06.14.2012
Stan Marsh: craig
Stan Marsh: craig, you there?
Craig Tucker: Yeah, I am, hey
Stan Marsh: something's wrong with mellow
Stan Marsh: she's not moving much and she like squeaks at me when I try to move her
Craig Tucker: Do you want to take her to the vet?
Craig Tucker: How long has she been pregnant now?
Stan Marsh: dude she's not even drinking
Stan Marsh: I don't know
Stan Marsh: was I supposed to keep track?
Craig Tucker: Well if she's going to be giving birth that would be nice to know
Craig Tucker: But I don't think it's been long enough yet
Craig Tucker: Let's just take her in and see what's up
Stan Marsh: Are you coming over
Stan Marsh: omg someone online said don't move a pregnant guinea pig and I've been picking her up to brush her every day
Stan Marsh: fuck
Craig Tucker: If you want me to, yeah
Craig Tucker: And I think it'll be okay as long as you weren't squeezing her sides
Craig Tucker: The really squishy part
Stan Marsh: ...
Stan Marsh: how can you TELL
Stan Marsh: there's so much hair
Stan Marsh: I don't know what's hair and what's baby guinea pig
Craig Tucker: It's pretty much all baby guinea pig
Craig Tucker: I've never had a pregnant guinea, though, so I'm not an expert or anything
Craig Tucker: We should just take her in
Stan Marsh: ...oh my god
Stan Marsh: *phone call
Craig Tucker: -answers- Yeah?
Stan Marsh: There's a baby in the cage, can I touch it?
Craig Tucker: No, don't fucking touch it, I'm coming over
Stan Marsh: Oh my god but the paws and it's like walking around
Stan Marsh: How is it walking it wasn't there like five seconds ago
Craig Tucker: Stan. Do not touch it
Stan Marsh: Oh my god look at it it's so cute
Stan Marsh: But it's so cute and it's black
Craig Tucker: If you touch it, Mello will eat it. Don't.
Stan Marsh: ...seriously
Craig Tucker: Yes. I'll be there in a few minutes
Stan Marsh: But I want to pick it up
Craig Tucker: No.
Craig Tucker: You need to just leave it for now
Stan Marsh: But it's looking at me and it has small nails and its fur is all ruffled oh my god
Craig Tucker: Stan, do not fucking touch it. Look away if you have to
Stan Marsh: No it's too cute to look away it's like a wormhole of cuteness, Craig
Stan Marsh: You can't look away!
Stan Marsh: I'm going to touch it
Craig Tucker: Stan. Calm the fuck down.
Craig Tucker: No.
Stan Marsh: Oh my god it came out of my guinea pig I can touch it okay
Stan Marsh: She SMELLS like me
Craig Tucker: No you can't
Stan Marsh: ...Oh my god Craig this is the softest thing ever
Craig Tucker: God fucking damnit Stan
Stan Marsh: Mellow doesn't give a shit she's eating hay and OH MY GOD IT SNIFFED ME OH MY GOD.
Stan Marsh: I'm in love
Craig Tucker: Ugh... I'm almost there.
Stan Marsh: *Sounds of cooing in the background*
Craig Tucker: -hangs up-
Craig keeps his phone in his hand after he hangs up; speed googling how to take care of pregnant guinea pigs. He actually doesn't really know much, considering Stripe is a boy guinea and Craig should have never needed to know about pregnant ones. He'd just told Stan what he assumed, so he should really learn a bit before he gets there.
By the time he gets there, he's researched most of what he needs to know, but it was mostly skim reading. He doesn't even knock before he opens the door, and makes his way up to Stan's room before he can notice if anyone's in the living room. When he opens Stan's door, he sees him sitting there with a black little ball of fuzz in his hands. "So I was wrong; you can touch it," he mutters, not liking having to admit that fact.
He shuts the door behind him and makes his way over to sit cross legged next to Stan. "Any more come out?" he asks, looking into the cage for signs of other life. He hopes he missed Mello eating the afterbirth because that would be fucking disgusting to watch. He looks up to Stan's face and it makes him melt a little to see how happy he looks.
Stan was on the bed, petting the tiny baby in his hands with one finger when Craig entered. He had a goofy grin on his face as he cradled the baby guinea pig near his chest, but close to his face so he could see it up close. Looking back down at the baby, he cooed, "You're the cutest thing ever, yes you are..look, it's your other grandpa," He held the baby guinea pig with one hand right up to Craig's face, inches from his nose. The tiny baby guinea pig lifted its head to look at Craig, but was timid as it sniffed him.
Dropping his voice to a whisper as if the guinea pig couldn't hear, he said, "Craig...it's our baby. Look, I think it has your hair."
He couldn't keep the happiness out of his sarcasm so it didn't sound like his normal joking.
Craig doesn't really know what to do at being called 'grandpa,' so he just sits there with an eyebrow raised, staring at the tiny black guinea. It's premature, so it's even smaller than it should be.
He gives a bit of a nervous laugh at Stan calling it their baby, not really knowing if Stan was joking or not. Calling it that would just seem… he doesn't know. Is it a bad thing? No, not really. Just… extremely progressive. They've only been together three weeks, and they have a baby. That just seems like a lot.
Regardless, it's cute as fuck, so he reaches out to take it, considering Stan had presented it to him. And it's looking at him. How can he not pick it up? He cradles it in his palm, and scratches lightly between its ears as it continues to stare up at him. It bends its head and noses at the heel of his hand, and he has to mite his lip to keep from saying anything about it.
"So… um…" he tries, unable to look up at Stan instead of the guinea pig. "Do you know what you want to name it yet?"
"Soooooo cuteeeeee oh my god." Stan cooed as he ignored Craig's comment and instead stared at the other as he took his turn with the guinea pig. His heart was skipping with joy as he nearly melted with the vision of Craig holding the cutest fuzzball ever.
Reaching over to pet its tiny head with his finger, he looked at Craig, inches from his face. Noticing he couldn't look at him and instead was focused on the guinea pig, a grin formed on his lips as he leaned in close to kiss Craig on the cheek. At the same time, he accidentally pushed a little bit too hard on the tiny baby's head, which made it start squeaking loudly- just tiny, short squeaks.
"Oh my god, and it's loud like me," He said before he could censor himself, and he quickly scratched the baby's head lightly and said, "I'm so sorry...poor baby..."
Craig leans back over to give Stan a real kiss, instead of just on his cheek, pressing into him for a few short moments before pulling back and turning his attention back to the cavy in his hand. "Babies apparently give you selective hearing," he says, tearing his eyes up to bee Stan's instead of little beady ones. "What do you want to name it?"
He pauses for a second, lifting the guinea to his face to lift it and examine it. He'd also read something else, on his way to Stan's. It wheeks as he looks, until he sets it back in his hand. "Her," he corrects. "What do you want to name her?"
"I don't know...Craig?" Stan suggested, knowing the other would probably comment on his lack of creativity. When he heard it was a female, he stared at the guinea pig blankly. Another girl? ...he could totally keep it with Mellow. Yesssssssssss. But the request for a name made him balk, and he couldn't figure out anything creative at all.
"Uh... ...Craiggy? I don't know."
He glanced at Craig somewhat nervously. Really, he thought he had more time to look for a name, so he kept putting it off. And putting it off. And putting it off. Soon, it was two weeks within the due date...and then today happened. With a frown, he pulled his hand away and stared at the baby. What did it look like?
"...All I think when I look at it is the word cute and that's the lamest name ever."
"Why do you automatically name her after me?" Craig asks, giving Stan a raised brow. He gives it a moment of thought, trying to come up with a good name. He stares at her, with her short black hair, and she squeaks like she knows he's thinking about her.
"How about… um…" Craig continues to look at her, and think of all the things he and Stan have done; anything they've said, whatever. Something that means something without being cheesy. He's drawing a blank, though, so he looks back up to Stan, trying to find the answer in his face, his eyes.
"Because...I love you?" Stan said lamely, knowing that it was mushy. Oh well, he could blame it on the guinea pig - she was just too damn cute, all his defenses were down. He stared at the guinea pig too, not realizing that Craig soon changed his gaze to look at him as he looked at the guinea pig. What could they name it? Stan was hardly creative - after Sparky, he named their dog Halftime because he turned on the television...and it was Halftime during a game. Mellow was the most creative he had gotten, and that was only because he had been baking and he came across a bag of marshmellows in the cupboard. He looked around the room, not able to find anything besides dirty clothes in the corner, his guitar, his television, and then a bunch of sports stuff. Craig probably wouldn't want to name the guinea pig after something sportsy, so he was trying to dig deeper.
That's when he realized he had laid out the walking dead season one on his dresser earlier. Looking down at the baby guinea pig, he said rather blandly, "...let's name it Zombie."
"Stan, you're terrified of zombies," Craig says, giving him an incredulous look. The word sets his mid of on an inevitable thought train, and he soon lands on the word monster. It makes him think for a second, and he looks down at the guinea pig for a moment, making a few connections before looking back up at Stan. He remembers the night he brought Stan back from Starks, and he'd let Stan borrow his clothes. The song Stan had sung that night was Monster, and it was retardedly relevant to their lives. In a way, their whole relationship was kind of like a monster that they'd kept caged inside their whole lives, and it ripped them apart when they were forced together in the locker rooms. Even after that, they refused to admit they liked each other, and kept their feeling hidden away because they didn't want each other to see. It's stupid and cheesy and he's not even going to explain himself to Stan because it would just sound dumb, but he suggests it. "How about Monster?"
"...uh, yeah, but you like zombies..." Stan muttered, his eyes falling on the baby creature in Craig's hand. He just wanted to hug Craig until he fell over, it was too cute. And that was embarrassing to think, even as feminine as Stan was used to being- he felt like he was wrapped in a warm, fuzzy blanket that had just been in the dryer. Craig was being awful quiet though, so Stan reached up and put a hand on his neck, toying with the hair poking out from underneath his blue hat. He tilted his head, trying to observe Craig's face, wondering what he was thinking. Goddamnit, he still couldn't tell. When the other finally spoke, he narrowed his eyes, and then looked back at the tiny black guinea. ...actually, Monster for something that cute was adorable.
"...Lil' Monster would be cuter, but okay, Monster," Stan finally said, and then wrapped his arms around Craig's neck, hugging him as the other held the guinea pig. He was careful not to bump Craig's hand, but the guinea pig started wheeking when it felt a bit of a sway.
"Oh my god Monster he's mine too shut it," He muttered crossly, but reached out with his head lying on Craig's shoulder to pet the guinea pig again.
Craig catches Stan in his free arm, wrapping it around Stan's waist as he leans on Craig. "Stan, when you have kids, you have to share daddy," he teases, using Stan's words - his voice highly humored at Stan's petulant attitude towards Monster's jealousy. He wants to put her down so he can ruffle a hand through Stan's hair, petting him instead, but he doesn't have anywhere to put her. Something tells him if he puts her down, she'll get squished between their bodies because they have a habit of getting on top of each other every time they're in the same… state.
Hearing Craig say 'share daddy', he averted his eyes from the direction of Craig, and then moved his arms from around Craig and pulled away gently as he picked up Monster and put her back in with Mellow. They squeaked a bit and then Monster huddled next to Mellow, almost hidden under her hair. He pet Mellow for a moment, and then turned and lazily ambled back towards the bed, climbing on it and then leaning heavily on Craig as he wrapped an arm back around his shoulders, putting his other hand on Craig's thigh.
"...we move too damn fast." He commented idly, wondering if Craig was thinking the same thing. Sharing a pet was sort of a big deal, especially when it took two of their pets to make it, and it was like...a baby. He thought about what Craig said, and wondered why he didn't say 'when we have kids'..but he assumed it was because Craig didn't want kids. Well, it didn't matter to Stan, if Craig didn't want them he could settle for these adorable guinea pigs.
"It's been three weeks and two days, and we're like... ...parents."
Craig is both disappointed and relieved when Stan takes the guinea pig from him. He leans back when Stan comes back to him, letting Stan fall into his chest. Stan's hand rides a little too high up on his thigh for comfort as a result, but he's okay with that. "Yeah, well… we're unconventional in pretty much every way possible, so it only makes sense we'd have a mutual pet by now," he says, bringing a hand up to pet through Stan's hair. After all, they had sex before they were even together, exchanged I love yous within a week, decided to come in together before three weeks was up, and now they have a pet. There's also a million other things about them that have nothing to do with time that aren't exactly normal, like the fact they're both boys, that they fight so much, that they have so many kinks in bed, and so on. Everything with them is weird, but Craig likes it so that's okay.
"Really," Stan glared at Craig's chest, knowing he couldn't see his eyes so it was safe to express himself through a gaze. With his lips pursed in a straight line, he thought about everything they had gone through. Truthfully, it felt like longer for him...like somehow they stretched out a month into years, and the calendar was just lying to him. But that just made him think that time stopped around Craig, which sounded really ...romantic. With that thought in his mind, he rubbed the other's thigh without really thinking about how high up it was, and then said, "I love you."
Hesitating, he added, "...but if we keep acting this sweet towards each other the hogtie is going to get dusty."
Craig bites lightly on his own lip when Stan starts rubbing his thigh, and glances down at him when he speaks. He chuckles a bit at Stan's comment, and says, "I love you, too. It'll get its use one day; but maybe tonight we can… um…" he wants to say it, but it sounds too lovey to come out of Craig Tucker's mouth. He tries again. "Maybe tonight we can make love instead of fuck. There's a difference," he says, continuing to stroke his hand through Stan's hair to distract himself from the heat in his face. Leave it to fucking something like this to make Craig uncomfortable, out of all the shit they do. It's kind of true that they've never been soft about it; they were always rough about everything. Maybe it's something they should try.
"..uh..." Stan was confused. If they had fucked every single time...and that wasn't making love...? What did that mean for their relationship? ...were they just sex-crazed? What was the difference between fucking and making love? He thought it was making love. Now he felt a sinking feeling, wondering if Craig didn't think the previous times meant anything...when they meant a lot to Stan. Especially when they had their firsts together.
"...does that mean...like, the times we did it before..." He concentrated on Craig's hand a moment, feeling it pressing into his scalp in a soothing way.
"...does that mean you just thought that was sex, because...uh...I thought that stuff was special, or something..."
"No, that's not what I mean. But there's a difference between doing it slow, and taking the time to really, uh, feel each other; and just going at it as rough as possible because it's fun. You get close, and kiss a lot, and let your bodies rock together slowly. You make it sweet," he says, running his fingers up through Stan's hair before bringing them back and playing with it again. He actually kind of likes the thought, especially with the way they're laying right now.
"I guess we can do that..." Stan said with a frown still on his lips, no longer concentrating on Craig's hand stroking his hair. He sort of understood what Craig was saying, but it made him feel like their previous experiences were unsatisfactory in some way if Craig indicated something was missing, like closeness. Beginning to stroke his thumb in circles on Craig's thigh again, he glanced down and then pulled back to look at Craig.
"So...how do you do that."
"Hey…" Craig says, looking up at Stan, and bringing a hand to cup his cheek. "Why do you sound disappointed? If I'm feeling sweet, you should let me be sweet to you," he says, leaning up to press his lips to Stan's with a new kind of softness. He lets his thumb caress Stan's cheek, and he leans his hips into Stan's touch, pressing more into the hand on his thigh.
There's more he wants to say, because somehow Stan it upset about this, but he just wants to keep his lips moving with Stan's, touching his face. Shy should Stan be disappointed? He's the one that's done all that romantic stuff, like cooking and playing guitar… Stan should be happy.
"Well...it's not that I'm disappointed, I'm just...I liked the rough, but I guess we can try something new? Sorry, I'm just.." He paused, wondering why he was bothered. Craig was being so damn cute. Damn him for normally being a stoic bastard; it would make this moment less sweet so he could actually figure out why he was having off feelings about 'lovemaking' instead of 'fucking'. Well, what did it matter that he just discovered what it was? It didn't matter, really. Either way, he was with Craig, regardless of what they did had a name.
He moved his hand further up Craig's thigh, and then hesitated. He moved away from Craig and grabbed his jacket off the floor near the door, and then hung it in a way that it blocked the guinea pig's view of his bed. "I am not scarring that baby." He said insistently as he walked back to Craig, climbing on the bed and pushing the other backwards so he was on his back and he was mounting him, sitting on his hips. Leaning over him, he pressed his lips against Craig's, and moved his hands to run through the other's hair - bumping his hat off his head and onto the bed. There wasn't much room on Stan's twin bed, but he had to work with it.
Craig chuckles lightly at Stan's insistence that the guineas not be able to see, but allows Stan to push him when he returns. He leans into Stan's hands as they run through his hair, and moves his lips gently against Stan's. He rests his hands on Stan's hips before trailing his fingers upward, feeling Stan's skin beneath his shirt. He loves the feeling of Stan; his skin, his lips, his hair, his body against Craig's. His heartbeat in his chest.
He lets Stan's shirt fall back down his torso, even if it doesn't fall all the way, and pulls Stan against himself more by it. He wants to be pressed against Stan, to feel all of him. He can feel that fluttering in his gut, like he did back when he was still in denial about liking Stan, except now it's warmer. Now he knows it's love, instead of… whatever he thought it was.
Bent forwards so he could nuzzle Craig's neck with the tip of his nose, he felt the other moving his hand up his shirt. At first, he thought he would remove it, but then he left it. Then he pulled him closer, their bodies touching. His own hands were pressed on the bed on either side of Craig's head, but he moved forwards to kiss Craig on the lips, moving one hand to run through his hair as he lowered himself to sit on his hips.
Straightening himself for a moment, he removed his shirt and then tossed it on the floor. Once it was off, he went back to kiss Craig again, a little harder as he pressed himself into him.
Really, he liked the slowness on some level, but it was just so different. He was used to being handled more roughly, so this was a foreign concept.
Craig watches as Stan removes his shirt, sliding his own off quickly before Stan leans back down. He notices Stan pressing harder into him, and it makes him smile for a second before he smirks. "You know, we're probably actually incapable of doing this softly. We're too… what's the word… passionate," he says, his hands sliding from Stan's hips to grope his ass instead. "Maybe that's just how we are," he says, leaning his head up to give Stan another kiss. Everything they do will have at least some edge to it. The sweetest thing they've done is have Monster, and that wasn't even them, it was Mello and Stripe. He pushes Stan against himself with his hands, rocking their pelvises together in a slow grind.
Stan bowed his head as the other took to grinding into him, and then frowned as he thought this was more like teasing then actually lovemaking. If this lovemaking thing was all teasing, then maybe he didn't like it. He continued to be gentle though, avoiding pulling on Craig's hair because he had said it was supposed to be 'soft'. He couldn't take it anymore after awhile though, and as he gazed into Craig's eyes for a moment, not moving, he said, "...so are you going to actually do anything, because if this is just all teasing, it's torture."
"Stan, that's what foreplay is; it's just teasing and making you want the sex even more," Craig says, accentuating his words by bucking his hips up into Stan's. Then he has a sudden horrible thought, and it makes him slow in his actions. They're in Stan's house. The worst Craig got the next day from his family when Stan was being loud was a few sarcastic quips about his new girlfriend, to which he flipped them all the bird. But in Stan's house… he's not sure what will happen.
"Stan, I don't even think we can do this here," he says, the tight grip he'd had on Stan loosening a bit as he stops pressing their hips together. "What if your mom hears?"
"If she hears, so what," Stan said as he moved back, sitting on Craig's hips. Why was he suddenly so freaked out? Stan thought he solved his issues with his mom - they spent that day together and Craig got her to agree with Stan moving out.
"...uh, do you not want to...?"
He paused, staring at the other as he heard footsteps up the stairs and then a door close.
"I always want to; that's not even the issue. You think I'd so willingly leave this unattended?" he asks, rocking his hips against Stan once more with the word 'this' so that Stan can feel how hard he is. After a second, he continues, "The issue is that what will your mom do if she hears? Will she still let you move in with me? Will she check on us?" He's not sure what exactly Sharon would do, but if she fucking walked in on them in the middle of them fucking, he might have to kill her for interrupting.
Blushing slightly at Craig pressing against him, he heard the door open again in the hallway outside his closed door. He was actually getting nervous, because he didn't know who that was - his mother usually didn't shut doors, and his father forgot to. Which meant it was probably Shelly, and if it was Shelly, he didn't want her listening.
Glancing over his shoulder, he heard footsteps down the hall to the bathroom and the door shut again. He turned his gaze back towards Craig, and then shrugged and said, "I don't think that's my mom, but...uh, I mean, she has to assume we'd be doing that anyways, so she said yes even after that...so..."
The door opened again from the bathroom and the footsteps approached Stan's door, and then the doorknob twisted. Stan froze, looking back over at his shoulder as Shelly peered in.
"Hey Stan," She said before the door was all the way open. "I found your shirt in my pile of clo-"
She paused, staring at her shirtless brother and his boyfriend. Focusing on Craig for a moment, she studied his face before she looked at Stan, mumbled "Sorry", and shut the door.
"Fuck, Shelly, why didn't you fucking knock? Oh my god. Goddamnit..."
Craig is about to say something more, but is interrupted by the door opening. He stares back at Shelly as she looks at him, not sure what to think of the girl now standing in Stan's door way. He's never really met Shelly, so laying under her brother with his hands on Stan's ass probably isn't the best first impression. Not that he thinks he cares, since Stan said that she's an abusive bitch; so he just stays still until she backs back out of the room and shuts the door.
"So… that was your sister," Craig says, pointing out the obvious because it further proves his earlier point. He just lays there under Stan, not quite willing to move. "Do you still want to do this?" he asks, knowing the answer is probably going to be no.
"Yes, that was my sister, and no, I really don't want to do this here," He reached back to pull Craig's hands out of his pants, and then slid off the bed to stand.
Shelly opened the door, not having walked off. "So are you gay?" She asked as she stared at Stan, and then looked back at Craig. It didn't sound mean, she delivered it as an average question.
"Noooo, Shelly, I'm a not gay, I'm just doing this for fun. God, what do you think? Get out of my fucking room." Stan reached over to his pillow, grabbed his shirt and pulled it over his head, glaring at Shelly. "Get out, Shelly."
"I'm not in your fucking room, Stan. Okay. But take your fucking shirt." She chucked the shirt at Stan, and he caught it, and hugged it to his chest. "Just make sure mom doesn't catch you, you know, the rule how she can only have sex under her roof. She's a hypocrite."
"Why do you fucking care, Shelly. Get out of my room."
Shelly glared pointedly at Stan, and then slammed the door shut. A second later, her door slammed shut too, and then it was quiet.
Craig sighs and sits up after Stan's little altercation with his sister. "So now what?" is all he says, to break the silence that falls over the room after Shelly's door shuts. He looks up at Stan, holding the shirt to his chest, with a somewhat sympathetic look. That sucks, that Shelly walked in, for lots of reasons. One of them being that now Craig gets to sit there hard until it goes away; probably Stan too.
Tossing the shirt on his bed, he sat down on the edge, irritated. He didn't understand why Shelly had to interrupt - she never came in his room anyways. Maybe she heard him with someone and wanted to know what he was doing. That was probably it. Stupid spying sister.
He glanced over to the cage, and realized his jacket was moving. "...what the?" He said as he got up, walking over quickly to the cage and then groaned as he realized Mellow was eating his sleeve. "Goddamnit, Mellow, bad," He said as he yanked it from her, and she looked at him and squeaked. He observed the damage to his coat - the lining was showing, she had torn up his left cuff. "Jesus fucking christ, can anything else go wrong." He walked with his jacket to sit on the bed next to Craig, sulking.
Craig scoots to sit next to Stan, and wraps an arm around his shoulders. "It's okay Stan, you have no idea how many things of mine Stripe has ruined. She didn't do too much damage," he says, examining the sleeve of the jacket. He takes it and drops it on the floor next to them, not wanting Stan to think about it anymore. He takes Stan up in a hug and kisses the top of his head before laying his cheek on it. "This isn't the worst thing that's ever happened to us; it'll be fine," he says.
He went limp in Craig's arms, leaning his full weight on the other as he held him. He was still turned on though, so it reminded him that Shelly had seen Craig's hands down his pants. And then asked if he was gay, which should have been a given, but he was thinking she was probably going to go tumblr that to all her friends.
"I think I'm going to take a nap or something," He said, snuggling up to Craig. "Can we move into the apartment tomorrow."
"Well, I went and signed the lease papers yesterday, so… by next week we can move in. But speaking of the apartment, we need to talk about stuff like furniture. I have a few things that my grandma left me when she died, like a couch and a little dining room table, but we're going to need all that other shit that people have in their apartments, like… a vacuum cleaner and a toaster and bathroom towels and all that shit no one thinks about. Is there, um, a day you want to go with me and get some of that stuff?" he asks, holding Stan's limp body to his own. Somewhere in there, he'd brought a hand up to stroke through Stan's hair to sort of take away from his words. Buying shit like that together is going to me oddly… coupley. And even more progressive than anything else they've done. Craig is actually a little nervous about it, which is why he waited so long to bring it up.
"Oh, God." Stan muttered under his breath, but he was pretty sure with how often he said it, it was audible enough for Craig to pick up on it. Heaving a sigh, he kept leaning into Craig as he thought about what he just said. Picking out stuff like that...homey stuff, that seemed too...committed? And Stan didn't have a problem with that, but he was beginning to think they'd be together forever, and that was a huge step.
"...why don't we just make a gift registry at Marcy's, and then tell people what we want for our wedding."
It was wonderfully sarcastic, but he added, "I guess whenever you feel like going out is good...I'm really not doing much this summer anyways."
Craig tries not to physically freeze up when Stan actually uses the word wedding, even as a joke, because that's a fucking lot. A lot. Craig never even thought seriously about that with Tweek. There was that one time he gave Tweek that ring, sure, but that was just to prove a point. He tries to shake the thought before he can let it get to him. Marriage is a long way off, if it ever even happens. A long way off.
"Um… okay," he says, barely picking up Stan's last comment. "We need to get some of it before we move our stuff though. It's a two bedroom apartment, if we want to take both our beds, or whatever. I'm sure we'll have time to figure it out."
"Sure, we can take both beds. And yeah, did you want to go on Saturday or something?" Stan mumbled, wondering why Craig paused for awhile. Narrowing his eyes and rolling them upwards to look at Craig's chin, but decided not to comment on it.
"Isn't this too serious? I mean, ...I don't care, but...maybe we're going too fast."
Craig hesitates a minute with his response, not wanting to offend Stan in any way. "Yes, we are moving way to fast," he says, admitting it out loud for probably the first time. "And I've actually been worried about that ever since I let myself tell you I love you before we were even together for a week. But that's why my name is the only one on the lease papers. If anything… happens – if we somehow don't end up staying together because of whatever reason – you'll be able to go back home without consequence." He pauses for a moment, trying to think of the words he's using. "It's not that I'm counting on anything bad happening – I really don't want anything to happen – but statistics for young couples aren't exactly good. But I'm hopeful, so that's why I want to move it with you." He really fucking hopes that didn't sound bad, because he's never been good with voicing his concerns. He knows that no matter how great things seem right now, they might not always be this way, so they need a failsafe way to get out of it without anyone getting fucked over. Well, without Stan, Craig probably won't be able to afford living on his own so his credit will get fucked, but that's okay.
"...you only put your name on the paper." Stan responded plainly, his voice extremely monotone. Shouldn't both of their names be on the paper- ...did he not trust Stan? Did he not expect them to last that long? He said he was hopeful - shouldn't he know if he's going to end up hating Stan in a week or two? With his mouth in a straight line, he glared at the wall for a few seconds, and then moved away from Craig, sitting up on his own with his arms in his lap. He had long ago lost the excitement connected to lovemaking, and now he was feeling ticked off instead.
"So I'm living in your apartment. ..your apartment."
"No, Stan, our apartment. You weren't there to sign the papers. I can't sign your name for you," he says, physically hurt by the fact that Stan actually removed himself from Craig completely.
After a few moments, he continues. "And you've been doing… well, this," he motions with a hand, " a lot lately, and I don't know how much longer you're going to want to be around anyways. If you ever want to leave, you'll be able to. I'm not into trapping people in relationships."
"I'm doing this because you keep acting like we're not permanent and you keep suggesting I'm going to leave," Stan shot back at Craig, barely giving any pause between their exchange. "I'm not going to fucking leave. You know what? If you have so much goddamn hope for us that you can even suggest something like I'm trapped in this relationship and that I'm going to leave, then maybe you should fucking leave. Because I'm fucking serious, I don't date people unless I actually want to, and I wouldn't stay if I didn't think there was a future in it. But if you can't see me in your apartment a year down the road and you're just going to put all your money in it and then say, 'oh, you just live there, it's not our home, it's mine' then fuck you, Craig. Just seriously, fuck you. I want to be a part of it too."
"No, fuck you Stan. Do you realize how many times you've suggested that we might not be working out? And you're the one that won't be with me in public, so excuse the fuck out of me for thinking you might have second thoughts one day. Besides, you loved Wendy for six fucking years and jumped right to me. Who's to say someone better than me won't come along one day? There's any number of fucking things that could go wrong, Stan, and I did it that way for fucking your sake." He stops and finds his hat, pulling it tight over his head and turns away from Stan, fuming. Fucking everything Craig tries to do blows up in his face; why does he even try anymore? Maybe he should just let Stan fuck up and deal with the consequences like normal people instead of trying to prevent problems. That only fucking creates more.
"You think I'm the one that's going to fucking leave after all the shit I've done for you," he mutters, more just being pissy to himself instead of trying to continue speaking to Stan. "I wouldn't have even offered for you to live with me if I didn't want it to be our apartment."
Stan sat still, looking at his hands as Craig spoke. He was feeling a little less pissed off, and a bit more worried now, realizing Craig was right. He said they might not be working out a lot, and then when Craig repeated it, Stan was pissed. With his eyes half drawn shut, he wrung his hands with one another, doing a motion that normally was calming when he was upset.
It was extremely hypocritical of him, and he knew this, and now regretted it as he heard how angry Craig sounded. Then he suggested Stan might find someone else - which made Stan feel sick, because he didn't want to think about that either.
"Sorry," He said lamely, in a quiet tone, looking at his hands still, letting them fall in his lap unmoving again. "I'm sorry.."
"Yeah, I know you're sorry," Craig mutters, flopping onto his side on the bed. He really tries not to get pissed off when Stan is pissed off, because they'll just cause more problems with each other, but he can't help it sometimes. Stan gets pissed at him when he hasn't even done anything, and Craig's never been one to take an insult without a fight. Even if they're dating, he's still going to defend himself.
Remaining quiet, Stan stared at his hands a little bit longer, and then looked over his shoulder at Craig. He pulled himself up on the bed, and then snuggled up behind him, hugging his back. He put his chin on Craig's shoulder, and then removed his hat so he could mess with his hair - massaging his fingers into the other's scalp in circular motions. Brushing his bangs from his eyes, he looked at Craig for a moment before he said, "It's impossible for someone better to come along, because there isn't anyone better than you."
Craig starts to feel a little better with Stan's hands in his hair, but as soon as Stan speaks his heart sinks a bit. That's probably exactly what he thought about Wendy, too. That's what you always think when you're in a relationship, until someone better does come along. Not that Craig is insecure; he's pretty confident that Stan will stay with him and he'd really only said that to prove a point.
"Um, yeah," Craig says, focusing back on the fingers in his hair instead to relax himself again. "I love you, Stan," he sighs, defeated again. They have a lot of angry days.
"I love you," He mumbled, laying back down on Craig's shoulder, his hand still in the other's now-messed up hair. He heard Shelly's door open again, but there weren't any footsteps accompanying it. What the hell. If she walked in, Stan mentally swore to himself he'd throw a pillow at her. Or a brick. Seconds later, he heard her bouncing down the steps, the stairs creaking as she went. Pressing his lips into Craig's shoulder, he combed his fingers through the other's hair again before he said, "Uh...Did you want to..."
What he didn't realize was that Shelly had gone back up the steps halfway, and she opened the door again.
"Dad's home, you should probably keep it down so you don't get caught. Oh, and if you want a cover up, blast heavy metal and lock the door. If they come knocking you can say you didn't hear them." She paused for a moment, staring at her brother's back before she added, "Maybe next time you could introduce me to your new partner, instead of me finding out like this. You know, because you're my only sibling."
"Fuck off, Shelly."
She glared at him, and then shut the door and went back down the steps.
Stan laid there quietly for a few minutes, and then said, "...well I have heavy metal."
Craig sighs again, not really caring either way anymore, especially considering Shelly just interrupted again. "If you want," he provides, actually developing a bit of a headache from getting so frustrated. They can't fight about the apartment when it's such a big step like this; that's not a good sign. Somehow, Craig still thinks they'll be okay, but he's not sure how. Though at the moment, he should be more concerned with Stan's request. Craig didn't exactly sound super interested, after all, but he's sure the second Stan climbed on top of him he'd be more enthusiastic. That's the kind of effect Stan has on him.
Stan slid off the bed after Craig's unenthusiastic response, and walked over to his door and locked it. Then he picked up his book bag and put it in front of Mellow's cage, just so she couldn't see AND she couldn't eat it. Walking over to his stereo on his dresser, he took his ipod out of the top drawer and hooked it up to the speakers- then he looked through his songs. He hesitated on Metallica, but then spotted Nine Inch Nails a few titles below that. Selecting it and setting it to a moderately high volume - they could probably hear the bass through the floor, really, and not words - he walked back over to Craig, and then pulled him over so he was lying on his back on the bed. Settling himself on top of Craig, he realized after a few beats what song he had picked, and he averted his eyes with a crooked smile on his lips.
"Kind of obvious, goddamnit. Oh well. I listen to it sometimes so they shouldn't give a fuck."
The familiar tune of NIN's "Closer" was playing.
Craig laughs a bit at Stan's smile, and runs his hands up Stan's arms. "You're so stupidly cute," he says, his own smile forming. He hopes Stan knows he meant stupid in the fact that it's stupid how cute Stan is, not that Stan is stupid or something.
He brings a hand up Stan's neck and into his hair to bring him down for a kiss.
Stan descended, guided partly by Craig's hand and actually wanting to bend down to kiss the other. Tilting his head to meet the other's lips more comfortably, he ran his hands behind Craig's neck, trailing his fingernails lightly up the curve of his scalp and then to the back of his head as he moved from his lips to his neck. Kissing lightly downwards, he reached the point right above Craig's collar bone, and then nipped the skin there with his teeth lightly.
"I was being stupid," He muttered into Craig's shoulder, his breath warming the area because he was so close. "I'm really sorry."
Craig continues to play lightly with Stan's hair as Stan kisses down his neck, and Craig turns his head to the side to give Stan better access. It's a slightly foreign concept, to have Stan be the one doing that. Sure, Stan bites him, but Craig is normally the one kissing all over Stan. "That's alright," Craig says, not really wanting to talk anymore. If they're going to have sex, they should just do it before they ruin it for themselves again.
Stan reached one hand to undo his pants, but at the same time, he kept his other hand on Craig's hair - using his knees in order to keep himself above Craig, straddling him. Kissing Craig's shoulder, he undid his pants and then slipped them down a ways with his boxers, using the same hand. Stopping a moment, he looked Craig in the eyes and then frowned as he said, "...you in the mood, or...?" He hadn't really been doing anything, and Stan was worried he killed the mood completely. Even with Closer playing in the background, something was missing. Like Craig's involvement in the act - Stan felt like he was doing a one man show. ...and then he got an idea.
"...do you want me to ride you?"
Craig's pulse lurches at the prospect of watching Stan ride him. "Yeah," he says, feeling his blood rush. "You should help me out of my pants, too." It's hard to hear over the music, but he's sure they won't be talking much anyway.
Then he wonders… If Stan's going to be doing all the work, does he still want Craig to prepare him, or… Craig bites his lip, trying not to think too much about it before it happens. Does Stan even have lubricant, anyway?
Hearing Craig agree to his question, Stan's own heartbeat started skipping, and he looked around towards his nightstand. Leaning over, he pulled it open and took out a bottle of lubricant, and then didn't bother shutting it as he leaned back up and tossed it on the bed near Craig's head.
"Yeah, your pants...um..." He scooted downwards so he could unfasten Craig's jeans, and then started tugging them down, lifting his hips a bit so he could maneuver a bit more easily. Once he had moved Craig's boxers down a little to expose him, he moved off of Craig to pull his pants down and remove his shirt standing off to the side of the bed. God, having a twin was so annoying.
"Uh...so do I just...or do you want to..."
Now that Stan's naked, Craig takes the time to look at him while he just stands there. Stan really does have a nice body; sports were good to him. Craig works out sometimes, sure, but not as intensively as Stan probably did. Or does.
"Do you just what?" he asks, knowing Stan is thinking the same thing he had been a few moments prior. He just wants to hear Stan say it. He pats his thighs for Stan to come back and straddle him again. He's got a smirk on his face, but it's not mean. It's more because this situation is both amusing and extremely arousing. He can feel his cock throbbing with all the blood that's being pumped into it.
Putting a hand on his other arm, rubbing it self-consciously, he looked away for a moment, trying to figure out whether he should shove something in his mouth. 'Perfect Drug' was playing now, and it was loud, but he didn't know if he was louder. Deciding against it, he straddled Craig again, his legs on either side and the curve of his backside pressed against Craig, as he was sitting a ways up on him.
"Do you want me to ...uh...do myself?"
It seemed only logical, if he was doing all the work anyways...but he felt sort of stupid doing everything and watching Craig lay there.
Craig catches his breath as Stan sits essentially on his dick. After a second, he looks up at Stan with that same glint in his eye. "You mean should you finger yourself?" he asks, unable to resist rocking his hips against Stan's once. "I think that would be hot," he says, smirking up at Stan because he knows it'll make Stan flush with embarrassment. He does have to admit though, honestly, that the thought of Stan leaning over him, falling to pieces at his own touch, is extremely fucking exciting.
His face was turning red already at Craig's suggestion, and he was turning even more red after the other gyrated against him. He could feel Craig's member rubbing against him from his backside, so he was a little more than in a suggestible position for something like the other moving his hips. He moved to grab the lube from the bed, leaning forwards and putting a few inches between Craig and himself as he knelt above him. Once he covered one hand with lubricant, he tossed the bottle aside and put his non-lubed hand on the other side of Craig's head - his eyes closed as he put his hand back behind himself. It took him awhile to actually insert his fingers back there, because somehow it seemed abnormal to do this to oneself. He was tempted to pull out whenever he felt strong sensations even when he was expecting them, and it made him gasp as he tried to move two, then three fingers back. "...uh, ah..okay..are you ready." He opened his eyes, his chest moving up and down as he breathed heavily on top of Craig.
Craig has to bite his lip to keep from saying anything as he lays there under Stan. Stan's face was such a red color, his eyes screwed shut, his breath coming in short pants, his body trembling just the slightest bit. He can feel the heat radiating off Stan's body, and he delights in each gasp Stan utters. It takes all of Craig's will power not to touch Stan, to interrupt his process, to throw him down and give him a real reason to gasp. By the time Stan speaks, Craig is barely containing himself. It's torture to sit and watch like this, so all too quickly he says, "Fuck yes." His cock is painfully hard and strained, and all he wants is to be inside Stan. The anticipation is killing him as he waits for Stan to start.
He looked slightly worried as he heard Craig's response, and he decided to back up, lifting himself by a half kneeling, half straightening himself upwards position. Moving in reverse an inch or two, he looked down at Craig. On some level, this should have been demeaning, just doing all the work and having Craig watch like he was some sort of kink show; but for some reason, because it was Craig it was okay.
With his legs slightly shaking, he put a hand on Craig's stomach, then lowered himself and held Craig's cock with his other hand. At first, it was difficult to position himself because he was so nervous. Working his way over Craig, he began impaling himself with the other, his body trembling, his eyes closed as he did so. He had been biting his lower lip as he did it, then moved to clenching his teeth, and finally let out a pained groan. By the time Craig was fully in him, he was nearly panting, and he opened his eyes to look at Craig, his hands now on Craig's sides.
Craig hisses when he feels Stan's hand on him, lining him up with Stan's entrance. He holds himself back from moving as Stan slowly lowers on him. By the time Stan is fully seated on him, Craig is breathing heavily right along with Stan. He somehow senses to open his eyes and locks them with Stan's as the other looks back at him. He brings his hands up to Stan's thighs, massaging them lightly with his thumbs and the pads of his fingers in a soothing way. This is probably a bit overwhelming for Stan to have to do the work for once, so he wants to make sure Stan is actually okay.
"Ughhh..Craig," He breathed, trying to convey how he was overwhelmed, but he took a moment to bend himself forwards a little, even though his body was already arched to accommodate Craig. With his eyes closed again, he pulled himself upwards and then slowly went back down again. His jaw was clenched, his eyes closed tightly - if he cried, he knew Craig would totally see it and there was no way he wanted that to happen, not right now.
He moved up and down, his body shaking. Forcing Craig into him every time with rapid succession, though still not as fast as he could be going- he breathed with every motion, his hands on Craig - digging into his sides. "Ah- ahhh.." He shook, his head bowing down, his bangs falling over his eyes as he tried to collect himself.
Craig watches as Stan begins to actually ride him. He's only able to watch for a minute before he has to screw his own eyes shut. God. Fucking. Damn. If he continues to watch, he doesn't think he'll last long. He can feel Stan's nails in his sides, but he doesn't even care. His skin is hypersensitive so it even adds to his pleasure. He cracks his eyes back open, unable to resist, and he sees Stan quaking, and it just goes straight to Craig's dick. Stan feels that fucking good right now, and it's sort of because of Craig, even if Stan is the one moving, and it makes Craig glad that he can do this for Stan. Craig doesn't even know what to do with himself, he just feels fucking fantastic.
"O-oh my god.." Stan was quaking on top of Craig, his eyes shut as he tried to go faster, but he was shaking so much that it was impossible for him to concentrate on anything but movement. And the movement felt so insanely intense that it was making him lose control of what he was doing altogether. He barely had a moment to reach over and grab his shirt, hanging from the side of the bed - barely - and he put it underneath him so he didn't release on Craig. He wasn't there yet, however - even though his body was slick with sweat, and his face red - he continued to reverse thrust the other inside of him.
After several long minutes pass, Craig can't contain himself any longer. He has to do something. He's being too stimulated to not act. He doesn't want to thrust, for fear of startling Stan and knocking him over or something – that would be fucking terrible. So instead he brings a hand up from where he'd been gripping Stan's thighs and wraps it around Stan's dick. He starts to pump him raggedly, not able to think enough to match Stan's pace. He doesn't know how much longer he'll last, and he bites down hard on his lip to keep from groaning or otherwise vocalizing.
"Ah- ahhh - ah, oh my god..uhgn," Stan gasped, trying to concentrate - but the addition of Craig's hand had thrown him off, and he couldn't contain himself any longer. Between short groans of pleasure, and Craig's stroking, he finally went on the shirt that was settled on Craig's stomach. Shaking a little more violently now as he leaned back a little, his body effectively arching as he was immobilized for a moment after his release, clearly due to physical exhaustion; he tried picking up his speed again as he moaned, digging so hard into Craig's hips that he was sure he couldn't go any further without drawing blood. Now his bangs were sleek against his forehead, so his eyes were visible as they were firmly pressed shut, and his mouth agape as he vocalized himself.
Craig feels Stan release, and it's not long before Craig does as well. He appreciates that Stan continued to move even after he came, surprised that Stan had the presence of mind to remember to do so. "Mm, Stan…" he manages as he comes. He lets his muscles relax into the mattress as he lays there, breathing deeply as he looks up at Stan's flushed face.
As soon as Craig came, Stan stayed where he was, hunched over as he gripped the other's hips, letting himself breath finally before he lifted himself with much effort off of Craig. Falling to his side, but carefully not falling off the bed, he laid on his side with one arm draped over Craig's chest and his head against the other's shoulder, breathing erratically until he finally managed to calm himself. He grabbed the shirt that was on Craig, and with one arm folded it in half to cover what was already on it - and then he wiped himself and threw it on the floor. His arm returned to its place on Craig's chest, feeling his shoulder blade, then trailing down his muscles to settle on the other's abs. Stan's other arm was beneath his head, but in a way he could still reach up and comb his fingers through Craig's slightly dampened hair; obviously from profuse sweating during the act. Or maybe the sweat was Stan's from own palm - he didn't know. His skin felt like the room was the Antarctic, now that he wasn't moving and his slickened skin was cooling.
"I love you," He muttered, clearly spent from performing for Craig.
Craig wraps the arm under Stan around his back and sighs as Stan touches him. "I love you too," he says, his breathing mostly returned to normal. He tries to work the covers out from under them and pulls them up over their bodies. "That was fun," he says, giving Stan a tired smirk before letting his eyes fall shut. After a moment, he notices that the music is still on. It had become background noise, barely noticeable, but no he notices and it's way too loud to sleep through. "Do you want me to go shut that off?" he asks.
"Oh god, yeah." Stan said, as the music he realized was playing Rammstein - du hast. What a great song for fucking one's ex-enemy. He was momentarily bitter at the prospect that Craig would actually have to leave the bed, therefore leaving him exposed, waiting for his return - but he reluctantly moved his arm away so Craig could maneuver out from under the newly positioned covers. With a sigh, he closed his eyes and waited impatiently for the other to proceed.
Craig gets up, and his legs almost feel numb as he makes his way over to the stereo. He quickly makes his way back to the bed and lays back in his original position, hugging Stan tight to his chest. He's on his back, though, and he's not sure if the position is weird for Stan so he lets him go, free to move wherever he wants. Craig doesn't care how they sleep, ever, as long as he's got Stan pressed up against him somehow.
"Welcome back," He muttered as he snuggled up to Craig, wondering why the other suddenly moved his arm back after putting it where he wanted it. Deciding not to nitpick, he shrugged it off and put his head right under Craig's chin, tilted in a way so he could kiss the other's shoulder still as he laid there. Figuring maybe Craig wanted direction, he said, "Hug me," even though his mind was thinking of adding, 'bitch' to the end of that statement. Why, he didn't know. Maybe he really just wanted a hug after all that goddamn work.
Craig smiles at Stan's demand and wraps his arms back around him. "Good night, Stan," he says quietly, now that the music is off. It's quiet, peaceful, and he doesn't doubt that he'll be asleep in no time.
"Night, Craig," He said as he relished in the quiet. It was sort of annoying having the music on, but it made him feel less stressed that no one heard what they were doing over the rifts from the music. He drifted off after only a few minutes, his mind completely empty except for enjoying the feeling of completely, unconditionally loving the person he was snuggled up to right now.