I'm thinking that there might actually be a little bit of plot to this baby (: FOR FUCKING ONCE. Something else that I would like to mention is that I suggest reading Souls Be Damned by BloodMoonNights. It's a fabulous fanfiction and deserves more praise.

In my mind I am eloquent; I can climb intricate scaffolds of words to reach the highest cathedral ceilings and paint my thoughts. But when I open my mouth, everything collapses.

—Warm Bodies, Isaac Marion


Once Tweek had calmed down and received a mug of coffee, he looked at the time and suggested that we head out. We'd accumulated in the living room where I had met mom and dad as they passed through and had listened to Thomas ramble about the new online dating website he was currently testing. It'd been a good half hour before Tweek had finally declared that we head out.

At Thomas's proposition that we stay longer, Tweek snapped a pointed look in his direction that shut him up as quickly as he'd spoken. Tweek was then invited into the kitchen for a "coffee refill" where I knew talk of my wiener would commence.

That and I was getting some.

Or we were just going to make out in my car since we weren't allowed to do anything at his house.

Tweek wouldn't have wanted to leave otherwise. He'd been ecstatic to lecture his best friend about the cons of online dating.

I came first though, I guess.

Smirking smugly, I got up from my seat on the couch and eyed the blonde as he exited the kitchen. His cheeks had blossomed since he'd been in there. They totally talked about my dick.

"Ready?" I asked, grabbing my keys from my back pocket.

He wouldn't look at me as he nodded his head and fled for the front door.

Thomas was leaning against the threshold to the kitchen, grinning up at me. "You'll definitely want to break the ice by tricking him into walking in on you naked, because there is no way he's going to do it himself."

I was so excited it wasn't even funny. "You're an ass of a best friend," I said.

"Oh, I know." His grin became a smile. "He also gave you permission to kiss me."

My brows rose. "Like I do him?"

"You can kiss me however you want," he offered, slinking forward to press against me, hands crawling up my chest.

"Alright," I agreed, slipping a hand around the nape of his neck. "But no hair pulling." He'd lifted his heels off the floor and I was speaking against his lips. "That's Tweek's thing."

His arms twisted around my shoulders. "No hair pulling," he repeated, breathing the rule into my mouth. I sidled our lips together and had just applied enough suction to be able to rank the meeting of our mouths a kiss when he screamed, "Shit!"

Thomas sagged back to the floor where we let each other go. "That counts, right?" I asked, just to make sure.

"Yeah," he sighed, slouching further. "Fucking Tourette's."

Maybe it was all of the steam gone from my body that left enough room for laughter, but for whatever reason, that's what I was doing. "I love your Tourette's."

"I know," he replied just as woeful as before.

"I'll do your laundry tomorrow," I promised, heading for the door.

"Speaking of tomorrow." The golden blonde perked up a bit. "I'm not sure what we're doing yet, but everyone wants to hang out, so you and Tweek should come."

Actually, that was the worst idea anyone's ever come up with. Tweek would like it, though. "I'll mention it to him."

"Enjoy the rest of the night!" He called as I left.

It was a rather suggestive farewell, one that I attempted to pair with the blonde sitting in my car already with his seat belt on. The two made so little sense that I began to second guess my earlier assumption of getting some.


We were nearly at his house when he stated, "You didn't bring any extra clothes with you."

"Nope." At least the ones I had were clean. "I didn't think I'd be staying the night."

"If you n-need to, we can pick some up at Kenny's. You two are b-basically the same size." I glanced at him for a different reason than the one I got. I'd only done it to do it, but what I found was a pink stain on either of his cheeks instead. "I-I mean—"

Internally I was suffocating with laughter. This was just too fucking funny. Soon, Tweek would be saying things like: "I'm feeling a little spermy—I mean squirmy" or "Looks like we're finally dome—I mean home."

"Doesn't he live with Marsh?" At the blonde's affirmative nod I said, "Yeah. I think I'll pass."

Tweek gave me a look like he'd both expected that and thought I was exaggerating. "I don't know what your guys' problem is. You got along that time we went out to dinner."

That particular occasion hadn't been what I'd call "getting along". The blonde had clearly misunderstood my intentions, and I didn't want him to think me and his turd buddy were on good terms, so I was going to let him know exactly what that dinner meant. "How much crap does he give you for crushing on me?" When silence ensued, I asked, "How much more crap would he have given you if I'd been a dick to him?"

"Oh."

I made a face like yeah.

There was a lull in our conversation that Tweek probably thought of as awkward because he found it necessary to clear his throat to get my attention. I hummed to let him know he had it. "Are you...tired...at all?" He shifted uncomfortably and fumbled with his fingers. "Like, d-do you just want to go back to my place?"

A subtle smirk met my lips. "If you're proposing I stop the car, then just say so."

"I'm not," he said, blushing profusely. "I-I was going to suggest you take us to Stark's Pond."

"Stark's Pond," I repeated, mulling over the idea. "You're taking me on a date, aren't you?"

He rolled his eyes and snorted. "Sure. God knows I've always wanted to."

His blatant statement brought a conceited grin out of me. "Then let's stop and get some food first."

"What?" Tweek snapped his head in my direction. "You're being serious?" As I nodded my head, a brilliant smile transformed his expression into something fond and excited. "Okay," he chirped, wistful sounding.

"Let's get pizza then." I made a U-ey and headed toward the town plaza. Clyde had once gotten a job at the in-and-out pizza joint down there and I hadn't had it since. That was probably around six years ago. He'd bring the leftovers to Token's and we'd spend all night barreling down slices because there had been a lot of pizza back then.

One time he'd spiked Token's portion since our best friend wasn't prone to drugs of any kind. He'd been so blazed with the worst munchies that we'd given him what we hadn't eaten of our leftovers and called it a fair apology. Poor lad hasn't done marijuana since.

"You want to get pizza for our date?" Tweek inquired, double-checking my decision.

Nodding my head, I explained my reason in short. "You threw up this morning and haven't eaten anything today except for a slice of bread. You need to eat something greasy."

"Fine. But no sausage or pepperoni." After pondering his restrictions for a moment, he added, "Or bacon."

"Half pepperoni," I bargained.

"Buy me a side salad and I'll think about it."

You a little shit. "Okay."


What ended up happening was one pizza, one side salad, juice because Tweek wasn't big on soda, and absolutely no meat anywhere.

"Are you going to be this pushy every time we go on a date?" As I asked this, I laid back in the grass and balanced on my elbows. The light hues in the sky were easing west, and from the east, colder tones were drifting closer. It was almost as though the approaching shadows made the air thicker, turning the fresh smell of uncontaminated nature into a deep scent.

A chill was buried beneath the dirt, this familiar temperature that was always at the core of my bones. It coiled through the stalks of grass and brushed against my skin in an attempt to join with the one in my body but Lakewood was in the way. There was a furnace emitting normalcy up there and it was churning in my veins, opposing that of my hometown. I couldn't be two places at once and the only place I'd ever be now was Lakewood because where Stripe is, I am. And he was there, so I was too.

If I offended South Park, I couldn't tell. Maybe if the pines had been snow capped, they'd look angry. Maybe if the pond had been frozen over, it'd resemble fury. Except the weather was nice and even if I didn't want it, I think I was being greeted. This town was too small to disown its own kind, even if I was one of the few who'd betrayed it by sneaking away. Tweek must've helped my case being the South Park seedling that he was. He was what allowed me passage without consequence.

"I'm not being pushy," he said, leaning over to grin down at me. There was a halo of sky around his head and a second making up his wild hair. His teeth were all wide and straight, his eyes just the same. They were vibrant, energized by the adoration he had to have been feeling. He was on a date with me, of course that was what he'd be feeling. It was an emotion ranked high above the others.

"No?" He shook his head, blonde locks fluttering around, and bit down on his bottom lip, muted rose pinched white. "Then where's the pepperoni on my pizza?"

"I don't want to k-kiss you when there's meat on your breath." As though it would woo me, he pouted and the color returned to his jutted lip.

"Who said I'd be kissing you?"

His eyebrows knit and his jaw dropped. "Okay. Maybe I am pushy. I said you'd be kissing me." He lowered onto an elbow and reduced the proximity between us. The tips of our noses brushed and his breath puffed against my mouth. All of the little sensations he was producing were enticing.

I tilted my head, attentive to the way his gaze dropped to rest on my lips. I could practically feel it hovering there and inclined my chin to kiss him.

He smirked and carefully turned away before rising entirely. There was a flirtatious glint in his eyes as he backed away, bare feet stepping slowly from toe to heel. Arms akimbo, the blonde tugged at the first button on his cardigan and pulled it through the hole. His fingers fell to the next, and I watched his retreating form in a state of unconcealed interest. The sliver of his chest that grew with the loss of each button had me rising to my palms, curiosity in the squint of my eyes.

Once the two halves of his cardigan were separated, he turned around and let it slip from his shoulders. The blades of his back were prominent, his waist slender, torso lengthy. I didn't expect it when he left the article in the grass, taken aback by the act because it was reckless for Tweek. He liked folded clothes, not ones left on the ground.

"What are you doing?" I asked, raising my voice so he'd hear me.

"Getting in the water!" He called over his shoulder. By the way his arms were bent, I could tell he was undoing his jeans.

"What about food?" Even though I asked this, I got up and followed him to the pond's edge.

"We'd have to wait t-thirty minutes" —I couldn't not laugh at his precaution— "and it'll be too dark by then."

After a quick glance back at me, he let go of his jeans and wiggled his legs a bit before stepping out of them. The way he kicked them aside emphasized this "rebelliousness" he seemed to be feeling because only Tweek would think of rebellious as dropping his clothes on the grass and leaving them there.

Entertained, I hummed at his little display and asked, "Are you skinny dipping?"

This time it was him who was laughing. "I wouldn't let you see me n-naked this morning, so what makes you think I will now?"

"Change of heart?" I supposed, reaching back for the collar of my shirt. As I grabbed it and pulled it over my head, butchering whatever style my hair had been in, Tweek's knuckles grazed my stomach. He was taking off my pants for me, removing the button and pulling down the zipper. It was quite a bold gesture and I had to wonder what had gotten into him that he needed to act so coquettish, but I was content and thought that maybe he didn't need to have any reason at all. Not with the crush he had on me.

The blonde grabbed my hands just as I stepped out of my jeans and pulled me further toward the pond. I listened to the splash of his feet sinking into the water and was captivated by the sudden shift of his features. His eyes grew large, curling lashes brushing the bone of his brow, and a sharp gasp sputtered through the part of his full lips. It changed rapidly into a fleeting smile when we made eye contact.

"Cold?" I asked.

He nodded his head but continued backing into the pond regardless. "Good t-thing I didn't get naked," he sniggered.

I stepped into the water, feet wrapped to the ankle in a bitter chill. My toes sunk into loose dirt, kicking up muck and stirring organic plants. "Yeah," I agreed. "I don't regret taking off my drawers just to freak you out."

Tweek gave me a look more severe than the temperature of the pond. "That's not funny."

"That's too bad." I pushed against his hands strong enough to thrust him waist deep into the water.

His expression expanded for a second time, flashing in overt shock. "F—huh—ck!" He saw me trod forward and tripped backwards, holding his hands up and screaming, "Wait! Wait! I can't go any farther than this! I don't know how to swim!" I cocked my head to the side, eyebrows raised. "N-no dunking either! I get s-scared under water."

Of course. Tweek Tweak wouldn't be Tweek Tweak if he knew how to swim. That much I should've guessed. "But it's okay for you to dunk me, right?" His smile was unstable in spots, not nearly as put together as it should be. "Because I know you're going to try."

My continuous strides were terrifying him and he ogled up at me defenseless as I encircled his waist with my hands and hoisted him up where he reached out and scrabbled with slippery fingers against my shoulders to find purchase there, his legs around my back, thighs pressed tight against my hips. His nails were biting into my skin as he clung to me, eyes relentlessly large. He was so scared and it was so cute.

"Be careful with me!" The blonde wailed, the hand of one arm wrapped clear around my opposite shoulder. He grabbed me by the jaw, fingers scratching at the bone and brought us nose to nose as he looked me straight in the eye. His command came slow as though his words and I were trudging through the same water. "Do not drop me."

The grave seriousness of his tone made me crack a grin. "I've got you," I assured him, slipping my arms around his back. His body was so flush against my own that I could almost link my elbows together.

"Are you s-sure?" His voice lost its threatening edge, now barely a whimper. Humming undoubtedly, I squeezed his sides and slid forward, bringing the waterline to my ribs. "W-where are you taking us?" At my answer of a little farther out, he said, "I've never been that far. I've never been this far."

"It'll be fine." He peered over his shoulder and came back around looking unconvinced. "It's only fifteen feet deep. We won't be going that far, though."

"Fifteen feet?" His echo was shaking. "That's t-two of you, dude!"

I chuckled amusedly, flattered. "I'm not that tall."

"H-how tall are you?" He asked, gazing at me curiously. It was a mixture of distraction's sake and honest eagerness to know.

"Six-four." The cold grazed my collarbones and Tweek's pectorals. A shiver brought goosebumps to his skin.

His mouth worded a silent, "Oh." It took him a moment to compose himself before he stated, "You're almost a foot taller than me."

A grin stretched across my lips as I drifted around in a circle, going no deeper into the pond. "Do you like that?"

"Yeah," he admitted bashfully, blushing and turning his eyes away. "You've always been t-tall."

"That's what having an ogre as a dad gets you." Something about my utterly honest fact got him to crack up laughing, easing his tension of being in the water and allowing him to give on the vice grip he had on me. I could feel the indents of his fingernails in my skin, a sharp sensation that I was undeniably attracted to. "Speaking of my dad," I mused lightly so as not to spook him. "Free coffee?"

For a mere second the blonde made a defensive face as though he could lie about my mother's words. In the same second he realized he couldn't and settled for blushing furiously as a replacement expression.

"I..." His features took on all of those slight downfalls that I'd seen in him the first time I saw him in my studio arts class. "If I ignored him then—I don't know. You would've been gone entirely, y-you know? I just—I couldn't do it. It helped me—...f-fuck." I got the impression that he'd just said something he hadn't meant to. He bit his lip hard as punishment.

"What did it help you do?" The blonde shook his head and bit down harder. Tears sprung to his eyes, not from his mistake but the pain. "Tweek." I raised a hand and pushed my thumb against the dip of his chin. He released his lip, albeit unwillingly.

To keep him from attacking it again, I brought his face closer and licked at his abused lip. His breath hitched for an instant before he turned my lick into a kiss. It was hurried and rough, his fingers curling in the hair at the nape of my neck. My arms urged him closer and his legs hugged me tighter. A mewling sound slipped between our mouths and the blonde's other hand presented itself by caressing my jaw, thumb stroking my cheek.

He tore our kiss in half, pressing our foreheads together. His bottom lip was between his teeth again, this time as he sucked on it. I watched his eyes close and scrunch as though he were hurt, patient as he sorted himself out. "It helped me..." His eyes blinked open. "It helped me cope."

"Giving my dad free coffee helped you cope when I moved?"

His head shook at my inability to understand, keeping our foreheads together as he did. "I've liked you for a long time, Craig." He scoffed at himself as much as he did me. "A-and I have attachment issues. I didn't mean to and I don't know how I did but I attached myself to you and I-I couldn't get rid of it and then you moved and I didn't understand b-because I thought you were always going to be here and I was going to be okay with just—with being n-near you even if I was nothing to you but you were g-gone and I—"

Tweek was breathing heavily, brows knit together like he didn't understand anymore than he did when I left. His fingers were both digging into my skin and trembling, eyes flickering with too many emotions that I couldn't comprehend and just enough that I could vividly interpret that he needed to calm down. I'd lost something once and I didn't want the blonde to remember it just like I didn't want to remember it.

Different occasions, same basic anguish. It could put you in a funk that was difficult to remove yourself from. Art was my neutralizer to the acidic burn of permanent absence, but Tweek was far more complicated than me even if my absence hadn't been as permanent as other circumstances. I needed something that would penetrate these damaged bits of himself which had resurfaced, something significant that he could use to comfort himself.

I let go of him for a split second until our faces were level and he was resting low on my hips. The sudden drop harnessed his attention, causing his eyes to widen and his mouth to part. "It's okay," I told him. But I didn't know what else to say. Consolidation wasn't simple when I had to do it verbally. "It's—you—uh." My brows furrowed. "I...can't think of anything besides that."

The blonde's face was no longer as deflated as it was blank.

Well, shit.

There was a look of concentration tightening my features together. I could feel it residing there and disapproved of it greatly. Still, no words of reassurance came to mind. "Uh."

A smile spontaneously lifted Tweek's expression. He tilted his head to the side, bangs falling across his forehead and giggled. "Don't worry," he murmured. "I think it's cute."

"You think everything I do is cute," I chastised.

Nodding his head, he sidled closer and warmed himself up with the proximity of my body heat. "Why else would I h-have a crush on you?"

"Because I'm handsome." Tweek hummed affirmatively. "And I'm an artist." Again, he hummed. "What about my full name?"

When he spoke it, he did so in a tone of adoration. "Craigifer Drew."

Internally, I purred. "I'm tall," I added.

"Six-four," he quietly recollected, stroking the nape of my neck with his wet, cold fingers.

The sensation induced goosebumps to rise along my arms. "My winning personality."

"Oh, yes. Definitely that," he agreed.

"My hips," I drawled, swaying gently, causing ripples to drift throughout the water.

Tweek grinned. "That's true, too."

"Basically my entire existence." He rolled his eyes at that, but brought out faces close until our noses were brushing. The look on his face contrasted so drastically to just previously that I had to wonder if it was just me, or if this was some type of bipolar tendency of his. I didn't think he was bipolar, though. If that was the case, then I hadn't been informed. And if this was true, then I was going to be insulted.

"You're lucky I think your ego is cute, too. Otherwise I wouldn't be t-telling you any of this." One of his hands dipped into the water, rising to scatter droplets of liquid across my forehead while he ran his fingers through my hair, pushing any fallen strands back into place. His fingertips ghosted across my temple, trailing down the side of my face and pressing against my jawline as his thumb followed the line of my nose, the indention above my mouth, and then my lips themselves.

I watched him as he did this, investigating me almost. A peculiar emotion was vivaciously apparent in his green eyes, though I couldn't determine what it was. There was a somber note to them, his lips curved into a delicate smile. The two weren't necessarily opposites, but it wasn't like they matched. It made my fingers itch as I looked at this boy who I always, always wanted to draw because he could make expressions into juxtapositions like this. I liked this ability of his immensely and that was why my interest in him wasn't able to cease.

"What are you thinking?" I asked, listening as he returned his hand to the water. It resurfaced, dampening my shoulder when his palm smoothed over my skin.

He took a moment to reconnect our gazes, eyes slowly trekking up the expanse of my face. "Why do you want to know?"

The blonde was being coy, idly spreading water across my collarbones. "So I'll know why you have that look on your face."

His cheeks grew heated, hand stilling momentarily. "I-I'm just thinking about you."

"Clearly," I snorted. "You're looking right at me. What is it you're thinking about me exactly?"

"Nothing," Tweek grumbled, glancing away. As he rubbed the yielding groove between my collarbones, he added, "I'm t-trying to figure out why it's you."

Why...it was me. My jaw felt thick when I swallowed. How come that had sounded distinctly like a love confession? "You mean why you like me?"

"Yeah." The tension within my body dispersed. "I don't understand why I'm attracted to the things you are." Haughtiness filled in the spaces my tension had vacated as Tweek inquired, "Is it easy being asexual?"

No. Because I'm fine until I get people like you who show up and then my sexuality suddenly wants to reconsider what makes for good boner material. "I'm not religiously asexual, so no, not really. Usually" —it was because of him that I had to say this— "I'm only sexually active when I'm not sober."

"You're a horny drunk. I know," he sniggered.

Hey, I wanted to say. I could've fucked you. Instead, what came out was: "Whenever anything like that happens, I get a little disappointed in myself because I want to be asexual. It's easy to forget that when I'm drunk, though."

Tweek made a face that resembled a grimace. "Did—uh. Did you feel that way after uhm...w-we did...things?" His expression registered as a look that wasn't regretful, but ashamed and embarrassed.

That hadn't been what I'd meant at all. "No."

The way he bit his lip was an attempt to cover his dainty smile. "O-okay."

"Besides," I said. "We've done plenty sober so I think it's safe to assume that this isn't me being a horny drunk."

He opened his mouth to speak, closing it immediately as though he'd rethought what he'd been about to say. "What?" The blonde shook his head. "I just told you that the epitome of what everyone thinks about me as is false. You have to tell me, dude."

"Well, I don't want to know the answer anymore s-so just forget it," he contritely answered.

My cheeks puffed out indignantly. "Maybe you'll like the answer."

"N-no." His explanation was a near inaudible mumble beneath his breath. "I don't think you know the answer."

I grinned crookedly. "Oh?" He nodded his head. "Come on."

Sighing reproachfully—he must've been honestly curious for having such a flimsy declination—he asked me, "If this isn't you b-being a horny drunk, then what is it?"

Today was not my day. That's what it was.

I wet my lips and looked down at the water, staring at the splintered appearance of our skin and wondering how much brain matter I'd have to use up if I wanted to go back in time. "Are you going to be upset if I don't know?"

"Of course not," Tweek sighed, obviously relieved. "I'd m-much rather hear that than some other things."

Other things like rejection, disinterest, amusement. This wasn't any of those things, though. In actuality, it was a very odd topic for me. I didn't know where to look or how to react. I knew I should remain stoic but there was unease in my chest and this unfamiliar territory was uncomfortable. It was that and not being able to provide for Tweek. He'd said he was okay with my response, but that hadn't been what he'd wanted to hear. I wasn't capable of telling him what he wanted to hear.

"Hey." The blonde tapped the underside of my chin, encouraging me to look at him. His smile was soft, pliable if I wanted it to be. I could destroy it far too simply because that was the range of capability he had give me. It was like I had ammunition in my head and in my mouth and if I wanted to think it and then say it, I could kill him emotionally. That he would even allow something like that was unbelievable to me.

This was the stuff that people put up with and this was why I wanted to live asexually and apathetically. No sexual desire. No need for a companion. No useless hurt. And honestly, people did it to themselves. It was masochism.

"You have a look on your face," he said. "What are you thinking?"

"Am I hurting you?" I asked, looking at his eyes to see brimming confusion and disintegrating confidence. He had to ask me what I meant, looking around to see if I was holding a knife to his back or something. "Is what we're doing hurting you? This thing between us."

It dawned on him, the meaning of what he'd questioned, and as his features paled, his eyes honed in on my own. I could tell that he had to swallow but it was rough going down. "Craig," he murmured warily. "No. No, it—I'm fine. I'm not hurting. Craig, it'll—it'll hurt if we stop. Where we are is fine. I-If this is as far as you can go, I'm okay with that. I don't—we—"

Chastely pecking his mouth, I said "Okay," and returned my face to its neutral expression. His bewilderment seemed to have multiplied at my quick acceptance. He was breathing heavily again, desperation having singed the edges of his tone. "That's all I wanted to know, Tweek. It's okay."

"Okay," he repeated, uncertain, checking my eyes in case he saw differently.

"I'm going to take us back." At the nod of his head, I started towards the shallow edge we'd come in at.

My body had grown accustomed to the temperature of the water, although not moving for so long had stiffened my joints and muscles. Movement was working sensation back into limbs, so that when I set Tweek back onto his feet, the majority of my agility had been restored. My only hindrance was the muggy pond water.

That's why I'd been able to dodge the blonde's attack and keep myself from getting dunked. "You little shit! I told you that you were going to try to do that!" He came at me again, laughing as he slipped on the algae and aquatic plants. Our chests collided and the stinging slap of wet skin on skin was like that of getting whipped with a wet towel. Instead of a measly chunk, though, this covered a large expanse.

I had to lunge to get away from him, thrusting my legs through the water until I was about waist deep where I stopped and turned around. Tweek was laughing hysterically at what had to have been the funniest thing, although I didn't know what. "I tried to run so fast just now!" He cried, holding a hand to his chest as his laughter refrained from dying. He about right where I'd left him.

His futile attempt to catch up got me to crack a smile. "Run faster," I suggested just to see if he'd try to do it.

"Fuck that," he giggled. "I c-call a truce. Is that possible?"

"Sure. Just give me one good reason why I shouldn't chase you around the pond."

"Because I'm a turtle?" He offered, smiling sweetly from across the water.

Accept turtle or chase him around the pond? "What kind of turtle?" If I got the correct specification, I'd go easy on him.

"A gay turtle," was what he muttered, moving slug-like on his way toward me.

"Eh." I shrugged indifferently. "Close enough."

"Close enough?" He barked, lashing out at me with a splash of water. "W-what else was I supposed to say?"

"Uh—turtle that enjoys cock. Or turtle that likes buttsex. I mean, come on." I held my arms out for emphasis, water dripping from my wrists.

Tweek scoffed and flung more water at me. "Sorry I forgot that 'gay' doesn't entail much love for cock or the participation of buttsex."

"Whoa there, kid." I was given a humorless stare when I pointed at him. "Don't get too excited there. You don't participate in buttsex and so you are a terrible gay turtle."

"Fine. I don't participate in buttsex, I just greatly appreciate it. But only because I value my virginity." Now that was something I could laugh at. Tweek glared at me, his transgression throughout the pond slow but steady. "What's s-so funny?"

"You don't value your virginity. You only care about keeping your cherry safe and sound so that it'll still be there by the time I get to you," I corrected, smug when he blushed and scowled vehemently.

The next splash he directed at me actually connected with my chest. "Shut up! Don't talk about my virginity like it belongs to you, C-Craig!"

But I was still laughing even when I held my arms up and roared, "I am the bearer of the virginity of Tweak!"

"No" —there was a rough slosh but I figured Tweek was just trying to splash me— "you're" —an identical noise jarred me from my stupor— "not!"

I'd just managed to glance in his direction when I saw him leap towards me. He made to push down on my head and finally dunk me, but I pivoted on my heels, and grabbed him by the shoulders where he hadn't been able to do quite the same to me. The grime beneath my feet was too slippery and I lost my footing, balance nonexistent.

My hold on Tweek had him attached to me as I fell. Our bodies were aimed toward the shallow edge, and even as we landed, I could still hear his scream. Water engulfed us but not enough to cover us entirely, leaving our heads and a portion of our chests above surface. The wave we created drenched us; cold water hit my face and snuck up on my nose. Positioned above me, Tweek was given a significantly smaller blow, though still soaked.

His next tactic had me second guessing my reaction to his prior jump and whether or not he'd actually been meaning to dunk me because now he was kissing me. His lips were wet from the water and rivulets from his body came into contact with my own. Our legs were positioned in a pattern, and all of that talk about virginity must've gotten me a bit excited, because my leg wasn't patient as it pressed between his thighs. My arms were just the same as they brought him down to my level.

The blonde arched into me, slick chest slipping as it rubbed against mine. His breath was already ragged, tongue seeking the confines of my mouth as he inhaled sharply through his nose and dug his fingers into my wet hair. He massaged the back of my head, the nape of my neck, thumbs kneading the spaces behind my ears. My tongue rolled with his, practically able to taste the untamable arousal he'd been unexpectedly possessed by. It was raw and brazen, contradicting Tweek's naturally timid characteristics.

This wasn't anything he'd ever instigated before. I thought to myself that maybe he was reinforcing this thing between us, ensuring that neither of us were going to put a stop to it. Or perhaps it was a challenge. He could've been testing me or even admonishing me for teasing him. Maybe he was choosing to play hard to get. Like maybe he would back away and leave me aroused for a second time. I should've never taught him about that seduction technique.

Tweek had me clueless as his greedy mouth unwound from my own and began to lick and suck at the water coating my skin. The graze of his tongue was tempting against my jawline, and to inspire him, I ran my hands down the length of his back, felt the damp texture of his protruding bones beneath my fingers. My touch was aggressive, pulling and clenching at his lithe body and sharp bones. I was enthralled by his hips when I reached them, squeezing their slippery exterior and intrigued by how finely I could cup them in my palms.

Repeatedly my fingers would slide beneath the waistband of his clothing as I rubbed, almost finding a permanent place there when the blonde shifted his hips against my hands and pressed his crotch against my own. I exhaled evenly in an attempt to stave off the heat coiling down my spine, but couldn't manage control of both that and my fingers as they went around Tweek's rear and climbed beneath the water-saturated fabric stuck to the backs of his thighs. His immediate response was to recline against them, brushing ourselves together while his mouth clamped down around a section of my throat, sucking fervently.

As his teeth tugged my skin, I grabbed his bare ass and lifted my lower half. A breathless noise came from the back of his throat as my hands directed his hips to grind against mine. My eyelids fluttered at a sensation I was so used to when it was drunk and obscure, not sober and intense. "Move your leg," I ordered, squeezing his right cheek for emphasis. He groaned low and slow, situating himself so that he was straddling my waist, the enticing splash of his leg in the water echoing through my ears. I continued to lure him into rolling his hips, holding our abdomens together seamlessly as I thrust to meet his body.

He mewled suggestively, nails sinking into the roots of my hair. My breath came out noisy from the feel of them coupled with the nip of his teeth, his wet skin in my hands and the steady rub of our erections. The heat inside my body was turning the water tepid, progressively increasing in temperature as my ears picked up the sound of subtle sloshing. Tweek's legs spread wider as my grip on his rear tightened, the movement of his hips roughened. Another noise drizzled from his mouth along with an audible gasp. His fingers fisted my hair as his lips abused my throat, quiet noises simultaneously occurring with the rocking of his body. He sounded like he was caught up in his act and our act, too involved to rein himself in. He sounded like he wanted more.

The pond stones beneath me were cushioned by the water, and I didn't think Tweek would mind laying on top of them, so I twisted us around, putting him on his back. He broke away from my neck and gazed up at me with half-mast eyes and flushed cheeks, lashes clumped together with liquid. I leaned down and kissed his lips, wanting them to bruise from what I was going to do to them. My hands shifted up his thighs, spreading to encompass his slender legs before rubbing them to coax a reaction out of him. The sigh that slipped between our kiss was what I wanted.

I felt him reach for me, palms laying flat against my shoulders before easing down. His fingers smoothed out across my pectorals, slipped around my ribcage, ran over my stomach, and the entire time my skin was shivering. A shaky breath was drawn from his warm figure as he traced the shape of my hips, explored their curve and remembered what he liked so much about them. I watched as he into bit his lip and pulled me closer, huffing at the touch of our clothed arousals mingling. He arched his back, strands of hair catching in the water, and pressed down on my waist to achieve a firmer feeling. His hips rotated tentatively, his first familiar action so far, causing his breath to hitch and eyelids to flutter. I lifted myself up until just the tips of our erections grazed each other.

A spike of pleasure shot through me and I had to grab the sodden earth beneath me to keep from jerking my body. Tweek moaned, chin inclining as his blush spread across his nose. I'd felt unbearably sensitive in that moment but did it again because I couldn't stop myself from indulging in the sight of the blonde beneath me. I was the only one he'd show these responses to or make these noises for. He'd wanted this—me—for so long. He'd been so patient. That knowledge was flattering and arousing, seductive.

His fingers squeezed my hips, thumbs rubbing circles against the bone. I hummed favorably and lowered down onto my elbows to kiss him. There was an attractive tenderness to his lips and he complied eagerly to the intrusion of my tongue. Straying from my hips, the blonde scratched the skin around my naval and followed the line of hair below. A tempestuous desire burned in the wake of his fingertips; my shoulders hunched, forehead dropping against the blonde's. His hand disappeared beneath my boxer-briefs and wrapped around my arousal. He stroked my shaft, fingers soft and warm, allowing for a deep-throated grunt to release itself from my chest.

This, I hadn't expected. Not after this morning with my pushy advances and his prude behavior. I would've been fine with that, though. With dry humping only, because we were only going to do what he wanted to do. These encounters were for him. But a hand job was quite a pleasant surprise. I most certainly didn't mind his generous ministrations. And that's when I realized that Tweek wasn't challenging or testing or admonishing me. He was apologizing. My sexual satisfaction was his version of sorry.

"Cute," I commented, voice breathy. The blonde slipped his fingers up toward the base of my arousal before climbing back down. He repeated the action, drawing heat with the motion of his hand. It was summoned from my stomach and pooled in my groin.

Tweek smiled, eyes glittering as they flit across my face. "I thought y-you'd appreciate it."

My features must've been turned on: hair dripping down my temples and between my eyes, dilated pupils, parted lips, short bursts of breath passing through them. I could imagine my own chest rising rhythmically and in rapid increments.

"Just" —his grip tightened, fingers pressed close to my heated flesh— "mmm, just a little bit."

"I can always s-stop if you want," he teased.

The chuckle that came out of me was gravel-toned and husky. It was hard to think of a response. "I'm sure that'll be fun until I get you back."

He grinned viciously, the potent emotion in his eyes cutting through the fog muddling my own. "You're too soft on me to do that, Craig."

What was up with him and becoming an arrogant prick when boners were involved? "Would you like to see just how soft I can go on you?" I asked, fully prepared to abolish my erection.

His eyelids lowered, lashes darkening the minty color of his eyes. He bit his lip and held in an uneven breath. I seriously wanted to know where all of this was coming from because it was sending heat straight to my dick and it wasn't fair at all.

"Craigifer," he murmured, stroking my shaft in collaboration with my full name. There was no keeping the moan from my throat or the thrust I gave to his hand. "Is it r-really that smart" —he gave my burning length a short tug— "to fuck with me?"

Holy mother of God. It was the control. He had a control complex and it was going to his head and he was going to do sinful things to me.

"You—hah—suck," I growled, rotating against his fingers.

"That's funny. It doesn't feel like I s-suck."

My jaw tightened as I thought myself, No. This little gay boy with absolutely no experience was not going to best me.

"Hey!" He shrieked, immediately losing his bluff when my hand pressed down on his abdomen. "W-wait—" I snuck my hand beneath his soaked clothing, bypassed his erection entirely, and went straight for his balls. A darker shade of pink erupted across his cheeks as I cupped one of the most private, untouched parts of his body. I moaned into his ear, concocting a sound that wasn't necessarily false but very persuasive.

His back arched, fingers unintentionally clamping down around my arousal as he made this needy, breathless noise that sent a shudder wracking through my body. It made my erection throb. I glanced down to spectate his work, saw myself straining against the fabric of my boxer-briefs plastered to my legs and the cut of his wrist where his hand continued to move inside.

We were done with the teasing and the talking. Tweek wouldn't be able to formulate a coherent sentence. This was a new sensation for him and he wasn't going to take long to orgasm. My eyes focused on his own crotch, the concealed bulge and his smooth, shaved skin above that. I wanted to see him naked, was trying to piece together the rest of his body in my head. It was beginning to turn into a craving despite the thought having merely lingered on the outskirts of my mind since the first time I had intimately touched him.

I wanted to push the wet material of his clothing away. I didn't want to wonder. I wanted to know. His breathy sighs and scrunched expression every time he moaned were making the idea ridiculously tempting. But I distracted myself by paying rapt attention to the recurrent stroke of his fingers. He's being nice, I had to tell myself. He just called you Craigifer. Don't ruin it by ripping his underwear off.

The worst part was that I couldn't even take mine off, itchy and uncomfortable as they were. What I needed was a better distraction, to focus on something that wasn't nudity. "Hey," I grunted, removing my hand from his bottoms. "Let me show you something."

As I made to reach for his hand and my erection, he smacked it away. "I—I want to do it myself!"

"I know." He let me grab his hand and place my fingers over his own. "I'm just—" I maneuvered his thumb across the sensitive tip of my arousal, smearing the pre-come collected there, causing a jolt of pleasure to course through me, stoking the fire licking the walls of my stomach. "...Hah."

My hand returned to his crotch, sliding between his thighs and coiling around his length. The blonde's back arched, eyes fluttering closed. He shifted against the pond rocks, creating slight waves that rippled around his body. I did to him what I'd had him do to me, passing the pad of my thumb over the head of his erection. Hissing, he dug his nails into my back and stroked my shaft vigorously, matching the measured movement of how I was touching him.

We thrust into each others hands, coincidentally at the same time, and Tweek began giggling. The sound broke in his mouth and came out a vocal sigh through his lips. He rotated his hips again, grazing the underside of my flesh. I rubbed myself against his fingers, groaning at the soft texture of his skin. The blonde squeezed me earnestly and quickened the pace.

Tweek's change in speed left me panting against his mouth, nose brushing his cheek. I applied the same momentum to his arousal to share in the feeling he was causing me, smirking at his moan and rough kiss. He was sloppy as he thrust into my hand and his unravelling had me undergoing the same process. His hushed sounds were making my erection pulse, the pressure of his nails again my skin stimulating. Fog permeated throughout my head and heat spiraled inside of my body.

It was when I dug my thumb into the slit on the tip of his arousal that he shuddered beneath me, arching at a strict angle. He came against my palm and I watched his head tip back, exposing his slender neck. A choked noise was expelled through his parted, swollen lips.

Seeing him react to the pleasure turned my insides into a scalding mess of built up sexual tension. Last night, this morning, my name on his tongue—it was all coalescing in the most desirable way. The next curl of his fingers acted on my heightened sensitivity, and my mouth parted as a harsh grunt was torn from my chest.

I shot into his hand, stomach quivering and nerve endings sizzling.

My joints loosened on my next breath and I was hyperaware of the heartbeat pounding against my ribcage.

When my eyes opened, the first thing I saw through my bleary vision was Tweek staring at his hand. He was holding it between our bodies, gaze half fascinated half fearful. I couldn't see the semen coating his palm, but I noticed a few droplets on his chest as well of a trail of it dripping down his wrist.

If he was disgusted, I couldn't tell. I wasn't sure whether or not hand jobs were too dirty for his germophobic ideals. At the moment, he might've wanted to flee and bathe in boiling water.

It startled him when he eventually noticed me, and glanced between his hand and my face, seeming to contemplate something. An embarrassed blush colored his cheeks before he quickly dropped his hand into the water and whipped off his chest.

"Have you never seen semen before?" I asked, meaning to joke with him.

Quite seriously, he said, "N-not really. I was just—I mean, uh—nothing. I was nothing."

"You were nothing." I nodded my head. "Alright."

"No. Ugh. God." He growled and looked away. My brows rose at his flustered state. "I was—gah...damn it. You know?"

"What?"

"I was—" he said, twisting his hands around. "I don't want to be surprised or throw up or something when—uh." His hands repeated their flinging motion.

A grin settled on my lips. He had been about to taste it. "You mean when you give me a blow job?"

After looking in either direction quite a bit, Tweek's ultimate answer was, "Y-yes." I opened my mouth to respond and was prematurely interrupted. "Can you flip us over?"

Complying, I caved in on my side and brought us around until he was on top of me. The shallow water rocked against my sides. He'd just wanted to lay his head on my chest so that he wouldn't have to look at me. I rested my arms against the small of his back, content.

"Was that...okay? It didn't suck, did it?" He could be the oddest combination of modest and straightforward sometimes.

"You were just about to stick a handful of my jizz in your mouth. I think you did a pretty good job, Tweek."


IMPORTANT NOTE: I thought that if anyone felt similarly to this reviewer that I should go ahead and explain publicly. TheMysticalQ asked me, "One thing confuses me, though: Craig has made where he stands on relationships very clear. Tweekers knows that they aren't his thing, so wouldn't that kind of discourage him from trying to be with Craig?"

I would desperately hope that this chapter resolved at least some of your confusion ^^; This isn't really something that I've gone into depth with. My story is moving so sluggishly that I fear I will never get to that point! But I've told everyone where Craig stands - no fucking relationships - and where Tweek stands - I am obsessed with you, be my boyfriend - but all of the stuff that's like a middle ground where both of them can be satisfied with their relationship without growing too uncomfortable is murky at best. They are definitely still working on that part.

I like to think that Craig is conflicted at this point, though. He might very well legitimately fear intimate relationships - who knows - but Tweek is so desperate for some kind of confirmation and reassurance, and Craig's impulse is to provide these things for Tweek, so I think he's beginning to realize that he might need to relent a little bit in order to even keep Tweek around, because eventually a person is going to get frustrated when they're constantly denied what is literally right there. So at least Tweek is aware of their potential as a couple!

And as for Tweek - also I've realized that I'm starting to explain way more than I need to - it's the fact that he does know relationships aren't Craig's thing that he continues to persist with whatever the fuck it is that he's unfortunately stuck doing. He understands that a relationship isn't something that Craig is interested in but he does know that Craig is interested in him, so he thinks that maybe they can have a relationship and commit to each other without actually calling it a relationship. Also, this poor faggot has nothing else going for him in his life. Let's be honest here. Hahaha.