Title: Craig
Author: whocares10315
Pairing[s]: Craig/Tweek [possible others + other pairings mentioned]
Chapter: Introduction
Rating: M to MA for strong language, sexual content and nuances
Disclaimer: I do not own Matt and Trey's precious babies.
Author's Notes: I have a problem with run-on sentences. It's an incurable disease. I'm sorry.
Summary: Nobody knows who the hell Craig Tucker really is. But Tweek Tweak is prepared to find out, at all costs…
Tweek sat on his bed, every bout of anxiety making him twitch and make a small, strained sound in the back of his throat. He reached for his mug of coffee, knocking back a good strong gulp, sighing slightly before picking up his pencil once again to try to at least get his math homework finished.
But before he could even place the point down to paper, the sound of his bedroom door opening made him jolt with a frantic look.
"Oh God!" Tweek exclaimed, before realizing who was at the door, blinking in disbelief. "Craig?"
Craig silently shut the door behind him, watching Tweek with an indiscernible look that made the blond swallow back another sound of terror.
"W-what are you doing here?" Tweek heard himself ask, surprising himself at how controlled he managed to say it. In fact, his shivers and twitches seemed to dissolve away the closer Craig came to him, despite the increase of heart rate.
"I wanted to see you," Craig said flatly as if should have been obvious. But Tweek didn't feel patronized.
"Why?" Tweek asked in a faint whisper, unable to keep a surprised noise from coming up his throat when Craig slowly sat down close to him on the edge of his bed.
"I can't stop thinking about you," Craig said with the same monotone. But Tweek could see the earnest glimmer in his dark, soulful eyes.
Tweek's breath hitched as Craig moved Tweek's homework off the blond's lap and moved in closer. Tweek felt dizzy with heat when Craig calmly moved a wayward strand of blond from his face before cupping his chin, never tearing his indigo eyes away. The dark-haired male's long fingers held his chin so tenderly, yet their hold was firm and unwavering.
"Craig, what-" Tweek started to ask his friend what he was doing, but with a swell of emotion, he knew.
Craig closed the space between them, kissing Tweek and moving the tip of his tongue slowly around the edges of the blond's quivering, soft lips.
Tweek whimpered, needy fingers finding purchase and tangling in the front of Craig's shirt, the warmth of his body under his fingertips. He didn't know what he was doing but somehow his lips moved fluidly against Craig's as his eyes slipped shut. He would shiver at every brush of their velvet tongues, making small mewls of approval at the brief and intimate contact. Somewhere in the back of his fogged mind, Tweek noted that Craig tasted like the coffee he loved so much: bitter, warm, and strong in an unforgiving kind of way.
When Craig's teeth sank into Tweek's lower lip, instead of pulling away, Tweek pressed back, kisses growing feverish. Tweek felt Craig's hand moving up his inner thigh before cupping him through his pants as he moved in and kissed Tweek hungrily, forcefully, desperately.
This exhibition of lack of control from the dark haired male—"emotion," even—made Tweek coax the other closer with short, breathless moans, answering his hunger by lying back against the bed, moving his hips shamelessly up into Craig's touch.
Craig's lips never left Tweek's as he climbed over him, hastily tearing at Tweek's clothing as if they were offensive to him. He would stop briefly with one leg out of his own pants or with his shirt half off to bite at Tweek's chin and lap at his lips. The way Craig's moans rumbled low in his chest made Tweek squirm beneath the other, letting him aggressively undress him, finding solace in all of his heated kisses.
Craig, naked and as beautiful as Tweek had imagined, sat back on his heels. His face was unusually flushed, dark hair falling over his eyes as he panted. Though Craig did not smile, there was a hint of amusement behind those dark, cold eyes.
Tweek, sprawled out under Craig, light-headed with the promise of what was to come, stared back up at Craig, smiling weakly with a hint of confidence. His eyes trailed down Craig's perfect marble figure before pausing at his lower abdomen, his temperature skyrocketing and his moss-green eyes widening.
The frail blond was surprised, even impressed with himself, for not turning into a twitching mess right then or stop because of the oppressive pressure.
"Oh God," he choked, looking back up at Craig who tilted his head at him, clearly loving the flush that rose to Tweek's face as the blond kept looking down, then back up, then back down again, as if in disbelief.
"Craig, it won't-" Tweek shook his head, bunching the sheets in his fingers as he stared up at the other. "It won't fit. It's—too big."
"Don't worry, Tweek," Craig murmured, leaning down to kiss him once more, hands finding their comfort over Tweek's wrists. "I'll take care of you."
"Nnh," Tweek quivered under Craig, the combination of his words and the feel of something heavy and firm on his inner thigh being just too much for him to be able to form words.
"I want to be your boyfriend, Tweek," Craig panted in Tweek's ear before preparing to enter the other. "I love you."
Tweek felt his breath grow shallow and as he felt Craig enter him, he cried out the dark-haired boy's name.
"Tweek," Craig grunted in response as he thrust into the other. "Tweek!"
"Tweek? Tweek!"
Tweek's eyes twitched, snorting slightly before jolting awake, a bit violently.
"…Nnh, gah!"
Tweek looked around with wide, bleary eyes, panting heavily as if he had been running. Everyone in the class was staring at him. His face burned red to the very roots of his peroxide blond hair.
"Are you with us?" the teacher asked, raising a clearly annoyed eyebrow. When all she received was a groggy, spluttered response from a highly embarrassed teenager, she rolled her eyes and turned her back to proceed teaching.
"Dude," Stan smiled with a strange contrasting innocence, looking back at Tweek from his seat. "You were out."
"And making some serious happy noises," Clyde snickered teasingly, grinning at Tweek's right side.
"Nh! Really?" Tweek asked, struck by paranoia as he noticed the severe drool at the side of his lip and drenching his sleeve. Not to mention the not-so-little situation between his legs.
"Yeah, who were you dreaming about?" Kenny asked curiously from behind Tweek, blue eyes blazing with interest as Tweek hid his bright face, wiped at his mouth hastily, and crossed his legs.
"Sounded like you were fuckin' a fag to me," Cartman answered loudly without turning in his seat.
The teacher sighed tiredly before turning to face the class.
"Eric, you may be dismissed. I'm sure the principal is expecting you," she said coolly.
Cartman cursed loudly before getting up to leave. He complained all the way out the door about how he was always the one caught when everyone else was talking.
"If any of you want to join him," the teacher warned with a pointed look before turning to resume.
The rest of the class, including the girls, Kyle, and Token, glared back at Tweek, as if angry at him for giving the other restless boys something to talk about.
Tweek shrank back into his seat and resisted a whimper. Fantastic. Now he had friends he had to make up to. It was all too much pressure.
Speaking of, he took deep, even breaths to calm his arousal, trying not to let the public setting stress him out too much. As he did so, he slowly glanced to his left side; the side he found himself turning his head far too often.
Craig sat there. Strong chin held up by his palm on the desk. Long legs stretched out under the desk, crossed at the ankles. Upper torso curved and slouched, tiredly. Marble, unblemished skin, even and hard. His dark hair not short but not long. Average. And his eyes; they were a dull cerulean, easily mistaken for black. Bored. Cold. Empty. Unfeeling.
He looked like a statue. A work of art. At least in Tweek's eyes. And he seemed to be the only one that did not blame Tweek for sleeping in class, or even care, for that matter. In fact, judging by the lost look in his eye, he seemed completely consumed in himself. He had probably not noticed Tweek's mishap.
"Craig?"
Tweek had looked up at the teacher frantically, as if he had been caught staring and the teacher was now going to mock him for it. But as the rest of the students turned to face Craig, Tweek realized the teacher was just trying to get Craig's attention.
"Craig Tucker," the teacher practically snarled, her patience tried.
Craig didn't move to look. But he blinked up at the teacher, making her glare angrily.
"Do you know the answer or not?" the teacher seethed, clearly doing her best not to explode at the boy. Because the one thing the teacher couldn't stand about Craig was that he was so iunresponsive/i. It wasn't even so much that Craig was a negative influence to the class, unless the mood hit him to flip the teacher off. He never seemed upset or angry when he was sent to the principal's office, which was a normal occurrence. He never seemed pleased or proud if he got a good grade on a test. He never even seemed amused or social when his, so-called, "rebellion," against the teacher made the rest of the class laugh. The teacher had tried to talk to his parents about his behavior, but the discussions never got very far.
"No," Craig replied flatly.
The teacher sighed tiredly, but she did not appear surprised. She called on Token who answered correctly and glanced over at his friend. But Craig was already gone somewhere. Tweek looked at the dark-haired male's profile, sighing gently to himself as he wondered where Craig's eyes were. Somewhere past the teacher, the walls of the school, the town, the state, the world…somewhere out there. Tweek wanted to be there with him. Be with that healthy yet narrowly built form, so firm. With those thin, unsmiling lips. With those hooded, dark eyes.
Tweek forced himself to stop, blinking a couple of times and shaking his head away from Craig. He could not stare at the other boy. At least, not for the rest of the class. That was exactly how he had first started day dreaming and then imagined a very vivid-well, just a very vivid dream. Tweek chanced one last glance in Craig's direction, imprinting that image into his mind before looking down at his twitching fingers on the desk's surface.
Yes. Just a dream.
~*Love, hate, undecided? Let me know! Thanks for reading.*~
