Welcome to a simple, smutty Creek one-shot. Because the boys deserve nice things ^_^

This is set in the same universe as my current long-form fic, The Bachelor Party. Since that fic is focused on the guys as adults, I wanted to write this separately as sort of a flashback to Craig and Tweek's relationship during high school…and to thank everyone for your supportive readership with the best reward of all: a good ol' fashioned sex scene ;)

Props to Aquaphobe's excellent writing for inspiring me to embrace my inner smutty author!

~Enjoy~

"Are we seriously doing this?"

Tweek stared at Craig, but the dark-haired boy just stared right back at him and shrugged. Tweek let out a sigh and buried his face in his hands. This at least elicited a stronger response from Craig, who came closer and placed his hand on the small of Tweek's back. Tweek felt a shiver move up his spine. Craig's mouth was dangerously close to his ear.

"You still want to…you know...right?" Craig murmured, his breath tickling Tweek's neck.

Tweek let out a small noise in the affirmative.

"Me too. And the only place we can do that is in the closet upstairs. We obviously can't do it in the living room. And there are people in the bathroom and the kitchen."

Tweek had suffered a hard-on all day since lunch, when he and Craig had snuck off to the single-occupancy disabled bathroom. Much to Tweek's dismay, their make-out session was cut short by a loud rapping on the door and a familiar voice calling out, "H-h-hey, is there anyone…anyone…anyone in there?"

Craig had grabbed Tweek's hand, flung open the door, and pulled him out of the bathroom, bringing them face-to-face with a bewildered Jimmy. Tweek held his breath.

"I was just helping out Tweek," Craig said, his face perfectly stoic. As Jimmy opened his mouth to speak, Craig yanked Tweek by the wrist, bringing their bodies closer. "What?" Craig said to Jimmy, his eyebrows starting to form a V. "Anxiety is a disability, too, asshole."

Without a word, Jimmy took a small step back to allow Craig and Tweek to push past him.

Once they had turned the corner down the hallway, Tweek emptied his lungs with a groan. "Ughhh! Do you think he bought it?"

Craig had just smirked back at him. "Dude, not a chance."

Now, standing in the corner of Clyde's living room, facing a bunch of drunk kids dancing poorly and making small talk about the state championships for a sport Tweek didn't follow, Tweek was still turned on. Between classes, a doctor's appointment, and homework that his mom made him finish before he was allowed to hang out with his friends, he hadn't found the time to rub one out, much less finish what he and Craig had started.

Hence why they needed to find a room in this house to fuck in, and pronto.

"Did you check Clyde's parents' room?" Tweek asked softly.

"Locked."

"But…"

"Tweek, it'll be fine," Craig breathed. Tweek shivered again and looked up at him. He wasn't sure what it was about Craig that was so goddamn compelling, but he felt like he lost all control when Craig was around.

Before Tweek knew what was happening, Craig laced his fingers through Tweek's and started leading him upstairs. As they got closer to Clyde's room, it took every fiber of Tweek's being not to bolt. The only thing keeping him in check was the warm, firm grip of Craig's hand. And when Craig stroked the side of Tweek's hand with his thumb… God, if Craig kept that up, Tweek would follow him to the ends of the earth.

As they stepped into Clyde's room, they were met with a chorus of cheers from the circle of teenagers sitting on the floor. Clyde stood up and clapped Craig on the back. "Hey, you came back! You guys should join us!" He motioned for Stan and Kyle to scoot over. Tweek and Craig got down on the floor, Tweek stick-straight and cross-legged, and Craig propped up on his arms, one leg bent and the other splayed casually.

Clyde sat down next to them and grabbed the empty beer bottle from the center of the circle. "I assume you guys know how to play."

Tweek glanced at Craig, who was nodding. Tweek nodded, too. He had never played Seven Minutes in Heaven, but he could follow along with Craig.

When Tweek had shown up at the party earlier that night, Craig ran downstairs to get him, just as the game was starting. All Tweek wanted to do was take Craig back to his own bedroom, but Craig couldn't just up and leave—it was his best friend's sixteenth birthday party, after all. Thus Tweek had resigned himself to the fact that he was going to have to deal with an almost-erection all night, especially given hours-long proximity to Craig. But Craig had other plans; he claimed he had somehow found a way to game the system, so that he and Tweek would definitely get paired together for Seven Minutes in Heaven, thereby allowing them seven blissful minutes in Clyde's closet, which nobody would think was inappropriate. It was, quite honestly, an excellent idea…assuming Craig wasn't bluffing.

Clyde placed the bottle gingerly on the ground. "Okay, so, you missed Stan and Bebe, then Kenny and Bebe. Bebe, you've having a great night, huh?"

Bebe turned beet red. "Fuck off, Donovan. Just get on with it."

"Alright, alright. Jeez." With a swift flick of the wrist, he sent the bottle spinning. It went around and around until finally, it began to slow down, until it landed smack in front of Craig. Tweek's eyes widened, as a chorus of oooooh's emanated from the circle of teens.

Clyde whistled. "Damn, Craig. Looks like it's your lucky night. Well, I guess that depends on who you get…" He eyeballed Cartman.

"Ay, fuck you!" Cartman gave him the finger. Tweek marveled at how a simple hand gesture could change so much based on the context. When Cartman did it, it was stupid and rude. When Craig did it, it was just fucking hilarious.

But then again, Tweek was a little biased.

Clyde spun the bottle again. Immediately, Craig leaned over to Tweek and whispered at an almost imperceptible volume, "Do what I told you."

Tweek quickly untangled his legs and stuck one out a little, pressing his toe of his sneaker into the carpet. Sure enough, as the bottle lost momentum, it finally came to a complete top right by Tweek. This time, the oooooh's were even louder.

"Shut up, you guys," Craig muttered, standing up and dusting himself off. "Come on, Tweek."

"Lucky motherfucker!" Cartman exclaimed.

Clyde turned to him, eyebrows raised. "What, you have a crush on Tweek or something?"

Cartman colored. "I'm not a queermo! All I'm saying is that Craig clearly cheated, and now he's getting away with it!"

"I didn't cheat, asswipe," Craig said flatly.

"Oh, right, just like you 'didn't cheat' at the match yesterday, huh?"

"Just because I can beat the best wrestler in Park County, and you can't, doesn't mean I'm cheating. It just means you suck at wrestling."

"You're not even supposed to be fighting him in the first place," Cartman grumbled.

There were so few people on the school's wrestling team that there were no weight classes, hence everyone had the opportunity to fight everyone else. While that should have been a disadvantage for thinner people like Craig, he, unlike Cartman, was a master of agility and mind-games. Tweek knew that all too well; it wasn't great for Tweek during arguments, but in, say, other arenas of their relationship, he really, really liked it.

Speaking of agility, Tweek hadn't even noticed that Craig had threaded his fingers back through Tweek's and was leading him into Clyde's closet. As soon as they were inside, Craig closed the closet door without hesitation.

"I'm setting a timer!" Clyde yelled from outside the closet. "After seven minutes, you'll hear this song, and I'm coming in!" His phone played a generic ringtone sound.

"Awesome," Craig yelled back. "So cool. Can't wait."

"I can't see," Tweek managed to squeak out.

"Good." Tweek couldn't make out Craig's features, but he could tell by his tone of voice exactly what look he was giving Tweek. Tweek got harder just thinking about it.

He got even harder when he felt Craig's hand moving up his thigh. "This is a bad idea. They're gonna hear us, man!"

Suddenly, without a word, Craig pinned Tweek against the wall.

"Ow!" Tweek yelped, his back hitting the unyielding plaster with a thud.

Craig quickly clamped his hand over Tweek's mouth. "Dude," he hissed, "I thought you were worried about being loud."

Tweek made some muffled noises in response.

"When I remove my hand, you're not going to say anything, right?"

Tweek nodded, eyes wide.

Craig dropped his hand, and before Tweek had the chance to disobey him, Craig's mouth took the place of his fingers, his lips pressing firmly onto Tweek's. Tweek's lips were set ablaze, an explosion of feeling radiating out across Tweek's cheeks and down his neck, all through his body, out to the tips of his fingers and toes. It was so electric that it was almost painful. He instinctively attempted to step back, to terminate the sensory overload taking place on his lips, but the wall prevented such a motion. In response to the slight movement of Tweek's torso, now no longer totally pressed up against the other boy's, Craig wrapped his arm around Tweek's waist and pulled him closer. Through the starchy fabric of his collared shirt, Tweek could feel five short nails digging fiercely into his skin. His back arched in response to Craig's touch, pushing them even closer together, placing greater pressure on their lips.

Just as Tweek was getting accustomed to the sensation of Craig's mouth, he felt something warm and wet gliding along his lower lip. It wasn't the first time he had come into contact with Craig's tongue; hell, it probably wasn't even the hundredth time. But it felt like the first time, just as it always did, and Tweek felt incredibly nervous and incredibly excited at the same time, just as he always did. In the split second before Craig could break through Tweek's tightly shut lips, Tweek encountered a familiar thought: what if this was the last time? What if Craig's tongue touched his tongue, and his tongue didn't cooperate? What if Craig pulled away, disgusted, and left Tweek alone in the closet?

But, of course, that didn't happen.

As soon as Tweek felt his lips give away to Craig's insistent prodding, his brain went hazy, and his body melted into a puddle. He was putty in Craig's hands. He couldn't concentrate on anything other than the fucking amazing things that Craig could do with his tongue. Tweek wasn't even sure if his own tongue was even doing anything; all he knew was that he was the luckiest person in the entire world, to have this beautiful god of a human being lapping at the walls of Tweek's mouth with his tongue, and running it along the back of Tweek's teeth, and slowly licking the tip of Tweek's tongue until the blond couldn't take it anymore.

Tweek's walls were officially down. His hands flew up to Craig's face, his palms lined up with a sculpted, stubbly jaw, his fingers pressing against the most perfect cheekbones to ever grace the earth. Craig's free hand wove its way through Tweek's hair, tugging at uneven tufts and massaging his scalp, triggering every sensitive nerve ending on his head. He moaned into Craig's mouth. He knew Craig thought he did that on purpose, because Craig frequently mentioned how much he liked it, but Tweek couldn't help it. Craig didn't understand how helpless he made Tweek feel. Helpless, but protected. He was always safe in Craig's arms, Craig's taut, muscular arms.

At the thought of Craig's arms, hard but smooth, covered in soft arm hair and specked with freckles, he moaned again, louder this time.

"Fuck," Craig grunted, his hand twisting Tweek's hair roughly, his pelvis jolting forward. Tweek could feel Craig's cock twitch against his leg. Suddenly, Craig's lips were on Tweek's ear, suckling on his lobe. Tweek squirmed. "Ugh, babe, can't you see what you do to me?" Craig whispered.

If Tweek weren't so fucking aroused, he would have laughed. What I do to you? Craig had Tweek wrapped around his little finger, not the other way around. Tweek couldn't stop even if he wanted—

"Ah!" Tweek cried out as Craig bit down on his tender lobe. Before he could recover, Craig's mouth started making its way down Tweek's face, dotting his face with careful kisses. Tweek knew where this was going. Craig had a pattern. First, Tweek's neck. Next, his chest. Then, his… But he wasn't ready for that yet. "Kiss me," he said weakly. "Up here."

Craig came back up for air. His eyes having adjusted to the lack of light, Tweek could make out the devilish grin on Craig's face. That goddamn grin. "Gladly," Craig whispered, gently kissing Tweek on the lips.

That's not what Tweek wanted. He opened his mouth wider, tempting Craig to deepen the kiss. But the black-haired bastard was playing keep-away with Tweek's arousal, refusing to give in to Tweek's desire. Frustrated, squirming with pent-up energy, Tweek crushed his mouth onto Craig's, his kisses sloppy, his tongue slathering Craig's face, his lips leaving Craig's bruised and sore. He didn't notice that his hands had migrated down to Craig's shoulders, which he was holding in a vice grip, as if his body was afraid of what might happen if he ever let go.

He could have just continued this for hours, but Craig had an agenda. As their kissing quickened, Tweek felt slender fingers undoing the buttons on his shirt, and then his pants. As soon as Craig unbuttoned the fly on Tweek's jeans, Tweek let out a sigh of relief, the building pressure finally released.

Craig placed a hand on Tweek's chest, curling his finger around one of the few wispy hairs. "I'm going to touch you now," he said, his mouth turning up slightly on one side. Usually he didn't warn Tweek about anything he did, but Tweek knew this was for the best. Craig was smart. Any sudden touching around Tweek's crotch region would have elicited a sudden screech, something far too loud and abrupt given where they were.

Craig's hand ever so slowly drifted down Tweek's stomach, teasing him, hovering over the tent he was pitching in his briefs. With one deft motion, Craig's fingers slipped under Tweek's underwear and wrapped around Tweek's erection. Tweek knew it was coming, but he jumped. Craig covered Tweek's mouth with his own, stifling any unwanted noise. Tweek shuddered repeatedly as the long, smooth fingers running up and down his length began to move more quickly. Craig's mouth started exploring Tweek's body, moving around his face, and his neck, and his shoulders.

"Harder," Tweek murmured through gritted teeth. Craig complied, tightening his grip, making Tweek stamp his foot and bite his lip. Craig's other hand fondled Tweek's ass, squeezing hard through the thick denim. Unable to control himself any longer, Tweek began thrusting into Craig's hand, moan after moan escaping his lips. He could feel himself nearing climax, but he didn't want to stop feeling this incredible sensation. His fingers drifted to Craig's pecs, which were still covered by a loose t-shirt, and tugged at the flimsy fabric. "Off," he said between ragged breaths, trying to sound forceful and failing, his voice barely audible over the sounds of Craig's heavy breathing and Craig's hand tugging at his skin.

"But then I have to let go," Craig whispered back, his strokes slowing ever so slightly.

Tweek shut his eyes tight, trying to stave off an orgasm. "Then let go."

Craig gave Tweek's cock one last long stroke before lifting the bottom of his t-shirt. Tweek's hand impulsively shot down to his cock to replace Craig's touch, moving up and down with the same fervor. He didn't take his eyes off Craig as the gorgeous boy extended his arms in the air and slowly pulled the shirt over his head, the light from under the door rendering the creases in his abs barely visible. It didn't matter; Tweek had already committed every single one of those lines to memory. He ran his free hand over Craig's chest and stomach, marveling at the definition, the strength, the flawlessness.

Within a few seconds, Craig grabbed his hand and kissed the tips of his fingers. Tweek knew Craig was self-conscious about his body, but Tweek had no idea why. Craig was fit, but not so muscular that he no longer looked svelte and trim. Tweek wanted nothing more than to devote more time to touching Craig's chest, but he knew he had to move on. They had limited time, and while Tweek wanted this experience to last as long as possible, he couldn't bear the thought of the timer going off without him getting off.

It wasn't until Craig placed his hand over Tweek's hand, the one pumping away on his cock, that realized he was still jerking himself off. What am I doing? He let go, and Craig immediately stepped in to take over, doing a much better job. Tweek let his head fall back, his mouth releasing a low guttural sound he didn't know he could make. Craig seemed motivated by this, pumping harder, his eyes locked onto Tweek's. His lips parted, and Tweek expected to hear Craig's commanding tone. Instead, Craig's voice came out warbled, not dissimilar to Tweek's. "Help me out," he said feebly. Tweek knew what Craig meant.

With cock in the hands of an Adonis, Tweek could barely focus on the task in front of him. His hands shook as he fumbled with the button and zipper on Craig's pants, pulling them down along with his boxers. He could barely look when he felt Craig's erection brush against his wrist. He knew the mere sight of it, large, throbbing, would make him cum instantly. Tweek closed his eyes and, using both hands, started touching Craig, matching the boy's rhythm.

Craig leaned his head into the crook of Tweek's neck. "Fuck yes. Oh, shit, Tweek. That's so good."

His words encouraged the blond, who started moving faster, prompting Craig to do the same. Craig nuzzled his head into Tweek's neck, and Tweek opened his eyes. Forgetting to avert his gaze, he caught sight of Craig's cock. A drop of precum glistened at the tip. Tweek swallowed hard, his mouth dry, his throat closing. "Craig, I'm gonna…"

Craig suddenly pulled his head away from Tweek, staring at Tweek with mild alarm. "Wait."

Craig abruptly dropped down. Tweek's hands fell away to his sides, as his eyes turned into saucers. Craig's hand kept moving up and down, but his lips were fast approaching. Before Tweek knew it, they had engulfed the tip of Tweek's cock. Tweek bit his lip again, this time hard enough to taste blood. "Craig…"

Craig abandoned the handjob, now fully focused on using his mouth. Slowly he engulfed Tweek's entire cock with his lips. Tweek had to grab Craig's hair to steady himself, as Craig's tongue made circular motions around his balls, and Craig lifted up his head, sucking hard, creating a suction that felt like a thousand blowjobs at the same fucking time. Tweek buck his hips as a wave of pleasure washed over him. Craig groaned, and he grabbed his own cock in one hand, pumping furiously as his tongue caressed Tweek's cock like it was his life's mission. The sudden realization that this was Tweek's doing—that Craig was actually enjoying this, that he was reacting audibly over Tweek, and touching himself over Tweek—made the twitchy blond finally let go of any last insecurity he had. With one loud, guttural moan, he felt his cock flooding Craig's mouth. He pulled at Craig's hair with both hands as he leaned back, his vision blurred, forgetting where he was, what time it was, who he was… All that important is that he just came in his boyfriend's mouth. And his boyfriend was Craig fucking Tucker.

As he stood there, knees about to buckle, barely able to breathe, he suddenly needed kiss Craig, right now. He whimpered, waiting for Craig to remove his lips from Tweek's cock, but no such thing happened. "Argh!" he cried out in frustration, grabbing Craig's face and pulling it up to his own. He barely caught sight of Craig's amused expression, half-lidded, lips slightly open, before he collided with Craig's mouth. Holy shit. He wasn't sure how, but somehow the sensation of Craig's hot, wet lips against his own was almost better than his orgasm. Almost.

All of a sudden, he became acutely aware of the limited amount of time they had left. Frantically, his fingers ripped Craig's fingers off Craig's cock, curling around it, tugging until Craig's kisses grew more impatient, more insistent. Craig's hands cupped Tweek's face and pulled him closer, their lips creating electricity between them that Tweek knew would push Craig over the edge.

And it did. With a second, Tweek felt Craig's cock move of its own accord, and his hand became covered in hot, sticky wetness. He thought he would pull it away in disgust, but he didn't feel all that disgusted for once. Instead, he kept it there, still, as Craig's lips open wide and released a long, slow moan against Tweek's mouth.

"I love you, Tweek."

Tweek froze, not sure if he had imagined that. It was the first time Craig had ever said those three words—at least, the first time outside of Tweek's dreams. He didn't know how to respond. His mouth opened and closed like a guppy's, but no sound came out.

After what seemed like an eternity, he felt Craig's finger trace along his cheekbone. "Dude, are you crying?" Craig whispered, incredulous.

Tweek hadn't realized that a single tear was trickling down his cheek. He sniffed and rubbed his face. "I just… I… I love you too." Another tear started to make its way along his the bridge of his nose.

Craig laughed softly, gently, and wiped it away. "Oh my god, you're so fucking gay."

Tweek turned bright red. "You're the one who just—ah!—just sucked a guy's dick!"

"Shhh." Craig held a finger up to Tweek's mouth and began kissing his neck. "Point taken."

As their breathing slowed, and the heat between them began to dissipate slightly, Tweek could feel two hands pulling up his briefs and pants. "I can do that," he said impatiently, grabbing his waistband out of Craig's fingers.

"Just trying to help, babe." Craig reached down to pick up his t-shirt, and thus began Tweek's least favorite part of the experience: just like in the school bathroom, he would have to detach himself from Craig's embrace, this time for the rest of the night.

He tried not to stare at Craig's chest once again as the dark-haired boy pulled his shirt on over his head. "How did you get the bottle to stop in front of us?" Tweek asked quietly.

Craig looked at him curiously. "What?"

"Why did I have to stick out my foot? Like, how did it work?"

"Oh, that was easy," Craig said with a shrug. "Clyde's carpet is pretty malleable, so if you press your foot down on the carpet, it creates a depression in the fabric, shallow enough that the bottle doesn't immediately fall into it, but deep enough to affect the bottle's velocity."

Tweek blinked. His boyfriend was a fucking genius, not that he didn't know that already. "That's why you get A's in physics and I don't."

Craig smirked. "You could. I can tutor you."

Tweek flinched. "You? Tutor me? Ah! Do you know what would happen?"

"Yeah," Craig said with a chuckle, gesturing around the closet. "This would happen." He moved in closer to Tweek, his arms wrapping around Tweek's waist, his hands landing on Tweek's ass. They squeezed, hard, and Tweek almost jumped. "I really want to cum inside your ass," Craig whispered, his voice so small that Tweek barely recognized it. Tweek had never heard Craig say something like that before, something so…explicit. It made Tweek squirm.

"Why didn't you?" he murmured.

"Please," Craig scoffed, clearing his throat and turning his attention to buttoning up Tweek's shirt. "You don't want our first time to be in Clyde's closet, where we only have seven minutes, do you? 'Cause I sure as shit don't." He ran his palms down the front of Tweek's shirt, in a vain attempt to smooth out the abundance of wrinkles. "I want to do it out on a blanket in the grass, with a picnic, lying under the stars…"

"Dude, now that's gay."

Craig laughed and pressed his lips to Tweek's neck. "Yeah, I guess we're both pretty fucking gay." Tweek could hear Clyde's timer going off outside. Craig leaned in and captured Tweek's lips in one last lingering kiss, his cobalt blue eyes sparkling in the light as Clyde hauled the door open. "And I wouldn't have it any other way."