A/N: HOLY SHIT. I'M ALIVE AND ALL THAT. Yes, it's true. I have not abandoned this fic. There are many, many reasons it's taken me months to update, though. Srs. I'll briefly explain some of them on dA, since I don't wanna cheat word count much more. If you don't really care about the excuses and for some reason just want to read this awful piece of crap, by all means – read on. ;D
THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO CONTINUES TO READ THIS! There should be about two more chapters, or another chapter and an epilogue. Or something. Still working it out.
Also: I'll try pm-ing anyone who reviews. I've been meaning to do it, but I've never gotten around to it.
Also-also: I'm not a big fan of this chapter. I am SO SORRY in advance. ;w;
Plus-Also: There's that M rating again, lovlies. ;] It's a little more explicit than last time. You've been warned! X3
"You Can Always Just Take"
I didn't want to go home.
The playground was freezing, and the wind stung my ears, and if Barbrady caught us my dad would talk my frozen ears off with his super metaphors, and I would never be able to take coffee orders or sing or hear Craig say my name ever again! Oh god! But – even though the temperature was dropping steadily, and we were technically trespassing – Craig was warm. He kept bringing his swing sideways to kiss me on the cheek while we talked. I stopped swinging after another few minutes, and he came over to stand in front of me again, holding the chains just above where I put my hands and leaning down like he had to tell me he was my hero. This made me blush again, as I pictured him in a shining suit of armor, or dressed like a superhero in a billowing cape of midnight blue. Craig was of course much more handsome than any superhero or knight, so my brief fantasy overwhelmed my growing erection. He was already making me hard (which of course was embarrassing and made me blush brighter) with the way he kept kissing me and holding me, being so close and kind. Oh Jesus – what if he saw my erection and stopped touching me?
But… no. No, he said he wanted to touch me, he wanted to kiss me. He kept telling me these things, so why couldn't I let myself believe it? Maybe I would never really let myself believe it, even if I wanted to. Which I did! But maybe nothing I did would ever leave me flattering myself with possibilities of being who he wanted. Wasn't it enough that he kept promising me, kissing me, calling me his king?
"So you're like… my, ngh, my knight?" I asked tentatively as we noticed the time and made our way back to the car. My hand squeezed his in an anxious spasm, and I winced in apology.
Squeezing back gently, Craig bumped my shoulder lightly, making my head automatically whip around to stare up at him. He was smiling faintly, and flicked hair out of his eyes as he murmured, "Yeah. Your knight. Like Lancelot to King Arthur."
"I always thought of Lancelot—GAH!—as kinda stupid," I told him before I could bite my tongue. When he raised an eyebrow in what I could only hope was amusement, I blushed vibrantly and squealed at my mistake. "OH GOD! I didn't mean—that is—hngh, I don't think you're stupid! Really!" Twitching severely, I tugged on my—Craig's—coat with my free hand to keep from yanking on my hair. "You're, ngh, really smart! I know it, I just, hrk, oh man! This is way too much PRESSURE!" I wailed pathetically, clenching my hand into a fist and beating my head in frustration. How dare I imply Craig was stupid? There was no way he was stupid! What was I thinking? I'd seen too my TV shows as a kid, read way too many fantasy novels. It was unusual for me to think of anyone as stupid – mostly because I had a hard time understanding a lot of things without really, really focusing – but I understood when I was little that Goofy was slow, Pooh wasn't very bright, and Goldilocks was just plain dumb. Why I blurted my opinion about Lancelot, I couldn't even guess.
Sighing, my ebony-haired hero turned to stand before me, stopping my shaky steps instantly and easily pulling my arm down. His arm snaked smoothly around my waist, and as he pulled me closer, I could feel myself grow weaker by the second. "Relax, Tweekers," he said quietly, pressing my smaller body against his stronger frame. "I'm not offended." He chuckled, calmly running his long fingers through my ridiculous hair and kissing the top of my head. "It was the only example I could think of. Don't worry so much."
"Okay, C-Craig," I meekly squeaked, rubbing my face in his chest.
He had to help me over the fence again, and part of me felt like a damsel in distress. This made me feel silly and stupid, and extremely embarrassed when the other part felt like a little kid again. I just hoped I wasn't too heavy.
"Wanna chill tomorrow?" the beautiful raven asked casually once we were in the car.
"SWEET JESUS! Um," I blurted obnoxiously, my eyelid twitching of its own free will. He tousled my hair with a smirk while I blushed, avoiding his azure gaze. "I'd, ngh, like that, C-Craig," I stammered shyly, wringing the ends of my favorite green shirt.
Pulling my head carefully sideways, he tenderly kissed the top of my head again, making me whimper. "Cool. Let's get you home, yeah?" he murmured, starting the car and smiling slightly.
I curled up in my seat for the ride, hugging my knees. I wasn't cold – Craig was blasting the heater to make sure I couldn't be – but I was embarrassed and self-conscious and actually a little tired. Maybe I would be able to sleep once I got home. Craig seemed wide awake, watching me when he wasn't watching the road, and I hid most of my face in my knees, trembling as though I'd actually had coffee in the last two hours. A large fraction of my brain started to panic about caffeine withdrawal, but thankfully Craig interrupted my mental rant before it got very far.
"We're here, Tweek."
"AUGH!" I shrieked, sitting upright as my feet hit the floor of the car. "Oh. Okay, C-Craig," I replied dumbly, fumbling once again with my seatbelt. Leaning over, he made me squeak in surprise before he nudged my nose with his, gently stealing my lips and smoothing a hand over the side of my face, a click letting us know my seatbelt was loose. My breath caught in my throat as his cool fingers brushed into my hair, and I sighed almost dreamily, unthinking. "C-Craig…"
His mouth was hypnotizing, gentle and hungry, urging my heart to swell and my crotch to press condemningly against my jeans. This made me blush, but I welcomed his approach and shifted in my seat to let him climb over me. His bigger hands supported his weight on the door handle behind me and the edge of the seat-back. Any other time – only a few days ago, even – I would've been intimidated and terrified. Well, I was, but for different reasons. It was no longer his eminent hate that intimidated me, but his protective warmth. His beautiful, strong figure still terrified me, but now it was because he wanted me with it instead of knowingly tormenting me with it.
"Tweek," Craig's quiet, mesmerizing voice lowed in my ear as he leaned his body over mine, lips brushing lightly over my jaw line. My fingers gripped anxiously and I shivered in response, shutting my eyes unconsciously. "I'll only say it one more time, since I know you might be sick of hearing it…"
Oh god, what was he talking about? I never got sick of anything Craig said! How could he not know that? What could he possibly think he could say that would make me sick? I never even got sick of 'Spazmoid,' even though it had hurt each time he said it… "W—hrk—what?" I squeaked tentatively.
"OH JESUS!" I wailed dismally.
"No, Christ, just – please," he sighed, pulling back to meet my eyes with saddened blue. "I needed to. I want to do so much more with you—" My shriek was brief and unnoticed. "—because I've realized what I should have done a long time ago. I need you… and you need me."
"GAH! How did, ngh, did you know?" I strained in panic, shaking like a leaf under his unrelenting sapphire eyes. It was like I couldn't escape them, and this thought fueled my alarm. "Wait – why would you, hngh, need me?" I finally caught, gaping dumbly at him.
"His fingers gently feathered over my face, and it took my stunned brain a moment to register that he was once again moving messy bangs out of my eyes. I winced when he smiled so kindly at me. "Hell if I know," he answered softly. "I just do."
When he kissed me again, this time lowering himself carefully onto me, my heart leaped with absolute joy and strange excitement. He needs me, he needs me, I repeated ecstatically in my head. Sweet Jesus this is real! Unconsciously, I gripped the front of his sweatshirt tighter, parting my lips to grant him the access I was craving; he tasted so good, and my tongue was begging for his flavor again. Craig obliged, teasing my palette as he lifted my legs to slide them underneath himself, across the front seat. Now that he was fully on top of me, the weight of his fantastic form pressing against me, the boner in my underpants was as hard as it had ever been. His hand was unbuttoning my shirt, not helping the matter in the slightest. My mind was caught between panic and elation, screaming for oxygen and preserving innocence I didn't really possess, while at the same time being impatient for what the boy sparking my hormones would do next. A small whine sounded in the back of my throat when he moved a tad to his right, his hard-on pressing into mine, our reactions mutual. My hands flew into his hair, taking fistfuls and crushing his face closer as I bucked my hips, sudden confidence making me hint at what I wanted.
"Goddamn, Tweek," Craig breathed between our feverish kisses, "You're so fucking adorable, did you know that?"
I cried out as his fingers spread on my chest, accidentally biting down on his tongue. He flinched, but before I could let apologies flow, his lips moved slower, his hands traveling down toward our erections. I held onto his shoulders when he moved his lips to my ear, licking the sensitive skin just below it while he cupped a hand over my dick.
"Oh Jesus," I squealed, squirming awkwardly and blushing. "C-Craig, what're you doing? Ngh, wh—"
He pulled back to lock gazes with me. "Do you not want it anymore, Tweek?" he began lowly. "I can stop…" he finished, seeming slightly deflated.
"AUGH, no! Of-of course I do!" I protested quickly, feeling stupid and rude. "I'm not, ngh, ungrateful or anything! It's just, um—!" What was I doing? I wanted this—Craig wanted it, too—so why was I scrambling for excuses I didn't want to come up with? Who said we were even going all the way? Oh my god, if he wanted inside me, I don't know what I'd do! I'd fantasized before, naturally, being only human, but there was no way I could imagine the beautiful raven-haired boy above me wanting me that badly! If he wanted me… like that, my heart would explode! I DON'T WANT MY HEART TO EXPLODE!
I was so distraught by my self-conscious thoughts that I didn't notice he was leaving hickeys on my neck and collarbone. By the time I was aware of his mouth, however, his hard had begun to massage my hard-on. A squeal escaped from between my lips before I clamped my teeth into the bottom one, my unstable shaking getting worse as my head raced with energy and panic. My heart threw itself violently against my ribcage, and heat coursed throughout my body as I pressed pleadingly into his hand. A bizarre, unfamiliar excitement gave me the courage to reach one of my trembling hands down the length of his toned body to find the bulge in his jeans. My breath hitched in time with his as I timidly pressed my fingers to the denim between his erection and me. Craig lifted slightly from me to make room for my shy but eager touch, though the absence of his warmth was felt instantly. I found myself whimpering and tugging on his clothes to convince him back to me. His lips moved along my jaw line as he came closer again.
"C-Craig," I managed to say, despite my growing delirium. "Can I, ngh, could I kiss you?" I whispered shyly, my fingers playing nervously with the cloth of his hoodie. I had to swallow a yelp when he brought his unfairly sexy face to mine, unerring blue eyes staring half-lidded into my bewildered green. "Hrgck," I choked anxiously, the air caught in my throat finally releasing.
"Don't ask," he commanded softly, the hand on my boner massaging me gently as he feathered kisses over my eyelids. The combination made me flush deeper. "You can always just take," he suggested before meeting my lips with his again, hungry and delicious. "And you should."
My hand twitched severely, making not only half my body jerk awkwardly into his, but making me squeeze him pretty hard. He groaned, and his tongue came to meet mine before I could try again to apologize. Suddenly I was grabbing at his dark, silky hair, taking the plunge despite my inexperience and rubbing his package the way he did mine. He responded by leaning down against me more and using the arm he had been using to support himself now to lift my face higher and lace his long fingers in my tangled frizz.
A jolt of excitement I'd never felt before made me moan into my boyfriend's mouth. (Boyfriend!) It came out more like a whimpered moan, as if he'd kicked a cute kitten in front of me, but apparently this didn't bother Craig, since he chuckled lowly in his throat and massaged more firmly. I had no idea if I was even coming close to making him feel as good as he was making me feel. Jesus, what if I really wasn't good at this at all, and he was just being nice and humoring me? Shit, man! I had to make him feel good! He already made me so happy, and now he was doing this for me – I had to give him something back, right? He didn't have to tell me for me to know I was a clumsy, inexperienced virgin. Oh god, Craig wasn't a virgin, was he?
Trying not to let feelings of pathetic self-consciousness overtake me, I leaned up into the raven-haired boy, kissing him harder and trembling more with uncertainty. Craig seemed a bit surprised at this movement, but returned the kiss with the same urgency as he eased a hand to my lower back to help me sit up, nibbling lightly on my abused lip. Another whimpering moan escaped me, and I steeled my nerves as I dipped my fingers into his boxers and reluctantly pulled out his dick. Craig flinched at the cool air, and pulled slightly away, leaving me to bite my lip and twitch slightly.
"Tweek," he began quietly, the hand on my erection slowly to a steady kneading, making me flush deeper and whine. "You don't hafta do that," he assured me with a faint smirk, his other hand reaching down toward mine. But I saw a flash of something, his eyes looking hungrily back at me. He wanted me to, but he... he didn't want me to feel... obligated? My cheeks colored again as his fingers touched mine, about to gently pry them away from his hard-on.
Yelping, I grabbed the front of his sweatshirt and yanked him toward myself again, narrowly avoiding a cartilage collision as I attacked his lips with mine, inviting his tongue with a prodding of my own. Craig started at this as well, letting go of my hand and putting his on the seat-back next to me to keep us from falling over. After returning the kiss deeply – I had distracted him for the moment – I carefully stroked his entire length, still quivering anxiously. Please let this be good, please let me be good, please let me be good, I pleaded in my head, groaning. "I—" came my voice after a few seconds, in between eager kisses. "I want to," I promised him with a crimson face, smiling shyly as I did my best to work his stiffened flesh.
His hastened breath against my mouth made me shudder again. "Tweek, fuck," he groaned lowly, moving a hand to my waist and urging me closer. "Tweek, you're amazing," he praised gratefully (gratefully!), unzipping my jeans in the process. A violent twitch accompanied my squeal at the chill, and I accidentally gripped him harshly. Again. But Craig only flinched a little, beginning to pump me easily. "I love you, Tweekers," he murmured as he ran his hand up my back and neck, curling fingers into my hair again as he moved his lips across my jaw. I loved when he did that. My eyelids fluttered shut, and I had to concentrate on stroking him as he did the same to me and sucked tenderly on my throat. Automatically, my head fell back to grant him more access, and I chomped down on my lip to bite back a cry; his thumb was teasing the head of my cock, and every so often he'd run his thumbnail through the slit, making bolts of pleasure pulse through me. I tried to mimic each action, to induce the same feeling in my hero, and was extremely relieved to feel and hear hums and groans of approval on my neck and shoulders as he tugged slightly on my shirt to ravish them with his mouth.
"Ngh, C-Craig," I whimpered as I felt my body tense, near the edge. "I'm gonna…" I began, embarrassed, gnawing on my bottom lip again when his hand snaked under my waistline. Breathless, I tried to continue pumping him as he shamelessly groped my ass.
Returning his lips to mine for a brief moment, he leaned to my ear, working me faster. "Cum for me, Tweekers," he murmured, smirking as he pulled back enough to meet my lustful green eyes with mischievous azure. Any other time, I would have worried about that devious glint, but luckily for me I was almost instantaneously pushed to my limit.
"Oh my god, hah, Craig!" I cried as I released in his hand, panting and flushing crimson. Craig gave a low groan and kissed me hard; warmth spilled in my hand as his tongue invaded my mouth. The dark-haired boy prolonged his strokes through my orgasm, other fingers moving up to tangle in my hair. I'd never tried that before – I certainly hadn't gotten it from someone else, either – and it felt so amazing that I couldn't help but whimper as I returned the favor with my own, unsteady hand.
After a few long moments filled with only the sound of our heavy, offbeat breathing, our foreheads resting against each other, Craig reached over to the glove compartment and pulled out a small pack of tissues. Blushing, I took a few as he did, squeaking shyly as he gently cleaned me up. It took effort not to think about ridiculous reasons for my boyfriend having such conveniently located tissues. Trembling, I carefully wiped him clean, too, feeling terribly warm despite a distant anxiety of having contracted AIDS on my hand. Not that I thought Craig had AIDS! But you could get AIDS from sex, right? Even though that wasn't really sex, it's in jizz, right? Jesus, I needed to calm down, and fast!
Thankfully Craig distracted me by zipping my pants up and bringing his hands to mine to zip himself up with my slightly dazed assistance. After throwing the used tissues into a plastic grocery bag he'd been using as a trash, Craig smirked, wrapping his long, strong arms around me and pulling me closer. Gripping at his chest, I smiled demurely, too apprehensive to meet his gaze again just yet. Another squeak escaped me when he took my chin, bringing my face upward and making me gape. There was a soft pink to his cheeks – a flush from orgasm – and he looked even more divinely handsome and impossible.
"That was brilliant, Tweek," Craig praised quietly, kissing my forehead sweetly. "Thank you," he whispered.
"I, ngh, I've never felt that good before," I confessed in a small voice, nuzzling my face into his neck, my skin hotter than before. Aside from hearing him say 'I love you'and kissing me the first time, I was completely honest. I guess I meant it was the best physical feeling I'd ever had before. It took concentration not to explain this concern of distinction to my black-haired lover. (Lover!)"It was, ngh, wonderful, Craig…"
Squealing automatically with anxiety, I pulled back and stared with wide eyes at him, slightly startled by his knowing grin. "OH JESUS," I strained, my eyelid twitching. "You're grinning again—AUGH!—Craig!" I wailed disdainfully.
"That's three times," he pointed out, resting his forehead on mine again, chuckling.
"Jesus Christ, man!" I yelped, my hold on the front of his sweatshirt tightening in anticipation. "What're you even talking about?"
"My name. You didn't stutter," he answered in quiet triumph, setting his lips on mine and making me melt for the millionth time. "I'm so proud of you," he chuckled.
Holy shit. Holy SHIT! He was right! A happy, relieved smile found its way onto my face, and I felt a little… stronger? "I… I didn't," I agreed, a weird lightness creeping into my chest. It made me shiver harder as I vaguely recognized it as giddiness. Craig gently pressed a tender kiss to my lips again, his arms pulling me into a full embrace. "Craig," I said experimentally. "Craig, Craig, CraigCraigCraig."
He chuckled, resting his head atop mine. "I love you, Tweek."
"I, ngh, love you, too, Craig," I half-giggled in response, for once feeling a little bit… proud of myself.
"He really is a looker. Good catch, kid."
"JESUS CHRIST!" I shrieked, startled into jumping back to shut the door at the sound of a certain Underpants Gnome's voice and clapping a hand over my mouth. Other hand over my already frantic heart, I glared grudgingly at the gnome. "What're you doing here?" I hissed anxiously, lowering my voice for fear of waking my parents, glancing hastily about the room for any other sign of more friendly briefs-thieves. Deciding they were busy stealing someone else's underwear, I frowned at the tiny blonde man, who only grinned. Tugging on the hem of my sweater – having left Craig's coat on the coat-rack downstairs – I dared to ask, "Hngh, were you watching us?"
"Not the whole time," Dato chuckled, smirking.
Squealing anxiously, I grimaced, grabbing a pad of sticky notes and chucking them at the gnome. My aim sucked, but he dove out of the way anyway. "Pervert!" I scolded, my face undoubtedly scarlet. "That's, ngh, gross!"
"Do you think you're gross, Tweek?" Dato asked, more serious now, straightening out his little pointy cap.
I opened my mouth to answer, but had nothing to offer, so I shut it again, disoriented. That was an odd question. He was trying to divert my attention! Shuffling awkwardly, I looked behind me at the locked door and twitched as I went to my dresser. Okay, so no one else was getting in. Didn't mean he didn't have gnome spies under my bed! But… Did I think of myself as gross? I had before, so, maybe I still did. Most likely. Christ, I fretted enough over how Craig could want to touch me, it only made sense that I still thought I was gross…
"Do you think Craig's gross?" Dato pressed when I didn't respond.
Snapping my head in the tiny man's direction, I wrinkled my nose in distaste, aghast at the very suggestion. "Craig is gorgeous!" I argued defensively. "I—I'm so lucky, erk," I added quieter, biting my lip and looking away again. I rifled absentmindedly through my drawers.
"You don't understand why he likes you," the man said simply. After a moment, I gave up and nodded, pulling out a set of pajamas without really thinking about it. The little man sighed. "You are one ridiculous, paranoid kid."
I gave him a skeptical look, to which he shrugged, smiling slightly as if he knew something I didn't. This made me wince. "It's not, ngh, like I can help it," I muttered awkwardly. "Don't look," I instructed Dato sternly, holding my flannel pj's to my chest and glaring suspiciously. When he turned away, I hastily tugged my sweater off over my head and began to undress.
"I'm just stating the obvious, I guess," he sighed. "But you shouldn't worry. Trust me, if this kid didn't think you were hot, he wouldn't have been so quick to jack you off."
"Dato!" I yelped, nearly stumbling in my attempt to put on the pants I had in my hands. Righting myself, I quickly finished with that article of clothing, frowning at the gnome's back. "Craig isn't that, ngh, that shallow!" I protested. But I couldn't be sure, could I? I mean, I knew about every girlfriend he'd had, but just because they were all beautiful didn't… mean… No! It didn't automatically make him shallow! I was trying very hard not to start panicking. "Oh my god!" I strained, gripping at my hair, my flannel shirt still unbuttoned. "What if I'm not pretty enough for Craig?"
"'Pretty enough,' Tweek?" Dato echoed bemusedly, turning back slightly.
"Relax, kid. I – I didn't mean it like that," the gnome hastily assured me, rolling his eyes. "I only meant that he's definitely into you, alright? Don't pitch a bloody fit."
"Hngh," I grunted weakly. "You're trying to give me doubts about him!" I accused sadly, chewing my lip.
"Y'know, it's too bad he's not here to button you up properly," Dato commented offhandedly, wearing a snarky grin. He eyed me as I was successfully deterred, attempting to close up my shirt. Wincing, my fingers fumbled faster as another blush lit my face.
Going over to my bed, I warily watched the friendly gnome climb up to my pillow. "Um, did you need something?" I questioned, unsure.
"Good night, kid," the little man chuckled, messing up a tiny area of my hair and hopping off the mattress. Confused, I watched him slip out of the cracked open door and disappear with a short wave over his shoulder. Immediately after he was gone, I scrambled out of bed to shut and lock the door, wondering when the hell it opened again and pushing back more worries of planted bombs in my room.
Snuggling under my covers, I shut my eyes and slept through the night. A distant dream of a knight in shining silver armor with striking blue eyes made me smile just before my subconscious dominated. It was much warmer under my thin sheets with this hero in mind.
"JESUS CHRIST!" I yelped, startled awake, nearly falling off my bed due to having already rolled toward the edge overnight. Twitching with a wince, I gripped at my bed sheets and brought them up to my chin. "W-what?" I called back nervously, realizing it had only been my mother. "Is something, ngh, wrong? Oh god, is the house on f—?"
Bursting into the room, making me shriek and launch voluntarily off my bed this time, my mother locked gazes with me as I peeked over the top of my mattress at her. She seemed confused and suspicious, and I flinched at the look in her eye. "There's a boy here for you, Tweek. A 'Craig,' I believe," she informed me tersely, her tone indicating that she disapproved and didn't trust somebody, though I couldn't tell if the tone was for Craig or me. This was surely not a good sign.
"Sweet Jesus," I squealed, an uneasy shiver shooting up my spine. "Hnn, really? What'd you do?"
"Yes, 'really,' and I let him in."
"Hey, Tweek," Craig said casually from behind my mom, his hair obviously messy under his hat, shadowing his eyes more than usual and making him look even more gorgeous than I remembered from last night.
Then I remembered last night.
"Oh my GOD!" I wailed, clutching my covers and standing up clumsily as I blushed furiously. "What, ngh, are you doing here so early, ngh, Craig?" My voice was climbing in pitch as my heart raced. Craig was in my room! We did things last night! I was only in pajamas! Craig was in my room! My mom was just standing there, looking doubtful of the entire situation, and did I mention that Craig was in my room?
"Early?" he echoed, an eyebrow raising in amused question. "It's almost noon, dude," the handsome boy chuckled.
"Hrgck!" I choked, astounded. "I never sleep until—ACK!—noon!"
"You never sleep," mom pointed out wearily, sighing as she turned to take her leave. "Don't get into trouble while we're at work, Tweek, or Baba Yaga might come collect you tonight," she warned, closing my bedroom door behind herself while I whimpered as the image of a fat, witchy old lady with an empty potato sack over her shoulder and an enticing offer of Milky Ways appeared in my head.
As soon as my mother's footsteps faded downstairs, Craig moved to my bed, giving her exit a highly skeptical, distrusting glance. "Christ, what's her problem?" he mumbled disbelievingly, sitting on the edge of my mattress as I climbed back onto it, placing myself in the center – the safest, sturdiest place to be. Gently, he took one of my hands in his, scooting closer.
"Craig," I whined, squeezing his fingers fretfully. "I don't wanna be kidnapped by an, ngh, old cannibalistic lady!"
Chuckling, he gently stroked my hair, swiping bangs from my eyes. "Are you Russian?"
Brow furrowed in confusion, I felt my eyelid quiver on its own. "Hngh, what does that have to do with—?"
"Baba Yaga is a Russian fairy tale," Craig elaborated, and I nodded, having known this. "Well, are you Russian?" he implored.
"I…" I had to think about this, biting my lip and frowning. Craig is on my bed, he's on my bed and holding my hand, and it's the hand that touched me last night! Jesus Christ! "I don't, erk, think so," I responded eventually.
"Then there's nothing to worry about," my boyfriend stated, smirking again. Upon seeing my dubious expression, the ebony-haired teen leaned in. "Not only is Baba Yaga a fairy tale, but she only kidnaps and eats Russian kids," he reasoned, tousling my hair and making me blush. "Nothing to worry about. Besides, aren't you a little old for her tastes? She's supposed to be into, like, eight-year old kids, right?" He chuckled, leaning into me again. "See? Don't worry about what your mom says. She's just worried we'll elope," Craig teased.
I didn't fully register the eloping joke, but he was making sense otherwise, so I let my paranoid brain place that concern aside for the moment, moving instead to Craig being in my room (on my bed, no less) again. Eyes wide, I stared at him as if he had suddenly dropped from the sky and appeared out of nowhere next to me. "You—GAH!" I began, faltering at once and flushing more vibrantly.
"You still wanna hang out, yeah?" he asked, as if he knew I had somehow forgotten and couldn't form words just yet wither way. "No second thoughts?" he teased wryly, which brought me to finally register his elopement tease from before.
I colored crimson, deeper than I already was, and gaped at him. "We can't get married!" I blurted. "It's illegal in Colorado, ngh, and I'm not even eighteen yet, ngh, and you—AUGH!—you're too hot for a freak like me!"
Craig frowned, gaze narrowed as he pulled back, hand pausing in my hair. I whimpered at my own selfish stupidity. Why would I think he wanted to get married? He was making little jokes, teasing – it was what normal people did! Only a stupid, fucked up brain like mine could get actual marriage out of that! I was about to yank on my hair when my hero took my wrists preemptively and stopped me before I could even try.
"Tweek," he began uncertainly. "What the hell?"
"No, I-I just—" I tried weakly, trembling violently, scared he'd think I was too clingy or something and dump me for it. We hadn't even been dating twenty-four hours! Or—had we? "Too… much…" I strained, but he cut me off with a kiss, his lips gentle and soothing. I calmed quickly, but didn't stop worrying, letting him lay me back slowly and lay over me in turn. When he pulled away, I watched him anxiously, gnawing my lip harshly.
"You get so much out of so little," he pointed out, an eyebrow risen in interest. I squeaked. "I like that about you," he murmured, smirking and kissing my cheek sweetly. "But you've gotta chill out. Don't need you having a heart attack, okay?" he said, serious. I nodded obediently, and he released my wrists, bringing one of his hands to my face and cupping it as he just… stared at me. "Was last night okay?" he asked, startling me slightly. I tilted my head tentatively, and he let out a small, defeated breath. "I upset you," he seemed to decide, pulling back and off of me, suddenly abolishing any contact between us and sending my heart into a small panic. "I'm sorry..."
"I—no!" I protested, sitting bolt upright and grabbing his sleeve when he turned away, about to stand up. "No, ngh, not at all! I didn't mean to seem, ngh, ungrateful, Craig!" I pleaded fearfully. "Don't… don't leave," I begged quietly, hanging my head slightly, embarrassed. "Last night was really nice," I murmured shyly. "I really liked what we, hngh, we did. I wanna hang out, ngh, please?"
There were a few moments of silence that built the tension in my gut, and I knew I was going to cry any second if he didn't just turn around and hold me. Or look at me. Or kiss me. I wasn't picky! I just needed him to reassure my paranoid mind that he didn't think he'd done anything wrong, or, or, that… I didn't even know, I just knew I didn't want him to go.
"You liked it?" he asked, turning his head slightly to glance back at me. I nodded vigorously, chomping into my lower lip. Craig lifted his arm back and gently ran his long fingers through my hair again, and I sighed with relief, shuddering delightedly at this touch. Was it normal to like people petting your hair? "I'm glad," he murmured, turning back to me and pulling gently on the back of my neck as he leaned over to kiss me. I reached blindly for him, grasping his shoulders as he turned to come back further onto the bed and prod my lips with his hot tongue, requesting entrance. I gladly gave it. "Wanna know a secret?" he whispered as he lowered me onto my back again, smirking with a renewed energy. I was so glad he wasn't doubtful that I didn't even notice that I desperately needed a breath until he pulled away again.
"What?" I asked appropriately, my voice tiny and curious, slightly nervous.
"I'm still afraid of hurting you. And all I want to do is make you feel good," he answered, kissing my forehead and lingering there before he returned to my mouth, making my squeak in the process, flattered and shy.
"That's, ngh, that's two things," I pointed out with a small smile between his kisses.
Craig chuckled. "Yeah. It is," he agreed with amusement. Pushing himself up a bit, he smiled at me. "Get dressed, and we can screw around town or something, get you some coffee," he suggested, standing up to let me up entirely. As I set my feet on the floor, shyly avoiding his gaze, I brightened slightly at the mention of my lifeblood. "Should I leave so you can change, Tweekers?" he asked.
Swallowing my mildly surprised gasp, I quickly met his sapphire eyes, momentarily distracted by the blue. "You don't hafta, ngh, go anywhere," I protested sheepishly after deciding he wasn't being sarcastic. "I… I don't mind if you're there," I half-lied, my face on fire. It was only a half-lie because I was more than just modest – I was ashamed. But I didn't necessarily think Craig was going to stare lecherously. Though a small, hopeful and confident part of me kind-of wanted him to at least peek. It would mean he liked my body at least a little, right? That was important in a relationship, right? Oh god, we're in a relationship! I didn't realize I was making strange little noises until I met Craig's eyes from where I was standing, habitually rifling through my drawers. "GAH!" I yelped, flinging a shirt into the air. It landed at my feet, and I twitched under his gaze.
"Hopeless," he reminded me with a smirk, stepping over to me and picking up the shirt. "Take it off," he instructed flatly. Squealing, I blushed and immediately obeyed, shakily undoing the buttons of my flannel shirt. Craig straightened and rolled his eyes, poking at my hands to make them snap to my sides so he could do it himself. I fidgeted slightly, embarrassed and happy, and he quickly undressed me, bending down to briefly brush his lips over the nape of my neck and shoulder, running his hands down my sides before suddenly slipping my arms into the sleeves of my slightly too-big shirt. The sensations made me shiver, and I winced at the loss of them, making Craig chuckle as he ruffled my hair. "I think I'll let you do your pants," he informed me, turning and leaning against the door. "I might get carried away," he murmured with a faint smile, his eyes giving me a fond appraising. At least, I hoped it was appraising. I could only nod and blush, quickly changing into jeans.
"Heeeeey!" Kenny greeted with an enormous grin, leaning over the counter and beckoning us over. "Drinks? On the house, of course," he chuckled, turning and starting up coffee machines and the steamer without further ado.
I gave Craig an uncertain look, and he smirked, shrugging. I didn't know dad had let the perverted blonde start working so early. "What're your, ngh, hours, Kenny?" I asked carefully, smiling shyly. An encouraging squeeze to my hand made me smile a little bigger, and by chance, the blonde in question glanced back to see it.
Gasping dramatically, he made a point to drop the empty metal coffee tin in his hand and slap both hands to his cheeks, looking an awful lot like a certain Edvard Munch painting – only much more gleeful than tragic or terrified. This made me jerk back with nervous hesitation. He laughed, and I could practically hear Craig roll his eyes. "I just love it when you smile, Tweeky!" Kenny sighed happily, leaning on the counter again and resting his chin in his palm dreamily. "You're adorable. You must accept this and use it to your own advantage, Tweek," he informed me with a devious smirk, winking and glancing meaningfully to the dark-haired boy at my side.
"You suck at subtlety, dude," Craig stated bluntly, giving the other blue-eyed boy a flat look.
"Wasn't in the game plan, Craiggers," Kenny chuckled.
"Craiggers?" he echoed skeptically, shoulders drooping wearily. I twitched. Was I missing something? They were really close, weren't they? When did that happen?
"Like 'Tweekers,'" the advice-giver elaborated, grinning mischievously. "Only for you."
"That's not all that original, asshole," Craig sighed, rolling his eyes and flipping the boy behind the counter off.
Kenny chuckled, returning to the coffee machines and adding hazelnut syrup to two cups. "Well, you have to admit that neither is 'Tweekers' or 'Tweeky,' Craiggers…"
"You clean up well," Craig complimented, raising an eyebrow and nodding once in approval. "That parka's old as shit, dude. You need to get rid of that thing."
Kenny pouted, and I shuffled awkwardly. Did I ever make that face? It was cute. But Kenny was way hotter than me… though apparently Craig didn't mind… "Dude. That's my childhood you're talking about!" the lanky boy argued defensively.
"Which doesn't fit," Craig pointed out dully. "And I highly doubt that thing keeps you warm anymore. The down's flat. It's been flat forever."
As Craig and Kenny got into a little argument over the blonde's trademark jacket, I grateful took an offered coffee and sipped on it slowly, unconsciously leaning on my boyfriend's arm and quivering as the caffeine hit my needy system. I was still a little bit drunk on the happy and pleasure from Craig's touch the previous night, and a blush lit my cheeks as I thought about touching him, having him say he loved me as I came, making him feel good… Even only minutes ago when he said he wanted to make me happy, that he didn't want to hurt me… I was so happy in my reminiscing that I didn't notice Craig and Kenny had stopped talking and were only staring at me.
"Dude. What did you do to him?" came Kenny's voice, suddenly much louder than I thought it had been. It wasn't, of course, but it drew me from my fantasies with a thunderous volume. OH GOD, THUNDER.
"What d'you mean?" Craig asked coolly, smirking and kissing the top of my head affectionately.
"That was a blissed-out look, dude. I'm not stupid. I've been around, remember?" Kenny said, rolling his eyes and smirking at me after sticking his tongue out at my hero. I blushed brightly, eyes wide. I'd been caught! Oh Jesus! "You guys fuck yet?" he asked point blank.
"Oh god, that is WAY too much PRESSURE!" I wailed, about to wrench on my hair and drop my coffee. Craig held my hand where it was, and Kenny was quick enough to grab my coffee cup just under my hand, saving it from dropping and splattering all over the floor. "Hrgck," I choked shamefully, the pink in my cheeks turning to scarlet.
"No, asshole," Craig hissed, glaring pointedly and earning us a sheepish, apologetic grin from the poor boy. "And it's none of your goddamned business." I squeaked.
"Oh. I see. Second base, then," Kenny said quickly, eyes glinting mischievously again.
"Shut the fuck up, McCormick!"
I was left to giggle and fidget awkwardly – but not unhappily – as my boyfriend chased our friend around Harbucks, the two smirking dangerously or laughing hysterically with an impish grin. I felt myself smiling again, and didn't try to hide it or give myself excuses for it. Craig gave me one of his faint smiles as he passed, lobbing a half-eaten crescent left on somebody's table at the blonde, who ducked and laughed harder.
"I'll see you tomorrow, okay, Tweek?" Craig said as he kissed me on my doorstep. It wasn't dark out yet, but he had let me know earlier that his mother wanted help stripping his dad's stuff out of her bedroom. I didn't want him to leave his mother – she needed him a lot now – so I insisted that he go back by four. He'd be leaving me with at least two hickeys from our visit to Stark's Pond, so I didn't feel left behind. I didn't know anything about relationships, really, but Craig was making me feel like I didn't have to worry about it at all.
"ACK!" I yelped when he suddenly got down on one knee. I was struck with panic about marriage again, but thankfully, he stilled my rapid heartbeat by taking one of my hands and gently kissing the knuckles. "Craig?" I questioned in a small voice, confused and flattered.
"Don't forget that you're my king, Tweekers," he murmured, looking up at me with that fond, faint smile. "I love you."
Summoning all my bravery and confidence, I bent and kissed his forehead as he had so many times with me, smiling carefully. "I love you, too, Craig… my knight in shining armor…"
Craig smirked, and I couldn't help my blush.
I loved that smirk.