One week later...

Curled in the fetal position on the floor of a dirty janitor's closet, Tweek fought for breath in the stale, musty air. He clutched at his chest as his heart threw itself violently against his ribcage.

He couldn't believe it.

They'd kissed. Him and Craig.

Dear god… they actually kissed!

His throat was dry. His skin felt like it was on fire. Purple flecks of light swam across his vision as he tried to make sense of what just happened.

It was the single most bizarre, terrifying and wonderful experience of Tweek's young life. One minute he was walking down the hall, trying to think of a way to tell Craig how he felt about him. The next, Craig had appeared out of nowhere, grabbed him by the wrist and pulled Tweek into a janitor's closet.

And then they kissed! On the lips!

For those magical ten or fifteen seconds, the rest of the world seemed to bleed away, leaving just the two of them. Together. The only thing that had mattered to Tweek right then was the boy pinning him up against the wall, stealing the breath from his lungs.

Tweek knew he would remember this day forever. No question. It would probably be the last memory old age would ever take from him, long after he'd forgotten his parents or how to speak. He would fondly remember kissing Craig Tucker in this dirty janitor's closet until the day he died.

But right then, it was all too much. As though by reflex, the blonde made swift work of yanking his belt loose, working the button and zipper on his khakis, roughly shoving his pants down around his ankles. It wasn't even for pleasure. It was more like opening a valve to let off a buildup of steam.

Tweek cupped his hand over his mouth, hyperventilating through his fingers as he menaced himself with quick, aggressive strokes. The smell of Craig's cheap drugstore shampoo still clung to his palm where he'd stroked beneath the boy's poofball hat as they kissed. The scent was driving him crazy.

God how he wanted him. Tweek wanted Craig so fucking bad it hurt. It was like Craig had emptied an entire bottle of lighter fluid onto the flame Tweek had kept in his heart all these years.

Tweek's breathing grew wet and ragged as he fantasized about Craig kissing him again. He needed to feel Craig's hands holding him. Bounding him up in his strong embrace as they each found bare skin on the other to touch.

"Gfff!"

It ended up being a pretty shitty orgasm. Tweek was far too overstimulated for it to be enjoyable and it only took maybe twenty strokes to get to. He just bit down on his finger as it came and went, thankful he'd remembered to draw the hem of his shirt up a bit beforehand. Because damned if it didn't just go everywhere. The janitor's closet floor was certainly a little dirtier.

Recovering his senses, Tweek panicked anew at the prospect of getting caught. Hastily he stood and tugged up his shorts, dusting himself off as best as he could. He pressed his ear to the door, listening for traffic in the hallway. Once he was reasonably sure the coast was clear, he twisted the knob and slipped out.

Amazingly, the hall was vacant. Stalking quickly away, Tweek palmed the sweat from his face. He was a little more physically relaxed now, but his mind was still racing a mile a minute. He had no idea how he was going to make it through the rest of the school day. He didn't know how he was going to turn up at his parents' coffee shop for work afterward, or how he was going to manage small talk around the dinner table after everything that just happened.

But there was one thing he did know.

He knew this would never be enough. Oh no. Pandora's Box hadn't so much been opened as kicked the fuck over and shattered into a million pieces.

Tweek knew he had to have more.


Author's Note : Just so you know… next chapter, things ramp up SUPER hard.

It's gonna get graphic. So if you're below the age of eighteen or in any way not inclined towards three underage twinks getting hot 'n bothered together, you might wanna sit Chapter 3 out.

Just saying.