A/N We're here. Finally, FINALLY, we're here. Yay, I'm all excited now... so. Review. Please, please review, because the chapter and the six more that follow it are certainly my favorites. This one's nice and long, as well, so dig in. I won't keep you any longer!
Thanks to ObanesHarvest, SparklesMakeMeHappy, and NightmareMyLove (of course I had to thank you! XD And look, I am again :P)
Disclaimer I don't own South Park or any associated characters, events, etc.
Stage 9. ([[{f.a.u.x.—c.l.i.m.a.x}]])
10:17 pm
July 30th, 2011
South Park, Colorado
Bebe: Just hold on.
"Aw, come on, you're such a pussy," Craig snickered, pausing halfway across the carpeted floor. "But then again… you always have been, haven't you? Oh, dear…" His voice was a sarcastic drawl. Tweek remained utterly frozen, his face an awful waxy color, eyes fixated on Craig. "Go on, then," he laughed humorlessly, "ask your little girlfriend for help. I'd like to see what she's gonna try and do. Nothing can save you now, Tweek… you're mine…"
Well, he certainly wouldn't turn away as open an allowance as that. Hands shaking horribly, he quietly tapped in the letters, the words, explaining, describing, begging.
Me: he looks angry...
please
Bebe: tell me your address. now.
Me: 4589 black street South Park CO
"All right, enough time… enough playing. C'mere, now, little spaz."
I
he's...
Bebe: okay. if something happens...bash the keyboard with your elbow, if that's all you can do. I'll call for help. Okay?
Craig lunged, and Tweek threw himself back, hitting the keyboard not with his elbow, but whole body.
Me: idhgsndl s assahsabnl,mdjasasd
kusjhsdah;kfhbagha
jb ;vasjdghdskgdadhf
bhgjknjhmbbnhnjmhbnjmhnmj
nm nm m,nmjnhjbbnhmjnjmh
His head hit the table, and his senses rang dark for half a second. Then he became aware of Craig looming over him, leering, but his head was now aching in two places, and stars were swimming before his eyes. His head lolled dazedly as Craig gripped his shoulders and threw him to ground. Everything hurt as his body slammed into the thin carpet heavily, and he lay there, a fog seeming to overlay all of his senses, feeling ready to vomit. Time seemed to be moving oddly, so he didn't notice the hesitation while Craig stole a glance at the computer screen.
Bebe: Okay. Okay. I'm calling.
CRAIG TUCKER, DO YOU HEAR THAT?
Craig looked over at Tweek, lying semiconscious on the ground, eyes half-closed and stirring feebly, then returned to the keyboard to quickly ask exactly what she might be talking about.
Me: Hear what?
Bebe: I AM FUCKING DIALING THE NUMBER
Me: I don't care.
This is my last night with him
It was his last night. That was the first part of his plan, the indulgent part. He'd allow himself a last night, one last night.
Tweek saw the blurred form of Craig turning to face him again, and he let out a weak whimper of protest, turning his head away. Then he felt the rough hands grasping his shoulders, pulling him up so fast that his neck screamed a painful protest before tipping forward. He let it hang, blinking slowly in a pathetic attempt to clear his vision. But then Craig caught his chin between his own long fingers and tilted it upwards, so that Tweek had nowhere to look but into his dark, passionate eyes.
"This is it, pretty boy," he breathed, voice so soft, though it still rang in Tweek's ears—everything seemed to be ringing. His breath managed to worm its way down Tweek's throat, tickling it, aggravating it. He moaned, but not before Craig took a handful of his hair and pulled their faces together with all the ferocity he possessed, so that Tweek could feel his lips bruise instantly. Craig laughed, and bit down on Tweek's bottom lip until it bled, then licked up the blood, and, pushing the smaller boy back so he fell to the ground again, forced his tongue deeper into his mouth, curling around the edges of his teeth, slamming into the insides of his cheeks, going too deep, until Tweek retched faintly.
Bebe: And what's going to happen after?
why is this your last night?
Her words, and the little flash of orange that topped the chat box, went unnoticed by both of the boys, who were now sprawled on the ground, Craig on top of Tweek, still forcing their lips and tongues among each other. His hands, however, were freed, to curl around the top of the other's collar, even as he kneed at his crotch, letting out a pleased sigh as he felt Tweek's cock harden below his rough prods.
"There you go, pretty boy, that's it," he gasped between ferocious kisses, "but don't go thinking that you'll be using that, because you won't, that's my job…" He tore at the front of Tweek's shirt, so that the uneven buttons popped and went flying across the room, one of them hitting the corner of the computer screen, the pixels of which instantly went different colors, branching out from the lines of impact like a spider web.
"I forgot about your little girlfriend over there," he rasped against Tweek's throat, biting at the soft flesh for a moment before continuing. "Should we go and see what she's up to?"
Tweek barely heard the words. He felt detached from his body, from every shock of pain, though he still dully recognized that he was screaming. His only response was another low whimper, at which Craig laughed near-hysterically.
"All right, pretty boy." Tearing off the rest of Tweek's shirt, he gathered the skinny boy up to his chest, pressing his face to his own throat as he rose to his feet. "It's like in a fairy tale," he hissed into the mess of spiky blonde hair as he half-carried, half-dragged him over to the computer. Every bit of his body was screaming in protest at having to wait, but he wanted to drag things out this last time, make them last as long as he could, and he knew that meant extending the period before climaxing. He had to use this time. "It's like I'm the gallant old prince, carrying the little blonde, fainting princess. Pretty accurate, huh? Only this time, it won't be happily ever after." His voice cracked at those words as their truth coursed through him, and he pinned Tweek to the table again, glaring at Bebe's latest message and typing with one hand.
Me: I know it's over.
I know i have to go to the cops now.
Bebe: Okay.
Lifting his hand from the keyboard, he used it to pull his shirt up and over his head, throwing it hard across the room and pressing up against Tweek, his muscular chest pushing against the other boy's bony one, sliding in a few more hungry kisses. He looked up for half a moment, almost brightly excusing the long pauses between their text-speech.
Me: Sorry it's really hard to fuck & type at the same time
Tweek groaned again. The pain was getting farther away… he felt as though he were falling… how bizarre, how…
Bebe: sigh
He started to return to Tweek, this time reaching for his waistband, then noticed that he seemed to have completely fainted, lying limply against the wooden desktop. Scoffing, he shoved him to the floor with an elbow. He hit it in a crumpled heap. Rolling his eyes in exasperation, Craig returned to the keyboard.
Me: anyways.
Bebe: Are you hearing the sirens yet?
Me: i wanted him to know
that even though i abuse him, even though i make him do things he doesn't wanna do...
He thought about Tweek then, about the boy lying unconscious at his feet… about how, no matter what, through everything, he'd stood by Craig, supported him, given him all he had… always, ceaselessly, devoted…
I love him
Bebe: ...
okay.
Okay.
Then it's done.
You've lost, and yet you've won...
Me: I'm gone now.
Bebe: But when you get out of prison, which I'm sure they'll put you in...
Me: I just wanted him to know...that...
Craig fell to his knees then, doubled over, bracing himself against the ground with his forearms and palms, fingers stretching over the carpet, digging into it. His eyes burned. That all this time… I wanted you to know…
Tweek, I wanted you to know…
He made his way over to where Tweek lay sideways, eyes closed, breathing shallowly, and positioned himself carefully, tenderly, laying the blonde boy's head in his lap, touching the side of his pale face, resisting the urge to do what he wanted to, to tear off his clothes and soothe his body's desires rather than his heart's.
But he wouldn't. This last time, he wouldn't.
"Tweek," he whispered brokenly, unaware of the throbbing tears that were inching hotly down his cheeks. His lips brushed against the other boy's ear. "Tweek… please… I—I'm so sorry…"
Tweek's eyes opened slowly, focusing on him, and his mouth opened in a fearful squeak. "C-Craig… don't… don't hurt me! Don't…" He was so small, so beautiful, eyes teary and face blotchily flushed…
"No," Craig gasped through weak, scattered sobs. "No… Tweek… never… I was so… so selfish… I can't believe what a—what a fucking bastard I was to you…" He wanted to kiss him, wanted to so badly, but he didn't. Instead, he gently supported his torso, and held that scruffy blonde head to his chest, rocking back and forth and moaning lowly, feeling Tweek's tears joining the thin sheen of sweat on his chest, and not caring about the sting of salt, not caring, not caring, because pain didn't matter right now, not physical pain, that he could handle… but this other pain, this horrible, stone-heavy thing in his chest… that was something else…
"The police are coming," he whispered roughly to Tweek. "They're coming for me, I'm—I'm so sorry…"
"I love you," Tweek mumbled, his voice muffled against Craig's chest.
"Tweek… oh, god, I love you, too, I love you, I swear I love you, no matter what, I love you, okay?"
Tweek seemed to be able to support himself now as he drew back, tears shining heavier than ever in his large eyes. "Y-yes," he choked. "I knew it was true… I knew there was something… even when you hurt me…"
Bebe: he'll be waiting for you.
And that's what matters.
The chat box flashed orange. Craig looked up. "Go tell her," he pleaded to Tweek. "Go… go tell her that I… that I…"
Crying. Crying like a fucking pussy girl, but he didn't care. He wanted to disappear inside himself. He hugged himself desperately as Tweek pulled away, and was barely aware of him limping over to the desk…
Me: ow
ok
so I'm leaning on the desk now...my body still incredibly sore...
he pulled back early...
Bebe: are they there yet?
Me: & now he's sitting on the floor crying...
i am normally the one who cries...
Then he heard something, playing at the edges of his hearing, but growing steadily louder, until, by the time he'd fully registered the screeching wail, it was deafening.
wait-
Sirens.
They were here.
They had come to take him.
YES I DUNNO HOW TO CALL IT OFF I DON'T WANT HIM TO GO TO JAIL!
I DON'T WANT HIM TO
i can't do anything!
they...
Bebe: He'll have a case.
Me: I feel so exposed...i feel so helpless...
Bebe: I can probably be there, if you want...
Me: I DON'T CARE I CAN'T WAIT!
Bebe: The formalities have to be gone through. After that...it's happened!
Don't you see?
You've done it!
Me: I-i want to lay in bed with him i want to HUG him i want to VOLUNTARILY kiss him...
Bebe: Yes!
Me: i want to be with him right now...
i
i have never cried as hard as i am now...
Bebe: Even with a little bit of sacrifice, even if you have to stay away from each other for a while...
you'll get there, in the end.
you'll get there.
no matter what
because you love each other.
Me: i don't want to stay away from him...he's all i had...
Bebe: And you still have him
and now... you always will.
Me: i don't want to give him away for the littlest while...
Bebe: Stay with him. All through it. Stay with him.
Shoving the keyboard away from himself, Tweek limped back over to where Craig sat sobbing, and reached up to his face, twining his trembling fingers through the silkiness of his black hair. "Craig… please…" he whimpered, willing the other boy to look him in the eye. "I—I n-need you to look at me! I need you, th-they're coming! P-please, just…"
But Craig couldn't face him, he couldn't, because if he did, he wouldn't be able to handle it anymore… without his permission, his head lifted, and he blinked away the veil of tears that separated him and Tweek, so that he could see him, see all of him—the bruises on his left cheekbone, where Craig had thrown him against the desk, the tear lines that traced grimy paths down his flushed cheeks, the swelling from a forgotten blow that rendered one of his eyes half-shut, the bite mark on his lip, from which blood still dripped sluggishly.
He was such a mess.
He was so gorgeous.
"I can't," Craig gasped. Now his hands were the ones shaking as he reached out and lightly brushed them over Tweek's hair, not hard, only letting its spiky edges tickle his sensitive fingertips. "I can't let you go, I can't, I…"
"The police," Tweek wailed as the unlocked door downstairs creaked open. He threw his arms around Craig's neck and buried his face in his shoulder. He was crying, crying so hard… he could hardly breathe through the suffocating sounds.
Craig, who was also crying, though silently now, was at a loss. Tweek's shirt, though still unbuttoned, hung limply around his shoulders. Tenderly, he pulled it a bit tighter at the neck, then let his arms circle around the smaller boy, holding him tight and rocking him, wanting so badly to stay like that forever, forever…
But he'd arrived with a plan. And he wouldn't be leaving until it was complete.
They have to think I'm raping him.
"I love you, I love you," Craig whispered harshly as footsteps sounded on the stairs outside. "I—I promise—I'm so sorry, but I have to…" Then he shoved at Tweek, as hard as he could, so that, shocked, the blonde boy landed sprawled on the floor.
"Craig, what—"
The stream of tears was getting heavier again. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, but they have to think…" His words were cut off as he kissed Tweek on the mouth, as hard as he could, aggravating the bruises that had formed earlier, while positioning his hands so that it might look as though he'd only just torn Tweek's shirt. Squeezing his eyes shut, he made sure to savor that one, final kiss, drawing it out as much as he could, ever so slightly gentler than he would have been in true abuse, letting Tweek know that this wasn't really all there was to him, that he was doing this for the smaller boy's own good… his mouth tasted like coffee, no surprise—not anything exotic, just plain black coffee, like the two of them had drank together so many times, huddled up together in winter gear, blowing the steam off each other's cups… but that sweetly bitter taste was mixed with blood, blood from an injury that he, Craig, had inflicted…
The door banged open, and, after one last, long moment, Craig drew back and stood up, wiping away his tears with a sleeve and kicking at Tweek for good measure. "What do you want?" he asked the single policeman hoarsely.
The man's eyes were obscured behind dark glasses, but the cool fire in his attitude was all too apparent. He aimed a rather intimidatingly heavy-duty gun at Craig's heart. "You aren't going to move. You do have the right to remain silent."
"I relinquish that right," Craig replied in a fabricated bored tone. "You're right, though, I'm not going to move. And you're not going to shoot me, either."
"Don't be so sure, boy."
"Oh, but I am. Even you aren't that stupid."
Tweek whimpered and made a move to get up, but Craig kicked him again, making sure to position his foot so that it looked worse than it was. With a muted squeak, the blonde went still again.
"Step away from him," the officer instructed.
"You told me not to move."
"Don't be smart with me."
Sighing, Craig took a step and a half away from Tweek's tiny, shaking form, trying desperately to ignore the shuddering, high-pitched crying that was coming from him. He crossed his arms, but not before the policeman lunged forward, sheathing his gun, and grabbed his arm with a strong hand.
"I'm going to handcuff you," he said.
"How melodramatic of you."
The metal handcuffs slid into place with heavy clinks, cutting into his wrists. Tweek's sobs grew into horrible, anguished caterwauls, but Craig's expression remained stony.
"Tweek," he called softly. "Hold on for me, okay?"
"No! N-no…"
"Stay here, son," the officer instructed Tweek in what he seemed to consider a fatherly tone. "Let me deal with him…" Craig was careful not to let out any pained sounds while he was grabbed by the shoulders and hauled towards the door.
"NO!" Tweek's voice was nothing so much as a scream, a single, high-pitched syllable ringing through the night, eerily in sync with a crack of lightning that flashed across the room, casting everything into sharp, merciless relief. As if on cue, rain began to pound against the window, and a great burst of thunder shook the floor, not quite drowning out the sirens still wailing outside the house. Stumbling over on all fours, he reared up and grasped Craig's forearm, pulling it closer to him, holding it as tightly as he could in his thin, bony hands. "NO! GIVE HIM BACK TO ME!"
"It's best you back off," the officer advised coldly, his former kindness abandoned, "before he kicks you again."
"He won't, he doesn't—it's not like that!" Tweek pleaded. "I don't know why he was acting like that, but it's not really—he's not abusive, I swear, I can prove it, just give him back!"
No, you idiot! Ignoring the tears that were beginning to burn in his eyes once more, Craig swung his leg out at Tweek and caught him around the back of his knees, so that his legs folded and he dropped face-first into the carpet. Slowly, the blonde boy looked up, hurt and disbelief in his shadowed eyes. Craig jerked his head in the opposite direction, refusing to look, unable to look.
Tweek stood, shaking all over, staring at the back of Craig's hanging head. Then, ever so gradually, he stumbled back and fell into the swivel chair in front of the desk. His head started to spin again as the policeman pulled at Craig, and he squeezed his eyes shut, fighting the insistent dizziness, as he turned to type, to beg for help.
Me: i just...
Bebe: Follow them, stay with him.
They aren't taking him.
Me: they won't let me near him...
Bebe: CAN I GET AN OFFICER OVER HERE?
Goddammit
He didn't even see her writing. He was too busy telling her about it. He typed in the words, the letters, steadily, one at a time, so that each tap rang through the room.
Me: they walked in on us...
they automatically assumed he was raping me because i was screaming to stop & i was crying & fighting it...
Bebe: can you get one over here? on the computer?
This time, her request didn't go unnoticed. A hint of hope, tiny but still there, glowed inside of him, and the next sentence sped out much faster.
Me: yeah! they haven't left yet!
"Um… s-sir?" Tweek called out tentatively, tasting salt from the tears still edging down his cheeks.
"Yes?" The officer looked up.
"O-over here… on the computer… our friend… sh-she wants to talk to y-you…"
Bebe: okay.