Drugs, language, perverts, and vulgarity :D

Chapter One

"You're inviting us to Kyle's little brother's twelfth birthday party?" Token asked, clearly perturbed. Kenny sat, nodding away with his butt on our tabletop. I shuffled my finger through Clyde's unsalted fries, waiting for him to notice so I'd have something else to listen to besides Kenny's ridiculous offer. "Kyle's aware that we're all five or so years older than Ike, right? And that none of us are friends?"

"You're buddies with me, aren't you?" The blonde asked, leaning back to wind an arm around Token's shoulders, effectively tugging my friend's face against his chest before finishing with a mischievous, "That's all that matters."

"Kyle doesn't even know your asking us, does he?" Token guessed, allowing himself to be maneuvered like a rag doll with his cheek pressed taut against Kenny's flat torso. It scrunched up his face to the point where it looked relatively funny.

"Nope. And Kyle definitely doesn't need to know that I've been spreading word around the entire school. So let's keep it a secret between us bros, yeah?"

"I highly doubt I'll be able to make it to the Broflovski household. I've got work to do." Three heads turned to look at me. "Cleaning Stripe's cage is serious shit, man," I explained, just about to go into detail about how it's not just cleaning every nook and cranny for my guinea pig's sanitation, but also refurbishing his entire living quarters (house dome, hallway tube, favorite chewing block, the usual) for his comfort and possibly viewing pleasure because if he can't have pretty pictures or wallpaper like a human then he might as well have sparkly clean plastic and yummy aspen wood strips.

"This isn't a family oriented occasion it's—"

"A get together full of the same morons I go to school with and some Canadian twelve year old that's Jewish. Yeah, still not working out for me."

"A party at a skating rink," Kenny finished without me. "I will provide the weed if you can provide your bodies." He paused, pursing his lips together before fixing his statement. "I didn't mean that sexually, I swear—and that was a complete lie. As much as I'd like each one of your bodies, if you could just show up that'd be great." But Token and I had already locked eyes at 'skating rink' and had gone through a mental connection of best friend-telepathy where we agreed briefly that, yes, this was a party we could make it to.

"We'll be there." Token said, patting Kenny on the leg before making to move his head away. The blonde let him go easily.

"What? I thought we weren't going to go!" Clyde whined, slapping my hand out of his fries. As Kenny got up, I wiped my greasy finger on the hem of his jacket.

"You're just being a baby because you can't skate," I told him as I turned to face the blonde. "Keep your end of the deal—"

"And you'll give me your body?" The blonde suggested, winking in the most obvious fashion: mouth agape, left eye scrunched up tight, head tilted to the side.

"Not quite." Then I winked in a much more suave, always-gets-the-ladies-jizzing-in-their-pants sort of way and added, "I might let you give me a big ol' smooch, though." He laughed in that charismatic tone of his, the one that always sounded genuinely pleased.

"Don't be saying that unless you meant it. You know teasing me with your kisses just ain't fair."

"Yeah, supposedly I kiss like a God."

"A Peruvian God." Kenny grinned in a way that was even more charismatic than his laugh, and it was something only he was good at. My smirk always came out crooked because I guess I just never learned how to do one straight.

"Shut up with the Peru shit and get the fuck out of here," I ordered.

"Alright, but—" as he spoke, he sauntered away in a backwards walk, hands in his pockets and a bounce to his step, "—I'm holding up my end of the bargain. You better do the same."

"I'll set aside some quality bro-time, alright?" I offered, using my imaginative hands—I was too lazy to use my real ones—to shoo him away so that lunch would end quicker and Token and I could skip our next period to converse about whats-his-name's party. "Bathroom or my car or back of the building, whatever, your choice."

"Party's after school. I'm expecting a ride from you since we'll be hotboxing your car. Oh, by the way," his grin turned shit-eating, "Tweek'll be with me." My stomach flip-flopped, which certainly wasn't alright with me.

"Dude." Clyde whispered, touching his chin to my shoulder. I tensed up in what had to be noticeable, but my best friend was too much of an idiot to catch my unease because his question was, "Are you guys sucking each other's dicks?" Even though Clyde was distracted by my and the blonde's play-date, I knew that that last spoken detail of Kenny's hadn't gone unnoticed by Token.

What I thought was going to be a serious let's-talk-business-about-skating meet-up during our ditch next hour was most definitely going to end up being more like a the-fuck-brah-explain-yourself questionnaire.

"Fuck no," I clarifie, attempting to relay the same answer to Token. He was giving me a skeptic look, though. "Hurry up and eat your fries, you little fatty."

"Yeah, it's cool. Tell me I suck at skating and then call me fat."

"I said you can't skate at all. There's a difference because one's worse than the other and you're the latter." Clyde's carton of fries was warm and slightly soggy against my skin when he smashed them straight into my face. "I swear to God if I get acne because of this I'm going to beat the shit out of you so hard that you're going to cry to your mom over the phone while I have Stripe piss in your face." Clyde knew this was no bluff because Craig Motherfucking Tucker was always dead motherfucking serious.

The bell rang ten minutes ago. I was in my car with Clyde sitting shotgun and Token occupying the rear right seat. If Kenny didn't show up soon, I decided that I'd have Clyde fish out the blunt hiding incognito in my glove compartment and we'd hotbox by ourselves. Our three-man wolf pack.

I smirked bitterly because those two stupid blondes still haven't shown up and I've diverted to plucking at the seams on my jeans.

Token had named my car Black Betty when I first bought her two years ago. The three of us even created a story and, let me tell you, it was some pretty high quality shit about our adventure in buying her. Typed that baby up and even thought about sending it in to a publisher just for shits and giggles. But then we decided it was a pretty sacred legend that only rouge wolves should hear about. It's been sleeping underneath my bed, caught between two mattresses ever since.

I knew it went a little something like, A wolf pack of three: one sexy ass motherfucker of an Alpha; a sleek, black-coated mafia boss; and that other wolf, you know the one, he's always there, creeping in the backgroundwell, you see, they set off an a journey. One that only grizzly bears and silver backed gorillas took. And everyone knows that grizzlies and silver backs are the fucking shit.

Then there was something about fighting off a flock of starved vultures that had just found a mass grave of road kill but we were hungry too so we turned them into road kill and just ate everything, sleeping on the highway, ransacking doghouses, ransacking previously angry-after-being-ransacked dog owner's houses, and having a night out with the pampered female of the Marsh estate because he was the only guy we could think of who had a sister.

Clyde's wolf character was actually supposed to be described as a 'measly piece of a turd that was more like two hundred pounds of dead weight' courtesy of me, but he acted like a pussy until he got his way. That's when he became that one wolf, 'you know the one'.

Black Betty was a female because Clyde was a bitch and bitched until he got his way again. Her first name was Black because Token's black. I didn't get to have a say in the gender or name of my car because my two best friends are assholes. I did really like the song Black Betty though, by Ram Jam.

Probably because it had something to do with how She really gets me high, bam-ba-lam. But if anything it was because She's shakin' that thing, bam-ba-lam.

That song described my car to a T. She was black (I'd forever bag on Token for being a perfect mate candidate for her), a convertible, and smelled like cigarettes and weed. All of that probably had nothing to do with the song but in my head it did.

"That kid is so fucking weird, dude." I didn't even have to lift my eyes and look out the window to know who he was talking about. Token didn't either. Nobody ever did. "He's doe eyed, pigeon toed, and bow legged, dude."

"And you scarf down so many calories a girl would only have to watch you eat to feel the need to barf up her dinner, so shut up." Clyde stared at me slack jawed and awe eyed, which would have been a beautiful rebuttal but my mind was elsewhere, specifically entranced by a certain blonde kid who had a caught-in-headlights look to his eyes, feet that had a tendency to point inward when he walked, and twig-limbs with a natural curve that gave them a little bit more to look at than your regular pair of legs.

I really needed to stop thinking like, right now.

"Sorry for being fashionably late," Kenny apologized. It's been awhile since I've heard that one. "We had to change our clothes," the two of them were adorning their gym clothes: shorts and grey shirts, "and Tweekers here needed to sneak into the teacher's lounge like a BAMF and rejuvenate by refilling his cup of coffee." I ignored the want to acknowledge either of them, specifically the fidgety one who looked about ready to keel over.

"Sit wherever," I said.

"I love the hospitality that just wafts off of you in a great waves, Craig. Really, I do." Kenny popped open the door from the inside since my convertible was converted and maybe, quite possibly, I'd fucked up the outside handle one night when I was drunk. "Here," he motioned toward Tweek and told him to get in first with some pretty snazzy hand signals. "The middle is the safest seat."

"What's up, Tweek? I'll hold your coffee while you get buckled up, alright?" Token was being his awesome, considerate self. I couldn't help but think that part of the reason he was doing so was due to the beans I'd spilt (in the most undescriptive, uninformative, unobvious way possible) in the hour after lunch when we were supposed to be chatting about skating. Kenny popped open the trunk to put his and Tweek's actual clothes in the safe zone, preferably where it wouldn't get hotboxed, before he flopped his skinny butt inside Black Betty.

That sounded completely gross yet mildly humorous.

Pounding on the rolled up hood of the car, he called, "Hurry and close this baby up, Tucker. We're gunna hotbox the shit out of your girl." The pervert in the back was one of the select few rouges that got to read the Black Betty Adventure booklet, even went as far as to make a guest appearance in the revised version of BBA as the pimp daddy who owned the Marsh's daughter. He ended up selling her out to us for 'five dolla' in what later became the revision of the revised version.

Because Tweek wasn't the only BAMF here, and just maybe I wanted to pretend like we were on the same wave length or something like that, I multitasked the hell out Black Betty by igniting her up, putting her into gear so I could get her rolling, and replaced her hood. All in all, it wasn't impressive in the slightest. I was just a big idiot.

"Can I hit it first?" Clyde piped up, already reaching an arm out so he could retrieve Kenny's drugs.

"Stop being selfish." I said, taking a moment to make sure all of the windows were rolled up and secure as I left the school.

"You're the reason why I want to get blazed as quick as I can, asshole. You're being extra douchey today."

My comeback rounded on him faster than you could blink. "You're being extra bitchy today."

"Wait—whats going on?" Tweek asked, voice overflowing with confusion and alarm. I glanced back at him in my rear view mirror in what I hoped was just to make sure he wasn't dying or hyperventilating, but no, I had definitely taken a moment to glance at his lithe, little legs. "What's a hotbox? This isn't some portable, giant oven is it? I'm not going to die, right? Dude, I'm too young to die!" He squeaked, and twitched, and sputtered out one of his trademark 'nggh's.

"No worries, Tweek. We're just getting high," Kenny informed. Clyde's arm came back around with a blunt and lighter in his hand. He readied one end of the blunt against his mouth before bringing up the lighter to make the cherry come alive.

"Oh... oh... a hotbox. Where all the smoke stays in the car and I'm inevitably going to get fucked up?"


"Shit, man. How could you do this to me? I'm already fucked up enough as it is!" The brunette to my right let out a puff of smoke and faked his laughter with coughs. Perhaps Tweek wouldn't notice but I knew well enough that Clyde could hold his marijuana perfectly fine. My fist shot out faster than my previous comeback had. I socked him as hard as I could in the shoulder while driving.

His coughing became true while Token face-palmed, Kenny burst out laughing, and Tweek screamed like a frightened baby animal because only baby animals seemed to pertain to him. "What the fuck, dude?" Clyde's hand clenched around Kenny's orange lighter.

"I promise you I will make sure Stripe doesn't go to the bathroom at all tonight." I warned, referring back to my earlier threat of having my guinea pig piss on his face. His fist lowered with the knowledge that I never backed down from a promise.

"If you two are done having your bitch fight, I'd appreciate it if you, Clyde, wouldn't mind passing the blunt to the right." Token interjected, all cool and smooth and that's why he was a sleek, black coated mafia boss.

"We're going to get caught, you guys," Tweek mumbled, worrying the lip of his thermos with his mouth, and that right there was why I was not allowed to look in the rear view mirror.

"We've never gotten caught but if I just jinxed us, watch how fast I rip my license plate off and we go running." A plan like that was never ever going to work, what with the papers in the glove compartment burying that blunt, all of which had my name on them, but it got Tweek's shoulders to sag minimally so I was okay with that. "So, Token, you going to keep hogging that shit all to yourself?"

Yeah, don't try and pretend like I didn't see you take more than two drags out of that lovely thing. Which meant the rear view mirror actually was important for something, except my eyes couldn't stop themselves from glancing at Tweek. He looked all worried in the back seat with his wide eyes. It made his lashes stand out more and I liked that because they were long and pretty and I'd definitely just described a boy's lashes in the most embarrassing way possible. Eyes on the road you big dumbass idiot.

"Directions, Kenny," I requested.

"Forty-third and Peoria." He said through a mouthful of smoke and blunt.

"Am I clear?" I asked Clyde, flipping on my blinker. He glanced over his right shoulder before giving me the go.

I switched lanes then proceeded to check the vicinity for cop cars, seeing as mine (not that she was a cop car) was getting a bit stuffy from the fumes. The smell of good weed was strong and musky and made me want it that much more. I was in no way preaching that it was okay to drive under the influence. I was just a skilled driver in the category of DUIs though I've never gotten one before.

But actually I was just being an inconsiderate idiot who would one day die a horrible death for putting other people's lives in danger after doing this so many times.

Kenny scooted forward in his seat, far enough so that he could wrap his arms around me and place the blunt in my mouth. "Who the hell lipped this thing?" My growl came out jumbled and clipped but Clyde understood it fair enough by the way his lips twitched. I wouldn't have had to of guessed for too long though, seeing as he always lipped the end of the fucking blunt. Nasty ass drool of his lounging around my mouth. Nasty fuck.

Reluctant now, I closed my lips around the end of the blunt. Kenny flicked the wheel of his lighter and brought the flame to the cherry, giving it a little bit more life just for me. Breathing in was like fire as my chest expanded, filling with putrid, contaminated, delicious smoke.

Clyde snatched the stick of weed from my mouth once I'd gotten enough of it in me. Holding it in was painful but not a new experience. I'd grown used to holding my breath by now. God knows I've been used to it for forever since hanging out with Kenny.

When I let it all out, new white wisps mingling together to form an attachment to the old white wisps, it felt like there was a heat pad against my heart. It felt good.

Sometime after the good feeling really started to settle in, Tweek began coughing in the backseat. Clyde wasn't even being a pussy anymore and was actually turned around part way, trying to hold out the blunt to the blonde. "Dude, you're already coughing because guess what. You're breathing in marijuana. This is just a higher dose of that. Just take it."

"I'm not getting high, man. I'll die or something if I try and hold my breath for that long," he whimpered.

"So the only reason you're not taking a hit is because you're afraid you'll suffocate yourself to death?" I asked, feeling like it was okay to question him because I was on the brink of haziness.

"Sweet Jesus! When you put it like that—shit, man. There's no way I'm doing it now!" My imaginary self definitely just gutted itself with a machete. He'd been thinking about doing it; I just fucked up the outcome.

"Awh! Come on!" Clyde passed the blunt to Token. "Here, just watch Token do it. He sucked his first time, too."

I couldn't not laugh at that. It was the horrible truth about Token Black. The first time he got high (actually, it was all of our first times) he swore that he was never going to do it again because he'd 'practically coughed up a lung' or so he said. Ironically, Clyde had been a beast at taking hits. Kenny'd been so impressed he had us all try out his bong the same night. Clyde sucked that thing dry his first try. Token—not so much. Not even close.

"Shut the fuck up, Craig." Token ordered, but he was laughing so it was all good.

Kenny's next drag resulted in him blowing all of his smoke into Tweek's face. The blonde blanched and swatted and coughed but there was nothing he could do stop what was happening. That's when the thought occurred to me.

Well, fuck. If everyone wants him high so bad. "Give me the blunt." I reached a hand back as Kenny passed it on wordlessly, obviously not about to question my authority. "Clyde, take the wheel." Tweek spasmed in fear, quickly asking what I was doing, but I paid no heed. I was too busy unbuckling my seat belt.

What I was about to do was probably the most stupidest, fucked up thing I've ever done but the emotions it evoked were more than enough to make up for it. The only problem was that Tuckers, especially indifferent, boring, lame Craig Tuckers, didn't feel emotion. Yet there I was in the most awkward, uncompromising position what with half my body hanging out, twisted, in the back while my bottom half attempted to maintain a steady speed limit.

I had one arm holding me up, hand close enough to feel Tweek's thigh brush against it when the cushion dipped, my other hand poised at his jaw, cupping the area closest to his ear. Through the fuzziness that was my brain, I thought his skin was soft.

With smoke trying to burn its way through the cavity of my chest and Tweek's mouth ajar, thin lips parted in unadulterated shock, I locked our mouths together so I could release the smoke in something called a 'shotgun'.

His large eyes widened impossibly further as Kenny crooned and chanted for Tweek to "inhale that shit," over and over again. Clyde and Token were howling with laughter, urging the frightened mouse that was Tweek to continue. His jaw seemed to unhinge with the relentless encouragement, mouth parting further, causing me to tilt into him so I could keep our connection seamless.

I didn't know if the high had just hit me all at once or what, but I was flipped upside down and giddy. My mind was creating scenarios out the who-haa and all of them seemed like great ideas as my gaze locked with Tweek's. His ginormous eyes seemed to swallow me whole and that's when all of my crazy ideas fell away, all but one. I knew I shouldn't have done it and definitely shouldn't have even thought of it, but the look he was giving me was slow and intoxicating and our lips were already touching, so why not?

My tongue wasn't in my own mouth anymore. I let it mozy on over, trailing in a cautious drag across the threshold of my mouth, which was wet and warm and tasted like me, but when my tongue met Tweek's, tripping over his bottom teeth, it was wet and warm and tasted like him. His eyes were already too wide to go any further but I felt the way the smoke in my lungs left in a quick spike as he gasped. My vision blurred and even that felt nice while I laid my tongue flat against his.

It was like fucking Narnia for a split second as his tongue pressed back. The sensation of that was all new to me. It was like someone had raked their nails down my spine and I seriously wanted so badly to jerk or move closer or something. I think Tweek wanted the same thing because his eyes scrunched up in the corners and he was giving me this look. It was the sexiest fucking bedroom eyes I'd ever seen and by God, I was reacting to them.

My fingertips dipped slightly, coming in contact with his hairline. I was Craig Tucker though and I couldn't let anyone know what I was doing so I forced my hand to stop moving. It was painful to do, I swear, but the way Tweek was touching the tip of his tongue to mine soothed the sore spots a little, but not enough. Then it occurred to me and I was such a fucking idiot not to notice sooner.

Kenny knew.

He was a beast, thee pro, at knowing when something even remotely sexual was taking place. He knew the signs, the language, could read eyes and watch the minimal movement of hands.

Our tongues were moving. He was watching our throats.

I pulled away and was back in the front seat with my hands clenching the wheel so tightly I thought they'd fall off if I let go. My heart was dying in my chest, breaking or something, I had no clue which. Tweek coughed in the same way my heart probably was. Clyde was having a field day congratulating him, and Token clapped him on the back to help him out, not understanding that the reason his cheeks were so cherry-like wasn't because he was out of breath. It was because I'd just molested his mouth with my tongue.


"That was real cute, Craig." Kenny's voice was in my ear like a haunting whisper. "I'm proud of you. How does it feel?" He kissed my cheek and I couldn't help but wish his lips were Tweek's.

"Shut up." My voice came out so breathless it was shameful. The blonde chuckled and reached around for my seat belt so he could buckle me back in.

"There's going to be so much tension between the two of you, so I'm going to give you some advice: Go for him. He really likes you even though you scare him shitless." He likes you even though you scare him shitless. My pulse thrummed steady, fast, and hard. I could feel it pounding in my head, my hands, everywhere.

What the hell was happening to me?

"I'm stopping at the park. Finish the blunt so we can let the smoke out," I ordered.

"Do you want the last hit?" Clyde asked, checking over his shoulder once again to see if the far right lane was clear before I could even ask. That's why he was my best friend. "You're good." I flicked my blinker on and steered Black Betty over while the brunette put the blunt in my mouth.

I took the deepest drag my lungs could muster. If it would take away the thrumming of my pulse or decrease the sensitivity of my mouth, I'd eat the marijuana if I had to. I just wanted to be indifferent again. I wanted to feel like Craig Tucker, not like I was hormonal. Everyone and their mother knew that wasn't who I was.

I'd kissed plenty of people. Elementary school it was the cool thing to do. Junior High it was because Clyde wanted to check if his girlfriends would cheat on him. High school I'd only ever kissed two people. Clyde because he was my best friend, not to mention that when you're on drugs kissing feels extra nice, and Kenny because, seriously, who hasn't?

The muscles in my jaw clenched tighter than my hands had on the wheel. Holy shit. It felt like steam was roiling off my entire body and I knew I shouldn't have gotten so worked up over the thought, but holy fucking shit. If I still didn't have to drive, I would've crushed the wheel instead of turning it so we'd make it into the entrance of the park's parking lot. If I still didn't have to drive, I would've tugged Kenny out of Black Betty so fast he wouldn't know what hit him until I curb stomped the hell out of him.

"Kenny." My voice was like cold, wrought iron. Everyone in the car seemed to freeze, just like Black Betty when I geared her to park and turned off her ignition. Token stared at me with raised brows, seemingly surprised at my sudden cold exterior. If only he knew it was my interior also. Or maybe he did. He had heightened senses for his best friends like that. Clyde had a similar expression except his lips were parted as he was barely able to contain his oh-shit giggles. Tweek's eyes, now beginning to redden in the corners, flickered his stare from me to the other blonde.

"This sounds like a private conversation. Why don't we go change and you can talk to me then, alright?" Kenny's lips were stretched so wide it was almost mocking, like he knew exactly why I was about to rip his guts out and just couldn't wait to hear it. I didn't say anything because I couldn't. He was right. This was a private conversation. So I took my last deep breath of the contaminated air and got out of my car.

When I got around to the trunk to pop it open, Kenny was at my side. I picked up my clothes then started off toward the abandoned play park. Nobody ever went there anymore ever since the incident where Kenny had 'died'. He'd turned it into one of those superstitious areas, ones that parents forbade and kids grew up learning never to go. The dingy, rusting iron of the playground structure still gave me the chills. Its history made it the perfect hide-out for defumigating my car.

"You stupid fuck!" I wasn't sure when the last time I'd raised my voice was, but doing it again made me remember how scary it could be. My voice had a tendency to growl when it wasn't feeling particularly nasally.

I threw Kenny against the monkey bar ladder, wondering if he remembered the way he'd slipped from the top and ended up in a tangled heap on the ground. Whether he reminisced now or not wouldn't matter. He was about to end up in that same compromise in a few seconds anyways. Then the playground would really be taboo.

"What, Craig? What are you pissed about?" He laughed and tutted and slid backwards, ghosting around toward the back of the miniature jungle gym. Even if I was furious with him, I had to give him props for being smart enough to lure me away so we wouldn't be seen from the car. He was good at having my back like that.

"You're not an idiot, McCormick." The last time I beat someone up was in seventh grade. Since then I've become a pro at verbal abuse, but breaking my physical abuse record didn't sound like too bad of an idea at the moment. Kenny stopped with his back against the inner tube slide, a horribly humble smile in place on his face. I walked up to him, matching his self assured body language.

We stood but inches apart and I had to admit that the guy had grown in height, but I've always had a good few inches on him. My face was void of emotion, just the way I liked it, although inside it felt like I was ripping myself apart, just the way I hated it.

When I spoke, my voice was low and quiet as if I didn't want anyone hearing even though there was nobody around to do so. "Have you kissed Tweek? Have you touched him at all?"

Kenny's eyes stared into mine, their powder blue color glowing vividly at my questions, which were actually accusations. He took a few stupid seconds to stare at me some more before wetting his lips, slowly, for good measure. Then he copied my crooked smirk and lent up so his lips brushed against mine. "How pissed off would you be if I stole his first kiss?" His voice was like a silent threat.

Something inside my brain was cracking, crumbling away. I didn't know if Tweek has kissed anyone before or not. I guess I'd always figured everyone had had their first kiss forever ago. But apparently... The 'but' in my situation was huge for some unexplainable reason and Kenny had just—Oh God.

"Don't worry." His lips curled up in a devilish way. Both of his hands were warm against my face as he cupped my cheeks. I was going to rip those hands off and feed them to Stripe. "You already beat me to it."

Suddenly those hands felt really, really comforting.

I exhaled a gust of—God, it was probably everything. Tension, anger, skepticism. Why I was feeling any of that, I didn't even know. What I did know was that there was genuine relief after all of those negative emotions were expelled from me.

Then Kenny's words hit me with an impact that knocked the breath from my lungs. Fucking hell, man. I was acting like such a pussy.

The blonde pressed his head against my chest, quaking with laughter. It tumbled from his mouth in ongoing successions. "Your heart's beating so fast, Craig. You're so adorable, ya know that? You're like a giant puppy dog."

"Get away from me, Kenny." I pushed him back against the slide before taking a couple of wobbly steps back. There was something seriously wrong with me for getting so worked up over a kiss.

"You know you still owe me a smooch." Goddamn it. He would never give up. "And you told me that I get to choose where we do it." He slithered forward, bending down briefly to pick up my shirt I hadn't even been aware of dropping. When he came back up, he was looking at me expectantly.

"You're a prick."

"You're not being fair." Perhaps my words weren't fair, but I was certainly being more than fair when I let his hands wander underneath my shirt. Like when they'd touched my face, his hands were warm and tracing up imaginary lines across my chest. "You know, whenever your name's brought up, Tweek likes to talk about you."

Shit. "Don't do this to me, Kenny." He ignored me, snickering before working my shirt up and over my head. The air was practically freezing now that winter was coming and I just wanted my shirt back.

"He gets all nervous and pulls at his hair." I hated this guy for making me imagine Tweek doing exactly that in my head. "He turns quirky like he always does and makes these little noises that I know you'd think are cute." Warm patches of kisses were fanned out along my neck. "I wish you could see the way he blushes and hear him stumble over his words." My chest was tightening up in response to Kenny's words as his mouth moved up to my jaw and the corner of my mouth.

"He'll compliment you sometimes, when he doesn't think he's being obvious." My clean shirt came down over my head. I let Kenny help me put it on and fuck, I'd kiss him if it got him to tell me what Tweek has said about me. "He likes how tall you are. It's endearing when I try to compare you to other guys and he always says you're taller." His hands smoothed out nonexistent wrinkles. "That kid adores the color of your eyes, I swear." Those same hands dropped to the top of my pants. He began working at the button and zipper.

"It's really special when two people who don't want anything to do with relationships like each other. So make it work, Craig, because I've been saving him for you." Once he got my pants undone, he veered away to work on his own clothes. "I'm not going to kiss you, either. Tweek's not the only one I've been keeping off limits."

By the time Kenny and I started heading back to Black Betty, we ended up catching Clyde in the act of catapulting himself over my car's faded black dash. My first thought was to shove my fist up his ass for potentially scuffing the lady—but then I remembered that I ghost ride the whip on her from time to time. The hypocrisy of an act like that didn't come across as appealing.

"What the fuck are they doing?" Kenny was too busy laughing to answer me because Token had come around from the other side of my car with Tweek tied to his chest. The blonde was screaming and what looked to be crying as he clawed desperately against the hold my best friend had on him. The man refused to release him, continuing to dig his fingers into what was obviously the sensitive spots on Tweek's sides.

Clyde jumped into the assault, grabbing a flailing leg around the ankle so he could tickle its bare foot. The poor kid was gasping in between 'nggh's, 'stop's, 'sweet Jesus's, and 'holy shit's, laughing in the most painful way. A fresh shirt was now riding up his stomach, a shirt that reminded me distinctly of Kenny. It was an orangish colored v-neck that was obviously too big for Tweek, seeing as I knew for a fact that the right sleeve wasn't just slipping down his shoulder due to the way Token was holding him.

His grey jeans were loose enough to shimmy down his waist as he struggled, exposing pale hipbones that jut out enough to juice a lemon pretty effectively. His one foot wore a black boot that kind of reminded me of Peter Pan except not as pussy-like, while the other one was slowly being tortured to death. He had tiny feet.

"You going to tell me why he's wearing your shirt?" I asked, accusing again.

"If it bothers you so much, give him one of your own. I'm sure he'll find it much more cozy than mine." Kenny's snarky comment made my stomach churn. I refused to believe butterflies were in there. The Tucker family slaughtered cutesy things like that. They did not harvest them in the seemingly never-ending pits of their bodies. "He spilled coffee on himself after I told him you'd be our entourage. I had an extra shirt in my locker."

Shit. I was such a sorry excuse of a Tucker.

"Dude!" Clyde called out once he saw us coming. "We found this kid's ticklish spots!" I was fogged in the head, feeling kind of stupid, had nasty, conniving bitches in my stomach and was still able to find his statement less than humorous. Why did my best friend have to be such a fucking idiot?

"That's usually where they're located, dumbass." I called back, wishing I had stayed in the hotbox just a little bit longer because there was no way I was high enough to deal with what was ultimately coming next. I'd have to communicate with Tweek, and after finding out one select key source of information just seconds ago, I didn't think that that was going to be possible. There could've been plenty of random nuts and bolts going through my head, actually there probably should've been, but all I could wonder about was what was going through Tweek's.

He'd just gotten his first kiss and hit of marijuana by the one person nobody should want anything from. That definitely wasn't a personal attack either. My goal was to make it so people didn't want anything from me. I was just Craig Tucker, the guy who didn't give a shit. What did Tweek even consider me as? When you put two and two together, everything Kenny'd said and what happened during the shotgun—I didn't want to think about it. I did not want to think about it.

"Tweek was paranoid you three wouldn't accept him. I knew Token was going to be cool but I didn't think that Clyde had it in him to suck it up and be a man." Kenny mused around the same time Clyde yelled something about me not being ticklish. I was pissed for a moment because, honestly, why couldn't my ears have worked the other way around? Why couldnt Kenny's words have been the muffled blurbs?

Now I was thinking about it! Fuck you, Kenny, fuck you.

"I just want to put on my other boot, man!" Tweek cried, not even getting a chance to catch his breath before he was laughing hysterically all over again. He had a light, chiding laugh that wasn't hard to listen to or maybe I only thought that because, there were plenty of ways to put it, but I was in denial so I decided to call him my soft spot. "It's hard to breathe! What if my lungs implode from loss of oxygen! Holy shit, dude—my blood'll be on your hands! You'll get a death sentence!"

Clyde and Token paused their ministrations to give each other a look based on the ludicrous scenario Tweek had created. Then they were cracking up in unison with Token allowing the blonde his freedom, bro-clapping him on the back for good measure. "You've got a wild imagination, Tweek."

I had a feeling that it was only because he was high that Tweek smiled bashfully up at the two as he stumbled away, bending down momentarily and lifting his knee to try an attempt at putting on his sock. After failing horribly repeatedly, he flung a hand in the air and called out, "Somebody give me a shoulder!" There was no stopping the way everyone was laughing or the quirk of my lips as he continued with, "My foot's gunna get frostbite! Help me, man. I don't know how to do this on my own!"

Kenny pushed me toward Tweek and it was one of those deals where you shook off the person's hands, turned around to glare at them, and then marched off in the direction you were forced to go in like you meant to do it anyways.

"Here." My fingers closed around the blonde's elbow to steady him because even though he'd asked for help, he continued to try to put his sock on by himself. When he realized I was solid and secure, he leaned against me, head on my chest as he looked up with dizzy eyes. The redness, more prominent now than it was before, caused the creamy color of his eyes to stand out. I wanted to look away but I didn't because I was a fool.

His cheeks turned rosy; it wasn't due to the cold. "Can you put my sock and boot on for me? My feet don't smell, I promise." The way he twitched, cheek pressing closer, reddening button nose scrunching up, made me believe that even if they did smell, I'd do it anyways.

"Sure." I took his footwear when he held it up then motioned toward the ground. "Let's sit down."

"No way, dude! I'm not gunna get frostbite on my ass!" But I sat down anyways, bringing him down with me. I played the hero and positioned him to land on the sidewalk and me on the pavement. Even though he screamed, he let it happen, probably knowing that if anyone was going to get a blue ass it'd be me.

"If you really feel as though your ass is going to die, I'll let it hog my heater, alright?" Then I proceeded to place his foot in my lap and ready his sock. He really did have little feet. I mean, they weren't midget sized but for a guy they were definitely small. I usually thought feet were gross, but Tweek's toes reminded me of the little piggies that went to the market, stayed home, had roast beef, starved, and 'wee-wee'ed all the way home.

That actually just made them sound fat and pudgy.

Fuck it. There was no good way to describe a foot.

After I'd slipped his sock on there was no other way to get his boot on over it without holding his calf. It fit snug against the palm of my hand, the same way tissues did in their happy little box of snugness. I almost thought of it as caressing but to be realistic, when did Craig Motherfucking Tucker ever caress anything? Except Stripe.

"Did you kiss me?" Tweek suddenly blurted out. "I—I mean—that thing back in the car—I don't know what else to call it." I finished putting on his boot, feeling like I wasn't completely there, as if Tweek's question had pushed part of me over and it was just laying there now. When I got up, he made one of his noises before ushering out an apology. "Sweet Jesus! Don't be mad at me, please."

"I'm not mad." I'm just freaking out in a very unemotional, bland way. "And I did kiss you. I'm sorry if it creeped you out or something." The lithe blonde struggled to stand and wobbled on his feet but he stayed up, forehead reaching my chin now that he was a few inches taller.

"I'm not creeped out." He responded, dragging his pale bottom lip between his teeth. I watched him nibble at it, wondering why everything that had to do with him had sliced so easily though the haze in my brain, or how everything about him seemed like such a good idea. "I'd like to use your heater now."

We were standing outside Black Betty because Tweek started spazzing when he saw we were going to sit and watch him warm up. I used her side to prop myself up. "You know," Kenny started, using his tone of voice that was specifically reserved for when he felt like being a creeper, "I can think of a better way to heat up his butt, if you know what I mean." He wiggled his brows at me.

Token and Clyde burst into laughter with Token doing his signature bro-back-clap, while I continued to stand there because Kenny had just made a sex joke about me and Tweek. Unfuckingbelieveable. I did not want to think about doing that with anyone. I didn't want to think about getting naked, or even touching them like Kenny and Clyde did. It was gross enough to make my lip curl up in distaste.

But when people had a... soft spot for someone—Nope, not going there.

Clyde sobered (from the humor, not the high) once the brow quirk, the one noticeably directed at me, registered in his muddled mind. "Wait, what?"

"Kenny's just making a gay joke. You know, like the ones he does on you because you cry all the time," Token covered, meeting my eyes in the same way they had during lunch, accept this one was for a whole different reason. I turned away from them, specifically so it wouldn't feel like Token knew my—what was it? A secret? Pfft.

Bending down, I opened the driver's side door, ignoring the wave of warm air the burst out, to peer in at Tweek, also ignoring the way Kenny was grinding against my ass and slapping my back. "My fucking Stripe stamp is right there, you douche." My butt backed up, pushing him away with a rough shove. Tweek, who had the heater on full blast, had his hands cupped against his face and sat smack dab in front of the air flow. How he wasn't roasting, I'd never know.

When he saw me, he jumped and twitched and did all of his stupid spastic things that I thought were really cute. "What did you say you had?" Kenny asked just before I could feel my shirt being peeled from my skin. It felt weird now with hot air against my face and chilly weather at my back. The blonde outside cracked up laughing. "Holy shit, dude! There is no way you got Stripe as your tramp stamp."

"You're right. It was like, two and one sixteenth of us." A goofy grin worked its way onto my face. Finally, I was smiling while I was high. My eyes found Tweek's and the instant we connected, he turned pink in the face and darted his gaze away to stare out the opposite window.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Kenny snickered, rubbing with his two index fingers at the spots where I knew Stripe's cheeks were.

Token slapped my ass. "Let's show him, Craig."

"Oh shit, Tweek!" Kenny cat-called when I straightened out and Token, Clyde, and I stripped off our shirts. "Cover your eyes!" My senses were hyper-aware that he was most definitely not doing as told. Pretend like you don't care, Tucker.

The three of us lined up and turned around to show our backs. Token, mister black beauty with all of his chocolaty goodness that I always told him was like fondue and he'd always get pissed at me when I did; me, the tall, lanky white boy; and Clyde, the perfect mixture of chub and muscle. That's about the nicest thing I've ever said about him.

I couldn't refuse the chance to look down at Clyde's sorry excuse of a tattoo. The sight of it irked the funny out of me and I couldn't stop laughing. I was keeling over with it, slapping my knee every time I couldn't get a good breath in because, God, it was hilarious.

All there was to prove that he had even gone to get a tattoo was the undefined nose and whiskers of Stripe's adorable face. That was where the one-sixteenth had come from. Token and I, then Clyde's unfinished tattoo.

Another look at it had me wheezing and I was punching him in the shoulder and hugging him and tears were in my eyes and this high was just awesome. "Dude. Do you remember that night we got drunk and you passed out first and I—" I cracked up before I could finish the story, but I was seeing it in my head and that was enough to send me overboard. "I took that marker and I—" My mouth was overflowing with massive 'HAHAHA's. "I drew that dick and it—it had fucking whiskers and a nose! Holy shit, dude. I love you, man."

"Stop making fun of it, you douche." Clyde whined, pushing me away. "Its not my fault that my skin is sensitive and I had to stop."

"Do you hear the shit that's coming out of his mouth?" I asked Kenny rhetorically. "You're such a fucking pussy, Clyde. I've been beating the hell out of you since we were like, three. You should have skin of steel by now, dude."

"Uh, h-hey guys," Tweek stammered, peeking out of Black Betty with a blush on his face that was completely understandable. Nobody could be around a shirtless Craig Tucker and not blush. Nobody could be around Craig Tucker in general and not blush. I definitely tended to get cockier than I already was when drugs or alcohol came into play. "We're an hour late."

"The fuck?" Kenny took out his phone from his battered pocket, spying the time. "Tweek's right. Kyle's going to be so pissed off that I'm late. I bet he's even figured out that our entire school's there and not just by coincidence."

"We can either drive or walk. Its about ten minutes away on foot." Token suggested, busying himself with the reattachment of his shirt. Even though it was cold and my skin was starting to chill, I took to keeping my shirt in my hands, pretending like I definitely wasn't feeling the whether, and that it was part of my natural instincts to remain shirtless. Which wasn't exactly false. Clyde and I tended to lose our clothing in the midst of intoxication one hundred percent of the time.

Like that one time we passed out after doing Ecstasy for our first time. I'd woken up naked in my bed, looked over the side, and on the floor was Clyde, naked, with one sock on. It was the funniest thing I'd even seen (besides the penis with a face on his back) so I'd taken a picture of it and it was now forever engraved into my laptop's hard drive.

But really, I just liked the fact that I could make Tweek blush by being half nude.

"We'll just drive," I decided, helping Clyde into his shirt when he stumbled after being blinded by the cover of the material. "I'm not doing it, though. My brain feels like a whoopee cushion. Clyde's not allowed to either."

"Well then, don't mind if I do," Kenny sing-sang after a lapse of silence.

"I cannot fucking believe you, Kenny." Kyle was right inside the door the second we entered the darkened building. The smell of deodorized skates, greasy snacks, and the air conditioning was like heaven in my nose. I loved skate rinks. "Why the fucking hell is the entire senior class of 2011 in this building?" The ginger's curls seemed to puff out when he was angry and his eyes glowed a brighter green in the smog from the black lights.

"Uh, so you won't see Ike go missing in the throng of all these people when I take him into the bathroom and give him the time of his life?" Kenny tried, forgetting to mention that he'd just added five extra people to the Broflovski's skating tab.

"Are you high?" Kyle as incredulously.

"I'm sorry. I forgot that I was ever sober." The blonde joked, ushering Kyle further into the building. Some black haired kid from my math class flew past us, trailed by another kid who I distinctly didn't like. I made a mental note to trip them up on the rink later.

"I can't believe you brought Craig. This is seriously unbelievable."

"Wait." I gave a look to the back of Kyle's head. "Just me? Seriously? You don't care that Clyde's here? You don't care that he's going to sex up all of these girls with Kenny at his side? That's a low blow, man."

"You don't care about any of that." The redhead glanced back to match my look. "This is just egging on your reputation." My lips slid into an easy smile.

"Touché, Broflovski, touché." He returned my smile bitterly.

"Whatever. Now that you're all here and you're all high, don't try and ruin Ike's night." For a second it was like a huge relief. Kyle was done being a bitch and was going to shut the hell up now. Except he was like the fucking exorcist and kept on coming back, mumbling or ranting or spouting nonsense while his head kept on turning around like an owl's.

It was fucking creepy, and the way the kaleidoscopic lights were playing on his eyes and each individual freckle was even more demented. "Tweek, Thomas has been trying to call you for I don't know how long. You should probably go see him," the redhead informed.

Kenny suddenly stopped. It was like a domino affect after that: Kyle, Token, Clyde, and me all froze. Although it wasn't Kenny that had set off the ripple effect. It had been Tweek. He was staring at the floor, slim brows knit together in a mixture of negative emotions. His lashes looked psychedelic under the fusion of neon lights.

"I don't have my phone. It's on vibrate. I should have felt it. Fuck, man. Shit. I don't know where the hell my phone is. Oh god, oh god." He brought one fragile fingered hand up to his forehead and rubbed one of his temples, refusing to detach his other from Kenny's shirt which at some point he'd taken to clenching. "This is way too much pressure! Sweet Jesus, I know I had it at school."

"Hey, dude, Tweek, we'll find it. We all lose our phones every once in a while," Token reassured, not expecting the freakout that Tweek was about to unleash.

"I never lose my phone, man! Gah! I-I cant believe I was so inconsiderate! I have stuff on there! Text messages and embarrassing things! If someone finds—fuck! I'm going to be so screwed. My life is going to get spilled all over the internet, dude! I'll end up on fucking 4chan and rapists are going to think I want their nuts. Oh my God, oh my God. I lost my phone. My parents are going to kill me. They're going to send me away into slavery for being a bad son!"

"It's probably in my car," I said, attempting to hold the crumbling pieces of Tweek together as he shook and quaked, hand moving up to ensnare his hair. The knuckles on his hand were white and I was sure his roots were crying. "We can go look for it, alright?"

Kenny smirked like he knew something was up, but I just elbowed him in the side because I had no idea what that look he had on his face was about. I pried Tweek's fingers off of his back and placed them onto mine. The itty-bitty blonde didn't even seem to notice what was going on around him.

"We'll be right back." I kind of liked the way Tweek was attached to me.

"It has to fucking be in here." Tweek was on his hands and knees in the backseat of Black Betty. He was keeled over, back arched incredibly low so he could reach his arm up to the hilt of his shoulder underneath the front passenger seat. I was in a similar position except I'd given up on searching after the fifth time I'd peered under the driver's seat.

Now I was occupied, although it was more like ogling, by the fact that Tweek could be completely scandalous and not even know it. The way he was bent made Kenny's shirt ride up until a good sized patch of skin showed just above the hem of his pants. It was so easy to look at and it was right there, right there, in front of me. I tried to look away but I was like a fucking nightmare caught in this boy's dream catcher.

"This is so stupid. I hate this. I hate all of this. I knew it was easier to just stay home for the rest of my life." His words didn't register. In one ear and out the other. It was like I wasn't even there as he crawled forward, very seductively I'd like to point out, with his haunches rocking back and forth. He sneaked between my arms to reach and devour the extremely empty compartment underneath the driver's seat.

I sat back on my heels to let him do what he had to do, all the while star-struck by his exposed midriff. I could swear it was winking at me. I wondered if this was what it was like for Kenny or Clyde, or anyone really, when they had a... soft spot for someone. Did it always feel this? Like you—

Tweek rolled back up, knees knocking against mine, and he didn't even have a chance to realize how close we were, how close our faces were, before I kissed him. His presence had hit me hard—the smell of a person, of skin, and coffee, and I could feel his skin shudder when I brought both of my hands up to frame his face. "We'll find your phone in a minute," I mumbled, rubbing my lips against his to feel a tingle and a sensitivity that I didn't know could exist.

A petite 'nggh' sounded between our lips. It was fucking adorable, especially when I felt Tweek's cheeks heat up against the pads of my thumbs. He tilted his head under the instruction of my hands when our lips started smacking, catching and releasing. My chest constricted when it hit me that Tweek was reciprocating.

A tap on the window. "I know you guys are smooching it up in there, but I know where Tweek's phone is and Thomas is on his way out. Unless you want him—" I reached around and yanked the door open, making sure it collided straight into Kenny's body as punishment for fucking up my life.

"You know where my phone is?" Tweek cried, laying flat against my lap so he could lean his head out the door and look up at Kenny with the most hopeful, grateful gaze I'd ever seen anyone own. What Tweek didn't realized was that the entire ordeal had been set up by the perverted boy. Kenny had known what would happen when I got this kid alone in my car, hence another reason why Black Betty's door had abused his body.

"Yep. Totally brain farted when you said you'd lost it." Lies. "It's in the trunk with your gym shorts."

When we made it back into The Rink, Tweek was canoodling his phone (never thought I'd be jealous of something so useless) while Thomas cursed a greeting and blushed in a way that almost matched Tweek's, except his was more of a hazardous red color whereas Tweek's was soft and looked more like a shade of bubblegum pink. Kenny was off in his own little world sizing up all of the potential victims in the vicinity.

I was obviously off in my little happy place too, one where I didn't pay attention and thoughts of Tweek swirled like a mad whirlwind now that I had succumbed to being a fucking hormonal idiot. Some pipsqueak was grabbing onto my hand and their wheeled feet where doing a retarded little diddy. I shook the kid off and kept on walking.

"I got your skates for you, dude." Token held up a pair from where he sat, just on the edge of a massive horde of booths and tables. They were all made of thick plastic, which probably wasn't the safest decision due to the fact that everyone ran into them like a train without breaks at some point in their life. Presents and cake were set up on two of the tables, all of which I was guessing were for Ike. May God have mercy on the poor souls who were actually going to sit there and watch the kid open them up and eat his dessert. The lighting had moved from disco to a dimmed regular, but beyond the sets of seats the colors became eccentric and vivid again.

"I already got one point." I told him, referring to our game we'd created many years ago, as I sat down beside him and began slugging on the old school skates. The whole point of the game was to make as many people as you possibly could fall down and embarrass themselves. He frowned at me as if I'd just stole the race by cheating at the three-two-one countdown. "It was a good one. The kid thought I was going to save him but I shook him off and let him fall on his ass." At that Token smiled and laughed at the image I was sure he was conjuring in his mind.

"Hurry up, Craig. I want to get out there and impress the ladies," Clyde's voice was against my ear, his arms wrapped around my shoulders, chest pressed tight against my bent back as I laced up the skates.

"You mean you want to go out there and show off your two best friends? Because you know you can't skate." He didn't whine or react to my insult, only tilted his head closer and kissed my cheek. That's when I remembered he was high, that I was high.

"Dude, there is something seriously wrong with me today. I think my high is bipolar. What a bitch." Skates at the ready, my now free hands reached back to ruffle Clyde's brown locks.

"Yeah, mines actually pretty mellow today." Token raised his brows at me and stood up to direct a question to the others. "You guys okay if we go?" Ah, hospitable Token. Always pleasing and polite.

"No problem. I actually think I want to see this. Ten bucks says Craig can't skate worth shit and he's been bluffing this entire time. What do you think Tweek?" Kenny asked, already in his skates and waiting for Tweek who hadn't even attempted to take his shoes off. He still held his phone close to his chest.

As I stood, Clyde's arms remained woven around my shoulders, causing him to lift onto the tippy-toes of his skates. When I moved, he rolled behind me. If I had been anyone who didn't know us, I'd say we looked pretty damn cute.

"Ack! I don't know, man. What if I'm wrong? I don't have ten dollars. I'll be in debt to you and then I'll have to owe you one of my pinky fingers or something! Those ones are my favorites, dude!" Despite his paranoid speech, Tweek let Kenny drag him after us and toward the waist-high wall separating the rink from the carpet.

Receiving a less-than-formidable answer from Tweek, Kenny then asked his friend, "What do you think, Thomas?"

The golden blonde hurried to tug on his skates before gliding across the floor to meet with the other two at the wall barrier. It was hard to hear him over the heavy bass and boisterous instruments of the music now that we had gotten closer to the rink itself, but I heard something about how I could possibly have a hidden talent.

I scoffed internally. Fuck the possibility, I do have talent. "This is a good song," Token observed just as a steady rhythm started throughout the building. One continuous, subtle word was whispered repeatedly to the beat of the music. The chords of the instruments and the familiarity of the song brought my high back to an incredibly happy place.

My lips spread into a slow grin as I reached around to detach Clyde from my person, although I kept one of his hands in mine. "Let's go," I murmured, quiet voice inaudible under the heavy beat.

Token led us to a break in the wall where people were continuously moving past, either going in or out. Some faces looked familiar but I didn't care, I kind of just wanted to get out there and pull a 'Clyde' to impress Tweek. But first I had another point to score.

The second my and Clyde's skates touched the slick concrete of the rink, I ripped my hand from his and shouldered him so hard he fell over. Right onto his ass. Token and I cracked up in hysterics as we took to the rink, bro-fisting over my accomplishment. Through my laughter I could distinctly feel three pairs of eyes on me, so in order to perform a 'Clyde', I met Token's gaze.

There was another one of those BFF telepathy moments where we discussed what little trick to start things off with—and then I had no idea what happened from there, but I do know we made every person insanely jealous with our mad skills.

And I really needed to stop putting things in such a lame way. I blamed in on the skates, though. They made me feel old and like it was okay to use words like groovy, hip, and dashing.

"What the hell, dude?" I heard Kenny's holy fuck, look at that shit tone of voice from where he stood, elbows braced against the wall, as Token and I bent our knees to accommodate for the way our feet were tipped, rolling on the two top wheels. We managed to move in unison, swerving our legs to the beat of the song to keep up a steady speed. My smirk was shit-eating, greedily absorbing the awe and surprise coming from Kenny.

"Right leg?" Token shouted from beside me. I nodded my head, shaking out my right leg in a way that would have looked completely stupid, but when you're skating and you do little foot moves like that, it looks totally fucking awesome. I dropped back a tad, letting my best friend in front of me before we started gliding back and fourth, changing places left and right, all the while keeping up with minute leg movements that were smooth and unfaltering.

I dropped my head back and laughed out loud when Token brought his feet together and spun with his arms held out. It was like Micheal Jackson had been resurrected. He pointed at me, coincidentally on the mark when the bass of the song dropped low and intoxicating. My skates moved in a seamless enrapture across the floor as I turned and slid, twisting my feet in coordinated movements that caused me to glide across the ground, seemingly without force. Token clapped his hands, laughing as he back-skated to continue watching me.

Out of the corner of my eyes I saw an insatiable target, some little brown headed kid with wobbly limbs. When he was within range, I spun around and jumped at him, arms wide like I was a towering, hulking beast, which wasn't far from the truth to this kid. He screamed, legs slipping out from beneath him. "Three!" I called out to Token, catching up to him with a few energized sweeps of my feet.

My leg kicked out at him, attempting to trip him even though I knew it would never happen. He dodged the futile effort, crossing one leg over the other to slide out of the way in a smooth motion, stopped, back tracked toward me, stopped, spun and slid then stopped, all to the beat of the music. Catching his meaning, I followed his feet, crossing and twisting fluidly as I used the motion of my arms to keep me balanced. Token and I were creating our own dance, I realized, as we moon-skated our way back toward our starting point.

"You're supposed to be a lanky, white boy, Craig!" Kenny hooted and clapped at our show.

"I am a lanky, white boy." Although the way Token and I were spinning around each other, gliding across the floor, and pivoting in time with the rhythm of the music said differently.

"Wanna go for halvsies?" My best friend asked, eyes suddenly glued to one Bebe Stevens on my left.

A sadistic grin split my face in two. "Let's do it." In a monotonous, silent movement we slid our bodies in Bebe's direction, splitting apart once she was close enough to surround.

"I swear to God if you guys are going to tag team me—" She knew our trick only because we'd done it to her in fourth grade, but that alone couldn't save her. For nostalgia, we took our time to circle her.

"Sorry, Bebe." Token apologized, giving me the head nod to complete our terrorizing. The trick was to circle your target so fast that they eventually just lost it and fell over. They were always the funniest because the tone of which they screamed wasn't just in surprise, but in knowledge that they knew they were going down and they always flailed in the most embarrassing way.

When Bebe hit the floor, it looked like she'd belly flopped into a pool, spread eagle. Token and I couldn't contain the outburst of laughter that came tumbling from our mouths like an avalanche set off by the heavy crash of a skier. I didn't even know if that was what actually set avalanches off, but right then that was the logical explanation in my head.

"Another lap?"

"Do you honestly have to ask?" I replied, starting backwards as I returned to the tippy toes of my skates and criss-crossed them in time to the low bass rifts.

"Guess who was looking at you like you were half-God." Token launched himself forward, spinning in a wide circle to trade places with me. I spun back around, twisting my skates against the floor.

"A God, eh?" To the side I watched Stan and Kyle grapple at each other, tugging relentlessly at their limbs to get the other to fall down. Part of me wanted to help them with that but the other part of me was distracted. Kyle yelped when he almost fell and punched Stan in the arm. The guy, who could seriously by my twin, laughed it off before his fingers started working at one of the ginger boy's curls. Kyle didn't swat his hand away like he usually would to Kenny or anybody else. "Do you think Kyle see's Stan as a God?"

"Are you seriously comparing you and Tweek to Stan and Kyle?"

"I don't know," I answered honestly, knocking shoulders with Token as he spun around to my side. "They have a perfect relationship." My observation didn't go unproven, especially with the way Stan was trying to hold Kyle's hand and kiss his knuckles.

"Do you want a relationship with Tweek?"

"I don't know." But that answer wasn't completely honest and Token knew because he was insightful of his best friend like that.

"I think you can trust him. I think he wants to be able to trust you too. You're the reason he started hanging out with Kenny, you know." No, I didn't know, but thanks for informing me. I'm going to go shoot a baby now and steal its uncontaminated heart. Babies didn't know what attraction was, what soft spots were, what hormones did. If I could've had a baby's heart, I could've lived my boring life in monotony, just the way I liked it.

"Who told you that?"

"Nobody. It's pretty obvious when you're not Craig Tucker or Clyde Donovan." His joke brought a smirk out of me. "Tweek's petrified of you but I think you're the only person, place, or thing he'd set his fears aside for."

"So I'm just that pronoun little blonde kids wouldn't mind being scared of?"

"Actually, that sounds exactly like you—Hey, Tweek's actually trying to skate." Token observed after clearing his system of the giggles. My vision swam when I looked out through the sparkling light show to find him. I didn't.

"Hey, Assholes numbers One and Two." Clyde swung up behind us, slinging his arms around our shoulders. I glanced at him, noticing how his hair was swept back from his face and his cheeks were tinged red. Sometimes my best friend could be adorable.

"You look really cute, just saying." I told him, leaning over to kiss his cheek like he'd done to me earlier. When he smiled, it was huge and gluttonous. Token and I made eye contact again.

"What are you guys doing now?" He pleaded, knowing better than to resist when both of his hands were grabbed.

"Just skating," I told him, smirking at the downfall his cute features took when Token and I dragged him forward, one of each of our skates slipping between his legs to spread them farther apart.

"Guys!" He whimpered, impending doom clearly written across his face as he looked up at me.

"Say goodbye to your nut sack." Without a second's hesitation, unlike the one we'd given Bebe, Token and I pulled Clyde with us as we pushed froward and dragged him until his legs started spreading of their own accord. The farther we went, the more space there was between each of his feet.

"I fucking hate you guys! This hurts!" Clyde tried to struggle as the pain started ebbing away at him but we refused to let go, waiting and waiting until his legs got so stretched that it began to look like it hurt. Then we dropped him flat on his face and continued on our way. "Fuck you guys!"

"I don't know why he's still our friend," Token snickered, glancing back at Clyde's crumpled form on the floor.

"Because he's an idiot. Where did you say Tweek was?" I asked, spinning idly to get a swirly, dizzying sensation churning throughout my stomach.

"The same place he's been except now he's on the other side of the wall." Squinting my eyes in the direction he'd specified, I saw what he did.

Tweek had one hand on the wall, the other holding on in a claw-like vice to Kenny's shoulder. Thomas was in front of him, encouraging him to move forward with his arms outstretched and at the ready just in case the lithe blonde fell.

"You know, I'm totally not gay or anything, but I think it'd be really cute if you were the one helping him out. You taught Ruby how to skate, I'm sure Tweek's no different." It was harder than I remembered it being to swallow and I didn't even bother trying to hide the difficulty as I looked at Token.

He stared back at me with an expression that told me he understood. He knew this was hard for me, that I couldn't admit what I felt was a crush (because it wasn't, I just had a soft spot) but his eyes told me he was there for me so that he could tell me what to do, how to go about this—this soft spot. Token was the ideal guy a girl should want to take home to her parents. I trusted him. So if he told me to help Tweek learn how to skate, fuck yeah I was going to do it. Not that I wanted Tweek to take me home to his parents or anything.

"You should probably go get ice for Clyde, anyways. I'm sure he's being a crybaby." When I looked back toward Tweek, my best friend left my side. I almost wanted to crack my knuckles and say something like Alright. This sexy, motherfucking Alpha is ready, but that was too gay for me so instead I opted for flirtatious. To Tweek, it was probably just piss-your-pants material.

I strode up behind the blonde that looked more like a newborn doe than a person. Kenny and Thomas saw me but Tweek remained oblivious, all of which was for the better, and Kenny smirked at my arrival, most likely already aware of what I was going to do. In the next split-second, my arms were out, hands grabbing and shaking Tweek's hips in a surprise, I'm here! sort of way. The itty bitty blonde lurched forward, screaming obscenities while he lost his grip on the other's hand's. Thomas's arm net would have come in handy had I not been there to keep Tweek from crumpling.

My arms slid like snakes across his stomach and I swore to myself it was only because it was the easiest way to keep him upright. His fingers dug into my skin as he jerked himself straight up, feet sliding against the ground. His back started slipping down my chest. Smirking at our predicament, I hiked him back up, capturing his body against mine until I could feel how fast his breath was coming. "Sweet Jesus," he whimpered, shoulders tense.

"I'm going to teach him the basics of skating. You guys aren't doing a very good job." My explanation made immediate contact with Kenny. He reached out, interlacing his fingers with Thomas's, causing something inside of me to contract as I wished that I could do that with Tweek.

"Come on then, we should let the man do his business," Kenny agreed.

"Shit! But—"

"No 'but's, bro. Tweek can take care of himself around the big, bad wolf." Wolf is right, motherfucker. Glad we're on the same page. I regretted not cracking my knuckles or saying my line at that point.

"Did you really have to use that analogy, man?" Tweek's body shuddered against my own and I prayed to everything that's ever existed that he didn't notice the way my hold tightened. "Wolves are scary shit, dude." Kenny just smirked, drawing Thomas away from us, and gave me a thumbs up. Goddamn it. Not the thumbs up. "We'll skate later once I figure out how," he offered to his friend's pouting features.

Was it bad that I was relieved as hell when they finally left?

Fuck no. I was relieved when everybody just got the fuck out.

Chapter Two Preview:

My brain was so fogged, hazy, and I didn't know how to control my body. I couldn't stop myself from backing Tweek up until we tumbled onto the couch, I couldn't stop myself from trapping his body beneath mine, I couldn't even breathe right. My gasps were so jumpy and erratic that part of me should have been concerned, but there was no room for anything accept what Tweek was doing to me with his hands and mouth.

He caught my bottom lip between his teeth and tugged as his hands rode my shirt up along my back. The way he started shifting it over my head was an obvious implication and I was more than ready to agree to the suggestion. I was so doped up on hormones and drugs and Tweek that I was seriously ready to do anything for this kid. I let him move me like a rag doll back against the couch so our positions were switched, and you know what? I ain't even mad.

Him on top was better because he could lay his chest flat against mine without any hindrance. I liked the thought of him straddling me, too.