebe the Goddess]: everyone still freaking out cause tweek can shove Craig’s entire schlong down this throat


[Tweek]: Please don’t say it like that!! It makes it gross-sounding!!


[Wendy the Wise]: I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but newsflash, dicks are gross


[Bebe the Goddess]: Yepppp, accurate shit there wends


[Lola of Liberty]: Yet


[Red the Queen]: doesn’t stop people tho


[Heidi Smart and Funny]: South Park does need more eligible bachelors


[Wendy the Wise]: Sometimes the saying is true, all the best guys are either taken, dead or gay


[Red the Queen]: morbid but also mood


[Heidi Smart and Funny]: I’m leaning towards gay for our situation in all honesty


[Nichole Protector of Dreams]: Aw guys, don’t be so disheartened


[Lola of Liberty]: Nichole, please. You’re dating Token, and both of you are happily in love. Let us spinsters have our pity-fest


[Tweek]: this is a pity-fest?


[Bebe the Goddess]: noo, it’s a support network 4 everyone!! Don’t worry girls, I’m sure there's better guys out there beyond South Park!!!


Tweek laughed. He couldn’t help it; the girls were just so pure and so supportive of his feelings and worries.


[Tweek]: Thanks everyone. I’m glad that you all have helped me out


[Wendy the Wise]: You’re welcome.


The warm fuzzy feeling crept up from his chest and sent happy tingles through his body. He was content, and he felt validated and alive for the first time in a while and it wasn’t with Craig.


Was that bad?


Was he a bad person that other people made him happy too?


Maybe he was.


Maybe he was a bad person.





There’s a text that blindly flashes into his dark room. A cursory look at the time puts it at nearly a quarter to midnight. There’s a tinge of sleep in his eyes, as he awakens from his nap. The dark circles under his eyes are puffy as he pokes them, their soft plush making him frown. How long have they’ve been there?


No matter. Tweek opens the notification he has received. It’s a text message from Craig.


[Craig <3]: Get ready to sneak out tonight. We’re going out on a date.


Tweek stares at his window. The moon is out. The stars are draped onto the night sky, sparkling haphazard decorations like a salt-shaker fell over and its contents spilled into the inky darkness. The house is quiet, as usual. His parents are humbly sleeping, dead to the world, and sometimes as Tweek thinks to himself, to him.


There’s sudden tapping on his window, loud punctuating in the silence and he jostles from the unexpected sounds. It’s dark, and the weather has been rapidly getting cooler and everything is returning to what South Park is known for. Blindly freezing weather and insane outwardly antics of anything and everything happening.


Tweek hesitantly walks closer to the pinging sounds, his hands wrapped around his phone like a lifeline, heavy in its metaphorical strength and the only protection between him and strange noise. In a second, his hands are vibrating and he throws his shield against the wall in reaction. It makes a heavy thud, and he gasps from his stupidity.


His phone! His connection to Craig! He stumbles over his feet as he frantically checks the device. It's not cracked, and he can power it on normally, so he sees that as a win.


[Craig <3]: Check outside your window


Tweek peers out his glass windows, squinting into the darkness. He sees nothing out of the ordinary when he looks at the levelled scene. Just houses in the gloomy black curtain pulled across his eyes.


[Craig <3]: Look down nerd


He looks. Craig has his hands in his pockets, staring upwards, mouthing something. When Tweek doesn’t react, his boyfriend takes one hand and beckons him out. Tweek blinks before the invite finally sinks into his brain.


Stumbling downstairs while trying to minimally create any noise was harder than he expected, and after a rather loud thud, he pauses. Waiting for any lights in his bedroom lights to turn on and any curious conversation with his parents.


But nothing happens and the house is quiet.


So he creeps out, locking the door behind him with care as the night chill sweeps over him in a cool wave as he exits his house. Craig is there to greet him, slouched and as casual as ever without any regard of being out and about in South Park at almost midnight. He vaguely has a joke about being reverse Cinderella that bounces in his head but it never escapes his mouth.


He’s no Cinderella and Craig isn’t a Prince.


His life is no fairy-tale where the ending is already established with a happy end written out.


He strews these thoughts in his head and it's only when he’s gently nudged does he realize that they are no longer in the driveway of his home and instead are starting to delve into the forest that covers part of their hometown. It’s deadly quiet now, and only the exhale of Craig’s misty breath paces the rapid beating of his heart.


“Okay, I’m going to put my hands on your eyes because it’s a surprise. Is that alright?” Craig asks as monotone as ever and Tweek has to shake himself out of his stupor.


“Alright?” He replies timidly, unsure of what Craig’s plans are.


His boyfriend presses his warm hands across his eyes and it’s honestly nice. The weight and the heat emanating from Craig is almost relaxing against his chilled skin and he leans back as Craig steers the both of them. His lover cacoons his smaller body like a blanket (one that envelopes him with a certain care and precaution) as Craig moves forward in whatever direction he sees fit. There are a few stumbles here and there, mostly because the ground is littered with dead branches and twigs across the dirt, but his boyfriend stops whenever a stumble seems to occur and keeps him balanced every time.


Tweek is unsure of what’s happening. He trusts Craig of course intrinsically, but rationality has never been his strong point. There’s a small nagging voice that echoes feebly about how Craig could be leading them over to a cliff and dropping his sorry ass into the rocky depths. He squashes that thought as instantly as it comes, because seriously??


Craig would never purposely hurt him. He was sure of it.


“Easy there Tweek, we’re nearly here.” Craig tenderly whispers in the nipping air and Tweek blows out a shaky breath as he pulls himself together. Just a little more, and he’ll be able to see again. There’s a low hum coming from behind, vibrating against his back and Tweek focuses on it, letting his mind hone onto deciphering what the tune is instead of overthinking about the fact that he’s walking around blindly.


“Are you humming the Imperial March dude?” Tweek blurts out when he finally recognizes what it is.


Craig pauses. The two of them come to a standstill and as Tweek’s legs ripple through a tremor, the taller boy clears his throat. “It just popped into my head.”


“Man, don’t do shit like that to my heart. I wasgoing to think you were going to kill me.” Tweek mumbles out.


Tweek can hear the frown in Craig’s words. “Dude, I would never do something like that.”


“I know.” Tweek swallows a lump in his throat. “I know youwouldn’t. Just.” He bites his lip, really digs into his teeth, like he was punishing himself for even entertaining such thoughts. With a pathetic whisper, he apologizes. “I was being stupid again. I’m sorry! I’m an idiot and I don’t understand why you deal with me. I fuck up all the time and I-“


Craig let’s go of his hold across his face and it takes a few bleary seconds for Tweek to realize that his vision has been restored. Its dark yet the sky illuminates his vision and he loses his breath.


It’s beautiful.


“I finally saved up enough for the telescope I wanted. It came in the mail a few days ago and I’ve been putting it together and figuring out which night was the best time to go Star Gazing.” Craig explains as he tucks his hands into his pockets. He jerks his head to the complicated telescope already assembled and ready to be used.


Tweek draws his eyes from the cylindrical tube that points up to a dramatic splatter of stars dusted across the inky blanket, shimmering and blinking with an orchestral tempo, as sections light up in vibrancy. He cranes his neck, tilting backwards. Up and up until his bends his neck far enough that he sees Craig’s face come into his vision, his partner’s eyebrows raised in smooth amusement.


“This is fucking beautiful.” Tweek confesses. He’s in awe, and the rather clear view of the natural light-show occurring in front of him, jilting from a newfound excitement.


“I know right.” Craig fires back, equally as pumped. “Here, let me show you which constellations are out this season.” With a warm hand, Craig wraps it around Tweek’s and nudges him to the telescope, giving a quick check before offering the view to his partner.


“Here’s Andromeda. It’s the V-shaped one just over there. It’s also right next to Pegasus, so if you just move a little down you’ll see the shape, although you have to imagine it being flipped to see it properly.” Craig practically gushes. “There’s also Pisces, just below Andromeda and Pegasus. Some civilizations saw one fish, others saw two. But it’s always popped up in different cultures throughout history.”


Tweek drinks in the new information like a dying man. It goes down like warm liquid gold as he sinks himself into Craig’s hold, as he smothers his shorter partner and guides to move the telescope with each piece of information.


It’s frosty. The air has gotten colder as he guesses that they’ve been spending a fair bit of time in the open air. It doesn’t seem like time is passing but. Not when Craig is animatedly talking into Tweek’s air, not when Craig huddles himself so Tweek shivers less from the cold but from the intimacy of their body contact. Only when Craig has to take a deep breath from speaking too much, that the illusion of time breaks and Tweek feels his body protest from standing still for so long.


“Can we sit down somewhere Craig? My legs are hurting.” He asks and Craig reacts by retracting himself from Tweek. The lack of contact almost makes him whine because his heat source disappears and the night bitterness envelopes him instead. His boyfriend doesn’t disappear far, just a few steps where he’s plopped himself onto a dead log, seated and patting the space next to him. Tweek follows and plants himself on the coarse log, huddling back to his warmth.


“Gah. Why is it so freezing so quickly?” Tweek mumbles out into boyfriend’s shoulders.


“It’s getting close to Winter again.” Craig answers his face turned to the sky, “Summer feels like a lifetime ago.”


“Not fair-eugh. I was getting used to wearing fewer clothes.” Tweek complains.


“Yeah and I was getting blueballed the fuck off.” Craig mutters under his breath and Tweek has to contain himself from giggling at his lover’s predicament (that he caused technically).  


“Oh, Craig. Shooting stars!” Tweek prattles, “Look! There’s a few of them now.”


Craig points out with his finger that’s next to Tweek’s cheek, pointing them out. “One. Two. Three. Three wishes.”


The dash of the white pinpricks of light falling across the night-sky sends something simmering underneath his skin. “I wish that you pass your English class.”


Craig groans. “Are you seriously using one of our wishes on an exam?”


“Excuse me, I did my best but I am not havingyoufailEnglish because you can’t concentrate.” Tweek haughtily counters. Dimly, in the back of his mind, he realizes Craig had said ours. Not mine or yours. Ours.


“Fine. I wish that your parents would pay more attention to their son’s well-being and not overwork him during his shifts.” Craig mutters out and Tweek awkwardly shifts.


“You don’t have to waste one of the wishes on me.” He stammers out. “How about wishing for a car? That’smore practical.”


“Any wish I use on you is never a waste,” Craig says with finality in his words. “Don’t ever think you’re not worth it Tweek.”


Something hot blooms in his chest – and he’s ninety-nine percent sure it’s not one of those nasty Alien babies (one percent because he’s never completely sure of anything in all honesty) and he feels a sudden wash of adoration and surprise.


“I wish that we will stay together forever.” He proclaims before his brain can think about his words. Craig stills from his confession and for a few chilling seconds, Tweek thinks he’s royally fucked up and now his relationship is ruined because he became a clingy, borderline possessive boyfriend who shouted out creepy declarations and Oh God now Craig is going to dump hi—


“Me too.” Craig responds in quiet voice.


Tweek trembles and its not from the cold. “You do. Why?”


“Because I love you Tweek, and I want us to stay together.” Craig visibly swallows and Tweek has to blink a few times.


“You do.” Tweek asks almost too quiet to hear. “But I’m. Me. I’m a fuck-up. I can’t do anything properly without screwing something up. If I stay with you I’ll end up dragging you down. You would be better without me. You should have a normal life, with a normal boyfriend.”


“I don’t want normal. No one is normal in South Park. All I want is you Tweek.” Craig almost growls out.


“But I make your life difficult. I take so much energy and time in your life.” Tweek counters back.


“I don’t care. I’ll do whatever I need to keep us together. I’ll pick up another job, get a car and I’ll be back from Denver every weekend.” Craig rambles out.


“Why would you be in Denver?” Tweek focuses on.


Craig stops and his mouth becomes a thin line. “I’m thinking of applying to an Astrophysics course in Denver.”


“You’ll be leaving?” It’s not a question, but rather an accusation. Tweek can’t stop the poison in his words.


“I promise I’ll be back every opportunity I can get,” Craig answers with some hesitation. “I’m sorry for not talking about it earlier."


“You’re sorry!” Tweek angrily cries out. “You’re sorry that you’re leaving me?”


“Tweek. You can’t expect me to stay here for all of my years. I want to take you to new places, beyond this dump of a place. I want to show you the world. Not die in this place, not having done anything in my life. I want to make you happy.” Craig utters, pressing his hands against his partner’s shoulders, as Tweek listens through silent hiccups.


“You make me happy already,” Tweek confesses, his emotions running high. “I don’t want you to leave.”


“I’m not going to leave you Tweek. Just, need to do something for both of us. For a better quality life.” Craig reassures, turning around and looking straight into Tweek’s misty eyes. “I love you, and I want to make you proud of me.”


“I amproud of you.” Tweek declares. “I think you’re the best person I’vever known.”


“I know. But I need me to know that.” Craig confesses, “and I need this.”


Craig lets the silence hang in the air. As Tweek looks up from his boyfriend’s face and up to the night above. The stars glitter and look down below at him. Craig wants this. He needs this.


“Okay.” Tweek says finally. “I’ll support you.”


“Thank you Tweek.” Craig puffs out.


He smiles at Craig’s soft words. Snuggling closer to his boyfriend, shifting his weight with accidentally fumbling himself into the taller boy’s lap. An accidental jab into Craig makes Tweek yelp as he tumbles and he founds himself, head first straight onto his partner’s crotch.


“Ah shit.” Craig curses, rubbing the sore spot before realizing his lover’s position. “Tweek are you alright?”


Tweek licks his lips. Reciprocal huh? “Yeah I’am. Stay still.”


Craig raises an eyebrow for a second. But it deepens when Tweek pokes at his boyfriend’s crotch and unzips his jeans. “Tweek…?” Craig trails off.


“Let me work.” Tweek says with finality. He thumbs the flaccid penis (which is still really large considering it’s soft) inside the pants and Craig hisses as Tweek handles the organ and places it out in the chilled air. Gathering some spit in his mouth, Tweek lathers it over the head of the penis and moves slowly down the hardening cock. There are hands in Tweek’s hair, as Craig wheezes out.


“Wait, you don’t need to go so far. I don’t want to hurt you.”


Tweek pops off the dick, looking straight up, “I don’t have a gag reflex.”


“You don’t have a—“


Tweek covers his boyfriend’s dick with his mouth, sliding down his throat and the fingers in his blond hair tighten in its grip. Craig’s last words gurgle out into incomprehensible noises that transition into groans as Tweek swallows the length. His mouth and throat feels full, consuming the cock, spit covering the flesh and Craig shifts his hips, shoving the penis even further down Tweek’s mouth. Muffled moans spill from the shorter boy’s lips, and the volume of the salty flesh make Tweek close his eyes to focus on his breathing.


Sucking and hallowing his mouth against the cock with a fervour makes Craig juts his hips leading him to let out low whimpers. Tweek’s tongue sweeps the underside of his partner’s penis and Craig hitches his breath with a tight sound. Tweek digs his fingers into Craig’s clothes legs, scratching and prodding at his boyfriend’s limbs like an urgency to go faster. Craig complies, his hands nudging Tweek’s head up and down, moving along the penis.  


“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck.” Craig curses as the hot enveloping heat of Tweek’s mouth sends him over the edge. Semen flows down his throat, cum drenching his mouth and Tweek squeaks as it overflows. He tries to gulp it down before it spills out from his lips, the warm salty taste overcoming his senses. It’s pretty gross, but he would rather clean it up instead of splattering on his clothes (that’s how he’s going to justify it anyway).


“Tweek.” Craig puffs out, seemingly out of any coherence. “Tweek. What. You. Fuck.”


Wiping the excess cum from his lips with his hand and placing the mess on the grass, Tweek grins up. “All Tuckered out huh?”


“You fucker.” Craig growls out, but there is no bite to it.


“I think youenjoyed it.” Tweek teases out.


“I sure as fuck did.” Craig smirks out, before stretching his arms and pushing him upwards. “Come on, let’s go home.”


“I want to go to your house tonight.” Tweek asks, seeing Craig stop in his actions.”Justtosleepnothingelse.”


“Sure.” Craig replies, offering his hand to the seated Tweek up.


As Tweek wiggles closer to Craig’s body, underneath the blankets in his boyfriend’s bed he feels tired. The Glow-in-the-Dark star stickers on his partner’s ceilings that had been put on years ago when they were younger emante light from above. It’s the last thing Tweek sees that night, with a content feeling in his veins.


He's happy.

Chapter Text

Everything becomes too much, like a sensory overload. There’s the brush of Tweek’s messy hair across his nose, a latent threat for a fury of sneezes to overwhelm Craig. There are noises, the low-emitted kind that rolls over the both of them in high and faint pitches of strangled groans and whimpers. There’s ferocious scrapping of blunt nails across a tan nape, that’s sending shivers rolling across Craig’s body and making him buckle against the warm body underneath him. There’s the taste of his boyfriend, of vague coffee aroma in the corners of the pinned down boy’s mouth. Tweek is invigorating; and equally as draining.


Starving in how he clasps himself around the taller boy, arms gripped across broader shoulders and leaving hard dents of his presence behind. Purifying in how he presses his mouth against Craig’s cheek, his lips and forehead as shaky hands sweep up black locks and leave warm touches of fingers and whispers of love. 


Craig drinks in the addicting mess that is Tweek Tweak. He’s inexplicably drawn to each raspy breath, each shuddering inhale as the articles of clothing drop to the floor. His blue coat is gone, and his shoes kicked off long before the two of them have pushed their bodies against each other, rutting and grinding their yearning limbs against torsos and crotches in a heap of tangled up sheets. The Space posters, of Astronauts and Spaceships filled with map constellations, almost feel out-of-place to how it paints the foreground with a sense of responsibility while the two of them are attacking each other with their mouths.


Tweek gyrates his hips against Craig and the effect is dazzling. Craig sucks in a deep breath as he tries to adjust himself, his legs pinning Tweek below in a stronghold.


“Let me breathe dude.” Tweek huffs out with some annoyance in his words, looking sinfully upwards with dilated doe eyes.


“No thanks,” Craig teases back as he mouths against Tweek’s jawline, his hands unbuttoning Tweek’s green shirt with care, popping each shiny piece with excited fingers.


“You’re not going to let me breathe?” Tweek giggles out, as Craig nuzzles his partner.


“I will. Right after I give you the best orgasms of your life.” The promise makes Tweek twitch. Craig peels off his boyfriend’s shirt, throwing it onto the bed and begins to pull off Tweek’s pants. “Up we go babe,” Craig mutters, patting the blond’s rear and there’s some slight squirming as Craig unwraps his present, shielded by nylon and cotton to reveal thighs with some healing love-bites littered across the skin. Craig feels a twirling sense of pride as he thumbs the marks, leaving Tweek to stutter and let out little moans from the pressure. “That’s a good boy.”


Spraying his tanned hands across Tweek’s milky skin never fails to make him aroused, as he takes off his partner’s underwear in a flash of quick movement. The same hands grip the shorter boy’s erection with firmness, pumping the member across the flesh and Tweek moans and writhes from the tightness of Craig’s nimble fingers that rub the other boy’s head. Speeding up the process makes Tweek almost vibrate, slowing down makes him whine and whinge, pale hands petting Craig’s pants where a noticeable bulge is starting to occur. Craig gently swats away Tweek’s hands, tutting softly and his partner complains.


“Craig—ugh, God. Why not?” Tweek all but moans out, his pale green eyes flashing with need. “Comeoncomeoncomeon.


“Hush, babe. You know I want to make you feel good first.” Craig murmurs, watching as Tweek swallows a question and his lashes flutter downwards, looking discreetly at how clothed Craig is.


“At least take off your clothes. Man, stop making me feelweird being the only one naked.” Tweek scoffs and Craig sighs heartily but follows the request, removing himself from Tweek and sweeping his clothes off. His chullo gets gently taken off, and laid on his partner looking upwards with an inquisitive look, biting his bottom lip and looking very cute with the hat tucked over the blond’s head. Craig takes off his shirt, tugging it over his torso, his face being momentarily covered by white cotton as he shimmies it off, head first. The clothing is thrown to the side, and Craig tilts his head as he works on his pants. There’s something exciting flickering in Tweek’s, hungry attentiveness scoured in the depths of his eyes, and desire is rapidly pooling in Craig’s stomach.


The jeans get ripped off, the underwear meeting a similar fate as the final articles clothing is shed. Tweek gives an appreciative look, scanning up and down Craig’s exposed skin, biting his bottom lip and lifting his lashes up. “When did you get these muscles?”


“I’ve been hitting the gym.” Craig answers as he shrugs. “You did say you wanted to be lifted up.”


“It was a metaphor.” Tweek pouts, but there’s no pure annoyance in the words.


“I better hear no complaints then,” Craig rumbles as he attaches himself to Tweek by nibbling on his skin, leaving ruby bites splattered with spit. “I’ve been working hard. I think I deserve a reward.”


“You’re looking at it—nng.”


“Thanks.” Craig says dryly. He moves from Tweek’s pale neck, from his shoulders, across the torso, down to his boyfriend’s interested erection to where he takes the member into his hot mouth. He likes how Tweek always seems to react explosively whenever Craig goes down on him. There’s always noises, and shifting as Tweek twists into the sheets, arching his back on instinct that pushes the dick in his mouth further down. However, unlike his talented boyfriend, Craig has a gag reflex that likes to kick in by the time he completely has Tweek in his mouth and any shallow thrusts almost set it off. Craig tenderly pushes Tweek back onto the bed and gives his best at worshipping the organ slicked up by saliva from a careful distance. 


He entertains by giving slow sucks, tongue ravishing the staff and Tweek coos back in approval from the attention. He enjoys how he seems to almost unravel Tweek with his mouth, just constant brushing of his tongue against his boyfriend’s manhood until there’s sweet begging streaming from his lover.


Pleads. Prayers. Promises.


Just a string of Oh God, Oh God, Oh God, followed by his name dribbling out in devotion, a voracity of limitless lust.


It’s intoxicating and Craig is famished.


As Tweek gushes his seed down Craig’s throat, his burning appetite is only further ignited. He draws off the softening dick, and moves up to say something but instead, Tweek digs his fingers into black hair, pulling the attached face down for a kiss. Tweek’s tongue licks and begs to pry Craig’s mouth open, to which the holding liquid still cradled in the taller boy drips from Craig into the hungry abyss of Tweek. Sucking and swallowing, Tweek is merciless in consuming everything Craig has through vicious lip-locking. 


The action surprises Craig, who freezes. Tweek greedily guzzles down the swirling mess of cum and spit. It happens so quickly, and so out of tempo that the realization of Tweek’s action makes the blond boy screech.


“Oh, man! That was too weird?! Shit, I’msosorryforthat. I’m gross. I’m disgusting. How could I do that?!”


Craig jumps back into action, “Holy shit, that was super hot.”


“I-it was?” Tweek says quietly. His pink tongue peeking out with curiosity, as cum dots the mouth appendage.


Rapidly nodding, Craig answers with assurance. “Definitely, sooo into it.”


He wasn’t going to complain if Tweek was a cum slut (as long as Tweek was his cum slut).


“Okay.” Tweek says licking his lips. “Okay, okay. Are we—“ He repeats with uncertainty. “Are we going to do it?”


“I hope we’re not banging an Eldritch monster.” Craig intones with impassive humour.


“You know what I mean!” Tweek admonishes. “Are you going to put yourdick in me?”


“I sure hope so.” Craig answers. He rummages through his drawers, looking for his trusty lube. He feels the cool bottle and he pulls it out. It’s lighter than he was expecting and he uncaps it, drizzling his fingers with some splotches of the viscous liquid until it lets out a pathetic splat and droplets are all that is left.


He slathers as much as he can on his raised erection, letting the dusky head become shiny with the spread and uses the rest of what is stuck to his fingers by moving a digit into Tweek’s asshole. It makes a squelching sound, just a tiny sound and Craig slips another finger just to spread the lube and coat Tweek’s insides with the remnants. He spreads the two digits (scissoring, his brain reminds him), opening up Tweek, making the shorter boy twist and turn from the quick process.


“Um—so. Is this it?” Tweek asks, “Are you going to—ack, put your penis in me?”


“Yeah. That’s the idea.” Craig responds, lining himself up against Tweek’s hole.


“Am I supposed to say something? Do we need to say anything?” Tweek rambles on, clutching intensely onto Craig.


“Like affirmative consent or some shit?” Craig converses. “I think we’re pretty much on the same page.”


“Ahuh.” Tweek takes a deep breath. “Okay, so, uh. You good to go?”


“Yeah, I’m good.” Craig reacts by pushing his cock forward, breaching the ring of muscle. His hips stutter, just at the entrance of his partner and the sweet tightness is almost instant. Craig hovers over his boyfriend, his face mushed into the pillow next to him. What he can’t see is how Tweek stills, the blond’s forehead creased, mouth turned downwards and eyes blinking with growing concern.


Craig moves forward, lurching deeper into his partner.  Tweek reacts with a violent burst.


“Ow. Dude! Stop, stop!” Tweek thumps his hand across Craig’s back and the taller boy freezes for the second time.


“What’s wrong?” He asks, pulling back from Tweek’s body and hovering his face over the grimace splashed on the blond boy.


“You’re hurting me.” Tweek says in a voice quiet and fragile. “Is it supposed to hurt?”


That makes Craig frown. “No. It’s not supposed to hurt at all. It’s supposed to feel good.”


Tweek gnaws his bottom lip. Pausing. “I feel pain. I don’t like when it hurts. Get out, get out.”


“Shit. I’m sorry.” Craig apologizes, dread spilling into his stomach. He pulls out from his lover who squirms uncomfortably. It takes some shifting for Craig to retract his penis from Tweek, his lover’s lower entrance is slightly tinted pink with only a light shimmering of the lube.


“That wasn’t nice.” Tweek breaks the silence. “I don’t know if I want—urk. Your dick in me.”


“I’m sorry.” Craig parrots, any semblance of anything but worry permeating his body. His muscles are tense, Tweek is avoiding his eyes and Craig feels like a huge jackass. He bends down to leave a kiss on Tweek’s forehead, only to have the blond turn on his side and the raven-head's mouth lands on sweaty golden hair.


“I want to sleep.” Tweek announces and the conversation ends. He grabs the quilts kicked to the end of the bed and pulls it over his naked body, turning away from his partner’s face. The chullo rustles off and falls onto the pillow next to him.


Craig rolls to his side, hurt flashing in his eyes that Tweek misses.


He feels like shit.





It comes back to a cold-shoulder treatment. Tweek seems to forget his existence, with barely any peep from his partner. Texts get unread. Calls unanswered. When it’s school, Tweek skims Craig’s steely gaze and focuses on his work. There’s no group work, no collaborative efforts so there are no confrontations in the classrooms.


Craig can’t get any time with Tweek out of the rooms either. The girls make a human barrier, bumping and prodding him away from his partner. Any and all attempts at bridging a conversation between Tweek gets flung out when a girl walks straight up and steers a chat towards her from Craig. Essentially cock-blocking him. Craig sneers at them, flipping them off in his Tucker tradition but it does nothing to quell the glares they send his way.


He’s guessing Tweek’s already spilled about what’s happened. He’s partly offended and hurt that their privacy seems to be public knowledge (although, that seems to be generally their relationship in South Park considering it started off as official before they made it official). He’s irritated because they already did this stupid dance, tip-toeing the lines of intimacy before and Craig thought it was the end of that. But more in all, he’s worried. He’s anxious about what it means for them.


Does Tweek want to break up? Is this really the end of Craig x Tweek?


Are they really going to end their relationship because of his dick?


He’ll never hear the end of it, the repulsive jeers, the snotty expressions from the girls, the whispers and rumors.


(If he thought Wendy and Stan’s public breakup was bad, then he can’t imagine the shitstorm that would occur if Tweek and himself ended it. It won’t be pretty, there’s a chance some of the Asian girls will have a breakdown and he doesn’t have the energy to deal with that.)


He’s angry now. Angry at Tweek. Angry at himself.


Did he go too fast? Did the both of them pass their boundaries too quickly in their haste to finalize the deed?


It still stings. The way Tweek seems to rejects any attempts at recollecting themselves. Maybe he needs time again. Craig is sure that his partner is getting advice from the girls, and while in any other circumstance he would be thrilled that his boyfriend is expanding a friendship group, this is not the exact scenario he expects to have it occur.


Whatever it is, it’s starting to affect his mood. If people thought he was aggressive before, then now his behaviour is turned up to a Ten. He’s extra grouchy, readily flipping off students and teachers alike at a drop of the hat. There are four extra detentions that week, and a bruised knuckle where he’s getting it treated from the school’s nurse who looks at him like he’s gum under her shoe; a deplored expression filled with annoyance and exasperation. 


So sue him. He’s starting to get pissed. This whole communication thing is beginning to majorly suck.


His friends corner him one day after he’s finished one detention. Token, Clyde and Jimmy altogether at his house. He almost slams the door on Clyde’s fingers before Token steps in and almost pushes Craig over, the impact making the door open wide. He flips off Token, to the black boy’s amusement before his friends stroll in – he doesn’t have to be a gracious host if he never asked for it in the first place – where they have plopped themselves on his sofa. Dicks.


“Can I get you something to drink? Water, juice, or get-the-fuck-out-of-my-house?” Craig states with irritation in his vowels.


“I’ll take soda thanks.” Clyde innocently beams as he waves his hands.


“The fuck you will.” Craig mutters, but Token and Jimmy have seemed to made themselves home, and he doesn’t have the energy to deal with kicking all three of them out (seriously he’s been working out, but he’s not that strong).


“So this is an intervention.” Token flatly states.


“I figured.” Craig replies just as blandly.


“D-d-don’t be a sourpuss Craig. You’re acting p-p-p-pretty shitty in school these days.” Jimmy tuts.


“Yeah, dude. It’s not a good look for you. And where’s Tweek off to now? Got some love troubles brewing I reckon, because you’re looking at the Love Guru. Clyde at your service.” Clyde good-naturally winks – except it looks more like he’s having a spasm in his right eye than a smooth wink if Craig is being honest – and taps a fist to his chest.


“Says the virgin.” Craig jabs out.


“Ow. Dude, low blow. And it takes one to know one.” Clyde counters back jokingly.


Craig freezes from the statement. This does not go unnoticed.


“So.” Token starts, “Tweek and you are sleeping together now?”


Craig coughs loudly.


Clyde lets out a low whistle. “Dude. Dude! Is Tweek taking it up the butt now? Is that why he’s always covered in bites?” The brown-haired boy creases his forehead. “I always thought he was being a chew-toy for some dogs, but oh shit, it’s from you.” Clyde accuses by directly pointing at Craig.


“N-n-nice job.” Jimmy congratulates.


Craig gently massages his forehead. “This is not happening.”


“Sorry bro, but it is.” Token responds, “My issue is that there’s something wrong if Tweek is hanging with the girls again.” He folds his arms. “So spill.”


Craig presses his hands further into his face. “It’s none of your business.”


“But Tweek is our friend too, and if his boyfriend,” Clyde tilts his head towards Craig, “is being a bastard, we need to step in and help.”


“You make Tweek sound like he’s unable to speak up for himself.” Craig mutters.


“I’m sure Tweek has no obstacle preventing him from talking, but Craig, man. You aren’t known for dealing well with your feelings.” Token chastises.


“Thanks.” Craig retorts.


“So.” Token repeats. “What’s the problem?”


Craig sighs for the upteempth time but there are the intense stares directed at him which he can’t avoid. Better off to rip the Band-Aid quickly.


“Tweek doesn’t like having sex with me.”


If Clyde had been given his soda, he would have spat it out at this confession. Instead, he chokes on his spit and Token whacks him on the back to stop his friend from dying. Jimmy raises an eyebrow looking very confused and Craig just wants to avoid any human interaction for the rest of his life.


“Well.” Token says when the coughing dies down. “That was unexpected.”


“Are you.” Clyde slowly speaks, “Like impotent or some shit…?”


“God-fucking-damn-it Clyde.” Craig sighs.


“What’s the actual p-p-problem then Craig?” Jimmy intervenes before Clyde and Craig can begin a petty fight.


Craig’s lips are in a permanent scowl but he confesses. “I fucked up with Tweek.”


“How?” Token presses on. 


Craig sighs again, closing his eyes, breathing deeply. He cracks one eye open squinting at his eager friends. “It hurt when we tried to fuck. So I stopped, and now Tweek is pissed at me. Or embarrassed. One of them. Maybe both.”


“I mean.” Token waves his hand, “Did you do enough prep for it?”


“What?” Craig flatly asks.


Token clicks his tongue, and his eyes lighten up in recognition. “I’m guessing you didn’t prepare Tweek properly.”


“Prepare what?” Craig responds, getting a little frustrated with the situation.


“Tweek’s backside,” Token says. Pauses. “That sounds fucking weird, don’t make me ever say that again.”


“Y’know since Tweek isn’t a girl and all so he doesn’t get all ready naturally.” Clyde describes all matter-of-factly.


Craig glares at Clyde but he blows a breath. “Yeah, I realized after I fucked up.”


“Dude,” Token conveys with a mixture of amusement and exasperation, “Did you think you could have anal without prepping your partner?”


“N-n-not the best idea.” Jimmy expresses.


Craig groans. “Look I get it. I might have thought Tweek could take me in one go. Apparently not.”


“Wow dude,” Clyde jokes, “Did you go for the goal right off the bat?”


Craig glares even harder at Clyde.


“Oh shit, you really did.” Clyde finally realizes.


 “Cool. Now you know what happened. Get off my back.” Craig declares.


“No way.” Token asserts, “We’re going to help you out. We’re your friends.” Token laments, “Even if it’s about you trying to shove your dick into our other friend.”


 “B-b-best buds have each other’s back.” Jimmy optimistically adds.


“So,” Token suggests, “Generally for anal, there are a few things to note. Prepping for it requires stretching and a crap-ton of lube. Sometimes, if the genitalia is too big, you could make your way up to getting sex-toys to stretch out the. Anal cavity.” Token delivers with wavering confidence.


Sex-toys.” Craig voices, the only thing he focused on the spiel.


“Ahuh,” Cylde remarks, “The possibilities are endless, sex-toys to spice up your life. Spice.” Clyde makes some spirit fingers waggling into the air with a wide grin on his face.


“Stop your stupid finger thing.” Craig berates, giving one quick pointed stare and bird to Clyde before returning to Token’s level of gaze. “So stretch beforehand and use a shit-ton of lube.”


Token shrugs. “Pretty much. Now that you’ve been properly educated can you please stop moping around and talk to your boyfriend. I do not want to get into another fight. Listen I can’t afford any altercations on my Junior record.”


“Rich boy.” Craig quips but it’s in good nature. “Alright, who wants something to drink?”






Tweek corners him behind the building. There’s no one around – that will turn out to be a good or bad thing depending on how this confrontation ends – and the silver chained fence that separates the building from the green space of grass and metallic shinning benches has a suffocating silence swept over it. Craig has his hands inserted into his pockets, a blank stare on as he watches how Tweek fidgets with his pale fingers, shaking in the afternoon chill.


“I think we bothknow why we’re here.” Tweek says like he’s a villain from a cheesy Spy movie they’ve both seen late at night, cuddled by warm blankets and the glow of their laptop.


“Tweek you sound like you’re at a Confession.” Craig retorts, equally amused by the sheer stupidity and déjà vu of this exact situation.


“Well, this is partly a Confession, y’know.” Tweek banters back, a weak smile creeping up.


“Forgive me Father, for I have sinned.” Craig coolly ends with a touch of a smirk to his lips.


Tweek barks out some laughter. It’s small at first, just a chuckle, then some longer ones, and finally he’s heaving. Full-bellied laughs and the excitement is contagious and so even Craig cracks a smile, looking lovingly at his boyfriend. 


“Okay, okay. Okay. Okay.” Tweek wheezes out when he stops giggling. “I’m good now.”


“I fucked up.” Craig blurts out. Unexpectedly, but just as sincere. “I’m sorry about not prepping you when we tried to have sex.”


“I know.” Tweek holds up his hand, “I knowyeah. I’ve researched and the girls reassured me.” There’s a tease of a smile painted on his lips “Y’know, the girls were pissed. Super pissed. They threatened to sic Nelly on you.”


“Shit, that would be a pain.” Craig responds.


“Which is why I said no to thatidea. Like—ugh, I would appreciate my boyfriend in one-piece.” Tweek solemnly says.


“I’m sorry about it. I promise to try better next time. If there is a next time.” Craig states. Hesitantly he presses forward. “Am I forgiven?”


Tweek stares at Craig, the corners of his eyes crinkled, with something vulnerable swimming in his green eyes. “Yeah. Yeah, you are.”


“You know.” Craig says blandly, “It’s kind of stupid that the girls are always involved with our problems. Fuck, the entire school seems to be nosy about our private business.”


Tweek looks hesitant, squeezing his hands together and breathing quickly. His voice is high-pitched and strangled. “I mean! Our entire relationship started as a sick fascination between the Asian girls. Does it. Does it seem strange that the tradition—ugh. Is being continued?”


“Maybe not, if you’re being logically consistent.” Craig admits. “But it still feels weird man.”


“Ack! Well Imean. It’s only a small group of girls who know about it. I think. Something about Safe Space.” Tweek assures.


“Still.” Craig snorts. “God it’s a little creepy how much they’ve invested in our love life.”


“Idon’tknow about that.” Tweek retorts. “The girls were really supportive ofme. Like they gave some decent advice—hnng. But I think.” Tweek takes a deep breath looking slightly nervous. “They babied me toomuch. Expecting me to be helpless. And tried to separate us because they thought that you should suffer.” Blond hair is shaken side to side as a resolved expression fills Tweek’s face. “I think after I got over the shock that you weren’t perfect, then I realized that running around in circles didnothing.”


“Of course I’m not perfect,” Craig repeats. Surprise dripping from his words. “I’m far from perfect dude.”

Tweek’s expression softens. “I know. I had to realize that. I thought.” He bites his lip. “I always thought you could do no wrong. Because you’re Craig-Motherfucking-Tucker and you don’t give a shit about societal expectations. But deep down, you’re human too. You have feelings, and you make mistakes.” Tweek’s smile is weak but it’s one of the most genuine Craig has ever seen, and something wells inside the taller boy. Something warm and light and his stomach does some flips from his boyfriend’s confession.


“God I fucking love you.” He blurts out like an idiot.


A flush travels from his neck to his face following his words. A similar red is dusted over Tweek who squawks and flails his arms around, jittered from the declaration.


“UM!? I love youtoo???”




At least Tweek x Craig are still together.




The bus jostles and Craig puts his hand on Tweek’s backpack just to make sure his boyfriend doesn’t accidentally fall over from the skidding brakes. Tweek’s backpack has his thermos, his keys, his phone, tissues and wipes for any situation to occur. Craig has his own bag on, although his own is empty. His own hand is curled around the dangling plastic triangle shape hanging from the ceiling. The public transport is not crowded even though it’s the weekend. It’s a blessing in disguise he thinks. Craig pushes the button and gently ushers his boyfriend to the bus door when they come to their Stop. The cold wind blows on his hair, which is not being protected by his hat for reasons. Undercover reasons.


Tweek is wearing a clean long-sleeved shirt and Craig has done his best to tame his partner’s wild hair. Craig decided on the white shirt with a navy denim jacket combo, trying his best to look older. He sighs, cracks his neck and tightens his grip on his lover’s hand.


The signage is old, tattered even if he wanted to be more poetic. He pushes the door in, hearing the muttered worries of his partner who hastily whispers “We’re going to get caught, Oh God! We’re goingtogetcaught.”


“Shhh, it’s alright. Just act like this is normal.” Craig whispers back.


“What type of normal is going to a sex-shop?!” Tweek all but hysterically cries out but bites his lip when his statement gets into a higher-pitch.


“We’re from South Park, we eat Normal for breakfast.” Craig blandly jokes.


“Well, I rather have coffee instead. Bleh.” Tweek tuts.


Craig doesn’t realize that the two of them have been breezing past the storefront until the arrangements of all the products hits them. Really, really shoves itself in their face. There are rows of carefully arranged toys on one wall, packages printed with naked women, clear small bags filled with cock-rings and other smaller toys. There are selves neatly stacked with boxes of dildos and vibrators and their respective product in front, unpackaged. Another wall is covered in packages of costumes, with scantily-clad individuals posing devilishly. Cartons filled with bottles toting various flavors litter a corner and the rest of the walls have posters of nude individuals posed in provocative situations.


It’s a flood of sin in every speck of the room and Craig feels almost impressed about how much he doesn’t really give a shit about feeling embarrassment.


Tweek on the other hand, is much jumpier. “Oh jeez, what’s happening to that person overthere?” Pointing one finger up to a small print of DvDs set aside in a purple cardboard shelf.


“Think that’s a gangbang.” Craig stiffly answers, eyes roving over the image quickly.


“Oh Christ.” Tweek gasps, his hand over his open-mouth, eyes widened as his gaze focuses on the picture.


“Come on.” Craig tugs his boyfriend further into the shop, sliding towards the aisle hidden away from the register. They haven’t been ambushed by a salesperson yet, but purchasing any goods means that they will eventually have to interact with someone, which is possibly troubling if they get kicked out.


His eyes narrow at the array of choices. “Think we should start small and make our way up.”


“Um—s-sure?” Tweek stammers out, curling his fingers tighter in Craig’s grip. “What shit do we need?”


“Various sex-toys and lube.” Craig drawls, using his free hand to grab the packages to peer at their information written on the boxes. Everything is ridiculously colorful for some bizarre reason. The thick dildos and penis-pumps and anal beads and butt-plugs and vibrators are all neatly arranged like delicate Chinaware and he wants to snort. But its better if they don’t catch any flack from any curious ears, so he returns his attention to analyzing what’s in front of him.


“This one.” He says as he grabs one package of the shelf. “And this one. And that one.” He drops his partner’s hand just so he can hold the products and Tweek twitches, looking at them with an unreadable expression.


“Oh man, oh man. Are these going up my…?”


“Yeah.” Craig flatly replies. “If that’s cool for you?”


Tweek bites his lip, and the action instantly makes Craig interested. Teeth pushing down pink lips in a seductive manner is definitely not appropriate in this scenario. Sure, both of them are in a sex-shop but there are boundaries and rules that exist in this Retail Space.


“Okay.” Tweek softly says, his face drawing back to fix Craig with something coy written over his features. “I hope you treat me well.”


“I sooo will.” Craig responds, cocking his head and gesturing to other areas in the area. “Don’t forget the lube.”


“Hnng—I won’t ever let you. Not with my ass on the line.”


“Literally and figuratively.” Craig deadpans.


Tweek picks out a graciously stockily bottle of water-based lubricant, holding it close to his chest. Craig perks up when he sees thinner containers spouting flavored surprises in cheesy bright blocks of words close to the first product.


“And also these two.” Craig picks up a flavored bottle and one of the packages on the rack next to the carton. 


“Oh Gosh. Whatare we going to do with those?” Tweek squeaks out.


“We’ll think of something.” Craig shrugs.


“Sounds scary.” Tweek states.


“I promise to be gentle.” Craig reassures, gently bumping his hip against his boyfriend in a flirtatious manner and Tweek chokes back laughter.


There’s no one else lining up, and the bored sales assistant is absentmindedly at the both of two with an amused expression.


“Just these suga’?” She drawls in a thick-accent.


“Yeah just those.” Craig answers, plopping all the purchases on the counter, and grabs the cash stuck in his pockets.


“That’ll be two-hundred and five dollars and forty-five cents.” She breezes through as she packs everything discreetly in a brown paper bag.


Craig can feel Tweek shake a little, his body pitched against the former’s back. A gasp, maybe at the price, but Craig gives the scrunched up money without missing a beat and she takes it and punches the amount in.


“That’s four dollars and fifty-five cents change.” Plopping the remainder onto Craig’s outstretched hands to which he shoves the coins and notes into his pant’s pocket. “Have a lovely day you two. Enjoy your purchases.”


Tweek quietly squawks and Craig’a mouth quirks up just a tad. Oh, he definitely plans to make the most out of their shopping trip.


He takes the bag, shoves it into his backpack and grabs his boyfriend’s hand. Tweek’s hand is sweaty and warm, but Craig likes the feel of gripping his partner’s hand; it feels safe and familiar and Craig enjoys squeezing and getting squeezed back for reassurance.


They make their way back to a bus stop, and Craig sits on the bench. Tweek sits next to him, clutching his bag with tense fingers.


“Sooo, you good with the stuff at your house?” Craig asks.


“Um—ugh. I guess. Unless the underpants gnomes get to it.” Tweek responds.


“I doubt it, they won’t get into our stash because it’s not underpants.” Craig shrugs.


“Mmm—ack maybe.” Tweek sighs.


The bus pulls up and the two of them stumble on. Tweek’s hand is still sweaty but Craig is fine with it.


It’s warm.

Chapter Text

“I want you to sit on my face.”


Tweek almost falls off his bed, startled by the request. He’s teetering on the edge, gripping the bed sheets in scrunched up fists, looking intensely at Craig.


Said boyfriend looks cool as a cucumber, unruffled by his out-of-nowhere suggestion.


“Whatthefuck?” Tweek shrills but Craig remains unfazed. 


“I want you to sit on my face.” The other boy repeats blandly.


Tweek holds up his palm, “I heard you the first time—God. I mean, ugh. Why?”


“I want to eat you out.” Craig shrugs all nonchalantly like he just compared to his desire to explore his boyfriend’s rear end like he was going to consume chilled ice-cream.


“I’m—not a girl!” Tweek replies indignantly, puffing his cheeks cutely. 


“I know.” Craig flatly answers, “But you know what I mean.”


Tweek’s fingers fly to his hair, twisting into the flaxen locks. “But! It’s my ass! Isn’t that weird??”


“Nope.” Craig pops the p. “I’m going to be shoving my dick up there, so why not my tongue.”


Tweek shouldn’t find the complete blasé manner in which Craig utters the sinful request as hot, rolling the idea around his mouth like melting candy that lavishes his throat with ghostly tingles, but he does anyway. There might be a minuscule part of him that revels in the attention and the comment devoid of embarrassment, but Tweek likes to think he quells that voice down. Mostly.


“But, having your mouth there…ugh!” Tweek is still hesitant, nerves wracking his body.


“If you’re worried about cleanliness, there’s always douching. We can clean it out before I put my mouth down there.” Craig offers gently, watching his partner’s movements carefully.


“God! Um, I mean. I-I guess that works?” Tweek states, slowly creeping closer to Craig who is sitting on the edge of the bed. “But why all thesudden?”


“I want to taste you.” Craig says all smoothly, but this time the corners of his lips quirk up a little; an indicator that he isn’t completely innocent.


Tweek picks up the nearest pillow and whacks his lover with it. “Dude, not cool!”


Craig takes the feeble blow with a dry laugh, fending off the barrage of pillow attacks, and trying to keep his chortles in-check. Tweek’s jabs slowly lose in their impact from each whack and the blond boy finds himself snickering along and his arms hindered by Craig’s arms.


“Christ, you’re a dick.” Tweek lauds, as he finds his vowels slipping from his mouth. The taller boy’s expression softens with Craig brushing upon the blond’s curls.


“I’m enjoying myself. Aren’t you?” Craig quips.


“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” Tweek banters back, fidgeting with his fingernails scrapping across his own skin.


“Come on, let’s start.” The raven-head utters pulling his partner up from the bed and Tweek finds himself lurching forward only to be caught in Craig’s embrace. Tweek wipes away an invisible stain on his jeans, toeing his socked feet on the ground and looking nervously around the room.


“So what are you going to do?” Tweek asks carefully, as he watches Craig rummage in the other boy’s bag, pulling some objects out. A red small balloon device that ends with a thin stick captures his attention. Lube gets pulled out, Tweek recognizes it as the water-based bottle they bought at the Sex Shop.


“I’ll be cleaning you out with some water first. It’ll just wash out shit and what not.” Craig says plainly. “Do you want to move to the bathroom for this?” Craig asks and Tweek bites his lip.


“Augh—Okay, I guess. Is it going to get messy?” The two of them move to the bathroom, Craig gathers the materials needed and Tweek treads the ground slowly giving furtive glances to his boyfriend who returns with cool looks of indifference, squatting to the ground.


“Maybe. It’ll be easier for you to expel the liquid at least.” The raven-head answers, uncapping the bottle and letting the solution cover the stick. It glistens now and Tweek looks at it discreetly. It’s a lot thinner than Craig’s own penis, but it’s still going to be something to shove up his butt.


“Alright. Time to undress.” Craig talks and gestures to Tweek’s clothes. The blond boy sighs, but nods. His hands fall to his pants, twiddling with twitchy movements. The material gets tugged down by shaky fingers as Tweek notes Craig’s glances. The heated look makes him shiver, with a hotness blooming in his chest and cheeks as Craig gawks at the slow stripping scene with attentiveness. Black pants being replaced as bare skin shows instead and Tweek can see Craig audibly gulp from the transition. Tweek’s digs into his flesh, his nails leaving dents as he pinches his hips in order to grasp his underwear. It’s plain, just clean white underwear that wraps around crotch and ass but there’s something weighing it down in spirit.


Maybe it’s the held gaze Craig coolly has, directed at memorizing every piece of pale skin. The way that Craig looks from his eyelashes upwards to catch the white underwear slide down. It’s not the first time—not even close to themselves ridding their clothes in front of one and another—and yet a hidden eroticism blankets the room. Tension stings his skin, prickling the senses and Tweek feels the drumming of his heartbeat reverberate in his head. His tongue feels too heavy in his mouth, parched and the texture like sandpaper. Craig stares silently, but Tweek knows that there’s an emotion stirring in those depths of the blue eyes levelling into his existence.


The white fabric flops to the floor, the sound of it thudding in his eardrums. Everything is hypersensitive to his mind; the sudden chill that pricks his legs, the indifferent stare Craig focuses on Tweek’s crotch, the feather-tip touches of the kneeling boy’s fingers across knobby kneecaps sliding upwards and smoothing over the exposed skin. Tweek doesn’t know if he’s breathing, he should be, the way that his brain is still running indicates that there’s a semblance of thought running and he’s still in control of his body.


“Sit on the toilet alright?” Craig says as he taps Tweek’s thighs.


“Should I—uh. Take off my shirt?” Tweek splutters, tugging at the green material.


“No it’s okay, you might get cold. Just hold it up if you think you might get it dirty.” Craig answers, as he gets up and fills the red part of the device with water. “Alright, legs up.”


Tweek sits down on the toilet seat, the ceramic texture is cold against his bare skin and he can’t help but quiver on the support. He leans back, his knees being pulled up as he exposes himself. His ass is out for display, and it’s weird. The sensation of the cool air brushing over his softened penis and his rim. Craig has one hand grasping the apparatus while the other is pumping some clear lube onto his fingers. There’s a lot, covering his bronze digits and it's its tracing the ring of muscle. The coldness hits him for a second, then as the fingers push forward, Tweek can’t help but gasp.


“Are you alright?” Craig queries as he stops in his actions, worried and watching his partner’s eyes.


“Yeah! I-I’m all good.” Tweek buzzes out, biting his bottom lip with nervousness.” It wasjust a new feeling.”


“Alright, I’m going to be squeezing the water in now. After I’m finished, go and release the liquid in the toilet. We’re keep going until you’re clear.” Craig explains.


Water. Right. It’s crisp, the water that gets inserted into his asshole and it’s an even stranger feeling that brings out a raw emotion swirling in this heart. Vulnerability yet mixed with a sweet taste of power from how he looks down to his partner. Craig holds Tweek’s calf with one hand while the other squeezes the device, the red balloon deflating rapidly as the water gets pumped inside the sitting boy. The movement is quick, nothing is spoken in between during this time and Tweek wants to just stare at the ceiling to avoid his boyfriend’s blank expression.


“Alright. Now your turn.” Craig implores.


“Ugh—Yeah okay. My turn.” Tweek stammers. He releases the liquid stored in his rectum and it flows out. It’s not as clear as he hoped it would be, so Craig fills it up again with tap water.


The water is inserted again and Tweeks find it not as scary the second time. He holds it in, as Craig politely avoids Tweek’s burning stare. It’s expelled again, and this time it’s clearer than before. Craig mutters once again just for making sure on the third try, and the device is filled again, inserted, held and then expelled.


“How are we feeling?” Craig gently asks.


“Um? Better I guess?” Tweek replies as he wrings his hands in front of him. “Are you going to go downonme now?”


“Not yet. Shower first.” Craig answers and he starts to strip off his clothes. Tweek unbuttons his shirt and folds it into a neat parcel. Blue clothes being put next to the green shirt. The chullo on top, like a cherry on the peak of the cake.


Hot water cascades on the two of them. Tweek closes his eyes as the water splashes on his face, the enveloping feeling makes him sigh. Craig’s hands are soothing as they run through dripping blond hair, massaging his scalp and Tweek hums a satisfied sound. He can feel Craig’s taller body pressed against his smaller form and it feels nice. Protective, warm and comforting.


“Use some soap to clean yourself, alright babe?” Craig murmurs in the echoing room and Tweek nods, drops of water flying from his face. He grabs his bar of soap and lets it get drenched under the shower-head. He uses it to clean himself, soaping himself up and letting the water run down his legs. Craig takes this time to wash himself, and Tweek finds the action insanely domestic that he can’t help but giggle as drops of water tap his mouth.


“Okay time to get out. The water is going to get cold soon.” Craig declares and Tweek wants to whine but he understands. Staying too long makes his skin pruney and Tweek hates it because he always starts to pick it, and when he does, Craig doesn’t like the way that his partner’s skin is all red and cut.


They dry themselves, using some towels and put on their clothes. Tweek finds himself lethargic but also strangely content. He’s still physically jittery, but there’s also a calming emotion blanketing his mind.  


“So, are you going to…?” Tweek trails off.


“Someone’s eager.” Craig jokes.


“ACK! N-not what I meant.” Tweek fires back. “Just because you wanted to so much I thought y’know. You would be jumping on me as soon as possible.”


“Do you want me to jump you?” Craig whispers, grabbing a small towel and rubbing it across blond locks in a haste to make it drier.


“Maybe. I do kinda like it when you’re confident.” Tweek mutters back. Soft like a secret. “When you look at me like you want to devour me, I.” He swallows. “I like it. It makes me feel special—uhh. And not the bad special. The good special.”


“Then I’ll always make sure you feel special.” Craig promises. “Not yet, but we will today. Alright?” And he kisses his mouth against Tweek’s forehead.


They do homework. Tweek with history, Craig with physics. It’s a few hours of just working on scribbling paper with sips of water being shared between them. It’s nice, but really Tweek knows that they’re just pushing the inevitable. He can feel Craig’s hefty stare, and the blond boy chews his pencil in retaliation.  


This push and pull the two of them share electrifies the room, Tweek could almost taste Craig’s excitement from across the table; he savors it as heavenly, delicious and yet invisible.


Craig looks at him, with adoration. But also with an animalistic hunger.


“Now?” Craig said huskily.


“Yeah.” Tweek nods, a little too eagerly, his mouth curled as he scrambles onto the bed. He lays down, his nerves flaring up again as he digs his fingers into the sheets. Waiting and stationary for the next move.


“Clothes off again.” Craig mutters, as he opens his bag and grabs something else. It’s the other bottle they bought. The bottle is brightly colored, pink and red with a clear plastic wrapping that has bold white letters decorated over the container.


Tweek shimmies off his pants, tucking it into a pile onto the foot of his bed. His shirt comes off next, and the room is warm enough that he doesn’t shiver; not with the heater giving off its comforting embrace wrapping around his body. Underwear is pulled off again, neatly folded and he has a momentary epiphany about the comment he made with the girls and about his ass. About cannibalism.


He’s hoping Craig doesn’t actually take a bite out of it (he’s rather fond of his ass being intact and working so y’know).  Here’s to new experiences.


“Let me take off my shirt and then I’ll lie down, cool?”


“Yeah, that’s fine—ack!” Tweek kneels on the left part of the bed, legs apart like he’s straddling one of those mechanical bulls he’s seen in the more redneck parts of the town. Not that he would have any experience on those, because really? The movements of the robotic devices scared the shit out of him, and there were so many chances where someone could be thrown off and killed by it. Why did people still ride them anyway???


Life’s mysteries.


Craig is shirtless now, stretching his triceps like he’s going to be doing some exercise. The taller boy’s muscles ripple and strain against the action and God-fucking-damn does Tweek feel his stomach do flips as he focuses his attention on his lover’s torso. Craig wasn’t kidding when he said he started going to the gym. It was evident that his partner was shaping up and it seemed the joke about being held up against a wall was beginning to be less of a humorous suggestion and more like a possible maneuver.


God he hoped it was.


“Alright, time for you to get your ass over here.” Craig calls as he makes himself comfortable with a pillow underneath his head.


“Gah! Are you sure? What if I accidentallyfall and I squish you and you stop breathing because of me, and we need to go to Hells Pass just to revive you and everyone is going to know about what we’re doing and oh Jesus Christ, no one is ever going to let that be forgotten because here lies Craig Tucker, death by asphyxiation by ass an—“


“—Tweek it’s alright. You won’t kill me.” Craig interrupts looking solemn and serious. “And even if you did, I’m fine with going that way.” Tweek screeches, his legs shaking. Craig gestures to his face with one hand and the shorter boy narrows his eyes. “Tweek, seriously it’s fine. We’re just take it slowly.”


“FINE! Fine! Okay—Ugh! I got it.” Tweek huffs out, lifting himself up and awkwardly stands up on his side of the bed, balancing nervously with both feet planted down, before he shuffles over and begins to squat over his partner’s face. “Jesus Christ, I feel stupid.” He shuffles himself over Craig’s torso and movs up to plant his ass just gently against his partner’s collarbones. His boyfriend has his elbows tucked by his sides, and looks upwards silently in thought.


“I’m almost tempted to make some backing truck noises, but nah.” Craig mumbles and Tweek gives a haughty look over his shoulder.


“You’re not making your situationbetter dude.” Tweek pouts. At this point, his ass is hovering directly over Craig’s face and the blond boy could feel warm puffs of air being expelled into his rim. Fuck this was weird.


“Hold on, I’ll open you up first.” Craig’s muffled words rumbles underneath Tweek and the shorter boy blinks rapidly from the statement.


“Uh…?” Tweek trails off, hearing the sound of something being uncapped and the high-pitched squeeze of lube being smeared on fingers. It takes only a few seconds later before the feeling of wet fingers penetrates his ass, shaking Tweek out of his reverie and he holds off a squeak threatening to escape his lips.


“Just to make it easier for my tongue, alright honey?” Craig spoke, as the digits slowly scissored Tweek’s rear end, sloppily wetting the area with the cool liquid. “You ready now?”


“Sure?! I guess. Oh, God what if you hate it? What if you hate me for it??” Tweek quickly fires out.


“First of all, I asked for it. Second, if it tastes like ass, I’m pretty sure I’m at the right place. And thirdly, the lube is flavored so, worse case scenario I’ll just taste artificial cherry.” Craig smoothly answers back, his hands gripping a buttcheek each with his thumbs stretching the entrance. “Bless us, O Lord for thy gifts we receive for this booty. Amen.”


Softly, the blond feels a kiss aimed at his hole, and gentle brushes of Craig’s lips against his rear. Steadily, there is growing pressure of his boyfriend’s mouth against the rim and Tweek heavily swallows as he feels extra wetness spreading across his ass.


Tweek fumbles as Craig’s tongue finally enters his asshole, the feel of a wet muscle straining his intimate area was seriously fucking weird. Dimly, he thinks of what had just occurred. Did Craig just do what he thought he did?


“Did you just say thanks for my ass? Are you actually to eat me?” Tweek screams, a worried sentence that breaks off into garbled moans as the tongue trails around his rim; slathering spit and teasing the anal muscle making Tweek feel himself getting weak. Craig’s tongue changes from a flat sensation flickering the rim to probing inside, and Tweek couldn’t help but shake and tremble, words leaving his mouth in breathless rants. “Oh God, um, Jesus. I-I, shit. Ack, I can’t.”


He scrunches his fist into his mouth, the torment of what is occurring underneath making him dizzy and delirious.  He feels a pause as Craig leaves his ministrations, softened words piercing the silence as Tweek whines.


“Come on babe. I want to hear you.”


Tweek clears his throat, all clogged up from spit as he nods. “I will, I will. Just, please get back to what you were doing before. Please.”


He is pretty sure he can feel Craig’s mouth curling into a smirk underneath, but his boyfriend says nothing and the taller boy resumes, tongue teasing and twisting inside Tweek. Moans, low and high-pitched, spills out of his mouth which could not be contained as he writhes and pushes his knees deeper into the bed, his toes curling up as Craig continues his messy tirade.


“Craig, OhGodohgodohgod.” Tweek mumbles out in sweet agony. “Please, for all that is Good and Holy, fucking touch me.”


“Ask and ye shall receive.” Craig’s muffled comment made Tweek twitch. He feels the soft wetness of the tongue move as the other boy lifts the shorter boy up a little and now kitten licks get directed at his hanging balls.


“Oh. Oh! That feels really nice. Oh my God.” Tweek rambles as he feels Craig touch his hard-on, rubbing his lubed up fingers across his erection. When did that happen?


“You’re so pliant under me.” Craig mutters underneath, “Fuck, I love how vocal you are.”


“I wanto come. Can I? Please Craig, please!” Tweek almost sobs out as he feels his lover lightly laugh from the request.


“Of course.” Craig’s grip on the sobbing boy’s prick quickens in pumps and with the treatment to his rear, Tweek feels his orgasm overwhelm him in an instant. With a shout he ejaculates into his boyfriend’s hand. Panting from the experience, his limbs feels heavy as he rolls over to lie on the bed, the wind knocked-out of him.


“I think you ruined me.” Tweek says as he closes his eyes. He hears the chuckle escape Craig’s mouth. An amused snort echoed in the room as the bed creaks when the other boy stretches and stands up. Tweek hears a jumbled mess of ‘And who was saying that it would turn out bad’ come from his boyfriend’s mouth but the blond boy is too tired to sass back.


“I’ll be at the bathroom. Give me a second.”


“Be back soon.” Tweek mumbles under his breath.


“I will. Don’t worry.” Craig states, looking pensively at his partner drifting off. “Hey maybe next time I can felch you.





It always seemed strange when everyone in the year was huddled in their school’s auditorium. Sure, it was normal during Elementary School but people grew up taller and wider and seats often didn’t change in width.


Tweek was getting so major flashbacks to the huddled mess of Elementary assemblies, but at least the construction of the High School was larger. Relatively.


“Alright listen girls, boys.” Principal Elizabeth spoke into her microphone. “I have some good news and bad news.” Her lips thinned, “I’ve decided to explain the good news first, because you can’t have happiness without some sadness.”


Craig nudged his shoulder just as Tweek felt himself nod off. It had been a rough night, with an English paper due yesterday that he had stayed up all night finishing, making sure things were correctly formatted and actually answering the question. That and he was helping Craig with brainstorming the points for his essay as well. Multi-tasking; writing while he was drinking coffee like his life depended on it.   


Not that was too different from his usual school stress. Except that Tweek was not going to let Craig lose easy marks. The Denver Dream was something that he supported, and he was going to try his damnest to be a great boyfriend and make sure that Craig would be able to apply for a scholarship to make his college life smoother. His boyfriend deserved it completely and Tweek would make sure that Craig would learn all the necessary quotes like the back of his hand by the time finals rolled over.


“The good news is that Junior Prom will be occurring sometime in the next few months.” Principal Elizabeth gently delivered.


The wave of students broke into instant chatter but the Principal waved her hands interrupting with a screeching sound of the microphone squealing, “—If we manage to raise the needed money to fund it. Because there have been some cuts to our school budget and it is with great concern that we may not be able to run if our financial goal is not met. That is the bad news.”


“Oh jeez, what the hell?” Tweek muttered as Craig looked blankly at the rest of the student’s horrified faces.


“So what are we supposed to do?” Tweek heard a voice raise above the ruckus, and Tweek perked his head as he recognized it to be Kyle’s. The miffed teen was looking very tight-lipped and cross as he directed his question at the adult in the room.


“There is the option for a Fundraiser to acquire the necessary funds.” Principal Elizabeth answered. “The Student Assembly can decide on how it can be set-up and if successful, Junior Prom would run as it should.”


Craig mumbled something under his breath, something suspiciously like ‘getting us to do all the dirty work of course, fucking dipshits’ but Tweek ignored it, being more interested to observe how everyone looked horrified at the prospect of cancelling Junior Prom.


“Maybe you could do a cake-sale or something of that sorts. An organic market supported by students to encourage small-business explorations against big Corporation domination.” The headmaster suggested casually.


The row in front of Tweek turned around to face him, and so did the one ahead, the other beyond on that as well.


“What?! Why iseveryone looking at me??” Tweek screamed as multiple eyes landed on him, piercing into his eyes and draining his soul with every expectant stare.


“Well shit.” Craig plainly said.




There’s flour everywhere. No, scratch that. There’s just a lot of flour on him. When Tweek gives a cursory peek from his mixing bowl, he sees how the white dust has been unceremoniously splattered on his hair—at least according to a quick glance at his reflection from the metal bowl, his apron (that he borrowed from Token), his green sleeves which had been rolled up and on his shoes as well. He’s pretty sure he looks like a right mess, but again, not too far from the usual.


“I think the next batch is ready to be decorated.” Token injects, flour-less as Tweek shakes his head from his thoughts.


“Uh! Y-yeah! Alright, take them out fromtheoven, and get started on that.” Tweek squeaks out, giving a careful look at the warm glow from the oven with stacks of baked goods having just finished being raised into a crisp golden brown color.


“Aye Aye.” Clyde mockingly salutes, but it’s in good will, as he sends a smile to accompany the gesture. “What flavor are we doing for these ones?”


“Mint! Thatone is the mint batch. There’s some silver edible balls and wecanuse the sugar flowers for some extra—nng c-color.” Tweek delegates as he throws his arms up to point at the needed icing and delicious decorations that will be used for the cupcake batch.


“I’m done with the c-c-c-c-cookie cutter, should we put the next ones in now?” Jimmy asks from the other side of the room on the kitchen table, projecting his voice over the sound of the shrill of the oven opening.


“Sure—Ack. Yeah. Put them on the tray, butoil it up first. And don’t forget the sheet.” Tweek answers.


“That’s what she said.” Clyde snorts and Token shakes his head from exasperation, having been right next to the former when the joke had been uttered.


“Terrible.” Craig chides in a monotone voice.


“Well I’m sorry, Dad, that my humor doesn’t live up to your expectations.” Clyde scoffs good-heartily.


Tweek almost spills the mixture that he’s gripping, his hands tightly wrapped around the wooden spoon he’s been using to tend to the dough. “What!!” He loudly intervenes, giving a wide-eyed expression to the brown-haired boy.


“Don’t you think guys agree that this is super domestic and shit?” Clyde smirks, as he waves the icing bag dangerously around and Tweek frantically follows it with his eyes to make sure Clyde doesn’t accidentally squeeze the poor bag. His words soften. “With like a Mom and Dad scenario and the kids helping out.”


“Less yapping, more icing. Also watch where you’re throwing your icing bag.” Craig clicks his tongue in annoyance.


“Whatever.” Clyde pouts, but there’s an edge to his words as he grumbles to himself. “I hope the stick up your ass gets removed for Tweek’s—“


“We are not talking about dicks while we’re in my kitchen. This is a pure space, for food.” Token hurriedly states as he squints at Clyde’s darkened mood.


“No promises.” Clyde replies in a forced sing-song tone, and Tweek rolls his eyes.


He returns back to his mixing, seeing how the flour, milk, sugar, yeast and vanilla extract blend together into a smooth texture. Satisfied, he takes out the cupcake tray and scoops a generous amount of the goop with his spoon and plops it into each hole until the bowl is scrapped with only thin residue left.


“After Jimmy’s cookies are done, these willbegoinginext.” He says to Craig who wordlessly takes the container and places it on the surface next to the oven for queuing.


“Uh, where do you keep your jam?” Tweek questions.


“Up there, the cupboard next to the microwave.” Token answers as he raises his head to gesture at the place.


“Ugh—t-thanks.” Tweek replies, knowing that there’s no way he’ll be able to reach it. He tries anyway, on his tip-toes reaching with his hand, straining his arm. Suddenly, he feels himself get lifted up, with arms wrapped around his torso as he his body get boosted. He looks behind his shoulder and Craig stares back at him, giving a blank stare with only a quirked eyebrow as a response. Tweek huffs back, but opens the cupboard and takes out the jar with the strawberry jam that he wanted.


Tweek comes back to the ground, his feet firmly planted on the stable ground, and he grips the glass jar. He also nearly drops it when Craig pats his ass.


They’ve been at it the whole day. They meaning Craig and the guys, with everyone chipping in their time to produce enough baked goods for the Fundraiser Fair tomorrow. It seemed to be universally accepted that Tweek was going to be in charge of making enough pastries to sell so that the class could raise the money for Junior Prom. Because the school was cheap like that. Assholes.


Already they had quite a lot of boxes finished with scrumptious looking goodies baked, decorated lovingly and topped off with tiny adorable sugary goodness. Tweek was half expecting the town to get diabetic with just the sheer amount of sugar that these things had.


God, he hopes he doesn’t kill anyone from how disgustingly drenched in sugar his baked good became.


Although, there is also a section he decided on creating sugar-free stock, which had to look online for various recipes because people nowadays were interested in cutting sugar from their diets and Tweek realized he had to adapt or perish. Sort of.


He knows that there’s a market for sugar-free goods. Wasn’t Kyle diabetic? Tweek scrunches his nose up in thought. Yeah, he was pretty sure he witnessed Kyle use an insulin pen. Or was it Stan that administrated it? Tweek couldn’t remember properly, but whether Kyle used it himself or got his best friend—or uh, was it boyfriend, he didn’t know, they seemed like they could, but again, he wasn’t sure if they were?


Anyway. Market. Like what his Dad used to say, “the Customer is always right until they’re not”, which from some careful reflection didn’t really make sense, because, what did that mean??


Something about supplying the demand for what the people want, he thinks Craig explained it once, when they were watching something about the impact of capitalistic consumption.


Something bumps into him, and he blinks rapidly, his thoughts vanished.


“Are you alright?” Craig asks softly, his eyes holding concern as he looks at Tweek. “You were looking into the distance for a while.”


“Y-yeah. I’m fine. Just thinking.” Tweek answers, sweeping his hands into his hair absentmindedly. Oh, that’s probably how he got flour there.


“Do you need some coffee? We can use Token’s coffee machine.” Craig asserts confidently.


“Uh, do you think he’ll mind?” Tweek challenges a little more cautious.


“No.” Craig says strongly. “Friends help each other out.”


Tweek observes Clyde and Token still deeply invested adorning the cupcakes. Jimmy stands next to them, as the three of them joke and chit-chat. Token’s shakes powdered sugar on a previously cooked batch of cookies; gingerbread men, women and children with pastel buttons on their torso and white iced smiles. Clyde’s humming a tune—Tweek thinks its All Star, while spreading bright green cream onto the bare cupcakes with garnish of rainbow sprinkles. Jimmy places the finished delicacies into the cake-boxes that they’ve prepared to transport them for tomorrow. Token had said he would get it driven over which is why they decided to keeping the treats at his house. That, and his kitchen is massive. There’s the sun shining through the window door to the garden, and the aroma of freshly baked goodies drenching the air.


“Why didn't the ch-ch-chi—chicken cross the road?” Jimmy asks.


“Dunno, there’s a ton of different answers to that set-up.” Clyde answers back, half-intrigued by his friend’s joke. “Which one is it going to be?”


“Because he was disabled.” Jimmy croons back.


Token doesn’t seem to look up, not when Tweek walks to the coffee machine and starts the machine. Not when he makes the coffee, and he sips at it. The burning feeling giving him the energy that flows throughout his body.


“Better honey?” Craig asks, rubbing his hand against Tweek’s arm.


“Mmmm, y-yeah? I’m better.” Tweek nods, but he fidgets when his boyfriend spreads the flour powdered on the blond boy onto himself. “You’re going to get dirty from alltheflour on me—ugh.”


“I don’t care.” Craig casually indicates with indifference. “Getting dirty with you is okay with me.”


Oh, okay. Tweek swallows the warm liquid in his mouth, and he flushes from the implication that Craig drops. He lifts his head and his eyes catch Craig using one finger to scoop at the cupcake containers and takes a flick of the uncooked dough.


“Hey—UH! Don’t you dare..!” Tweek admonishes as he widens his eyes.


“Oops?” Craig licks the dollop of batter without battering an eye, sinking it into his mouth and leaving a silvery trail of spit between his finger and his mouth.


“Now you’re going to die from bacteria! Oh God, we’re going to need to send you to the hospital and, and—“


“I’ve eaten worse.” Craig answers smoothly, almost mischievous in his gaze as he ghosts his breath over Tweek’s mouth.


“Oh eew, I think Mom and Dad are flirting over there.” Clyde intones with farce annoyance.


“Both of you please keep your dicks in your pants.” Token tuts, resting his icing bag on the table. “Remember, Kitchen. I eat here.”


“T-t-t-t-technically that would be eating too. Just not what yours are like.” Jimmy drops his infamous one-liners.


Jimmy gives a sly smile. Clyde chuckles. Token sighs. Tweek squeaks. Craig shrugs.


“Jimmy. Stop it. I’m going to look at breakfast differently now.” Token groans.


Tweek yelps, avoiding his gaze from Craig’s heated stare. Craig hums, seemingly content, wrapping his hand around Tweek’s and giving a quick squeeze.


“Aww look at how cute they are. I’m going to puke from how sweet you guys are.” Clyde mimes gagging and Token laughs.


“Fine. I’ll agree with that. They are cute.”


“I bet that the two of them will be P-p-p-p-prom Emperor and Overlord.” Jimmy frowns, “That’s not as catchy anymore.”


“I’m sure they would change it up.” Token explains, “As long as we manage to make enough for it run.”


“Alright, I think we’re done with this batch. The cookies are nearly cooked. And there’s one more cupcake batch and we should be done.” Craig intervenes, moving everyone back on track.


“Oh good finally.” Cylde pumps his fist into the air. “I can’t wait to eat my payment for helping out.”


“And here I thought you were here for being a bro.” Token muses, finishing the last pinch of the minty flavor on the final cupcake in front of him with a flourish.


“That too.” Clyde smirks, plucking a silverball and plopping in his mouth, chewing the sugar ball and crunching the sweet with a wide grin.


“Good food, better co-co-co-co-company.” Jimmy wisecracks as he changes the tray inside the oven and swaps it for the unbaked containers.


“Nearly done.” Craig murmurs into Tweek’s ear, “Once we’re done, you want to have dinner at my place?”


“Yes. I’ll like that.” Tweek gently beams, the blond boy’s spirts lifted as Craig seems pleased by his boyfriend’s answer.


The time passes quickly. He’s having fun with everyone, as they all help him out with the task-at-hand. The baked goods are kept at Token’s place, neatly wrapped in white cardboard boxes with a ribbon keeping everything in-tact. They made a lot. Like, really a lot.


Well, better for the school right?


He’s currently in Craig’s bathroom, staring at himself in the mirror. There’s spots of flour scattered everywhere, and he wipes a wet towel over his exposed skin. As he observes his appearance, he nods before dropping into the shower for a quick wash. Then finishing as he comes out, squeaky-clean. His skin is a little pink now, from how he’s scrubbed to get rid of the flour. His flesh feels hot, from the water from the showerhead, and his stomach rumbles. Food. Dinner would be good. Especially after constantly smelling baked goodies for the whole day. There’s an appetite somewhere.


“I’ll go wash your clothes, that cool?” Craig pokes his head into the room, and Tweek cocks his head, nodding.


“Y-yeah, that’s fine!” Tweek huffs out, passing his flour-stricken clothes to his boyfriend.


“Thanks.” Craig smirks, and replaces Tweek’s replacement clothes with a blue long-sleeved shirt and gray sweatpants.


The clothes are a little bigger, which makes sense, since they are Craig’s. The sleeves fall pass his hands, and he has to fold them up until they’re around his elbows. The sweatpants are comfortable at least, and he can move around easily enough.


He stumbles down the stairs, and dinner is already set up with the plates, knifes and forks and glasses neatly arranged, and a seat is empty. Tweek guesses it’s his place. He sits down, clasping his hands together. Craig’s dad begins to say Grace, and Tweek has to keep his head down, his cheeks burning as his boyfriend’s snickers.


“Amen.” Everyone choruses. And they start to eat.


He scoops some peas onto his plate, water is poured into his glass and he stabs at the vegetables with shaky hands. The carrots are steamed, and he grabs a few, poking at them before he takes a bite out of the orange stuff. Chewing, and swallowing and sending it down with some water.


It’s not bad. It’s been a while since he’s eaten. And food is technically important.


“So, how was your day Tweek?” Craig’s mom politely questions, holding her utensils against her plate.


“F-fine—urk! We were baking today, f-for the Fundraiser tomorrow.” Tweek comments. “Thanks for letting me use your bathroom—ack. I-I appreciate it!”


“It’s quite alright. Cleaning yourself up is not a big problem.” Criag’s mom conveys.


“I just got dirty from today’s activities.” Tweek expresses. Tricia coughs, sending a shit-eating grin to the blond. “Dirty from baking! Of course, nothing else!”


Craig flips his sister off instinctually, and Tricia responds with her own bird.


“Sureee.” Tricia enunciates, mumbling under her breath just shy of being loud enough for Craig’s parents to hear. “Just good wholesome baking. No buns in the oven happening at all.”


Tweek chokes on his peas.


Chapter Text

The final piece was complete.


He fixed his collar, straightened his navy tie with careful fingers and tugged his chullo down just a little more over his black curls. As he peered back at his reflection, the image illustrated a trimmed and cut look, with an air of religious responsibility.




Religious enough that his Sunday best was being used as a party prop. He just had to make sure it didn't get dirty from tonight.

It was all in the name of artistic flair. He definitely would get some extra points for legitimacy.

Patting his smart pants to wipe away invisible stains was the only sign one could guess that he felt restless. His face held a blank expression as always and the inflection in his tone stayed consistent as he reviewed the plan tonight.

A crash reverberated in the bathroom and his train of thought shattered as he was whisked back to Earth.

"Are you alright there honey?" Craig asked, his hands hovered over his collar as he smoothed out the white cuff for the last time.  


"FINE! Mostly! Um--you think the pitchfork would be safer after we baby-proofed it--but it's still pretty dangerous." The voice inside the locked room shouted back, muffled as it slipped out from the crack of the door.


"Are you done dressing?" Craig smoothly jibbed, walking to the door and placed his hands around the door knob. "I'm coming in to check."

He did not give enough time for his boyfriend to answer as he turned the knob faster than one could say 'Fuck off'.

Rested in Tweek's blond bird-nest of hair were short crimson horns reaching up to meet the ceiling with a delicate curve posturing each object. Grasped tightly between pale fingers was a maroon colored pitchfork, the two of them made out of an unused garden equipment, wrapped in tape and painted in a sticky red the same hue as Satan’s skin. The ends of the three thin sticks were protected by pastel colored rice foam from anyone being stabbed, in the name of making a joke about roasting marshmallows over Hell. What could he say? Tweek and he had a sardonic sense of humor.

"You look good." Craig genuinely complimented watching as Tweek almost puffed his chest in pride from his craftsmanship of fumbling together an ensemble for tonight. The long red rope ending with a soft plush-like arrow swished with Tweek's movement as the boy turned around like he was twirling an invisible flowing skirt rippling in the wind.

Said boyfriend cocked his head, "So do you. Mr- ah -Pastor."


"It's Youth Pastor actually." Craig corrected.


"Whatever." Tweek tossed an unreadable expression. "Is Stripe-uhh, dressed yet?"


"Not yet." Craig admitted. "Going now."


Tweek hummed, twiddling with the pitchfork idly with his hands. "Be quick then, party starts soon,"


Craig nodded, ducking his head to press a dry kiss to Tweek's forehead, drawing a snort from the shorter boy who shuffled his partner out the door, "come on, stop dawdling."

Coaxing Stripe into her costume was harder than he thought it would take. She peered at the costume with as much distaste as her small face could portray, scuttling away when Craig drew closer with the costume in-hand.


"Stipe, come on girl. It's just for a few hours. I promise I'll treat you with some fresh peaches as a reward."

'Bribery more like' a voice echoed in his head that sounded strangely like Tweek's.

Wrangling Stripe into her designated cloth took more than a few tries. At one point she left her cage and scurried around the room, unwilling to stay still so he could nab her and at this point, force the costume over her.


Tweek stopped next to him after various failed attempts. "Looks like you're doing well." His sarcasm oozed out.


Craig squashed a need to groan from exasperation. "She keeps running away."


"Stripe! It's Tweek. Do you think you could come out for a moment?"

For a beat everything was still. Then with tiny soft pats, Stripe emerged from her hiding place. Thrusting her nose into the air as she sniffed the atmosphere.


"Listen. Craig and I are going to a Halloween party and we're all dressed up. We wouldwantyou to come as well, ah--but that means you have to put on something. It's a costume party-ack. So could you stay still--just. For a second please?" Tweek pleaded politely, his palms up like he was placating a wild animal.

Stripe blinked her beady black eyes at Tweek. Then she scampered forward, until the blond scooped her up and she squeaked; chirping noises that let it be believed she had been convinced.


"She likes me better." There was smugness laced in Tweek's statement.


"That's just cruel. And a little rude." Craig retorted.


"Hey. Parents have favorites. So--ugh, I would expect kids to like one parent more." Tweek waved his free hand while the other held Stripe.


"Can't believe you would be the favorite parent." Miffed, Craig looked strangely at his boyfriend.


"Oh fucking suck it up." Tweek stuck out his tongue in a mischievous manner.


Craig tugged the costume over the small animal's body, pulling the white fabric until her tiny face popped out, sniffing at his fingers. "Just a moment. And there." He muttered as he placed the pullover her head, the plastic halo hovering above as it glinted under the ceiling light.


"You look fantastic." Craig dryly stated as he thumbed Stripe's paws through the arm holes in the ensemble the small animal was being adorned with. She squeaked back, with a haughtiness that Craig almost raised an eyebrow at. "Just who did you get your terrible temper from?"


"No pointing fingers. Come on. Help me with my wings." Tweek admonished from the sidelines. "You look great Stripe!" He cooed as an afterthought, head poised thoughtfully. Craig placed Stripe on the sidelines as she watched over the scene.


"I do everything in this household." Craig mockingly grumbled, throwing his hands in the air.


"Succccck it." Tweek repeatedly quipped, with his hands holding onto the set of red devil wings the two of them poured their time and energy over. "Now help me with my wings."


"Snappy aren't you?" Craig muttered under his breath, mostly out of jest. His pride was still a little wounded from the previous situation so if he glared a little bit much to his boyfriend, Tweek didn't react, other than the way he rolled his eyes.

Carefully slipping the arm harness they made with the wings was easy enough. Making sure it didn't slip off wasn't another issue. They had used old straps and stuck on the material with the cardboard wings they had cut, painted and hot-glued-gunned to the straps. They tightened the new straps against Tweek's torso, but it didn't look as nice with the blunt black strap across the boy's chest sticking out like a sore thumb. Still, it was better than him moving around and having the wings slip off and be ruined after so many hours spent on the project.


“Watch where you’re poking!” Tweek berated jokingly, his arms slung up when Craig looped the straps across his partner’s shoulders. “ I’m really delicate and I appreciate you not trying to stab my eyes out!”


“You.” Craig mocked. “Delicate? Please, you could knock me out if you really wanted to. As history has shown. As cute as a deer, as fearless as a honey badger.”

Tweek rolled his eyes, “What’s with all the animal comparisons man?”


Craig clipped the straps across his partner’s chest snap, and stared down to meet Tweek’s prying expression, “Dunno. Just a feeling.” He gave a firm tug on the straps. “How do they feel? Too tight? Too loose?”


Tweek gave a quick nod at the feel of harness across his torso. “It’s fine—um. Just right.”


“Good, we put too much effort into this to fall apart.” Craig expressed as he gave the pitchfork back to his partner.


“Definitely.” Tweek agreed. The shorter boy handed the microphone prop to his boyfriend and Craig thanked his partner with a soft thanks. Stripe squeaked for attention, and the taller boy swirled around to allow his pet to huddle into the crook of his arm.


“We done?” Craig mentally checked off the things they had planned for tonight. Token had said all they needed was to bring themselves with refreshments and activities planned at the small party.


“Yeah, I’ve got everything!” Tweek gave one spin before he flashed a brilliant smile.”I’m excited to see what everyone else is gonna dress up as.”




Draped across the bare elongated fingers of bark were brightly colored triangle-banners of warm autumn shades, highlighting the emptiness of the current sprawling trees encompassing South Park at this time of the year.

The chill in the night air had picked up, a shivering breeze that whoosed past the flapping decorations in the chaotic mess that was outdoor Halloween decorations. A wave of loud boisterous laughter and chatter swept through the mob of individuals gathered in front of Token’s house. Fairy lights in the shape of tiny translucent skulls slowly dimmed and lit in timing of a resting heartbeat. There were stringy fake cobwebs scattering the area – accompanied by shiny plastic spiders the size of a footballs as the centerpieces of creepy horror. High-pitched irritating squealing reverberated as giggly girls mockingly gasped and reacted to the array of additions to the normally well-trimmed and tidy front-lawn. Girls. Why the hell were there so many girls here?


“Oh-jeez. There’s soso-so many people here.” Tweek scrunched his nose as he peered nervously around the vicinity. “Wh-Why is there so many people here – I thought, thiswas supposedtobe a private party?”


“Huh.” Craig paused, as he scrutinized at the intricate costumes, lavish cloths of creamy textures and flowing wisps of lace and props, in contrast to the presence of cheap, hacked-together outfits like a rabid dog ripped it apart, and some poor bastard tried to piece it together blindfolded. And limbless.

It was also much more crowded than it should have been. “It was a private party. At least that was what the invitation posted on Facebook said.” The taller boy gave a cursory catalogue on who he could recognize in the sea of gaudy and glittery Halloween costumes. A few faces here and there. A couple of seniors he knew by name due to their presence as a customer during work. A nod here and there on some of the individuals he did recognize. The Youth Pastor knocked on the door several times, hoping Token could remedy the current situation.

Craig spied Jason White among the crowd, wearing a fitting Jason Voorhees costume with the hockey mask decorated in faint blood splatters gingerly in one-hand as the other raised a flimsy machete at Craig’s presence.

The Youth Pastor caught the gaze of Dougie O’Connell, wrapped in a musty-looking barrel costume with a polka-dot bandana holding the shorter boy’s muted red curls.

Timmy rolled across with an enormous Pope hat, velvet white with a clean yellow cross streaked on the accessory. Decked out in a well-crafted car heralding the strawberry-blond boy raised a hand in greeting to his fellow believer.


“Timmy.” Craig cooled replied.


“Tim-my!” The wheelchaired boy answered in a blinding smile, gesturing to the outfit Craig wore. “Ti-mmy.”


“Yes. Here’s to us spreading the good word.” Craig stated curtly.


“Wasn’t it just the gang and a few plusones tonight?” Tweek whispered hastily, as his expression betrayed his nerves. “I-I thought our costumes were just going to be a quick thing for some pictures and then removed.”

Before Craig could counter, a devious voice injected behind them.


“That’s what he said.” A polite cough followed the remark, as blonde curls instantly clued in who exactly would be ballsy enough to say something so blunt.


“Bebe.” Craig spoke through gritted teeth. “What the hell are you doing here?”


Curling a red-painted finger through her curls that flowed from the snake crown laid on her head – vicious looking reptile heads with beady magenta eyes staring straight at Tweek and himself – the blonde girl smirked as she sweetly talked. “Why the same reason as you guys. Dressing up, and then dressing down at a house party.” She winked at Tweek and the imp choked on invisible spit, hastily throwing his arms up in embarrassment.


Bebe!” Tweek squeakily admonished. The blond looked mildly scandalized but took a deep breath and paced his flushed face.

Bebe tilted her head, her painted nails matched her ruby lipstick in equal vibrancy as she gave an apologetic look. “Sorry Tweek. Just having a bit of fun. Anyway, we’re all here for some treats or tricks tonight.” She finished with a mirth-filled smile.


“We are. Not sure how you got invited.” Craig probed, his free hand petted Stripe as she sat in the crook of his arm.


“Nichole.” Bebe rebutted. “I was one of her ‘plus ones’ and I invited some other people to accompany me.”

Ah yes. The obligatory girlfriend invite. Nichole must have asked some of her female friends to balance the male to female ratio.


“And thus each person invited another person and so on.” Craig interpreted the answer to justify the influx of people.


“Bingo.” Bebe’s roguish words followed. “And I’m really loving the costumes you two have chosen. Very,” She reflected for a second and purred. “ Sinful.”   


“Tweek is my Devil and Stripe is my Angel.” Craig explained as he gestured to his partner and his pet huddled in his arms. “Angel and Devil on shoulder reference. Nothing more than that.”


Bebe hummed, not convinced at the least on the surface-level response. “Sure.” She enunciated with a smirk in her words.”But anyway, I’m loving your horns Tweek. Good color choice.” She held her hand up with glossy painted red nails as she emphasized her point.  


“Thanks?” Tweek said, and ducked his head as he looked sheepish from the compliment and was unsure how to proceed. Green eyes darted left and right as he avoided the demand for gossip from Bebe’s own curious eyes.


The front door finally opened and a frustrated-looking Token appeared, with a thin-stringed headpiece, decorated by two white and black feathers that adorned his crown. A deep maroon cape was thrown over his shoulders, tied together by a tunic with criss-crossing hatches of black strokes. “-I told you already that you are not welc- Oh Craig and Tweek! Come in guys.” Token rapidly fired off his surprise as he beckoned the two of them in.


“Ahem.” An obvious fake cough uttered from behind as Bebe pushed herself in-front directing Token’s attention to her. “Don’t forget me Token. Nichole must be wondering where I was.” She smiled sweetly, if not slightly deadly in her words.


“Ah, right. Sorry, didn’t see you there.” Token’s response was nothing less than a flustered apology. “Come in too. And Timmy as well.” He apologized as he allowed the group to shuffle through before slamming the door as unknown people tried to enter simultaneously.  


“You cannot imagine the amount of shit I have been through tonight.” Token bemoaned after the group had been herded through the front door. “I’ve been trying to vett the people coming in, and it’s been a mess jumping back and forth from the door to around the house and trying to make sure no one steals anything.” Token muttered angrily, deep lines appearing on his forehead as he pinched the bridge of his nose.


“More people than you expected?” Bebe answered cheekily, but averted her eyes when Token gave her a pointed stare. “Sorry, sorry. I’ll keep my tricks to a minimum and share more treats.”


“Way more.” Token clarified with a sigh.”I already made arrangements in hiding everything important, and locked all the bedrooms to prevent any hook-ups that might happen.”

Craig swore he heard Bebe curse under her breath.


“Anyway, Clyde is already here, and so is Jimmy if you guys wanted to make some rounds. I’ll be at the front door and see who else has decided to invite themselves. Make sure no one messes my house up please guys?” Token pleaded at the group with the heartfelt request.


“We’ll do our best.” Craig promised. Token nodded in thanks and walked off to investigate the next door knock.


“Oh guys! You finally came!” An excited voice announced, “I was wondering when you guys were going to show your sorry asses here.” Clyde bounced into view, sporting a gladiator outfit with a bulging bloody club clutched in one hand as the other lifted in greeting. “It’s good to see you all dressed up. Especially you Bebe. You’re looking very mythical tonight.” Clyde flirted upon observation on Bebe’s Medusa garb.


“Clyde.” Bebe spoke back in amusement. “You’re looking like quite the hero tonight. Slain any monsters yet ?” Her words were embedded with a challenge and a surprising amount of flirty banter.


“Nah. But if you’re offering to be my first, you can be my guest.” Clyde slyly commented back.


At this point Timmy had rolled off to somewhere else, and Craig had half a mind to join throwing himself in the Lion’s den if he could avoid this sickly gross exchange between Bebe and Clyde.


“Hmm. Maybe not now. At least take me for dance before you start dropping those type of lines.” Bebe jived with a manicured finger that beckoned Clyde’s attention to an open-space around the corner.


Clyde turned his head towards Craig, and gave silent gasps like a fish, before the gladiator-sporting boy threw a thumbs up and followed Bebe like a lovesick puppy.


Guess Halloween was the holiday where everyone threw away their rigid standards and pigs decided to fly.


“Well I didn’t expect that to happen.” Craig concluded.


“Ah-ck. Good for Clyde I guess??” Tweek pointed out, looking happy for his friend.”He’s beenpining after Bebe for years atthi-ss point.”


Throughout the party, noise and chatter blended with each other. Still, two voices resounded louder and with more clarity than the rest.


With equal frustration and tension thrown back and forth, Eric and Wendy stormed through. The larger boy wore an orange robe and a bald cap that looked like a surprising amount of effort went into its creation. Wendy followed, in a pure white garb of a smooth textured dress that reached her calves. In her hands, she held a golden bow and arrow that sparkled underneath the indoor lights. The two of them seemed to be locked in a heated argument, both individuals oblivious to anyone but each other as they swapped barbs and taunts.


Craig still could hear their voices even as the duo disappeared into the depths of the house. He also wasn’t sure if they were trying to try and kill each other and dispose of the other’s corpse, or trying to hate-fuck in a spare room. Not like they would have any luck.


“That was weird.” Craig mentioned.


“God, sofuckingweird man. Is there, eugh, something inthe water?!” Tweek confusedly claimed towards the scene the two boys observed, as the imp flailed his pitchfork around.


“Woah fellas! Carefu’ with that pointy stick of yours’!” A voice called from behind Tweek, and the devilish servant turned around to witness Butters in a makesuit astronaut suit. “This helmet may be protective, but not everyone has one you got me? Could put an eye out if you’re not careful.” With a thwack Butters tapped on his helmet in demonstration before he waved with one hand.”Anyway, great costumes guys, I’m gonna see if there’s any food around here.”


“Keep going straight and you’ll be at the kitchen.” Craig supplied.


“Well jeez whiz, you’re a lifesaver Craig.” Butters showed his appreciation with a dazzled smile before he shot off. Craig shared a raised eyebrow with Tweek who only shrugged in response. His little angel companion shifted against Craig’s torso as Stripe twitched and her beady eyes narrowed as she sighted an individual who rapidly approached.


“Hey. You two probably know this house better than I do. Are there any spare rooms around that I could use to get away from the crowd?”


Stan appeared with swish of his green cape, a large shocking swatch of a red feather that announced his presence, as his entire character screamed gallantry.


“Token locked all the bedrooms so if you’re looking for a hook-up you’re out of luck.” Craig boredly disclosed. “If you’re desperate, there’s an upstairs bathroom. But, I would advise not, so you can avoid being kicked out like a fucking idiot.” The deadpanned teenager clarified with a hidden warning.


“Jeez, calm down Tucker. I’m not asking so I can pull a hook-up. Kyle’s feeling a little light-headed, and I want to get him somewhere less crowded to rest. He just needs somewhere to take his medication.” Stan divulged as he crossed his arms in subtle intimidation.


“Sure.” Craig bluntly challenged.”And this isn’t a way to get back at the fact your ex is possibly hooking up with your friend.”


Stan made a face.”Kenny?”


“Cartman actually.” Craig clarified, and the surly teenager felt a sick flicker of satisfaction as a combination of emotions moulded Stan’s face, that ranged from surprise, to pity, to exasperation and finally, to a defeated motion.


“Jesus fuck Wendy. ” Stan mumbled under his breath. “Actually you know, I don’t care right now. Kyle needs me. Thanks for the tip for the upstairs bathroom. I can promise you there will no fucking happening there.”


“I hope the hell there isn’t.” Craig demanded. Without a seconds wait, Stan dashed off with the new knowledge and was swallowed up by the throes of people that enveloped Craig’s depth of vision.


Tweek had been kept occupied during the conversation as the blond noted Stripe’s increased agitated movements in Craig’s arms.  


Stripe pushed her nose into the crook of Craig’s forearm, and the taller boy looked down as the guinea pig made squeaky distressed noises, and flickered her nose back and forth towards Tweek and himself. “What’s wrong Stripe?”


“H-hey, give her here. Let mesee if she wants to nng-change.” Tweek offered.


The exchange occurred in a manner that caught the attention of several onlookers.


“Oh! That’s so adorable. It’s a little angel!” Came high-pitched voices that cooed over the contrast of a devil holding a tiny angelic creature. Within moments, Tweek was surrounded by a flutter of girls dressed in various outfits. Craig spied an Alien Queen, Rancher, Superhero and a slutty version of everything in between.


Pushed onto the side, Craig found himself ignored as the swarm of girls oohed and ahhed over Tweek and Stripe’s costumes. Tweek gave a confused look towards his boyfriend, and mouthed a silent ‘what’s going on?’. However, soon enough the crowd of girls directed Tweek’s attention to people he knew of, who whispered something in his ear that instigated a rising blush that the blond spluttered about.


“Ah-I-um. I’m gonna just headoff with girls! Seeyou later?” Tweek called out as he was carried off along with the laughter of the girls.


Craig felt peeved from the sudden disappearance of people who knew of, and he was not in the mood to deal with strangers in a familiar environment. He spied a few seats free on the lounge couch and quickly moved over to pass the time.


Not long after he rested to catch his breath did Craig felt the gentle dip of another on the couch.


“So, Fucker , you’re a priest? That’s kinky.” Came a voice and Craig could taste the bait in the words.


“McCormick. So you got in as well. And it’s actually a Youth Pastor.” The taller boy said, showing off his held microphone. The other boy, was. Well. He was dressed less like a boy, and instead wore an outfit more fitting for a girl, with a golden tiara rested in straw braids from a wig, and donned a dress that split in the front with a daring amount of leg being shown. A slutty princess outfit?


The blond scoffed.“Whatever, close enough. Both are servants to the big G’. And yeah, I did. Came with Cartman, Stan and Kyle. Have no idea where an’ of them went off to, if that helps.” Kenny explained.


“Last time I saw Cartman was talking to Testaburger. Apparently the two of them have stuck to each other.” Craig described the strange dynamic between the resident feminist and misogynist.


“Huh. Guess when the costumes are on, all bets are off.” Kenny wistfully lamented.


“As for Marsh and Broflovski, last time I saw they were trying to find an empty room to administer Broflovski’s medication.” Craig shrugged.


“Ah, the ever watchful empath Stan Marsh. Can’t blame him, when Kyle gets low-blood sugar symptoms it’s fucking scary to watch.” Kenny winched, mostly likely from past experience.


Craig simply nodded in acknowledgement but said nothing further. The blond crept closer until Craig was slowly inching back from the proximity of Kenny’s cheery facial expression. The intimacy of their faces made Craig acutely aware of each gold eyelash, each light freckle that dotted the bridge of the other boy’s nose and the-


“Have you been drinking?” Craig observed as he smelled the lingering stench of alcohol.


“Hah? No? Maybe. I had a lot of the punch and I’m pretty sure someone fucking spiked it.” Kenny almost slurred his words in exaggeration. Craig looked aloofled at the blond’s answer and simply nodded in response.


“So you’re Princess Kenny.” Craig inquiried. “I thought you would be a superhero or some shit.”


Kenny laughed and he threw his head back, which exposed his pale neck that had been decorated with a thin golden chain. “Ha. Yeah, that’s the image you have of me lover-boy? Well, sure I could have pulled a Deadpool costume if that’s what you’re hinting at.”


Craig raised an eyebrow. “Because when you get started, you never shut up?”


“Hmm.” Kenny mused with a glint in his eye as the blond half-heartedly chuckled at a supposed joke. “Actually I was thinking more about my attitude of doing whoever I wanted.”


“Not what I was referring to.” Craig imparted.


“So, where did Tweedledum run off to. I thought you two would wear matching couple outfits and show off your perfect relationship goals.” Kenny’s mouth broke into a large grin, as soft giggles threatened to spill out in hiccups. “What’s he dressed up as? A choir-boy?”


“A servant of the Devil actually.” Craig stated.


“So you came here with Tweek. Dressed up as a demon?” Kenny whistled. “Nice. That’s some hardcore shit. I approve.”


“An imp.” Craig corrected. “And technically with Stripe as well.” The black-haired boy clicked his tongue. ”Currently with the favorite parent.”


“Oh, rough dude.” Kenny mockingly winched, “That must be a blow to your ego.”


Craig rolled his head around, a crick in his neck that popped from the action had the black-haired boy sighing in relief. “Not really.”


“Course it’ll be. Nothing sucks worse than being ditched by the people you can about the most.” Kenny gave a thin smile, almost reminiscent of a painful memory as a flicker of bitterness came and went in the blue pools of his eyes. It disappeared faster than Craig could focus on, and a forced if not shakily confident expression replaced the sombre look. “Well, maybe just beating getting a blowie from a lot-lizard found in bathroom in a run-down truck stop.”


“Sooo relatable.” Craig boredly said. ”Is that something you do often?”


“Where did your boyfriend head off to? Poor Tweek could be swallowed up the house by now. Tweek the imp. Tweemp? Twink?” Kenny rambled on in an aggressive way to steer the conversation somewhere safe. “Shouldn’t you, as poster-boy for Prince Charming be looking for your Princess?”


“Tweek.” Craig slowly emphasized, “Is his own man, and can make decisions for himself. I’m not here to baby him, and he can hangout with his own friend groups without my presence.” An equally blunt response had Kenny’s hands placed up in apology.


“Fine, fine. Don’t like me infantilizing your boyfriend. I gotcha’.” Kenny squinted and swept his fingers through his blond wig with a delicate motion. “Missed opportunity if you asked me, you would totally kill at being a Daddy Dom, and Tweek has Little written all over him.”


“Then it’s a good thing no one asked for your opinion McCormick.” Craig dryily commented.


“The world could definitely improve if people listened to my advice. You only live once y’know. Do the freaky shit you want before your time is up.” Kenny grinned.”Less uptight asses and more loose morals. If you know what I mean.” The blond threw in a wink for good measure and waggled his eyebrows.


“Thank you for your insightful contribution.” Was Craig’s deadpanned response.


“No problem Mr. Robot. Maybe one day you’ll see the light and come and join my philosophy.” Gloved finger guns accompanied the remark and at this Craig rolled his eyes.


“You mean your promiscuous lifestyle?”


Kenny pursed his lip for a second before stretching his lips in a mischievous expression. “Well actually I meant my wise words on living a little before you kick the bucket, but if you wanna interpret it as getting dick or getting dicked that’s cool too.”

“Really?” Craig stated. ”That’s how you interpreted my answer.”


“Hey, you are the embodiment of ‘tall, dark and handsome’, not my fault I have to consciously not let my boner speak instead of my brain.” Kenny complained with tease in his voice.


“Again with the declarations.” Craig said. “Why do I keep hearing this type of thirst from people?”


Kenny blinked before his eyes widened in surprise. He jumped up from the couch and held his palms up in confusion “Dude! Have you seen yourself in the mirror lately? You’re fucking hot. Okay. Like, a lean-version of the jock-type of hot. Like a less intense version of Stan, but still hot.” The blond reassured after noticing the black-haired boy’s blank expression.


“Don’t compare me to Marsh.” Craig sniped back. “And yes I have looked in a mirror recently I don’t see the whole craze for height-”


Well. That wasn’t quite right. Craig stopped midway in sentence, as he mulled over the statement he was about to make.


Tweek certainly came to mind as someone who appreciated the sudden growth spurt. Someone who very much appreciated it and it did kick-off their current sexual exploration in retrospection.


“Ohoho? Did you get a sudden epiphany for your current crisis?” Kenny injected with glee.


“Something like that.” Craig muttered.


Kenny triumphantly laughed as he clapped his hands together in amusement. Craig could see the other boy’s eyes catching onto a commotion behind the raven-head, as Kenny’s eyes flickered to the side.“Glad I could show you the light Mr. Holy Man. I’m gonna dip, just saw my prince waiting for me.” He fluttered his lashes and plucked in his lips in exaggeration before he continued. “By the way, if you two ever wanna add an extra person, I’m always game to rock your boat if you catch my drift.” The blond finished with an impassioned blown-kiss before he leapt up and dashed off.


Left to his own devices, Craig got up from the couch and walked around as the night drew to a close. The partygoers around him stumbled about as the tall boy weaved his way through the crowd, his reflexes saved him from a drink being spilled over him as he made his way around the house to find his boyfriend and pet.


He finally spied a familiar mess of blond locks and walked over, only for a clumsy headbutt from his boyfriend.”You okay Tweek?” The Youth Pastor gently asked.


“Y-yess? I’m f-nngh-fine. Just ah-um-eck. Tired.” Tweek mumbled, as he cradled Stripe protectively against his chest. “Just-ack, wanna sleep. Sleep that’s all.”


“Are you sure you want to sleep, and not throw up.” Craig asked with concern laced in voice.


“P-pretty, eck, sure, I’m tired.” Tweek said.”Who said anything about--hnng, throwingup?”


“You did that one all over my face. I had to talk to you at arm’s length for a week before I trusted you again.”


“It wasonetime!” Tweek complained, all while still rested against his partner.


“One time too many.” Craig responded.”Okay, so you’re not sick, just worn out from tonight. Let’s put Stripe back and we can sleep over at my place.” He added as he gently pried Stripe from his boyfriend’s grasp.


“Mm. Sure.” The blond rested his head against his boyfriend’s torso, his eyes closed, and his gestures lethargic. “I enjoyed-ack, myself, got to catch-up with friends.”


Did he enjoy himself? Certainly it was different without Tweek next to him to share comments, and the comfortability established between them did not exist with Kenny McCormick, but the Youth Pastor felt hard pressed to have completely declared the night as a waste.


“Me too.”




The unspoken rule was that if a teacher did not arrive in the fifteen minutes after the beginning of what should be class time, students were able to take that period off and use it as study hall. Craig was well-versed with the first part of the situation, having seen the slow ebbing of a frustrated teacher taking more continual ‘breaks’ lasting an entire class-period before abruptly quitting a few weeks later.


He did not judge them, not in the same huffy exasperation that he had seen Broflovski do – no doubt irritated that his careful scheduling and calculation of academic marks partially relied on the school’s piss-poor ability to teach the curriculum.


Yet, he also did not revel in them, not in the joy expressed from Cartman’s whoop of glee and smugness on avoiding further debates (read: Cartman’s holier-than-thou rants about his superiority complex to an underpaid, underappreciated and understandably sleep-deprived instructor). No, what Craig felt was complete apathy.

He received the homework instructions. He completed them and read the feedback and comments. He did what he could to turn written instructions into tangible results and thus the cycle rinsed and repeated.

When he skipped study hall to hang around the empty fields with bleachers, he felt no guilt, and no satisfaction. He did it to escape the pointless chatter and noise that inevitably would swallow up any class without supervision. He was sure that Tweek would be half-way through a lesson by now. If he was a better person he would have refrained from texting his boyfriend in class, but alas he was not.


Craig shot off a few texts that detailed his view over the football fields as he made himself comfortable on the bleachers.


From [Craig]: The sky is really blue today


From [Craig]: I think I saw a squirrel and raccoon fight each other


From [Craig]: I’m bored


In rapid fire, the response Craig got was nothing short of amusement.


To [Tweakers <3]: arent yuo suppsed to bbn in clsss??


From [Craig]: Free period


To [Tweakers <3]: luckyyyyy


To [Tweakers <3]: nwo leve me alone i hve shit to do


Craig sighed, restless boredom agitated his soul and he leaned back, his palms rested on the cold concrete as the teenager gazed on the field filled with people trained for their respective sport.


With a huff, he dove into his bag and pulled out a book, a moderate-sized paperback with the title of ‘welder & solder for beginners’. The pages had been a little roughed up, but everything was still in-tact.


It wasn’t a hard read. Just dense, and without any of the materials and equipment in front of him, he felt there was little to do but read up techniques and tips to use when he did have the necessary things.


His peace was broken when someone sat at a conversational length next to the surly teen. As Craig slammed the book shut in advance, the newcomer cleared his throat in acknowledgement of the interaction that would occur.


“Light reading?” Came Stan’s measured inquiry.


“Save the small talk. What do you want.” Craig demanded.


“...” Stan seemed almost abashed at the accused words, and took a deep breath. ”Okay. I’ll be direct. How did you know you were gay?”


“I didn’t.” Craig retorted. “The whole town knew before I did apparently.”


“That’s not what I meant...” Stan started, opened his mouth before he reflected on the next chosen words carefully. “I mean, how did you know Tweek was someone you wanted to be more than friends. Like you wanted to be with him in a datey-type of way.”


Oh fuck this.


“I am not dealing with your sexuality crisis.” Craig declared as he threw his hands up. “I am not paid enough to do this.”


“You don’t get paid at all. But seriously. You’re the only guy who’s out in this town around my age. I need your input.” Stan almost grovelled, almost.


Craig hesitated for a second as he avoided Stan’s pierced stare, before the former sighed, and resumed to interrogate the worried-looking boy. “Is this about Broflovski?”


Stan’s silence spoke more than a verbal answer ever needed to.


“God, am I the last one to know about this.. .thing with my best friend?” Stan rued as he finally broke the stillness.


“A little.” Craig offered some sympathy for the other boy’s situation. At least this was something they shared in common as it seemed the news of their romantic lives were broadcasted to the rest of the town before they realized. “Does he know?”


“Maybe? I don’t know.” Stan admitted. “He hasn’t said or done anything that he does. But I have no idea if I’m going to fuck it up by damaging our friendship if I confess.”


The monotoned teen reflected for an appropriate response.


“Look. At this point of your self-realization you can’t go back to ignoring all these feelings. Either you suffer like this for the rest of your life or you be blunt and reveal your affections.” Craig advised. “You’ve already passed the threshold of ignorance so you either cop out or deal with it.”


“That’s shit advice.” Stan shook his head, but there was no venom in his voice.”But I get where you’re coming from.” The sporty teen gave a genuine smile in compensation for Craig’s time and while the latter felt uncomfortable from the shaky truce the two of them stood on, it seemed like it was meant to be as the two of them watched the sunset fall over the grassy field.


“Do you think I should ask Kyle out?” Came Stan’s last question of the day.


Craig blinked, his eyes glazed over as he watched the reds, oranges and pinks blend together that created a fall splash of vibrancy over the afternoon sky.


“I do.”


Stan seemed satisfied at that answer, and concentrated on the natural beauty in front of them.“You know, you’re not so bad after all Craig Tucker. You still have awful taste.”


“To each to their own.” Craig replied..





The shop was dead. The storefront hadn’t been half an hour ago when a couple clumsily entered asking for kebabs, only to be directed out again to a shop more suited to their needs.

Craig was pretty sure they were wasted; the girl tried to keep her eyes opened with difficulty as her speech rapidly degraded to second-grade, childish ramblings and whines about a bathroom so she could piss her alcohol-laced urine into. Note, he mentioned the bathroom and not a toilet because Craig was pretty sure she wouldn’t be able to tell a ceramic bowl from a bathroom sink.

Her boyfriend, Craig inferred from the way the girl squealed annoyingly with endearments of ‘teddy bear!’, had slung across his partner with his head drooped like the sheer amount of effort to keep his skull vertical was a tragic task.

Said boyfriend was slender as a stick and more likely to be blown over by a puff of wind (or a moderate push). In any case, that had been the most exciting event that occurred in the past hour, and now the empty streets meant that the coffee house was devoid of any customers and potential annoyances.  

Tweek had cleaned the tables and mopped the floors, and with Craig’s help, they had finished relatively fast. There was little chance any stragglers would barge in so late, not with most people more invested in spending their Christmas money on large, lavish presents rather than to buy a coffee or baked goods to consume as a evening snack.  

There was little to do to pass the time. Tweek took stock on the coffee beans at the back, cleaning up the back with a broom as he swept up the dust that had accumulated. Craig’s large hot chocolate mug had been nearly finished—even if technically Tweek had refilled it several times throughout the night begrudgingly. Watching the taller boy gulp down the cooled hot chocolate was almost a travesty (Tweek’s words not his), just as his blond boyfriend screeched “How could you drink it like that? What are you, an uncultured ape?? ” when the drink had been slammed down.

“Augh! My hot chocolate is not an energy drink! What the fuck Craig?”


Craig wiped the residue chocolate on his lips with his tongue, stunning Tweek for a moment from his scolding. “It is now.”


Tweek might have plotted to cut his sugar-intake after that comment. Worth it just for that thunderstruck expression.

Still, for a short period of time, Tweek giving mild irate looks of mock disappointment was enough to pass the time.

It was alright though. He had made it up when he mopped the floor. He definitely had gotten some points from that.

“Are you spending Christmas here?” Tweek asked out-of-the-blue, as he stared with widened pale green eyes with skittish movements.


“Yeah, of course I am. Why wouldn’t I?” Craig responded, his eyes flickered back to his boyfriend’s nervous expression.


“N-nothing! No reason. Dude, stop looking at me.” Tweek stammered out, looking more suspicious rather than casual. “I was just asking—urk.”


“Ahuh.” Craig wetted his lips. “That’s not strange at all. Are you hiding something from me Tweekers?”


“WHAT! No, of course not. Jeez, why would you think that man?” Tweek’s answer was high-strung, more than usual. There was apprehension in his partner’s words, and Craig treaded carefully.


He did not want to scare Tweek, not when he was sure his partner decidedly hid something. Whether it was a big or small problem, there was no need to point fingers. Therapy taught him that a calm, clean approach to strange behavior was more productive so that’s what he followed.


“I’m just saying it’s suspicious when you drop questions like that in the gifting season.” Craig slung back.


“Nng--don’t read ack, too much into it.” Tweek mumbled as he held a mildly affronted look.


“Okay.” Craig said. “Now I’m going to have high expectations for my Christmas present.”


“Hah! What--ah, makes you-ack, think I’m getting you a Christmas present?” Tweek anxiously countered.


“You’re not?” Craig mockingly teased.


“Uh--wait, are you--ack getting one for me? Because-eugh, I was getting one for you and if--eck, you’re not giving me one, I-I don’t want to look stupid-ahhhhh.” The blond nervously babbled on.


“Hey, hey.” Craig placated,”I didn’t mean to give you any unreasonable expectations. I’ll accept anything you want to give me.” The taller boy promised earnestly. “If it’s from you, it’ll mean the world to me.”


Tweek turned scarlet, his prattles turned gibberish in embarrassment. “ God you’re sappy. ” He mumbled under his breath, but the light in his eyes expressed bursting affection.  


“Mm. Sure. If it makes you feel better, I’ve started knitting so expect new wooly additions to your wardrobe.”


“Ah? You’ve started--erm, knitting?” Tweek asked. “How’s--eurgh, that, ack, going?”


“Okay. Been mostly doing practice-runs but I have plans to make elaborate stuff like scarves and hats eventually.” Craig described his process and Tweek listened with rapt attention. “I can teach you once I’ve gotten the hang of it if you want.”


Tweek bashfully smiled. “Oh man, that sounds-eugh, cool. I don’t--ah, know how good of a student--nng I’ll be, but if you’re willing…”


“It’ll be a favor after you let me watch you bake.” Craig justified.”So we get even.”


“Okay. Cool.” Tweek seemed satisfied by the reasoning. “Maybe you can--mmph teach me after this seasonal--nng rush is over.” Tweek explained in rapid fire.”So many orders--ahhh, so many. I-It’s too much pressure getting--nng all the orders done!”


Craig frowned. “Are you expected to do all of them by yourself?”


“Nnng--yeah.” Tweek admitted. As the blond noticed Craig’s increasingly crossed face, the former elaborated.”I--um, I’m exaggerating! If I take, ack, power-naps I should be--eugh, done two days before the orders are--ah, due.”


At this dismal declaration, Craig sighed heavily. “You know, if you wanted help, all you needed was to ask right? I don’t mind helping at all, and I’m sure the guys enjoyed it when they helped out last time.” He gently advised.


“I-I couldn’t ask again--nng.” Tweek stammered.”It’s unfair, mmph, to ask for such a big favor.”


“It’s not a big deal.” Craig said with concrete resolution.”That’s what friends are for.”


The other teenager seemed like he was going to argue further, but thought better and mulled over the offer. “Okay, yeah. I’ll--uh, accept the, hah, help.”


“Good.” Craig nodded, seemingly pleased at the result. ”It’s important to have a lot of skills in a functioning household.”


“That sounds--nnnh, super domestic.” Tweek commented on.


“I like to think of the future.” Craig shrugged.”I can’t be the only one in the house to mend your clothing you know. You have to pull your own weight during marriage.”


At this remark, Tweek’s face decided to grow to a flaming red shade. “M-marriage?!”


“Too early?” Craig asserted restlessly. “Just a thought I had, you don’t have to think much about it.”


“More like too--nng, late in the night” Tweek replied. “Are you speaking-ack, hypothetically?“


“Something like that.” Craig shrugged as he drove the point to another topic. “Have you noticed how Clyde has upped his gushing over Bebe since the Halloween party.”


“Yeah--ah, I thought I was imagining-urk, it.” Tweek followed up with a thoughtful response.”I kinda-uh, always expected the twoof them as living the example of highschoolsweethearts.”


“Same. I thought it was a touch and go situation, but it looks like they are getting closer.” Craig supplied.


“So you think they’re going to get, mmmh, hitched?” Tweek said towards his boyfriend.


“Maybe.” Craig hummed as he hugged Tweek from behind. “They would be an iconic duo.”


“Likeus?” Tweek mumbled, “Like the-ahh, heterosexual version of us?”


“Sure.” Craig settled his chin on-top of his boyfriends thatchy-hair. “You’re really warm.”


“Uhh, thanks?” Tweek wiggled in confusion from the observation. “Am I--erm, sick-hot? Like a fever type of, ack, thing going on? Because that’s a hygiene hazard, eugh, and I’m not supposed to be servingifthat’sthecase.”


“No.” Craig stoically replied. “Not a bad time of warm. More like I want to get under some covers and cuddle, rather than stay in this store bored out of my damn mind.”


“Nng--well. What do you have in mind to past the, nnnh, time?”


Craig carefully deliberated upon the invitation.


“I could blow you.” The taller boy responded with honesty.”That would definitely pass the time.”


“IN HERE?” Tweek squeaked out, as the shorter boy twisted around to face his boyfriend directly.”Right here--ahhh, in the shop?!”

“If you don’t want to, we can save it for home. But I doubt we’ll be getting any customers this late.”


Tweek considered the offer. His forehead furrowed in acknowledgement of the proposal. The blond teenager thought about the situation before he nodded in finality. “I-uh. If.If, you promise to stop if any customers enter, then--ahh. Eugh, I guess you can…?”


“Cool.” Craig smiled, seemingly pleased at Tweek’s interest. At his boyfriend’s permission, the black-haired teenager stooped downwards, his knees hitting the wooden floors with a gentle thwamp , and inwardly enjoyed the sharp intake of breath he elicited from the blond. “Shuffle over and give me some room.” Craig asked as he got himself into position.


Craig slided warm fingers across his partner’s cold skin, and rose the mossy-green shirt that had been haphazardly tucked into black pants. The black-haired teenager ghosted light feather touches across the exposed skin that created a pathway of tiny goosebumps that swept across pale skin. The pants unzipped in a quick movement and dropped onto the ground, and Craig enjoyed the way his boyfriend grew pink at the slow undressing.


The chullo-wearing teen’s touch sent a shiver that trembled across Tweek’s face as the shorter boy clamped his mouth shut from making any surprised noises. A tense jaw vibrated with hesitancy as Tweek flickered a dubious piercing look that surveyed the close proximity of Craig’s presence near the former’s lower body.


Craig looked up and asked,“Hey, it’s less fun if you’re silent. Come on, talk to me babe.”


“Nnnh, h-how am I supposed to c-concentrate when you’re--ahh, doing this?” Tweek babbled as Craig tugged down the underwear and pushed the his face towards the exposed crotch.


“If you keep staring at me, you’ll going to focus on coming too quickly. Then what’s the point of passing time if you’re done.” Craig countered, as he started to stroke the flaccid penis. The appendage seemed to be still asleep, but the raven-head’s continuous administrations began to harden the organ. “Tell me what orders you have for this Christmas.”


“Um--I. I’ve got a cakeorder, with twenty mini-cupcakes--ah.” Tweek started, his words quirked up as Craig’s warm hands fondled the blond’s balls. “A-andd, anotherone with two pudding cakes, with extra f- fuh -frosting! Nnng--and a batch of fruity croissants, ack. Around ten of them--mmh.”


One hand cradled Tweek’s balls; the blond’s scrotum was cupped with a gentle cupped motion. The other caressed the interested dick that increased grew in size from the constant ministrations. Craig rubbed his hand up and down the length of the penis, the movement coaxed the organ to engorge with blood. The flesh swelled underneath Craig’s touch, as the erection jutted out, with the surly teenager just being able to repress a thrill from visually being expressed across his face. With a quickened pace, the prick hardened from the loving attention and the sight made Craig’s sexual appetite blossom.

Throughout this, the twitchy blond kept his mouth open and the words prattled on. “I also have an order w’- ack -where, the customer wants--ngh, ‘congrats on your whore daughter’, writtenonthe cake..”


“Sounds rough.” Craig murmured as he thumbed the head of the penis that rose from the touch. “Imagine doing such a passive-aggressive way of saying ‘fuck you’.”


“At least I’m getting paid fo-”


Tweek gasped. His hands grabbed onto the counter, his eyes widened in surprise and in embarrassment. Seemingly taken-aback as Craig took the head of the member into his mouth, his tongue swirled around the tip of the dick with lavish strokes. The choked noises from Tweek’s mouth were downright addicting.


Strangled moans, words that never came out correctly as the blond’s babbles were interspersed with whimpers of pleasure, and outbursts of his fits, combined together to create a symphony of enjoyment.


“Ah--nng, oh, god. Fuck. Y-you don’t have to push yourself--I really don’t want. Oh , mmmh, you to chokeanddieonme. ” Tweek convulsed as his boyfriend took the prick further down the latter’s mouth.


At this concerned statement, challenge or warning - Craig personally thought it was a mixture of all - the teen raised in eyebrow in response. The raven-head detached his mouth from the tip and the whine that Tweek slipped out was almost enough to get Craig to put his lips back on the hot flesh. Almost .


A tan finger wiped the speckle of cum that had leaked out of the penis from the corner of Craig’s mouth. “Who said anything about deepthroating? That’s your talent, not mine.” Craig was a realist after all. As such, he knew his the boundaries of his talents, and he knew if he pushed too much, there was a chance that an unfortunate accident might have occured. Still, there were other ways he knew that could drive Tweek wild.


With renewed energy, Craig applied himself to pleasure his boyfriend at a tenfold amount of effort. The taller boy’s mouth engulfed the head, his tongue licked the tip and sides with sloppy movements. One hand rubbed down the exposed shaft, the flesh reacted with enthusiasm as the blood continued to stream downwards to the crotch. The other tan hand continued to caress and swipe across Tweek’s balls, before the digits moved and rubbed against the shorter boy’s perineum. This transition caused an outburst, with Tweek’s squeak muffled by pale hands that shook with each tortuous tactile worship.


Each stroke, each lick followed each other like notes on a music sheet. The symphony of Tweek’s mewls washed over Craig like a shower of compliments, needy noises that curled inside the latter’s stomach and aroused the interest in the raven-head’s pants. Tweek’s knees surrounded his boyfriend’s head, legs nearly rested on Craig’s shoulders through the proximity. This locked the chullo-wearing boy’s movements by being simply concentrated on sucking, rubbing and working up Tweek.


“Augh, what’s gotten, hah, into you C-Craig?” Tweek curious question was pushed out with much difficulty, as the boy was stuck between groans and comprehensible words.


The answer came in quick flashes of what ifs and what could bes. Snapshots of what Tweek must have looked like to an entering customer, face entirely red, breaths labored, eyes locked to the floor and mouth ran with a mess of words. Apologizes spluttered between breathy sobs, embarrassment leaked from the confused customer and the even more fuzzled Tweek. God, the chaos that would unfolded would be unbelievable, unforgettable even. The images ran hot under Craig’s skin, adrenaline raced through him as the blood pounded and made his ears grow hot.


What a sight that wo-


Ring Ring.


Like a hypnotist that snapped their fingers, or a chime of the midnight clock, the fantasy shattered.


“Ah fuckity-fuck.” Tweek fumbled with his cell phone that gave off shrill vibrations. “Oh Christ, what is it n-now??”


Craig’s mouth slipped off his partner’s penis, the interruption now commanded his attention.


“...yes, I’mfine. No dad, the shop--ack, has been, nnh, dead. No I’m notalone, Craig has beenwith me the entire night.” A beat passed and Tweek’s face renewed in pink intensity. “GOD, don’t say that! Okay. Ugh, okay. Sure. Bye.”


“What’s happening?”

“Dad says--ahh, I can close up since it’s late and they aren’tgoing tobe at--ack, home tonight.” Tweek answered with some shyness trembled through the words. “Do you want tocomeover tonight?”


“Sure. We can finish off what we started.” The raven-head said as he pulled himself off the ground in one swoop. “Close up, I’ll wait for you.”


Tweek incredulously blinked at Craig’s blank attitude. The scene was comicable, with the shorter boy’s pants and underwear on the ground as the hardened organ drooped down from the interruption. With haste, the blond dressed himself and began to prepare for the close. Craig leaned against the outer side of the counter, and watched with great interest at the anticipation that practically vibrated off Tweek.


In record time, the routine had been completed. The trip back to Tweek’s house was comprised of heavy petting from each party as they almost publicly groped each other under the blanket of darkness created by the evening sky.


Doors were locked, steps were heavy as they traipsed upstairs to Tweek’s room. Fingers were pressed against cheeks, digits stroked through hair and flesh as clothes were stripped away.  Lips met each other, the privacy of the bedroom allowed such intimate conversations between tongues to flourish, and express such needy explorations. Approval was conveyed in caught breaths, in pinches and scratches of nails against flesh, as the two teenagers ravished each other in furious need of want and pent-up desire that bubbled throughout the night.


The warm feeling of skin against skin was like a sigh of relief, as the two of them were allowed to shed off their expectations and worries away from the town’s voyeurous eyes.  


“Can I wreck you tonight?” Craig asked in-between kisses. The request had been put up with hope, the verbal request needed a confirmation that spoke louder than thoughts and fantasies.


The fervorous consequent nod was a suitable answer. Still, Tweek’s breathless whimper and accompanied, ‘yes please’ gave Craig enough initiative that paused their touches against each other, in order to procure the necessary equipment.


The lube and one of the sex-toys were enough for tonight. The toy was separated into three sections. The one closest to the ground was a silicon thick ring of a millennial pink shade, and it developed into a flared base, with a small bulbous shape that progressed into a tapered tip. It was the tiniest of the sex-toys the two of them chose. The color had been picked as a joke for the name, but it also seemed like a pretty color that matched Tweek’s blushing face and leaking erection.


With a spurt of cool lube, Craig coated the toy with his wet fingers. He applied a few fingers to his partner’s rim, the ring of muscle clenched against the intrusions and Craig felt his own erection become firm.


“I’m going to use the buttplug on you alright? Just let me take care of you tonight.” Craig said in a hushed voice. “Just relax babe.”


“Hnng.” Tweek moaned with an arm slung across his reddened face.


With careful movements, Craig stretched his partner out with scissored movements to help with the implementation of the toy. Fingers were replaced with the silicon buttplug, the pink object hooked by Craig’s digits in preparation. The first push in made Tweek’s legs shake, the breach new but not unwelcome. With a steady grip around the hoop of the buttplug, Craig made sure to keep a steady pace as he opened up his partner with the lube. The squelches from the activity flamed the taller boy’s arousal even further.


At the same time, the taller boy resumed his activities from the shop as his mouth swallowed the other teenager’s weeping tip. In tandem, each lick and suck was broken in intervals as the buttplug was slid in and out of Tweek’s hole. The pinkness of the toy was eagerly sucked in by the slicked up orifice.


The almost smooth movement entranced Craig as Tweek’s body shuddered by the actions. His boyfriend was such a pretty sight. With mewling cries, and hiccups of words that spilled out in gracious praises to the overstimulation applied to the writhing blond. Praises, curses, the two mixed together as Tweek tried to find a coherent way to express his hunger, and clenched around the sex-toy from the stimulation.


Craig’s own erection was gripped by his free hand, the extra lube created enough slip for the slap of flesh against flesh. His palm cupped the length, the slickness of the lube rubbed down the smooth texture of his penis as his own cock leaked seed onto the towel they had put down in preparation; wet spots dotted the material in splatters.  


Edged closer and closer, Craig quickened in pace as Tweek became closer to his climax. The blond’s noises flattened into a long groan as the teenager shook and came. Hot cum spurted into Craig’s mouth, the ejaculate coated the taller boy’s lips and dribbled down his chin.


The result pushed his own climax into fruition; ropes of white coated Tweek’s thighs and stomach. With labored breaths Craig choked on his partner’s name as he rode off the high from the ejaculation.


With a pop , Craig removed the buttplug and the absence was obscene as Tweek’s hole stretched out from the attention. The lube trickled out, clear liquid that glistened across pale skin.


“Nng--I-I don’t thinkIcan move.” Tweek breathed out. His knees trembled as Craig massaged his partner’s calves. “I feel-like I could probably sleep right now.” His green eyes drooped to a close as his sighs soothed Craig’s mood, before the blond added,”You were reallygood tonight.” The taller boy dropped a sweet kiss onto his boyfriend’s cheek.


“That makes two of us.”

Chapter Text

“Are you bored? I’m bored.” Craig repeated. “If I have to read about velocity, and projectile motion, and how to determine the acceleration and net force of an object I’m going to throw my textbook out this window.”


Tweek peered over his own notebook, his eyes had glazed over the same sentence about industrialization for the nth time that he was pretty sure he could recite the statement, The vast majority of U.S. poultry and pork products come from facilities that each produce over 200,000 chickens or 5,000 pigs in a single year, while most egg-laying hens are confined in facilities that house over 100,000 birds at a time” off by heart now. 


He scratched his skin, the slight grime that had caked underneath his fingernails as he tugged the roots of his hair in frustration and stress made him feel disgusted. 


“I could-uhh, use a break,” the blond admitted as he stared at the grey-ish brown that lined his cuticles. The study-session had lasted nearly an hour before one of them broke from the tepid concentration targeted at their respective subjects. His research project had been initially too dense to break-down into smaller sections (his first thought when he looked at the assessment criteria), but after he started his readings he felt a little more confident. At least, more than Craig did when the taller boy opened his textbook and snapped it shut a second later, “Did you, mmmn, want to do something--argh, in particular?” 


“Hmm. Feel like baking?” Craig offered a suggestion. “I want one of your cupcakes.”


Tweek shook his head, his thoughts raced over the status of his ingredients in the kitchen. “I forgot--ahh, to replenish some stuff. There’s no vanilla extract, and--and, the milk went off a few daysback and I forgot tograb some yesterday. Don’t look at me like that dude.” Tweek pouted as the chullo-wearing boy shook his head in disappointment. “Unless, nnhh, you want yourcupcakes to be softened with almond milk…”


“Speaking of almond milk. Remember when Clyde complained how almonds ‘don’t even have tits to squeeze it from'?” Craig mumbled, more agitated at his dreams of being fed by his boyfriend’s famous cupcakes crash and burn than logical sense.


Tweek choked back laughter, “Oh God I remember. ‘It’s-it’s not literal milking’ I said to Clyde.” Powered by the deadpan expression on the other boy’s face, Tweek couldn’t help but continue, “His excuse was that milking- uck only occurs through nipples?”


Craig turned his head, his attention placed elsewhere, “Yeah. Remember when Jimmy dropped the ‘ I have nipples Clyde, can you milk me? ’ line. That shut him up pretty quickly. 


“Still. Human lactation still exists. Men can theoretically squeeze titty juice under the right circumstances. It happens. I’ve read about it before.” Craig droned on as he redirected his honest-to-God blank stare to the blond. 


The sheer confidence that radiated from the statement that had been unceremoniously dropped made Tweek stifle a poor excuse of a cough and a squeak that lodged itself in his throat. “I--nng, believe you dude. I feel a-bit gross, so I’m goingtotake a shower.”


“Cool.” Craig waved off his boyfriend as the bored boy took out his phone. “I’m going to look up human milking while you’re at it.”


“Don’t be weird man.” Tweek admonished, as he preemptively grabbed new clean clothes from the drawers. “I already--mnnh, said I believe you…”


“I’m not making it weird, human nature is already whacked up as it is.” Craig quipped back just as the blond shut the door. 


The hot water that cascaded all over his body had been easily appreciated, in contrast to the frigid weather that had settled over South Park. A resigned sigh escaped his mouth as the rapid fire of water drenched his hair and skin. A squirt of shampoo dispersed into his damp hair-strands, his hands massaged the mixture as it slowly dripped onto the shower floor with the help of the sprayed water. 


The zzzshh of the water as it bounced off his skin rang in the midst of the room that slowly filled with steam, as he melted against the overflowing heated splash underneath the showerhead. He closed his eyes as the hot water flowed over his face, a finger followed the drops of liquid that fell over his cheek, his jaw, below to the jut of his clavicle, and further downwards.  


His fingers rubbed against his ribs as he stretched, the feel of the bumps and grooves that made up his upper torso hitched his breath, as he trailed up until he felt his areolas, soft nubs that droplets of water splattered against. Tweek looked down at his chest, the previous conversation seemed to have bounced around in his brain, the subconscious thought tickled at his skin and nerves shot off as he pinched the nubs in an experimental action; his nipples perked up from the admissions and he even felt his dick stir a little from the attention. He tugged his nipples one at a time, lightly at first, then a little tighter until he felt himself half-hard, and with how the hot water now had become an extra sensation for distraction, Tweek ached for something a bit more. 


He balanced himself - albeit very badly - against the tiled bathroom wall and positioned his legs spread open as two fingers started to trace the edge of his external sphincter; the ring of muscle felt tender and wet from the water as the digits traced around it. 


He clenched a fist against a sloppy wet thigh as the other hand coaxed himself to relax enough as began to breach his anus, his fingers gingerly caressed his insides in a smooth up and down motion as he cleaned himself. He bit back a moan as he clenched and unclenched his asshole, the digits removed in a smooth fashion. 


It wasn’t enough; water couldn’t be replaced for actual lubricant. He shut the water off, and hastily grabbed a towel to catch the droplets from his wet hair. A shirt was thrown on, the clean one he thought, and undergarments pulled on his still half-erection strained against his boxers as an uncomfortable reminder of his arousal.


“You’re finished already?” Craig spoke a little muffled as his attention was still glued to his phone. “That was fast.”


“I--uh, got distracted.” Tweek said, his knees dug into the bed as he moved towards his boyfriend and left droplets sprinkled onto the covers. “What, argh, are you reading?”


“Something about milking a human.” Craig replied just as montonone as before, his eyes flickered upwards for a second and he faltered. “Why are you half-dressed?” Craig looked down a little more. “Are you hard right now?”


Tweek placed a hand on his partner’s thigh, and leaned closer and said, “I’ve--nnhh, cleaned myself in the shower..” 


“Oh. Fucking sweet. ” Craig loosened his frown a little. “I’ve got an idea we can try.” He pulled his blond boyfriend closer, and nuzzled against the still-wet skin of his jittery boyfriend. 


“Wh-what did you find out?” Tweek asked curiously, a little aroused; yet even more confused.  


Craig gingerly whispered against the skin, which left a hot fluttery feeling as his lips were pressed against Tweek’s cheek and forehead. The blond shuddered from the pressure from his lover’s lips, both light and heavier ones that intensified the strain in his underwear. “Something called prostate milking.” The taller boy answered, right next to an ear with a low rumble.  


Tweek groaned, surely more out of unease rather than Craig’s application of mouth to skin attention. “Are you still on, ahh, about that?”


The discontent that was insinuated in his words was ignored. “It’s a legit thing. Here. Read about it.” Craig offered his phone, and exchanged it for the towel dangled across Tweek’s shoulders. The mentioned towel was then placed onto the bed, wet-side facing the two boys.


The bold words of “'Better Than Pooping': What It Feels Like to Have a Prostate Orgasm” seemed to have blasted its presence into Tweek’s vision. 


“What--niih, the fuck!” Tweek screeched, and looked rapidly at the cursed article and his calm boyfriend. “Are you--serious?!”


Craig tapped the screen, and scrolled down a little from the title. “Read it first, and then tell me I’m a weirdo.”


Tweek cleared his throat, his expression still dubious, but well, he could at least humor Craig right?


“From a practical perspective, mnnh, the prostate is the kinda hard b-bump you can feel when you reach your finger, ugh, inside an ass and press against the walls.” The blond read out loud, his thoughts focused on the new bout of information and whether he could remember any of this relevant to their past sexual sessions. “From a medical dictionary perspective, its a gland, which is an organ that's, ack, primary function is to secrete.”


He took a quick breath, and observed how attentive Craig looked, “...and it's located below the bladder, surrounding the urethra. It's partially, made out of muscular tissue and partially made out of glandular tissue, what --nngh, it secretes is seminal fluid…”


“That’s just the medical overview, read about what you can do with it.” Craig intoned as he swiped downwards again and stopped at the subheading of ‘ What does it feel like’. 


“It feels like-like, someone put a marble in a stuffed animal, what the ever-loving fuck, and you love, that stuffed animal..!" Tweek continued irritated, his forehead grew another furrow as he read through the sentence. “Are you--ahh, pulling my leg?”


Craig shook his head, “No, not that one. This one.”


Tweek recited the specific paragraph where Craig pointed at, even more dubious. “When they experienced p-prostate massage for the first time, It felt like the beginning of an orgasm. So imagine the beginning of--ngh, an orgasm, but lasting for, twenty-minutes?”


Craig nodded, almost satisfied at the new shared knowledge the two of them had. “See, that’s what makes it different. We can lengthen our foreplay for so much longer using this.” 


Tweek stared hard, more flabbergasted then annoyed. “You want to, nnh, milk me for a straight-twenty minutes?”


"I want you to enjoy yourself. And I want to try this out." Craig confided to his boyfriend as he pressed tender kisses along the bare skin of Tweek's neck. "So can I finger you?" 


The question sent a shiver through the blond's body, his heart thumped loudly in his head (his brain was still working right he thought hastily) and the shorter boy felt how his breath quickened from his boyfriend's genuine request. The dumb therapy the both them had to do when they were younger about Affirmative Consent seemed to have been a positive net-sum. 


Oh, Jesus. Was this what his life had become? The annoyance he embedded when he was still apprehensive on Craig’s request slunk out of his mind, and instead a burning ember of desire replaced the previous feeling. The plea was dropped with such care and interest that Tweek made an embarrassing noise at the back of his throat in response. "Y-yeah fine. Go ahead, ahh ." 


“Great. Can I take your underwear off then?” Craig requested as tanned fingers felt the elastic band of the mentioned undergarment. 


“Yes.” Tweek breathed out in affirmation. “How d-do you want me?”


Craig hummed, “In a lot of ways, but right now, lay back and hands on the bed.” 


“Okay.” The blond replied as he switched places with his lover, his backside settled on the towel. 


The tanned boy peeled off the underwear, the action liberated the blond’s erection and had Tweek breathe out a long sigh. 


“Spread your legs a little. I need to get you lubed up for this.” Craig mumurred against the shell of the other boy’s ear. “Need you really wet for this. Gonna make you feel good.”


The involuntary convulsion that was provoked from the taller boy’s words, promise, desire elicited a tiny moan from the blond boy. “Mnnm, y-yeah. That sounds-- fuck --messy.” A pop of an opened lid, and then the squelch of liquid pooled onto Craig’s finger, and drizzled onto Tweek’s thigh and on his prominent half-mast erection and balls.


“Better messy and wet, then dry and uncomfortable.” Craig countered back, “Gonna starting opening you up now.” The black-haired boy traced the blond’s sphincter, the hole already wet from the previous shower and already a little stretched out. “Gonna start loosening you up a lot more.” The fingers slowly pushed further, the lube helped squish the digits in, a little more deeper as Craig twisted his fingers up towards Tweek’s belly. “Still okay?”


Tweek moaned a little from the continued admissions; the intrusion made him lightly pant from the arousal stirred by Criag’s probed actions. “Feels okay.” He mumbled back, his hips rutted against his boyfriend’s arms. “Do you know--ack, where you're going with this--nngh.” 


“I read it’s in the internal sphincter, further in your rectum. Should be feeling it soon. Let me just move around a little more.” The chullo-wearing boy explained. More touching, a swirl of the fingers, a gentle massage of the soft inner muscle had Tweek preen a little but nothing like the promise he saw from the article. “Hold on, I think I can feel it now.” A more forceful prod, aimed at a specific area inside Tweek made the boy jolt. “There?”


The blond scrunched up his nose, his fist grip tightened on Craig’s arm, and he whined a little. “Nngh--yeah, I think that’s where it is.”


“Cool. Now I’m going to milk the fuck out of you.” Craig assured with the equivalent of a shit-eating-grin. The fingers caressed on the bump that embedded the nerves that caused the spark of feelings; the press of the digits on the spot, slow and steady across the walnut-sized spot. 


Tweek felt the tingles wracking his body, his legs quivered as Craig continued his touches. 


Angnozing brushes from the pads of the fingers left Tweek breathless, the feel of the attention made his erection more interested as it jutted against his own stomach, with tiny splatters of the color of lightly-beaten egg whites smeared across his skin, kindly resulted from his dick’s interested reaction to his boyfriend’s ministrations.


The continued presses changed into lighter sweeps of the fingers across the bump, the action made him suck air in a rapid motion. “Good?” Craig purred, across the jawline of his boyfriend’s shaking form.


“Very.” Tweek affirmed with a wheezing sound, the curl of his toes dug into the sheets. The buzz of the silence droned on and on, and he started to strongly dislike the muffled tension that stuffed his ears. “Can--you, say something?”


Craig questioned with confusion, “What do you mean?”


“It’s just,” Tweek started, “You’re--ack, so deadly silent during this that I--get nervous.”


“Why don’t you talk instead?” 


“Fine.” Tweek huffed, “But I-I don’t want to look at-argh, you the entire time. It’s-too much pressure!”


Fine. I’m going to readjust both of us then. Breathe out for me so I can pull out.” 


With an exhale, Tweek relaxed his anal muscles to allow said fingers to slip out. The wet hand seized a pale thigh and edged it towards the front of the bed. “Turn around, elbows on the bed.”


Tweek followed the request, a little tentatively if he was going to be honest. His face looked at the pillows that leaned on the meeting between the wall and headboard. Cotton thread, fluffed with some type-of-bird down, the package had touted when he first got it. He wasn’t sure if could tell the difference between bird down and any other replacements. 


“Wanna talk about anything you’ve learnt?” Craig disrupted the pillow-debate in the blond’s head, “You said you didn’t like the silence.”


“Alright.” Tweek wracked his brain for any current knowledge about the last topic he had fully studied. “The, uh, Gilded Age was fueled by the increase of jobs for maleandfemale workers in cities in America, ughh, during the late 1800s.” He took a breath to stabilize himself as Craig re-inserted his fingers inside. “This led to the growth of incomes, errrr, and recreational time which created a-a bigger market for goods,” The blond snorted for he almost finished with the phrase ‘ and services ’.  “...and amusement for the new emerging middle-class citizens.” 


Craig made a noise to acknowledge his attention but didn’t interrupt Tweek’s ramblings.


“Philanthropy was also seen in the upper class who discussed-” Tweek squeezed his eyes shut as the swept actions of the digits created waves of tingles as he gyrated against the towel, “-the i-impact of donated, oh nng, wealth to benefit the public. Coined in the idea of ‘Gospel of Wealth’.” His legs shook again as the prostate was pressed and stroked against again, his exhale of breath unclenched the tension in his rectum. 


“New clerical jobs created by the Second Industrial Revolution allowed--ahh, female workers to f-uh, find, financial independence to a degree not offered before.” Tweek felt how a palm kneaded his ass while the fingers in his anal cavity continued its exploration to cause a heightened wave that threatened to explode. “...and this in turn created, um, it uh, created a market of consumer g-goods for clothes--argh, and household items.


“Th-the increase in-in-in, leisure time also meant a market for entertainment,” Tweek felt how his voice rose to a higher-pitch, all wobbly as he stuttered through his memories of what he had remembered. “ and evolved to include theatres-” Craig pressed a kiss against the rambling teen’s throat, “-amusement parks, circuses,” Another kiss, a little lower, a little harder, “dances and--ahh, sporting events in order to have, ack, fuh-fun using the middle-classes’ newfoundwealth.” 


The pressure on his neck became more consistent, and he wondered just how many hickies was Craig seriously going to leave on his poor neck. At this point, the taller teen’s hand that was not currently occupied by attending to his lover’s prostate had settled on his bare hip, and gave gentle squeezes in a rhythmic motion. The knot that pooled in Tweek’s stomach that had formed from the attention aimed at his prostate gland sparked trembles, one two, as his breath hitched on a moan, one, two, and he exhaled out the weak noises from being on the cusp of heightened pleasure, one. Two.


Tweek resumed his rambled mess of an information-dump, “In the experiences of the Upper class, de-debate had circulated in literary form. O-on the role--argh, of the wealthy to the restofsociety. A-A-Andrew Carnegie-” 


He stuttered out as the build-up of Craig’s admissions started to pay off in another leaking bout of clear liquid from his dick, that wept for some much needed attention, “-who owned steel mills, proclaimed in‘Gospel of wealth’ that the rich. The rich, er, uh, had a societal obligation--ack, to support the rest of society through mo-mo-monetary means and-” 


The tension that coiled itself in his body, the edges of the pleasure that was to be promised, the constant high he felt like he rode on for too long, just stimulation upon stimulation of yes, yes, yes . “-uh-uplift the poorerclasses throughfunding of librariesanduniversities.” 


Tweek couldn’t stop himself, just as he finished the last sentence the pleasure-dam broke in a spectacular fashion. The orgasm overcame him overwhelmed his thoughts, his thighs shook even with Craig’s hand for balance, the way that it knocked the breath out of him as he panted, groaned and fluttered his eyes shut as the sensation kept going on, and on, and on.  


The most shocking realization was that his penis was still hard - even though the orgasm had obviously occurred - and this was unexpected, not unwanted per say, but it had never crossed his mind as a possibility.   


Craig’s muffled sound of surprise didn’t take away from his continuous touches against the prostate, still just as stimulating even after the initial orgasm. The taller teen prodded at the same spot, and stabilized the shakes and shudders that his partner reacted to in the process. 


Tweek felt the touches sent aches through him, the raw pleasure had not died down, but instead was renewed even after his climax. How was this a thing? Who decided this was a thing? Why hadn’t they found about this earlier??


He rode through another wave - his moans at this point buzzed in his own ears so he couldn’t tell if Craig had spoken between his second - the tingles raced through him as he clenched and unclenched his ass and his fist. Too much, his brain either asked or came to the conclusion on this delicious tortuous experience. Another round, and the minutes had blended into each other in a smooth transition where he wasn’t sure if he had said anything, but his mouth was dry so it was possible that he did, and then he just blanked out after another crash as the euphoria bled out the coherent thoughts from his brain. 


A hand tugged at his abandoned erection, the warmed palm stroked up and down the shaft in a quickened pace and it finally, finally edged him over into a wet orgasm, the ejaculation of his own sperm shot onto the towel as his softened penis laid into the wet material. He felt like he had been completely drained of his energy. His sperm too, as he glanced at the amount of ejaculate that had culminated from having been pushed so much from both the prostate and his own penis being touched. 


He made a confused noise as he realized he was on his left-side, his knee having took most of his body weight, while the other leg had been slung up, propped over his partner’s arm. “Whe-when did we move, positions?”


“About ten minutes ago, I thought it might be a little easier for me to change the angle. I lost count after the second time I came though.” Craig’s answer was followed by a grunt as the teen relaxed his posture and lowered his lover’s leg onto the bed. “Think I lost you between the sixth and seventh time you convulsed on my fingers.” 


“Holy--shit. I didn’t even-ack realize we went for s-so long.” Tweek confessed as he collapsed onto the bed (the now really wet bed) and took gigantic deep breaths to steady himself. “That was completely crazy.” His legs felt like the jelly treats he had made once for the shop during a huge gelatin-phase where everyone wanted their own wiggling dancing jelly animal and he was put on kitchen duty to captialize (well more like his parent’s decision to capitalize on the sudden demand), and he remembered how he had refused to eat anything gelatinous for weeks in fear caused by the nightmares of a giant wobbling pig trying to eat him that might follow him to his REM sleep. 


He felt sticky and wetness all over his legs that probably seeped out from his asshole. He was definitely going to need another shower. A really long hot shower. 


Craig hummed in agreeance, “Told you so. Do you still think humans can’t be milked?”


The cold was biting, and Tweek wistfully bemoaned from the loss of the warm days that had prevailed before the icy trails of Winter had crawled over South Park. He didn't hate the cold, considering he had lived in the bitterness of snow for half of his life, and maybe it was like the consistency of the freezing weather in his life that he found comforting and- 


"You with me?" 


Tweek turned to the voice, shaken out of his thoughts. 


"Uh, y-yeah. Unf, just thinking." He replied as he twiddled his cold fingers. 


"Okay." Craig replied. The aforementioned boyfriend sat patiently on the dead log, a bag, heavy from the looks of things; from the mass it took up next to the boy's feet, it was brown like leather but texture like canvas, it was adorned with a thick rope around the top, with shadows formed around the things inside, all the things that made Tweek wonder what was being kept in the depth of that mysterious bag.  


"Sorry, nngh, did you say, something before?"


"Nothing important. Are you okay?" 


Tweek swept a gaze over his boyfriend and met eyes filled with longing, intrigue and watchfulness directed at the blond during his investigation. "Just c-cold. Y'know I didn't expect Winter to be so quick this year. Thought-ahh, we would have, a little more of Fall."


"You cold?" Craig gently parroted with an inflection of fuss. 


"A little," Tweek admitted, "Just, ahh, the tiniest bit, nothing to worry about..." He stammered as he waved his hands near Craig's face, goosebumps dotted across the uncovered skin. "I'll survive, I'm like that you know. Wonder Tweek, and everything. The elements are to my disposal." 


There's a crack of a smile, a tiny, minuscule one that pulled up Craig's disposition to transform from worry-wart to bemused. "If Wonder Tweek says so." Tease dripped from the statement with warm heat, nothing malicious, but rather huffy in fond exasperation and it came out in puffed breaths of misty air as Tweek watched the admonishment, and he couldn’t help being mildly miffed. 


"Shut-up. You're the one to talk! Remember when you - nngh - jumped off that shed roof, back when we still played. You broke--broke," Tweek fired back with the same amount of ridicule, "your arm and had, a cast for a month." Tweek almost choked out an amused laugh from the memories of Craig grumpily stuck in bed-rest while the other kids, instead of being deterred by Craig's magical dumbassery, seemed even more determined to notch up the elaborate mind-games when they participated in the Superhero world of Wham, Blam and Thank You Mam. 


"It was once ." Craig blandly muttered under his breath as he rathered that memory wiped from existence rather than brought up as a logical rebuff to criticism. "There were other things that the other groups did which were more stupid. Remember Scotch and the Ninja-phase, and it’s highly suspect on the shenanigans that McComrick gets up to.” Craig clicked his tongue, the sharp clack of muscle reverbated in between the conversation between them, “I swear I’ve seen that guy survive death situations before.”


Tweek let himself bathe in the rare times where Craig showed blatant interest to the world, a raw, unbridled reactive response to the stimulus of his peers, which was, by all accounts, had been a big-fucking-deal early on in their relationship, and still held that same Unicorn-once-in-a-blue-moon, Oh-My-God my boyfriend has feelings and interacted with the populace-type of deal. Again, it was a little rich for Tweek to celebrate such an occasion, he thought. In consideration of how momentous it was that he, the jittery, walking broken-record, uncontrollable person he was, could survive encounters with people in everyday circumstances.


Yet he managed somehow (he still wasn’t sure exactly how) because he had friends who supported him, and a boyfriend of...six years now, was it getting up to that number already, huh, time went really fast in South Park, or maybe that was just how time worked, dumbass, and said boyfriend was next to him and really-


The thought whoosed away. “Hey, come back to me babe.” 


“I. Oh God, I’m doing it again aren’t I? Sorry, sorry--argh, I’m not making this easy for you.” Tweek replied, hands wrung out like he knew he was being an airhead right in front of his too-patient boyfriend who looked worried, a pensive expression layered with concern and probably some annoyance (he thinks Craig does have a breaking point somewhere, because shocker, he is human). 


Craig’s question was tentative. Soothed, controlled and calm. “Is it the cold?” 


“Y-yes, no? I don’t know. It’s just really bad--aaah--today and, I don’t know why .”


Tweek almost flushed in sheer shame. It wasn’t his day today, his mind ran in circles, up and down hills and sprawled itself on grassy meadows before it jumped off a cliff into a ravine. 


Well that was kind of fucking morbid. 




Right, back on schedule. Tweek was supposed to be listening to his patient, logical-minded boyfriend and his conversations.


What was the last thing they talked about? Ducks? Was it ducks? 


They were at Stark Pond, but no birds could be seen as the chills of Winter froze the water into a sheet of ice and snow. So not ducks then. 


Was it something about school? 


Or work? 


No, that wasn’t it either.


What about something they watched online recently? 


A viral video? 


A stupid social media challenge? 


Christ, was it gaming and something about the last session with the Gang that he fucked up in? He wasn’t support damnit, he was equally DPS as he was buffs. It wasn’t his fault that he was expected to keep his eye on everyone’s health bar just because the weapon he used was considered ‘support’ in its move-set. He wasn’t support for damn’s sake. Not him. Not. Him. 


From the peripheral of his vision, he spied how Craig moved.


“Lets get off this stupid log and do something cool.” Craig supplied as he pushed himself off the log, hands swept across trousers to dust off tiny specks of dirt and snow. Craig peered at the sat boy and said. “Close your eyes for a second. I’ve got something for you.”


“F-for me?” Tweek flummoxed on the declaration. His previous train of thought broke as he focused on this request. He slapped his hands against his closed eyes, confused yet intrigued simultaneously. Tweek heard the soft crunch of feet against the snow that had spread across the ground, like icing sugar being topped off the baked earth’s floor embrace of Winter’s wrath, signalling that the other boy had moved. There was a rattle, clinks of something sharp and metal for a few seconds, and Tweek focused on it, the noise nerved him as he thought of dangerous things like knives, and swords, and the clash of smooth metal against each other in rapid blows and, and-


Oh. He was doing it again. His mind blew up before him, twisted the ambiance of his surroundings to a sick thought that he followed with mindless attention. Back to Earth, back to Craig, back to the sudden warmth wrapped around his face and neck...


Craig softly broke the thought, “You can open your eyes now.” 


So Tweek did, the trees emerged from the darkness, the light of the blinding snow reflected against his vision and he saw Craig, stood with hands behind his back, apprehension marred against the boy’s handsome features, like it was ready to anticipate for genuine disappointment to the surprise. 


“You’ve gi-given me,” Tweek observed the addition of knitted material slung across his shoulders, draped across his Winter wear, the accessory thick and bright with delicate patterns of red yarn knotted together. “A scarf?”


Craig nodded slowly, “Do you like it?” 


Tweek dug his frozen fingers into the scarf, and relished the way the material clung to his skin, as it offered reprieve from the harshness of the weather. “I-mmpf, loveit.” It wasn’t a lie. He did, as the gift had offered more than physical comfort, but also an intangible soft feeling of admiration and validation of his existence. 


The response seemed to neutralize Craig’s apprehension. The trapped tension coiled in the black-haired boy’s shoulders loosened to a light tautness instead, and he brought out his hands that held objects that glinted in the Winter light. 


Tweek burst out, surprised, “You got, ahh, ice-skates??” 


“Yep. I borrowed them. Thought we could get some mileage out of them.” Craig held the pair of skates forward, “These are yours. I’ve got my own pair in the bag.”


“How? Andwhy? Don’t push those things close to me, they’re--nngh--vicious, look at that blade! Holyshitshit, imagine if that got anywhere near skin, that would slice through the membrane like but-tter..” Tweek babbled on, and looked disapprovingly at the shoes. “If I put those on, I’m going to fall and slice my hands, and there’s going to be blood everywhere, and people are going to think you mur-murdered me!! Because I’m going to die, ahhhh, of blood loss and, oh Jesus.”


Craig shook his head, ”No you won’t. I’ll be helping you the entire way. And I brought something extra to protect your fingers too,” He stuck his hands into his own pockets, and pulled out a matching set of seafoam knitted gloves. “Here, this should help your worries of injuring yourself.”


Tweek stared at the presented gift, his heart raced a little as he murmured a quiet thanks and slipped them on. They fitted well, perfectly if he wanted to be honest. “How get--unf, my size so right?”


“I took notice when we held hands. I did guess though, shot in the dark in the end. Do you like it?”


“Yes! I love them too.” Tweek gave himself time as he admired the tactile gifts, the way that he enjoyed the new warmth that crept over his skin made his heart giddy. “Did--did you mean them to resemble Christmas colors?”


Craig blanched. “Not really. But I had been half-way finished before I realized the color scheme. And it’s not fully-Christmas. The green isn’t, unless you believe in a weird-ass pastel-colored green.” He shook his head like it was a scarring mental image, and Tweek shuddered not from the cold, but from conjured up an image of a grotesque reindeer who threw-up pastel vomit.


‘You’re really sweet.’ Tweek wanted to say. ‘You’re really, really endearing.’


“Oh God, you’re so--fucking adorable. ” Tweek gushed instead. The words leaked out on accident, but the compliment seemed to have transformed Craig’s posture to a completely relaxed stance.


The other boy murmured in a bashful manner, “Thanks.” Heat, genuine swirls of flushed anxiousness spread inside the blond. There was no way he could return the same gaze filled with patience and adoration without the urge to run away and curl into a ball while the overload of emotions passed. 


“Dork,” Tweek muttered, eyes averted. “I’m going to put these--on, and you, do yours.” The blond waved a gloved hand around and shifted so his back turned to his boyfriend as he slipped the ice-skates on.


He felt unsteady, like a baby animal who had been recently birthed and expected to run from the nearby dangers of coyotes and mountain lions. The pat pat of snow beneath his feet followed him as he wobbled precariously to the edge of the frozen lake. He stared hard at the ground, like it was possible his attention on the chilled pond to magically create a disruption in the cosmos.  


“If you glare so hard enough, you’re going to break the ice and fall in.”


Tweek yelped, “Wait! Se-riously ? That’s, nng, too dangerous!” He freaked out, his hands flailed as he tried to balance himself using the sheer power of his body weight and the support of empty air against the powers of gravity. 


“Shit. I was joking Tweek,” Craig said as he wrapped an arm around the blond as an attempt to steady his boyfriend. “I think you’ll be too light to even make a dent through the surface.”


Tweek scoffed, “Whatever dude. Let’s just get this show on the road.”


The grip wrapped around his torso loosened as Craig shrugged himself off Tweek’s body trembled from the sudden emptiness. 


The more confident boy said, “Let’s just start with one circle as a warm-up.


“I think you should hold onto me for the beginning.” Craig gestured a hand towards his boyfriend, hands similarly gloved in a navy blue knit. 


Tweek took the offered hand from Craig and let himself be pulled along as the latter glided over the ice, the soft sksshhh made by the blade became a steady routine as the two of them skidded across the pond. The blond could hear the muted tap on the ice from the metal blade, as Craig stopped at times to change direction; the sudden break from their momentum left Tweek breathless as he tried to copy his boyfriend’s smooth transition from stop to go. 


It was like a seesaw. Tweek could feel his pulse elevated and dropped in continuous bouts when they glided smoothly over the frigid ground, the only noise raised were their ice-skates as they moved across the space. 


Nothing mattered beyond this. 


The world was a blur against his vision as it blended the trees; thick dark green Fir decorated with white powdered snow, and the reeds; long lengthed sharp leaves that reached up towards the pitiful morning sun in the cold Winter days, and the mountains; purple-blue in the light hung with clumpy white clouds and snowy hats as they loomed across the background, together into one jumbled vision of blended colors that swirled in his vision. 


“Do you think you could go on your own?” Craig asked after they finished their warm-up.


The vision snapped shut, “Ahh, I could try.” Tweek replied as he felt his hand let go from the warm grip. ‘Might fall on my ass too,’ he thought. 


“Cool.” Craig stated. “I wanna see if I can still skate backwards after years of no practice.” He moved forward - or was it backwards now - and tucked his hands (Tweek almost made a pathetic noise) into his pockets.


The more cautious boy felt almost jealous of how effortless the blades slid over the pond, the relaxed stance, the posture of just being free baffled Tweek because it was fresh and new, and not-Craig . But, not a bad look for Craig, oh no. Just, out-of-place from the monotony of the dull attitude the black-haired boy’s usually directed at the world.


Craig had started to mature.


The realization hit Tweek like a bright, flashing fire truck, as mental epiphany laced itself with a mix of frustration, sorrow and yet happiness in its aftertaste. 


Craig Tucker had become a beacon of stability and hope so many years ago, barricaded from vapid rumors and false accusations, to become this thing they shared as they melded together to each other like clockwork. Where ever Tweek was, Craig went. If you saw Craig, there was a good chance of Tweek in the background. 


He wasn’t sure when the transition of them being such a thing happened. Had it been slow; a methodical process as they intertwined their lives together to become a package? Or had it been rushed; a cataclysm of raw emotions as they pooled their misplaced anger at the stupidity of their school, their stupid classmates and their stupid hometwon with stupid-ass events that had played out in the years?


Tweek felt how his head spun from the overload of this knowledge; it stun in both his head and heart. Then, he noticed how the pain wasn’t just in his head as he watched the world turn-upside down; the sky became the earth for a second, and then again the mountains loomed above as the world looked normal again. 


“Oh shit. Tweek are you okay?” Someone called; no it was Craig, his brain supplied. The blond shut his eyes from the sting that shot over his head. A beat passed and the pain dulled a little as a warmness of knit settled against his hair. He cracked an eye and poked at the intrusion, only to tug at woven string with soft strands. 


Um, this was…Craig’s...his...what...


“Just lay your head back for a bit.” Craig’s nasally voice cleaved through the blond’s chaotic thoughts, a gentle hand swept through the golden locks. “I don’t feel any bumps but don’t move. Tell me if you’re feeling any pain.”


“Oh Christ,” Tweek felt himself distressed, his hands gripped tightly, “I--ngh--don’t want a damn concussion...” He shut his eyes again as the pain ebbed away. With a light touch, Craig squeezed the injured boy’s hands, once, twice and then again in succession. Tweek’s death-grip loosened to allow his boyfriend’s hand, as the slow coldness of the ice reminded them where they were.


“Hey. I’m going to move you back to your place so you can rest. Can you walk, or do you want me to piggyback you?” The worried boy inquired. Tweek peeked a look at his partner’s face. There was confusion in his blue eyes, and a tight-lipped expression decidedly broadcasted his concern.


Tweek licked his dry lips, “I think-uh, I can manage…” The blond sighed and attempted to push himself up. “Just get me over, to the bench so I can take these damn--ung, ice-skates off.”


Craig nodded, and pulled the both of them to the empty bench just on the outskirts of the pond. “Does anywhere else hurt?”


A flutter passed through Tweek, “Nah, dude.” He curled his lips to a hopefully was a watery smile, “Are you offering to kiss my boo-boos away, Nurse Craig?”


Craig rolled his eyes, “Okay. Still here with me then. Get some sleep and then you can be a jokester after this passes.”


The banter reprieved his rapidly beating heart, the cocktail of emotions and whirlwind of his realization made him falter as he sat on the bench and watched Craig with careful hands, pulled off the ice-skates. “Did I...did I, argh, mess up today’s date?? I’m such an idiot, I totally jinxed myself on falling on my butt. God, how do you even dealwithme …?” The end of the comment pettered into a miserable whisper and Tweek was so sure there was no way his boyfriend could have heard it.


“You didn’t do anything wrong. Shit happens Tweek. It doesn’t matter if you fell over. You just get up and move on.” Craig countered and pressed the softest kiss upon his partner’s furrowed forehead. “Besides you deal with me. Doesn’t that make us even?”


“And you know what she said to me? She said that she would practice dancing with me next time she was free.” Clyde waxxed on, with metaphorical heart-eyes and a lovestruck tone that dripped sticky honey from every word, over the mess of his cafeteria meal. 


“Do you mind not poking my eye out with your fork thanks Clyde.” Token spoke as he brushed away the offending utensil with his own fork. “I like to keep both of my eyes when I finish graduating from high school.”


“Stop being gross dude.” Craig tutted as he picked apart the burger, and took out a sorry soggy tomato slice with an offending plastic covering of yellow along with it. “Do you think this tomato is still edible?” 


“I don’t even want to know. If it’s a yes, that means the school managed to tick off the vegetable nutrition requirement. If no, then,” Token grimaced and stared at his own food, “we probably will have some digestive issues.” 


“Wait, aren’t tomatoes fruit?” Clyde interrupted his own embarrassingly-long poetry session with a frown.


“They technically are.” Token replied. “But social-customs means it’s treated like a vegetable.”


Clyde squinted, and stuck a hand in a L-shape underneath his chin, “Hey Tweek, you’ve ever used tomatoes in your bread before?” 


“No?” Tweek answered, his fork half-way from his mouth. The pause caused the tater tot on his utensil to fall-apart and crash onto his plate in a sad mess. “Unless--you want, uh, it in a sandwich?”


“Nah. I was thinking more like fruit bread or some shit.” Clyde said as he held his pondering pose. “But people put it in smoothies, so it can’t be that bad in liquid form.”


“Ketchup is pretty liquid-y.” Craig injected. “And it’s sweet as fuck.”


“Ketchup doesn’t count. It’s pretty much fake-tomato.” Token rebutted. “Tastes different to real tomatoes.”


“What the heck is a ‘real tomato’ taste huh?” Clyde slapped the bench table for an extra effect. “Would you bet your life on it that it’s different? Would you bet,” Clyde took a dramatic breath, and pointed at Craig, “ his life on it?” 


“The fact that you’re asking whether artificial sugar-laden ketchup is different to ground grown-tomatoes is pretty shocking.” Craig monotoned unperturbed by his friend’s display, “But considering you drink Powerade like it’s water I’m not surprised.”


“Hey! What do you have against Powerade?” Clyde puffed out his chest in mock-anger. “It’s the official drink for athletes!”


Ath-letes Clyde. For people who lose a ton of sodium and sugar from exercise. Something you don’t do as often as you think you do.” Token explained like it was the third time the conversation had been brought up. 


“Tokeeen. Are you exercise-shaming me?” The whiny teenager had clasped his hands to his chest like it ached from the accusations. “You know E-Sports is real as any other traditional sport in terms of importance.”


Token sighed, “You damn know as well as I do that E-Sports does not burn energy in the same way an NFL game will.”


“Are you still bitter you failed the mission last-time.” Clyde spoke as he patted his friend’s shoulder. “There, there. I’ll promise to make sure you pass.” 


A static noise thundered over the cafeteria. The screech of a microphone turned on with a cough smothered the conversations of the room “Good afternoon students. If I could have all Juniors come to the auditorium after lunch is finished please. All Juniors to the auditorium after break, thank you.”


“Sounds ominous.” Token commented as he finished up his meal. 


Clyde complained as he took up his tray and plonked it on the area allocated for retrieval, “Sounds like a pain in the ass to cross the hallway. You know how feral kids can get to go to last period.”


“You’ll live.” Craig said. The teens exited the cafeteria where the horde of kids transversed the narrow space as they bumped into each and figuratively growled at each other’s existence.    


“Easy for you to say considering you can just boulder through with your tall-ass.” Clyde scoffed, a little more agitated as he was pushed aside from the onslaught of students. “Ah-watch it!”


“Oh jeez. Um--this is going to take time…” Tweek mumurred, constriction rose from his stomach caused from the savage students squashed side-by-side, a delicate battle for dominance in the hallways.


“Hey. Move . I’m gay.” Craig spoke - demanded - into the sea of people as he barged through and the confusion caused a seconds-delay as the students stopped, bewildered from the declaration. 


This momentary lapse of judgement caused enough space to appear where the surly teen decided to barrell past. Tweek who had held onto Craig’s arm for balance was pulled through, Clyde who spied the opportunity that arose abruptly grabbed onto the closest part of Tweek (which was the shoulder), and Token who had only a few seconds to react, followed his friends by hand (Clyde’s to be exact) as the line of teens sped through the parted waves of dumbfounded students. 


Clyde gleefully commented on the successful distraction to the blond with an innocent throw-away joke, “All aboard the Craig train. Choo Choo?” 


Token’s frantic voice rose above the cacophony in a desperate tone that stood between a cough and a croak, “Please don’t ever say that again. You do not want to know what that’s implicating.” 


Tweek fumbled from the sheer tone of his friend’s words, the innocuous innuendo dropped by Clyde completely slipped his mind until Token brought it up. He felt a little weird about it, a little defensive, more confused and topped with the tiniest voice that said ‘huh ’ in a whispered afterthought.


“I hate when they chuck everyone in the auditorium.” Craig said as they were ushered into the room. “It’s uncomfortable as hell to sit in.”


Tweek snorted, and nudged his boyfriend carefully aside so he could squish past and settle on his partner’s left - the previous lingering thought banished to the wicked realm of something to ponder at midnight with insomnia. “That’s because--you’re too ungodly tall for these seats.”


“Did I ask to be this tall? No. Should have some damn regulations on the amount of kids they throw in here. Fire safety.” Craig muttered a little darkly. 


“Don’t think--ngh, they’re be bringing that up in Student Council.” Tweek cheekily shot back as he sat down. 


“Might be easier if they allowed us to bring popcorn in.” Cylde added with bemusement as he scoped out the rest of the crowd of students that entered the area. 


“God no. Imagine the clean-up. That would take hours.” Token shook his head in dismay at the idea. He grimaced at the presence of the Principal at this year-meeting. “Think someone got suspended or expelled?


Clyde said, “Doubt it. Usually they would sweep that type of drama under the rug. Less messy I heard for media to get involved if the kid thought it was unwarranted.” 


“M-maybe it’s something good then?” Tweek offered as he spied Wendy’s waving hand. He replied with his own sheepish wave and the girl prodded at her blonde companion, as Bebe frowned at first from the poke, before she brightened up when she saw the reason for the intrusion. She mouthed something, and Tweek grappled with the words of ‘text later’ after a few fumbled tries.


“I hope so. I’m just waiting for Winter break to be here already so I don’t have to look at my textbooks again.” Clyde sighed a little somberly. 


“You barely open them when school is on.” Token pointed out, matter-of-factly. “You literally just passed biology.”


“With your help yes. Don’t need to remind me. I’m already going to be naming my first-born son after you.” Clyde refuted, a little distracted as he picked up on Tweek’s communication partner from the lower areas of the seats.


“I don’t think you should be doing that.” Token said as he tried to steady his attention towards his friend, “What are you looking for?”


“Oh don’t you da-” Craig started already knowing where it was going to go.


Clyde clasped his hands together, and looked like he was about to belt out a ballad,“My darling, the love-of-my-life, the beacon of hope, where my dreams come true, the goddess of prosperity and goodness, lady luc-” 


“SHUT UP!” Someone yelled from the crowd. Clyde frowned from the interruption of his poetry, while the subject-at-hand had turned around, aware from the curious faces from the Gang.


“Is this on? Great, okay. So. Hello Juniors. I know a lot has been happening, and holidays are just around the corner, so I’ll be quick.” The Principal spoke into the microphone, and shushed the rambatious chatter. “After the fundraising activities from the last few weeks, we have finally made enough to finance Junior Prom this year!”


“HECK YEAH!” Someone yelled from the crowd. The noise resounded through the room, a crash of excited sounds echoed off the walls as the students celebrated the good news. 


“Uh--hold on students. There’s a just a little more to announce before you return to class.” A ruffled Principal said into her microphone, “So, a Prom committee with names will be released later today, all applicants will be considered so send in your form if you’re interested. Details on the exact date will be set later, but we’re expecting to hold it in March. Tickets will be sold two weeks before the date so get excited!” 


“Oh hella! We managed it, us lads are going to party!” Clyde hooted as he bounced up from his seat in excitement.


“Great. Prom.” Token spoke, reserved in his tone as he pushed himself off with more weariness than the brown-haired boy, “This is going to be a tough several months.”


“Why do you say that?” Tweek asked as he pulled Craig’s hand up, attention more attuned to the girl’s infectious laughter and chatter. “I thought Prom was...good?”


“Yeah what Tweek said.” Craig shrugged as the boys began to walk to their shared class of English. 


“Dude. Prom means dates. Dates means asking. Asking means elaborate ‘Will you go to Prom with me’ proposals. That means pressure to not disappoint your date. Disappointment means rejection. It’s pretty simple.” Token explained with his hands as he looked dead-serious at his friends. 


“Yeah, exactly what Token said.” Clyde nodded just as serious with a fervent look in his eyes. 


“That’s it?” Craig deadpanned.  


“What do ya mean ‘that’s it’? It’s serious business you know. There’s a lot riding on pulling off a successful Prom Proposal. You’ve got the target in mind to satisfy, and also her friends, and then your friends, and then whoever is watching over.” Clyde listed out with his hand as reference for each point. “You either win as a hero, or die as loser.”


“No you really don’t.” Craig said. “Watch. Hey Tweek. Wanna be my date to Junior Prom?”


The blond felt flabbergasted at his boyfriend’s question, “Uh! Sure?!” Tweek answered without hesitation, as he looked more shocked than affronted at the impromptu proposal. 


“Dude! You can’t just...oh my God.” Clyde gasped, and stared desperately at Token for support. 


“Wow. Uh, I stand corrected then.” The black teen said with similar astonishment as he entered the classroom. 


“See. Not so hard.” Craig sat down on a wooden seat and pulled out his notebook. “Hey, what was the homework due today?”


Tweek stared at his notes, the words swirled in his vision, as he tried to pick out the strokes that made up each letter like he had tried to grasp flour and found that it slipped from his hands as it powdered everywhere, and he deciphered (with much difficulty) his response from last night. He picked at his fingernails, and bit his lip in nervousness. Craig’s blunt proposal startled him from the easiness that the other teen had asked, and it felt like a presence had been taken off his shoulders. 


Hypothetical pressure. 


Prom was...well, it was definitely something he didn’t think too much about as a sacred event. He knew that the whole point for the baking fundraising was to be able to afford Prom, and it seemed like it was a success considering he had almost little to none leftovers (his dad had said it was the best marketing PR stunt they could dream of since his baked treats had been a hit with the locals), which therefore meant that the school’s goal had been met on that front, but still.


He didn’t delve too much about it. He watched Prom as a plot device on the horror movie the Gang had decided to get together and view around Halloween (it was a pretty sweet movie, but also terrifying because one person should not have that power to take down an entire room on the drop of a hat, he’s gonna be way nicer to every kid he meets just-in-case...), and he’s seen and heard enough American Pop Culture about Prom in movies, songs, books and God knows-what-else to have a semblance of an attitude caused by Prom expectations.


But Prom was, just Prom


So Craig’s...uh...proposal of sorts kinda came out of the blue - not in a necessarily bad way - but a ‘it’s not really a big deal’ attitude compared to the intensity both Clyde and Token had expressed.


It just felt straightforward with his boyfriend’s blunt question, no frills, no stupidly intricate plans with random people to witness the show. No pressure. 


It was nice, so much more memorable in his opinion (not that he expected to weigh much in the gossip columns of infamous Prom proposals). 




“Oh finally! The bell. Let’s go.” Clyde said. The teen stretched with an exaggerated motion, “I can’t wait to kick some ass. Token, your parents are out today right?”


“Mmm. Yeah they are.” The other teen replied as he delicately took out something shiny. “I’ve got keys today, so I can drive us home.” 


“Great.” Craig said. “Beats taking the school bus.”


Tweek confusedly closed his things, he didn’t remember the class at-all. None of the discussion - did they have any - imprinted itself in his mind? He wished he paid a little more attention, but whatever. He could ask his boyfriend for any notes he missed.


“Hah! Look at all these suckers.” Clyde stuck out his tongue at the crowd of people at the bus-stops. “It’s pretty shit weather today too, so even worse getting home with all this snow.”


“Don’t jinx us.” Craig berated as the Gang got into Token’s car. 


“Meee? I would never. I’m your good-luck charm.” Clyde said as he called for ‘ shotgun’.  


Craig rolled his eyes in response. “No you’re not. Tweek is my good-luck charm.” 


“I’m your what?” The blond questioned, his mind more preoccupied at the scene of students huddled together like penguins he saw in a documentary once.


“Good-luck charm babe.” The chull-wearing teen repeated as he slid into the backseat with his boyfriend. A light flush settled on Tweek’s pale cheeks, his throat a little tighter, as the compliment curled itself in his stomach with a comfortable warmth. 


“Seatbelts on?” Token asked with a cursory glance at his companions. 


“Yep.” Craig answered. The teen looked at his boyfriend. “You alright? You’ve been kinda quiet.”


“Tired. I--think. Just--um, always feel like I should be sleeping.” Tweek answered, his attention on leather seats. 


“Take a nap on the way to Tokens’?” Craig offered, as he swayed down to present his shoulder. “You can lean on me if you want.”


Tweek humphed. “Alright, if, you insist.”


He closed his eyes, the dull strain of his eyes pounded for a few minutes as he got himself more comfortable, the muffled chats between the front-seat died down as he was vaguely aware of Craig’s “Shush. Tweek’s taking a nap.” as he felt himself drift off, the crunch of the tyres on the snow as the background noise lulled him….


“Hey. We’re here.” 


Something bumped him, which caused him to paw pathetically at the offending obstacle from his sleep. A poke with more urgency prodded at his cheek, and it took him a few seconds to realize they had arrived at the destination.


“Grr--will you stop that. I’m awake.” He complained as he fended off his boyfriend’s grabby hands. 


“Whatever. Good rest?” Craig queried as they slipped out from the car. Clyde and Token stayed at the front a little longer before they exited the car with their backpacks in tow. 


“Yeah. Itwas.” Tweek answered truthfully. “I totally zoned out, urgh, during last-period. Did we do--anything important?”


“Some questions due next week. Nothing too hard, you up-to-date for the chapters we needed to read?” 


“I--think so?” 


“Should be fine then. I’ll send you my notes from today’s class later.” 


Clyde interrupted with an excited roar, “Let’s get this LAN-party going!” 


“I’ll set-up first. You guys get your laptops out. There’s stuff in the kitchen you can grab for snacks. To be honest, I probably don’t even need to point out the food since you guys love to help yourself anyway.” Token said. 


“We talking the nice healthy stuff or the really delicious but oh-so-bad things?” Clyde asked as he made a beeline for the kitchen.


Token stared at his friend’s retreating figure. “I want to say the first, but knowing from past experiences…”


Tweek raised a half-hearted hand, “I’ll help--with snacks?” 


“Go ahead.” Craig said as he followed the black teen to the living room. “I’ll help Token set-up.”


Tweek slipped into the kitchen; a place he felt a comfortable aura of homely walls and friendly routines even though it wasn’t his house. 


Actually, if he wanted to be honest, there were other places that sparked the same level of welcoming that included but were not limited to Craig’s house. Was it strange that his boyfriend’s place seemed, if he had to put a label on it, strangely cheerful? If he ignored the weird way the Tuckers communicated with their non-verbal actions, their household could even be considered harmonious. 


The Tweaks didn’t have the same relationship, and it wasn’t like he had blow-ups that Craig had mentioned before, but it...just wasn’t the same. 


His dad seemed to swing between inquisitive interest in his general well-being, to almost laissez-faire to his existence. Then was the presence of his mom; she was a passive figure in his life who followed his father diligently wherever he went (point-in-case: the Summer trip after his Sophomore year). His mom didn’t give the same vibe of motherly concern that Laura gave off; the small-talk that his boyfriend’s mom often did as she engaged with him during dinner over at Craigs’ was often very sweet and attentive. 


Clyde nudged his friend with a startle, “Aw man. Token really did make a vegetable platter. Bummer. Hey, at least there’s soda.” 


Tweek glanced at the food platter that Clyde held with both hands: shredded carrots, cherry tomatoes and celery with some sort of dip in the middle in a white bowl. The mentioned soda were clustered together on the edge of the kitchen table, 12-ounce cans in black and red designs. There was another sole can, a contrast to the rest in a deep brown and white design with tiny beans with indiscernible writing. “Token’s got--ahh, diet coke. And something else?”


“Yeesh. Talk about healthy choices. Today’s a day with the boys, he’s gotta live a little. I think this might be yours, it’s like iced coffee? Can’t read the writing.” 


“I think--he’s more, ugh, worried about your health. That’s...nice of Token.”


Clyde theatrically pouted, but said no more. The two of them carried the food and drink to the living room where the laptops were set-up on the long banquet table of dark oaken wood; chargers and plugs riddled the floor as the teens who set up the devices weaved around the mess on the floor. 


“We’ll clean up before we leave.” Craig said as he stared at the intertwined wires.


Token responded with a neutral tone as he picked up the scattered backpacks from the doorway of the room, “You better. My parents are still pissed from Halloween. Kiss gaming hang-out sessions goodbye if there’s a repeat of that night.”


Craig moved the solid wooden chairs closer together. The tallest teen peered at the vegetable platter for a moment and chucked a thumb at the table, “Mind putting down the snacks in the middle?”


“Sure. Wanna throw down the cans while I’m at it Tweek?” Clyde nodded and gestured with his head towards the blond.


The cans were placed vertically in a neat row near the middle of the table. Wasn’t it a rule not to have liquids around computers? Tweek fiddled with his fingers as he stood, unsure of what to do next. Should he ask to help, or was it easier for them if he stood in the background and watched over instead?


“Alright. We should be good. Let’s get started.” Token announced as he finished his check of the set-up.


Clyde hooted and plopped himself on a chair, “Aw hellaaa! I can’t wait. Don’t worry dude, we’ve got you covered. You’ll get through the story quests, I promise.”


Token dropped himself on his own chair, and grinned, “I damn hope so. I can’t believe I’m the only one who hasn’t seen the cutscene yet.”


Tweek found himself nudged forward as his partner pulled the blond towards an empty seat. Craig silently tilted his head at the empty spot and Tweek stepped forward and sat down, his elbows on the table as his chair was pushed in. 


The teenagers settled on their respective chairs, their postures eager and excited, celery with a generous load of ranch in one hand, and the other clean hand which furiously tapped on the keyboard in rhythmic fashion. The soft hiss of an opened coke can broke the cycle of c lack, clack, clack that had built up through the combined effort of the four teens, with an unspoken strategy conveyed in glances that was only shattered when one of them burped. 


Clyde excused himself, “Hey, where did Jimmy go?”


Token answered as he crunched on a carrot stick with a delicate dip of ranch on one side, “He said he had a date, and couldn’t make today’s gaming session.”


Clyde made a soft noise of understanding, and carried on, “Did any of you sign up for Prom committee by the way?”


“I did.” Token peered over his screen with a wave. 


Clyde blanched out of jest, “Really? Why?”


“Thought it will be a good experience, extra curriculum and everything. I should be finding out whether I got in later.”


The brown-haired boy ran his free-hand through his hair absently, “God you’re so organized it’s scary. I can’t relate.”

“...I literally just filled out a form and gave it in. That’s the least amount of effort.” Token commented, more amused than offended, “If I do get in, then my afternoons leading up to Prom will be hellish.”


Tweek intervened, curious, “So, you’ll be er, really busy?” Obviously he wanted his friend to succeed, because if anyone would ever question his thoughts he would vehemently deny any negative thoughts about Token, but gaming sessions were so, just, typical and routine that he felt it would be sacrilegious to disturb such a holy plan. 


“Yeah. Hey, stop tripping me Clyde!”  Token said with a little peeve in his gibe, “I applied for treasurer, so hopefully I’ll get that.” There was more goad in his next words, “Do you mind not messing up my combo?”


Clyde struck back from the taunt, “Hey, not my fault you didn’t get the effect from your outfit. You should have pre-planned moi’s presence when you started the quest.”


“Can you two stop bickering and focus on the mission? We have a time-limit remember?” Craig gritted through his teeth, his lips peeled back as a touch of nag threatened to bark out. 


Tweek picked up on the same irritation, his words mirrored the same intensity as he snapped, “...Clyde, grrr--get out of my way.”


Clyde gasped, his actions theatrical and exaggerated, as he felt like he was being chaffed, “Even you!? Tweek, I thought you were my man! How could you?”


Craig kept his glare at his screen, but the threat rang audible anyway, “Eyes on the screen. If you die, I’m going to fucking eviscerate you.”


The gasp, the slap of a hand across an open mouth could be seen and heard from the blond’s senses, “ Jeesus. Tweek how do you even deal with this mess?”

“...That’s--mild. I’ve said, nnh, worse.” Tweek cooly answered, his attention more focused on finishing his combo and getting his weapon’s quirk out. 


Clyde whistled, or at least made an attempt at the action, “Oh wow. So I guess the dirty-talker in the relationship is Tweek then. I didn’t expect that…”


Craig sliced through, “Can we talk about less what Tweek and I get up to and finish this goddamn quest so Token can join us for the next one.”


The flicker of the team’s health bars captured his attention, and Tweek called out, his attention switched and a little absent-mindedly, “Hey, dear, you’re--gonna die if, hahh, you don’t heal right now.”


“Crap. Clyde stop being a distraction.” Craig reprimanded, his previous irritation bled out as it drained away into the depths of the metaphorical pool, as the tallest-boy’s attention readjusted to nurture his partner’s casual use of a pet-name. Tweek was almost sure he could feel the warm vibration that emitted from the direction of where his boyfriend sat (although that could just be his laptop having a meltdown, he couldn’t rule that out as his mind was still focused on the game). 


“What?! I didn’t do anything! You two are ganging up on me.” Clyde whined, a little more pitiful. 


“Can we put a filter on everything you say? Because everything you say makes you a hoe.” Token said bluntly. 


“I’m not a hoe! I wish I was popular enough for that title. But my one-true-love is the only sweetheart for me.” Clyde rebutted, less offended at being called promiscuous, but at the fact that he didn’t deserve such a title.  


“We can get it. You’re head-over-heels for Bebe. You do know you’re not dating right? It’s a little concerning how much you’re invested in your non-existent babies.” Token explained plainly. 


“Oi. Shut-up. ‘Besides you’re the one reading all the subtext in my words. Who is the one who has their mind-in-the-gutter?” Clyde shot back, as he stuffed a bunch of green and orange sticks into his mouth with a stupidly large amount of dressing. Drips of the white sauce pushed from his open lips as he tried to scoop the remnants with one finger into his cavernous mouth.   


“Touche. Still, you two can back-me-up right?” Token missed the exchange of chopped vegetables being crammed into the orifice as the more entertaining event was currently on the screen as four characters ran around like headless chickens. 


“Sorry, you’re the weird one Token.” Craig injected, not apologetic at all. 


“Nhhhh, well. Sometimes--it can be a little strange…” Tweek said quietly, but not quite enough considering Clyde picked up on the agreement. 


“See! Tweek agrees.” The boisterous teen proclaimed as he stuck his index finger into the air in victory. 


Craig hummed, “So what, it’s a tie then?”


“Sure? But, uhh, no one wins--the argument then.”


“Speaking of Bebe,” Clyde started and pressed his raised index to against his mouth in reaction, “Shush, I know you big babies, you don’t want more of my thoughts, but this still concerns you Token. What are your plans for Promposal?”


There was a pause, a resigned sigh before said boy answered, “Could we pretend that I don’t have to do it. Like I pulled a Craig & Tweek, and Nichole and I resolved it like civil people.”


“Nope.” Clyde popped the p, “You still have to deal with the heteronormative bullshit. So, what’s your concept?”


Token remarked, “Can I say I really haven’t thought that far?”


“Huh really? I thought you had it pre-planned?” Clyde asked. 


“You would be usually right, but there’s just been a lot on my mind. I mean, I have rough ideas but nothing fleshed out. You?” Token clarified with resignation in his posture. 


Craig retorted, “He’s not going to shut-up now since you’ve given him the all-clear.” 


Tweek disclosed,“I don’t know, I think--it’s kinda sweet.” It was, because there were few things that got Clyde so tongue-tied and brain vomity that it was almost nice to see someone else who currently flew on the wings of love. 


“Right, Tweek! Like my plans are so romantic, but.” Clyde declared, “You know how popular Bebe is.” Said teen glossed through his fears with a shaky voice devoid of his usual perkiness, “There’s just so many other guys who probably wanna ask her out. Hell, she is head cheerleader. People probably expect her to go to Prom with a linebacker.” He stopped in thought, his brain whirled to another idea,  “Hey, you’ve talked to Marsh right Craig? Do you think he’s gonna ask Bebe out by any chance?”


The chullo-wearing boy took a sip from his can, “No I doubt Stan will.” 


The faux sporty-teen asserted, “Hold on - you’re first name basis with Marsh? Craig, you cheater! I can’t believe you!”


“I’m not even going to answer that with a legitimate response, because right now you’re going to die.” Craig punctuated the sentence with a quick judgmental side-eye. 


Clyde pouted, “Stop threatening me with bodily harm.”


“No. I mean you’re going to die on-screen if you don’t heal.” Craig replied more calmly, 


“Huh? Oh shit-”


“...You died.” Token stated with a matter-of-fact tone, “Clyde, get out of my house.”


“Break?” Tweek requested as he watched the tension build up from the volley of conversations almost explode. 


Craig affirmed the idea, “Sure honey. Are your hands alright?”


“Ahuh. I’m fine. What about yours?” Tweek answered, his gaze peaked at his own fingers which had been set on his keyboard for the entire time.  


His boyfriend’s response was steady, “I’m okay. I’m gonna piss really quickly.”


“Alright?” Tweek felt mitigated at the declaration. The taller teen stood up, and walked away, the empty can in one hand to be thrown away as the teen took long strides out of the room, his steps measured like he retraced the same path the nth time. 


Token brushed out his phone, and swiped on the screen with a little nervousness in the action, a deep inhale for the dreaded news, “Ah. I got an email.” A quick scan of the email left Tweek and Clyde with bated breath, as they waited and hoped for the good news.


“Looks like I got in the Prom committee.” Token’s strained smile formed into a real one, which left his eyes feverish with accomplishment, and his happiness just as contagious. 


“Oh hey--congrats!” Tweek commented, his genuineness real because it was his friend’s achievement, and any selfish thoughts were squashed down. 


Clyde whooped, more physically excited in his show of appreciation with a clap of his hands, “Yeah, knew you could do it. My man!”


“Thanks for your assurance Clyde.” Token rolled his eyes, but out of friendly affection. 


“Did you get treasurer?” Tweek asked. 


“Yeah I did. Thanks for all the assurance guys,” Token eased his next words out, “you do know that means I won't be able to organise as many gaming sessions for the future right?”


Clyde replied, “Boo, I take it back. Don't join the prom committee Token.”


“Don't be selfish Clyde,” Tweek found himself say ( liar, liar liar his brain screamed out), “besides you can just join our study sessions for Comp One with Craig and I.”


“Guys you're too good to me. You're going to make me cry…” Clyde said, relieved. 


Token paused, not sure how else to alleviate the mollified teen, and added tentatively, “Can you do it after I finish this quest line.”


The pooled suspense was sucked out as the brown-haired teen snorted, which caused a wave of similar looseness in the two other teenagers at the table. 


“Round two anyone?” Clyde replied back with his usual upbeat-self. 


“Same weapons?” Tweek asked, his reply furiously concentrated on the game and not any other thoughts of being a pseudo-friend because no, he was better than that, he knew he was.


Token wisecracked his response with a smile, “Nah I'm going to switch. Can't deal with Clyde and his entire existence. I’m going to change to a ranged weapon.”


“Are we starting again?” Craig plopped himself on his seat, and grabbed a celery stick, dipped it in ranch, and popped it in his mouth. The crunch of the vegetable treat and the way that the teen sucked the remaining sauce of his thumb sparked a dust of blush on the blond’s cheeks just as he was going to respond. 


He was supposed to say something right? Boyfriend expectations and all, so he returned with a shaky, “You're back huh.”


Craig caught the pinken look sprinkled across the blond’s face, the struck expression a little incredulous but nevertheless placated through the dip of Tweek’s parted lips. With a steady look, Craig retorted, “Yeah I finished pissing. Is everyone ready?”


“Give me a sec, let me just change my outfit.” Token injected, “Okay. Let me load up the quest. And, alright, everyone join now. And no one die this time.”


Clyde whimpered from the glare thrown his way from his friend, “Don’t look at me like that, it was an accident, I swear.  You’re giving me performance anxiety.”


“Gross.” Craig maintained his composure and stretched his shoulders before he returned to his laptop - but not without giving a careful pointed glance at his boyfriend. 


Said boyfriend decidedly had thought that he should guzzle down his coffee can in a feeble attempt to avoid any direct eye-contact because this was not the time or place to be mildly stimulated for simply eating a vegetable stick (because he was not putting that on the turn-on list, no matter what the Internet might argue otherwise) - but really it probably was the thumb-sucking and the whole white sauce that did him in. Goddamn Token, he was never going to look at ranch dressing the same way again.   


“I'm not gonna comment, because I'm just gonna ignore that you said that.” Said the teen who had unknowingly been jokingly cursed in the blond’s head, “Ok, we’re in.”


Clyde asked as the team were half-way in the quest, “So, what’s everyone’s plans for Christmas?”


Token answered during a lull in the game, “I think my parents are going overseas for their anniversary,  so guess who's going to be house sitting for few weeks alone…”


“Sweet, so that means sleepovers for like days right?” Clyde snickered. 


“Maybe, mom just said to keep the guests to just you guys. Because she trusts you guys, and the fact that I will probably lose car privileges if they find out if I threw a party like last time.” Token finished with a spectacular combo in-game in a flourish. 


“Noted. I think my dad just wants to do some family bonding. He's got all these books and he's been trying to sort of get us to do team building and stuff.” Clyde resumed his train-of-thought, 

“I think he wants us to go camping, but it's really goddamn cold now so I doubt that’s gonna happen. What about you two?”


Tweek carefully revealed the murmured conversations he had overheard one afternoon while he was in the backroom “So, dad's been saying something about expanding the franchise, he--might be taking some trips to, uh, Denver.  I'm guessing mom’s gonna go with him. I'm probably--nngh, going to be just in South Park for the entire Christmas.”


Craig responded with a dull revelation, “Pretty sure we're just staying at home. Maybe some family might come over for Christmas. Who knows.”


Clyde nodded, and remarked,“So that means we're going to be here. That's so good,  considering like this might be one of our last few Christmas’ together.”


“Why do you say that?” Token paused from his game, his character took a breath to change inventory, as the black teen looked up to see his friend’s face pull a ‘duh’ expression.  


“Well ya see, next year it's going to be our senior year, and I don't think a lot of us are going to stay in South Park once we graduate High School.”


“Huh, I guess you're right.  I'm already thinking of which universities to apply to, and none of them are local.  Well, not local in where I can live in South Park. Commuting is going to be a total bitch.” Token sighed. 


Clyde made a noise of acknowledgement, a sound that came from the back of his throat in a hum, “Oh, yeah I get that.  What courses are you looking at?”


“Something, maybe Medical. I'm tossing up between Law or Med, haven't decided what I want to really specialise in.” 


Craig deadpanned his explanation, “... Aren’t they two completely different Industries…?”


“Okay, yeah but both of them are pretty hardcore in getting into. Which is why I want to start bulking up my extracurricular activities now. The Universities look for that type of stuff. How about you guys?” Token drew out his response with a sip in-between his spoken thoughts. 


“Well I'm probably gonna stay in little ‘ole South Park. There's a community college nearby that I can probably catch transport to and from for a bit.” Clyde started, a little daunted at first, but his pace picked up as no one belittled his confession, “They've got some business marketing courses that might be good for me to help out dad's shoes business.  And I think Dad might be a bit lonely if I leave. Think all the father-son bonding is a sign.”


“Wow Clyde. That’s actually really deep.” Craig intoned, his comment gentle and genuine. 


Clyde beamed, his smile stretched across his face, “What about you then?”


“There's an Astrophysics course I want to get into. Which is why I'm doing the math and science subjects right now. It’s pretty intense, but I think it'd be worth it.” Craig admitted. 


Clyde hooted, “Yooo, that’s really tight.”


“Yeah, I agree with Clyde. You seem pretty set on it.” Token reaffirmed the assertion. 


Craig said, “Of course. It's something I've always planned to do.” 


“Hey, what about you Tweek? Are you gonna be following Craig as well?” Clyde asked. 


The blond traced the metal rim of his half-empty can, the smooth texture of the metallic material gave him something to focus on as he emptied his thoughts. “Hah, uhhh. I’m not sure. I guess Dad would want me to run the store here i-if he manages to open up another franchise somewhere else.  Maybe it if I could do some sort of business course that will be useful for the coffeeshop…”


“Oh hey we can be major buddies! Late night study sessions!  We can be each other's moral support!” Clyde offered a high-five, delighted by the idea. 


Tweek slapped back with an unsteady hand, “Yeah that s-sounds good..?” 


Craig looked a little stern, the lightest frown had pinched itself on his lips. A similar grimace had stretched itself on his forehead, but he said nothing.  


Clyde drew the conversation back, “Okay back to business. We're doing much better this time.  No one's actually died.”


“You mean you haven't died.” Token teased. 


“Token, my wingman,  how can you be this cruel!” Clyde barked back, equally as jokingly. 


“Screen. Eyes. Death.” Craig said with deadpan humour. 


“Craig, take a breath.” Tweek spoke, his free-hand picked up a carrot - not a celery piece - and dipped it in the lightest touch of the dressing (Craig did have a little on his last piece so he wasn’t going to be sadistic, even if it almost gave him a heart attack). “Here have a carrot.”


Without any hesitation, the monotoned teen wrapped his lips around the offered stick and bit through it with a chomp, “Twanks.”


Clyde scrunched his nose, “Oh god, you guys are so weird. You're like on the same wavelength.”


Tweek shrugged his shoulders, all loose and relaxed like slime. His character on the screen swung his weapon as he finished a combo. A second later, he struck the killing blow, and the rest of his teammates celebrated the success of the quest. 


“Holy shit we finished. Finally, I thought this was going to go on forever.” Clyde breathed out, his arms raised to the sky in a V-shape. 


“Yeah the HP gets super high with all four of us.” Token pointed out as he picked a vegetable stick from the dwindled numbers of the healthy platter. 


“Second break--anyone?” Tweek asked his friends, a flutter that stirred in his stomach as he revered his contribution to the game. He could feel the curious gaze that burned from his boyfriend’s direction, a flamed curl that tightened behind his eyes as he closed them for a second and opened them up again as he thought, oh , they didn’t discuss this beforehand did they?  


“Yes please. I think I've lost feeling in my fingers.” Clyde bemoaned. 


Token laughed, and then paused, his glance in particular prickled Tweek’s skin, “I can see that. I'm going to grab another round of cans, Clyde why don't you come and help?”


The shorter teen made a noise of protest, but was pulled towards the kitchen by his friend who instead gave him a shake of his head. As the sounds patted away from the dining room, Tweek found himself alone with his boyfriend, who had nothing else to do but stare with an expected expression; a prompt for discussion between the two of them that had been left. Tweek wetted his lips, the dryness of his mouth felt rough, and his hands were sweaty. 


“So you’ve got everything set-up?” He spoke, as strongly as he could. His question fired with confidence as he returned the gaze. 


“You’re serious about Business?” Craig replied, his interest piqued. 


“Er...kinda.” Tweek remarked, “Were you thinking about it, when we were under the stars that night?”


Craig maintained his mildly-amused expression, “That night where you sucked me off so hard I think I saw my own hypothetical stars?”


Tweek scoffed, “Dickhead. I’m trying to be serious.”


Craig answered, “I know. Hmm. Yeah, I was referring to that back then. You’re not worried are you?”


The blond spieled his worries, spilled over like a bowl of milk that went everywhere which reached to every crevice as he unlocked the thoughts kept in a secret hold of liar , you idiot , why even bother,  “I-I mean. The stats say that forty-percent of long-distance relationships fail, and it takes typically less than five months before a LDR breaks down, so…”


Craig stopped the tide of negative speech with a soft rumble, “And so what. We’ve got the internet. And I can probably organise some transport by the time senior year is over. I’m already a quarter-way through saving up for the down payment for the car.” 


“Huh--really?” Tweek said. 


“Yeah. I was gonna tell you today. Well, I’m telling you now.” Craig suggested, “I’ll set time for coming down for South Park. And depending where I go, you could visit me too. I’ll kick my roommate out when you come over.”


Tweek breathed his nose with sharp inhale, “Your roommate is gonna think you’re a bitch.”


Craig grinned, “My roommate can deal with it.” The teen drummed his fingers on the table,“We can make time. We just need to plan for it. We can plan for this shit.”


Tweek sighed, “You can’t, plan everything Craig.”


“Sure. But I can damn well try. Do you think I want to break-up with you just because we’re in different places?” Craig asked carefully. 


“God no, I’m beingfuckingpetty . I know that.” Tweek confessed, “I--just don't know what’s going to happen, you know, urk, how much I hate that.”


“I know. I don’t either.” The other teen divulged. “But I want to make this work. And I’m hoping you do too.”


“I do. I-nng--really do. Thanks for t-telling me about this.” The blond declared with a hot intensity. “I really appreciate it.”


“Yeah.” Craig repeated, “I’m sorry about not telling you before. I was hoping to surprise you. But, I don’t think I thought about how you would react.”

“It’s fine. You--don’t have telepathy. Uh, I hope not.” Tweek joked. 


“Whaat. But I’m Super Craig. I soooo totally have superpowers.” Said boyfriend gibbed with an exaggerated flourish of his hands. 


“Shut-up jerk.”






The banter defused the atmosphere between them, a looseness that came with the jabs not out of malice, but out of pure genuine affection. It felt familiar, like a well-comforting spark that flamed the tease shared by the two teenagers. 


“Do we need to intervene? Do guys need couple’s counselling, Token, you deal with Craig, and I’ll work with Tweek.” Clyde burst through in a hurry, his actions exaggerated. 


“We’re fine. We weren’t even fighting.” Craig said, as he shared a knowing look with his partner. 


Clyde squinted, “...Is this your form of sick foreplay?”


“I leave you guys for five minutes, and you’re already desecrating my dining room? For shame.” Token added. 


“You guys got the coke or not?”


“Yes, here you go.” Token threw the full can to his friend, “Nice catch.” He commented as Craig caught the can with two steady hands. 


“Here’s yours Tweek.” Clyde pointly gave the coffee can in a more delicate manner by physically handing it to the blond. 


“T-thanks.” Tweek said as he cupped his hands around the cooled drink. 


The teenagers slipped into another round of their gaming session, with friendly jabs and conversation thrown at each other.


It was after their fourth instance when one of them asked a question that broke the momentum. 


Tweek perked up from his screen, “What time is it?”


Clyde checked on his phone before he swore, “Oh crap. It’s almost dinner-time. I’m gonna need to get home.”


Token replied with a casual wave, “I’ll drop you guys off. Looks like it’s lightly snowing and still freezing outside. Come on let’s pack up.”


“You’re a blessing Token.” Clyde cooed as he chucked his things into his bag, and began to disassemble the set-up they had settled hours before with the grace of a bull in a China shop. 


“Yes, yes. I’m a great friend. Now you guys want a ride or not?” Token smiled as he swept away the rubbish by throwing remnants onto the empty vegetable plate.


“Oh yeah. Let me get my shit.” Craig supplied as he tucked his equipment away. 


Token clicked his fingers as he made a sudden noise of surprise. “Wait, whoops. I need to grab something before we go. I found an old electronic keyboard a few days ago, and don’t think it works anymore. Thought I might just throw it away.”


Craig perked up visibly, and tentatively dropped a reaction, “How badly damaged is it?”


Token explained with thoughtfulness in his carefully crafted words, “Not much. It just doesn’t turn on and off, and I can’t be bothered to fix it.”


“Do you mind if I take a look at it?” Craig asked. 


Token shrugged and smiled without judgement,“Sure. In fact, you can keep it if you fix it. I’ve got no use for it.”


Craig curtly nodded, and added, “Cool. Thanks.”


“You--think you can fix it?” Tweek inquired with masked interest in the tilt of his head.


“I can try. I’ve been itching to practice on fixing things.” Craig expounded as he flexed his fingers.


“Oh that’s new.” Tweek said, and tucked the information into his brain. 


Token arrived back with a large rectangular block and set it down on the ground. The teen moved towards the entrance and he grabbed something shiny from a small bowl on a table and jiggled the held objects, “Alright I’ve got it, mind helping me putting it in the trunk?”


Craig jumped forward and offered his services,“Yeah, I’ve got it.”


Clyde creaked in with a boisterous proclamation, one arm hugged around the blond’s shoulders as the cheery teen looked level-set at the other teenager, “Man, we might be study-buddies in college. That’s gonna be so dope.”


“D-definitely. At least we--won’t be alone in South Park.” Tweek admitted, as the gang got themselves comfortable in Token’s car. Tweek spied how Token and Craig carried the electronic instrument into the trunk and slammed down in a heavy clunk. Tweek thought his stacked thoughts were just as weighted from today’s revelation, and his throat felt laden like he had copious amounts of butter lathered over his tongue and teeth that drained down his esophagus (not a delicious experience because it was too much, and it made him feel all greasy and slippery, and it blocked his mouth and nose in a rich fatty mess). 


Token mentioned above the whitenoise that sizzled inside Tweek’s ear-canals, “Alright, so I’m gonna drop off Tweek first, then Clyde, and finally Craig. Is that cool for everyone?”

“Ahuh.” Clyde agreed with flourished headbob. 


“That’s fine.” Craig supplied as he looked through the car window from the passenger-seat. 


“Mmn.” Tweek said hastily when he realized he was expected to respond, just as he darted his eyes everywhere but the back of the seat in-front of him. The ride was smooth but not-quiet, as Clyde and Token made conversation (read: comedic banter) and Craig injected in intervals with scripted lines of one-liners that spewed effortless from his boyfriend’s mouth. It went quicker than it should have, and yet not fast-enough, and as he spied the familiar but not-as-warm shelter, Tweek clutched his bag with a nervous tension and stared outwardly to his oncoming departure.  


Craig looked back, and conveyed with underlying affection, “Take care babe. I’ll send you my English notes tonight.” 


“See ya Tweek.” Token maintained as he lazily pulled to a stop.


“Byeee, see you tomorrow dude.” Clyde waved with a puppy-like energy.


“B-bye guys.” Tweek uttered as he stepped out of the car and gave a shaky wave back. He breathed in the icy air as it rippled through his lungs and the urge to cough and gag on air made his head spin as he stumbled through the doorway, all the way until he planted himself in the quiet structure of his house and slid down onto the floor and thought of nothing.


He made himself get up after what felt like an half-an-hour, his legs pressed against the floor in monotonous thwomps, slowly up the stairs, gently through his bedroom door and he sat his belongings down and flopped carelessly onto his neatly-made bed. He blinked rapidly as he stared upwards to his ceiling, a blandish muted singular color that had smeared itself to the back of his eyelids in the ominous dead hours of the morning where sleep had eluded him many times like a slippery eel that wiggled away from the finger grip of doom from an Iron Chef. He stared and stared, the outside world blocked as he drowned in the silence of the empty household.


Hours later, he presumed, did his parents arrive back for dinner. It was a short affair, more so since he spent more time to rearrange the contents of his plate then his mouth being opened. The trudge back to his bedroom felt methodical and robotic, and it was only until he had sat at his desk for a solid hour without anything much to recall did he scamper back into society.


His checked his phone. There were two texts directed to him. One with an attachment and the other, a paragraph of text. He looked at the latter first.


[Wendy the Wise]: Hey Tweek! I’m just wondering if you took personal commissions for your bakery goods? The Prom committee definitely were thankful for your part in raising enough money for Junior Prom, and we (mostly I) would love to see you cater for part of the night if possible? We can agree on a set-price for the catering, and also add in some free tickets for your friends if that helps even the effort. The committee were also be willing to chip in time to help baking and transportation, so leave up the logistics if you’re worried about organizing that aspect. If it’s too much, you can totally decline, no pressure! 


He thumbed at the screen for a few moments as he pondered on the request. He felt flattered, even more so that Wendy had given him an out if he was uncomfortable with the task. He read the second text.


[Craig <3]: Here’s the notes from today’s class. Not too much. Sorry if you can’t read my shitty writing, let me know if you need me to decipher anything. Also, you okay? You were kinda quiet this afternoon. Did you want to call later?  [see 1 photo attached] 


His first thought was ‘should I help catering for Junior Prom?’ to pose to Craig, because Tweek was sure that his boyfriend would draw down the pros and cons of collaborating with a team of micromanaging teenagers. His second was, why did he have to ask if it was in the realms of his skill-level. He was sure there had to be a reason for the lingering doubt that layered itself over his deconstruction of the request, whether it was worthwhile, would he be even any good, oh what if he completely fucked it up, and no one would ever let him forget because it was Junior Prom and High School, two things that seemed to go together like whipping cream and sugar, or like marshmallows and graham crackers or... 


‘Tangent’ his brain supplied (un)helpfuly. Focus.


Yes, he thought. Yes then.  


[Tweek]: I’m okay with helping out catering. Does that mean I’m gonna be at the meetings then???


[Wendy the Wise]: Omg, thanks so much Tweek! Only specific ones where we talk about food. You’re not expected to come beyond that. I’ll let you know when I’ll need you there. But again, I really appreciate it! You’re a live-saver.


He shut his phone, and closed his eyes in thought. He just sporadically decided on a commitment. Without input from anyone, not from his parents, not from his friends, not even from Craig who he often looked for guidance. 


There was a gleeful taste that he rolled around in his mouth, and he savored it. It was airless and invisible and he felt giddy. 


Yes, he could do this.


He sent a message back to his boyfriend, simple and direct.


[Tweek]: I’m alright today...haven’t been sleeping much. Thanks for the notes, I’ll make sure to pay attention next time. No need to call, gonna try and sleep early tonight. See you tomorrow 


The reply was relaxed, and thoughtful.


[Craig <3]: Okay. You can always ask me for notes. No issue. Sleep well tonight, sweet dreams. Don’t let the bed-gnomes bite


Tweek bent down to tie his shoelaces, afterall the lace from his shoes could be the main culprit to an accidental death from falling down the stairs, or maybe if he walked across a road and tripped, and if a car couldn’t see him it would run him over and smear his guts across the concrete like the last remnants of toothpaste being squeezed out by a desperate poor student who had a dollar to their name and an awareness that simple hygiene would be less expensive than medical bills for rotten teeth.


Yeah, so shoelaces. He muttered to himself on the multiple ways they could be important. Maybe the shoelace could be used to make a sling, or maybe a way to strangle someone, or! Even use it to create fire, one of man’s greatest discoveries.


His muttering became more muted when he suddenly realized, there was an argument that started to occur just around the corner. He focused on the voices; one feminine one, and another masculine, both familiar. He murmured to himself on the identity of the two voices, his mind running over the tilts of the conversations as he let the recognition placate him. 


Wendy and Stan.  


“I really think you can do better.” 


A masculine voice spoke. Stan said something, and Tweek felt like he was an intruder in the conversation. 


“Where is this coming from?”


Wendy’s voice came in an inflexion not really of anger, but more out of exasperation. 


“Seriously Wendy? Come on, I know you have higher standards. Eric really isn’t worth the time…” 


He felt like he was a voyeur to a car wreck, all bloody and hard to ignore.


He heard how there was a laugh, all feminine, but not like a witch’s croak, no it was more of a quick huff.


“Hey, what’s so funny? I’m serious Wendy. You can do so much better.”


“Stanley. You’re not my keeper. You no longer have a say in who or who I shouldn’t talk to. Actually, you never had that option at all, because that’s really shitty behavior and I know you’re better than that. You’re still a bit of an ass for cheating on me.”


“What? I never cheated on you - we had our breaks and both of us understood it didn’t count.”


He nibbled on his lips as an uncomfortable silence stretched out. Should he be here? Was it his awful luck for his life to be inadvertently be filled with drama?


“I wasn’t referring to our breaks Stanley. I was talking about the Kyle situation.”


Stan’s choked noise in response actually made Tweek feel a little bad. The blond felt like a viewer of a shitty soap-opera, and he didn’t even ask for it!


“I can’t ever unfuck myself from that can I? Look, I don’t expect us to get back together, but can’t we just still stay friends at least. You’re a really cool person, and I know that you don’t hate my guts that much since you’re willing to talk to me for so long without leaving…”


Wendy’s gentle voice carried through as she comforted her conversation partner.


“I get it. I do. I don’t hate you, and my resentment for being dumped, hey, don’t think that wasn’t a straight-up deal breaker because it was, has very much disappeared. But it doesn’t mean that things can go back to what they once were. I want you to be happy Stanley, I really, really do. But it’s something you need to see and get without me holding you back with guilt. I want to let you be free. I want you to let go.”


Tweek felt the earnestness in her words, all raw in its honestly and request. Not like Wendy’s usual quick-wit, or waggled tongue with mirth and tease. It was unbridled with her sorrow, her obvious reflection of what she thought of her ex-boyfriend that it struck Tweek just how brave she was for exposing such vulnerability.


“What am I letting go? Years of us being beside each other and learning how to deal with everything? You were there for me for so many years…”


Stan’s response was just as emotional, as he pleaded, and begged for mercy from this rejection.


“I was. I won’t deny that. But he’s been there longer, and I don’t think that’s ever going to change. I need you to see that.”


There was a dry cough, like a strangled noise escaped from one of the parties.


“I do. But it came too late and I already fucked this with you didn’t I?”


“But that’s life. Do what you think is right Stanley.”


The softened blow made Tweek think of whipped sugar and egg whites, the soft-peaks of the blended combination, so fluffy but so deceptive on the amount of air, of genuine weight. Did she believe in that? Honestly? Was he not being a horribly judgemental in a relationship crisis not his own?


“Right. Thanks I guess. Even though I kinda blew up on you for nothing. I guess I’ll see you around then? Like a stranger?”


Stan’s weak reply made Tweek feel antsy, like he needed to shake off all this tension that rattled his bones.


“We’re at least awkward acquaintances. Considering the amount of embarrassing stuff I know about you.”


Wendy’s sly retort sucked the crackle of tension between them.


“Hah. True. See you around then.”


Stan said, and there was a few seconds between the next response. It was soft, and Tweek had to concentrate carefully to even decipher what was whispered. 


“Bye Stanley.”


That was certainly strange, not what he expected to end considering the last time there was the infamous cafeteria blow-up scene last year that occured which had been the talk of the town, which was really intense and-


-wait, why was Wendy looking at him like that?


Hold on. Why was he on the ground? He groaned, and patted at his knelt knees, his gaze caught his untied shoes as he maneuvered around to check if he had any injuries. The culprit he realized. Of course his luck was this shit . A hand was thrust into his vision, as the teenage girl offered a gloved hand.  


“Hey. I guess you heard that.” Wendy said as she pulled the blond up. 


“A little. Uh--maybe more than a little. I, ack, didn’t mean to eavesdrop.” Tweek admitted as he found himself directly looking at the black-haired girl.


“It’s okay. Stanley and I weren’t exactly subtle.” She brushed off the apology with a casual shrug. “You shouldn’t feel bad. I hope you’re not thinking you’re in the wrong considering we were airing our dirty laundry in plain sight.”


“It sounded a little terrifying. I hope you guys aren’t going to fight again.” Tweek rambled on, “Not like it would be your fault if you did, nng - because I’m not shaming you for having a public fight, cause that w-would make me a hypocrite.”


She lightly laughed, any criticism deflected by a wave of her hands, “It’s okay Tweek. I think you and I know how terrible other teenagers can be in South Park.”

“Yeah. You get it.” Tweek confessed, feeling increasingly comfortable with Wendy’s presence.


Wendy said softly, “I’ve got too much experience being the leader of drama.” 


He bit the soft skin of his mouth’s interior, “It’s strange.” He admitted. 


“What is?” She asked curiously. 


He cleared his throat, “I don’t know. Usually--people don’t understand me. Like, people think, argh, I’m too paranoid and a goddamn loonie. Sometimes I think I’m acompletemess. Actually, no--all of the time.”


“You’re not a mess Tweek.” Wendy replied with seriousness, “Maybe people have said it enough that you believe in it, but I don’t think so.” She continued, just as confident, “Maybe you think you’re not normal, but you know what?” She smiled, a bright smile that made Tweek feel all warm and tingly. “Normal is overrated.”


“Really?” He prodded at a healing hickey left on his neck as he looked away in embarrassment, “What makes--you think that?”


“Well,” Wendy began to explain with an inhaled breath, “I think you’re really selfless. You did all of that baking for the fundraising even though you weren’t compensated for it.”


“I mean--it was great advertising for Tweak’s Bros Coffeehouse-”


“You can say that to everyone else. But, you know, you can admit it was stressful. I feel bad for not helping out more.” She added. 


“It’s okay. I-uh, had my friends help out.” Tweek toed at an empty spot with a scuffled dig at the cold ground. 


“I still feel bad for asking for your help for catering.” Wendy disclosed her worries, “I know I’m asking for more effort than the fundraising event.”


“No you’re not. You’re--paying me. So d-don’t feel so bad.” Tweek insisted. 


“Anyway, let me know if you ever need me to chip in with the food. It makes me feel bad I’m leaving it to you.” She maintained the offer with a level look towards the teenage boy. 


“Thanks for the offer.” Tweek mentioned, thinking about the texts he shared with the girls recently, “Are you excited for Prom?” He asserted his question with a follow-up comment, “I mean, I’m assuming--ack, since you’re the head of the Prom committee that you want it, to um be perfect…”

“Hmm. Don’t know. Am I?” Wendy spieled with an exaggerated flip of her hair, “I probably shouldn’t be asking you that, I’m obviously more invested in seeing things go to plan, but.” She remarked, with a pause in her next words, “If you mean, me, as society dictates a girl should feel about the importance of Prom?” 


“Something like that…?” Tweek suggested. 


“Well, honestly, I’m a bit torn.” She stated, “Obviously, the social-norms on the traditions of Prom, with how rigid they tend to be can be argued against, since they fall under very strict expectations of how much emotional and physical labor,” Wendy repeated her words for emphasis, “Oh yes, I do mean physical too considering how much planning has to go around dress, make-up, hair and general physique in appearance is invested in both financial and emotional value is often overlooked or accepted for the common good.


“Still, considering it’s conditioned in our popular culture and our education system for how Prom is highly valued, it’s hard to escape the confines of these expectations, even with knowing them.” She finished with a sigh. 


“Is that what--you really feel?” Tweek asked. 


“Yes. A little. I’m trying to avoid being pigeon-holed in the category of titling myself a better person for criticising the tradition of Prom as holding more weight than compared to a girl who might actually look forward to it,” Wendy added with a tap on her lips,  “But, it’s true enough that I think the idea of it could be fun.”


“That seems a little confusing, but--it seems you’ve, nngh, thought about it a lot.” Tweek claimed. 


“Mmm. I decided to join the committee for more selfish reasons than I would like to admit. Of course I want our Junior Prom to be successful, I do. But I would also rather it push the boundaries of what Prom might normally be like.


“Does that make sense? If it still makes me sound pretentious, I can totally understand if you think that.” She looked at the other person with an open-expression. 


“No, I think it’s really--touching you, um,  feel so strongly about it.” Tweek said. “Prom, probably doesn’t mean the samething to me since--I’m a guy.”


“A boy who has a boyfriend, really, you’re already a step-ahead than everyone considering the next few months will have Promposals happening every week if the schedule allows for it.” She replied back with a joking tone.


“Every week!?” He said incredulously. 


“Oh yes, you can probably bet on it. Actually, there might be a pool going on with the girls for who gets the most unique Promposal organised in preparation.” She murmured. 


“That sounds terrifying! Holy shit--Clyde and Token were right.” 


“Speaking of which, Nichole is a little curious what her boyfriend might be up to. Any hints I can pass to her?” The question was coy and he felt bad, but he was not going to say anything to ruin Token’s current (non-existent) plans. 


“Nuh! A-absoutely not. I won’t break the bro-code!” He yelled. 


“Fine, fine. I was joking anyway. If I really wanted the sauce, I would ask about what Clyde was up to anyway.” She remarked. 


“Uh--he’s, um, about-”


“I know he has a massive thing for Bebe. Tweek, you don’t need to feel like you have to cover for him. Guy’s not exactly subtle.”




“It’s kinda cute you know. Puppy-love is one of the sweetest. It’s all innocent and pure.”


The expression on her face became sombre, and made her aged more than he thought she should look like. 


“You seem--kinda sad Wendy.” He pointed out. 


“Do I? Sorry, I admit it brought up some past memories that I rather wish weren’t tainted by the passing of time.”


“Does, ack, remembering hurt?”


“Does it?” She said wistfully, “A little, it’s like sometimes my throat closes up, and I forget to breathe for a second because I’m trying to muddle through the questions of ‘ what changed ’ and ‘ how’ ?” She declared, “Probably a moot thing to ask because I can’t change the past, nor can I change someone’s sexuality.”




“Stanley.” She began with a shaky breath, “Is a complex person, really. I know we had our differences at times, and maybe breaking-up and getting-together so many times wasn’t the healthiest, but he was the best boyfriend I had.”




“Well, we had breaks sometimes that lasted a few months, and I.” She mentioned, “May have had a rebound or too.” Her wink made him laugh, “I know, scandalous.” 


“Still, Stanley always had his heart sewn on his sleeve, and sometimes that was great. Sometimes, it really brought us together because we had all this passion between us for good causes you know. He helped organise that event for the cruelty-free cosmetics range a few years back almost single-handley. Even if he wasn’t interested in using any of the products, he still cared enough for me that he contributed.”


Tweek thought about the relevelation, “I didn’t realize that.”


“Most people didn’t. I ended up as spokesperson so you couldn’t be blamed if you thought I was the driving force behind it. But now you know. There’s more to him than high-school jock.”


“I guess. I--ngh--haven’t had much time with him anyway. He’s, uh, usually more likely to talk to Craig.”


“Well, I can see how the two of them might butt heads.” She rolled the idea in her head and mentioned,“They seem a little more civil to each other now.”


“Yeah, what’s up--with that?”


“Not sure exactly. Could be to do with Kyle.”


The mention of the fiery red-head made Tweek shudder involuntarily as the previous memory of Kyle’s deathly glare imprinted itself into the blond’s skull.  


“Haha...right Kyle…” He said weakly. 


Wendy’s perceptive glance pierced through, “You don’t seem so excited Tweek.”


“Ack--well remember the time he told me to call off Craig like he was a dog...I’m still terrified he’s gonna...” He ranted a little with a flourish of his arms as he mimicked the action Kyle had left with a swipe of his finger across the neck. 


“Oh right, yeah. I remember that. Kyle probably had a bitch-fest because he was trying to deal with his new-found realization.” She primly stated. 


“His, uh new-found…?”


Wendy rolled her eyes, and explained, “Listen, I can read it when someone figures out they aren’t totally straight. I had a walking manual filled with experiences with not only Stanley but some other guys I dated. There’s sometimes an attitude change, either a positive and accepting one, or an initially rash and defensive one.”


“You--um, seem pretty confident.” Tweek observed the stance in the speech the girl orated with a nervous gaze.


“Ah, I guess I do. Probably not the best to believe in the absolute, but I’m basing it off personal experience...” She acknowledged with a dip of her head. 


He squawked, his attention piqued, “Wait-you..!”


“Is it that shocking Tweek?” She smiled with mirth, all innocuous and light.  


He mumbled a feeble response, “I can’t tell if it’s a trick question, please, ugh, don’t expect me to answer that…”


“Sorry. Couldn’t resist.” She continually jested, “So, basing off Kyle’s interactions, it’s going to be an eventful time with him and I in the same committee.”


“ don’t seem so worried…”


“Oh not at all. This is almost going to be entertaining. I’ve done my share of mourning and questioning. I’m at peace.” Wendy shook her hair, her black locks had a wavy sheen as the afternoon light bounced off, and she grinned impishly “Well mostly, if I take a stick and poke at the sleeping bear, at least it’ll be fun while it lasted.”


“You’re, um, too brave for d-dealing with Kyle.”


“Well I am at an advantage. I already know how it’s going to end.”


“You do?” Tweek posed the question with dumbfoundment. 


The expression on the girl’s face was nothing short of devilish, “Stanley is gonna get a face-full of Kyle at the end.”


Unnerved by the sheer glowing confidence (and the strange expression on his conversation partner) he backed a little from the presence of Wendy’s previous declaration, “...w-why are you smiling you much…?”


“No reason. You start to pick up common traits after dating the same guy for almost six years.”


That reminded him of something that had been mentioned off-handley, “God, don’t r-remind me. Apparently--nnh, Clyde said that ‘ Craig and I were on the same wavelength .’ We’re not, umf, that bad...”


She stared at him, with bemusement lined on the furrows of her eyebrows, “Do you want me to answer that statement honestly?”

He exclaimed, “No! It was a rhetorical--ack, question…”


“It’s not a bad thing to be intune with your partner. I’m sure it helps out more in your downtime…” She said with the same energy of a coy wink imbedded in her words. 


He squinted, and admonished, “I don’t think I, nihh, like your insinuation Wendy.” 


“Fine. I’ll share first to be even. Stanley generally knew my quirks enough that things worked smoothly when we wanted to do anything. It was a system that worked, we didn’t have to use our words, more than our actions.” 




“I haven’t told many people, but I think you deserve to know considering the amount of stuff we wanted to know about your active sex life.” She pondered on her next response with a sudden heavy-tone, the words dripped out like salted caramel, all sickly sweet and goopy from her dainty mouth, “Stanley was a lot of my firsts. We fumbled, messed up and learnt from our mistakes. Not just from sex, but also from relationships.” 


“It was tough, because we only knew other for a lot of the early years. And I think we felt that we were stunted a lot since we drew our experiences from one person. But that doesn’t mean everyone will be like us. I don’t think you need to be worried about Craig and yourself being in the same situation.”


He fumbled with his reply, taken aback again from the dump of information overload as his perception of not just Stan but also Wendy shifted, “Huh! I mean, I guess I’ve always thought that, uh, was it too strange that weonly dated each other for--ahh, so long...”


The sorrowful voice returned, as Wendy turned away from direct eye-contact, her tone slightly muted as it changed direction to be spoken at the open-air, rather than at Tweek’s face. Each sentence seemed to hold a delicate piece of her feelings, all cracked up and thrown down unceremoniously like an exquisite piece of fine-china that broke all over the ground in a shower of white shards. 


“You might try to ignore certain feelings that begin to come up. Feelings you didn’t think existed, but suddenly have been dumped on you, and you can’t help the fact that you might be a little in love with your best friend. I think we both tried to pretend it didn’t exist, know how that worked out.”


He inhaled carefully, as the meaning of her words sent shivers across his face and he dug his blunt nails into the cold skin of his hands, scaping fine white lines in a vertical direction across the pale skin, all ephemeral in their existence as they transitioned onto his skin into a straight line of reddy-pink, “That’s awful.” 


“Emotional cheating probably doesn’t the same rap as physical. Well, considering it’s much harder to pinpoint an exact definition since it’s so fluid and subjective to the individual.” She finished with a stifled noise, like a sniff that never made it out properly, “I think it was just a matter of time.”


“I’m sorry--I don’t know why I’m saying it. Aplogizes seem so-so stupid since it’s already happened, and you seem--ngh, at peace with it, but I feel like saying it. So I’m sorry.” He grappled with the words, all tongue-twisted as he tired to pick them and stretch them out in sincerity and honesty but found he could not as they turned into mush, too liquid for him to form any proper shapes so he blurted out what he hoped was something comforting. 


“Thanks Tweek. You’re really precious you know.” She turned back, her eyes tinged with a misty glaze that she wiped away in a swipe, “Too bad you’re super gay.” She peeked a smile, a little shaky but nevertheless proud in its existence, “I would have thought you could be a fantastic boyfriend.”


“Wendy. Was that--a compliment? I can’t-argh, tell, uh, with you.” He returned the same tease with his own response.

Wendy returned her retaliation in laughter, all free and effervescent as it flitted across the wind like a leaf picked with the careful finger of the breeze, and the girl stood there just a little more radiant in her smile even as she closed her eyes, “Take it as it is Tweek. Just letting you know the girls are going to be behind you, supporting and cheering you and Craig on.” 


Tweek admired the way that the words washed over him, it tasted like compassion and ardor, all heavenly and smoky as it filled his lungs, and he breathed out just as he felt like he glowed with the setting sun, “You do know how to make a guy feel conflicted.”



Tweek picked at the items in his closet, miscellaneous things that fell out as items shifted from being pushed and prodded at, some objects he hadn’t seen for years, others for a few weeks. He stacked some of them, on top-of-each other like a flimsy pancake in one area, while another space was where he collected small trinkets to be stuffed into a box, where he would forget and open up years later during another cleaning process. 


He poked at a familiar backpack, attention gained as he unzipped it, and pummeled a hand in and felt around the objects in the bag. 




That was a vibrator. 


The vibrator. 


He pulled it out, and couldn’t help but snort at this strange situation where one of his hands were wrapped around the handle of the black sex-toy, while the other pinched around a plastic knife he used when he role-played as a barbarian in the Stick of Truth. He placed the harmless knife into an open box and closed it, as he observed the grooves that shaped the irregular form of the toy.


It was, of all accounts, intimidating the first-time he had laid his eyes on it at the store, terrifying when they had carried it home and smuggled it into his bedroom, and mostly ignored until they began their experimenting. 


The buttplug that Craig had slipped in a few times wasn’t as scary in its existence, a little strange in its weight the first-time it had been pushed in and left in to stretch him out. Sometimes, if he really wanted to push himself, he would flex his anal muscles and feel the way the toy pushed into him. That felt more, well, a little more alluring and the stimulation made him shudder as he thought about the past debauchery he had gotten up with Craig. 


He thumbed at the device with a tender touch, and followed the wave of the design all the way  to the bulbous head, all bulged out and swollen.


He licked his lips, a little flared up from the blinking fantasies that scathed his mind as he rubbed his fingers across the smooth texture of the vibrator. 


This was supposed to be plunged into someone, nudged against the prostate for maximum pleasure as it plugged up the person who had driven it up, all to allow them to ride on the tides of an orgasm.


He sniffled, a little more surprised at his sudden arousal, the flickering tendrils of sexual stir-up made him jittery as he knelt on the carpeted floor, the toy more weighted as he mulled over his situation.


He, well. He all accounts strip down, lube himself up and slowly ease himself onto the device, and see if he could achieve the same continuous orgasms he experienced before. 


The scenario could work, his parents were away, it was the weekend, and there was no chance his friends would be asking him to go anywhere because Token and Jimmy were working on a project, and Clyde had a shift at his dad’s shoe-shop, and Craig was supposed to be babysitting Tricia - their parents were at an outing of sorts and weren’t going to be back until late, so his boyfriend was out of action.


He definitely should be using the time wisely, he thought. A second overview on the different factors sold him. 


Sure Craig wasn’t here, but it didn’t mean Tweek couldn’t explore on his own. 


He could go on his own pace - stop and go when he wanted to, tease it out so he could spread himself, and guide the device to his needs.


Yeah, so mind made-up, he jumped up, obstructed his windows, and dimmed down the room so only the light that came from the outside of his room permeated through. He shimmered off his pants, and thought of whether his socks should go, but decided to keep them on so at least he had some warmth, and pulled down his underwear. He brought the lube that had been shoved in the same backpack when he decided to begin this situation and laid it on the edge of the bed. 


A squirt of the lubricant covered his palm and he started to spread the sticky liquid all over the sex-toy, the slipperly motion made his heart thump loudly as he found himself aching for some action.


He was a hair’s breadth away from another squirt when he heard sharp and loud knocks on the front-door. He stopped, his breath quicker as his brain worked at double-time to draw him back to reality. 


There was someone at the door. He could hear the tell-tale sound of the front door being almost opened.


While he was half-naked and held a vibrator in-hand. 




He tried to wipe the lubed vibrator his bare skin in haste and pulled up his pants over his legs with much difficulty considering he was working with only hand, ridiciously sticky legs and being on a time-limit. 


“Who the fuck…!” He yelled as he made his way down the stairs. Who the ever-loving-hell would be annoying him?


He didn’t think it would be a burglar, because no robber would announce their presence, so that could be struck out. All of his friends were busy, and there hadn’t been any messages on his phone in the glance he had given as he threw on some clothes to look somewhat suitable when he greeted whoever was supposed to be behind the door-


“-Hey babe.”


“You!” Tweek fumed, as he cradled the vibrator behind his back and stuck his face out to see the mysterious - well not so mysterious in the end - person who had interrupted his private time.  


“Me.” Craig intoned a little lost from the hostility. 


“Why. Are--you here, I thought you were--babysitting?” 


“There’s a reason behind that.” He paused, looking a little furtively at the rather rancid glare that the blond had thrown at him, “Can I come in, or...?”


Tweek twitched, all sharp and short as he pressed the device (why on honest God had he clutched on it all the way down) even deeper into his back - which, by all accounts, gross . He would look odd leaving his boyfriend outside in the cold for an extended amount of time, and even Craig had started to look a little more than antsy at being left outside for an unusually long time.


“Argh. Fine.” Tweek pulled the door open and allowed the other teenager to slip through, as he shut the door with a nervous check for any curious passers by.


“Who pissed in your cornflakes?” Craig nasally asked, as the teenager cradled the spare key in one-hand. 


“No one dude.” Tweek huffed out, still with his one-hand held against his back. “You--urk, caught me at a weird time.”


“What? Did I interrupt your mediation?” The question was thrown carelessly, not out of malicious intent but rather of intrigue. 


“...Uh. N-ye-noh.” The blond stammered out. 


“What.” Craig said, even more confused by his boyfriend’s actions.


The burning shame - hang on, why should he be embarrassed, he had done weirder shit before - had crawled from the tips of fingers still gripped tightly against the vibrator, followed the stream of his bent arm, up all across his tense shoulder-blades, covered his neck in a layer of the phantom warmth, ran along the jawline of his chin, and finally bloomed across his cheeks in reddened splotches. 


“Hey, what’s wrong? Is it something I can help with?” Craig muttered as he moved closer to his flustered boyfriend. 


“--Nhhh. Kinda,” Tweek chewed his bottom-lip, and swallowed the heavy tension that had built in his mouth, “I was--don’t laugh, but, I was, um, going to do some buttstuff withthevibrator we bought?”


Craig took in the information with a remarkably potent answer of a soft, “ Huh .”


“ Here it is.” Tweek relaxed his arm and brought the device forward, into vision and tried to not visibly wince at the blatant show of the glossy texture that had settled itself on the material. 


Craig looked at the device, with the same neutral expression, and chucked a thumb in the air - likely representing something upstairs, and really why hadn’t he said a semblance of a sentence yet...


“I have no complaints. Let’s go.” 


Tweek stalled, still unsure what exactly had just transpired. “’re not angry? Or, um, I don’t know, weirded out or--anything?”


“What. Like I’ll pass the chance to see your O-face.” Craig assured with smooth confidence that Tweek was sure he was already half-baked from the amount of heat that emanated from his face.


“...I--regret letting you in.” He jabbed as he moved past his boyfriend and up the stairs, two at a time in his flushed state. 


“Sorry babe, but it’s true.” Craig said without an inch of sorry in any of the words as he caught up in long strides,”You’ll need to work harder if you wanted to freak me out.”


“You’re really--nnh, gonna regret saying that.” Tweek answered back, his stare steely. 


“So. You want to do freaky shit?” Craig drawled on as he looked at the darkened bedroom. “Is this what you were setting up for?”


“Argh. Maybe.” Tweek wanted to throw his arms up (however he still held on the vibrator so that was a bad idea), so instead settled on switching the light on so he wouldn’t trip over the mess he had made when he was throwing crap around. “Just--sit down or something…”


“Okay. You’re the boss.” The taller teenager said as he sat down, his limbs flopped on the bedding in a casual fashion. 


Tweek harped, “You’re giving me a lot more credit. I’m making shit up as I go along.”


The lounged teen gave a short sigh, and murmured, “Yeah so? Spontaneity is what I like about you.”


The blond clasped his hands together, the pressure squeezed between his palms against the vibrator as he stammered, “A-ahuh, right, thanks.”


“So, dark room for meditation?” Craig ventured into his tandem spurred from the conversation at the front-door. 


“It works--I like it. I wanted to try it out with this,” Tweek admitted, “But um--add something extra.”


“Cool. I don’t mind extra stuff.” 


“You--ack, would be fine with that? I’ll be pretty silent and, uh, won’t be much entertainment--hah.”


“That’s fine. I’ve brought my own.” Craig said and pulled out something from his jacket-pocket. It was a cube, decorated with tiny squares in multi-colored patterns with thick black lines that separated each block into neat cells. 


“Why do you have a rubix cube? Hang on--you didn’t even text me to tell me you were coming over. Whatthehell? ” Tweek all but spluttered at the reveal. 


Craig shrugged, his hands round the cube with a gentle grip at its sides, “There’s a reason for that. It’s because Tricia kicked me out. This was the only thing I could grab before I left.”


“Your baby sister kicked you out of the house...” Tweek repeated, almost dumbfounded from the absurdness of the excuse. 


“It sounds bad. She.” Craig paused, as he steadied himself in thought, “Had friends over and didn’t want me snooping around so she shooed me out.”


“Didn’t your parents ask you to watch over her?”


“Yeah. They did.” Craig stated nonchalantly. 


“And..if something went wrong, and you--uck, weren’t home, aren’t they goingtobe pissed?”



“Fantastic decision Craig! If Tricia gets into an accident--because I swear you--ngh, have so many death-traps at your house..”


“Thanks for your assurance.”


“...and you get--ahh, grounded, then I won’t be able to see you, ack, unless it’s at school, and Christmas is coming up, so it’s going to superstupid if you couldn’t go anywhere-”


“Tricia isn’t a troublemaker. She’ll be fine. She’s a good kid. And besides, her friends are all tame as hell. I doubt they’ll do anything to burn the house down.”


Tweek snorted at the blandness of his boyfriend’s statement, “Yeah, ahuh. Like how--you nearly did, because I’m pretty--sure your parents don’t trust you to cook anything even now.”


“I set off the fire alarm. Never burnt the actual house. I was twelve.”


“You burnt pancakes Craig! Seriously--I still can’t believe you did it, even if its been years later.”


“I baked fine at Token’s. You were there.”


“Baking and cooking pancakes--are different!” Tweek paused in his tirade, his taunts a little more mocking, “I’m pretty sure even Tricia isbetterat cooking than you.”

“That’s low dude.” Craig mimicked a winched expression and mentioned, “She might have blackmailed me.” 


“Your sister has--uh, blackmail on you?”


“She’s a sneaky little shit like that. Sometimes she’ll use it to swap chores. Even though I can’t cook for shit. But whatever, I’m good at cleaning so it’s even.” 


“Dividing the chores--how pragmatic.” The blond mused, “Do you have, er, it listed it out already?”


“Of course. I got this shit locked-down.” The chullo-wearing teen voiced a stray thought all of a sudden, “Hey, I just remembered. Mom apparently won some raffle at her workplace and got this giant-ass hamper, and it’s going to take more than four people to finish it. So, she wanted to ask if your parents were going to be here for Christmas day. If you wanted to have dinner at my place. If your parents were cool with it.”


“Oh. Uh--I might have to ask, but um, I’m pretty sure they’re leaving the morning after Christmas so maybe. Does your mom really want us over?”

“Are you kidding? She always asks about you, and how you’re doing. Also I think she wants you to bake something. She’s been raving about your stuff from the fundraiser. She even wants you to be her personal pastry chef.” 


“Gahh--what the hell? Your mom has too high-hopes in me…”


Craig uttered with knowing-confidence, “I don’t think so. Your baking skills are fucking incredible.”


The compliment smacked the blond with an unforeseen jolt of energy, and the praise made him all gooey and sticky inside, like golden syrup poured into a batch of wet ingredients, all planned to be made into a cake, “Hnn. Okay--if say so. I’ll--ngh, go and ask my parents.”


“So about this.” Craig remarked at the dynamic that sizzled in the room, “Do you want me to do anything in particular?”


Tweek flubbed at the sudden authority he had gathered, a term he usually did not experience, a strange power had been thrusted to him which made him a little light-hearted in his possession. “I--uh, um,” He said with hesitation, the vowels stuck in his throat, but nevertheless pressed through with a possibly levelled tone, “Take your pants off. Including your underwear.”


“Okay.” Craig replied. 


“You’re not, ack, going to askwhy?”


Craig uttered with curious tone, “Should I be? Besides, you said you wanted to weird me out. So surprise me.”


Tweek gulped nervously - he was totally out of his element right now - ah shit, but he carried on because this was his life now, “Right. Yeah. So. Uh, after you take your stuff off I want you to wait a bit. D-don’t touch yourself.”


“Wasn’t planning to.” Craig announced all calmly. Said boy fiddled with the zip of his pants, and shimmied them down, the familiar sight of the muscular legs, the thickness of the limbs and the material that covered the crotch - all of it culminated to make Tweek titillated as he stared unabashingly at the removal of the pants, and subsequent dismissal of the blanketing underwear to reveal a flaccid penis nestled between spread thighs.    


The parched feeling in his mouth was an illusion, Tweek tried to warn himself as he attempted to jumpstart his brain into working again, and his mouth moved in tandem with his heartbeat.


“Good. Um, okay. So. Close your eyes for a bit. Don’t open them until I say so.”


“Alright. Closing them.” Craig shut his eyes, all focused on the instruction with how tight they were as his eyelids twitched with every movement made by Tweek’s actions.


The blond carried the vibrator (he still held onto it, really there was no need for it right now), and found a stray tissue he could lay the device on while he managed the necessary equipment. He shuffled around, still cautious of truck-load of things scattered across the floor and grabbed something he had taken out on impulse from the sacrilegious bag. The container of lube was also taken - the cherry flavor that had been used when he had rimmed (as his face flamed in the pleasant memory it inspired) and plopped them next to Craig’s still form.  


His hands were already slick from the previous preparation of himself, but he added a small squirt just-in-case. His fingers were wet, and slimy and he rubbed them together to create some warmth just to ease his touch as he cupped with the gentlest graze around the slack penis, one palm pressed against the length as it was lifted up. His grip was tender and light, and he swore when it nearly slipped out of his palm as it slid across his skin. He grappled with the object and sidled it pass the head, down the member and to the base. 


He felt Craig quake - a flex of his thighs as the strange object touched the phallus, its cold existence reminded both of them that this was happening. With more vigor in a renewed effort to finish what he started, Tweek thumbed his boyfriend’s balls in kneading motions, stroked the slowly engorged head and squeezed with slow and steady hands the scrotum in, through, in, through…


Tweek took a second to admire his handiwork, his decision to utilise the things he bought with his partner. It was a bewitching sight - tempered with a beauty that he never understood before, irresistible in its allure for the constriction that had been placed on Craig by him. 


He breathed in deeply, and declared as he drenched in the worship of his boyfriend’s body, “Nng--okay. You can open your eyes now.”


Craig took a few seconds to study the new addition that had been placed over his genitals. The shock was fleeting and he responded. “You. Put a cock-ring on me?”


“You don’t--seem so shocked? Still, um, notweirdedout?”

“Nah.” Craig paused as he lazily scratched his bare thigh, “Am I supposed to be?”


Tweek stammered his explanation with a flurry of hands, “No. It’s--just. Remember when you said you liked the idea of extending our sex-stuff for a longer period? Well-err. I thought about it and, I wanted to let you experience the same type of feelings I had. I-uh, I think it’s called edging. That’s what the Internet said anyway.”


“Alright. Seems straight-forward enough. What’s your plan?”


“So, I--um. I’m going to have the vibrator up inside me, nngh.”


“Nice.” Craig said, and if the taller boy could whistle, Tweek was sure it would have been one that trailed the short statement, “Did you want to keep the lights on, or what?”


“R-right. Uh--well. I originally planned it as a solo-event, so I kept the lights off, because stimulation...y’know. And I was planning--to you know be blocked out the world for a bit while I was doing this .” Tweek replied as coolly as he could muster (which wasn’t very much if was to be honest). 


“Okay.” Craig summarized with a finesse that was so like him, unperturbed by the haphazardly cobbled-together plan. 


Tweek felt like had to explain his actions, so he fumbled through his so-called plans. “So, like. I had planned for this background music--it’s like a background soundtrack, super relaxing, I was, uh, going to use this to loosen me up for the vibrator...”


“Go on.” Craig assured. 


Tweek stammered. “...And kinda just work on my prostate I guess.”


The tone was prideful, as Craig shot him a response, “I fucking told you so.”

“Yes, yes, shut-up. I ended--up really liking it. You don’ tneed to rub it in.” Tweek miffed with his grumbled retort.


Craig returned with a sly look, “You know what else you can rub?”


“...I’m guessing your dick?” Tweek sighed with a resigned shrug. 


“Yep. That’s correct.” The half-naked teen drawled as he leaned forward, all bravado irrespective of his current undressed state. 


Tweek met the tension and leaned closer, his words sultry with a sudden confidence,“What about--instead I take your dick downmy throat?”


Craig hummed and hawed for a moment, his attention hyper-focused as he discussed it like it was a business transaction. “Hmmm. I’m intrigued. Keep going.”


The blond let his tongue run all over his front teeth, from the side to the front and he took a sharp breath and spoke of sweet promises and delicious sinfulness to come, “Well, maybe--I can suck youoff, and keep the cock-ring on you if you can take it. A-and maybe, we can see, er,  if you like being e-edged out for aslongaspossible.”


The promise seemed enticing enough, and Craig leaned back, seemingly content with the proposal, a lazy posture that mirrored the rest of a sunbathed cat stretched comfortably on a baked patio, “Okay. I don’t have any complaints then.”


Tweek balked a little at the composed movement, a fire lit from underneath somewhere, his mouth on fire as a competitive streak sailed beneath his wings, “No? Well, ack, I’m going toget you to--regret that.”


Craig’s hummed voice was smooth, which sunk like scraps from a block of chocolate being chipped into a bowl, “Hmm. You seem confident all of a sudden.”


Tweek paused, his momentum shook as he dribbled the words cautiously and asked, “Do you--nnh--not like it?”


“Oh. No. I’m down for it.” Craig reassured with the same-tone that Tweek had began to trust so impeccably with the utmost confidence. 


“R-right.” The blond stated nonchalantly as he began to set-up the scene, if he was going to kneel, he needed to be comfortable. A bed cover that needed to be washed soon would be useful enough for his legs, so he grabbed that and picked up his noise-cancelling headphones and the lubricant. 


He threw the material on the ground, tapped the edge of the bed and the way that Craig scooted forward seemed to really boost his inward confidence. He plugged in the headphones to his phone and opened up playlist he knew would help him get into the zone. “Wait, before we start, should we have a signal for if something happens?” Craig mumurred.


“Signal?” Tweek repeated.


“Like in-case your parents come in and you can’t hear. So I need to let you know when to stop.” Craig explained plainly and twirled a finger through the coils of the headphones.


“Mnn--well how about you pinch...the bridge of my nose twice, and I’ll--uhhm pinch you knees twice for stop?” Tweek spoke through the plan, and demonstrated with his hands for the physical sign. 


As his hands were still wet with the lubricant, Tweek began to open himself up, his index and middle finger spread as he slowly scissored himself. He avoided the very much starving glaze from above, and instead his head turned to rest on his shoulder as both his hands became preoccupied with making himself comfortable for the session to come.  


‘This seems like enough’, after what seemed to be an eternity passed, did Tweek finally rest the sex-toy undearneath his bottom orifice. It was a steady process, highlighted by how it took a little experimentation for him to find the all-important prostate, and from the quick peek the blond took at his very interested boyfriend, Craig seemed like half in-thought to offer a helping-hand. With some final adjustments, Tweek finally found himself just right on the tiny nerve that held his bundle of nerves and anticipation, and turned the device on at a low setting. He rocked back, once, just to see the effect, and man. Did it bring back some memories. “Okay. I--got this ready. You good to go?”


“Works for me.” Craig warmly agreed as he cradled his boyfriend’s cheek. “Hey about the whole light business…”


“ about that.” Tweek bit his lips and swirled his tongue around his mouth before he spoke. “There might be some fabric I could use, and like…”


“No need for that.” Craig interrupted casually, “Just use my hat. I like how you look with it.”


‘Oh’ , Tweek thought as a flutter rippled through his spoken words.” Y-yeah, that’s cool with me.”


With deft fingers, the black-haired teen removed his head accessory and presented it tenderly upon the kneeled boy, with the rim of the hat comfortably tucked over the eyes and fastened underneath the chin. Tweek’s  world became the darkness.


The headphones went up and the music began to play. 


The music settled him, a likely throwback to the similar tunes he played when he found himself ignorant to the world: the bouncy whip of the smooth jazz; or light airy melodies of classical songs. He opened himself to the steady hum and strum of his healing music echo in his mind like a reverberated drop that rippled in an undisturbed pool of water.


It grounded him - and equally uplifted him in the same intensity, two contradictory emotions that battled inside his ear canals as he found himself blackened by the world - no, he withdrew from the world by his own actions - the freedom, the peace that came with it, as the ease of his surroundings in the way he made himself comfortable, and soothed the rapid thump of his heartbeat. 


He felt safe, like he was cocooned by his senses, a wrap of thread fine as silk, like a spider had descended - no, not a spider, that was too terrifying - er, a bird then, had dropped a heavy robe over his head, as it laid over him like dainty lace and he keened in his place.


The texture of the cloth beneath him rubbed his bare legs in a tantalizing motion of comfort, of routine, of familarility. The ethereal sound of the organ played, synthesized with the underlying tune of the flute, mixed with the faint intervals of the bells being hit allowed him to spiritually relax, his shoulders subconsciously slagged like slime, all malleable and only the slightest movement betrayed his calmness in bouts of shakes as he slowly and smoothly engulfed the genitalia (not of which he could see) - yet had been closely acquainted with the length in proxy related to his fondness for the owner. 


Deeper and deeper he allowed it - his mouth full of hot flesh that made him widen, a little more. A little bigger. He rolled his tongue around the head, across the sides, in an embarrassing manner that reminded him of slobbering all over a bone - well there was the term boner - and he inwardly snorted, as he lavished in a push-and-pull momentum. 


There was the taste, the sweet cherry flavor, and he wondered if that was all that Craig had picked up during the rimming situation, or maybe was there the added taste of skin, just like what Tweek was currently indulged himself with. 


Well, he wouldn’t say skin had an exact taste, since most of the time it was saliva that was being picked up on the taste buds of one’s tongue. It was more the texture that made him think, the pondering feel that swirled around his fleshy muscular organ as he mapped out the exact skin of his boyfriend’s shaft and balls. Skin was just skin, sometimes there was a saltiness to the organ, all wrapped around the body, and other times it was just skin, like nothing at all was added to the flavor of his exploration. 


The constant pressure of the vibrator in his ass was undeniable, as he leaned back and sighed as his prostate was vibed against in sharp strokes. He kept his hands against his boyfriend’s shaft, still deliciously teased as the blond tried to imagine the effect he had on his partner. 


Up, down, up, and down. His tongue swept across the underside, the top of the head, his mouth pressed upon the skin like it was a scarcity that he made sure to cherish. 


He wasn’t able to tell through sound whether Craig liked it, but the tactile response of a thumb swept lightly across the blond’s face, gentle rubs into flesh like the rhythmic piece that played into his ears seemed to convey enough that this was good, this was okay. 


He popped off for a moment to catch his breath, and the gentle squeeze on his shoulder represented his boyfriend’s reassurance. Tweek flitted his palms across the bare calves, and used them as a basis for stability as he pushed himself back onto the penis. 


Down he went again, and down on the vibrator simultaneously. It buzzed pleasantly, on the edge of the pleasure-dam, nudged against the precious nerve. He exhaled through the small opening made in his mouth wrapped around the dick, and edged himself closer. His lips touched the first presence of the cold metal ring and he licked around the apparatus. Fingers stroked the ballsack, all gentle like he handled freshly-made meringues. The pressure was light - a comparative difference to the object stuck inside him which had rocked back on, the heightened focus made him shiver; a full body reaction that sent tingles to his toes. 


Again, and again, he pushed himself, a little more, the beauty of the blocked world made Tweek more entwined with the awareness of his current predicament, and the fuzzy emotions that layered itself over his senses and he opened his jaw a little more and choked down more length.


Well, not choked, nor gagged, but rather casually enveloped down his throat a little further, a little more wetter across the cock. There was something calming behind the action, just a smooth transition from his mouth as a receptacle for his boyfriend’s genitals to actively act as a repository for milky emissions directly deposited down his throat. He squeezed his eyes as he gorged down and let his watery saliva coat the phallus that overtook his attention.


He was sure of his own arousal, the way it dimly susurrated its presence at the back of his eyelids, as his movement on the vibrator increased, and the pleasure notes he rode off the wave of highness, and the resounding crash as he rocked towards, and outwards.


He was reminded that he, while being isolated from the entire world, held this meticulous power because he.




Tweek was the one in charge. 


It was his decision, his movement, his choice, that held the power in this exchange. Yes, the logistics of being blinded, being audibly-blocked from the world, and the situation where it was him being penetrated might prove to the contrary of expectations of control, but it was his determination, his pace, his grip on the situation that gave him such authority. 


He was safe too.


There was a worry in everything he did. There was an obvious fear in the scenario being now presented and actively involved in, but beyond the what-ifs, and oh-gods, there was a semblance of this was acceptable. That he was being taken care of, that they were being careful and they had a system for communication. It worked; it resolved the ashy terror that ordinarily would have twisted his stomach into tight rings and wracked his brain with fright, ‘no more’ he proclaimed.


He fucked himself on the vibrator, and equally let the prick in his mouth fuck his throat without a care. When he went up, he slid the member down, let his tongue coat itself around the skin, sucked and memorised the mapping of the frenulum and the swollen head. When he went down, the hyper focused hum of the top of the toy would send him to suspire, and drink in the heavy atmosphere that discharged from the sexual acts being committed as he squirmed on the tremor of his continuation of dry orgasms. 


His hands skimmed the skin of his partner’s ballsac, his fingers lightly flicked the area, and followed the cage that contained them around--around, and against the veins of the side of the member towards the tip, again and again accompanied with slow, thoughtful licks from his tongue. 


‘Round and round, like a cycle he went, with blocks of considered neglect as Tweek controlled the timings and exact pressure of each stroke, every lap of the staff, and overwhelmed Craig in deliciously tortured gestures without any hiccups. 


The blond was sure his partner was close though. The hands around his neck and shoulders squeezed a little tighter, a little more frantic, more often; concupiscent in its meaning. With some pity, Tweek replaced the tiny darts of tongue with another thick swallow, and allowed the dick to enter his throat once more. He hummed, as the tune changed, and he replicated the bass that droned on which underlined the specific song - probably not the same pitch from his voice box - and use both his hands to flex the scrotum as he played with his boyfriend’s arousal, more and more and-


There was a flicker of a warning - no verbal of course, since he had drowned himself in his music, and no visible because the chullo blanketed his vision in total-darkness, and so the tactile reaction of skin to mouth was the only vehicle for his receptacles to latch on to the spurt of cum that spent itself down his pharynx. He was sure he made a groan, of some sort of reaction to the event, and he made a hasty movement to jerk his own erection off, just to complement his boyfriend coming down hard


Tweek wasn’t sure how many minutes had passed, how many times did he shake off the high, hungry for another one. Enough that he felt sore, that his legs shook and the ground of which he had dug his knees into began to burn, and his mouth was dry from his ravishment of the dick in his orifice. He pulled back, and felt the weight slip out of his mouth, and he panted a little - not that which he could hear himself because the playlist was still on, but he still heaved and sucked in proper air, and gulped it down like some madman. With some scrambled actions (as he wiped the residue slick on his partner’s legs), he paused the phone, took off the headphones and peaked his eyes up from the hat. He carefully removed the vibrator from his asshole (which Craig watched with a heavy interest) and slid off the cock-ring from his partner’s softened penis and set them aside for later clean-up. 


“Good?” Tweek asked once he was done, and the question came out hoarse and pained.


“God yes .” Craig seemed out of breath similarly, and a little broken in his own way. “Wow.”


“Wow yeah.” Tweek tried to laugh, but it devolved into a cough as he spluttered on the residue cum still in his mouth.


“Shit sorry.” Craig winched and looked at the reddened lips of his boyfriend. “I think you sucked my soul out. I can’t think much.”


“Darn--that’s a shame.” Tweek grinned when he found himself able to speak. “I was--hoping to take itbackto Hell--ngh, with me for the holidays.”


“Give it back, soul-sucke r.” The sullen teenager emoted with a sigh. 


“Nah, I think--hnn--I’ll keep it. Don’t you think it’s too- pretty and tasty?” Tweek quipped as he pecked his boyfriend on the mouth in response and winked. 


Tweek carefully balanced the container in one-hand, nestled in the crook of his arm, while another gripped the handle of the cardboard box with tiny holes at the top in the other. He could do this. He was going to walk straight, and not trip at any point of his journey, ring the bell, or probably more likely knock on the door, but wait, his hands were a little busy right now, what was he supposed to do…


“Hang on son. I’ve got it.” His father exclaimed and walked in-front to rap at the wooden door decorated with a garish display of festivity; a pink ribbon wrapped around spikey artificial greenery with tiny bells, and as he went closer he sniffed, yes, that were real wild flowers intertwined with the plastic leaves, still fresh and colorful like they had been picked only hours before. 


Some hurried steps were muffled behind the door, and a noise of some excited voices followed, and Tweek braced himself, his muscles tightened, his jaw clenched uncomfortably as he avoid his mother’s bored eyes, and his father’s perky smile and-


“Welcome! Richard, Theodora, and Tweek. So glad you guys could come for dinner.” Laura, Craig’s beaming mom gushed to the newly arrived guests, as she opened the door widely which allowed a warm wave of the inside-heat to sweep past, and the aroma of food, good hearty food wafted over his face, and his nostrils inhaled greedily because he missed the scent of the mouth-watering dishes after he converted, and he wasn’t brave enough to ask if they could at least replicate some of the same meals in his own household’s meals…


“Thank you for inviting us. Really, it’s saved us time for planning meals when we really need to be focusing on our trip to Denver. The city-folks won’t know what will hit them with our brew, I really do think we have a crack at the new demographic of coffee-addicts there.” Richard spoke with such zeal that Laura could only look flabbergasted at the declaration.


“Right. Well, no point of standing outside and letting all the heat out. Come in, come in. If you can give me your coats, I’ll just hang them up.” She explained, as the blonde woman made some room for them to pass.


“This winter has been rather terrible on electricity bills. Really, I think the only reason we’ve survived is because of our electric blankets and our space-heater being on for the entire night. You really should think about getting an electric blanket, it’s a life-saver.” Theodora, his mother said plainly as she walked past in a matter-of-fact tone, with the exchange of her winter coat to Craig’s mom which stopped Tweek in his tracks, as he faltered from the sudden obstacle in-front of him. 


“I’ll think about it Theodora.” Craig’s mother replied with a stiffness in her voice. “You’re more than welcome to make yourself at home in the living room, we’ll be setting up dinner shortly.”


“Great, I’m starving.” His mother divulged as she entered the house, and disappeared with a swish of her silk skirt. Tweek awkwardly looked around, his eyes trailed over the photos of the Tucker family hung near the doorway, just as Craig’s mother carefully hung his mother’s coat, an enormous mix of brown fur in a sleek design that looked like it weighed a ridiculous amount onto a hanger. 


The blonde woman turned around, a warm splotch of heat that stretched over the woman’s cheek and nose in a shocking comparison to her calm demeanor. 


“Can I help put anything away Tweek?” Laura asked kindly as she smiled at Tweek and observed the container still protected in his elbow.


“Uh! Yeah--this is the pudding. It’s kinda cold now, so you’ll have, to warm it up first.” He babbled on as he struck his container with the Christmas dessert into outstretched hands.


“Oh that’s absolutely sweet of you Tweek. Really, I didn’t mean to add extra stress for you, I only meant to bring yourself and your parents to dinner.” Laura warmly spoke as she took the container with both hands. “Craig is in his room, just mind closing the door first before you see him.”


“Ack--thanks Mrs.Tucker.” He said, as he shuffled inside the room, and closed the door with a gentle push. He cradled the cardbox box, a palm raised against the bottom, his clenched hand flexed with a nervous tick as he walked up the stairs in slow steps. He heard the noise, the chatter of the adults in the living room - his father’s laughter reverberated against the wall, and he could make out Tricia’s polite questions. 


He ascended up, one steady step in-front of each other. The doorway of his boyfriend’s room was half-open, and there was the clatter of objects being moved and dropped that seemed to emit beyond the door. Tweek knocked on it, and cleared his throat. “Hey--I’m here. I’m coming in.”


He pushed the door open, and sighted his boyfriend’s frame bent over, his upper torso disappeared in the closet as it seemed the taller teen had been rummaging around during Tweek’s arrival. With a swift turn, the teenager hopped back, and turned around with a casual greeting. “Hey Tweek. Was just putting stuff away. You got me thinking about cleaning up my room with all my shit everywhere. Do you need to put that down?” A finger pointed at the box still clutched around tight fingers. 


“Yeah. Can I just, put it in this room?” 


“Sure.” Craig replied, and moved things around to leave an empty space on his desk. “Just here if you want.”


“Thanks.” Tweek said, and carefully placed his belongings on the offered furniture. “Your mom looked--uh, really busy.”


“No kidding.” Craig rolled his eyes. “She’s been bouncing from one part of the kitchen to the next all morning and afternoon. She refuses to let anyone in that room, in-case someone fucks up her routine. I’ve been chased out for grabbing something from the fridge.”


“Wow--that, uh sucks?” Tweek sympathized with a wince. He remembered his own experiences of running a shift with his parents constantly disrupting his rhythm with strange requests and a weird overstepping presence. He’s not shy to admit he’s snapped back a little, but in his defense, it was his space he had been allocated to run. 


“Well, whatever. I get used to it. This year she’s been the most fussy.” The teen shoved his hands into his pockets, and swayed to-and-fro on the spot. “Probably because she’s got guests to entertain and show-off to.”


“Eugh. Don’t say that--my parents shouldn’t add extra pressure to your family just-because!” Tweek fumbled through his assurance. He nudged his toe at a book-pile stacked high - almost up to his knees - thick spines with covers of multiple materials: leather, plastic and hardened smooth textures in a mix. 


“It’s fine Tweek. I think she enjoys the whole chaos in a weird-way. Dad’s been looking like he’s sucked a penny the whole time preparation has been going on. Mom doesn’t trust him to boil an egg in any-case. Tricia has been pretty excited though.” Craig explained as the two of them poured over the strewn objects in the room. “She looks like she’s having a ball from not having to do anything today.”


“Did your sister decorate the wreath outside?”


“Hmm? Oh yeah, that thing. She found an old pile of plastic branches in the garage the other day and wanted to throw shit together to form a new wreath. DIY she called it. I don’t know how the fuck she got the flowers though. Cause jack-all can grow in this weather.” Craig pointed out with an exasperated tone. 


“Maybe--she had-ah, a friend who grew it in a home-garden or something.” Tweek supplied as he neatly arranged an array of highlighters and coloring pencils into a case. 


“Beats me.” Craig said.


A knock at the door captured the two teenagers’ attention. “Boys, dinner is almost finished. Craig, can you please help me set-up the dinner table. You can chat with your boy-toy after dinner and everything is finished.” Laura’s jaunty voice expressed a heightened excitement, even as she paused in mid-thought. “Or as the kids say these days, ‘your baby-boy , right sweetpea?” 


Tweek’s first-thought was why on Earth was it possible for adults to ruin everything for simply acknowledging the existence of strange, teenager humour. 


His second thought was that his boyfriend hadn’t said a word at-all, He glanced to check and he understood why, as Craig had pulled his hat over his eyes and was currently dusted pink with embarrassment. “Mom, where the fuck have you been hearing that?” He grit out in a choked tone. 


“I’m just picking out the correct slang to converse with you younglings. Anyway, stop skimping and get up and help your mom Craig Tucker.” Laura simpered with amusement. 


With a strangled groan, the teenager followed his mom down, but not without a cock of his head to symbolize the downstairs crowd, “You probably should hang-out in the living room then. No point of staying up-here alone. Dad and Tricia are probably trying to play host, you should save your parents from the disaster.”


“Fine.” Tweek acquiesced with a nod even as his face continually flamed, and made sure to check the conditions of his cardboard box as satisfactory and safe before he left, and made way for the downstairs party. He clasped his hands together, not trusting himself to not fidget and make him a fool as the Tucker family entertained his own curious parents. 


“Did you see that ludicrous display last night?” Richard articulated with a thoughtful expression to the other adult man in the house.


“What was...hold on.” Thomas contended the conversation with a weary response, “Are we really doing this? I really don’t want to talk about football for the entire night.”


“Oh, it wasn’t just me then.” Richard breathed out in relief. “I don’t like I would have lasted any longer with the small-talk.”


“Me too.” Thomas admitted, “So, business any good with Christmas?”


“Dozens of requests. Really, it’s fantastic, it’s one of our better orders this year. Some fun ones too, although I can’t reveal for privacy reasons.” Richard prattled on diligently. 


“I see.” Thomas replied blankly. “You know, I’m genuinely impressed with the color coordination of your new cakes on display last week.”


“Ah! Yes, I really channeled my inner metrosexual-self, if I do say so myself.” Richard begun, before he blinked rapidly from the memory. “I think-I did at least.”


“Haha...I still remember those days…”


The conversation flittered between his mother and Tricia seemed a little more natural - although he was sure it was because his mother had expressed she preferred a daughter rather than a son, while his father was a little more neutral. He could almost see how his mother softened around Tricia, the cooes and twinklish interest in the tidbits of talk he could understand as he strained to look interested somewhere else made him wonder.


“Oh yes. Mom talked me out of getting a pony, I really wanted one when I was seven, I think it would have been super fun riding around South Park if I managed to own one.” Tricia exclaimed as she twirled a braid through her fingers. 


“Well, I can understand why your mother would’ve shot down that idea. As much as that would be fun, I daresay cleaning up the poor thing would have made you resent it eventually.” Theodora replied as she took a slip from a mug cupped between her slender fingers.


“Nah, I think I would’ve done fine. Sometimes I help out with Stripe’s cage. You gotta do what you gotta do.” Tricia rebuked with a fierce confidence that made her seem unmoveable and unconvinced from the mild lecture.


“I suppose so. You seem pretty well-put together. Laura raised a fine young lady.” The compliment seemed cold and untrusting, even as it crept out of warmed lips. 


“Eh. Well, I wish Tweek was my older brother, and not my dumbass brother-Craig.” Tricia said all blunt and crude.


“Well, as they always say, ‘when there’s a will, there’s a way ’, so I don’t think you should give up on those dreams anytime soon.” Theodora hummed as she placed the rim of the mug against her red lips to pause her wispy words.


“Yeah, alrighty then.” Tricia frowned and looked directly at the silent blond. “Hey Tweek, you should totally teach me how to make one of your killer Portuguese Egg Tarts. Those things are to die for. Way more fun than watching Craig fix things and try to explain all the mumbo-jumbo stuff and failing.” She added with a mischievous wink. 


“I heard that you twat .” Came a muffled voice from the kitchen. In an equally smothered reaction was a sharp “ Craig Tucker! We have guests!” which Tweek deduced had been Laura’s unfortunate motifiled response at such behavior from her two children. 


“I guess there’s never a dull moment here.” Theodora remarked with tone void of any inflexion. 


“Sorry for the wait everyone. Dinner is ready to be served, so everyone come on, so please make your way to the dining table.” Laura appeared, her blonde hair tied behind in a ponytail with thin strands sticking to her flushed face in wavy clumps. An apron grasped between her foreman and her pretty grass-green dress decorated with a simple belt that tied her outfit together in an effortlessly refined aura. 


“Fooood. Good. I’m hungry.” Tricia voiced everyone’s thoughts out in an unapologetic declaration that was inwardly mirrored by the populace’s thoughts (although by now it had been socially ingrained that saying such a simple fact that people were only attending were for the food was almost an offense) and raced forward, which left Tweek to stand unfortunately alone with his parents, who looked at him expectantly.


“The Tuckers seem pretty respectable. For what they have at least.” Richard commented calmy, “Rich in conversation and ideas, which has their own perks, don’t you agree Dora?”


“Oh yes. I am quite fond of Tricia. Tweek dear, please try and stay good-terms with everyone. I would be interested to see if she would like any of my old dresses I had kept years ago.” His mother mentioned casually as she pushed herself off the couch and patted her son on the shoulder as a sign to move.


“Uh--what?” Tweek floundered as he felt himself moved forward into the designated area where dinner was to be consumed. 


It was quite the sight, he had been already accustomed to the familiar scene of the Tucker’s dinner routine (he wondered why dimly), but this was on a whole different level. The usual table with a few plates and bowls of various dishes had been replaced with a decadent array of piping hot plates and bowls filled with colorful food groups. 


The chicken, a beautiful golden brown bird was framed by fresh crisp salads in a generous heap that led his attention to study a long rectangular plate adjacent, that had juicy slices of beef with sighted view of the slather of meat liquid that pooled underneath glistened underneath the room’s overhead lights.  


He spied another long plate, one with rolls, still warm as wisps of steam floated upwards, a large bowl with another salad that resembled a Fall palette of orange, brown and green, and a bowl near the collection that had lumps of potato mash sprinkled with green squares.  


There, near the end of his observation, stood his pudding, the one he had agonized if he should have even made before the trip, which looked just as tasty as it first came out of the oven. It was hot, and looked just as delicious as it tied the table together for a feast for the senses.


People scurried around, and he watched as Laura herded her family into a compliant state as she plopped them into their respective seats identified with a small card that read a name; a designated seating plan for optimal conversation supposedly. 


At the head of the table closest to the kitchen was Mr. Tucker, while on the opposite end was Craig’s seat. Laura Tucker sat on her husband’s left, while Tricia sat next to her. On the other side, the card that read Mr. Tweak sat on Thomas’ right, with Mrs. Tweak to the side. Finally, he spied his own seat, which just so happened to be angled to his boyfriend’s chair. 


Subtle Mrs. Tucker.


Compliments were exchanged, joyous and drooling mouths over the splendid dishes that would be divided up to the inhabitants. The host family began the pray, this time in silence, and Tweek felt a little nostalgic at the scene as the Tweaks watched in an infallible flatness at the routine. A quiet choir murmur of “ Amen ” swept across one half of the table while the other seemed more than eager to dig in the parade of delicious cuisines laid on display.


“Well, dig in everyone. Don’t let the food get cold.” Laura spoke excitedly. She took some tongs and picked a fair portion of the salad on her plate, and then her husband’s (to his dismay). 


Thomas Tucker seemed more interested in the chicken to which he had started to slice and make easy portions for himself, and for the Tweaks as a polite gesture. Richard thanked the other man, and began to discuss some lecture on the care of chickens, which the two men started to squabble as they chewed on said subject.


Theodora took another sip of her mug, topped up by some freshly made Eggnog - that oddly smelled alcoholic -  and began to converse with the other lady of the household, with minor input from Tricia’s blunt observations. 


Tweek took in the candid scene, a weird calmness seemed to seep into the festive air as both families chatted varying subjects that ran tangents to new ideas and opinions. It ended up easier than he expected, afterall, he barely got any sleep last night after fussing over the multiple Plan As, Bs, and Cs (and okay Ds, and Es) just-in-case his parents didn’t like Craig’s because, inwardly, and subconsciously, he felt like they should be civil to each other at least, because. For some unidentified reason. He wasn’t going to delve too much into digesting why he acted so irrationally. 


“The bread is really nice. Have one.” Craig said as he took one and offered to his boyfriend. 


“Oh. Thanks.” Tweek accepted the beautifully baked treat and slathered a small amount of rectangular butter on a plate, his silver knife slid freely on the spongy yellow insides, and he bit in with some zeal.


It was good. Just as Craig had described. The texture, the taste, the way the flavor of the butter and bread combined made him hunger for more. 


His appetite, which he had forgotten had existed for such a long time arrived in an unbridled fervor as he took another bite and savored the taste. It seemed like he wasn’t the only one who was infatuated with the food. 


“You’ve really outdone yourself.” Tricia praised as she faced her mom, “I’m totally going to get into a food coma with this.”


“Please don’t. I rather not hear you complain about two hours later how full you still are.” Craig quipped as he took a bite of a glazed beef slice, as his silver utensils tapped on his plate as he punctuated his repartee. 


“Tough sh-I mean, tough luck bro.” Tricia began, until she shuddered after she sighted her mom’s glare and quickly corrected herself. 


“Don’t worry kids. You’re still growing, so feel free to eat until you’re satisfied.” Laura clarified with smile tinged with wariness at her children. “Good food should be enjoyed with company.” She bit into a piece of chicken, and looked at her husband expectantly through her steady gaze and eyebrows pinched together. 


“Uh. I appreciate the fact you three were able to come for dinner.” Thomas started and spoke to the right-side of the table. “Especially, since I heard there was a trip going straight to Denver tomorrow morning.”


“Not a problem Thomas, both Dora and I am just surprised we didn’t do this ensemble,” Richard waved a hand to signify this event, “earlier since we’ve known each other for so many years.”


“I guess you’re right.” Thomas admitted with belated acceptance at this new spurn friendship. The red-head dug into his plate and shoved a fork full amount of salad as a way to excuse him from the expectation of conversation.


“Pass me some bread will you bro.” Tricia asked, with her plate outstretched to humble her request, only to get nudged by her mom’s pointed stare, “Please.” She added. 


“Okay. Do you need some butter too?” Said brother responded as the rest of the table either bluntly watched, or pretended to not notice the sibling dynamic.


“Yeah.” Tricia started. “Please.” The young girl continued seemingly enhanced by the (un)willing audience to their banter, “I’m pretty sure mom will take her secret to her butter recipe to the grave. Too bad, I always wanted to be taste it in normal dinners though.” She bemoaned in a theatrical exhibition to the rest of the table. 


“I will do no such thing.” Laura retorted as primly as she could as she pierced the meat on her plate with a tight grip on her knife and fork, and chewed once in her left cheek, and twice on her right, and then swallowed before she announced demurely. “I’m just waiting until I think one of you will be ready to have the necessary skills to produce the same quality.”


“I think mom means when you’re tall enough to reach the kitchen stove Ruby.” Craig commented.


“Oh sc-I mean poo you.” Tricia stuck her tongue out in retaliation. “You’re just jealous because even Tweek has a better chance at learning the secret recipes than you.”

“I do?” Tweek felt flummoxed at the supposed relevelation as he felt his presence being marked by the two teenage Tuckers. His own parents seemed to pointedly ignore the strange chatter and instead discussed this supposed butter recipe to the adult Tuckers.


“Well.” Tricia lazily began as she twirled her fork that had a piece of bread stuck to the pointy side, “If you become my other brother, you totally count as someone who will be worthy to learn the Tucker home recipes.”


“But I--I’m not your brother in anyway?” Tweek highlighted with the tense furrow of his eyebrows knitted together. 


“You will be if you become my brother-”


“Tricia.” Craig interrupted, a slight panic in his response.


“-in-law.” The adolescent girl finished with a wink. “Oops, silly me and my girlish fantasies…”


Tweek would have rather wished he had the same nerves-of-steel as his parents didn’t even flinch at the blase accusation of fraternizing with another family so blatantly over dinner discussion, but no, he unfortunately had reacted rather explosively - and by explosive, he meant that there was currently a rather unfortunate stain of coffee grounds now artistically splattered on his shirt. 


Son of a b-


“Oh dear.” Theodora observed the mess as she took her napkin and handed to her son. “That’s going to be a mess to get out of.”


“No worries, no worries.” Craig’s mom stood up and explained, “Stuff like this happens all the time. Tweek why don’t you come with me, and I’ll get you a clean shirt. I’m sure I’ve got some of Craig’s old stuff that’ll still fit you.”


Tweek pinched at his stained shirt, and followed his boyfriend’s mom while the rest of the table was entertained as Thomas Tucker and Tricia steered a conversation somewhere else. Craig looked like he was half-decided to ditch the table, but a stern look from his mom settled his ass onto his seat.


“Now where did I put his old shirts.” Laura murmured to herself as she peeked through a closet. “Ah, there’s it is.” She held it out like it was a prized possession with both her hands as it hung from the shoulders. Tweek widened his eyes as he recognized it, one of the few pieces of clothing that had more than the primary color of blue as the palette. 


There was the dynamic perspective of a sleek racecar in hot pursuit with streaks of hot fiery sparks and a catchphrase in sharp lettering of ‘catch I at xtreme speed’. It had been a purchase at a shady market where Craig and himself found bootleg items in a glorious fit of hilarity and amusement. Tweek had fond memories of the shirt being worn by his boyfriend, but this was years ago, when Craig was only slightly taller and just a bit thicker than the former. 

“I’ll put it in the wash, and you should be able to wear tomorrow.” Laura cheerfully said as she exchanged the bootleg shirt.


“Thanks, Mrs. Tucker.” Tweek gushed as he took the professed offering.


“Oh Tweek, you can call me Laura. It’s easier.” Craig’s mother - no - Laura said as she closed the door and let the teenager change. 


By the time Tweek had come back to the dinner table, the conversation had stiffened down and he sat down to only watch the same remembrance in Craig’s eyes as he took in the shirt’s presence.  


Tweek scooped a portion of the salad on his plate, and drizzled on some dressing and ate, relishing the smooth texture and leafy tastes. It was undeniable how strange his appetite seemed to have flourished during this dinner exchange, and it settled his stomach instead of usually making it topsy-turney. 


“You know, it’s pretty interesting how before families would offer dowry before weddings. I think it would be a fun logistical thought-experiment if same-sex marriage had been legalised back then.” Richard swirled his drink in his mug as he pondered his hypothetical scenario, “I mean, hypothetically, how would they decide which family would offer the payment, by age? I suppose that would be the most logical explanation.”


“Yes, dear. The assumption would most likely fall for the youngest. It’s unlikely they would have couples that are the exact age.” Theodora agreed as she took a piece of the pudding and scooped up the mixture of nuts and browned crumbs into a spoon and swallowed the dessert like it was bliss-incarnate. 


“What even, are you talking about…?” Thomas faltered, his eyebrows shot up as he worked through the shock of such a scenario being unceremoniously dropped on his head. “How does this even work?”


“By age. Sorry, was my conclusion a little weak? I could offer more logical points if you would like.” Richard breezily announced, not at all bothered by the confusion evident in the other man’s voice.


Thomas mumbled out his response, and pushed himself up as he collected his dirty plates from his family’s side and offered to do the same from the Tweak’s, “No, that’s fine. I’m just. Going to grab some clean plates from the kitchen. Excuse me.”


“I suppose if we still had such traditions, the Tweak family would be the one offering dowry.” Richard detailed his scenario with more excuriating technicalities, at this point at an accelerating speed of arguable points, “Of course, would the emasculating aspect still exist in a same-sex marriage if it had been socially normalized?”


“Hmm. Maybe not? There’s still the chance that family dynamics would have been altered drastically. Could they sustain a village’s population on such an accordance?” Theodora theorized with equal interest to her husband’s proposal. 


“Well, the percentage of same-sex relationships would never reach the same level of hetereosexual couplings, so it’s likely they would have sustained in some areas.” Richard bounced off the thought as he crossed his arms in deliberation. 


Tweek was sure the curious stare from Tricia and Craig had already burned through his soul, as he wished he could melt away instead of this spectacle of this often common train-of-thought dinner discussions. 


“Larger villages?” Laura added as she tried to grasp the current conversation’s tangent. 


“Yes, I presume so.” Theodora said as she took another swig from her mug. 


Laura took a quick glance at the absent seat of her husband’s that still had not been filled, as she observed the concepts being bounced around, “That’s some. Very intellectually stimulating ideas you have there. Is this a general conversation at the family table for you folks?”


“Oh, I suppose so. Tweek sometimes drops great golden nuggets of information, don’t you son?” Richard gestured to said blond. 


“I--gah--do?!” He responded as he blinked from his murky thoughts that had attempted to decipher the message being played on Craig’s face through his facial expression.


“He’s a little too modest, but he really does have some fascinating things to add.” Theodora carried on, her words a little more slurred, but more giggly in her tone. 


“That’s sweet.” Tricia sustained the compliment chain with her own addition, “Tweek definitely knows a lot of different subjects. It’s pretty cool ‘cause I feel like I’m learning without having to think too much.”


“He’s well-read.” Craig offered as he took a small sip of his cup, all blunt but just as affectionate which made Tweek feel all warm and fuzzy like he had fairy floss tickling his stomach. 


“I’ve got the plates. Let’s finish as much as we can.” The head of the Tucker household announced suspiciously as the conversation diverted into something more mundane. Fresh plates were passed around, and the talk stayed grounded until the dishes went from nearly-full, to completely cleaned as the festive feast was eagerly devoured.


“I’ll start cleaning up.” Laura established as she started to pick-up the finished dishes, plates scrapped from all signs of the food before them only an hour ago, to even which Tweek had polished off a fair portion (to his surprise, and his parents’ as well). “Why don’t you all head to the living room while I’ll do so.”


“Oh, well look at that. I just realized you have an electronic keyboard here. How did I miss that?” Richard pointed out as the two families hung around awkwardly, “Why don’t you have Tweek here play us some tunes. I’m sure it’ll pass the time quite quickly.”


“I don’t know. Us Tuckers aren’t really singers y’know.” Thomas began, and looked more than likely to bolt out and help his wife rather than stay and belt out some Christmas songs. 


“Ignore dad here. He’s just embarrassed because we caught him singing off-tune to an old Pop song once.” Tricia jumped in and excitedly exclaimed, “Tweek please can you play the keyboard for us, preeeeetty pleaseeee?” She enunciated her request with an elongated exaggerated and battered her eyelashes. 


“Nggh--fine.” The blond relented as he felt the stares of all the people in the room - sans Craig and Thomas - and took a look at the familiar keyboard. While he had not directly played Token’s ex-instrument, he had a general idea of the uses of the electronic version, and was sure he wouldn’t fuck up too specatularly considering he had years of memories that consisted of him playing various Christmas songs in plays or assemblies (or at gatherings in general where he was able to find a piano to experiment with). 


He might be a tad rusty, but he was passable, as he stretched out his fingers and gingerly laid them over the keys. With a flick - Tweek saw how Craig had walked forward to switch things on - he tapped on the keys and played a scale as a warm-up.


He thought of an easy song - one that he was sure everyone would know without an issue - and pressed down to create the familiar rhythm. It took a second for the tune to sink in, but when it did, it was almost magical how easily it was picked up, first by his father, and then accompanied by his mother and Tricia, and then Craig’s nasally rendition (which made the blond smile outwardly), and even Thomas mumbled through the lyrics as it picked up. 

“Jingle bells, jingle bells


Jingle all the way,


Oh what fun it is to ride


In a one-horse open sleigh,


Jingle bells, jingle bells


Jingle all the way,


Oh what fun it is to ride


In a one-horse open sleigh!”

Tweek felt the glee, it was almost tangible, and it tasted like peppermint and sweets, and sugar and cinnamon, and it felt warm and comforting; the texture all ooey and gooey. 


He fired off another memorable bar, and the resounding involvement was as equally electrifiing with Tricia as the spearheader for the song. 

“Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer


Had a very shiny nose,


And if you ever saw it


You would even say it glows!”

Another fizzled through, with a raucous that rattled through the house. The two men seemed to have become confidants in this shared experience, physically closer than the beginning of the evening. His mother (as he observed) had taken out a tiny flask and slipped out some liquid into her almost empty mug and tipped it back, before she happily smiled and sang. 


“We wish you a Merry Christmas


We wish you a Merry Christmas


We wish you a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!


Good tidings we bring to you and your kin


We wish you a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!”


The song finished off with a roar of laughter, and it made Tweek choke on nothing as he flexed his fingers and watched the conversations flow together. Craig’s mom had returned at some point, and was being bombarded with some attention from his own mother, who had a lazy grin painted on her reddish lips that had split open to show off her teeth. 


“You’re looking rather, uh, spirited there Theodora.” Laura said weakly as she took a sneaky glance at the still held mug.


“Thea! Laura, my dear, call me Thea! Saying my whole name makes me sound like a wretched old woman.” Thea declared in a girlish demand as she crackled the utmost un-ladylike into the other woman’s shoulder. 


Tricia bounded towards him, as her hands grasped onto some sheets of paper and she shoved them towards him in eager interest. “Please, please Tweek. Can you try playing this for me?” She begged and mithered as she shook them at him like a salt-shaker.


Tweek looked nervously at the offered papers, and looked at his boyfriend for a sign. Craig gave a tired shrug at his sister’s antics, and so with feeble vigor, the blond took the papers and studied the sheet music. He skimmed over them, noting the chord units. With a curt nod at Tricia’s wishful face he began to play. She picked up soon enough and began to sing, all tearfully and full of flavor as everyone seemed to blend into the background. 

“Last Christmas, I gave you my heart


But the very next day you gave it away


This year, to save me from tears


I'll give it to someone special


Once bitten and twice shy


I keep my distance


But you still catch my eye


Tell me, baby


Do you recognize me?


Well, it's been a year


It doesn't surprise me…”


Before he realized it, Tweek genuinely found himself involved in the spiel, the songs, the excitement and the cheer. His cheeks started to hurt from how much he smiled through the Christmas haze.

It seemed that everyone had joined in for the rendition of a staple modern-day Christmas song. The two adult men had slung an arm against each other for stability as they belted out the mumbled mess of the carcass of lyrics that had emerged from the recesses of their memories. The two mothers were equally as affectionate (well, at least his mother was), as Theadora giggled and whooped along the instrumental parts of the song. Tricia had continued her tearful version (and really, he was sure there had to be some backstory behind this which he would try and coax from the pre-teen because she seemed so friendly towards him as dinner had shown). 


The time rolled through, and Tweek found himself in-front of his parents as they waved off from the door as they left in their car into the cold night. 


“Well, I think you’ve been too many times for me to point out the necessities.” Laura pursed her lips as she stared at Tweek’s presence - yet again - for a sleepover. “Try and not make too much noise will you?”


“Mom means that you two shouldn’t fuck on Christmas because you’ll ruin their holiday sleep .” Tricia yelled out and bolted as Laura’s screech echoed in the hallway.


“Ack! I--wasn’t. I didn’t, um.” Tweek stammered as he made his way up to where he would be resting. He walked towards his cardboard box and gently checked to make sure nothing wrong happened in the past few hours. 


“Finally. I think mom forced Ruby to clean up the table for being rude.” Craig said as he entered his room, and scanned his boyfriend’s figure in the bedroom. “So. We’re finally alone.”


“Yeah. We are.” Tweek admitted, and avoided eye-contact as he held the cardboard box behind his back. “Uh. So, I wanted to give you your present  early, but. UM. Here!” He whipped out the box and offered it to Craig.


The other teenager gently pried the box from his partner’s hands and opened it. The squeaky noises suddenly made more sense.


“Oh. She’s beautiful.” Craig said as he took the animal from her simple home. Cradled carefully in Craig’s palm was a sleek guinea pig with a white coat speckled with dark black spots. “Thank you Tweek. Did you give her a name?”


“Nah, I wanted you to do it.” 


“Okay. I think I’ll call her Spotti. With an ‘I’.” Craig said after a minute of thinking. 


“Ingenious.” Tweek huffed in tease.


“Shush. This time, I’ll be the favorite parent.” Craig bantered back. “I’ll put her with Stripe so they’ll get acquainted. Wait here for a bit, and turn around, okay. I want it to be a surprise.”


“Huh what surprise?” Tweek mumbled as he followed his boyfriend’s instructions. There was the undeniable sound of things being knocked over and Craig cursing in the background which made the blond worried. Just what on Earth was happening?


A tap on the shoulder signified the motion to turn around. What was presented was nothing short of an overkill. A massive sandbag which Craig leaned on as the taller teenager held it straight with his elbow. “I was hoping to get it driven to your place tomorrow. When dad drops you off, I’ll put it in the trunk and set it up at your place. There’s also an inflatable Tumbler Roly Poly that I haven’t put air in yet.”


“Oh Craig.” Tweek said as he stared glossily at his partner. “That’s...I fucking love it.”


“Good.” Craig replied, suddenly perky. “Thought you’ll enjoy a stress-reliever that’s a bit more productive.”


“Are--you, urk, calling our sex-life unproductive?” Tweek snorted into his hand.


“No. Just really distracting. Let me put this away, and grab some of your clothes you left behind for PJs.” Craig supplied as he lugged the sandbag away with his frame that seemed to engulf the heavy equipment.


Okay, so Tweek ogled at the scene a little. 


Just, a tad.


He checked on Stripe’s and Spotti’s shared cage while he waited, pleased to see that the two guinea pigs were at least civil to each other as they sniffed the other’s presence.


“Hey, look what I found babe.” Craig staunted back with clothes and something else. He held it up and waved the object with a flick of his wrist.


“Oh! It’s the book--about, nngh, the different rocket ships.” 


“Yeah. Brings back a lot of memories. I think I used to read this religiously.” Craig sighed as he passed forward the clothes. 


“Hah! I remember. You used to use it for wide-reading, for weeks on end.” Tweek snickered as the memory popped up. “Our freshman teacher got pisssseeed when you--wouldn’t change books.”


“There’s worse shit I could have read.” Craig argued as he carried to the bed. “Fuck. This brings me back.”


“Good stuff?” Tweek asked as made himself comfortable under the quilts. He snuggled the pillow in his arms, and laid his twatchy hair atop the softness of the head support. 


“Mmm.” Craig agreed as he crept into the bed, and kept his lamp on. “I used to reread this at night too.”


“Do you think anything’s changed then?” Tweek said as he closed his eyes and listened to the non-committal hum next to him. 


The monotoned dictation of the words on the pages of the non-fiction book strummed in his ear-canals as Craig recited information that encapsulates the inner workings of coordinating a team in outer space.


Lulled by the voice of his boyfriend’s sparkling dreams, Tweek drifted off as Christmas passed in a billowing serendipitous occasion.