Tweek was drunk. Tweek was very drunk.

And he just took another shot of tequila because I let him.

This was too good to pass up. He was stumbling around and saying the most random things to people he'd refused to even look at before. Coming up behind his straying figure, I took the shot glass from him and handed it off to the girl he'd been trying to have a conversation with. She was laughing at whatever he'd said. Probably something along the lines of how ready his butt was for me. "You've taken enough detours," I told him. "I thought you wanted to off the face paint."

"I do!" He cried, turning around too fast. Unable to catch up with himself, he stumbled blindly. I grabbed his forearms and hauled him upright, dragging him into the bathroom with me so that he couldn't make anymore stops. While I was shutting the door, he leaned over the sink and took a good look at his smeared face in the mirror. "I l—look funny," he sniggered, touching his reflection where one particular smudge was located as though he could try and fix it.

"It lasted longer than I thought." To retrieve a washcloth since I didn't trust him doing it himself, I had to lean over his slumped form. As I did so, he bonked his forehead against the mirror and then backed up against my hips. Disoriented, the blonde glanced over his shoulder and at my face to which his woozy expression returned. When I had a small towel and returned to my full height, he rested his back against the sink and gave me a relatively noticeable once-over. His unfocused eyes lingered on my pantless legs. "How am I looking?"

He blushed but said rather blatantly, "Really fucking good." It was like his body had remembered how to react but his brain didn't. Or maybe it was just his mouth. As though he had to make sure, he lowered his gaze to take my body into consideration for a second time. Again, he lingered on my legs. And then it occurred to me that I was wearing very little there and it probably wasn't so much my legs he was staring at as it was my crotch.

"You should," he half giggled half chirped, "take your clothes off." His hands came up in some drunken gesture, followed by his finger circling around as unbalanced and intoxicated as he was. "Because we're all that's in here. And you've seen me naked" —cue a shaky pointed finger on him— "so it's only fair that I get to see" —the finger was now on me— "you naked."

My Halloween would have been absolutely nothing without Tweek asking me to get naked in front of him.

"I'll take off my shirt," I bargained, hands already on the hem of my sweater. "But I have to keep the bottoms on because the party's not over yet, alright?" He nodded his head, eyes stuck to me, mouth slightly ajar. Anything would've been fine just as long as something was coming off. Once I'd pulled the first article over my head, I started on the top button of my undershirt. Tweek was still watching me when I asked, "Do you want to help?"

Without answering verbally, he stepped forward and came up from the bottom, ogling at every new patch of skin revealed. It was a cute look on him partnered with the blurred face paint. When the two halves of my shirt were disconnected, he slipped his hands up to my shoulders and pulled the fabric off, fingers tickling down my arms. He stared at my body for a minute, indulging in what he could see of me. It was nice knowing he liked me so much that I didn't have to put on a show for him. I didn't have to flex or stick my pelvis out to impress him. All it took to do that was to stand there like plain old Craig.

I waited until he finally looked up at me to wave the washcloth and say, "Let's clean you up." His eyes watched it dizzily. "Go ahead and sit on the tub." As I wet the towel, I watched him make his way toward the porcelain wall we tended to find ourselves at on occasion. He plopped down and lost his balance, toppling backwards with a noise that was a hybrid between a scream and alarmed laughter. It took him a few tries before he was safely straddling the bathtub.

A proud smile was on his face when I came over and placed myself in front of him. The first thing I did was wipe his mouth off. "Is it l-leaving?" He asked.

"Yeah," I chuckled. "It's leaving."

It was interesting the way he reappeared. The tiger face paint had been thick enough to conceal everything about him: his light smattering of freckles and the pale color of his petal pink lips. There was such a distinct difference between his face and the paint. Almost like peeling off a mask.

After a few more swipes at his jawline followed by his cheek and a few folds of the washcloth later, he started speaking. I'd just uncovered his right eye when he finished asking, "What do you see when you look at me?"

Dabbing at the bridge of his nose, I said very obviously, "I see a Tweek."

His cheeks puffed up into a smile. I cleaned off his left so that it would match the right. Swallowing, he asked, "Do you see a gay kid?"

"Yes." Because he was the type of gay who you automatically got a vibe from.

"Do you see socially-retarded?"

He couldn't see me smile with his eyes closed, but I was cleaning his forehead so it didn't necessarily matter. "You're shy and uncomfortable with people you don't know and that's how it comes across. So a little, I guess. But it's excusable."

"Okay." Opening his eyes, he took the cloth from me and began cleaning off my own face. Had he been sober, I was positive that his gaze would've been intent. Instead, it was glistening from the alcohol and fluttering all over the place. My features were his to look at, and that's exactly what he did as he wiped them down. Perhaps I'd been doing something similar. Somewhere in all of that, while I was losing myself to the shots of alcohol in my system, he asked me a third question. "Do you see crazy? Can you tell that I have problems?"

"No." I shook my head and opened my eyes. Everything about his own were so unique: their wide, angular shape and their crystalline green color, his dark lashes with the randomly placed blonde pieces. "I couldn't tell anything because that's what your medication is for." He couldn't look away from me and I couldn't look away either. We were snagged. "Don't call them problems. Stop thinking of them negatively. You know that I like your stutter." His blush recoiled like he knew what I was going to say next and he didn't want to hear it. "There's all of these things about you that you keep insulting and you don't understand that I think of them a lot differently. They're...admirable."

I'd almost said desirable but the context wasn't correct. Well, it would always be correct when regarding Tweek because there would never be a situation in which he wouldn't want to hear me call him desirable. But I wanted to reassure him more than I wanted to compliment him. Although I did want to compliment him. Just not the same compliment that meant stimulating him by referring to his mental issues as something I desired. Even though I did. I just didn't want to make this sexual. "There's nothing wrong with you, Tweek."

The blonde wrapped his fingers around my wrists and nuzzled his face into the palm of one of my hands. His eyes had started tearing, and as he blinked, they got worse. I wasn't sure if they were just watering because of the vivid clarity of our connection or if something I'd said had made him cry. He let out a shaky breath and tightened his hold on me, inching closer to sidle his legs across my thighs. "Craig," he whispered brokenly. The pads of his fingers pressed against the insides of my wrists and he swallowed once before adding, "I like you." His eyes widened briefly and he said it again. "I—I like you so much."

Hmm. It was surprisingly nice hearing him say it. There was another thing I wanted to hear him say, though. My thumbs stroked the apples of his cheeks which had grown warm and pink. "Am I the cockblock crush?" His body tensed for an instant before reverting back to a noodle-like consistency that needed to lean against me for support.

Tweek let out a whoosh of a giggle and I wondered how much built up tension from trying to keep his secret had just been released in that single breath. "You're definitely the cockblock crush."

"Oh yeah?" I sniggered. "So there's no questioning it?"

"Seriously?" He pulled away to do what I figured was give me an incredulous look but nearly lost his balance and settled for kissing me instead. "I haven't needed to question myself for a long time."

How long? I wanted to ask. But he'd hiked himself higher in my lap and was straddling me instead of the tub and I couldn't just ignore his advances.

I grabbed his hips to keep him steady and molded our mouths to fit together, wary of balance despite being his anchor. His legs wrapped around my torso, heels pressed against my back as his hands plunged into my hair, digging root deep. He arched into me, moving his lips as well as his fingers.

A knock on the door disrupted us. Tweek pulled away and screamed, "What?"

Opening the door a crack, Pretty Lady stuck her hand inside ready two shot glasses. "I come bearing gifts."

One look at the tequila and the blonde was crawling over. "Did you need to use the bathroom?" His voice was much softer now.

"Kind of." She pushed the door open farther and peered inside. I was still sitting on the tub. "What were you two doing?" The tone she spoke with was one of knowing.

I shared a quick glance with Tweek who was pitching back the shot. "Secret's out," I said.

Feigning surprise, the girl asked, "So what's going to happen now?"

Another look was shared between me and the blonde. "We'll see," I said to her. Tweek held his breath and bit his lip, red in the face. I had no expectations or guesses or much of anything really, but he clearly did, though I had no idea what I'd do with them.

"If I may make a suggestion?" We gave her our attention. It wasn't a shocker when she told us her "suggestion", at least not for me. "Boyfriends has a lovely sounding ring to it, doesn't it? And In a Relationship on Facebook. And mom, dad: this is my boyfriend." I didn't bother telling her that we'd basically already gone through that last one.

For Tweek's sake I asked, "Are you done?" He'd taken the second shot and looked about ready to go searching for a third.

"Only if you are." She smiled before saying, "Now get out. I'm about to give your best friend a blow job because someone decided to fuck in our room."

Spinning around, the blonde succeeded in getting out half of his question before he tumbled over and hit his head against the wall. "Your room's still safe, right?" He asked me from his place on the floor.

"Let's go find out," I answered, coming to a stand. Tweek held his arms up off the floor, a sign that I should pick him up. Clasping his wrists, I gave him a suitable tug and lifted him to his feet. He was giggling and running into me, digging his fingers into my back to keep himself upright. As we exited the bathroom, slowly but surely, I gave Pretty Lady a piece of advice. "You enjoy that dick in your mouth, alright, girl?"

We made it to the end of my hall where the bedrooms forked between Clyde's and mine. Theirs was the only one with a light on but that didn't mean people couldn't have sex on my waterbed in the dark. Literally, I felt genuine worry that my bedroom was being abused seconds before opening my door. And then I did, and I turned the light on, and Tweek exasperatedly flung himself onto my unused bed. He grabbed at the sheets and snuggled into the swaying mattress, physically and verbally letting it know how happy he was that it was unharmed.

What I wanted to say was, You are so drunk right now. But then I thought about it and Tweek probably would've done the same thing sober. He was peculiar when it came to inanimate objects and had a soft spot for the stuff that nobody else wanted. His favorites were broken things like straws and the last candy bar in the checkout line at the store. Even if he didn't like the brand, he'd purchase it just because he felt bad. It was an endearing characteristic.

Groaning loudly, a noise holding no purpose, the blonde reached up and grabbed onto his Who hair tie. He ripped the band from his head and threw it a measly few inches across the room. "Hair—free!" The next move he made was to roll around onto his stomach and stick his butt high into the air. His shirt slipped down his back, exposing his slim torso. Making another useless noise of almost-frustration, he fisted the fabric and twisted it off his body, nearly getting his head and arms stuck in the holes. "Shirt—off!" Ass still in the penetration position, he fumbled around with the front of his pants until they were loose enough to shimmy out of. He summersaulted off the side of my bed, laughing hysterically, one foot still caught in his jeans. "Pants—ugh, God, get off!"

This was a rambunctious side of the blonde that I had never seen before. He was definitely short on modesty and timidity. Tequila knew how to do that to a person, I guessed. "Tweek." He snapped his head in my direction, shaking his leg out as he did. His smile was sloppy, eyelids low, and when his pants were off, he rolled onto his back and laughed up at me like seeing me upside was getting him right in the tickle spot. "You're pretty drunk."

"Mhmm!" I watched, wholly entertained, as he agreed wholeheartedly and wiggled around on the floor. He didn't get very far before he stuck his hands up and requested, "Come down here with me!"

Just to appease his drunken wants, I walked around to his front, put a foot on either side of him, and lowered myself onto his stomach. "This is what you meant, right?"

There was a large amount of femininity to his giggle when he told me, "Close enough, Craigifer."

Oh, man.

Fuck, that had sounded damn nice coming from his mouth. He settled his hands against my legs and lightly stroked my thighs. The soft graze of his fingertips was inducing sparks of temptation. As he let out a quiet sigh, we made eye contact, and I was undeniably piqued at the abundance of straightforward admiration he was gazing up at me with. He was enraptured by me, not only at the moment, but all the time.

It was somewhat strange and yet compelling to know that I had that kind of effect on him, that I could make him feel a certain way so strongly. It was a powerful sensation. How long had it been this way? How long had he been waiting for me to acknowledge this advantage he's given me? How badly has he wanted me to use it?

With a smirk, I lifted my hands and caressed the thin column of his throat, making sure to brush my fingers along the points of his pulse. It was rapid like the flickering of a flame shuddering through a person's breath. My palms flattened as I smoothed them out across his collarbones and led them down his chest.

I scooted lower, hovering above his hips. His ribcage expanded, pressing firmly into my hands, and arched when my touch spread toward his stomach. He breathed shakily, a shortness to each inhale and exhale, eyelids heavy. Kneading his sides, I worked my way back up his chest, mesmerized by the sight of my own fingers on his body. The blonde's lips parted, a slight hitch in his breath when my thumbs grazed his nipples.

He shifted beneath me, hands squeezing my thighs. I leaned forward to skim my mouth across his, smelling the scent of alcohol, teasing him as he tipped his chin up. Instead of a kiss, I directed him to turn over and lifted my hips to allow him a small space to do so. My vision traced the enticing movement of his torso and shoulder blades.

With Tweek on his stomach, me on his butt, I addressed his back with the press of my hands, rubbing them into his shoulders. He was up on his elbows, body angled at a curve, strands of fair hair tickling the nape of his neck. I brushed them aside and massaged his skin, pleased when his head dropped. The dapple of lightly colored freckles there caught my eye and I inched closer to kiss them. My hands traveled down his spine against the ridges of his bones. I bit down on a small cluster of freckles and dug my digits into the small of his back, encompassing his slender waist as I sucked and wet his skin.

Unexpectedly, he reached his hand back and tucked his fingers into my hair, clenching and pulling me closer. His rough edge was appealing to me, the tug against my scalp influencing a harder suck and a firmer bite. My arms wrapped around his lithe form, fingertips drifting down the center of his chest. He exhaled audibly, deepening the bow of his back.

I sandwiched my hand between the floor and his stomach, stroking the skin of his navel in a rhythm that matched the working of my mouth against his shoulder. A noise containing more voice than breath reached my ears, reverberating throughout my head, effectively causing me to rotate my hips against his rear.

The gasp that followed had my stomach clenching and my hand shifted lower, warmed by rubbing against his skin and the carpet. Another soft, breathless sound and I had him in my palm, kneading and squeezing. I wasn't sure of when the last time I touched myself had been and it just hit me how horny I was. Maybe it had been building up until this point, accumulating. But Tweek was here and I could take it out on him. I nudged forward at the idea, pressing myself against his butt.

At the same time, I coaxed his hips to rise, adding friction to our proximity. He tightened his hold on my locks, nails pricking the roots of my hair. A shiver wrung my form as I gave the blonde a short thrust and let my breath out against the back of his neck. His shoulders trembled, head turning just before the rest of him followed. I accommodated for his repositioning by giving him a minimal amount of space while still remaining close, connecting our mouths and pushing at his knees to place myself between them.

As he reclined onto the floor—a hand on my nape holding me against him—I dutifully followed, hooking the backs of his knees to tug him forward until his thighs met the fronts of mine. There was something about the movement that charged him, inspired him. The blonde locked his legs behind me and arched into my chest, vigorously kissing me with tongue and teeth and breath.

I grabbed his hips and lifted them off the floor, slipping my hand around to grip his ass. He sputtered against my mouth, jerking against me in a way that rubbed us together provocatively. My fingers slipped beneath his clothing as I made to fix my hold on his rear, and I went with it, letting my hand slip underneath. A subtle, shaking moan broke the suction of our kiss and went straight to my arousal.

Alcohol must've made him noisy. I liked it.

Heat engulfed my body, racing through my veins, and I let it control me because it was rarely ever that it decided to present itself like this. I nipped at his lips, stroked the waistline of his only article, drifted further from sobriety. And Tweek reciprocated everything I did. He jostled his hips, snaked his arms around my neck, pulled at my hair, and couldn't even control the level of his breath as we kissed, multitasking on too many things to remember how to exhale through his nose. I could feel how hard he was and knew that everywhere my fingers went, they were always teasing him.

My own erection must've been sexually gratifying, grinding ceaselessly against his. The blonde wanted to be touched, wanted me to do things to him. It was thoughts like those that had me bracing myself against the floor with an elbow on either side of him. They left me panting and ridiculously turned on. Taking his knees and pushing against his legs, I leaned into him and found a spot where our bodies would be pressed flush together.

Tweek's hands slipped from my hair to my back, fingers grasping and nails biting as I rocked against him. This would be like sex, just with our clothes on. He would like it and I would like it and I moaned against the shell of his ear at how slowly I was moving for reasons I didn't know. It was nearly painful, but the blonde's broken noises were too attractive to give up. I could feel him trying to lift his hips to meet me even though I was already there.

"Craig," he gasped, raking his nails up to my shoulders. My head fell back as I lifted onto my palms and a moan dribbled from between my bruised lips. I wanted to be disappointed by the short version of my name, but those scratches had given me goosebumps. "Crai—" Cutting off, he inhaled sharply and responded naturally to the shift of my hips.

Hovering over him, I peered down, watching his eyelids flutter and his cheeks flush. "You," I started—and just the thought made me rock my body faster— "Can call me Craigifer."

He looked up at through his long lashes. His smile was fleeting and breathless. "So you like it when I call you that?"

"Mmm." The blonde met my thrust, fingers digging into my shoulders. "Mhmm." I nodded.

"Hnn," he breathed. "It turns you on?"

All I could feel was my heartbeat and the pounding throb of my arousal. It was like the more he talked, the more excited I became. Maybe this was a kink of mine and I just never knew it. "Yes," I confessed, wanting to hear him say it already.

For a second, he couldn't speak. Too overcome with rolling his hips, of leaching off the sensation and closing his eyes, turning his head to the side. "I thought—mm... I thought you were asexual."

Short of breath, I laughed and said, "Okay." I hung my head and hiked one of Tweek's thighs against my hip. "That's fair."

The slight alteration of our thrusts caused him to moan again. I relished in how much louder he was getting. "I'm just giving you...a hard time." Our repetitive rhythm was taking its full effect as he arched and sped up the motion of his hips. "I—fuck, this feels good." Every breath was a new sound and every sound made me grind a bit harder. He had the speed and I had the strength. He was right: it was a combination that felt so fucking good. "Oh—"

He pulled me down to him and used one of his hands to feel the movement of my thrusts, fingernails kneading into the skin at my waist. His mouth was against my ear, teeth nipping at my lobe but that wasn't what I wanted him to do, god damn it. I wanted him to say my name. I wanted him to moan it or scream it or whisper it—I didn't care. I just wanted to hear it from him and I wanted to hear it before I came.

"Try begging next time," he giggled.

The night ended with what had to have been the most anticlimactic, depressing orgasm I have ever had.

I'm not going to lie, I actually hate writing about nipples and I've never done it before so I'm really self-conscious about this entire scene now :P