"I don't know, I'm not sure I wanna do this, Tweek."

Stan shook a little from the cold, but not as much as the messy-haired blond boy who currently had an angular hand on his wrist.

"It's been fff-four months Stan...", Tweek breathed as his lips trailed dangerously close to his neck, "Four months since Craig moved away."

Stan bit his lip and shut his eyes. Tweek was touching him like a collector touches a fine china teacup. Trailing his fingers up his arms. The contact was soft but try as he might, it didn't feel like a girl's touch at all. Lips pushed against his neck and arms forced him further back against the wall behind South Park High. Tweek smelled like cotton and French roast.

"No Twee-" , Stan pushed back at the rough bricks; trying to escape his twitchy captor. His lips were caught by Tweek's almost instantly as twisted hands grabbed at his hair. A hard thrust pushed him back against the wall and stopped him from squirming. The taste of his tongue was like iced mocha. Stan tried to scream, to yell that he was being raped by some desperate faggy psycho kid- but the kisses became deeper, and the thrusts more rhythmic. His own body was betraying him.

"Please St-Stan." Tweek said is growling whisper. His hands moved up Stan's chest, the rhythmic rocking of his hips keeping Stan pinned. Try as he might, there was no denying the way his breathing had quickened, and the bulge growing in his jeans. He moaned and clutched at Tweek's arm; the half-hearted words of resistance in his throat blocked by a coffee-flavoured tongue. Tweek made little whimpering sounds as his hands grazed over Stan's nipples. The thrusts had evolved into grinding, the constant pressure colouring Tweek's face. He pulled back and tugged at Stan's shirt, removing it hastily before his own.

Tweek was pale and angular, with a poof of sun-blond hair like a halo on his head. Stan's mind was racing. Fingers grabbed and fumbled with the button of his pants.

"Tweek", Stan breathed, "I really, really-"

Hard-set green eyes snapped up to him, a hand still on his zipper.

"Stan", moaned Tweek , as he massaged the cotton bulge in Stan's pants, "I hu-haven't cum in fff-four months." He paused at the look of disbelief that flashed across Stan's face and hastily added; "Except in dreams and th-that's different." Stan's brain was spinning. How could he say no to someone who wanted him so bad? How could he say no when his body wouldn't let him?

Stan responded by pushing Tweek hard against the bricks, his skin scraping and bruising on the rough stone. Tweek pulled him into a kiss. He pulled at his jeans without bothering with the button or zipper, and felt Tweek's shaky hands pulling on his own. The warm skin on his body had a blanking effect on his mind, he found himself whispering, "What do you want me to do?"

"Fuck me.", was the breathy response he received.

Stan felt Tweek's hands pushing his boxer briefs out of the way, and soon a bony hand was wrapped around his cock. Stan pushed Tweek's pants down around his ankles as he started to stroke.

"I..ah..don't really know..mmm..how to-"

Tweek braced himself against the wall and turned his head to Stan.

"Like th-this", he said, grabbing Stan's arm and pulling him into a backwards kiss.

He responded by shoving his tongue into Tweek's mouth and rubbing his erection against his ass, lost in the teenage desire to get off. Tweek pulled away with a breathy gasp and began sucking on his fingers, moaning as Stan grinded his cock against him. Stan kept a now shaking hand on Tweek's shoulder and watched as the boy slid one finger and then the other into himself.

"Nnnhgg..ah...n-now Stan", Tweek groaned, "I'm ready now."

Stan pulled Tweek's ass cheeks apart and bagan to push in. The sound of Tweek's deep, controlled breaths and low groans filled his ears. Stan grabbed Tweek's shoulders for support as he thrusted in deeper.

"aaah! Stan!"

Tweek spread his legs wider and cried out when Stan ran a hand up to grip his chest, licking along his collar bone and up to his neck.

Stan moaned, the new sensation raising his heart rate and making him pant. He began thrusting in and out of Tweek rhythmically, Tweek pushed back on his cock and gasped his name. He grabbed desperately at the brick façade of the school in front of him, his fingertips shaking on the edge of the red stones.

"Nnnngg..harder!", Tweek cried.

He could feel Stan rub tantalizingly close to his prostate, and tears welled in his eyes as Stan gripped his sides and slammed back in to him. Tweek let out a breathless scream. Stan was shaking behind him and making little noises of pleasure.

"Tweek...mmhg...oh God.."

Tweek pressed his cheek to the wall, each thrust hit just right now. His orgasm was building and his body was tensing. He heard Stan panting and groaning his name, the thrusts becoming harder and faster. Tweek pushed back and sparks burst behind his eyes. Craig's name tore from his quivering lips before he could think.

Stan blushed with anger and groaned as he came. He pulled out slowly and Tweek shook with tenderness and fear. Both boys pulled their boxers and pants up wordlessly, afterglow shocks still making them light-headed. Tweek wiped the sweat off his forehead with the inside of his T-shirt and sighed. Stan finally spoke.

"Don't tell anybody we did that."

Tweek rustled his shirt over his ever-messy hair and blushed.

"Of course not...I mean I tech-technically.."

Stan's eyes widened. He mouthed Craig's name and Tweek bit his lip.

"He p-promised he'd be back..."

Stan slid his shirt on and smoothed his hair down. The smell of sex that now clung to the fabric repulsed him a little. Tweek seemed to sure, so trusting. What was he supposed to say? That everything would be fine, Craig would come back, never find out Tweek had...with him, and everyone would shit rainbows?

"So how was I?", he asked blankly.

Tweek gave a jolty shake and his blush deepened.

"Al-almost as good as him.."

Stan smirked, turned, and walked away.

"So were you, Tweek, so were you."