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They were unironically playing Taco-Flavoured Kisses and it was ear grating. Usually Craig can handle that, walk out and leave them to do their stupid shit till he could recharge and handle them later. But his legs felt bolted to the floor and it felt like everyone was looking at him.
They were, weren't they? He can't leave cause if he does everyone will hate him, as if they don't already. The only reason he was here was cause Clyde felt pity for him. How sad does someone have to be to be pitied by Clyde? Would they have let him in if happy-go-lucky chubster Clyde wasn’t next to him with a few six packs of beer under his arm?
Craig thinks not.
Maybe he’d have some more fun if he actually drank some of that shit they brought, but last time he got drunk was with McCormick. Kenny called him a pussy for not wanting to down straight vodka so Craig crumbled under the obvious ploy and decided to stick it to him. After a while his stomach started twisting wrong so now the smell of alcohol makes him think of the burn of vodka along with the taste of stomach acid and it makes him physically ill.
What the fuck was that smell? They’re at Bebe’s place, it’s clean and he shouldn’t have to worry but his brain was on overdrive and to distract from all the people that were quickly melting into one amorphous horde he was all too aware of his surroundings. It was a gross mix of perfume, booze and something burning. What’s burning? Nothing, far as he could tell. Fuck, is he having a stroke?
His hands were shaking and he was staring at them, not noticing the piece of the herd that broke off and drifted to him. Not before it was too late, Tweek’s hand landing on his shoulder. Everything was a blur but when he came back to Tweek was staring at him with angry and worried eyes, a little twitch in the left one showing the pain he was trying to hide.
Craig was crushing his wrist, holding the hand between them and off of his body. He felt Tweek’s bones shift in his grip and quickly let go.
“What the fuck, Craig?!” Tweek violently shook his hand out, trying to restore the blood flow. There was something endearing about him being pissed at Craig. It's a rare occurrence, since Tweek is more the type to worry about everything and anything else that he had no energy to use on being pissy with Craig on top of it. That’s usually where they’d cut off, Craig letting Tweek have his moments and the two of them coming back around whenever either of them needed it.
Is that why Tweek’s here?
Craig was trying to ask that exact question but he felt as though someone hit mute on him. He tried again but all that did was move the mouth flaps and make him aware of the oxygen that was leaving and entering his mouth without being used to form actual words. He suddenly realised he’s in a corner of the room and the space around them felt ten times smaller, like if he straightened out his permanent slouch his head would hit the ceiling.
Tweek’s hands were on him again but he wasn’t able to defend himself anymore, his hands felt clammy and as though they were vibrating, like even if he tried he couldn’t get a proper grip on Tweek. With a few pushes and pulls Tweek got him moving. Through the world closing in on Craig and the bodies of everyone around him, about to crush him, he was able to catch a glimpse of the determined look on Tweek’s face and appreciate it for a split second before he shut off.
Tweek could just sense the very second that Craig disappeared from the present. His eyes went a bit empty and dragging him up the stairs felt like dealing with a zombie. It was hard to keep the drag of Craig’s gangly legs and the pitter patter of Tweek’s stroll synced at any given moment but now it was bad enough to where Craig’s foot got caught on the carpet, Tweek barely managing to catch him.
“I got you, c- come on, man, I got you,” Tweek whispered to soothe, despite knowing Craig likely couldn’t hear him right now. Tweek could use some support too, the undignified sound that Craig made when he was about to crash face first into the floor was just painful to hear.
The last few trudges to the bedroom of Bebe’s parents ended with Tweek throwing Craig to the bed and leaving the door open while he went to open the window, creating a draft to let Craig get some air and cool down. Tweek would’ve taken them to Bebe’s room but the violent assault on the eyes that was the pink of everything would probably just make Craig vomit. Craig was stretching his fingers, a good sign that he’s probably coming back to the realm of the living. Tweek hovered over him, looking down with worry. Another good sign was Craig focusing on Tweek’s sunken eyes, scowling at that condescending expression of worry.
“Fuck off. Get me-” he gasped and cut himself off, his hands clenching into fists at his sides and him going completely rigid with a dry sob. Tweek easily ignored the animosity, his warm fingers managing to worm their way into Craig’s hands, giving the jet a good yank to sit him upright. Craig went against his will, head falling to Tweek’s shoulder and his arms instinctively wrapping his spaz up, hands escaping to clench in Tweek’s shirt. Tweek shivered, feeling the sweat on Craig’s hands through his thin shirt. He might as well have been wearing nothing.
With a sigh Tweek settled down, letting Craig use him like a teddy bear. While he was here he listened to what Craig asked of him, even if Craig didn’t manage to finish his request (demand). Tweek crossed his arms over Craig’s back, one hand slipping down to Craig’s ass to get at his pack. Tweek frowned at how beaten up it looked but it made sense when he looked in and found a single upside down cig and Craig’s lighter.
“Lucky you,” Tweek murmured bitterly - it was incredibly morbid that Craig still did that shit and Tweek hated the implication. Tweek pulled back enough to stick the cancer in Craig’s mouth, lighting it for him, kissing Craig on the forehead before standing up and leaving him like a mother letting her kid keep busy with a binky.
He turned back around to Craig after closing the bedroom door, accidentally making eye contact and freezing for a sec. Craig was looking straight at him and the rare vulnerability behind his eyes had a certain Medusa effect, Tweek held captive and gnawing at his lip nervously as he watched Craig suck in the smoke of his lucky cigarette. He still holds it with his index and middle finger, maybe as a middle finger to Kenny who calls him gay for it. Tweek is happy Craig’s petty like that, since Craig looks good like this. He’s got long bony fingers that just wouldn’t be done justice by clutching a ciggy like a squirrel with its last nut.
There was a shift and Tweek could almost feel the atmosphere changing around him, Craig producing a microscopic smile that still managed to crinkle his eyes a bit as his breathing evened out. Tweek frowned, feeling like this was not the right time, their unspoken stand-off still going. But then Craig sat back as he ashed the cig in a cup on the nightstand, his free hand going to his belt and making Tweek’s eyes pop out wide as saucers.
They were dysfunctional and often considered toxic and not right for each other, what with being so on-again-off-again and not talking much in front of others. But that’s fine, cause it’s just that others don’t know that they don’t really need that. They’re in the right place at the right time every time for each other.
Oh, and they fuck a lot.
Even now Tweek had forgotten that Craig was on the brink of crying just a few minutes ago, feeling his mouth flood with saliva as Craig shamelessly worked his belt open. Two can play this game. Tweek kept his eyes trained on Craig, his hand moving behind himself to flick the lock on the door before launching for the bed, making Craig bounce a bit when the blond landed on it. It was easy to hide his smile behind what little of his cig he had left, folding his other arm behind his head and letting Tweek’s eager hands do the work in yanking his pants down.
It infuriated Tweek how cool Craig could act after such a bad reaction to - what? 20 or 25 of the people they know, all in one place? It was pathetic and it was bullshit and that anger at the stupid facade is exactly what got Tweek so fired up, hands fumbling in how eager he was to wipe the smug look off of Craig’s face, smashing his face into Craig’s to suck the smirk off his lips while his hands still struggled to get at the real prize.
Maybe sex was a bad cope but it’s not like they haven’t had whatever this conversation is before. The both of them are probably able to very clearly predict exactly what either of them would say, you kind of get to know a person when you’ve been fucking them for ages. Tweek would ask why Craig even came here, Craig would say he needs to not be seen as a socially recluse retard, Tweek would say taking care of himself and not hyperventilating to death is a bit more important, Craig would find it endearing and call Tweek out for being gay, Tweek would spaz out and say this is serious, then eventually they’d still end up tangled up in the sheets of Bebe’s parents’ bed. Might as well skip ahead to the good part.
Craig tried to pry Tweek’s lips open, but Tweek knew this old trick and wouldn’t fall for it, keeping his mouth shut long enough for the smoke in Craig’s lungs to evaporate before he bit Craig for even attempting, what little was left of the smoke escaping him in a gasp, hips canting up into Tweek’s hands. Tweek could take a hint and he was getting too hungry for it as is, finally disconnecting to scoot back. Apparently at some point his hand had subconsciously hugged around Craig’s dick, palming at the flesh firmly till it was rigid in his hand. He spared Craig being subjected to his dry palm for much longer, hands escaping to press bruises into Craig’s hips as he held him still and sucked the head of his cock into his mouth.
Tweek’s methods of sipping the smugness out of Craig through his dick were working, Craig unable to smirk as he stared entranced down at Tweek, breaths puffing out of his open mouth more rapidly the deeper down Tweek’s throat he went, ending with a gasp when Tweek’s button nose pressed into his happy trail and Tweek’s draino-green eyes snapped up to Craig’s blissed expression. Tweek wishes he could still be acting annoyed with Craig for not taking care of himself but all he could muster up was adoration, the hypersexual side of his brain winning over the always worrying part and turning him to mush, just happy to have a heavy dick occupying his throat, quieting his constantly whirring brain.
One of Tweek’s hands took the bruising pressure off of Craig’s hip, eagerly sliding down his own front to struggle to undo his pants and be able to get off in tandem to Craig, being a lot more gentle with himself than he was with Craig. Predictably they were exactly as you’d expect them to be in bed, with Craig being a callus fucker that could cum without a single muscle in his face giving any sort of twitch (it took Tweek ages to learn to break him) and Tweek shaking with any gentle pet. It’s like Tweek is cosmically bound to Craig, cause even if he wanted to he wouldn’t be able to find someone who knew to work him as good as he himself or Craig did. Maybe he wouldn’t be so sensitive if beating it wasn’t his favourite way to not think of meth and he hadn’t worked himself raw.
Tweek’s breathing changing to something more erratic made Craig melt into the headboard, the cigarette now just a filter hanging between his fingers as he took in Tweek’s hard work. Craig’s brain was, for once, devoid of thought, letting the filter drop wherever in order to have his hands free and be able to tangle them in Tweek’s hair, massaging at his scalp as a precursor to gripping his locks and rolling his hips up into the blond’s mouth, Tweek slurping at his dick to the best of his abilities as his throat was used in deep little thrusts, slow as to not get Tweek gagging up a lung. Cool he might want to front as, Tweek was still able to catch the endearing occasional pets, not cockdrunk enough yet to miss Craig’s palms drifting round to his cheeks, fingers gentle in checking Tweek’s bruised eyebags for tears. It was sweet and Tweek returned the affection by forcing himself to swallow around Craig a few times, making Craig gasp in surprise, back arching a bit in a fruitless attempt to get deeper into Tweek.
“Gonna cum, Tweek- Tweek, baby, gonna cum,” Craig hissed, knowing it's unnecessary but hey, maybe one day Tweek will decide he doesn’t want to suction onto Craig’s cock like a person dying of thirst to a faucet whenever Craig gives him the promise of a load. Unlikely. Though if it were to ever happen it sure isn’t today, Tweek making a gross little gulping sound as he swallowed every millilitre of cum Craig poured down his throat.
“Holy fuck, ho- oh fuck, shit.” Tweek used Craig’s panted out praise for the spanking material it was, the breathiness of it making his nasally voice taste like heaven. Tweek’s thumb pressed more firmly into his own slit, riding back and forth over the ridge as the rest of Tweek’s hand spastically jerked at his shit, his jaw starting to ache from being forced to stay open by Craig’s cock but that just got him all the more woozy. He couldn’t comprehend anything around himself anymore, his brain was lasered in on two points, a taut band tying them together as the two points it was being overworked through - his dick and his mouth, tongue being greedy in continuing to lazily lathe at the underside of Craig’s dick. Eventually Craig hissed in oversensitivity rather than pleasure, the butt of his palm being a good cushion to slowly push Tweek’s head away and get his dick out of the fly trap that is Tweek’s hungry mouth.
“Want help with-” Craig started but never finished his sentence when Tweek cried out, head dropping to Craig’s hip as he curled up and shook through his orgasm, spilling onto the pristine sheets. Craig’s eyes went wide at the show, but he didn’t let himself enjoy it too long, coming to when Tweek started going lax. He couldn’t help with getting Tweek off (he’s unaware of just how much he helped) but he at least gave Tweek a shove to the side when he noticed that the spastic was about to fall into the puddle of his own cum currenly seeping into the Stevens’ mattress. Craig was bummed he didn’t have any more cigs to go with the afterglow and appreciating Tweek, the blond’s eyes drifting in and out of being focused and opened as his thighs still gave minute twitches barely visible through the baggy jeans that covered everything except his crotch and ass.
Speaking of.
Craig gave that same bare ass an appreciative grope before yanking Tweek’s bottoms up. Tweek might still be too cumdrunk to care or even hear it but Craig was now aware of the banging on the bedroom door, it not drowned out by the downstairs music almost at all - how long had it been going? Doesn’t matter. Craig hiked his own pants up and gave Tweek a few soft slaps on the face but paused. Tweek looked how Craig felt, just completely blissed out, a bit of cum somehow smeared on his cheek. He felt bad about shaking the satiated whore out of Tweek but they really had to get a move on.
“Who’s in there?! Parents bedroom off limits, come on, Bebe’s said this sooooo many times!” Tweek’s eyes snapped open at Clyde’s door-muffled bitching, bolting up and about to let out one of his involuntary exclamations but hushed by Craig’s hand over his mouth. Craig dragged him up and to the window, sliding it open and being the first to make the plunge out of it, landing on the not too far down garage roof and holding his arms open for Tweek to join him, their shameful escape becoming like something out of a shitty romcom when Tweek looked between the door now shaking with Clyde’s banging and down at Craig’s outstretched arms. He sent up a quick prayer before going for it, thinking he might actually be in love when Craig managed to catch him.
But this isn’t actually a romcom and they aren’t actually that lucky. Craig’s foot slipped on the frozen roof and they were tumbling down into the narrow gap separating house and garage. The risk of them tumbling wrong and splitting a skull open on the wall of either building was high but apparently they did have some luck, landing safe, if not scuffed up, into a pile of leaves and snow.
Once again they had to match their strides as Tweek dragged them away, no longer skittering but instead running away, Craig finding that a lot easier to match than the previously mentioned usual pitter patter of Tweek’s feet. All it took was almost getting caught dick in mouth and dick in hand, respectively.