It was three a.m. when I wrote this.


Craig had never liked his relationship with Tweek.

It wasn't that the coffee-addicted blond was unsatisfying in some way, whether in attitude or body. Craig liked his crazy quirks because it was something to pay attention to, to care for, so Tweek's spaz attacks weren't much of a problem for the raven to handle. His coffee addiction wasn't too bad, because Tweek worked at the coffee shop, so they got all the free coffee they wanted. The blond wasn't bad in bed, his sweaty, gasping face turned Craig right on.

He just never liked how he felt after the sex.

He, in all truth, just didn't like having sex at all with Tweek. It was just that Tweek was sometimes so damnably adorable and sexy that he couldn't help himself, he had to take him. Then afterwards he'd curse inside and vow not to give in again so easily. It always failed.

He really didn't like having sex with Tweek.

It may be a bit confusing, so let me explain. It all went down to the coffee. Well, no, not the coffee. The caffeine was the real culprit. Long term effects of caffeine abuse can include stunted growth, weight loss, short and long-term memory loss and erratic movement of the body (twitching). The end result of Tweek's lifelong (only nineteen years, but it was lifelong, nonetheless) obsession with the hot drink had resulted in a twittery, short mess of pale skin, near anorexic flesh and blond hair. He wasn't having any problem with his memory, but that was the only drop of good in the bucket of evil.

See, Craig had liked Tweek for a very long time. He'd always liked him, there was something about him that screamed 'Protect me, watch out for me!' And Craig had responded with apathetic enthusiasm. But until his drunken confession a year ago, he'd never made a single move toward his friend. Not one single one, and Tweek had remained blissfully ignorant. But he'd confessed (and then thrown up, but that was another story) and Tweek had been happy to receive his affection, against all odds.

But...Tweek was just so, so...little.

He was barely pushing 4' 9'' to Craig's 6' 1'' (yes, he was tall, stop staring), and his body was slender and skinny like a little boy's. And therein lay the big problem. All that caffeine had seriously affected Tweek's appearance. He looked exactly like some 12 year old kid. With those big eyes and scared posture, always trembling, hiding beneath Craig's proverbial skirts like a child.

This was some serious pedophilia here.

They were the same age, both consenting, but damned if that stopped Craig from wincing inside whenever he looked at Tweek's satisfied face, flushed and spent as he lay naked on those bedsheets. It was very disturbing. It wasn't like he actually thought about little boys or anything, it was just Tweek. He knew they were doing nothing wrong, it wasn't his fault, and that it was really a medical issue more than anything else. But it felt so wrong.

What else do you call it when you see two guys out on the streets—one tall and very much a man, the other small and seemingly in middle school—share a passionate kiss by their car? Even if you weren't a homophobe, that would be pushing it.

But Craig couldn't help but be in love with Tweek, he just was, ever since he was in middle school himself, and he wasn't going to willingly give him up. He wondered if he was a bit messed up in the head to like Tweek this way, appearance-wise. Tweek never minded Craig's love, he liked him back and was always willing for him. And even though the raven tried to hold himself back, to spare Tweek his strange almost-fetish, it really never worked. The question remained. Jesus Christ, was he a pedophile?

He tried not to think about it too much.


A/N: RANDOM STORY! xDDD I bet you guys never thought about that. Well, maybe some of you did, but yeah. I personally feel that if this happened and Craig felt this way, then kudos to him, for being reluctant even though he knows they're the same age. That's called a conscience, my friend. Yeah, I'm not a supporter of pedophilia, or shota-con, or whatever it is that's called when little girls are involved too. I have a nine-year old brother and sisters of varying young ages. Think of them next time you read that stuff. Ahem anyway...yeah, I'm being random here.

Lulz, anyone want to count how many words are in the story itself? Ha, I thought it was funny, but maybe you guys won't. Care to hazard a guess as to how much it is? I left a hint.