Uh, this story's not so much about the characters as it is the feelings and the descriptions. Baasically I came up with the idea for this story and I was all "Cool, I'm gonna do E now so that I can write the story accurately" and then E was the best thing ever so I included more descriptions than character interactions, but that's okay, because in the end I didn't write this for you guys, I wrote this for me, cause I was bored and I like to write and I hadn't read enough South Park drugfics. But anyway, everything they feel is accurate to how you feel when you're rolling. If you don't understand my descriptions, I'm sorry. If you really want to understand go out and do ecstasy. No jk guys don't do that you'll kill yourself or something.
Um, if you're going to review, don't bitch. D: Please. I didn't even proofread this. If you want to leave a review just say the nice things. Maybe if they're nice enough and you like my shit enough I'll post more. But seriously guys I'm supersensitive and the last time I posted something I was so nervous I almost threw up and I had to delete it because I didn't like it and it kept getting favourites. :C
Ffffff okay, enjoy.
Velocity. So much force with seemingly so little effort, changing directions and movements was difficult but wondrous. The night air often reached temperatures below zero in Colorado, but in the 2 AM chill they felt nothing. Numbness, you could say, but more likely inattentiveness. How could they pay attention to the temperature when their entire world was formed of contrasts and technicolour? It all seemed to have a sheen, Craig noted. The houses, the ground, the vast night sky. And the mere pleasure of these things were amplified, objects you had no previous emotional attachment to suddenly were warm and inviting. Tweek rhythmically but erratically grabbed at his thigh as he and Craig walk-dance-skip-hopped to a destination they both knew was Craig's house somewhere in the back of their pleasure stimulated minds.
There was unpredictability in their patterns. The blond boy ran his hands through his disastrously ruffled hair for what seemed like an hour (but in the reality they weren't currently in touch with, was actually a minute) and reveled at the feeling of it. Senses. The five senses. They were so interesting. They were things you never really thought about until you took that little pill and suddenly everything was suddenly five times more intense and the world was so loud it was almost screaming at you and- Another wave. He sighed contentedly and switched his focus to clutching the minimal amounts of skin on his thigh. It felt so good, so numbly good, with a lingering feeling he wished he could bottle up and sell.
Craig ran his newly discovered tongue over his teeth. The feeling! So electric! Who would have known that in all the things in his enhanced state of being his tongue would be the best. Presently he glanced over at Tweek and had a glorious epiphany as he focused his attention on the no longer twitchy boy. Craig's eyes widened. He adjusted his hat and bent his knees.
He pounced, gleefully extending his arms as they tumbled and rolled onto the dewy grass. They tumbled. Gracefully and lightly, though perhaps in actuality clumsily and jerkily. Tweek hit the ground with a dull thud and a slight pain in the bones of his back, throbbing like the beat of a far away drum, gone unnoticed after a few seconds of astonishment at the rediscovery of pain. Craig landed on top of the skinnier boy, nose brushing his.
Body. On body. Both of the boys shuddered at the sheer amount of feeling pulsing into their brains. Dew soaked their clothing, feeling as if their skin was absorbing the liquid. They both blankly stared at each other for a while. Neither of them moved. Both looked extremely content.
Then their mouths collided, and then their brains exploded. At first it was just chapped lips against chapped lips, and they could have spent hours with just that. The feeling echoed throughout their bodies, flowing to their teeth, up to their cheeks, to their brain, down the back of their neck, to their toes. Collide again. Repeat. At some point Tweek's mouth fell open, and then it was tongue and teeth, tongue and teeth. Sloppy, pleasureful, with punctuated nibbles. They closed their eyes, and each time they collided they saw ripples of colour, visual feelings.
The kisses became smoother after a while. Craig reached for Tweek's face and stroked his cheek and it felt damp and so, so, warm and wonderful and they exchanged closed mouth kisses and touches and feelings and they didn't care that they were on the lawn of Craig's next door neighbor and they didn't care that they might regret this in the morning and they didn't care that they were friends, and only friends, because this was their heaven and there was no room for doubt or judgement in this world they had created with those pills.
The peak came as Craig stroked Tweek's thigh and Tweek tightly gripped Craig's shoulder blades and attempted to give him a massage of sorts.
The feeling died as Craig rolled them onto their sides and their foreheads were pressed together, plastering themselves to each other with the sweat that was leaking the drug from their bodies, and they clutched each others shoulders and stared right into each others glazed eyes.
They fell in love right then. Not with each other. They fell in love with a feeling. They fell in love with memories. With colour, texture, emotions. They fell in love with their together. They fell in love with that first night.