06.11.2012
Stan Marsh: Hey Craig
Craig Tucker: Hey
Stan Marsh: What are you doing
Craig Tucker: Nothing much
Stan Marsh: ...like what
Craig Tucker: Like nothing
Craig Tucker: What are you doing?
Stan Marsh: Uh
Stan Marsh: Looking at Craigslist
Craig Tucker: For?
Stan Marsh: Not really for anything..
Craig Tucker: Exciting
Stan Marsh: Uh..well I look at the pet section
Stan Marsh: And if someone posts that they're giving away free guinea pigs I tell them to mark them fifteen so they're not used as snake food
Craig Tucker: you watch for shit like that?
Stan Marsh: ...yeah
Craig Tucker: That's cool
Stan Marsh: ..really
Craig Tucker: Yeah
Stan Marsh: I really shouldn't look on there
Stan Marsh: People piss me off
Craig Tucker: Then don't do it
Craig Tucker: People are going ot do whatever they want anyway; don't let it get to you
Stan Marsh: They're dumbasses, I know
Stan Marsh: I just hate that animals have to put up with their dumbassery
Craig Tucker: Hey what are you going to college for?
Stan Marsh: To learn?
Craig Tucker: Okay yeah, but what are you going to major in?
Stan Marsh: Uh...I don't know
Craig Tucker: You should be like, a vet or something. Then you could like, educate peoplw when they bring their pets in and stuff
Stan Marsh: Uh...
Stan Marsh: I don't think I could do that
Craig Tucker: Why not?
Stan Marsh: I'm bad at every subject leading up to that
Craig Tucker: I dunno, it was just a suggestion since you were getting pissed off about dumbass pet owners
Stan Marsh: Oh...um ok
Craig Tucker: What?
Stan Marsh: I don't know
Stan Marsh: You think I could be a vet and I don't know, it's flattering I guess
Craig Tucker: You're flatterable
Stan Marsh: ...I am?
Craig Tucker: Yes?
Stan Marsh: Didn't know that
Craig Tucker: Well yes, you could probably be a vet if you tried
Stan Marsh: I kind of want to work with animals
Craig Tucker: Then do it
Craig Tucker: Even if you didn't want to be a full vet, I'm sure you could get a job at the shelter or something
Craig Tucker: Like a job, not volunteer work
Stan Marsh: Yeah...they offered before but I think I'd get too attached to the animals if I was around all day
Craig Tucker: Well you like kids, right? You could teach at a vocational high school or something
Craig Tucker: Like teach animal care
Stan Marsh: No I like the idea of my kids
Stan Marsh: Other peoples kids are annoying
Craig Tucker: Hahaha of course they are
Craig Tucker: But that would be a nice job; you'd even get paid summers
Stan Marsh: I already have a job, Craig
Craig Tucker: I'm talking about after college
Craig Tucker: A career
Stan Marsh: I don't want to work with kids
Stan Marsh: Why is this important right now?
Craig Tucker: They's be teenagers
Craig Tucker: I dunno, it was just a topic
Craig Tucker: If you want to change the subject then do it
Stan Marsh: Ugh whatever
Stan Marsh: My mom gave you the life after high school speech didn't she
Craig Tucker: Not exactly, she just asked what I wanted to do
Stan Marsh: That's how she gets into your brain
Craig Tucker: But that's not why I was asking, I was asking because you were talking about saving the guineas from snakes and bad pet owners
Stan Marsh: Oh..well yeah that's like something in my freetime I do
Stan Marsh: It's like burying roadkill
Stan Marsh: Animal respect
Craig Tucker: Well then what else do you want to talk about?
Stan Marsh: I don't know..
Stan Marsh: Can I get a teacup dog?
Craig Tucker: Really?
Stan Marsh: We can hide it when they inspect the apartment
Stan Marsh: Yeah
Craig Tucker: I don't know if dogs are allowed; they might be
Craig Tucker: But why a teacup dog?
Stan Marsh: We can hide it during inspections
Stan Marsh: Duh
Craig Tucker: Well if they're allowed can we just get a normal dog
Stan Marsh: Ok
Craig Tucker: I would step on a dog that small
Stan Marsh: Omg
Stan Marsh: you would break my soul if you stepped on a teacup dog, dude
Craig Tucker: You also know that it costs more to rent if we have a dog, right?
Stan Marsh: No, that's a retarded rule
Craig Tucker: Well dogs and cats cost money to own
Craig Tucker: In a house, that's your house, but in an apartment it's not technically your property
Craig Tucker: So they make you pay
Stan Marsh: Ok, whatever..I'll just snuggle mellow at night and get a waterproof cover for the bed
Craig Tucker: Why can't you just snuggle me?
Stan Marsh: Because you snuggle me and I get to hug the air
Stan Marsh: You're a serial spooner, Craig
Craig Tucker: I'll buy you a stuffed animal, then
Stan Marsh: It's not the same
Stan Marsh: I want it to breath that's a requirement
Craig Tucker: Well Mello would probably get squished if you slept with her, so I don't suggest that
Stan Marsh: Ugh I don't know aren't you going to get sick of me when it gets hot
Stan Marsh: You won't want me all over you at night
Craig Tucker: No, I always want you on me
Stan Marsh: Yeah until the air conditioning fails and I get booted to the edge of the bed snuggleless
Craig Tucker: No
Stan Marsh: That was the single most laziest retort ever. "no."
Craig Tucker: Well I'm never going to not hold you unless you tell me not to, so that's the only think I need to say
Stan Marsh: Then you'll die if heatstroke or something..
Craig Tucker: No I won't; even if the air conditioning died we could buy a fan
Stan Marsh: Yeah I guess..
Craig Tucker: Why is this an issue anyway? It's already hot outisde and I still hold you
Stan Marsh: ..true
Craig Tucker: You okay?
Stan Marsh: ..yeah
Craig Tucker: The incomplete ellipsis is unnecessary unless you want me to ask what's wrong
Craig Tucker: So what's wrong
Stan Marsh: Nothing, I just type those
Craig Tucker: Okay
Craig Tucker: So what are you doing now
Stan Marsh: Playing freerice
Craig Tucker: What even is that
Stan Marsh: Uh it's ..um
Stan Marsh:
Craig Tucker: I see
Stan Marsh: I'm bored
Craig Tucker: I didn't say it was bad, I just didn't know what it was
Craig Tucker: Hold on, I'm going to go find something to eat
Stan Marsh: Ok..
Stan Marsh: Um, Craig
Stan Marsh: Are you upset because I threw up on your floor?
Craig Tucker: No, why would I be upset about that? It was kind of my fault
Stan Marsh: Uh..I don't know
Stan Marsh: So everything is ok then?
Craig Tucker: Yeah it's okay
Craig Tucker: Were you worried about that?
Stan Marsh: Yeah
Stan Marsh: Now that I know though
Stan Marsh: Can we go fuck around somewhere? I'm horny
Stan Marsh: I finished my last exam today so tomorrow is pretty much show up and get my notebooks after they're graded
Craig Tucker: What do you mean somewhere?
Craig Tucker: You just drastically changed topics
Stan Marsh: Yeah
Stan Marsh: Well you're eating you probably don't want to fuck right now or something
Craig Tucker: Stan
Craig Tucker: Really
Craig Tucker: I always want to fuck you
Stan Marsh: Then why the fuck aren't we doing something right now besides typing? Goddamnit Craig
Craig Tucker: Because you didn't ask?
Stan Marsh: Well ok so where are we doing it
Craig Tucker: I don't know, wherever you want
Stan Marsh: ..uh
Stan Marsh: Give me a minute to think
Craig Tucker: Can't we just do it in my bed for once?
Stan Marsh: We already did that
Stan Marsh: And I don't want your hat in my mouth right now, it feels funny on my teeth
Craig Tucker: I really couldn't give less of a fuck if my parents hear you
Stan Marsh: I don't want them walking in ok
Stan Marsh: Or ruby taping the sounds and you tubing it
Craig Tucker: Why would Ruby do that; that's sick
Craig Tucker: Anyway whatever, where do you want to go?
Stan Marsh: Yeah well I don't know
Stan Marsh: Give me a minute god I am trying to think where
Stan Marsh: ...aw fuck now I don't feel horny anymore I'm just sad
Craig Tucker: Why
Stan Marsh: If I move to the apartments I'm not in walking distance of Kyle anymore
Craig Tucker: Then don't move
Stan Marsh: ...seriously
Stan Marsh: It's just as easy as that
Stan Marsh: You don't want me moving in do you
Stan Marsh: Dude my mom did scare you off
Craig Tucker: No, she didn't
Craig Tucker: But if you want your dog and Kyle then don't move
Craig Tucker: I'm not making you or anything
Stan Marsh: Ugh
Stan Marsh: But now it's like choosing between you and my dog and Kyle
Craig Tucker: Well that's not my call
Stan Marsh: I want to move in with you
Craig Tucker: And I have a car
Stan Marsh: ..ok
Stan Marsh: Then I'll just visit Kyle and my dog, ok
Stan Marsh: It's not like you're tying me up all day, just at night
Craig Tucker: Which reminds me, we still need to take a trip up to Denver
Stan Marsh: ..want to do that tonight?
Craig Tucker: If you want
Stan Marsh: Ok pick me up in ten
Craig Tucker: Alright
Craig takes his time getting around, considering Stan had told him he had ten minutes. He grabs his wallet and his keys and slips on his hat. He eventually makes it out to his car and makes his way over to Stan's house.
He stops in Stan's driveway and sends him a text saying that he's outside. He'd considered going inside, but if Sharon was in there she'd probably ask where they were going, and he's not about to come up with a good enough lie. So he waits in the car.
Stan came out after a minute, wearing his usual jacket, shirt, pants and shoes - though the jacket was not his letterman. It was warm out but he still liked having something over his shoulders that was heavier than a shirt. Walking out to the car, he climbed in and then stayed silent for a moment before he asked, "So do we know where we're going or are we going to drive around Denver like idiots?"
"I looked a place up the last time we talked about it to see if there's actually anywhere to go in Denver, but we're still probably going to drive around for a while before we find it. It's called The Crypt," he says, backing out of Stan's driveway. He starts down the street and heads toward the highway. "Just don't get… overwhelmed when you go inside," he says, knowing there will probably be a lot in there that Stan's never seen. Hell, there'll probably even be stuff that Craig's never seen.
"Why would I get overwhelmed," Stan said, although it was evident he was nervous because he got kind of quiet towards the end of his sentence. He leaned back in his seat as they drove along, watching out the window. Really, he didn't expect to be comfortable inside anyways, and the only thought he had was that Mr. Garrison might be in there, which creeped him out to no end - but how would Mr. Garrison know when to go to a bondage shop at the same time as them when it was an hour out? And especially before the last day of school, it was silly to be concerned.
"There's just going to be a lot to choose from," Craig says, having already sifted through their website. They had some pretty… interesting things to offer. He has a feeling they'll stick more to the restraint section, but who knows what might peak Stan's interest. Craig has a feeling his bed will be seeing a lot of new things soon…
"...like what," Stan really hadn't thought too much about what there might be. In fact, he hadn't even thought of asking Craig to give him a link to a website or anything, and he wondered if he should have. Shifting uneasily, he was quiet for most of the ride until they got near the familiar exit - the one he had sped past with Christophe the other day. With a frown, he looked at the passing cars and then glanced towards Craig. "Uh...so...how much can we afford?"
"That depends on what you want," Craig says, maintaining an even speed. He's not really in a rush to get there, not that he's dreading it or anything. It'll just be interesting to drag Stan through the shop since Stan has no idea what he's getting himself into. "I only have like… $150, but I can't spend it all because I need it for gas and stuff. I mean, I have more in the bank, but that's savings for the apartment and insurance and stuff." He waits a minute before continuing. "What do you want?" he asks, thinking back on all the things he'd seen on their website. Why didn't they just order the shit online?
"...uh, stuff? To use? I don't know what else there is besides handcuffs." Stan admitted, though he sounded nervous as he watched the buildings pass. "I have like...two hundred with me, but that's because I take out more money then I need and just use it for like four weeks, so I can't use it all now."
When Craig mentioned insurance, he mentally said, 'ohhhhh' to himself. He totally forgot about the insurance costs.
"Stan. There's a Hell of a lot more than just handcuffs. Where did you think we were going?" he asks. They're not even half way there yet, so maybe he should at least… inform Stan in case he wants to turn around and go home. "There's different kinds of cuffs, as a starting point. There's ones made of different kinds of materials, and for different parts of the body, like wrists, arms, ankles, legs, et cetera. There's even um, hogties. And there's things like slings and shackles and gags and blindfolds and… toys. And shit like body paint and bondage tape and probably a lot of other things you've never even heard of. We're going to a fetish shop, Stan; of course there's more than just handcuffs."
As Craig listed the different items that they would see, Stan started sinking in the passenger seat, feeling his face burning as he turned a deep shade of red. He looked towards the window, trying to keep himself from saying 'let's turn around', because Craig seemed like he really research this and he didn't want to disappoint him. Truthfully, he was kind of interested, but way too embarrassed at the idea of going in a public area and buying that with Craig. ...that was actually probably a nightmare he had at some point, but it never came up until now when he actually was approaching the reality of it.
"...uh...we can just..look." That was all he managed to say, and as he did, he moved his hand to cover his mouth as he leaned on the window, his elbow propped up on the very bottom ledge where it met the glass. His mind kept going back to hogties and slings - how the hell did that work? God, why did he want to know how it worked...
Craig looks over at Stan, seeing the dark flush across his cheeks. It makes his smirk a bit, thinking of the face Stan would be making if they actually had any of these items in their hands; or used any of these items. "You know… if you don't want to go we don't have to… I wasn't trying to like, turn you off to it or anything, I was just letting you know what you're getting into before you walk in and turn right back around."
"Uh...no, I really...I really want to do it, but...uh...it's." Stan paused, moving his hand from his face, still leaning on the window. "It's just...people will be there. But let's do it, you used gas to go so we should go, and ...uh. Like...how do you use a sling? Is that some sort of hospital fetish like you wear an arm sling or something?" His eyes narrowed, and he really was trying to figure out if he had ever seen that in a porn. Really, his porn was pretty tame compared to like, Kenny's porn, which he tried to avoid.
Craig is silent for a second, trying to figure out the best way to describe a sling. "Um… It's like a strap, kind of. And it's like… I'd wrap it around your waist, like across your hips, and it has handles that I would hold onto, and it's just to have more control when you, uh, do it doggy style. I think there's other kinds too, but whatever. It's just another control type of thing. It would like… Christ, why do I have to explain it? It would help me drive harder because I could pull you back against me easier while I thrusted." By the end of his explanation, he's more frustrated with trying to find the right words to explain than that he'd actually had to say it. Why can't they just… try stuff, instead?
"W..whoa." Stan said immediately after Craig's explanation came to an end, and he covered his mouth again. He kept his eyes on the road ahead of the car, trying to keep himself from getting..well, turned on. Craig's explanation...really, Stan was more visual than anything, and picturing that was making him uncomfortable.
"Uh.." He said, a bit muffled by his hand, "...can we like,...rest stop or something.."
"Why?" Craig asks, sparing Stan another glance. He notices how flustered Stan looks, and wonders just how into this kind of thing Stan is. "I don't want them to close before we get there or this would be a waste of time; we should stay on the road," he says, turning his eyes back to the highway. He changes lanes to get around a particularly slow minivan before looking briefly back to Stan. "You okay?" he asks, having a pretty good idea why Stan wants to stop.
"How can you like, say something like that, and then not pull over." Stan said rather forcibly, glaring at Craig as he huffed and looked back out of the window. He immediately tried thinking of his mother or some other equally disturbing thought in order to keep him from getting anymore turned on. It didn't help that Craig kept looking at him and then driving. What an asshole, he knew Stan couldn't stand him looking at him.
"Just...keep your eyes on the road and drive." Before he could keep himself from saying it, he added, "Dick."
"Because if we stopped now and ruined the fun, we wouldn't be able to try anything out once we got home. Besides, I don't want to have to drive after I come; it makes me tired and all I want to do is fall asleep holding you. Then we'd never get there before it closed," he says, sparing Stan another look. In all reality, he really wants to fucking stop his car, but there's no way he's driven this far out just to go back home. No, they're going to go to the goddamn Crypt, buy something new, take it home, and use it.
"Oh. My. God. You are such a bastard, just fucking drive." Now Craig was giving him a detailed description of why he didn't want to stop, and it made Stan drift back to the topic that made him turned on in the first place. He closed his eyes and tried imagining someone kicking a puppy. God, that was awful. But then he thought about how Craig looked so much like a puppy that night he was nuzzling him after getting high. Oh, he was a crafty bastard.
"How am I being a bastard when I'm driving you all the way to goddamned Denver to go to a fetish shop because you want me to tie you up? Next time I'll remember to not be as accommodating," he says, just teasing Stan by this point. It's cute seeing Stan get all worked up about this, and he wonders how Stan will react when he can actually see the things Craig is talking about. The kind of kinky shit Stan is into, he'll probably even wander over to the body paint section and salivate on the body chocolates. Not that it's a bad thing; no, he loves all of Stan's kinks. It just really makes him wonder what kind of shit Stan is going to get into while they're there.
"You're a fucking bastard." Stan grumbled, moving his arms to cross them over his chest stubbornly. He wanted to punch him but he was driving, and he didn't want to die en route to a fetish shop. But then again...if Craig was going to be such a bastard, maybe he wanted him to end up in a ditch just to show him how much he appreciated him talking back when Stan wanted something.
Reaching over, he casually put his hand on the bulge of Craig's pants, keeping his eyes on the road while leaning over. He didn't move his hand yet though, he just left it there.
"…what are you doing?" Craig asks, feeling Stan touch him through his jeans. There's no way Stan would try something while they're in the middle of the fucking highway… is there? Craig isn't sure he'll be able to focus on the road if Stan does, but for now he keeps his eyes trained, making sure there aren't any cars around them. Fuck, what the fuck is Stan doing?
"What am I doing? Obviously I'm trying to be accommodating, unlike you." Stan said as he started to rub Craig, stroking him with his fingers through his jeans. With a smile forming on his lips as he kept his gaze fixed on the road, he wondered how distracted Craig would get before he went off the road to the pit stop.
"You're not accommodating me; you're accommodating yourself," he says, trying not to squirm in his seat. Thinking about it is one thing, but with Stan actually touching him he's not sure if he'll make it all the way to the shop. "Seriously, Stan, if we stop they will close before we get there," he says, checking the time. The store is actually open pretty late, but he's not sure exactly how long they'll stop for if they do.
"Fine," Stan said as he pulled his hand away, and then he leaned back in his seat. Glancing over at Craig, he moved his hand to his belt and said, "...so can I accommodate myself then? Or is that going to distract you from driving too." He started to slowly unzip his zipper, keeping his eyes on Craig as he did so.
"Are you really going to fucking sit there in my passenger seat and jack one off while I'm driving and I can't even touch you? You're the one being a bastard. But fine, whatever, as long as you clean up your own goddamned mess and promise not to wear yourself out before we get there," he says, keeping his eyes on the road instead of looking over at Stan. He doesn't think he'd be able to look back at the road if he looked over and that was sitting in the seat next to him. Stan, with his pants down, touching himself, face flushed, moaning quietly… Fuck, Craig shouldn't even think about it.
Unbuttoning his pants and snaking his hand downwards, he began stroking himself. He really didn't want to, but then again, it was Craig's fault for getting into it. He brought this on himself. ...even if Stan was doing it to himself, whatever. Moving his hand in a way he could get more friction, he began picking up speed, and his other hand went to grasp the door handle as he groaned, and then said a little breathlessly, "Craig...Craig, oh my god. Unghhhh, Craig..."
Craig bites down on his lip and resists with every fucking thing he has in him looking over at Stan. He will not fucking look at Stan, moaning his name so… so fucking deliciously like that. So breathless, and unrestrained. No, Craig has to drive. Stan is just being a dick and saying his name on purpose. Well, if Stan is going to be a dick, Craig will just be a dick right back.
"You know," he starts, trying to think of something good enough to get back at Stan, but not really coming up with much. "Maybe we should buy a new bed when we get this apartment, one with bedposts. Then I could actually tie you down, instead of just to yourself. Tie you down and just fuck the shit out of you; drive you into the mattress. Maybe we could get some shackles and the sling and try them both out at once."
The rhythm of his breathing quickened as he continued to pump, his visible hand's knuckles turning white as he gripped the door handle. "Fuck, Craig..you fucking dirty bastard, ughhn, yes."
It was hard to say if he was saying yes to Craig's suggestion, or just breathing his name attached to an affirmation in a tantalizing way in order to provoke him even further. His hips gyrated slightly against the seatbelt as he arched his neck, pressing his head against the headrest.
Closing his eyes, he moaned, "Ahhhh, Craig...just...just keep going."
"Fuck," Craig mutters feeling himself grow hard in his jeans. Why does Stan have to be so… hot? Craig is barely able to resist just slamming on his breaks and stopping in the middle of the fucking road and throwing Stan in the back seat. He has hazard light for a reason; maybe this will be the first time he's ever had to use them.
In a sad attempt to drown Stan out - because Craig really can't take it anymore, the sound of Stan's forcefully sultry moans is just too much combined with the knowledge that Stan is touching himself, thinking about Craig, sitting right the fuck next to him – he cranks up the radio, not knowing what station it's on and not caring what chooses to play itself.
'Call Me Maybe' plays full blast through his speakers, and thoughts of Clyde flood Craig's brain, instantly killing his boner. Well that was effective.
When Stan heard Craig mutter 'fuck', he was sure he had him. Then he went for the radio, and turned on 'Call Me Maybe', blasting it through the vehicle. Fortunately Stan had no attachments to the song, and only a solid determination to distract Craig enough to do what he wanted. That, and he was turned on by multiple things- Craig, his hat, the slight anger in his voice when he said he was going to shackle him and pound him into a mattress; and the fact was that this game of competition they had created was way too addictive.
Well, he thought, merely a trace of logical concentration in his brain among the barrage of physical sensations he was really concentrating on - I'll just have to get louder than Carly Rae Jepsen.
"CRAIG," He yelled, and then repeated the other's name loudly with every single rhythmic thrust he made against the seatbelt, nearing his end.
Craig can barely hear Stan over the radio, but he can hear him, and that's enough. He bites his lip again and tries to focus on the road and tune Stan out. Once Stan is finished, maybe he'll let Craig drive peacefully and not live in danger of driving off the side of the highway or getting smashed by a semi. They're maybe 15 minutes out from Denver by now; he only has to wait that much longer to get out of the fucking car and away from this potentially dangerous, definitely arousing situation.
Letting out a strained gasp, Stan came to his end- his body relaxed as the radio was making its way into a new song. He removed his hand after letting out a relieved sigh, and then looked over at Craig as he loosened his grip on the door handle. Half paying attention to the song, he picked up the word 'came' - then he realized it was playing, 'Glad you Came'. He stifled a snort as he wiped his hand off on his pants, and then stubbornly looked out the window, his arms crossing over his chest. Craig wasn't even paying attention to him, he would give him his time with the radio if he wanted it so bad.
The utter irony of the new song requires Craig to turn the radio back off. A deafening silence fills his car, and it almost makes him uncomfortable. He chances a glance at Stan, hoping not to see anything that might distract him for too long. "Uhh… Stan…" he starts, his eye catching Stan's pants before he abruptly turns back to the road. "You realize that you just left a giant white handprint on your pants, right?" he asks, not sure if he's amused or worried that the drive might be for nothing after all if Stan would be embarrassed to go in the store like that.
"Yeah." Stan said plainly, though inside he was battling off a bitter feeling from Craig's lack of interest in being a voyeur. Glancing down at his pants, he realized there was a bit of a mess where he had wiped his hand, and he looked back out at the window a bit angrily.
"You'll just have to go in and buy me some form of pants and then I'll wear them inside, huh."
He was thinking assless chaps, and he really hoped Craig got that image too. Vividly.
Craig decides to let the rest of the car ride fall to silence, considering Stan's extreme moodiness. It's not like Stan's never denied Craig before, and Craig actually did it for a good cause, and with a great deal of difficulty. Craig manages to find the shop by vaguely remembering an address and parks his car, shutting the ignition off.
He doesn't get out of the car, though. He climbs over his gear shift, not exactly gracefully, and gets on top of Stan. He makes sure the seatbelt in undone before pulling the lever to make Stan's seat fall back. He presses his hands into Stan's shoulders, holding him down as he presses a heated kiss to his lips. He lets it draw out, long and slow, progressively becoming more enthusiastic as he allows his tongue to slide into the equation.
Eventually, he pulls back and says, "I really did want to pull over, but we never would have made it here if we would have. Let's just go inside, buy some stuff, and go home so I can make you come even harder than you just did." He brushes Stan's bangs back with a hand, staring at him for a moment before sitting up a bit and reaching behind him. He gets in his glove box and pulls out several B-Dubs wipes, ripping one open and scooting down Stan's legs to try and get some of the fresh stain out so Stan can go inside.
Stan was still in the middle of an extreme pout session when Craig shut the car off, and he was determined to stay that way. His pants were still left undone, and he had lost his drive to do anything because he was convinced that Craig was being unnecessarily cruel. He heard Craig moving though a second later, and felt him mounting his lap and then his eyes widened when he heard the click of the reclining mechanism and it sent him backwards. Feeling the other pressing against his shoulders, he began to say stop, but it came out only as a "mmmm" as the other pressed against him. Now concentrating on the kiss, he lifted his hands upwards to put them on Craig's hips, just as the other pulled away. His immediate thought was: what the fuck.
Listening to the other speak, he narrowed his eyes as he realized there was a however long this trip inside would take, then the trip home between his newly renewed urges. What. A. Dick.
"Goddamnit, Craig," He muttered as he watched the other reach behind him. What was he doing? When he took out a wipe, his eyes widened as Craig went to scrub it off of his thigh like a waitress trying to pick up a guy who spilled a drink in a restaurant.
"Oh, fuck, stop, we'll never get outside," He panicked as he felt his heart racing again, and he reached down to grab Craig's hand.
"Then you do it," Craig says, holding the wipes out to Stan. "I was only trying to apologize, okay? The faster we can get in and out of this fucking store, the better," he says. He really just wants to run in, grab whatever Stan had originally intended on getting, and just get the fuck out.
Stan grabbed the wipes from Craig, and then scrubbed back and forth on his jeans until he was sure it looked just like he had wet himself. He threw it on the floor of the car and then opened the car door, and nearly pushed Craig out. He took only a maximum of seconds as he zipped and buttoned his pants and then stood up out of the car and slammed the door shut.
"Okay, let's go."
Craig stumbles out of the car, a little annoyed that Stan is still acting moody. He pushes the button on his keys to lock the car before reaching for Stan's hand and heading toward the shop. It's a little ways down the sidewalk, and a little bell rings when they enter the store. No one is there to greet them, so he just walks inside, looking around, and then to Stan's eyes. "Where do you want to start?" he asks.
Letting his eyes adjust to the lighting, he glances over at Craig, and then gives him the most blatantly naive look ever.
".. uh...wherever you're starting."
He really wasn't trying to be difficult- and now that he was inside, he looked around. The wave of intimidation that he felt was overwhelming and he took a step closer to Craig as if someone would grab his ass if they passed him and he was too far from his boyfriend.
Craig shrugs, not expecting Stan to take charge in this kind of situation anyways. He wanders a bit, until he sees a sign labeled 'restraint.'
"There?" he asks, leading Stan do it. The shelves are full of different things, but he doesn't really focus on any single one of them. "Pick something," he says, not really caring what Stan chooses to get. Personally, Craig liked the idea he'd had while Stan was being a bitch in the car, but he doesn't actually care what Stan picks. He's sure he can make any kink Stan has into something fun.
Walking after Craig, he wondered why he immediately went to restraint. Sure, Stan liked it ...well, okay, that's probably why, but he could have at least wandered through another section so people didn't know one of them was a kinky bastard right off the bat.
With his eyes wandering over the things on the shelves, he started turning red again, and he eventually averted his eyes to the floor for a moment. With his head bowed slightly and only a short glance upwards, he grabbed a sling, hog tie restraints, a leather collar and leash, and the beginner bondage set. Then he shoved them at Craig, and immediately looked away, avoiding the other's eyes and possible judgmental look.
"This is going to be… really expensive, Stan," he says "And this sling is one that straps to your wrists and like, holds your knees up," he says, looking over some of the things in his hands. "We really can't afford all this… um.." Craig says, looking through the items in his hands and trying to decide which would be best to keep. In all reality, they can probably only get one or two of these things.
"I've got two hundred." Stan said quietly, but his eyes were now fixed on Craig, unmoving. "And if you make me put any of them back I'm going to put them all back and like...I don't know. Buy a whip or something. And I'm going to use it on you. So we're buying it."
Craig raises both eyebrows, trying to decide whether or not Stan is serious. "Is this really what you want to spend $200 on?" he asks, looking over the packages in his hands again. After a few moments, he puts back the sling Stan had picked up and gets a different one, labeled 'hard rider.' "This is the one I was talking about in the car, by the way," he says, deciding that it's Stan's decision what he spends his money on. Craig will pitch in at least a little, maybe half. He shifts the load to one arm and takes Stan's hand back in his, making for the register.
"Yeah." He replied plainly, as if Craig were asking a stupid question. When they finally were moving to the register, he averted his eyes the entire time, and instead focused on pulling out the money from his wallet and handing it to Craig. He could always give him back part of it later, he didn't care. Maybe it was best if Craig controlled his money...no, he wasn't going to give up the freedom of spending whatever the hell he wanted. No, it was his money. For now it was okay.
Craig takes his money, having the same thoughts as Stan in that he can just give Stan his half later, or just pay for something else. …maybe even take Stan on another date or something. He sets their purchases on the counter and waits for them to get rung up, uncaring what the cashier thinks because he probably has more than this in his own fucking bedroom anyway. When he says the amount, Craig cringes internally but hands over the money anyway. Stan's decision, not Craig's. This isn't Craig's money.
Really, Craig shouldn't have that much of a problem with it, but he hardly ever buys anything, that's why he's got so much in savings. So spending this much at once is near unheard of.
After their shit is bagged, he leads Stan back out to the car, tosses the bags in the back seat, and gets in the driver's seat.
He found it awkward to be holding hands with Craig at all in the store, but he went with it anyways. Climbing in the car, he got out his phone and promptly distracted himself with surfing the internet, tumblr, just anything that would keep his mind off the long and boring drive.
Craig just goes with the silence, figuring it better off considering how the ride into Denver went. The ride seems longer this way, though, and seems to drag on forever. Maybe it's the anticipation of that they have in the back seat, seeming so far away.
When they pull back into town, Craig stops at his own house, not actually sure where Stan had intended on going when they bought the stuff. They don't have their own apartment yet, so they can't exactly be super loud.
As soon as Craig turns off the car, Stan reached in the back seat to grab the bag and lifts it up - taking it up in the front seat carefully so he doesn't bump it over Craig's head. He climbed out of the car and shut the door, and then walked up to the door and waited for Craig to unlock it.
Craig follows Stan closely up to his door, and unlocks it before heading inside and swiftly making his way up to his bedroom. He shuts the door behind them and not a second later he's got Stan trapped against it. Stan might have gotten off in the car, but Craig sure as fuck didn't, and he still wants it. He presses his body tight up against Stan's pinning him to the door with his own weight as he kisses Stan roughly. "So what do you want to use first?" he asks quietly, in between kisses.
Pinned against the door, Stan looks at the other with a half-lidded gaze as he put his hands on Craig's hips, and then returned the feverish kissing as Craig administered it forcefully. "Whatever you feel like using," He managed to say for a moment, pulling away so he could speak, but it was a lot quieter then he had expected to say it so it came out in a slightly seductive whisper.
"Well, I don't have bed posts, so that eliminates the kit you bought," he starts, trying to figure out exactly which piece they should use as he drops his head to kiss along Stan's neck. "And the hogtie seems like it would be more fun if we were fighting," he says, trying not to imagine having to wrestle the cuffs to Stan's limbs. He lets his hands work to slowly undo Stan's pants. "So I guess that leaves the hard rider, which seems fitting considering how eager you'd been earlier." He slips his hands into Stan's boxers, keeping one to the front to hold him in a loose fist, the other hand wandering to the back to grope Stan's ass.
Stan stared at the other anxiously, but tilted his head back so Craig had an easier access to his neck as he left a trail of kisses down it. He made a small hum as the other mentioned the hogtie and fighting, which really only excited him again. Stupid Craig, mentioning things like that in the car...he was still holding a minor grudge because of Craig's lack of interest then, even if he was trying to make up for it now as he pinned him against his bedroom door. As he felt Craig's hands unbuttoning his pants and the light vibration against his hips of the zipper being undone, he bowed his head to watch as the other slipped his hands into his boxers, slipping his hand back to grope Stan. His body tensed as he reacted to the touch by digging his own fingertips into Craig's hips where his hands were resting.
"Uh..ah, okay, l-let's do that then."
Craig slides his other hand around to Stan's ass as well so he could back up and drag Stan with him. He turns them and gives Stan a light push to fell back against his bed. "Strip," he says, already taking off his own shoes, then his pants, his shirt, his boxers. He thinks for a second before getting on the bed, though, and goes back for their abandoned shopping bag. He pulls out what they want and rips the packaging open, tossing it on the bed next to Stan. Not even a second later, he's back on top of Stan; kissing him again and running his hands over his body.
As soon as he was tossed back onto the bed, he removed his pants and kicked them off the side of the bed, along with his boxers. He was mid-process of taking off his shirt when he heard Craig opening the box, and it made his heart skip a beat as he realized they were actually going to use the stuff from the store. Maybe before he was assuming Craig wouldn't want to, for some reason...He did sort of grab a lot just to see how far Craig would go. Stan really didn't think Craig wanted to use any of that. Throwing his shirt on the pillow, he leaned back on his arms as he looked towards the toy that had landed next to him. His mind wasn't allowed to wander too far though, because seconds later Craig was back on top of him, his hand running up his side. "C-Craig, stop."
He knew that would frustrate him, so he explained, though his words were quaking with emotion, "U-uh, the lube."
There was no way he was using that without at least a bottle back there.
Craig backs off for a second to reach into his nightstand and pull out the bottle he keeps. He'll actually probably have to buy more soon; they've been using a lot of it. "I won't forget it ever again, I promise," he says, knowing that Stan might have just been worried that he'd forget.
He drops the bottle next to the sling and moves back down to kiss Stan again. He runs his hand back over Stan's torso and presses their pelvises together in a hard grind.
"You need to get on your hands and knees for me to be able to use this thing properly," he whispers, sliding a hand up to his own head. "And you can use this if you want it," he adds, taking off his hat.
"Yeah...just making sure," Stan said offhandedly, his eyes narrowed as the other moved back into position, leaning down to kiss him again. With his hands weaving behind the other's back, he moved his hands to the other's thighs as he tried to push him closer to him as he ground their hips together. As soon as Craig pointed out that he needed to be on his hands and knees for him to use it, and then proceeded to remove the damn hat.
"Awww, goddamnit, do I have to," Stan complained automatically, thinking of how it felt weird when he bit down on the fabric of Craig's hat. It was the sensation equivalent to nails on a chalkboard for teeth, really. With a reluctant sigh, he reached up and tugged it out of Craig's hand, and then shoved it in his mouth as he pushed Craig off forcefully so he could kneel on his knees and hands. His heart raced as he did so, because he wasn't sure if shoving Craig was a good idea when he was turned on. Then again, any form of emotion Craig had was no longer a bad thing in the bedroom...even anger.
"Well you don't have to, if you want my parents to hear how loud you moan," he says, watching Stan get on his hands and knees. His pupils dilate as he looks on, taking in the sight. God fucking damn, he can't help but to think Stan looks good like that; hat shoved in his mouth, ass in the air...
Craig goes for the lubricant and coats his fingers with it before positioning himself behind Stan. He pushes in his first finger, pressing deep, not bothering to give a warning because he figures it would be fairly obvious. He moves it, crooking it where he's learned Stan's prostate to be. He presses against it, massaging as he lets in the second.
Grimacing as he felt Craig's finger enter, he tensed up and felt the damn hat sliding over his teeth. Ugh. That feeling. He should just spit the hat out like Craig did and give him a fucking hard time about it - as much as he loved wearing the hat and visibly seeing it, he didn't like eating it.
With his hands gripping the bed cover, he bowed his head as Craig's fingers roamed inside of him, feeling him over his sensitive spot. "Mmmmff..." He moaned, but found it intensified the feeling of the fabric on his teeth. In frustration, he spat the hat out on the sheet, wondering if Craig would notice if he just clenched his teeth together.
Craig sees Stan spit the hat out and wonders if he'll actually be able to keep quiet on his own. He slips in the third finger, and goes for something he hasn't really done with Stan yet. He starts to pump his fingers, fingerfucking him as he opens Stan up more. He watches Stan intently, wondering how long he'll last without something to restrict his moans.
"Ughnn," Stan said suddenly, surprised Craig was now essentially fucking him with his hand. Grinding his teeth together as he tried to keep quiet, he let a small gasp escape.
Irritated, he lifted his left leg and then kicked Craig hard on the stomach- intending to knock the other over and off the bed. It was mean, but he was really pissed, and he didn't want the hat in his mouth. Why didn't they buy a ball gag, anyways?
Craig stumbles back from Stan, his hand slipping away from it's duties and he nearly falls off the bed. "Stan, what the fuck?" he asks, excessively annoyed that Stan just kicked him while he was trying to prepare him. "Is that your way of saying fuck off? Because I don't know how much I want to keep doing this now," he says, glaring. It's not like he'd done anything wrong, what the fuck.
"I don't want to put the fucking hat in my mouth and you did that on fucking purpose to startle me," Stan growled irately, his teeth partially clenched as he spoke. He was still in position, but he kept his eyes on the bed instead of turning his head to look around at Craig.
"Just..keep going. Fuck." He kind of missed Craig now that he wasn't in him, and he wanted him to go back to what he was doing. Now that he knew the other could finger fuck...well, he could get over the hat grudge.
"I wasn't trying to startle you, what the fuck, I was making you feel good," he says, a little offended that even at this point in their relationship Stan thinks Craig is out to get him. Regardless, he gets back up on his knees behind Stan, trying not to scowl as he asks, "So are you ready?" He goes for the bottle of lubricant, popping it back open and waiting for Stan's response.
"Noooooo, I'm not ready, I'm just telling you to keep going for no reason at all." Stan said sarcastically as he put the top of his head down on the bed, no longer wanting to look up towards the wall or the bed. Not trying to startle him his ass, he totally wanted to startle him - that was why he didn't warn him before he did it. But then again, it was probably payback for what Stan did in the car...even though he thought it was unfair there too that Craig didn't at least look at him once.
"Okay, I'm sorry, just do something. I love you so fuck me."
"You're being a real bitch today, you know that?" Craig asks, squeezing a generous amount of lube into his hand. "I was asking if you were fucking prepared enough because you realize this thing sitting next to you is called a hard rider, right?" he asks, slicking himself over before picking up the aforementioned hard rider. He winds it in front of Stan's hips and holds on to each end. He presses himself against Stan's entrance for a moment before actually pushing inside.
"I'm sorry okay, I'm just pissed because you didn't look at me but I'm getting over it so just stop talking and...and yeah, I know that's a fucking hard rider, I can fucking read and I picked it out," Stan shot back at the other, his eyes closed in frustration. He heard Craig using the lubricant, but it really didn't change that he was talking way too much. He made a note to himself that he would have to talk to Craig about his habit of talking way too much during foreplay.
When Craig started wrapping the toy around his hips, he tensed up again. And he wasn't really prepared for him entering either - and a part of him kind of regretted for being so pissed at the other for warning. The warnings were kind of...sweet. But right now, Stan gripped the blanket, furrowing his brow as he locked his jaw together in order to minimize any sound.
Craig pushes in slowly, until he's all the way in, and waits for a moment. He's not going to ask if Stan is okay, because Stan is being a huge bitch about everything, but he does give him time to adjust before starting to move. He starts a bit slowly, not pulling on the sling just yet. No, that's for after Craig gets really into it.
He gradually picks up his speed, hoping for Stan's sake that he's able to keep his damned mouth shut. As he goes on, he starts to pull back on the straps in his hands, tugging to meet each of his thrusts.
Stan was able to keep his mouth shut for the first part- his teeth were clenched so hard he was sure he was going to break a tooth or two. But as soon as Craig started really going, he was shaking a bit as he grasped the covers tightly - his knuckles turning white as he bowed his head, inches from the surface. Then Craig started tightening the straps around his hands, pulling Stan into him quicker and harder than before- probably harder than Craig could manage by himself, even. Stan couldn't hold back a distorted cry, and he barely realized he had done it as he started breathing with the pace of Craig's thrusts. His moaning progressively got louder as he shook, feeling his knees near buckling.
Craig curses in his head, knowing that his family is probably still awake downstairs. It's barely ten o'clock; there's no way they'd gone to bed yet. He can't bring himself to care that much though, when the sound is like music to his fucking ears. What's the worst his parents are going to do, anyway? He's eighteen; he can fuck as much as he wants to.
He's driven to thrust even harder by the encouragement, using the sling's aid to his advantage. He's damn near breathless at the friction around his dick, and he knows it won't be long before he reaches his end.
"Ahhhh - Craig," Stan was a trembling mess, his body shaking as he shut his eyes tightly. His chest was heaving with every breath, and his hands hurt from clenching the sheets so tightly. He lost his control and he released on the sheets, giving an especially loud shout as he felt his legs and arms shaking underneath him.
Not long after Stan, Craig comes as well, riding out his orgasm with a strangled groan. He releases the straps in his hands, having been gripping them far too tightly, and instead wraps his arms around Stan's middle as he lets himself fall to the side, holding Stan to his chest. He breathes heavily against the nape of Stan's neck, trying to steady it and get a hold on himself.
Collapsing on the bed next to Craig, he laid on his side so Craig could cradle him in his arms. The oddly familiar feeling of emptiness was inside of him until it left, but he was sure Craig didn't care if his sheets were ruined by that too. With his breathing regulated after much trouble, he let out a deep exhale, and then reached down to put his hand on Craig's arm, stroking his skin with his thumb gently as he kept his eyes closed.
Craig's breathing eventually calms, but his heart rate stays just a tiny bit fast. It always does when Stan is this close, and Craig thinks that might just be his love. The only two things he's thinking right now are how much he loves being with Stan and how much he would hate for someone to come knocking on his door to tell him to shut the fuck up. He knows they won't, because they'll just use what they heard as a means to rip on him later for, because they're dicks like that, but whatever. It's still a legitimate fear.
It was quiet for a few minutes before Stan finally moaned, "That was so loud." It really was more of an observation than a critique of what they had been doing, because he didn't have to gnaw on Craig's hat and he kind of enjoyed that. But now he was mourning his reputation - because Craig's family had to have heard what just went down in his room. It was worse that they were in the attic, because all Stan could think of was how much that would echo through the house. Ruby would probably tell people they had sex-addicted raccoons in their attic at school now.
Rubbing Craig's arm still, he said apologetically, "I'm sorry...I should have shoved that fucking hat in my mouth."
"Eh, they'll get over it," Craig says, trying to be dismissive about it. They probably won't say anything about it to Stan, just to Craig. Probably. Most likely. He can't blame Stan for not wanting the hat in his mouth; after all Craig had spit it out, too. And it'll only be another week or so until they get their own place, and then it really won't matter anymore. He presses a kiss to Stan's shoulder, wanting him to turn around but not knowing if he'll be able to. He's not sure exactly how hard it will be for Stan to move after that; Craig's never personally done that to someone, or had it done to him, obviously.
"Yeah...ugh, eventually, when their ears stop ringing," Stan muttered bitterly, finally rolling over towards Craig. He was a little sore, but he wasn't really having any pain yet - the tingling from his nerves being stimulated was still numbing anything that might occur later. With a sigh, he put his head underneath Craig's chin and then closed his eyes, his arms pulled up to his chest as he snuggled in, nude.
"We should probably move over to the pillows and get under the blanket instead of laying in this," he says quietly, beginning to shuffle them toward the pillows. Once they're laid down, he pulls the covers up over them and hugs Stan to his chest again, his chin resting in Stan's hair. "Good night, Stan."
"Night, Craig," Stan mumbled as he curled up, a bit miffed he had to move. It wasn't too hard though, and it was a lot more comfortable being under the sheets.
"I love you."
"I love you too," Craig mumbles, already slipping into sleep. That was damn tiring, and he wonders if his arms are going to hurt the next day.