Soundtrack: Daylight – Matt & Kim
"I don't understand why we have to spend our Saturday doing this," Craig complains from the passenger's seat.
Tweek flexes his fingers on the steering wheel and glares over at him. He's trying to concentrate on his driving – Craig knows that. Tweek has to try really hard to drive, because there are just so many things that can go wrong. He gets afraid. Especially as it's the middle of January, there's going to be snow and slush and ice, and Tweek's car could slip – and – and fall off of a cliff, if he isn't careful.
"I'm just saying," Craig goes on, "There's so much more stuff we could be doing. If you know what I mean." Craig is the only person in the world that can say the phrase 'if you know what I mean' and completely mean what he said – but it still makes Tweek blush. And blushing makes Tweek's glasses fog up.
"Goddamnit, Craig," Tweek complains. He pulls off of the highway into a patch of dirty, icy snow. The highway is mostly abandoned, but this far into the mountains, that's hardly surprising. He whips his glasses off of his face and rubs the fog off with the edge of his cotton shirt. He goes on, "I'm sharing something I enjoy with you. I don't understand what's so bad about that."
Craig shifts and says back, "What I don't understand is that you're afraid of snow, but you like to snowboard."
"I'm not afraid of snow," Tweek defends, "I just don't like driving in it. That's different."
Craig rolls his eyes and sighs, but leans over and rubs his hand over Tweek's arm. He offers, "I can drive, if you want."
Tweek perks up, "You will?"
"Yeah," Craig says, "but you owe me, dude."
"Owe you what?"
"I haven't decided yet," answers Craig
Tweek unbuckles his seatbelt and loops around to the passenger's seat as Craig slides out. He leans up the short distance to kiss Tweek on the lips, rubbing the back of his neck with his bony hand. Craig knows just how to work out the knots and tenseness in Tweek's muscles – he says he's always liked doing that, and that when they graduate that he's going to go to massage school. Tweek has no argument against that, especially if Craig practices on him. He loves being under Craig's hands.
Craig tucks himself against Tweek's chest. Craig gets cold easily, for some reason, and says that Tweek is like a radiator. Before they started kissing and touching and sleeping together, when they were just friends, Tweek thought that Craig made up being cold to get hugs. Turns out that it was maybe a little true, because Craig says that he just wanted to be closer to Tweek. He pulls back out of the hug and pecks a final kiss to the tips of Tweek's long nose before loading into the driver's seat.
Tweek tries to hold back, but he's a backseat driver in the worst way – especially when there's snow and ice on the ground.
"Slow," Tweek says.
"That looks like ice, be careful," Tweek says.
"Don't go so fast, Craig," Tweek says.
"Tweek," Craig finally says, voice flat, "I swear on my guinea pigs that if you do not cut it out, I will leave you on the side of the road. It's not even that icy, just chill out, man."
Tweek huffs and sinks lower down in the passenger's seat. He folds his arms and stares out the window as the car rolls along the road. Craig is whistling quietly – it's a habit that Tweek thinks Craig might not even notice that he has. He does it when he's concentrating, which, Tweek supposes, is a good thing when the roads are snowy. After a few minutes of silence, Tweek shifts back up in his seat and turns his music on, a mix he made a couple of years ago called Chill Pill. It's mostly just piano and indie, stuff that lets Tweek breathe more easily when he listens to it.
The rest of the way to Breckenridge, Tweek sings along with the music. The drive isn't long, but the snow and Craig's granny-type driving (which Tweek appreciates) draws it out. They drive into town and wind up the mountain to Token's parents cabin, which they let Tweek use when he comes over here to board. It's not huge, but it's well-stocked, warm, and comfortable.
When they get inside, Craig whistles lowly and asks, "How come we can't just stay here, huh?" He turns to Tweek and shoots him a sly little smile, one that makes Tweek frown.
"I told you," he says to Craig, "I want to snowboard with you."
Tweek heaves a sigh and then adds, "If you board with me, we can take a bath together."
At this, Craig perks up. He holds out his hand and Tweek takes it, shaking as Craig agrees, "Deal."
They snack on energy bars as they gear up. Tweek loans Craig some of his older stuff, since Craig is a little bit smaller than him. He has to admit, Craig decked out in boarding gear from head to toe makes a shiver run down his spine, and he smiles.
"Don't tell me you're turned on by this," Craig says, pulling up his goggles so that he can give Tweek a good, hard stare.
Tweek flips him off, and Craig ducks in and kisses him.
"I checked out the bathtub," Craig tells him, "and I can't wait until we get back here."
"I can't wait to get on the slopes," Tweek snips back, but he kisses Craig anyway, hugging their coat-padded bodies together before they trek out into town and toward the slopes.
Tweek suggests, "Since this is your first time, we should probably take you to the bunny slope first."
"Whoa, what," Craig complains, "I did not agree to that."
"Craig, I don't want you to get killed because you were too reckless to practice on the easy slope," Tweek exasperatedly replies.
Craig scowls all the way to gondolas. It's already pretty crowded, but this weekend is an ideal weekend for boarding. It snowed only yesterday so the powder is fresh, and everybody within a hundred mile radius wants a piece of it.
They share their gondola up the mountain with a couple of cheerful stoners enthusing about the snow and the great conditions. Tweek agrees and fist bumps one of them, which gets him an odd look from Craig – typically, Tweek is pretty shy. He doesn't like strangers, and he doesn't talk to them at all if he can avoid it. That's one of the reasons that he wanted to share boarding with Craig, because he wanted to show him how comfortable it makes Tweek, how at ease and home he feels with powder under his board and the wind stinging his face on the way down, surrounded by people just as excited as you to be there.
At the top of the mountain, Tweek pulls Craig along to the bunny slope. The others on it are all four feet and under, and Craig flips Tweek off, especially as Tweek ducks to help him get set up on one of Tweek's old boards. It's not in perfect condition, but it's a good board, a reliable one.
"Okay," Tweek says, "So you should start riding down on your heel edge, okay? That's the easy part. If you need to turn, roll your weight to your toes."
"Um," Craig swallows, "How do I stop?"
"It's the bunny slope, dude," Tweek says, "You'll slow down naturally. You ready?"
"Probably not," answers Craig.
"Well, I'm not getting in that bathtub if you don't humor me," Tweek tartly responds.
Craig groans, but straightens his back. He echoes, "Heel edge?"
"Heel edge," confirms Tweek.
Very, very gradually, Craig starts to slide forward. He gains momentum and makes a smooth run down the slope, but as he slows down at the end, he falls, straight onto his ass.
"It's okay!" Tweek yells, gloved hands cupped around his mouth, "Just unstrap yourself and keep going!"
Craig detaches himself from his board and trudges over to the little mini-lift that carts the bunny slope boarders back up the top. He's panting by the time that he reaches Tweek again.
"My ass is cold," he complains.
"No, it's not, you're wearing long underwear," Tweek says back, "Try it again. All it takes is practice."
Craig whines and throws his head back, but plops down in the snow to strap himself back to the board. He flexes his gloved fingers before running down the slope again. He wobbles at the end and falls again, but somehow, the fall is more graceful than the first. Tweek encourages him with shouts and cheers, and by the end of a few more runs, Craig can stop without falling.
Only then, he perhaps gains too much confidence, and ends up launching himself forward Superman-style when the front edge of his board gets caught against a rift in the snow.
Tweek wastes no time in latching himself onto his board and sliding down to Craig's side.
"Are you okay?"
"I have a helmet on," Craig says, "I'm fine."
"Are you ready for a break?"
"I think so," Craig moans.
"Okay," nods Tweek, "I'm gonna do a few runs a couple of slopes over, okay? Do you want to wait down in the café at the bottom of the mountain?"
"Nah, I want to watch the way you do it," Craig responds as they both pull their boards off of their boots and trudge to the line to get back to the top of the bunny hill.
Tweek only does four runs down and back up the mountain in the gondola. It makes him grin every time he sees Craig watching at the bottom of the mountain, slumped over on a bench with his board leaning on his shoulder. He feels proud every time he catches air and lands well, because he knows that Craig saw it. He's not afraid of snow, damn it. Tweek loves snow.
He's covered in sweat underneath his jacket and his hat by the time that he makes it down the mountain for the last time and sits down at Craig's side.
"You're pretty good," comments Craig.
"I know," replies Tweek.
"I'm really liking the idea of that bathtub about now," Craig adds.
Tweek can't help it. He laughs, "Me too." He's sore, though he loves the soreness that he feels after he's had a solid day of boarding. It's a similar feeling that he gets after he and Craig have had sex. He's sore, but it's a good sore, the kind of sore that Tweek is maybe even a little bit proud of, and makes him smile when nobody else is looking.
The walk back to the Blacks' cabin feels too long. Both Tweek and Craig are slow, tired out from the past hours at the top of the mountain. Once they're inside, warmth envelopes them. They shed their gear onto the floor of the foyer without bothering to clean it up and put it where it belongs. Tweek is down to his long underwear and undershirt by the time that they both slog toward the huge bathroom in the back of the cabin.
Craig makes it there before him, bare-assed and pink all over from the cold. He starts the water and flips back to Tweek to grin.
"This was a good idea," he says.
To which Tweek responds, "I told you it was."
"I got hard when you did that jumpy thing," states Craig, scratching a hand through his hair.
Tweek blushes, and his glasses immediately fill with fog. He whines and takes them off, folding them before placing them carefully on the bathroom counter. He corrects, "It wasn't a jump, I just got some air."
"Whatever, it was hot," Craig says. He shoves his hands up underneath Tweek's undershirt, stroking his thumbs over Tweek's nipples before he pulls it over his head and leaves it on the floor below the towel rack. Tweek moans a little at the touch. His hands are cold. He rubs his palm against the front of Tweek's long underwear and chuckles a little before he pushes them down.
Christ, Tweek loves being naked with Craig. Craig likes being naked, and it makes Tweek like being naked, too. He's never more comfortable in his own skin than he is when he's with Craig. Craig is weird about Tweek's body – he hates if Tweek gets upset about his flaws, and he'll spend forever running his hands over Tweek's skin, naming all his favorite places and corners.
"Mm," Craig nips at the skin on Tweek's throat and says, "I love your cock."
A shudder runs through Tweek's body at this, and he holds Craig tight against him.
Craig leans into the embrace, but pulls away to shut off the water in the bathtub. He steps in and offers Tweek a hand. With a toothy smile, he confesses, "I thought of what you owe me for driving us here."
"Yeah?" Tweek feels his heart speed up with anticipation.
"I want you to suck me off," Craig says against his ear, nipping at the lobe, "and then we'll take a nap, and then I can fuck you."
"Christ," Tweek manages, "I like the sound of that."
They settle down into the bathtub together. Craig discovers the jets only minutes in and they both relax, kissing and sliding their hands over each other. Craig moans when Tweek runs a bar of soap over his olive skin, and Tweek moans even louder when Craig starts to knead his sore muscles. He could fall asleep here, Tweek thinks, at least until Craig's hand dips down into the water and wraps around his erection.
"F-Fuck," stammers Tweek.
Craig's grip is strong and his strokes steady. He knows everything that Tweek likes. They're together so much that Tweek thinks that Craig might know Tweek's body even better than he does, each corner and tic that can make him explode. Craig kisses down Tweek's soapy back and noses at his neck as he works him harder. Tweek thrashes against him and cries out, sighing Craig's name each time he hits the right spot, and chanting it when he's about to come. He explodes in the bathwater with an echoing groan, and Craig bites down on his shoulder, stroking a hand through Tweek's hair as he rides through the orgasm.
Craig is hard against him, slipping against his ass.
Tweek has never been so eager to get clean and dry. Rubbery-limbed, he prods Craig out of the tub and tosses him toward the bedroom. It's a homey, western-feeling place, with quilts and a taxidermy stag head mounted on the wall above the bed. Tweek leaps on top of Craig and kisses him hard. He presses kisses along Craig's jaw and down to the hollow of his throat. Craig swallows when Tweek licks there, and all the way down to where Craig's cock is flushed and hard against his flat belly. Tweek kisses around it, concentrating on Craig's hipbones, his thighs, his abdomen, kissing and licking while Craig squirms underneath his lips.
Tweek starts with a small kiss to the tip of Craig's cock. He tastes salty already, and he's still slick from the bath.
Tweek hums, "Jesus Christ, I can't wait for you to fuck me."
Craig groans and runs both hands through his hair, thrashing back against the pillows.
Tweek sucks the head of Craig's cock into his mouth and pins Craig's hips to the bed as he swallows him down.
"Shit, Tweek," Craig gasps out.
In an instant, Craig flips Tweek onto his back and crawls over him, smoothing a thumb over Tweek's lower lip to coax his mouth open. Tweek whines a little and Craig pushes his cock inside his mouth, fisting Tweek's hair in his hands. He thrusts into his mouth in swallow rolls, fucking slowly. Tweek opens wider and breathes through his nostrils, reaching up to grip Craig's ass, digging his nails into his skin.
"Shit," Craig says through gritted teeth, "I think I'm gonna come soon."
He strokes his hands through Tweek's tangled, damp hair and thrust harder. He yanks up on Tweek's hair when he comes, crying out his orgasm. Tweek swallows, licking his lips as Craig draws away, sliding back on the mattress to bury his face in Tweek's neck.
"I am so fucking tired," Craig mumbles into his skin.
"Me too," Tweek sighs. He pushes a kiss to Craig's forehead, and Craig leans up to latch their lips together.
They doze, stuck together with sweat and soap residue. Tweek is sore and exhausted, but half-hard again already. He fucking loves being with Craig, tangled up in him and tucked into him. Craig calms him down when he needs it, even if most of the time he likes to annoy Tweek for the fun of it. He's – just – perfect, the way he is.
When they wake, the cuckoo clock on the opposite wall reads that almost two hours have passed. Craig shifts up first, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He mutters something about the bathroom and slips out of his arms to pad out of the bedroom.
Craig returns with Tweek's glasses in his hands, and climbs up onto the bed to slip Tweek's glasses onto his face.
"I don't suppose they keep any lube around here," Craig dryly comments.
"Probably not," Tweek says, "I've never had a reason to look until now."
Craig groans and curls into Tweek before he mentions, "I think I saw some fancy lotions in the bathroom. I'll be right back."
Craig makes quick work of it and returns to the bedrooms with an armful of lotion bottles, all with ribbons fastened around their necks in delicate bows. He dumps them onto the quilt next to Tweek and says, "I kind of feel bad about defiling these, but I want to fuck you more, so."
Tweek laughs hoarsely and asks, "Why did you bring so many?"
"I don't know, I wanted to give you options," Craig replies.
Tweek sifts through them and finds an unscented kind. He tosses it to Craig and shoves the rest of the bottles onto the floor. He says, "Come kiss me."
Craig obeys, shifting so that he straddles Tweek, and leans down over him. He kisses him gently, and licks Tweek's lower lip. The kiss gets rough, heavy – and Tweek falls into it fast. He clutches at Craig's shoulder blades and urges him closer, close enough that he can drag Craig down and whisper, "Touch me. Please."
"Mm," Craig says back, and slinks back down the mattress. He heaves Tweek's legs up onto his shoulders and pops the cap of the lotion bottle, throwing the decorative ribbon at Tweek's face before he dumps liquid onto his fingers. He pushes a finger inside Tweek without ceremony and finds his prostate within moments. Tweek moans and wiggles forward onto Craig's finger, urging him further inside. It still baffles Tweek that somebody can know his body so well, know just where to touch and in what way.
Craig jumps from one finger to three and Tweek moans at the sting, fisting the blankets in both hands. He's blushing, and his glasses are fogging, but he doesn't mind – Craig likes when that happens. He said so. His fingers massage inside Tweek, stretching and pulling in all the right ways. Tweek can't help but thrust back up against his hand, pushing him deeper inside, as far as he can go.
"God," Craig squeezes out, "I love when you get like this."
"I want you," whines Tweek.
This makes Craig grin. He strokes Tweek's hair with his free hand and asks, "Oh yeah? What about me?"
"Your cock," Tweek cries, "Inside me. Now. Jesus, please."
Craig kisses him hard and bites down on Tweek's lower lip. When he pulls back, a smear of red is on his lips. He licks them before he whispers, "Anything you want."
Craig withdraws his hand and Tweek sighs at the loss, feeling open and cold and needy. Craig slicks lotion over his erection, smiling at Tweek all the while. He repositions himself and kisses along Tweek's neck as he pushes in, inch by wonderful inch. Craig's cock isn't huge, but it's a decent size, thick and perfect as it stretches Tweek wide open.
"Harder," Tweek says.
Craig chuckles and shoves all the way inside him. Tweek groans and pushes up to meet the thrust.
"Fuck me, please," Tweek begs.
Craig begins a rhythm, bucking inside Tweek hard and fast. A bead of sweat drips from Craig's forehead and onto Tweek's chest as he works, fucking into Tweek roughly. Tweek lifts his hips to meet every surge of Craig's body. He gets lost, moaning and thrashing and crying out, all the noises that only Craig has ever been able to get him to make. He loves it, he loves all of it. He loves the way that Craig shoves all the way inside him with each movement, how he whimpers when Tweek clenches around him, how he forgets to be sarcastic and cheeky and kisses Tweek with sweet, wet lips.
"You're incredible," Craig sighs into Tweek's neck.
He reaches down and takes Tweek's erection in his fist, pumping against the rhythm of his thrusts. Tweek pulls Craig in close and cries loudly.
Without warning, Tweek comes first, all over Craig's hand and both of their chests. He whines and falls back into the mattress. Craig's movement becomes erratic as he climbs closer to his orgasm. He withdraws before it happens, coming onto the quilt under them and the inside of Tweek's thigh.
They kiss, and Craig falls to Tweek's side, panting and sweating.
"Wow," he says. His eyes shutter closed, and he rests his forehead against Tweek's shoulder. He presses a kiss there and mentions, "This was a good idea."
Tweek smiles, brushing Craig's hair from where it sticks to his forehead, and asks, "Even the snowboarding?"
"Even that," Craig mumbles, "We should do this more often."
"We definitely will," agrees Tweek.
And so they would.