Craig's POV
"Duuuude," chirped Kyle from high atop his boulder. "We are hella lost."
I didn't bother to look up from the map as Kyle carefully picked his way down from his scouting post. "Stop saying 'hella'. Who still says 'hella' besides douchebags on the West Coast? And we're not lost. We're just… pleasantly surprised by where we are."
Sprawled diagonally across the gingham cloth between the unpacked contents of our picnic, Kenny lowered a bunch of grapes into Butters' mouth like he was a decadent Greek emperor.
"My Scoutmaster told us that moss always grows facing civilization," Butters said through a mouthful of pulp. He swallowed, then grinned wryly. "That's pretty much all I remember from that one week I was in Scouts."
I squinted down at the wrinkled paper. Stan's Uncle Jimbo had given us a map showing where we could score some choice weed in the woods around Stark's Pond. My finger trailed along the indentation marks where the gun nut's finger had lain a bit too heavily with the pencil.
"So…" I hummed as the guys gathered around. "This," I traced a loose crescent around a rocky formation on the diagram. "Is that."
"No dude," Kyle said, grabbing my finger and readjusting it from where I'd been pointing. "That is that. See? We're on, like, the other side of it."
"But it makes a skull. See the skull?"
"No way! It makes a rabbit. See? These two rocks are the ears."
"Those are eye sockets!"
"My ass!"
Tweek, who was seemingly just content to be along for the ride, listed away to idly jab at a clump of moss with a stick.
"Look, whatever. If we keep heading west, eventually we'll hit the train tracks. I can direct us from there."
Breaking from the huddle, we all joined the lovebirds on the picnic blanket, making quick work of the spread Butters had packed for us. Kyle popped off his boots and massaged his tired feet while Kenny leveraged his leg up on a jagged rock, stretching like a ballerina about to do some plies.
Once everyone was decently rested, we packed up the remnants of the picnic and reassembled ourselves. Kyle took point, since he (allegedly) knew where the fuck we were going, and everyone else followed single file behind him. Tweek and me formed the rear.
Once Kenny's scrawny orange butt rounded a bend in the thicket in front of us, Tweek lifted himself up on his tiptoes and pressed his lips against my cheek.
"What was that for?"
He grinned. "I need a reason?"
"No," I flushed slightly, burying my nose back into my map. "Guess not."
After ten or so minutes of steady walking we emerged on a sort of clearing overrun with thicket and brambles. At the center was the craggy dome of a massive boulder, probably left here by glaciers millions of years ago.
"I think this is it."
As I squinted at the faded print, Kenny scampered up one of the eye sockets to get a better look.
"You see anything Ken?"
"Yeah. Lots of trees and rocks and shit."
"That's helpful. Thank you."
Kenny leaned his arm out over the precipice, flipping me off from above.
"FOUND IT!"
I barrel rolled out of the way just in time for Kenny to touch down near where I'd been resting against the trunk of a tree. "It's up ahead a bit. Big clearing between the ears - can't miss it. And Kyle was right - it's a bunny. There are buck teeth carved on a rock muzzle."
I avoided Kyle's shit-eating grin as I neatly folded the map and slipped it back into my satchel. Our boots crunched through the frozen pine boughs carpeting the ground as magpies rioted anxiously overhead.
"Soooh…," came a nudge at my shoulder. "What kind of weed is it?"
"Dunno," I slipped my hand around Tweek's slender waist, holding him close as we picked our way through the underbrush. "Stan's Uncle Jimbo usually grows indica-dominant strains. It's the shit I give you when you're spazzing out and need to calm down."
"Ooh, fun!"
Tweek was in a mood. Had been since our little pep talk. He had become very… um… affectionate as of late.
Which wasn't a bad thing.
"Hey Craig?"
"Yeah?"
"I've been wondering something."
"What?"
Lips leaned in, pressing to my ear. "I've been wondering how my boyfriend manages to squeeze that big juicy ass of his into those jeans."
I cluster-swatted him off to his peals of childish giggling. Once he was out of my radius for some time and felt safe that I wouldn't smack him again, Tweek reappeared by my side. Wasting no time, he hooked his arm into mine.
Though I considered pushing him off, I didn't. There was limited opportunity for PDA at school, and our usual alone time consisted of quick, meticulously arranged hugs in the boys' bathroom, sleepovers at our respective houses, and forays into the woods. It made me long for our future studio apartment in Seattle. Plaid shirts, hipster beards, and endless stretches of rainy weather just perfect for Ray Bradbury novels and cuddling on the couch.
"Is, uuh…" I fumbled for conversation. "Did your dad ever hear back about that job offer?"
"Nope. And it's been three weeks."
"So… we're probably in the clear then?"
Tweek grinned. "Wow. You were really stressing that. Weren't you?"
"No. Just… following up."
"Mm-hm."
There was mischief in those darkly-shadowed eyes. I felt a rock sinking into my stomach.
Sure enough, just as soon as Kenny's orange parka disappeared beyond a thicket of green fronds up ahead, I was rounded on. Tweek's fingers burrowed into my vest collar and I was pivoted around, Judo-pinned against the closest tree.
"H-hey!" I squeaked.
His knee was wedged up between my legs, I was being held aloft by my vest collar, and we were suddenly kissing that rough, angry-looking kiss endemic to 14-year-old boys wandering the woods in search of the devil's astro turf.
Why do I like him so much, I thought to myself, flushing red as my hands reflexively banded around his waist. I mean… besides all the obvious reasons, that is.
He's twitchy and weird. He looks as if he hasn't eaten or slept in weeks. He skips showers every other day and cocoons himself in my bed sheets on chilly nights.
Then again, we like the same movies, play the same games, read the same books, and the slightest touch from his long spidery fingers sends a shiver racing up my spine. A good shiver. A welcome shiver.
I allowed my wrists to be pinned to the tree's jagged bark as our tongues vied for dominance.
You know he planned this, right? came an indignant voice from inside my head. He and those other blondes. They're schemers. In cahoots. I blinked. Do people still say 'cahoots'? Who still says 'cahoots'?
I suddenly became aware that his kisses were traveling south. I blinked as one cleared my collar bone. W-wh?
Tweek's knees were in the fallen leaves. I looked down at him, blinking, mouth agape.
"You're not."
A mischievous grin. "I am."
"The guys!" I hissed.
My belt buckle was being fiddled with. "Kenny and Butters have been well compensated to run interference for me."
A million panicky thoughts raced through my mind. Hikers. How many days of usage my underwear had seen. How many floral print scarves Butters purchased with all his hush money.
Belt. Button. Zipper. Cool air touching where cool air doesn't usually touch. My fingernails digging into soft bark. His hands sneaking up beneath the hem of my shirt.
Before I could protest further, it started. At first it felt strange. Then okay. Then great. Then amazing.
I focused on a bramble bush across the way. One woodchuck chased another woodchuck through a thicket, over a knotted root and out of sight. Cautiously, as though of its own volition, my trembling hand reached out, finding his nest of blonde hair and digging in.
He's good at this. Granted, this was my first blowjob ever and I therefore had nothing to compare it to. But there was no way in hell Tweek wasn't super good at this.
My cheeks flushed a darker shade of scarlet. Heated breath plumed before me in the cool morning air, turning to little white puffs of clouds. I could hear my lungs expand and contract rhythmically, could feel the hammer of my heart thundering against my ribcage.
Was I being too rough? Could he breathe? He hasn't come up for air. Is it possible to suffocate doing… doing that? What would I tell his parents if he died? How does one even start that conversation?
But he seemed to be doing fine. He was certainly enthusiastic, I'll give him that.
Meanwhile, I'm vaguely aware of other tertiary sensations happening to my body. An ant crawling up my leg. The chafe of one expanse of sweaty sock wedged down between my first and second toe. The top of my half-exposed butt being scraped raw against an old oak.
I look down. Bad idea. Murky green eyes staring up at me. Now it's starting. In some deep, interior part of me. Rumbling. Buzzing to life.
His fingers played with my chest beneath my shirt. Head lolling back, the canopy wobbled above me as my vision went in and out of focus.
Should I warn hi- Whoops. Nevermind. Too late.
My body tensed up. Fingernails dug into tree bark as my other hand gripped the back of his head. An immense rush of relief, then an emptying. If my knees hadn't been locked, they might have buckled.
"I… ugf…" I heaved, palming the sweat from my face. "That was… that was…"
An audible Pop! and suddenly we were no longer connected. Tweek stood up, swatting the dirt and wet leaves from his knees. He looked at me, and I thought for a moment that he was leaning in for a kiss. But was wrong. I was so, SO wrong.
"Craig," came a gravelly, raspy voice.
Oh god. Oh god ohgodohgod… NO.
I twisted my face away from him, squealing behind closed lips.
"Craig," comes the wet-mouthed zombie croak again, this time perilously close to the side of my face. "I'm your sexy little zombie. Kiss me. Kiss me, Craig!"
I squealed out loud, eyes wrenching shut as I threw my entire weight against his chest. But Tweek is surprisingly wirey. My post-orgasm noodle arms barely budged him. He pinned me to the tree once again. I was helpless.
"NO!"
"Craig… kiss me on the mouth with lots of tongue, Craig!"
"OH MY GOD GET OFF ME YOU ARE SO GROSS!"
"Craig… don't say that Craig... zombies have feelings Craig!"
"NO THEY DON'T!"
"Hey guys," came a voice from the treeline a respectful distance off. "Are you done? We found the jazz cabbage while you two were… um…"
"Keep your fucking mouth shut, McCormick!" I shouted in the direction of the voice's echo.
"'Kay! Waiting on you yahoos though!"
I seized the opportunity to slip out of Tweek's clutches, elbowing him sharply in the ribs as I fixed myself, gathered up my backpack and set off at a brisk clip. Tweek chuckled and followed suit, saddling up beside me, matching my frantic pace with long strides from his skinny legs.
I thought that would be the end of it. But again, I was wrong.
Tweek leaned in. Suddenly there came the loudest, most theatrical gulp I'd ever heard in my life. Right against my ear canal.
